#that is NOT her scarf she stole it from lost and found

[fnafverse-quotes]

Funtime Chica: Focus! This is very important!

El Chip: Okay, what is it?

Funtime Chica: *throwing a scarf on* Scarf? Or no scarf?

[ahhnini]

okay season 4 rafe where they broke up and shes a kook turned pouge, and its just a bunch of angst and basically all of s4 with her?

our last summer - rafe cameron x reader

synopsis - he wishes he could've had one last summer with you

warnings - angst, kook turned pogue!reader, mentions of cheating, (slight) sofia slander (I love her tho!!), stabbing, character death

you were in no means ready to see him, let alone work with your ex-fiancée again. you knew he’d been stealing glances at you while you all trek your way through the sandy dunes of the coast of morocco, but you were strong enough to keep yourself from looking back and meeting his gaze.

your main priority was sarah, who you could tell was getting queasy from the amount of activity she’d been doing these past couple of days. once you saw the skyline of a city, your ounce of optimism returned.

around a year ago, you’d been happily engaged to who you thought was the love of your life, rafe cameron. after you’d found a tank top that wasn’t yours in your shared bedroom, you’d knew he was seeing someone else, but you didn’t expect that someone to be your own best friend, sofia.

you had followed the pogues to morocco after what groff had done to jj. you were willing to follow them to the ends of the earth, never leave a pogue behind, john b's words echo in your head.

you were sitting with sarah, rubbing her back while the rest of the group went to go get some food for her. rafe was mumbling incoherent sentences, something he always did while pissed off or annoyed, and you tried your best to ignore his complaints. "you okay?" you softly spoke up, sarah meekly nodded her head in response.

you hear the shout of multiple voices, turning around to see the rest of the group running towards you. you stood up, dumbfounded as the moroccan authorities chase your friends. already? one of them apprehends you, and you writhe at their grip. you plead to them, but its no use. you turn around, seeing rafe also getting held up. the rest of the pogues were nowhere to be found. as long as they got each other, they're safe.

after a quick interrogation, the authorities let you both go. you let out a huff, not only because you were falsely accused, but because you're now stuck with your ex-lover, in a foreign country.

"are you serious?" were the first words you'd tell him in a year. he pulled out a wad of cash and his passport from his belt bag. "that's like, hundreds of dollars, rafe! you could've fed your sister!" he turns to look at you, piercing blue eyes burning holes through your soul. "listen, my only job was to get you pogues to morocco. no more, no less. if you don't wanna get lost, you gotta follow me, I'm your best bet," "as if," you roll your eyes, "we're in the same boat—no pun intended—but, you are also in a different country," he pulls you into his chest with one arm, whispering in your ear, "yeah? but guess who has the money? guess who actually has defense skills. not you, huh?" he shoves you out of his arms, making you stumble backward. you scoff, following him through the crowded streets.

"you look nice," a slight smile dawned on his face as one of the store clerks helped you wrap your scarf around your hair. you both had changed into more neutral colored outfits to help blend in. "hold on" you see rafe turn to a stand that's selling phones. you impatiently tap your foot as he dials a couple of numbers in. you follow closely, wanting to find out who needed his attention so badly.

your heart clenched as you heard another female voice, quickly realizing that it was sofia. of course, why wouldn't he call his girlfriend? now, you distanced yourself from him, looking at the floor as you drag your feet along the dirt, getting your shoes dusty.

this day felt like years. after an extensive search for groff, you'd finally found him. you rode on the back of the motorcycle rafe stole, holding onto his waist. you couldn't help but have your mind flashback to your last motorcycle ride with him, still on kildare, on the way to courthouse to get marriage documents. his cologne hadn’t changed either. you remembered how his cologne lingered on every article of your clothing. you knew he’d been about it too from the way his body tensed up.

you shake your head, he probably does that with sofia now. you sniffle, hoping the sound of the engine would muffle it. rafe pulls off to the side of the road, stopping at a well. you use this time to regain your distance from him, stretching from the long ride. "is that it?" you point to the city down the cliff, squinting your eyes. groff looks at the map, nodding his head. you see the two men bent over the well, and you shuffle to see what they were looking at. "...good thing hollis and I paid off that girl...what was her name? sonya? oh, sofia!" you see rafe's face twist. you kneel down in front of the well, next to groff, "what are you talking about?" "its really none of your business," he retorted.

what happens next is a blur, groff pulls out a knife, attempting to stab rafe. rafe's reflexes work in record-time, but it was a horrible decision to try to help him at this moment. as groff attempts to defend himself, you feel the blade go into your stomach. you let out a sharp gasp, after seeing groff get shoved down the well, you collapse, rafe gracing your fall. "hey, hey, y/n, stay with me, please," his voice cracks as be sits you down on the side. he holds your wound, and you let out a painful groan. his eyes widen. he still calls out for help, desperation lacing his voice. "no one can hear you," you cough.

gentle hands hold your face, "rafe, you can't save me, I'm sorry," you feel a warmness fill your body. "no, no, I can, we can get you to a hospital! stay with me-" you cough again, louder this time, "no, its impossible," he curses under his breath, before shouting to the sky. he embraces you, your voice getting weaker by the second, "hey rafe? can you tell me about our best memories? like...during our relationship?" your voice was barely a whisper now.

he nods, voice barely steady as he begins to talk, "we had a lot of good memories, but my favorite was our last summer, where we were gonna get married in the fall. I shouldn't have cheated, I'm so sorry," he sobs onto your shoulder, "remember when all we did was go surfing? and I taught you how to ride those big swells 'cus you were too scared...and...how we were gonna move out of kildare after we got married? we were gonna move to colorado, live that white picket fence type of life," he bitterly chuckles, "I screwed up, I screwed us, and I'm so, so, sorry. If I could rewind time, just to feel your lips on mine again, just to hear you laugh, just to have you look at me with so much love, I would. I'd make sure you were never under this situation." your mind replayed all of those memories, and with shaky hands, you pull him in for one last kiss, pulling back to say your last words, “I never stopped loving you, rafe,” before letting your body finally succumb to your injury.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[and-so-he-rambled]

Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters Part two

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3



The first night was the worst. Vlad broke into an empty old house without much difficulty, observing the layer of dust over everything and the lack of cameras or security beyond an old system he easily dismantled.

The kids were weary, plodding along and knuckling their eyes as they tried to stay awake and alert. Jazz had a hand on Danny the way she always did when Vlad wasn’t carrying him, refusing to let him go far from her.

She tightened her grip as a sleepy Danny began to sink into the floor, Vlad diving forward to scoop the child up. He returned to a solid state, still not in control of his powers. They’d had a few teaching sessions since Danny came into his care, but they hadn’t been far along when they’d had to flee. The stress and sleep deprivation wasn’t helping the boys already frayed control of his powers. Even Vlad, a Self proclaimed master of his curse, found himself phasing accidentally.

He led the two to the first empty bedroom and laid them both down, Jazz curling around Daniel protectively.

“Sleep Jazz, I’ll stand guard.” He shifted to his ghost form, Jazz eyeing him warily the way she always did before nodding and closing her eyes. He knew she would try to stay awake anyway, but was confident she’d lose the battle soon.

The ghost inspected his wound, frowning at the black lines spreading out from the hole in his upper arm. That wasn’t good.

He’d tested various of the Fentons and his old designs on himself when researching what he’d become, and none had this effect.

The ghost sent a copy to explore the house, sitting guard next to the bed and assuring himself that a ghost didn’t need sleep. Sure, he’d feel in like a truck when he switched back, but right now he was too dead to be tired.

-

The kids looked much better after a bath and a meal. He didn’t dare use the electricity until he knew where the bill would end up, or he could hack in and reroute that bill to get lost or paid under the table. For now he just heated a pot of spaghetti-Os over his flaming fist.

Danny had found a young boys room, mostly devoid of life but having a few toys he latched on to. He played and seemed like a normal boy if not for the flying around the house, kicking off of walls and tumbling through the air with a giggle as Jazz tried to wrangle him. they still had dark circles under their eyes and a haunted air, but they looked like kids again.

He left Jazz in charge when Danny went down for a nap, flying from the mansion invisibly before touching down behind a building and coming back into view. It was easy to slip into the crowd, injured arm held protectively to his chest as he weaved around people who semis just as soulless and dead as he was.

The shelters were a mess, and many of the food banks seemed overworked and shady. He snuck in through the back and stole two portions for the kids, storing them inside himself as he continued scoping out Gotham. It was a shit hole, but he could feel the ambience of death that clung to him like a second skin and hid him from prying eyes.

He went back as it started to grow dark, a bag full of broken electronics on his back.

As the kids scarfed down their food, once it was sufficiently pulverized, he began to disassemble and work on the tech. He needed a way to stay in contact with Jazz that couldn’t be tracked or hacked, and would likely give one to Danny once he was a little older.

Jack had been better with tinkering, despite being an utter buffoon otherwise. Vlad couldn’t help but think of him and Maddie the entire time he tinkered, hands feeling guided by theirs.

It took him a few days to finish them in between trips to Gotham to steal food and entertainment for the kids who were definitely feeling cooped up. They had new clothes now, stolen from a thrift store as to not stand out. He hated to see his charges in rags, but this city was a dangerous place to stand out. They had to hide until Vlad was more prepared.

He knew he couldn’t keep them locked inside the mansion forever, and he needed to do some research. He wanted to steal a laptop, but he’d need to find a place with Wi-Fi to hunker down.

He made a decision as Jazz did her nightly lesson of trying to teach her little brother how to shoot straight, they needed a chance to be children.

-

[skyloftian-nutcase]

This prompt is your free ticket to write GanonDad stuff! I'll take anything as long as Ganon's being a good dad :3

Ganondorf had never seen the sea.

Some called the desert a sea, or said that it used to be one. All Ganondorf could see in the desert was death.

He'd heard tales of it when he visited Castle Town. People described it as endless, in varying shades of blue that could swallow one whole. It had sounded fantastical and exaggerated, powerful and enticing and so foreign he could hardly put a picture to it. It hadn't mattered all that much back then, once he'd realized the sea didn't have water that was actually drinkable - what use was it to him, then?

He'd learned of its depths when he met Nabooru. There was a teenager who went by that name in his barren wasteland, spunky and capable but defiant. But when he was brought to this new land through Din's blessing, he'd met someone of the same name who was far different. She was the Gerudo's chief.

She was more than just a chief, though, she was a queen. She didn't just lead a small group of thieves picking at scraps in the desert, she ruled over an entire civilization.

Ganondorf had challenged her, of course. He was the rightful ruler of the Gerudo, after all.

He'd lost.

Despite his anger, despite his attempt to overthrow her, Nabooru spared him, letting him stay in the outskirts of her capital city, Lagema.

Ganondorf felt frustration and jealousy boil his blood. He'd had the power of a goddess at the point of being executed by the sages, yet when he needed it now, Din stole it away from him. Instead, he was left to suffer the indignity of seeing a Gerudo prospering under someone else's rule.

It was almost as if Din did this just to show him he couldn't succeed. And he would not let that stand.

But the longer he lingered here, the more he saw of these people, the more he saw her...

The woman was bathed in power. She wore it like the fine silk head scarf she sometimes showcased for celebrations. Red, dripping in precious gems, jingling with every step from decorative jewelry all over her arms, her belly and hips, her ears, her wrists, and her ankles, strong in stance, muscles sculpted by the goddess Farore herself...

And her eyes. Bluer than the sky, infinite in their depths, drawing him in every time he looked at them, daring him to try her, calm and quiet and dangerous. They held the vastness and power that people spoke of in relation to the ocean, all encapsulated in such beauty.

He’d finally seen the sea. And it was breathtaking.

Ganondorf had never felt this way before. He didn't know what it was. He just wanted to get closer to her again. To fight her, to prove himself, to win.

It was maddening. It was invigorating.

It was far worse when those oceans actually looked at him, when they focused on him. He could hardly articulate himself sometimes when they started to speak, and he despised that. He stepped up more, became bolder, and as time passed, this woman became more than just a challenge; she became an adventure, and, eventually, a partner.

When their children had been born, he'd never suspected he'd find her ocean eyes in their little boy.

It was fascinating, beautiful to watch how their children reflected them. Hemisi bore her mother's facial structure paired her father's amber eyes and leaf shaped ears. Merovar was the spitting image of his father, but with his mother's eyes, captivating in their blue. They didn't reflect the silent power that his mother bore, though - they were ravenous, hunting for whatever his ambitious heart could reach, just like his father. Despite this, though, Hemisi was the one with true fire, rambunctious and temperamental and the superior warrior.

His twins were his world. He’d never been so utterly overrun by so many emotions, so dedicated to others. He’d build and destroy kingdoms for them.

Many moons after their birth, Ganondorf found his son on the balcony of their palace, staring out at the night sky. The streets of Lagema were still vaguely splashed with color from the festival, though the harsh winds and sands were slowly washing it away, bringing a drab tan back to the world as they prepared for the moment of truth.

The world was silent in anticipation. Hemisi was fast asleep, having let her father carry her to bed after he'd told her and Orik a story. Nabooru was gathering forces in the other settlements. Orik was resting, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

Merovar glanced at Ganondorf with his ocean eyes, blue coloring near black in the darkness, face uncharacteristically worried.

"What is it?" the Gerudo king asked quietly.

Merovar sighed, looking away. "The assault. It's going to change everything."

"For the better," Ganondorf pointed out. "Don't tell me you're having reservations like Hemisi."

Hemisi had argued time and again that they didn't need the Triforce, that an ancient sacred relic didn't matter because they had what they needed. Nabooru looked at it more as a potential threat if relations between the Gerudo and Hyrule broke down.

Ganondorf saw an opportunity. He'd desired this power most of his life. Once he'd learned of its existence here, he'd renewed his search for it. Merovar had seemed on board.

"I... don't know," his son finally said, looking at his hands resting on the balcony railing. "Such power is... I want it. But we're going to start a war."

"Not necessarily," Ganondorf assured him with a rumble of satisfied amusement in his chest. "They won't stand a chance against us once we have it. It'll be a skirmish at best."

"And then?" Merovar asked, glancing back at him for guidance. "Will we really rule over it all?"

Ganondorf rested his hand on his boy's shoulder. "Yes, we will. All of Hyrule will be ours."

Finally. The winds of Hyrule would belong to him and his family.

His children. He'd share this prosperity with them. He'd protect them with it. His entire life, Ganondorf had been looked to for safety and guidance - it had been an expectation a s a burden. But now, he finally felt... happy to give it.

He moved his hand to sweep up and down his son's back briefly, a promise of love and a reassurance. Merovar relaxed under the touch, smiling a little, excitement glittering in his blue eyes like stars in the night sky.

But it hadn't gone that way. The Triforce had fractured, the world had gone awry, and war had broken out.

And one by one, his family had fallen apart.

Nabooru had turned against him. They'd fought, and she'd died. Ganondorf repeated over and over that she had started it, that she had attacked him. His hands didn't tremble as much anymore thinking about it. Instead, all he felt was rage.

The rage grew when Merovar fell in battle. When Hemisi was captured and subsequently betrayed him. His grief was inconsolable, dying heart replaced with a furnace of pure hatred. He didn't even see the fear in his little girl's eyes anymore when he fought her, Link, and the queen that final day.

Yet time and torture had a way of cooling such hatred. Solitude brought contemplation. But resentment, fear, hurt remained.

And on a battlefield millennia later, Ganondorf froze at the sight of blue cutting through a sea of armor.

A blue scarf. Just like Link. A fierce cry of rage. Just like Hemisi.

And those ocean eyes. Just like Merovar, like Nabooru.

That day, Ganondorf saw the sea once more.

[dsireland86]

OMG Yes please make the All Too Well fic! And yeah it is crazy that we thought about him with the same song

I was originally going to use the original version of this song, but after listening to Taylor's version again, it hit differently. This story was a little difficult to write because I really didn't want to make Nick the bad guy. But, at some point in our lives, we all make that one mistake we regret for the rest of our lives, right? In my universe, this was Nicholas's.

All Too Well

Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers

My sister's house in upstate New York that Autumn was so cold; colder than Virginia. The moment we walked through the door together, she smiled so big, squeezing my arm and saying how it felt like home. My sister loved her instantly. 

She wore a red scarf around her neck that she said kept the cold out and her body heat in. I didn't believe her. It was so thin and small. There was no way. But it smelled like her, and her scent always made me weak.

I was five years older than her, but nobody could ever tell. People would say my sweet disposition and her wide-eyed gaze that was always focused on me made us look so compatible together that age was never something anyone ever questioned about us.

The whole ten days we were in New York together, singing in the car, almost running countless red lights because I couldn’t stop looking over at her and how beautiful she was with the wind in her hair, getting lost on some crazy back roads with autumn leaves falling down like rain all around us, was the best ten days of my life. It  was nothing but the purest magic ever to be found in life. Even after it was long over, I could still picture all too well; her smile, her eyes, her laughter, all of it. It was love. I was in love with her, and I knew she was in love with me.

My mom came to visit my sister. Knowing y/n and I were there, she brought my childhood photo album and embarrassed the hell out of me. My cheeks never turned as red as they did when she saw me sitting in my old red car twin size bed in just my underwear and glasses; god, those horrible thick, black rimmed glasses.

Then came the t-ball stories that made my mother proud to tell, but made me cringe. But y/n hung on every word my mom said as she learned more about my past and, for the first time, I knew she was my future despite what was waiting for me back in Virginia. I didn't want that anymore. I was over it. I wanted what I had right then; at least I tried convincing myself I did.

As we drove through those back roads, I was aching to say, "I love you," but for some reason, I was too scared to call it what it was, until it was too late. Until it was already dead, gone, and buried beneath the hate and bitterness of her heart, and I didn't blame her one bit for the way she felt. I deserved it.

That same night, I stole her innocence, promising her that she was the only one I'd ever want and that what we had was real, because in the heat of the moment, I really meant it. But in the end, I knew it was a lie from the very beginning. I stole her magic and treated it and her innocence as if they were some ordinary, mundane things when they weren't.

After three months of silence, the moment she found out the truth, the painful look of shame that graced her beautiful face was too much for my heart to handle. I wanted to die, to run away from her and never see her again. There was nothing else for either one of us left to do except hope that she would forget me long enough to forget why she ever felt like she needed me in the first place.

The very last time we were happy was right after we came back from New York, and she stayed over at my place. It was the middle of the night, and I awoke to her not beside me, so I got up and went searching for her only to find her in the kitchen listening to "You Belong To Me" by Jo Stafford; our song. I sat on the stairs for a moment, watching her dance in the glow of the refrigerator light as she looked for something to eat or drink, knowing in the morning all of this was going to end.

I cried, hating myself to the point that I rushed back upstairs and threw up in the toilet. I had kept her a dark, dirty little secret when she only kept me like an oath swearing over and over her loyalty to me. It was all a masterpiece until I tore it all apart. For what? I don't even know anymore.

A month after that night, I called her up to tell her I was moving to my sister's. She answered the phone, sounding so hopeful and optimistic, but when I told her that I was leaving, y/n asked if I was going alone. I didn't want to be honest, but I had lied to her long enough, so I was. I told her the truth (or at least what I had convinced myself to be the truth) about her and I and that what we had was never going to work because of the age difference. I was casually cruel, crumbling her heart up like a piece of paper and throwing it to the floor. I knew she wanted to die because I had felt that kind of pain before, too.

She asked me why I was doing this to her on the eve of her twenty-first birthday and I cringed, completely forgetting the date. She screamed at me, saying it was supposed to be fun turning twenty-one, but now she was nothing but paralyzed by pain and regret. I promised her it would get easier and she disagreed, saying time doesn't fly when you're bleeding like a soldier on the battlefield. Then she asked the crucial question, the one I was hoping she never would; "Did the love affair between us maim you like it maimed me?"

I felt cold, numb from all the pain. I didn't answer her, just told her goodbye then hung up the phone. I went for a walk, plagued by memories of the past in the city's barren cold as the first fall of snow glistened as it fell. I remember it all too well.

I'm boxing up all her things she left behind. Her red plaid shirt, her hairbrush that still holds strands of loose hair, a pair of panties I remember pulling off of her the very last night I made her my own, and her old scarf; the red one she wore to my sister’s that day in New York. I bring it to my nose and breath in deeply, soaking in the remaining scent of her it holds. It reminds me of innocence and the way things used to be. I can't get rid of it. So, I open my dresser drawer and gently lay it in there, touching it one last time before closing it. I remember her wearing it all too well and I never want to forget it either. She loved me so, back before I lost the one real thing I'd ever known. What we had was rare and I know I’ll never have it again.

I say her name every once in a while, like a sacred prayer to remind myself of the one and only good thing in my life that I lost. And the memories of her come rushing back every time, reminding me of her love, all too well. 

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Ancient Myths Retold Masterlist

Summary: Lost at sea for the last ten years, Lucien Vanserra, Heir to Day has been presumed dead by all but one. Clinging to that thread of gold and loyal until and beyond death, Elain knows every one of the gossiping fools and suitors cursing her doorstep are wrong. Even still, feeling their bond grow frailer each morning has taken it's toll.

Each night she can't help but fear that bond will at last be cleaved, and the wolves will close in for their prize—her hand in marriage.

AN: This is inspired by EPIC: The Musical. If you haven’t listened to the EIGHT SAGAS Jay has released, WHAT ARE YOU DOING GO LISTEN!!!

If you have, DM me so we can freak out together.

CW: Fluffy smut

Chapter II: My Everything

Lucien

Lucien would never forget the day he met Elain. He’d heard the rumors about her, of course. She’d come into her power a few months before the solstice, recognized and revered as a seer almost immediately. There had been a mild interest shown on his father’s part, but he had no interest in arranging or rushing Lucien’s marriage. Considering the chaos and scandal that preceded his own union, it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Lucien’s business in Summer was strictly professional, all about turning on his charm as a courtier and setting down new political anchors. But then the energy of the room had shifted. A thread pulled taut inside of him, winding out. Across the vast space of the ball room, he found the other end of it.

She was stunning in every sense of the word, dressed that evening in a sunset pink gown, her face slightly flushed from dancing, even if her partner seemed to be lacking in any sort of aptitude for the task. He knew he’d have to remedy the issue himself, making his move the moment it was socially acceptable. Luckily enough, the male moved on before Lucien could make himself look like an entitled ass in his desperation to speak with his mate. He’d crossed the floor, offered his arm, and that moment—taking her hand and drawing her into that first dance—had started it all. Had led them here.

Once again they stood hand in hand, eager to accept the silken fabric of white and gold meant to be wound around their joined hands where they stood before the court's High Priestess prepared to say their vows. Elain was resplendent in her mating gown, a lightweight dress that complemented the palette of the scarf binding them. The off-shoulder gown left her arms bare, the pleated bodice hugging her figure close before the skirt flared loosely from her slender waist, its sheer golden train trailing a few feet behind her.

But beautiful as all of that made her, it was the unadulterated joy in her eyes as they exchanged their vows that stole his breath. Hope for what their future holds. “You’re exquisite,” he’d breathed the moment he saw her. “Simply exquisite.”

The bond between them had thrummed as her cheeks heated, living and writhing between them with the tension building with each day they waited to truly accept the bond, putting on this grand display for their families and courts. All he needed was a bed and four walls to see their bond to its full glory, but with Elain’s raising… Though the concern could never be brought into conversation with polite company, Lucien could read Lady Archeron’s fears well enough. Elain was her most beautiful daughter and greatest prize on the marriage market. She wasn’t going to chance anything physical happening before vows were exchanged with a prince some dared call rakish. And Elain was the dutiful daughter, to a fault.

It had been a special kind of torture, shoving back the instinct to claim, claim, claim when he snuck into the guest room his family provided Elain. To wake each morning and fall asleep each night with her smaller form flush against his, her soft little breaths at his ear, her scent—so uniquely Elain—that stayed caught in his nose in dreams and reality both.

Now, seeing her in her mating gown, haloed by a sunset that just kissed the waters beyond, Lucien thought it was almost worth the wait.

~~~~~

Elain

Elain adored Lucien’s parents in every sense of the word. It’s why she’d had so few disagreements with the lavish event their mating ceremony turned out to be, planned with the help of his mother. If she was honest, the entire evening had been a girlhood dream come true. And yet all she could think of was the events that would follow the reception’s closure—or at least their leave from it.

Even with that said, all that came before it made for a night to be remembered, particularly their first dance together. Whatever fuss her mother and father had been making was long forgotten, with the ceremony and formal mating offering behind them.

What had started as a formal dance slowly morphed into something softer, hands once so carefully placed now drifting to pull each other close. One of Lucien’s hands had splayed across her lower back, drawing her in until she melted against him, arms coming up over his shoulders, her nose pressed against his pulse. His other hand slipping beneath her hair to cradle her neck. It left only enough room between them so they didn’t trip over one another.

It didn’t leave any room for her to misunderstand a single word leaving his lips, too quiet for anyone but her to hear, even as the worst of Day’s gossip-mongers twirled around them.

So, like warm honey each endearment flowed from his lips, their tender charm cleaved only by a filthy promise to complement each one.

Each and every time I see you, you seem more beautiful than the last. Tonight… I don’t know how much longer I can play this game when all I can think about is ripping this dress to pieces and worshiping every inch of you.

Every word was spoken so easily. His face never shifted, his scent never changed. Even as she felt desire pooling deep within herself. She saw the hunger in his eyes alone when he pulled back enough to claim her mouth. There was a familiar pressure around them. And the next time she opened her eyes the party had vanished, replaced by a massive bed and a crackling hearth.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Your mother—”

“My mother is a mated female. She’ll understand. And if she actually has a problem with us leaving early, she can take it up with me after the honeymoon. Now—” A feral grin crossed his face, a silent vow of wicked things to come. “—I believe I was just beginning to tell you my plans for our time away.” His nose swept down the side of her neck ever so gently, lifting away only for him to press a soft kiss beneath her ear. Elain didn’t bother trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her. “The things I want to do to you,” he groaned, circling her until his breath warmed her nape, his nimble fingers unfastening each button at the back of her dress until the white silk pooled to the floor. “Mate.”

That word was her undoing. His fingers had just started working open the corset’s tie when she whipped around to face him again, dragging him down by the neck to kiss her. The taste of him would ruin her, that she couldn't deny.

There was a sudden heat down her spine, gone as quickly as it appeared, the stench of singed fabric cleared with a soft wind. Breaking the kiss, she scowled at her mate. “Did you just burn my clothing off?”

“I singed a few laces,” he purred, ripping through the weakened garment in a single motion. “You can keep pretending you actually care or you can let me take you to bed and fulfill every filthy promise I made on that dance floor.”

His mouth was on her again, the tip of his tongue sweeping across her lower lip. The heat of the bond only built as she let him in, channeling what focus she could manage into working open the buttons of his jacket and shirt. They fell to the floor in a forgotten tangle of fabric, buried beneath the skirt of her dress seconds later. “Cauldron. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Elain panted. “I’m just going to ruin you for anyone else.”

He chuckled, laying her down on the mattress at her back. “Little dove, that was done the moment you accepted my request to dance.” His calloused fingers traced down the tender flesh of her stomach, dipping just low enough to graze her clitoris, drawing out a soft whimper. “Hmm.”

“Lucien.”

“Such a mouth on you and one little touch later, where are we?” A single finger pushed into her core and she groaned. “Sweet, needy girl, already soaked for me.” Adding a second finger almost immediately, he curled them both inside of her, setting her trembling in his arms.

Reaching up, she loosened the knot of leather tying his hair out of his face, her fingers twisting through the strands at the back of his head. She needed to taste him again. Mate. Mine. Claim. She didn’t need any sort of daemati gift to know the same thought had lodged in his own mind, a tempest of need and emotion flooding her very veins.

Groaning into her mouth, Lucien rolled his hips into hers, the hard length of him all the more obvious to her with her legs spread to cradle his hips. She broke away just long enough to gasp out something that ended up sounding more like a plea than a command, but he honored it all the same, quickly stripping his pants and shirt.

She reached to plant a hand on his chest, trying to keep a clear enough head to think of something other than the firm muscle beneath her palm—the hard length of him against her “We can wait, Elain,” he offered, reading the nervous energy that had cut through the fog of lust that had nearly consumed them both.

“No. Just…”

“I guarantee there is nothing you could do tonight to ruin the gift we’ve been given, Elain.” And if that didn’t cut right to the root of the issue. “Let me show you, my love.”

She nodded. “Close your eyes. All I want you to do for now is feel. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She hoped. But so inexperienced, who was to say—The first stroke of his tongue banished any concern of inadequacy from her mind. Elain hadn’t even noticed him move that far down the bed through their short discussion of her reservations. “You don’t have to—”

“You have a few things to learn, Elain, if you’ve convinced yourself that tasting you is an inconvenience to me. It’s all I’ve thought about for weeks. Relax,” he finally crooned.

It only took a moment longer for her to go pliant beneath his touch, earning a groan of approval, his calloused hands wrapping over the tops of her thighs to lock her in place against his mouth. “Gods.” She bit her lip nearly hard enough to break skin, trying to keep from revealing how easily his touch destroyed her self-control.

“None of that,” he growled, pulling away just long enough to scold her. “I want to hear every sweet little sound you make for me, Elain. How else will I know how to satisfy you in the future?”

At this point she doubted there was much he could do that wouldn’t satisfy her, not that she had any intention of feeding her mate’s ego more than this moment undeniably would.

Her case wasn’t helped any by the near violent trembling in her thighs when his head dropped again. “Lucien. Lucien, wait. Too much.” His mouth closed over her clit, two fingers pushing deep inside of her. She screamed, fist clenched tight in his hair as the first wave rolled through her.

She wasn’t sure if he realized how new all of it was to her. Of course Lucien knew she hadn’t gone as far as to let a male into her bed, but had he pieced together she hadn’t so much as touched herself? How could she, so fearful of judgement from her family and their staff if they could scent it on her the next morning?

There beneath her mate she couldn’t manage more than a whimper of protest when he continued working her through the crashing wave of sensation, unbearable pressure building too quickly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he growled, the vibration rippling through her.

“I’m almost—”

His fingers curled sharply, teeth pinching down enough to sting until her second climax broke through her. He slide up her body, mapping each tender point of skin along the way, his fingers keeping a steady rhythm inside her to drag her back down, spiraling back to some semblance of coherency.

Elain managed to peel her eyes open just as he pulled his hand back, drawing out a low moan quickly silenced by his kiss. He notched against her, teasing the tip until she tried to lift her hips. She felt his lips curl into a smile the same moment his left hand threaded against her right, the other a guide between them as he eased in to the hilt.

“Oh.”

“Alright?” he checked.

“Full. Okay.” He gave her a few moments to adjust to the stretch, let the pinch of pain fade. He was the first and last male who would touch her like this, be inside of her. Her mate. A pleasant shiver ran through her at the thought and his fingers tightened between hers when she clenched around him. “I’m okay,” she said again, legs wrapping behind his back.

“Good girl.” His other hand braced against the headboard, hips rocking slow and steady. “So sweet for me,” he praised, nose tracing the length of her throat as his rhythm quickened, Elain’s head tipping back. “Dreamed of seeing my pretty little mate filled up like this.”

Another soft moan snuck up her throat with the next punch of his hips, each word leaving her mates lips lodging deep in her mind set to run time and time again. “Lucien, more,” she managed to bite out, a broken sound leaving her when he reached beneath her to better angle her hips.

Teetering, waiting to fall, her nails bit into his back with the next stroke. He groaned at her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Elain, fuck.”

The arm braced beside her head buckled and he dropped to his elbow, his hand slipping under her head to tangle through her hair enough to tilt her head, his mouth once again homing in on the tender flesh of her neck. A soft cry left her at the pinch of his teeth and she gripped him tighter as her third orgasm tore through her, the mating bond a golden flame between them.

Lucien growled, hitting her cervix the moment he fell into his own release, his tongue tracing the bite at her neck as he worked her through the last of it.

She heard a mumbling by her ear, a steady chant gaining clarity as she dragged herself back to a somewhat coherent state.

“My mate. My beautiful, marvelous mate.” He kissed her brow. “What I did to deserve this, I’ll never know.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @corcracrow // @goddess-aelin // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn // @vulpes-fennec // @headcanonheadcase // @aldbooks // @panicatthenightcourt // @jennity-blogs // @thelovelymadone

[psychospore]

A Second Chance

This has been sitting in my WIP pile for a while but I've finally finished writing this!

I do hope you enjoy the sequel to In Another Life inspired by @just-someone11 comment

Ok listen i knew it would be angst. I pushed back reading this knowing it would be angst but still :((((((. wonderfully written and if you find the inspiration maybe you could write Loki meeting y/n in the new life? Idk maybe as tom and yn.....oh oh oh or after Loki dies, so more reuniting in the afterlife

If you like more, check out my Masterlist

Summary: An alternate life brings you and Loki together, along with it is the realization that whatever timeline you may be - you are both connected to each other

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, fluff, multiverse stuff,

You've always hated winter - maybe it's the numbing cold that you had to endure every time you have to go out or the fact that everything around you is devoid of color because of the accumulating snow.

This time around, you despised it because you had to walk home into the blizzard under heavy layers of clothing after covering an extra shift for your co-worker who caught the flu in this weather.

You buried your hands inside the fluffy pockets of your coat and hid your face under your scarf to shield you.

Loki and Thor ran through the snow-covered streets of New York chasing after the remaining HYDRA super soldier that stole a rune dagger made from the stinger of a creature from Jotunheim. The same creature in the stories guards the powerful orb. Both are directly connected to each other and have the ability to link the minds of the person's variants, accessing the past, present, and future of one's self in different multiverses. HYDRA was supposed to use the dagger to learn how to unlock this knowledge on Earth, as everything connected to it has been long lost in Asgard. The soldier was almost successful in getting away after fending off Thor and Loki by spreading nerve gas and creating chaos along the way.

────────────────────────

As you were lost in your thoughts, you noticed people around you starting to scramble and run away. You tried assessing the situation and noticed that a super soldier was headed in your direction. You made sure that the people were safe before stepping in and blocking the super soldier. He triggered an unpleasant piece of memory you tried to bury deep in your subconscious.

He ran straight at you, but you were able to use his momentum to throw him straight to the ground and drop an axe kick to his gut before punching him square in the face for good measure, knocking him senseless with a few broken bones.

Before starting your new life as an EMT in New York, you were secretly trained to become an assassin for years by your HYDRA captors after they discovered you were frozen in a lake in Antarctica. You exhibited great fighting skills, exceeding super soldiers even without using the serum, despite lacking any hint of memory prior to being captured. They tried experimenting on you way too many times to discover what you are or where you're from—the best they could come up with was that you were not from Earth.

You were staring down at the unconscious soldier beneath you when your scarf flew away. You scrambled to catch it, but someone got to it first. You looked at the person, and your heart pounded like a battering ram against your chest. You took the scarf and meekly said thanks, but your eyes were locked against each other.

For years, you were their best hit person, until one night you were tasked with dispatching the scientist who's been taking care of you since you arrived at the facility, as she was discovered to be a spy for SHIELD. In her dying breath, she urged you to discover who you truly were and not what HYDRA just wanted you to be. It made you run away to start a new life and be who you are now. Maybe in this new life, you could save lives instead of taking them away.

"Isn't that…" Thor whispered to Loki.

"Y/N?" Loki said as he looked at you intently, etching your very being in his mind.

"Oh no, I'm not y/n. You must have gotten the wrong person."

Nobody had ever called you y/n before but it felt like it always has when Loki says it. It felt like your name was y/n all this time, despite this being your first time hearing it. Was it even the first time?

You got lost in your thoughts when a familiar, searing heat ran through your back. Thor was quick to disarm the now-conscious soldier when he found out he used the rune dagger to stab you. Loki caught you in his arms before you started convulsing.

Memories of all of yourselves flashed before your eyes—what was, what is, and what will be all flashing before you, even your lost memory. You saw the timeline where both you and Loki died after you tried obtaining the orb by Odin's orders. You saw how you fought and defeated the creature in a different universe, with you dying before Loki could get to you and him dying in grief because of your death, encased in permafrost in Jotunheim.

There was also a brighter alternate reality where Loki was a famous actor going by the name of Tom, and there was you—a young scientist working at his grandfather's company. You caught his eye when he came there for a visit, and everything started when he invited you for a cup of coffee. You ended up marrying him and having a daughter together. It was perfect how you welcome him with a kiss every time he comes home from work and your daughter rushes to be carried in her father's arms.

You saw your own past in this universe before you arrived on Earth, Loki was about to confess his love for you when you arrived from one of your battles, and you were about to too, but Odin did not like that, so before you both could, he sent you away to obtain the orb in exchange for his blessing.

In this timeline, Loki thought you knew about his intention and you decided to run away, so he did not pursue you any further, but the reality was that, instead of facing the creature, Laufey found you first and fought against you. Your prowess and resilience made him admire you as a warrior. Instead of killing you, he ended up wiping all of your memory using the orb and banishing you to Midgard, where you were encased in permafrost, which HYDRA discovered.

It felt like forever processing everything all at once, but Loki held you tightly in his arms to protect you from hurting yourself as tears flooded your eyes. You passed out in his arms shortly after. One thing is for sure, in every timeline - you are connected to Loki by the red string of fate.

"What do you intend to do, brother, with the dagger and with her?" Thor asked, handing him the dagger and glancing at you.

Loki took the dagger and used his seidr to vanish it away. "We need to get to the bottom of this. But for now, I need to protect y/n, more than ever. I can't bear to lose her again, brother. We are bringing her to the tower for now; then we must head to Asgard." He spoke as he looked at you. He tucked in the stray hair covering your face behind your ears to take a closer look—you are indeed his y/n, the love of his life.

There are a million things running through his mind right now, but seeing you, he knew he had found a part of him that he tried to lock away when you were gone, a part that loved you and connected both of you against time, space, and all of the multiverse. He swore secretly to himself that he wouldn't lose you again—not in this timeline at least.

[beardedmrbean]

A grieving New Jersey mom, whose 11-year-old daughter is said to have taken her own life in a school bathroom, is demanding to see security footage to prove the pre-teen was alone at the time. 

Elaina LoAlbo is still waiting to see critical evidence related to her 11-year-old daughter, Felicia LoAlbo-Melendez’s unexpected February death, which investigators have ruled a suicide. 

“Over the last eight weeks they have refused to show me any video tape footage, and several emails in reference to the school about the bullying,” LoAlbo said. 

“I have asked to see the scarf [found in the bathroom], the security tapes and I’ve been locked out of her school [online] account since before she had even passed.”

LoAlbo said she fears someone else could have been in some way involved in her daughter’s death.

Felicia LoAlbo-Melendez, 11, took her own life in February, according to police.Facebook/Layna Marie

“And until I see footage proving otherwise, that will remain in the forefront of my mind,” she added.

“Show me the tapes and prove it to me … If I saw the tapes, 100% it would help me get some kind of closure.” 

LoAlbo admitted the pre-teen’s death came after rounds of vicious bullying from her peers, which had prompted her to write a number of emails requesting help from the school and its counselor, whom Felicia was visting regularly with.

LoAlbo said her daughter, who only turned 11 in December, had been bullied “for many years,” and she has had to personally call another students’ parent to ask them to help the bullying stop.

“They were telling her to ‘unalive’ herself, they called her all kinds of derogatory names, put gum in her hair, stole from her,” she recalled. 

Felicia LoAlbo-Melendez and her mother Elaina.Facebook/Layna Marie

Felicia punched one student who told her to “unalive” herself, LoAlbo said. 

“But even then, there was never any repercussion from the school, no follow up. Nobody called me, nobody talked to me about that incident,” she went on. 

LoAlbo said Felicia was set to be switched to a new class after winter recess to get her away from the bullies, but it never happened.

LoAlbo charged the school had “tried to cover up” her daughter’s bullying in the past, and then tried “to cover everything else up when it comes to the details of her passing.”

According to her mother, Felicia was the victim of constant bullying.Facebook/Layna Marie

She added her husband, Felicia’s father, died in late January just weeks after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Felicia had been undergoing therapy before and after her father’s death, LoAlbo said.  

But LoAlbo said “there were no signs” her daughter was experiencing suicidal thoughts. 

“There was no Google searches or anything referencing self-harm,” she said. “You’re not going to learn to tie a noose without some kind of Google search.”

She said her daughter had never harmed herself in the past.

“A kid doesn’t just doesn’t hang themselves in the bathroom without ever contemplating suicide. That’s just not how these things happen,” she told The Post. 

Felicia and her mother Elaina before she lost her daughter and husband within two months.Facebook/Layna Marie

A student at F.W. Holbein School in Mount Holly, New Jersey, discovered Felicia’s unresponsive body around 1 p.m. February 6, the prosecutor’s office previously said. 

The office described how she had been discovered “after hanging herself in a closed” bathroom stall. She was ultimately rushed to a Philadelphia hospital, but could not be saved. 

Felicia died two days later. That Friday, investigators told her mother “they thought it was suicide and she had a scarf around her neck on the floor,” LoAlbo recounted to The Post. 

The Philadelphia Medical Examiner’s Office determined Felicia had committed suicide and died of “complications from hanging.” 

Elaina says she will get closure if she can see footage proving her daughter was alone when she tragically died

Last week, the prosecutor’s office cited surveillance footage in reporting Felicia “was alone in the restroom when this tragic action occurred.”

Several school and school district officials did not respond to The Post’s requests for comment throughout the day Monday. 

But a spokesperson for the Burlington County Prosecutor’s Office told The Post the video would soon be released LoAlbo.

“It was previously communicated that we would accommodate her request to view the school surveillance recording at the appropriate time, but not while the criminal investigation was ongoing,” the spokesperson wrote in a statement.

“The investigation has concluded, and arrangements will be made in the near future for Ms. LoAlbo to be shown the footage.”

If you are struggling with suicidal thoughts or are experiencing a mental health crisis and live in New York City, you can call 1-888-NYC-WELL for free and confidential crisis counseling. If you live outside the five boroughs, you can dial the 24/7 National Suicide Prevention hotline at 988 or go to SuicidePreventionLifeline.org.

[flyingwargle]

to survive the desert means to be acquainted with the sand, indomitable against the sun, free like the wind that stirs the arid environment. nature is beholden to no one; instead, all are caught within its cradle known as the great red sand, pressed by the wall of samiel on one side, the other whose boundaries are lost in the expanse of land.

for all that dehya traverses between the rainforests and deserts, she never sees the same thing twice. the dusted trail that leads from caravan ribat to aaru village can both serve as the setting of a horror story or the miraculous conclusion of an adventure. apam woods glistens beneath the persistent rainfall but becomes cloaked in shadows in the dead of night. sumeru city is as bright as a scholar's aspirations during the day but as dark as the snuffed candle on a writing desk by nightfall.

the same can be said with the people she encounters. in one minute, she can joke with fellow eremites, and in the next, fight against said eremites. a merchant might have broken the wheel on his cart while another might mistreat his sumpter beasts. the general mahamatra might be seen lifting a man thrice his weight by the scarf around his neck, or he might be seen doodling in the sand with a stick.

dehya leans over him to watch. "whatcha drawing?"

they're in the middle of a joint operation. it's the same narrative – desperate scholar uses hired muscle to coerce more accomplished scholars for their research notes, and she's hired by the victims to get them back. the pay isn't that great, honestly, but she's bored and needs a valid cause to throw punches for.

cyno doesn't pause. he sketches a perfect nilotpala lotus in the sand, followed by a scarab. it's definitely not as refined as an artist, but better than her. "what are these for?"

"don't you find it odd that these lotuses float on the surface of the water?" cyno asks.

she stares at him. "uh, not really..."

"whereas scarabs can be found underground."

"okay..."

"so if a lotus and scarab met..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "who would you say would be lower than the other?"

pause. dehya straightens and gazes into the distance. "so, when are they coming?"

"what, not funny?"

"not in the slightest."

he jabs the stick into the sand with the same force as he would attack someone with his polearm. "hm. i thought of it this morning."

"the sun's fried your brain."

"or maybe you're fry-tened by my jokes."

"no."

cyno rolls his eyes as he takes out a ratty notebook from his pocket. "the flame-mane has quite the standards."

dehya takes a peek, leveraging her height advantage. she watches him cross off several lines of chicken scratch and jot other notes. it's unlike the standard-issued stationery from the akademiya. the cover is dark green with the corners are bent. before he can slip it away, she grabs it. "is this your joke book?"

"somewhat."

she flips through the pages. there are more jokes, some she has heard before, many that she hasn't. then, she sees doodles, mostly plants and animals. at the start, however, the handwriting is completely different, along with sketched diagrams of fauna. she flips through it again to identify the transition. "you stole this from someone?"

"also somewhat. it's a long story."

"for a short book? impressive."

cyno shoots her a look. she shrugs. "we've been on the job for a week. you rubbed off on me."

"it used to be tighnari's. we accidentally swapped notebooks and never returned them."

"oh, that sounds familiar." dehya takes out her makeup box. "i accidentally took one of candace’s brushes. i don't think she ever noticed."

"tighnari noticed, all right." the amusement in his voice is light, a faint smile upon his lips. "it was hard not to since i was chasing him."

"like, with a polearm or romantically?"

cyno stands. "i'll let you guess. our guests have arrived."

a small group of shadowed individuals finally appear in the sand. weapons manifested, they prepare to confront them. "finally, some action. wanna bet who kicks the most ass?"

"what does the winner get?"

"you tell me your story."

"fine." the general mahamatra adjusts his headpiece before jumping forward. "you tell me yours if i win!"

they land in a cloud of dust, weapons pointed. dehya steps forward with a grin. "sorry to crash the parties, fellas, but we've got business. the gloves are coming off!"

"judgment is upon you!"

the air explodes in a shower of sparks and flames.

[lcstromonov]

Anya Romanov is based on Anastasia from Anastasia. She is a 31 year old gifted human, temp worker, and uses she/her pronouns. She has the power of clairvoyance. Anya is portrayed by Riley Keough.

anya’s earliest memories were her time in the orphanage. she knew she just had arrived there one day lost and confused and that once she was there she was stuck unless she was either adopted or too old to stay. anya never wanted to be adopted into a family she knew wasn’t hers when she had this strong feeling that her real family was still out there, looking for her. the ladies running the orphanage thought she was crazy for thinking she was wanted somewhere but deep down, she just knew it.

she got into trouble constantly at the orphanage because she didn’t handle authority well. she has always been headstrong and stubborn to the point of being told what to do by people who didn’t understand her drove her crazy. she was told she acted like she was better than everyone, too snooty, but she was just trying to stay true to who she was, whoever that was. she didn’t have time for rules that were simply made to be broken in her eyes.

the only thing she kept to herself was her curse. she has always thought of it as a curse because ever since she can recall it has done nothing but torment her. at first she thought she was just having dreams, vivid as ever that would hit her whenever they felt like it.  sometimes the visions she had were little things; a kid running too fast and tripping and bruising their knees, the lunch for the day as clear as day in her head, stuff like that. she thought it was just intuition and nothing worth being worried about until they turned into more serious things. images of people dancing in a grand ball, a music box playing a familiar melody; things that were clearly in the past but was it her past she didn’t know. all she knew was that they came quickly and they were maddening. like she was painting pictures but still not capturing the entire scene.

the visions didn’t stop as she grew older, in fact they just started to happen more. anya felt as if she was going crazy for real for thinking they were trying to tell her something. that they wanted her to go somewhere, find someone. but the moment she was old enough to leave the orphanage instead of getting humble work and living in some small town like she could, she decided to follow her visions. her visions kept going back to a forest and she spent many years looking for it. she got odd jobs in towns here and there but she never stayed long enough to make her mark anywhere.

she never thought evermore would be the place she settled down in and it wasn’t really her choice. she had entered the town thinking it was just another step along the road; the woods called to her more than others did. but when she tried to leave she....couldn’t. and that was almost harder to accept than not knowing where she came from. she has been in evermore for almost a year now and it still feels both new and not. she hasn’t felt confident enough to call it home because she feels like she still hasn’t quite found home yet.

once she found out that she was not going anywhere anytime soon she used the money she had been saving to get a really cheap apartment for just herself. it wasn’t much and there was always something to repair, but she always ended up just fixing things herself. it was a good way to distract herself from the uneasiness she felt about settling.

not long after arriving in evermore she was confronted by a stray dog that stole her scarf. considering it was the middle of winter when she arrived she had to chase the little guy down for it, but once she realized he was a stray she decided to keep him. his name is pooka and he is her very best friend. he goes almost everywhere with her, being small enough that she can still stuff him into her coat pockets. he sleeps in her bed with her every night.

anya’s job is really anything she can make a quick buck at. she doesn’t like staying at the same job for long so being a part of a temp place seemed appropriate for her. her favorite job is when she can play piano or sing at a local bar or party and her least favorite jobs are the ones that have her working in the hot sun for twelve hours in the summer. the funny thing is anya didn’t even know she knew how to play the piano until she tried to. it felt...like she had been doing it for a long time. like it was just an extension of her.

anya has discovered that alcohol and some good party drugs can really fog up the visions she has. so naturally, she goes out a lot. she likes a good party and she likes being able to get away from the visions plaguing her thoughts.

like everything else in her life, anya is terrible at committing to any and all relationships. she doesn’t have many friends. when it comes to romance....ha that’s funny. she doesn’t have a love life. she has hook ups that normally happen after she had made some morally questionable choices at a bar and that is really that.

she is the one that normally leaves them on read, sometimes by accident, sometimes not. she honestly wouldn’t have a phone at all if she didn’t need it for work. she doesn’t have any social media and doesn’t really use it other than for texting and maybe playing a stupid game for a few when she can’t fall asleep easily.

anya has always been a wild child and she thinks that is why she has such a soft spot for kids. she gets their restless energy, their desire to see the good in all the bad. she wishes more than anything she could just let all her worries go and go back to being a child, even if she doesn’t remember her childhood. she has always had a strong feeling that it was filled with love and happiness, which is enough to get her by.

ever since she woke up in that orphanage anya has kept a journal containing the details of her visions. she is hoping that recording it will help it all make sense but....so far not really.

a lot of people think that because anya dresses in either baggy clothes or really casual outfits that she doesn’t care about dressing up, but she actually loves it. she loves an excuse to put a nice dress on and doll herself up. she just...doesn’t normally have a reason to do that. her wardrobe isn’t much but that’s because she’s used to not having much.

her most prized possession is the necklace she wears. she has had it since she awoke that day at the orphanage. it’s a beautiful necklace and the back of it says together in paris. she has yet to be to paris and at this rate she probably never will be but....just having that necklace grounds her.

anya has a mouth on her. she isn’t the type to really filter her opinions and she will check someone if they are out of line. she isn’t afraid to fight either. she’s gotten into her fair share of brawls before evermore and even though she hasn’t had to throw hands here yet, she is always ready for the occasion.

anya can speak fluent russian. she doesn’t even remember how she knows russian she just knows it comes naturally to her. it only really seems to come out when she is so angry she can’t stop shaking.

all in all anya is a lost soul, always searching for home, never quite finding her place. she has no idea what she is doing or what she wants to do with her life, so she takes it day by day. she is hopeful that her memories will someday return to her but in the meantime....she is just trying to figure out how she can get to her next destination.

[greenlodgecypher]

The Christmas Ghost, 2/4

Part 1

When she stumbled across a man in her path, well, at first she thought she'd found him. But this wasn't nice young Daniel from down the way. This was a tall stranger, taller than Daniel, and wearing a nice suit. "Good evening," says he.

"Good evening. Aren't you cold?" Asks she. He wasn't wearing any coat, and it was dead of night. "Not on a temperate night like this," says he. "Have you seen a boy, about my age?" asks she. "No one on my grounds," says he. "No one except you." Now Mabel was confused by that. She knew more or less whose land she was on. She also knew everyone in those parts; it was that kind of town. And she knew he wasn't from around there. "I'm Mabel Williams," says she. "I'm sorry to be on your land, but I might have lost myself." "You certainly have," says he. "Shouldn't be traveling on Christmas Night, if you don't want to lose yourself." "Might you be able to direct me back?" By now she's got a sort of a bad air from him, and she wants to get home. Scarf or no scarf. "I might," he says with a terrible grin. "And I might not." "Well, by all means," says she. "All? Oh, you needn't use all means. But I'll have three," says he. "Christmas tree roping, strong enough for me to string my bow with. Sweets, made from the ocean. And the nectar of an evergreen fruit." Mabel realized she should have been more careful with her words. What bowstring made of crepe paper wouldn't snap? Mabel’d never seen the ocean but she was sure and certain its water wasn’t sweet. And fruit nectar she knew about, but what came from pine trees but sap? She still didn't want to give this man the upper hand. "I'll give you your means," she said. "Let me go home tonight, and I'll have them on New Year's day, at sunrise." He grinned, and his grin was worse than before. "The rising sun won't stop me," he said. "I'll hold you to that deal." "Well, then." Mabel was feeling defiant, but she knew as she said it that she hadn't any idea what to do. "I'm going home. A pleasant Christmas to you!" The man bowed mockingly, and Mabel turned her back on him. She didn't look behind her as she walked away, but the woods were terribly silent around her. When she got home, her parents weren’t happy, but she didn’t give it much mind. She had worse things to think on now, and the next morning, she stole away to her mother's mother. "Granny Setter," she said, "What am I supposed to do?" She told her granny the whole story. "I don't know if he's the Evil One or what," she said. "But I think he'll come looking for those things, or I'm not Mabel." Her grandmother took a long look at her, and then laughed. "You're definitely Mabel," she said.

Three

[ruckystarnes]

Title: Sun & Sand

Author: RuckyStarnes

Card: B018

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: WinterWitch

Warnings: fluff, flirting, pining, lip biting

Rating: Teen

Words: 3,054

Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

Event: Bucky Barnes Bingo

Prompt/Square: K3: Butts, Biceps, and Barnes

Summary: Wanda wanders down to the beach for alone time

Type: Fic

Wanda adjusted the scarf in her hair before looking doing another once over in the mirror. The dark red bikini was a perfect fit, except it didn’t cover the god awful scar she had on her left side that she sustained in Sokovia years prior: twenty-four stitches left almost a five inch dotted and jagged red mark between two ribs. She wasn’t afraid to show it, but she hated when people asked about it, even if they were friends. The first time Lila asked, Wanda had tears in her eyes as she explained that she got it defeating killer robots. From then on, Wanda made sure she didn’t wear or do anything that would prompt the question again. Her fingers grazed lightly over the raised, pale pink mark, lower lip pulled between her teeth. She normally would wear a one piece but it was a hot and humid day in New York and she was the only one at the compound for once; she wanted to go down to the beach when no one was around. It wasn’t like she was embarrassed or hated to be around people, it was more of one particular person she didn’t want to be around: Steve’s best friend, Bucky.

Ever since the dark haired, brooding centurion came to stay with them, she found herself hiding in her room more or leaving the room when he entered, face red. She could hear Steve reassure him that it wasn’t because of who he was, stating that they both had shared life experiences, but because she wasn’t a sociable person. And Steve wasn’t a liar. She barely talked to anyone outside of Vision and Steve, if they prompted, and confided in Clint when he called. Only he knew the real reason why she hid from Bucky. The first time she met him in Germany, protecting him from Tony because Clint and Steve said it was important (and it was, she would never deny that), she noted how handsome he was, worn but handsome. She stole glances at the man as they went over what they were gonna do, enamored by how he was quiet yet authoritative at the same time. When she saw him again, years later on that day Steve brought him ‘home’, he lost some weight, but looked healthier, happier. She couldn’t help but dabble into his mind, making note that he had a thought about her: she was pretty. It was enough to have her avoid him at every chance, unsure how to even approach him when she wasn’t sure about herself.

Wanda dropped her hand and sighed at her reflection, the memory of Bucky had her drifting off into a fantasy she entertained herself with from time to time, one that would embarrass her if anyone found out. The sound of her phone snapping her back to reality. She rushed to it, smiling softly as she saw Laura’s name flash on the screen.

“Hello?” Wanda rushed, turning to grab the towel and bag she had packed before changing. She cradled the phone in the crook of her neck and reached for the white silk duster off the bed and pulled it on.

“Hey Wanda,” Laura replied, and Wanda could hear the smile in her voice, “did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no. I was just about to go down to the beach for a breather and maybe a bit of a swim.”

“Alone?”

“You know I can fly, right?” Wanda teased as she walked through the hall and grabbed her straw hat and sunglasses off the table. 

“Still could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Wanda replied, smiling as Laura laughed. She loved using the moniker for her friend’s wife, because she did become a mother figure to her over the last few years, helping her adjust to having people there that weren’t family and that she could depend on them if she needed. “But what is it that you want? I might lose you when I get to the path.”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you had talked to Clint recently.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes and scrunched her nose, thinking when it was the last time he called her.

“He called last Tuesday, is everything okay?”

“Oh! Everything is great! I’m surprised he didn’t call you right after I told him, thinking he would want to spread the word, but it seems like he’s being tight lipped about it right now.”

“Well, I’m sure the farm and kids have him busy. What is it that you told him?” Wanda hated being led on in a conversation over the phone because she couldn’t just hop into the person’s head to find out where they were leading on to.

“What are you doing in about five months?”

“Five months? Nothing I don’t think? I mean, that’s unless Steve needs me to go somewhere or what. Why?”

“I was–Well, we were wondering if you would like to be the godmother of our new addition,” Laura chuckled at the end, and Wanda had the image of the small brunette sitting in her favorite chair, looking out the bay window at the kids and Clint playing.

“New addition? You mean–Oh! Laura, that’s exciting! Of course!” 

Laura was laughing softly at Wanda’s enthusiasm. The Bartons had become her second family, Lila like a little sister to her, but here was the mother figure in her life asking if she would be the pseudo-guardian of Barton Baby Number Four.

“Oh good, I’ll call you later tonight to see when you come here next. I would love to have your input on some things. I don’t want to interrupt your need to bask in the sun and be alone. Love you, Wanda.”

“Sure, but it’s nice to have alone time. Love you too, Laura.”

The line disconnected and Wanda threw the phone into the bag that she had packed with two towels, sunscreen, her book, and a bottle of water, and she walked down the path that led to the small beach by the lake. Birds were chirping and some small animal was romping in the underbrush, giving a perfect background to her mood. Laura and Clint were having a fourth child and they wanted her to be the godmother, and it added a bounce in her step. The beach slowly came into view, and she did a once over to make sure that there was no one else around, even though she knew there was no one. She found a spot that wasn’t overly lumpy and set down her bag before laying out her towel. She made herself comfortable on it, bringing her knees up to her chest and looked out over the lake. It was a calm day with a slight breeze coming by every so often to make the lake lap lightly against the shore. Her eyes went to the sky: bright blue with stark white fluffy clouds.

“Perfect,” she sighed softly, reaching into her bag for the book she stowed away and placed the large bag behind her, resting against it as best as she could before opening the book up to the last page she read. 

She was deeply involved in the story that she didn’t hear the footsteps coming from the path and down the wooden steps. It wasn’t until she felt the coolness of the sun blocked out on her shoulders that she realized she was no longer alone. The sudden pull from the written fantasy had her throwing the book to the side and scrambling back, her heart pounding against her chest.

“Easy, Maximoff,” a low voice laced with amusement said.

She froze then, recognizing the voice instantly. Her eyes slowly moved upwards to meet the bright blue eyes of Bucky Barnes.

“James,” Wanda breathed, hoping the ex-assassin registered it as her being caught off guard and not because she was enamored.

“Sorry,” he smiled, running his flesh hand through his slightly shaggy hair, “I thought you would’ve heard me. Didn’t think you were fully involved in a book.” He bent down and reached for the book she had tossed, picking it up and smiled wider. “Tolkein?”

“Pietro loved it when we were kids,” she offered, holding out her hand. Instead of the book being placed in it, his metal hand took hers and pulled her up to a standing position.

“You like it? Or are you reminiscing,” he pondered, looking down at the book again and flipped it over to look at the back. His metal hand never let go of hers, so she gently took it from his grip, making the excuse to pat her head with both to make sure her hat was still decently on top. 

“I liked The Hobbit, but never really could get into the other ones,” she replied honestly, her hands falling to her middle to wrap the duster over her midsection. She looked him over as discreetly as she could, noting he was wearing black swim trunks and no shirt, the scarring of where his vibranium arm was attached shone brightly in the sun. His flesh arm was toned, his bicep had to be bigger than her head, and the thought had her biting her lip again and eyes widening.

“I’ll be honest with you, I have only read The Hobbit. Was kind of incompacitated at the time he wrote and released the others. Just never got around to the others,” he added, handing the book back to her, the action making her snap her eyes back to his face. He had a boyish smirk on his face as she took the book with a nod, her free hand still keeping the duster closed.

“Am I interrupting you?” he asked softly, his face falling slightly as he looked her over. Her body felt hot and she shifted under his gaze.

“N-no, just wasn’t expecting anyone here. No one else was home,” she forced out, “It's nice sometimes to have–”

“Peace.” 

“Yeah. Sometimes Steve can be overbearing; always checking up on me, asking how I’m doing.” She chewed her lower lip and looked towards the lake.

“He means well,” Bucky offered, his hand coming up to rest on his hip, “but the punk does worry just like his mother did.” Wanda looked back at him and saw him have a sad smile on his face. “Well, I promise I won’t bother you as much, just going for a little swim, you know, to have some peace.”

Wanda smiled and nodded, sitting back down on the towel still clutching her duster. “I’m here if you need me,” she offered, her cheeks going instantly red at the offer. This was the most time she ever had alone with him and it was making her a bit too bold for her comfort level. She tried to look away from him but her eyes roamed up his frame before looking at his face. “You know, if you need rescuing from drowning or a sea monster or whatever.”

He brought up the flesh hand, two fingers touching his temple before flicking them away in a salute. “Ma’am,” he said with a smile and walked backwards towards the lake. She convinced herself she was imagining the way he looked at her as she sat cross legged on the towel. He finally turned around at the water, giving her a full view of the rippling muscles of his back and backside. When he finally stepped into the water, it was enough to bring her out of her thoughts and look down at her book. 

She sighed softly and leaned back against her bag again, eyes flitting to the water to see Bucky was already swimming across the lake. She stared for a moment before opening the book again, trying to find the page she was on before she was startled by the brunet. She smiled when she found her page, and immersed herself back into the story. 

Time passed, the length unknown to Wanda, but she was at the part where Bilbo was speaking to Gollum with riddles when she felt a cool droplet hit her warmed foot. She looked up and there was Bucky smiling down at her, which she reciprocated almost instantly.

“How far are ya?” Bucky asked, nodding his head towards her book.

“Riddles,” she smiled, closing the book around the bookmark before holding the book up, waving it slightly before turning to put it in her bag. She hadn’t noticed that her duster fell open nor the look that fell over Bucky’s face before she turned back, seeing his smile again. “How was the water?”

“Good. Cool. Refreshing,” he replied, his hands going to his hips as he looked over his shoulders, eyes squinting in the sunlight. “You going in?”

Wanda laughed and shook her head, leaning back on her hands. “Oh no, I don’t swim. One, never learned how, and two, vitamin D feels good right now. I’m afraid that cool water over there would feel mighty cold to me.” 

“Mind if I sit with you then?”

Wanda nodded and offered him the extra towel she had in her bag, which he took happily, stating that sand can be annoying in places, making her turn red and laugh softly. She watched him lay out the towel and sit down on it to her left, careful that his sand-clad feet weren’t on it an inch. She wasn’t sure what to say, as this was the first time she and Bucky were alone together. She felt like a little girl sitting next to her crush in the cafeteria at school: giddy, antsy, and wanting to run.

“Are you usually into fantasies?” Bucky asked, leaning in towards her, his eyes fixed on the lake.

“It’s a great way to escape reality,” she replied softly, tilting her head to the side. “When I was little, before I lost my family, we would watch old American television shows. Papa would find a way of getting a hold of a new tape every so often and we would sit around our small television and watch: Dick Van Dyke, Bewitched, Brady Bunch.”

“Saw that one,” Bucky chuckled, “an interesting way of having a mixed family.”

“Yeah,” Wanda chuckled, “but I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch them again since I lost my parents. Pietro didn’t like the shows as much, but he did like books. At least before he noticed girls. He would read to me every night after we were rescued from the rubble, and The Hobbit was the first one he read to me.” She fell silent for a minute, chewing her bottom lip.

“I used to read it to Steve when he would be on the mend,” Bucky replied softly, “he would either be healing from whatever ass beating he got or from whatever sickness got to him. His mom was gone, so my mother would have me stay with him until he got better.” He sighed heavily, reaching over her for the book, raising a brow at her, and took it when she nodded. “If you want, I can always read to you,” he offered, “that’s if you miss something like that.” He looked down at the book and flipped it open to where she had bookmarked.

Wanda felt her cheeks warm even more, hoping he would think it was just the sun. “Uh–sure. I mean, I would like that,” she replied, managing to keep her voice from shaking. 

Bucky gave her a boyish grin. She noticed his eyes roam along her face and downward briefly before his brows furrowed. 

“Is that when the building fell on you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Wanda blinked slightly and looked down to see where he was looking. The pale pink scar shone brightly in the sun. 

“Oh–um–it was when we were in Sokovia with Steve...when Ultron–”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Bucky rushed out, holding his hands up to her. “I shouldn’t've asked.”

“It’s okay, I just...forgot about it for a second. It’s a constant reminder of losing Pietro, so I try hard not to have it show.” Again, she chewed her lip, pulling her knees up to her chest, and held them close. She was surprised to feel the cool smoothness of metal pull her lip out from between her teeth.

“You should stop that. It’s not good for your lips and jaw.” His hand didn’t pull away, only to cradle her chin with his thumb and finger. She could only nod, and that’s when his hand dropped from her skin. He must have seen her small frown because he laughed and leaned in, bumping into her shoulder. “Nat said she thought you had a crush on me,” he teased lightly.

“Oh god,” Wanda groaned, hiding her face into her knees, his laugh filling her ears. 

“Hey, why are you hiding?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“To have a crush on me?”

“For you to know I have a crush on you.” She took a ragged breath and slowly raised her head to look at him. “I–I didn’t want to bother you with such nonsense. Only because you were still adjusting!” The last bit was rushed out when she saw his face pull into a questioning look. 

“Well, I’m adjusted now,” he smiled at her, his flesh hand coming up to her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. “So it’s not a bother now.”

She turned her head, resting it on her knees as she looked at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replied, “I was waiting to see if you were ready for someone to ask you out. No one could give me a straight answer as you are pretty guarded. Except Nat.”

“She’s pretty good at being a spy,” Wanda scoffed, her cheeks burning. She took off her sunglasses finally and looked at him. “And I told her. Thought I could trust her with that secret.”

“She only told me this morning when we were leaving. She also told me it was a nice day for a swim.”

They looked at each other for a moment before they both started laughing.

“Our little assassin has a soft spot for match making,” Bucky said between breaths, leaning back on his hands.

“She is,” Wanda mused. “That she is.” She made mental note to ask the redheaded spy for a sparring session later.

[theshelbyclan]

Horse Thieves

Summary: The Shelby siblings are still building their imperium, and they need a horse to do it.

(Gif by @madshelby​)

A/N: I asked around a bit and people wanted to read a lot more about Teddy, so I decided to use this request by one lovely anon: Hello! I've never done a request for a fic before so please excuse me if this isn't the right way to do it 🙈 But I noticed your requests were open and read the prompts list you linked to for Shelby sister prompts - so can I request something that incorporates 7.“car. Now”, 8.“what story do you want tonight” and 14.“your heading the right way for a smacked backside”. Thank you! I decided to base this on this idea I had in the longer Teddy series, where she refers to a time when she stole a horse with Tommy. So see this as a prequel if you will, set before the series. Words: 2773

*** “Whatever you do, you’re not using Finn.” “I won’t…” “I mean it, Thomas,” Aunt Polly warned, “You’ve only been back for five minutes from France and I will not have you endangering my nephew, after I’ve kept him safe for fucking four years.” 

Tommy sighed, “Yes, I understand.” Polly looked at her nephew with a distrustful gaze, “Why do we need the horse?” “Betting’s down,” he slowly lit a cigarette, “We need our own. A horse that looks good. Convinces people to lay a bet.” She had to agree with that, “Where will you go?” “To the place where people most expect a horse to be stolen.” “Why?” “Hide in plain sight,” he pointed, “you taught me that.” “I thought I taught you everything…” Polly mused sternly. Tommy nodded slowly, “Maybe. And now I’m acting on it…” After a short pause, he said, “I’m gonna do it, Pol. I’ll make this family rich. Trust me.” “What about the little ones?” “I’m doing this for them, alright, so that they won’t have to grow up like we did!” Fire was burning in his eyes when he spoke, but Polly had never seen him quite like this. He was different these days. After pondering for a while, she said, “So tell me where.” Tommy took a deep breath, knowing she’d disapprove, “The fair.” “For fuck’s sake, Thomas!” *** “WELCOME TO THE FAIR!” Arthur bellowed, which scared most people in his vicinity away, but it made Teddy, who was used to it, literally jump for joy. Arthur grinned broadly and lifted his little sister up onto his shoulders, shouting, “Now look here, sweet girl, this is where we bloody come from and don’t you forget it!” “Arthur, can I have a candied apple?” Teddy asked him, knowing he wouldn’t refuse her anything when he was in a mood like this. “You can have all the apples, Teddy!” he replied with a grand gesture. John came walking besides them and quietly said to his brother, “They’re here.” “Good,” Arthur said uncharacteristically gently, and he lifted Teddy off his shoulders again, “Tommy’s in place.” “What about Finn, Arthur?” he said, playing with his toothpick. Arthur winked at his suddenly much younger brother, “Don’t worry, brother. He’s off playing with the Boswell kids. He’ll be no bloody trouble.” John grinned down at Teddy, “Unlike this one!” “You know why, John?” Teddy asked cheekily, “Because Finn is like Arthur, but I am like you!” John laughed manically out loud and Arthur bellowed, “She’s fucking right!” “How about that apple, Arthur?” Teddy asked innocently, quickly adding a, “Please?” “Wait here, princess.” As they continued walking, John took Teddy’s hand in his and said to her, “Look at all the horses, Teddy. Maybe one day you could have one of your own.” “But I already have the pony you gave me when you came back,” she looked up with adoring eyes. It was no secret that Teddy had four heroes in life, and those were her brothers. He looked down, “Yeah, but one day you’ll have a horse. Promise.” “John?” she asked, suddenly serious, “You won’t go away again, will you?” “Go where? Why would I leave my favourite little girl!” “You did before…” John stopped and turned to her, “Listen, that was the war… You know I don’t like talking about that…” “I know…” “But the war’s over. No more fucking mud for us, alright?” he said earnestly. He tried desperately to hide the pain he felt. Teddy nodded. “I’m sorry,” John blurted out all of a sudden, “I’m sorry we left you. We didn’t know… what it’d be… we thought it would be…” he simply couldn’t find the words. “I know,” she interrupted him in a high voice, “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, alright?” “Alright,” he smiled. Then he changed his tone again, happy to switch subjects, “Now, what story do you want tonight?” “One about a horse!” “How about we get you a real one?” John suggested light-heartedly.

Teddy giggled because she thought he was joking, slipped her hand into his again and started skipping. Then she looked over at Arthur, who was just in the process of stealing an apple for her. It was good to have her brothers back again. 

“Teddy?” John asked, “think you could do something for me?” “Like what?” “Tommy needs our help.” “With what?” her eyebrows shot up. John coughed once and waited for Arthur to join them, “Eat your apple. And listen, Tommy needs us to help him with something.” Mouth full of candied apple, “whaff kinf of somefingff?” “Just do as we tell you to,” John explained, “and then Tommy’ll tell you what to do.” Arthur nodded, “He’s already instructed us.” “Arthur,” John became unsure, “Are we really involving our eight-year-old sister in this?” “She’ll be fine, John-boy! She’s fucking smart, she is.” “I am,” Teddy replied proudly. The candied apple was nearly gone already.

“Alright, Teddy-girl, you listen to me, yeah?” John bend down to her level, “I need you to pretend you got lost, or maybe ask for help, or cry! Can you cry?” Teddy sniffled a little, “I’m not sure,” she then said in her normal voice. “Don’t worry if you can’t! Just scream a lot, alright?” “Wait!” she said, “Give me a second….” And she pouted her lips again, scrunched up her nose and suddenly tears were falling down her cheeks. “Bloody hell…” Arthur mumbled, as he turned to John, “you fucking created a monster.” “I’m crying!” Teddy said triumphantly through her tears, “Now what?” John shook her head to banish the emotions he felt over seeing his baby sister cry, “Go to Tommy.” Teddy quickly darted off and went in search of her other brother. When she found him, she announced herself with, “Look, Tommy, real tears!” “What the fuck?” Tommy replied in shock, “What happened, tell me now!” “Nothing!” she quipped, “John made me.”   “I’ll fucking kill him,” her brother said automatically, “Did he throw you up in the air again?” Teddy grinned, “No, and besides that doesn’t make me cry…” “It did when you broke your arm.” She waved a disinterested hand, “Fine. But I mean he told me to cry because you needed a disattraction! “Distraction.” “Yes!” Tommy knelt down and said in a hushed voice, “Alright, first things first, you can never, ever tell Aunt Polly about this, do you hear me?” Teddy nodded obediently. “I mean it Teddy. She’ll have my fucking balls…” A high voice replied, “Which balls?” He sighed deeply again, regretting his words intensely, “Listen to me, eh? Don’t tell Aunt Pol.” “I will,” but a vague twinkle had come into Teddy’s eyes the second she realised her big tough brother was scared of Aunt Polly too.

Tommy lifted up Teddy and she rested on his hip, hugged close by his arm. She could vaguely smell his hair, his cigarette and a whiff of horse on him. This was her brother, who’d been gone for two whole years. She was only little when he’d gone, but Teddy remembered she cried a lot. All she ever wanted at night was for John to play with her and for Arthur to sit with her and for Tommy to tell her stories. She and Finn used to curl up together and cry. But now he was home, not the same, but still home.

“See them?” Tommy pointed, with a smile playing about his lips like he used to have all the time before the war, “See that family?” Teddy followed his hand with her eyes, “Yeah, the ones with the man with the blue scarf?” “That’s the one,” he nodded, “I need you to distract them.” “Why?” “So I can take their horse.” Teddy turned to face Tommy, and as she grinned, his face lit up as well, “Are we going to steal the horse, Tommy?” Teddy whispered excitedly. “Yes.” She lowered her voice even more, “just you and me?” Softly, he planted a kiss on her head, “Can’t do it without you…” Couldn’t do any of this without you here, he thought, but didn’t say it. “Alright,” he continued, “I’m going to talk to the man with the scarf. Meanwhile, John and Arthur are going to pick a fight with some other men, over by the candied apples, you see?” “That’s why I got an apple…” Teddy mused, slightly disappointed. Tommy quickly got her attention back, “I’ll be talking to him about this other family I know,” he waved a hand, “it’ll be something useless, but I’ll get him to walk away. John-boy is itching to punch someone, so he will, don’t get scared, alright?” Teddy frowned, “I’m not scared of John.” “Now, you see that horse, the black one, by the water?” She peered through the crowd of people and finally caught a glimpse of the beauty. Her eyes lit up in a way that only the Shelby’s eyes light up when looking at a horse. “There’s two boys with him. I need you to go to them. Make sure they walk away from the horse.” “Tommy…” Teddy thought out loud, “Won’t they know it was us?” He smirked at his sister’s intellect, “No. They don’t know us. Besides, they’re feuding with another family here. There’s a war coming, but we won’t be involved this time. Don’t worry about it, eh?” “Why are they fighting, Tommy?” she was not letting it go so easily. “Because I made it happen.” Then he walked a few feet so that they were both hidden from sight, “Now, I need you to distract the boys, and maybe some of the women as well. Cry, if you can, and if anything goes wrong, scream. I know you’re good at that…” “Who will take the horse?” “Johnny Dogs will. He’s close by,” Tommy leaned his forehead onto Teddy’s, “Think you can do it?” “Yes!” “Not too scared?” “Never!” Teddy replied enthusiastically, which slightly worried Tommy, but instead he said, “Go on.” So Teddy walked out behind the tent on her own and started thinking sad thoughts, just to make the tears come easily later on. There wasn’t much need for them though, because as soon as she approached the boys who were washing the horse, one called out, “Piss off!” “Fuck you!” Teddy replied in a flash, “This is free land and I’m a free woman!” she heard Aunt Polly say that once, “I’ll go where I fucking please!” One of the boys pushed her and angrily Teddy shoved him back. Then the second one came for her, and Teddy suddenly remembered her mission. So against all of her instincts, she let herself be pushed to the ground and started howling as soon as she landed. Immediately heads turned and Teddy cried like she hadn’t done in two years, “They pushed me!” But somewhere from out the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur arguing with someone and John landing a punch, almost in slow-motion, and she knew everything went according to plan. “Did not!” the boy protested nervously, “she started it!” Teddy curled up a little and held onto her leg like it was hurting, while trying to make herself as small as possible, “It hurts…” “What have you done!” a strange woman called out to one of the boys, who shrunk visibly as soon as he heard her voice, “fighting little girls now, are you?!” “I didn’t, ma! She started it!” but before he could finish his sentence, he’d gotten the first smack around the head. One down, one more to go. So Teddy upped the tears and it worked beautifully: the second boy didn’t wait for his mother to hear, but decided to run instead. Slowly, Teddy started to calm down, because if she just stood up now and showed it was all fake, everything would’ve been for nothing. She made that mistake once with Finn, and she wouldn’t be doing so again. After about a minute, chaos had descended on the fair. Men were fighting, Tommy was making an already nervous man simply anxious and this side of the camp was almost deserted. But where was Johnny? Teddy got up and hid near the beautiful horse. And then she saw him: somehow Johnny had ended up in the middle of the fight as well. This could ruin everything! “Come,” Teddy beckoned, “Come here! I promise I won’t hurt you…” and much to her own surprise, the horse obeyed. She untied the reigns and like he’d always been hers, he followed her down into the river. Teddy swam a little, wondered for only a second what Aunt Polly would say, and then climbed up onto the horse’s back in the water. From there on, she made a quick decision and urged the horse on. The river was low and couldn’t be seen all the way from the camp, so she kept the route of invisibility. After a while, she spurred the horse on and he climbed the riverside, with the tiny load still on his back. From this distance, Teddy could still see the fair, but because of the trees she was certain they couldn’t see her. “Now what?” she asked the horse, because she hadn’t really thought this through. In reply it neighed. “Shh!” Teddy scolded, “you want me to get caught?” So she steered the horse by its manes and made her way to where the family car was parked. With some luck, everyone else would still be too busy fighting. *** “Teddy!” Teddy turned her head and saw her brothers running, with sheer panic in their eyes. “Where the fuck were you?” Tommy demanded. Teddy shrunk a little at the anger in his voice, “I didn’t know where to go so I went here…” “Car. Now!” Tommy fumed. “That was actually smart, Tom,” Arthur defended her. Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I thought something happened to you… That’s why I tell you not to leave my fucking side!” “I’m sorry…” she whimpered and tears started forming in her eyes again. “Don’t even try that,” John joked, “We know you can pretend now.” Looking caught, Teddy tried to hide the smile she shared with John. “That’s it, Tom,” Arthur walked back and forth to get rid of the adrenaline still coursing through his body, after they found there little sister was missing, “We’re not using our bloody sister again, for anything!” “Agreed,” Tommy said at once. “I thought you wanted the horse?” Teddy questioned. Again Tommy sighed and he lit another cigarette, “No fucking horse is worth losing you over, Teddy.” And that’s when she realised he wasn’t angry, just worried. “No fucking horse,” Arthur agreed. “But…” she started. John interrupted, “Forget about the horse, Teddy, we’re just glad you’re okay.” “But…” “Besides, we can get a horse some other way, eh?” Tommy continued, “Might even pay for it…” “But…” Tommy held up a hand, “Stop interrupting me, Teddy.” Instead Teddy interrupted him, “But the fucking horse is fucking here!” she pointed beyond the car at the woods, “Look! I rode him here after Johnny didn’t show up!” “I’ll be fucking damned,” Arthur blurted out, “she rode the fucking horse here.” John burst out laughing and simply high-fived Teddy, but Tommy looked as stunned as Arthur did. Anxiously, Teddy waited for Tommy’s reply, occasionally saying things like, “Johnny wasn’t coming,” and “my tears were almost dried up,” and “it wasn’t really my fault, the horse just followed me!” “Teddy Shelby,” Tommy said finally, “you little horse thief…” “You told me to,” Teddy said pointedly, but couldn’t quite hide the pride in her voice. “Oh, so this is our fault, eh?” Teddy shrugged and put on an angelic face, “Well, Arthur taught me how to steal, John taught me how to cry and you told me what to do…”

He pointed at her, “You’re heading the right way for a smacked backside...” Again Tommy looked at the horse and then he coughed a short laugh, “Alright, you win. We’re all horse thieves. Go get your horse.” “Mine?” “Yours.” As Teddy got the horse, the brothers still couldn’t get over the fact that she just did all of that. “Before we go home, there’s just one more thing, Teddy,” Tommy said, “Tell me again what I made you promise.” “Don’t tell Aunt Polly about this.” “Or?” he said menacingly, hoping he still had some authority over her by usually being the one who punished her, when he wasn’t teaching her how to steal that is… “She’ll have your balls.” Tommy eyed his two brothers who doubled over in laugher, but decided to ignore that. “Good girl.”

*** Masterlist

[earlgreydream]

butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles​ i’m so soft for draco 

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you. 

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class. 

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you. 

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled. 

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy. 

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration. 

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly. 

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat. 

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.” 

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S. 

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons. 

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince. 

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.” She asked shyly, and Draco sat up. 

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her. 

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric. 

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.” 

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm. 

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm. 

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans. 

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face. 

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing. 

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.” 

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss. 

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.” 

“Come on, let’s get going.” 

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco. 

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.” 

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.” 

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley. 

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat. 

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold. 

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you. 

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle. 

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore. 

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you. 

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly. 

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter. 

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer. 

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all. 

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost. 

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps. 

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat. 

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly. 

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms. 

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

[boldlyanxious]

Nacho

Part of meet cute Mondays

All fic masterlist

Marinette hadn't even realized when she left with the outfit that it had been damaged. But once she pulled it out, it was very obvious. She immediately started apologizing. Jagged loved it though. He thought the chewed parts gave it a very authentic edge. That worked great. He couldn't stop grinning about it and telling Her she didn't need to worry about it.

But that wasn't her concern. She knew that her dog would still need to go. This wasn't the first incident. Jagged may like the rough edges and authentic metal look but he was the only of her clients that would. Her landlord has sent a letter reminding her that dogs were not allowed and threatening fines for any damage.

Luckily the apartment didn't have any damage even though it was far too small for Nacho. Her work supplies were not so lucky. He had managed to pull down a pile of fabrics and made his own bed. He chewed her favorite shoes and several spatulas. She spent an entire evening reorganizing paperwork because he knocked over the small desk her files were on.

She probably should have left him at the shelter. She had gone looking for a hamster. A rescued one had babies but they were all adopted, as well as the mother, by the time she made it there. She knew she didn't have the time or energy for a dog but he looked so sad. She heard them talking and he was on his way to be put down because no one wanted to adopt him. She couldn't just leave him there.

He didn't even have a name. He had been brought in after being found where he had been dumped by whatever heartless person attempted to harm him instead of finding a shelter. He immediately perked up when Marinette brought him outside. He dragged her all over as he excitedly sniffed everything. She was happy to let him. He was such a sweet pup. Most everyone was giving him pats as he approached. One man was likely more interested in talking to Marinette so that didn't interest the dog, but Marinette was distracted being polite when he lunged for a table with a startled looking teen couple. He jumped into their table and helped himself to their nachos.

So he had a name.

Marinette stopped at the same place to get him some nachos before she guided him back to the shelter. She could feel the tears coming so she turned down a side street and sat on the curb rather than at a table. She already had tears streaming down her face by the time she sat. Nacho hesitated before scarfing down the treat, enjoying her arms around him.

"Pretty sure that isn't a good thing for a dog."

Marinette looked up at the voice. She hadn't even been paying attention. No one else was around and there wasn't really any place to run. Even if she could. He was already standing over her, tall and muscled. She was at a disadvantage sitting down and curled over her dog.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

His voice was soft and had lost the teasing edge it had before he saw her face. Rather than standing over her he sat on the other side of Nacho in an obviously relaxed pose in response to her tense reaction. Nacho wasted no time climbing on him and licking his face.

"I don't want to bother you with my troubles. I'm sure you have worries of your own."

"I did ask. It has to be something to make a beautiful woman stop everything and cry on a nice day with such a perfect dog."

Whatever he expected from his flirty comment it wasn't for her to start crying harder. Nacho climbed on her to comfort her without knowing the source of her distress. A cautious hand touched her shoulder with a gentle squeeze before sliding to the middle of her back and patting briefly. Marinette collapsed into the stranger and held onto his arms while he awkwardly continued to pat her. It took a moment before she remembered that he was a stranger and pulled away suddenly.

She flushed brightly as she wiped away her tears and tripped over herself apologizing repeatedly before she jumped up to continue on her way. She was at the corner trying to coax Nacho along but he didn't want to turn towards the shelter.

"Clearly things aren't going well if you can't even convince the dog," he said.

"I don't really want to convince the dog, but I have no other choice."

She reached down to pet the dog before turning back to the man. She welcomed the interruption because she didn't want to keep walking.

"It can't be as bad as all that."

"I can't keep him." She bit back a sob. "I knew a dog wasn't a great idea but I couldn't leave him. He was scheduled to be put down. They told me if I brought him back they would have to do it anyway. None of the other shelters could take him either."

"That really sucks. Can't you give him to a friend?"

"I'm pretty new here. I don't have any friends here that I could ask for a favor like that."

"What about a handsome stranger?"

Marinette looked back at him in surprise. He definitely was handsome.

"You mean you would take him?"

"Did you have your eye on another handsome stranger?" She slowly shook her head no. "I rent a house with a yard. I travel sometimes but I could send him to my family's place. There is a lot of land and my little brother's dog to play with."

"You just want to adopt a random dog off the street with no warning? It's a lot of work."

"Well, I've been wanting a dog for awhile. He is friendly and seems to like me. He also has the added bonus of convincing you to give me your number so you can visit him."

"I could still see Nacho?" Marinette asked, smiling.

"Nacho?"

"He didn't have a name. I was going to think about it, but he stole nachos from some kids and it seemed to fit."

"I think it's perfect. What about your name?"

Oh. Sorry. I'm Marinette," she said, sticking out her hand.

"Jason," he took her hand as he replied. "I'll need your phone number too."

Marinette put her number into his phone and he texted so she would have his. They walked back the way they came and Marinette leaned down to tell Nacho bye. He stopped her before they walked off separate ways.

"Now it's this number just for dog updates or can I use it to ask you out too?"

Taglist

@theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @technicallyburninggarden | @iloontjeboontje | @certainmuffinbagelcalzone | @zynna

[sequinsmile-x]

28 and 45 fluff right now do it right now chop chop

Hi bestie!! I hope you like this.

Prompts are from this list

Fluff 28: "Can I stay here tonight?" & 45: "Take my hand. Trust me."

Words: 1k

Warnings: A bit of cursing.

She always kept a closer eye on him during cases to do with kids. She watched as he easily replaced the faces of dead children with that of his son, seeing Jack laying bloody and broken on the floor instead of the actual victims. Emily found herself doing the same more and more now they were together.

Their romantic relationship was still relatively new, built on a strong foundation of friendship. Days and nights spent at the Hotchner’s apartment that blurred into one. She helped Jack with his French homework that seemed to baffle his father. Aaron attempted to teach her to cook, saying she couldn’t spend the rest of her life eating take out for every meal. He’d asked her to dinner once, just the two of them, and she beamed at him when she realised he was asking her on a date.

Aaron had pressed his lips to her cheek outside of her apartment door when he dropped her home, and as he pulled away Emily grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him back to her, kissing him fiercely and properly, only stopping when her neighbour loudly cleared his throat at them an undetermined amount of time later. Aaron had stepped away from her like she had burnt him, and she blushed as she let them both into her apartment, both of them laughing as the door closed behind them. She kissed him again and dragged him up the stairs to her bedroom, her laughter echoing around them.

They went for breakfast the following morning, both with poorly hidden marks on their necks, smiling at each other as they shared a stack of pancakes.

Two months later Emily sat in her hotel room, worried about her boyfriend. He’d found the body of their third victim that day, an 8 year old boy who looked a little bit too much like his own son. Emily was considering going to his room, thinking of breaking their one cardinal rule, when she hears a slight knock on her door. She opens it quickly, knowing it could only be Aaron and lets him in.

He pulls her into his arms before the door is fully closed behind him, his face buried in her hair. Emily holds him just as tightly, her hand stroking up and down his back.

“It’s ok, honey.” She whispers, kissing his throat where her face was pressed. “Jack’s ok. He’s at home safe with Jessica.”

He smiles into the top of her head, squeezing her tighter to him. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Whatever she had thought he was going to say it wasn’t that. She pulls back enough to look at him, a confused look on her face.

“Aaron-”

“I know we said not on cases.” He says, kissing her gently. “I just...don’t want to be alone.”

Emily smiles sadly at him and cups his cheek. She knew how hard this was for him, how much he sometimes struggled to let his guard down enough to let her in like this, so any admission like that stole away any argument she had.

“Ok.” She says, kissing him. She rests her forehead against his and strokes his cheek with her thumb. “I want to take you somewhere first though.”

It’s his turn to look confused, an eyebrow quirked at her. “Em, baby, it’s freezing outside.”

“Well we’ll go get your coat before we leave then.” She says as if it is the easiest thing in the world. She pulls away from him completely and shrugs her coat over her pajamas, made up of a sweater and a pair of sweatpants. She pulls her scarf on too, smiling at him as he still looks at her confused.

“Take my hand.” She says, holding her hand out to him. He stares at her for a moment, his fingers twitching at his side. She rolls her eyes at him, thrusting her hand a little harder towards him. “Just trust me.”

He takes her hand, and Emily knows he would follow her anywhere.

(And she would follow him.)

__________________

Their hands are clasped and in the pocket of his coat as she leads them away from where they were staying, away from the team and all the case files containing photos of the awful crimes they were investigating.

They speak about everything and nothing, and he pulls her closer to him when she shivers in the freezing night air. Once they’ve been walking for about ten minutes they make it to a park and she spots a bench, leading him over to it. They sit, pressed closely together to share their body heat against the chilly air.

“I saw this place earlier when we drove through town.” She explains, leaning into his side. “It seemed like it would be peaceful.” She looks up at him and kisses him, his lips cold against hers. “I thought you could use a break.”

He smiles against her kiss. “Thank you.” He looks up at the sky and can see the stars, bright in a way he never saw them back home. “It’s nice here. Peaceful.” She shivers against him and he laughs. “Fucking freezing though.”

Emily laughs before turning to look at him properly, her hand guiding his face so he was looking directly at her. She raises an eyebrow at him. “Well, we should find a way to warm up.”

She is kissing him before he can tell her it’s a bad idea, and just like whenever they were together they lose track of time, lost in the feel of each other, right up until someone identifying themselves as a police officer on the other side of the park yells at them, a vague warning about public indecency thrown their way.

They laugh all the way back to her hotel room and warm each other up under the sheets.

The following morning they both avoid looking at each other when a cop in the precinct break room tells his colleagues about a couple he found going at it in the park the night before.