#the history fic and road trip fic are sharing

[calamitoustide]

history fic snippet perhaps :)

There was nothing Jamie wouldn’t let her do. She waited as Reg dived straight into her open eyes, to drown in the sea that hides between them. Jamie did the same, finding the little green specks in Regulus’ eyes, and trying to navigate between the little branches sprouting. “Why do you keep coming to meet me?” 

Jamie fell silent, only for a moment before she answered, “I’m a poet.” 

“Being a poet turns you into a stalker then?” Reg questioned. 

“I’ve come to see a concert, I’m not a stalker,” Jamie told her. “I simply follow my muse wherever it takes me.” 

“Who’s to say I’m your muse?” Reg asked. 

Jamie shrugged, “It’s not something someone can choose.” 

Reg hummed shortly, “If I’m your muse that means I can read your scribblings then.” 

Jamie pursed her lips with a shake of her head, she said, “I’m afraid I can’t do that for you.”

[sceosource]

Get ready for Sceo Weekend 2024!!! It will be running October 19-21. We welcome all positive depictions and celebrations of Sceo–fic, art, gifsets, edits, fanvids, notfic, favorite moments, and more! For your inspirational pleasure, we’ve provided three basic prompts below, but please don’t feel constrained by them! Whatever you create, make sure to mention @sceosource or tag your post #sceoweekend2024.

Saturday, October 19th: In A Dream

Give us your yearning! We see Scott waking from a nightmare about the murder, and Theo practically dreaming of calling Scott. Show us their dreams about each other, or how they'd live the dream together, or explore the fact that each of them has been to the same nightmarish dreamscape.

Sunday, October 20th: At Home

Today's the day for all things domestic, whether it's explorations of pre-canon (did they ever visit each other's houses as little kids?) or canon (did anyone go to Theo's fake house? what's it like for Theo to be back in Scott's house?), or beyond (what happens when Scott finds out Theo's homeless? what does it look like when these two live together?).

Monday, October 21st: On the Road

Road trip, baby!! Today's the day for anything beyond the bounds of Beacon Hills, whether that's the two of them on the road, fighting Monroe, or moving somewhere new, or exploring some unknown world in an AU. The sky's the limit!

If you have any questions about the event, please feel free to submit them to this blog. General rules are below, and rules concerning adult content are below the cut.

General Content Rules:

1) This is a ship-positivity event. While dark themes, sadness, and angst are all inherent in Sceo's history and welcome, works must be positive in their overall tone and story toward the Scott/Theo relationship.

2) No character bashing or hate.

3) All submissions must have Sceo as the main focus and endgame. Background ships and characters are welcome, but please no polyships or other endgames for this event.

Adult Content

1) You must be 18 years or older to create and share NSFW content (including fic).

2) All content created must be compliant with USA laws, especially regarding the protection of minors.

3) Depictions of non-consensual sex acts between Scott and Theo are not admissible for this event.

[hannie-dul-set]

the psychology of strawberries — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. besides being your friend, kim gyuvin also holds the existence of being the worst matchmaker in history. the last guy he set you up with ended with a permanent ban from the arcade. the one before that caused you to file a restraining order. which is why when he tries to set you up one last time with his best friend, you understandably shut him down.

the problem is— why the fuck didn’t gyuvin tell you that his best friend is actually the prettiest man in the world? the most charming idiot to have graced your mortal existence? maybe if he did, you wouldn’t have to resort to pavlovian tactics and strawberries just to bag him. if he did, then you wouldn’t have to hide the fact that you’re kind of balls-deep in love with his friend.

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, (anti) matchmaking! au, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual secret relationship. romance, humor, fluff, older! reader, black haired ricky jumpscare later in the fic, this is just lovelicky propaganda. sue me. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mentions of sex, an almost car crash, stalking (not from any of the mcs), erratic and embarrasing behavior (mostly from our mc), may add more as i continue. WORD COUNT. preview: 1.6k | full fic: 15-17k.

RELEASE DATE. within december. TAGLIST. send me an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. this is an amalgamation of a number ricky drabble ideas, stitched together into one cohesive mess. yes, i know i've been releasing too many fic previews. yes, you have doubts about me finishing them all. but will release all three fics within this month even if it kills me. enjoy this preview of mc losing her mind over ricky shen (that's how the rest of this fic will also go).

preview under the cut.

“Morning.”

Gyuvin greets you with a yawn and a heavy ruffle on the top of your head, to which you respond with a side kick to his ass when he walks past you. “You’re late,” you scold him, and though you want to continue berating your dear friend, two more familiar-looking people emerge from his building’s entrance. 

“Oh, this is Taerae and Matthew,” Gyuvin informs you offhandedly. The two give you a mix of polite nods and smiles. You sort of know Taerae because you shared a class with him last semester. Matthew is just the guy you see at the campus coffee shop at least once a week. “They’re going to be my survey assistants. More people means more ground to cover at once.”

“How’d he scam you two into agreeing?” you ask.

“He’s buying me lunch for a week,” Taerae replies.

“I just wanted to go on a road trip,” Mathew says in a tone too bright for five in the morning. 

You let out a huff of air. Your backpack is getting a little heavy on your shoulders, and all you want is to finally reclaim your lost weekend. Meaning, getting on the road as soon as possibly is priority number one. “So, are we commuting?” you ask. “We should get going then.”

“Oh, no,” Gyuvin replies. He’s already noticed your impatience, and has found himself standing behind you, taking your bag off of your bag so that you don’t snap at him for the next statement he’s about to say. “Actually, we’re waiting for one more per—”

A car horn cuts him off. 

“Well, nevermind. He’s here.”

At that moment, a way too expensive looking car drives up to the porch of Gyuvin’s college-level priced apartment building. This is looking way too out of place. Matthew lets out a whistle when the car stops in front of you. “This kid just got his license exchange and the first thing he does is show off,” Taerae snorts. What...what does he mean? Is this your ride? Is this the (at least seventy-thousand-dollar) vehicle that’ll be driving you all the way to the outskirts of Hadong County? 

The variables don’t click, but your surprise doesn’t end there. Because the person that emerges from the expensive looking ass car’s driver’s seat is— by far— the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your twenty-one years of life.

Whoa.

Not even those thick, dark shades can obscure that god-sculpted looking face. They only make his nose bridge look even sharper, and you’re trying your damn best not to stare at those full and cherry-painted lips. Holy shit. Platinum blonde has always looked tacky to you, but now you have to re-evaluate. Oh my god. Kim Gyuvin has a friend that looks like this, and all he’s done is set you up with guys that can’t even fucking compare.

Walking statue of a man closes the car door behind him with a click. “Get in,” he says. Holy mother of god, you’re light-headed. Your brain is fuzzy. You’re about to pass out. 

“Ricky! You’re late! How dare you keep the madam waiting?!” 

Things start happening a little too quickly.

Wait a second—

“Shotgun!” 

That name.

“Fuck off! Let’s play for the seat!” 

Sounds Very.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot! Rock, paper, scissors—”

Very—

“Paper, scissors— shoot!”

—familiar.

“Dammit,” Matthew grumbles in defeat, joining Taerae in the backseat. You stare at the fist you have held out since earlier. Rock. Rick. Ricky. This guy’s name is Ricky. Isn’t that also the name of Gyuvin’s best friend? The best friend he was trying to set you up with? This is Ricky? This absolute god of a fucking man who’s looking at you with an ounce of confusion, still holding your fist up after somehow winning all rounds of rock, paper, scissors with nothing but a rock, is the Ricky you turned down a date with?

You were correct to assume that his name gives off fuckboy vibes. The problem is, he looks like a really, really hot fuckboy who you don’t mind ruining your life in exchange for three months of fun. Shit. You think you just made eye contact with him through his thick-ass sunglasses. He nods a little with a small, awkward smile before disappearing back into the driver’s seat. 

Fuck. He knows. He definitely knows you wrongfully rejected his ass without even meeting him. Gyuvin, that snitching son of a bitch.

“Hey.”

With a heavy grip on his shoulder, you stop the said snitching son of a bitch before he can escape into the backseat. “What?” Gyuvin raises a brow. The audacity of this guy.

“What was your best friend’s name again?”

“Ricky Shen. Shen Quanrui. Shim Cheonye. Pick one.”

“Is that...the same…?”

“Yes, that guy is Ricky.” There’s an impatient honk from the car. You pay no mind, more concerned about the absolute fucking catch you totally drove away, and that regret is seeping through you expression, failing to wiggle out from Gyuvin’s notice. “Why do you ask?” Are you regretting turning down my offer last week? his face seems to say. You want to hit him. Yes, you are fucking regretting it, but there’s no way in hell you’re giving him the satisfaction of knowing.

“It’s just a little awkward,” you say. “Can you switch with me?”

“Matt hyung’s gonna throw a fit if I take your seat,” he simply hums, opening the door to the front seat on your behalf with a courteous bow that drives you further into annoyance. “Now hop in. We’re already behind schedule.”

You’re the bigger person here so you decide against throwing a tantrum. Begrudgingly, you enter the passenger’s seat, trying to ignore aphrodite’s reincarnation sitting right next to you, and prepare yourself for the three-hour drive or torture because you totally screwed over your chance of having him.

“Woohoo! Road trip!”

“We’re here for my project, idiot.”

“Please tone it down, I’m trying to sleep.”

It’s fine, you cross your arms, wiggling uncomfortably on the soft seat. It’s totally fine. None of Gyuvin’s friends have been decent so far. Yes. You shouldn’t judge positively too quickly. Maybe the only thing this one has going for him is his face. Maybe his personality is just as shitty as the last ones and you’ve completely dodged a bullet.

A very pretty bullet. The pretty bullet is looking at you through the rearview mirror. Oh god, why is he looking at you? He’s got his sunglasses down and those eyes are practically staring into your soul.

“Um,” Ricky clears his throat. “You should put on your seatbelt.”

That rasp shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. Fuck. This man is a walking heart hazard. “O—oh, sorry!” You’re stupid. Your brain is fried. You fumble with the dumb seatbelt, forgetting how it works, and mentally swearing at yourself in the process.

“Do you need any help…?”

Fight or flight instincts kick in. You smack away Ricky’s attempt at a helping hand. His eyes are wide in shock. Your eyes are wide in shock. You want to throw yourself out of this vehicle right now. “It’s—it’s fine!” Finally, you manage to put on the seatbelt. Ricky is a mix of confusion and offense when he starts the car, more on confusion, but that’s alright. The aftermath of him pulling a k-drama move and helping you with the seatbelt would have been worse. You would have disintegrated right then and there.

Your only source of comfort is the backpack that you’re hugging for your dear life. The entire ride is excruciatingly awkward because the three boys at the back have fallen asleep— a state you also wish to be in right now, but that’s quite frankly impossible because you’re a million times more conscious about your physical appearance right now with a literal angel next to you. 

He’s not asking why you’re pressed so far up against the door. For safety reasons, you tell yourself. The air around him just subconsciously feels a lot hotter despite the air conditioning literally blowing cold air to your face.

“Would...would you like some?”

But that doesn’t mean you could stomach this awkwardness, either. Two hours have passed and neither of you have said a word to each other. You’re a fistful into your candy stash and it feels rude not to offer anything to him when he’s been driving for so long. 

You have a cautious arm outstretched, a pink wrapper dangling between your thumb and index finger. Ricky peers down for a split second, a rumble from his throat before saying, “N—no, it’s okay.” The candy disappears into the crevices of his car. You dip your head down, trying to feel around for it, and Ricky continues talking. “Um. I mean. You don’t really have to force yourself to get along with me, seonbae. I already know that you don’t really like me.”

At that moment, you snap your head up. “What?”

Maybe you should’ve been more careful because you scare the shit out of Ricky and the car swerves off the lane.

Screech!

“Ah,” he exhales, parking the car at the edge of the road after nearly killing you all. “That was close.” How the three kids in the back are still asleep is beyond you. They’ve got their necks twisted in all the weird places and you’re pretty sure Matthew is drooling.

But the source of your adrenaline right now isn’t the near death experience.

“What do you mean you know that I don’t like you?”

Translation: what exactly did Kim Gyuvin say to this guy?

the psychology of strawberries. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[wolfstarhaven]

Hi!!!!!!! Long time lurker first time asker here—do you have any interesting fics that take place in the summer? I feel like I've been losing myself in nostalgia for being a teenager since it started getting hot by me and I'd love to read a fic that compliments that feeling well!

Hi🌸 You read my mind, long time lurker — I’ve been thinking of putting together a proper summery-nostalgic list for some time now. Your request finally made me do it(: So here you go! My favourite summer wolfstar fics, all of them with that sweet, soft nostalgic touch☀️

the summer you let your hair grow out

by ladymemebeth (20k)

in which sirius decides to go to remus' house when he runs away, rather than james'. remus finds this situation to be trying in more ways than one. includes gratuitous references to twentieth-century cinema and music.

Themes: summer at remus’; pov!remus; disowned Sirius; pining; friends to lovers; first time.

*wonders bright

by unwholesome_gay (5k)

Sirius spends a few weeks at the Lupins' place during the summer after sixth year.

Themes: summer at remus’; pov!sirius; friends to lovers; fluff; first kiss.

*the apple caught between your teeth

by drowsyanddazed (13k)

The warm, July sun is unadulterated in its naked heat; blisteringly sweet and unbearingly heavy. It makes Sirius’ shirt cling to his chest, turns his bones lazy, and it colours Remus’ cheeks with a dusting of honey freckles.

So many freckles.

So many that Sirius wonders where they all hide in the frosty, winter months.

Themes: summer at remus’; disowned sirius; pov!sirius; friends to lovers; coming out; pining; so well-written I could cry.

*June, and Other Natural Disasters

by montparnasse (5k)

Sirius talks, begs, and bribes Remus into a spontaneous trip to Brighton the summer of their graduation. Remus loses all sense of direction; Sirius loses his shirt; Remus kisses the last moth-eaten vestiges of his sanity a long, sloppy goodbye.

Themes: summer trip; pov!remus; pining remus; friends to lovers; sexual tension and smut; poetic prose.

*Everything Under The Sun

by moongnome (26k)

The summer of '76. Remus wants Sirius. Sirius doesn't know what he wants.

Themes: slow burn; friends to lovers; shit communication; friends with benefits sort of; pov!remus; pining remus; this is technically unfinished but it can be read as finished!; I love this so much it’s crazy.

*A Brief History of Dragons

by eyra (23k)

Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer and meets a rude, beautiful boy who is writing a book that may or may not be about dragons.

Themes: muggle!au; writer!remus; pov!sirius; strangers to lovers; Arthurian legend; everybody and their mother has read and loved this; but it’s very summery so it’s gotta be here!!

tomorrow, when the world is free

by turntechnodhead (2k)

Sirius, in a tour-guide voice: “The White Cliffs of Dover, part of the North Downs formation, is the region of English coastline facing the Strait of Dover and France. The cliff face, which reaches a height of 110 metres, owes its striking appearance to the composition of chalk accented by streaks of black flint-”

“Padfoot, mate, you never told us you could read,” says James. Sirius whacks the back of his head with the guidebook.

Themes: road trip; pov!remus; pining remus; fluff; pre-slash.

Camping, Comfort, and Clichés

by oliverdalstonbrowning (5k)

Remus goes on a camping trip with his friends, and discovers all the comfort and clichés that go with it.

Themes: camping; post-Hogwarts; sharing a bed; pov!remus; friends to lovers; jealous remus; fluff.

*Hard To Find

by accioromulus (13k)

The air conditioning is already broken, Sirius's back has been effectively glued to the leather seat via sweat, and this road-trip may have been a Very Bad Idea.

Themes: road trip; muggle!au; pov!sirius; pining; so so soft and summery; friends to lovers.

Out There

by halictus (21k)

Sirius has to go backpacking to fulfill a college graduation requirement. He is comfortable in his own skin, he has friends, he has passions. But he's still learning how to fit himself into loosely-defined spaces. Remus is a graduate student leading the trip. He loves nature, and backpacking, and being outside, and smiling, and having lots of energy. They both have some learning to do—not necessarily tactfully.

Themes: muggle!au; backpacking; nature; strangers to lovers; good discussion on privilege!

one for the road

by rojohbi (4k)

Piling into the car was uncomfortable and cramped, but there was something oddly satisfying about sitting on ratty blankets in the backseat, a box of fresh comfort food at his feet and Sirius’ legs splayed over his lap as the other backseat-inhabitant nestled himself into the corner and almost immediately began snoring. James met his eyes through the rearview, and this time when he saw the knowing smile, Remus smiled right back.

Themes: road trip; pov!remus; pining remus; self-esteem issues (remus); accidental confession; genderfluid sirius.

the private kind of purple

by greenscape (6k)

Post-grad summer. They are reaching for things they cannot name.

Or, it's four days out of Hogwarts and Sirius and Remus go wild camping in Scotland.

Themes: camping; light angst; soft and well-written af; friends to lovers.

*Beneath a Big Blue Sky

by eyra (68k)

Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

Themes: muggle!au; sheep farm; pov!sirius; this is a must-read for everyone.

*Light in August

by orestesfasting (21k)

Summer, 1977. With the full moon approaching, Sirius heads up to the Lupins' countryside cottage to make himself useful. Or to make a complete and utter arse out of himself, because really, that's all he can seem to do around Remus these days.

Themes: THE summer wolfstar fic; summer at remus’; friends to lovers; pov!sirius; pining; sharing a bed; beautifully written it’s actually insane.

honey, i belong with you, only you.

by jeonism (4k)

remus was all honey brown hair and eyes that glittered golden in the sun, with a peachy flush across his freckles and legs that seemed to stretch for miles. sirius was screwed.

Themes: summer at remus’; pov!sirius; pining sirius; friends to lovers; lots of kissing; fluff.

*Our Blood, Still Young

by templeg (15k)

It's nearly the last day of fifth year, and Sirius really isn't looking forward to the summer.

Themes; friends to lovers; funny; pov!sirius; smut; awkwardness and fluff; it’s summer for most of it; a classic.

*Another Bright Day

by rilla (20k)

It's 1978 and the Marauders have just left school. James has fallen for Lily, Sirius is smarting about it, and Remus has complicated feelings of his own that he needs to work out during the last summer before they all have to find their way into the real world.

Themes: post-hogwarts; first war; holiday by the sea; pov!remus; pining remus; beautiful prose!!

Fearless Liabilities

by femme_de_lettres (200k)

Summer camp. Six weeks of planning activities, leading campers, and getting up to no good. It's no different than the last decade that Remus and his friends have spent in rural Wisconsin. Except Remus' heart keeps trying to tell him that he's in love with his best friend, Sirius can't believe he's fallen for the one person who he knows is unequivocally straight, James is starting to lose faith that Lily will ever actually consider going on a date with him, and Peter? Peter's just trying to keep his friends from getting in over their heads.

Themes: muggle!au; summer camp; long boy; American au; homophobia; panic attacks; fluff.

Heat

by LadyAmina (2k)

The summer air is too warm. The campfire isn't helping. Neither is Sirius's head in his lap. Neither is the burning blood in his veins. Remus is overwhelmed and something has to give.

Themes: camping; pov!remus; remus is jealous and very emotional about it poor baby; fluff.

blue, orange

by Avvu (5k)

It's the first summer after Hogwarts, and they have nothing else to talk about than Peter's dead father. / There are blue and orange postcards on the fridge door, and behind them, there are words Sirius knows by heart.

Themes: angst; first war era; canon compliant; the ending is sort of happy but also not that happy because you know what happens later yk.

Ocean Above & Sky Below

by grandilloquism (8k)

Sirius, adrift and floundering at the advanced age of 23, rents out a mansion by the sea— as you do— in an effort to recapture his happiness. It works surprisingly well.

Themes: post-Hogwarts; no war; pov!sirius; growing up; friends to lovers.

I'm Glad I'm Your Favourite

by aftgray (10k)

just a wolfstar get-together oneshot that takes place in the summer of 1976 (between the Marauders' fifth and sixth year)

Themes: post The Prank; disowned sirius; sharing a bed; fluff.

Motion Sickness

by oscarwildechilde (46k)

The Lupins are moving again, and Remus is determined to be miserable following his disastrous fifth year and the fallout of Sirius' prank. Not speaking to any of his friends, he's resigned to go at it alone. That is, of course, until he finds out that he's moved to the same town as Lily Evans.

Themes: post The Prank; centred on the lupin family; Lily-Remus friendship; disowned sirius; friends to lovers; fluff.

Reeled

by lunchbucket (5k)

Remus decides to finally spend a summer day with his childhood best friend, Sirius, after not seeing him for three years. But when old feelings quickly start to resurface, Remus is left feeling like no time has passed at all.

Themes: childhood friends reunited; pov!remus; pining remus; fluff.

(* = personal favourite)

I hope you’re all having a lovely summer so far🌸

xx Elliot

[the-kr8tor]

Speed Drive

🎉500 celebration fic🎉

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.

A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*

Navigation

Masterlist

You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.

He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.

The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.

"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.

He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.

"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"

"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"

"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.

"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.

"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.

You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"

"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.

You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"

"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"

"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.

"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.

"Get it nice and toasty for me?"

"What are you? Banana bread?"

"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.

"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.

You wink at him, "okay, dad!"

"Lil shit" he says with a smile.

—

Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.

Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.

He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"

"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.

"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.

"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.

"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"

"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.

"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.

"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.

You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.

He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"

"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"

"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.

He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.

"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.

"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.

He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"

"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.

"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.

"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.

He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"

You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.

"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"

"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."

"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.

"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"

"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.

"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"

Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"

You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.

"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"

You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.

"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.

"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.

You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"

He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.

"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.

"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"

"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"

"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.

"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"

Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.

You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.

Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.

Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.

—

Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.

He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.

He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.

A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.

You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.

"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.

"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.

"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"

"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"

Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.

Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.

Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.

He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.

Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.

"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.

"Or sleep" he grumbles.

"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."

He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.

Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.

"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"

—

You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.

Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.

"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"

Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.

"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.

Click.

"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.

He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.

You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."

"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.

Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.

—

After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.

Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.

Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.

"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.

"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"

You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"

"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"

"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.

"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"

"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"

"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"

For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.

"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"

—

"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"

"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.

"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"

He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"

"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"

He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.

"We've got time to spare"

"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.

"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"

Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.

You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.

"Aww, I think we used it all"

"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.

"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.

"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.

"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.

"No, maybe you should say it often"

So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"

—

You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.

Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.

You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.

The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.

Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.

"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"

He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.

Click.

"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.

"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.

Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.

It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.

Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.

"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.

"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.

"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.

Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'

—

You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.

He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.

"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.

You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?

You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"

"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.

You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"

He nods, unconvinced.

After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.

"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.

"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"

"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.

Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"

"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"

"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"

"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.

Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.

Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.

"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.

—

You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.

Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.

The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"

"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."

"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.

"Are we still far?"

"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.

"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.

"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"

"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.

—

As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.

"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"

"Missing home already?"

"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.

"They also have a serial killer too"

You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"

He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.

"Hobie, you're joking right?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.

He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.

"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.

"We could always take a detour right now–"

"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.

He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.

—

An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.

Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.

"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.

Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"

He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.

You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.

"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.

"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'

You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.

—

You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.

"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"

Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.

There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.

The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.

"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.

"Add that to the list"

"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'

"There," you hum happily.

"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.

"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."

You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.

With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.

You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.

At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.

Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.

"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"

"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"

"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.

Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.

"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.

"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.

"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."

He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.

A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.

"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.

You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.

A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️

[gerec]

Hi Gerec! I’ve just got recommended a fun XMA skit from YouTube (here for anyone want to watch https://youtu.be/_rFyHJ1pSyg?si=jglR5bSlNsnKGckc) Basically, it’s about life at Xavier’s school and it makes me want to read fics like that :Đ So ol’ powerful fic recs wizard Gerec, do you know some good fics that focus on what life is like for mutants at Xavier’s school (preferably with some Cherik, or Quicksilver’s appearance would be lovely)? Thank you :Đ!

Thanks for sharing the link Anon! Here are some of my favourite fics where Charles and Erik run the school together. I hope you like them!

Through the Barricades by starandrea (series) Erik and Charles learned to live without each other once. It's harder the second time--so before they even discuss it, they've decided not to try. (Erik accidentally moves into the mansion without anyone but Charles noticing for days. He may be the first to return, but he won't be the last.)

Come Together by blarfkey (series) It's totally normal in Suburban America for the dad to pick up his rebellious teenager from jail, right? Even when it's the Pentagon instead of the local police station, and your dad is a Mutant Supremacist Assassin and America's Most Wanted who didn't post bail so much as murdered all the guards?

Whatever. Peter will take what he can get at this point, even if it means the most painfully awkward road trip in the history of the universe.

Somewhere Like Bolivia by iberiandoctor (jehane) After Cairo, after the school is rebuilt, Erik has every reason to leave. Charles and Peter think about giving him a reason to stay.

Synthesis (Scenes from an AU) by starlady (first of a series) Synthesis is a dynamic process. Or, scenes from the AU where Charles and Erik have sex, get married, become best friends, and run the school together.

The Xavier-Lehnsherr Academy for the Gifted: 1973 by listerinezero A year in the life of Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, co-founders of the world's first school for mutants, one month at a time.

The Spaces Between by mainecoon76  Almost a year after Washington, Erik is working on his own to find out what became of the Sentinel research. He keeps to himself and likes it that way. But when a mutant assassin tries to murder Charles, he finds himself reluctantly drawn into an adventure that involves a dangerous plot, Charles' own agenda, a complicated relationship, and holiday celebrations at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

Late Night Conversation by listerinezero (First of a series Fighting the Good Fight) Marie runs into Professor Lehnsherr in the kitchen one night during her first week as a student at the Xavier Institute.

[twstedpurple]

A Moonlit Encounter

A short Rook Hunt x Reader fic inspired by LISA's Moonlit Floor (cuz I thought the song would suit him ^^;).

The moon hung over the majestic Fairest City, and you found yourself wandering aimlessly through its cobblestone streets. It was your first time visiting, and the sheer glamour of the city lived up to every story you’d heard, with beauty and vibrance around every turn, making all your months of saving up for this trip worthwhile.

You eagerly spent the day exploring its famed landmarks, shopping at the Crystal Galleria, and soaking up the city's magic. However, as nightfall fell, the thrill of the day faded, replaced by a growing sense of unease. You were lost. The once-enchanting roads now felt unfamiliar, and no matter which direction you took, you only ended up even more confused.

Standing beneath the warm light of a lamppost, you set down your shopping bags, your arms aching from the weight. You took out your phone to check for directions, only to be met with the red flicker of a depleting battery on the screen. You let out a soft curse. Your phone was dying, and the thought of asking strangers for directions was too embarrassing.

Just as you were about to panic, a soft, melodious voice came from behind you, breaking through your thoughts.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle."

Startled, you turned to find a man standing just beyond the lamplight, dressed in a fine suit and a wide-brimmed hat that framed his sleek blonde hair. He gently tipped his hat, a smile spreading over his lips. His piercing green eyes met yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"Pardon me for startling you. My name is Rook Hunt." His voice was smooth, laced with a mysterious allure as he stepped closer into the light. "I could not help but notice the distress that clouds your radiant visage. Are you perhaps lost? Fairest City can be quite the puzzle for those unfamiliar with its winding roads."

You stammered, heat rising to your cheeks, "Ah…y-yes."

A soft chuckle escapes him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Ah, what fortune, to come across such a radiant flower on this moonlit eve… surely, it is fate that our paths have crossed." He took another step forward, extending his gloved hand toward you. "Would you allow me the honor of being your guide tonight, mademoiselle? The moon is full and bright, and Fairest City is far more enchanting at this time of day. It would be a shame to let such beauty pass unnoticed, no?"

His words lured you in, like a sweet temptation that you couldn't refuse. You hesitantly placed your hand in his, a spark of warmth passing between you despite the cool evening air.

You walk through the city's illuminated streets together, Rook's voice filling the air with poetic musings and stories of Fairest City's history. The streets felt different now, their beauty heightened by the moon's brilliance and the sparkling city lights, but it was Rook who drew your attention the most. Every glance he sent your way, every brush of his arm on yours, sent your heart fluttering.

You eventually arrived at a familiar square, the hotel where you were currently staying now visible just across the street. You hesitated, turning to face him, suddenly unwilling for the evening to end. "Thank you, Rook. I had a wonderful time tonight."

Rook’s expression grew warmer, a strange light dancing in his eyes. "Mademoiselle, it is I who must thank you. They say that Fairest City reveals its true splendor when shared with those who wander its streets. And tonight… I have been most fortunate to share it with you."

His voice dipped into an almost intimate tone as he softly took your hand again, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your breath seizing in your throat as you stared at him with wide eyes.

Before you could utter a response, he took a step back, his smile both mischievous and tender. "Merci for this unforgettable night. I hope that fate will be kind enough to bring us together again."

With those last words, Rook vanished into the night, leaving only the lingering warmth of his touch on your hand and the echo of his voice. Even as you returned to your hotel room, your thoughts were consumed by the memories of those moonlit streets, those gorgeous green eyes, and the fleeting contact with a man who had your heart racing.

[steddieunderdogfics]

Getting Eddie Munson to graduate, and other acts of heroism by liionne

@liionne

Rating: Mature

33,991 words, 7/7 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 1, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, ish, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Not Beta Read, We Die Like Men, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing a Bed, Road Trips, a little mini one, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Because i never actually address how they got out of the upside down because who cares!, Getting Together, Eddie Munson Graduates High School

Summary:

It had only been about two weeks since Vecna and their trip to the upside down and everything had just… gone back to normal. As it always did. Life went on. The kids went back to school, he and Robin went back to work, Nancy and Jonathon were getting ready for college and Eddie… Apparently, no one thought to check in on Eddie. Recovering from first-time exposure wasn't easy, especially not when your return meant trying to graduate high school for the third time, so Steve decides he's going to do whatever it takes to help Eddie Munson graduate, even if it means re-learning 12th grade U.S History, and learning some things about himself along the way.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Only One Bed.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[kariliah]

Top 5 2023 lestappen fics?!! I finally have some free time and im looking for recs!! Ur blog is 11/10 btw

Thanks a lot!

Here you go, my Top 5 2023 Lestappen fics below the cut~

until i love myself by euphrasiefauchelevent

Rating: E Long story short: The FIA sets up the Winner's Room for Max, meaning he has to choose one driver to have sex with. He chooses Charles. Why I love it: I feel like a lot of Lestappen fic focuses on Charles' emotions, whereas this one does a wonderful job at capturing Max's inner turmoil. It portrays him as vulnurable, without making him weak.

Shut Up and Drive by xxcelientje

Rating: T Long story short: Lestappen are forced to go on a road trip together. Why I love it: It's the perfect fun summer story and Charles' lovable-annoying side comes out.

spit us out reborn by linearity

Rating: T Long story short: College AU with a lot of shared history. Why I love it: Through all the ups and downs, the invisible string that pulls them towards one another is always there.

Maximum Formula by charlescoded

Rating: T Long story short: Charles falls in love with podcast host 'Emilian', not knowing he is the boy he used to compete against in karting. Why I love it: There are stories that are simply insanely creative and a pure joy to read. This is one of them.

plausible deniability by cham0mileon

Rating: T Long story short: In which Lestappen are still figuring out their relationship, when a video of them together surfaces. Why I love it: I am a sucker for 'getting together' fics, and this one is just too sweet.

That's it for now. There are definitely a lot of great fics that I didn't include, so I want to sincerely thank everyone that is writing this ship.

Ending this with shameless self-promo~

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Friends to Lovers Fics Masterlist (11)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / 

Created: June 6th, 2024

Checked:---

Not the Last Time-Peetabreadgirl (ao3) Summary: A vacation between friends leads to more than what they expected. Taken from the famous episode of Friends when Ross and Rachel get drunk in Vegas. Okay. Sure. If You Want To.-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: “You’ve never even touched yourself?” One For the History Books-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen’s broken the gender barrier on her university’s football team, and she’s about to make history. She’s also caught the eye of fellow teammate, Peeta Mellark, and both are very, very important to her. Over an Open Field-jeeno2 (ao3) Summary: Seventeen-year-old Peeta Mellark is looking to escape an abusive home. Katniss Everdeen is just looking for an escape. When the two friends set off in her pick-up truck on a cross country road trip, the last thing they expect to find is each other. Modern day AU. Photograph-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Inspired by the prompt: "When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse” again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country… where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid." Katniss Everdeen receives a letter that changes her life. Who knew that a letter and a photograph could wreak such havoc? Prospects & Propriety-juniebugg (ao3) Summary: Miss Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Primrose are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy; a wealthy countryman with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, an advantageous marriage is the only way for Katniss to save herself and her sister from destitution. She sets her sights on Mr. Hawthorne, a wealthy man who recently moved to the township of Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her, but what is she to do about the poor baker’s boy who once suffered a beating to save her life? Pumpkin Spice(x)-papofglencoe (ao3) Summary: I hate that somewhere in between childhood and now we’ve learned to keep secrets from each other. Like: I’m hopelessly in love with you. Or, in her case: I’ve been shopping at the Brown Bag It for sex toys and condoms to use with some dickwad boyfriend who is not, and will never be, you. A Modern AU Puppy Love-Pookieh (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta's childhood friendship takes an unexpected turn when they visit a shelter to pick out a puppy. Modern AU. Written for Day 7 of Prompts in Panem. Visual Prompt: Choose your own adventure - Puppy in a cage. Quote Prompt: Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love. - Charles M. Schulz Roses and Pearls-HalfHope, thesweetnessofspring (ao3) Summary: Peeta Mellark is the sole victor of the Quarter Quell. With District 12 nothing but ash, he rebuilds his life by moving to the Capitol and falling in love with Rosalia Snow, granddaughter to Coriolanus Snow. Then people Peeta thought long dead kidnap him and Rosalia, including the one person he hates more than anyone: Katniss Everdeen. They say he's been hijacked. They say that he used to love her. Locked away in District 13, Peeta is determined to protect his mind and his fiancée from the rebels. But while imprisoned, videos disprove his memories and his feelings toward Katniss grow confusing. Who can he trust, and what really happened in his past? Screw West-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: With the entire summer in front of her, Katniss decided to take a road trip across America. Thankfully, her best friend since college agreed to go with her. Hopelessly in love with her, Peeta struggled to keep his feelings secret as they shared countless hotel rooms and sometimes a bed.

[jedusaur]

Recs: the best Clint/Bucky fics with under 200 kudos

I just finished combing through the entire Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes tag on AO3 sorted by kudos, which got to be a bit of a slog toward the end, but there were some delightful underappreciated gems buried in the mud. so I decided to share some favorites!

D.I.Y. (Demons In You), by @redteamshark (38k) Clint and Bucky are renovating their new house, Clint is a YouTuber posting progress videos about the renovations, turns out the house is haunted. this one was the inspiration for this list, because based on the quality, length, and posting timeframe, I would expect this to have about 700-1000 kudos, and it has FIFTY-SIX. WHY. it's an engaging AU concept, the plot and relationship arcs are well-executed, it has fewer copyedit-level issues than some of the hugely popular fics, it hits good emotional beats, it's got fun minor character cameos, the HGTV-style home reno details are great. that kudos total is a cosmic error that requires rectification, pls assist

don't care what you did (as long as you love me), by veryrach/@mightymightygnomepriest (21k) a job goes wrong and Clint needs money fast, so he gets a job as "the blond one" for all the boybands in a '90s tribute act, supervised by a mysterious hot bodyguard. super fun but not actually crack-level ridiculous, it mostly plays the premise pretty straight, and at the end it does something interesting with the framing device that my will-they-or-won't-they dopamine response liked very much :D

A Muscle The Size Of Your Fist, by @there-must-be-a-lock (99k) in which Clint and Natasha are trailer park neighbors in 2008, Nat invites him to see her band play, and he meets Bucky in the pit by elbowing him in the face. lots of bandom nostalgia and ~emo kid~ feels in this one

Aw, Blood, No, by @reremouse (19k) Clint gets turned into a vampire and Bucky drags him out on a cross-country road trip to avoid the SHIELD agents trying to imprison him. featuring "blood-lover's pizza" and Tony's Malibu mansion with a private cove full of cars piled up underwater for the Aesthetics

Team Spirit, by @noxnthea (17k) rival ghost hunters, with peak The Sunshine One/The Grumpy One vibes. silly tropey fun :)

Safely Home, by @bluflamingo (5k) soft sweet post-CW fic about Bucky deciding to move in with Clint on his farm instead of going back to New York, over Steve's objections. especially loved this line about Bucky and Steve's dynamic: Bucky, if he was honest, thought their friendship could maybe stand to carry a little less of the weight of history.

love was just a glance away, by drunkonyou (30k) '70s Jersey Shore AU, in which Clint and Bucky meet when they're both contestants on The Dating Game and then spend the weekend on the shore together (warning for homophobic violence near the end)

been lonely too long, by veryrach/@mightymightygnomepriest (10k) a beautiful story about tattoos and pain kink and people being imperfect and messy and doing their best

[whatacaitastrophe]

Everything Has Changed - Chapter 4

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "After Midnight" - Dorothy

Chapter Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood drinking.

Spotify Playlist: Here

Author Notes: Thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! If you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link. ya girl has bills to pay and a dog to feed, and every little bit helps <3

Chapter 4: Kerosene Eyes

“Szarlnaxi coven? I thought you’d all died out after the final confrontation with Isteval.” Astarion questioned in disbelief. He was well aware of the Szarlnaxi coven and their history, as Cazador had instructed Astarionan and his siblings to kill anyone associated with Voltan Szarlnaxi, an ousted count from Tethyr turned local crime lord, on sight. The Sharran worshippers began consuming the blood of Baldur’s Gate’s lowest citizens while still human, posing a threat to Cazador and his own coven, threatening to expose them. Astarion couldn’t confirm (Cazador never would have deigned to tell him), but he was fairly certain the reason the agents from Tethyr hunting Voltan Szarnaxi found him to begin with were aided by Cazador himself. 

When Szarnaxi perished, his followers prayed to Shar as they consumed his blood. As a reward for their devotion, the Lady of Darkness turned them into vampires. Astarion and his siblings had been the ones to force the new coven of vampires out of Baldur’s Gate and retreat to what became their new homebase at Dragonspear Castle. Astarion hadn't heard anything about the Szarnaxi coven again until eight years ago, 1485 DR, when Cazador uncharacteristically declared they were having a celebration, because the coven finally met their end thanks to Sir Isteval, a paladin from Cormyr, who took them on twice in the same year and won both times. Of course, Cazador’s idea of a “celebration” was a night free of torture and cats for supper instead of the usual, but that had been good enough for Astarion and his siblings.

It was the only reason Astarion agreed to camp outside the gates of Dragonspear Castle to begin with: believing the greatest threat from the castle on the High Moor had gone extinct. 

Once Astarion’s vision adjusted to the change in lighting, he got a good look at their visitor.  Astarion recognized the vampire in front of him as one of the ones Cazador had ordered Astarion and his siblings to be removed from Baldur’s Gate after their numbers started growing. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but it didn’t matter. 

“You thought that bastard from Cormyr managed to murder us all?” The other vampire sneered, releasing his hand from Fallon’s mouth to wrap an arm around her middle as his spell wore off. “Only the weak fell. The rest of us just knew where to hide until the dust settled.”

“So you’re a bunch of cowards, then. Duly noted.” Fallon quipped, and Astarion could have killed Fallon himself for goading a vampire with a blade to her neck, though he supposed it did remind him of their first meeting.

The vampire didn’t take kindly to her jab, either, and he expressed as much by pressing the blade against her throat just enough that Fallon whimpered in pain. Rage began to simmer in Astarion’s blood, and one look at Gale told him the other man felt the same way he did: this vampire was as good as dead the second Fallon was free from harm. Oh, how Astarion wished that he and Gale still shared a connection via their tadpoles– it made silently planning a coordinated attack so much easier. 

“You’ve yet to answer my question, spawn of Cazador. What are you doing here?” their visitor demanded. 

Astarion raised his free hand in a show of peace, but wasn’t foolish enough to let go of his dagger. “We’re just passing through,” Astarion replied, his voice much calmer than he felt. “Just three friends who stopped to make camp for the night on the road to Waterdeep from Baldur’s Gate.” 

“Quite a trip to make on foot, especially this time of year. Why not use a portal?”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Gale spoke up with an awkward wave. “Ordinary human here, portals upset the stomach. Now why don’t you release our friend and proper introductions can be made.” 

When talking about journeying to Waterdeep, Fallon and Astarion had considered a portal spell. The trouble was that mages that not only knew how, but were strong enough to conjure one reliably few and far between. Gale had been the only person with that kind of magical prowess they knew, and they certainly couldn’t ask him before  Mystra dropped him on their doorstep, completely stripped of his magical powers, and that was the end of that discussion. As far as excuses went, the one Gale gave the Szarlnaxi vampire was probably also true, albeit untested. 

Their intruder’s body language relaxed only slightly, indicating he believed Gale’s story, but Astarion wouldn’t be lowering his defenses until there was no longer a blade pressed to his lover’s neck. “What’s in Waterdeep?” the vampire asked. 

“I believe that answer also lies with me,” Gale continued. “I originally hail from Waterdeep and my– my mother passed away. My dear friends agreed to act as emotional support and accompany me as I travel there to sort through her affairs.” 

Astarion had to hand it to Gale, the pain in the other man’s voice sounded genuine. If Gale learned to play an instrument, he would probably be a hell of a bard. The vampire looked to Astarion in confirmation, and he nodded silently. “You’re pretty far from home, spawn, does daddy know you’re out and about?” The other vampire asked. 

“Gods, you ask a lot of questions,” Fallon sighed in annoyance. “Cazador is dead. We killed him ages ago. Are you satisfied?” 

Astarion had to work overtime to keep his features as neutral as possible. If they survived this night, he really would consider killing Fallon himself. He knew from traveling with her in the past that in the face of danger that Fallon tended to abide by the code of “strike before you can be struck, and ask questions later,” and often ran headfirst into a battle without really thinking anything through; but this was a new level of recklessness, even for her. Especially without Shadowheart on standby to patch them up. He’d once told Fallon that the greatest threat to a vampire was not the sun, or a wooden stake, but another vampire; and she’d just handed this particular one all the ammunition he needed. 

“Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting?” The rival vampire crooned, as he stared at Astarion. “You should have made sure to warn your consort about our history before wandering into our territory. Cazador was the only thing keeping you all alive.” With his free hand, the vampire reached up and yanked on Fallon’s hair, causing her to gasp in pain. Astarion’s rage came to a boil the moment the stranger pressed his face to Fallon’s neck, right above the old puncture wounds on Fallon’s neck from where Astarion usually bit her. “She smells so sweet, I can see why you picked this one. I think I’ll have a taste before I kill you all.”

Before he could open his mouth to take a bite, the sound of an arrow soaring through the air broke through the clearing, and found its mark in the vampire’s shoulder blade. He cried out in pain, lowering his blade from Fallon’s neck and staggering backward. The holding spell wore off, and Fallon quickly whirled around with her blade, decapitating her captor in one clean swing. 

Immediately it became clear why the Szarlnaxi vampire was asking so many questions, and biding his time: he’d been the distraction. The second his head separated from his body, four other vampires appeared, previously hidden by an invisibility spell cast upon them by their now dead leader. Gale swore loudly, readying his sword as one of them launched at him, and Astarion could only pray his training with Fallon stuck. Astarion briefly looked around to see if their savior had shown themself, but before he could truly investigate he found himself dodging a fire bolt shot at him by the vampire closest to him. The flame singed his sleeve as it flew by, and Astarion ran at his attacker, dagger ready to strike. 

The blade found its target, stabbing the rival vampire right in the side, and Astarion drove the blade in deep before dragging it across his gut, splitting him open as he cried out in pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two vampires head for Fallon, one head on and the other coming at her from behind. “Fallon, behind you!” Astarion yelled, but their mystery savior seemed to already be on the case, for another arrow shot through the trees, this time piercing Fallon’s attacker in the back of the neck and going almost cleanly through, causing the vampire to collapse to his knees as he gargled and choked on his own blood. 

There was no time to breathe a sigh of relief, though, because Astarion’s opponent may have been injured, but he wasn’t out. He had just enough energy it seemed to cast a Thunderwave spell that sent Astarion hurtling backwards, gasping for air as he landed flat on his back, eyes closed as he winced in pain. A shadow appeared over his figure, blocking him from the firelight of the campfire, and as Astarion rolled over to try and stand, he saw their boots first. They were smaller than any man’s, or even Fallon’s, and for when he looked up in confusion he was met with the golden eyes of a gray skinned tiefling, beaming at him. 

“I suppose after this we’ll be even after all the times you saved my life, right?” She declared, extending him a hand, and Astarion’s expression changed from confusion, to elated surprise.

“Arabella?” 

“Nice to see you again, Astarion. Let’s finish these bastards off, so we can have a proper reunion, yeah?” 

The young tiefling tore off after the vampire who’d been assaulting Astarion, so Astarion picked up his dagger and ran to help Gale. He was doing fine keeping his own attacker at bay, and seemed to have avoided taking any major blows, but Gale also hadn’t managed to injure the vampire, either. “IGNIS!” Astarion shouted, aiming for the offending vampire, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when the bolt of fire hit its target. The vampire staggered, giving Gale a moment to swing his sword around and lacerate his arm. 

“Is that Arabella?” Gale asked Astarion in surprise. 

“Sure is.” Astarion answered proudly as he grabbed the back of the burning vampire’s neck with a wince, and drove his dagger into his shoulder before kicking him backwards onto the ground. The sounds of blades and spells slowly died as the last of the vampires fell to the ground, and Astarion looked around wildly for Fallon, praying she was still standing. 

The elf was intact, and on her knees on the ground with Arabella, tears streaming from both of their eyes as they embraced tightly. Astarion started to walk towards the two of them, but Gale grabbed his arm gently and shook his head. “Give them a moment.” he said softly. Astarion glared at Gale, but did as he was told, annoyed with himself that Gale still knew Fallon so well as to know to give her this moment with their friend. 

During her brief residency in their camp, Arabella and Fallon bonded in the way sisters do, and when the young tiefling left to strike out on her own and find her own way in the world, it broke Fallon’s heart. Astarion remembered the day Arabella left: just after they’d entered Rivington, the tiefling girl left in the night, leaving only a note behind, citing that a goodbye would have been too hard. They ran into her one other time, a few months later, but to Astarion’s knowledge, no one had heard from her since. 

“Gods, look at you! You’re all grown up!” Fallon exclaimed, pulling back from Arabella, placing her bloody hands on the girl’s shoulders. It had only been two and a half years since they last saw Arabella, but she was definitely no longer the child they’d seen before. Astarion had assumed she was eleven or twelve when they met her, and a full fledged teenager stood before them now. Her hair was darker, more ginger than it used to be, and she had a turquoise, wavy tattoo covering her left eye and spiraling down her neck (it reminded Astarion slightly of Halsin’s), and she had a couple of piercings now as well. “What the hells are you doing out here?” Fallon asked her. She turned around to look at Gale and Astarion. “Look! Arabella is here!” Fallon wiped tears from her eyes, but when she raised her arm to wave them over, she visibly winced. It was at that moment Astarion realized the blood on Fallon’s hands were not just from the vampires who attacked her, but also her own. He could smell it now that he drew closer to her, and his eyes immediately fell to the source: her shirt had been torn open and a long, bleeding gash leaked blood across her abdomen. 

“Shit.” He rushed over to Fallon and dropped to his knees beside her. “Where are the healing potions, darling, I’ll go grab one.” “Astarion, I’m fine.” Fallon argued. “You are not fine,” His nostrils flared. “We could have avoided this whole gods damned battle if you had just kept your mouth shut, and now you’re fucking bleeding out, don’t tell me you’re fine.” Fear filled his body as his temper rose, and he knew it was the only reason he lashed out at her. Though as far as Astarion was concerned, yelling at Fallon for starting a fight she couldn’t finish, and getting hurt in the process, felt like a pretty good reason to yell at her. 

“Astarion, calm down. Yelling at her isn’t going to fix it,” Arabella scolded him and he stared at the young tiefling in shock for talking back to him. In fact, the way Arabella had spoken to him reminded him of Fallon. “Just give me a moment. I know a fair bit of healing magic now. Fallon, lay back for me, yeah?”

Astarion instinctively reached for Fallon, helping her ease herself onto her back. He may have been angry with her, but the sooner she was healed, the less guilty Astarion would feel for yelling at her in the first place. Gale must have noticed Fallon was injured at the same moment Astarion did, and as he appeared on Fallon’s other side with a healing potion in hand. “This should help.”  

Fallon nodded in thanks, drinking the potion quickly and wincing as she tossed the bottle aside. “Gods, I’d forgotten how foul those things taste,” she looked over at Astarion and took his hand. “I’m sorry for starting a fight, my love.” 

“You scared me, Fallon,” Astarion sighed, squeezing her hand as the healing glow from Arabella’s magic hovered over Fallon’s skin. “You can’t just go mouthing off to everyone who annoys you like you used to. It’s just the three of us now, and if it weren’t for Arabella, we’d probably all be dead.” 

“Thank you, by the way, since I don’t think any of us have said it yet.” Gale chimed in, smiling softly at Arabella. “It truly is lovely to see you, and not just because you saved our hides. I’m inclined to echo Fallon’s question: what are you doing out here?” 

“Oh, I’ve been tracking the Szarlnaxis for a while now,” The tiefling explained as casually as though she’d told them what she had for breakfast. “I’d heard a rumor they were keen to come back to Baldur’s Gate, and I think we’ve all seen enough without vampires running amuck unchecked, so I decided to go after them.”

“On your own?” Astarion asked in surprise. 

“Well, yes. I’ve learned that I’m actually quite powerful– taking on enemies on my own isn’t exactly difficult these days.” She shrugged. 

Astarion remembered the day they ran into her in the City Sewers, alone and surrounded by multiple dead bodies of men three times her size. At the time, she’d only been on her own for a few months at best, so Astarion had no doubt that the tiefling was not embellishing the extent of her powers two years later. Gale let out a low whistle. “That’s quite a bit of power, then. Do be careful with it, Arabella.”

The tiefling nodded in understanding. “I am, I promise. Sometimes I prefer shooting things with a bow and arrow more than magic anyhow.” “And I am certainly grateful for that.” Fallon laughed, wincing at the pain the action caused her. The wound across her abdomen was smaller now, and it was no longer bleeding. Arabella’s magic faded and dusted off her hands. 

“That should set you right. Though you should probably just rest tomorrow. I’ll stay with you all until you move out of this territory, just in case. I’ve got my own tent and everything, so no need to double up somewhere on my account.” 

The next hour or so was uneventful– Arabella quietly set up her tent while Astarion and Gale helped Fallon back to her tent and put her to bed, and soon after, Arabella bid them both goodnight as well. Astarion and Gale sat in silence around the fire for a long time, staring into the flames and completely lost in their own thoughts. So much so that when Gale finally spoke, Astarion jumped. 

“I’ve been thinking– sorry–” He apologized when Astarion jumped. “But I’ve been thinking about this situation we find ourselves in…and though you and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, I think we can both agree that Fallon’s safety is both our priority.” 

Astarion simply nodded in agreement, allowing Gale to continue. “I know you feed on her, but not every day, and on the days she doesn’t sate you, you hunt animals in the forest. Like you used to,” Astarion looked at Gale with interest. Was this going where he thought it was going? “I know in the past I’ve been…closed off to the idea of you biting me, but that was also as much for your sake as it was mine. When The Netherese Weave was lodged in my chest, I can’t imagine my blood would have tasted very good anyway…but now that it’s out and I’m well– normal again, I’d like to be of some other use than just cooking and washing the dishes. You may have guessed I volunteer for those duties not only because I don’t mind it, but also because I find myself feeling like a bit of a burden on this journey.” 

“Gods, you can never say anything outright, can you? Spit it out, Gale.” Astarion sighed impatiently. 

Gale huffed. “I was getting to it. We got lucky that Arabella showed up when she did. It won’t happen twice. Therefore, I would like to offer the use of my veins to you. I know you’re stronger when you feed on humans instead of animals, and the stronger you are, the easier it will be for us both to protect Fallon.” 

Apparently this evening was just going to be full of surprises. Astarion stared at Gale. “Are– are you sure?” 

“I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t. You can’t feed on her all the time, and I want to help. Honestly it kind of feels like it’s the least I can do.” Gale confirmed. “When was the last time you ate? You can even feed on me now, if you like.”

Astarion’s stomach gurgled at the thought. “It has been a day or two,” He mused, considering Gale’s offer. “Well, alright. If you’re sure.” Astarion stood up and moved to sit next to Gale, but stopped when the other man shifted so he was laying on his back. “Gale…what are you doing?” Astarion asked, amusement creeping onto his face. 

“I–you have to bite my neck, don’t you? That’s where you always bit Fallon, even before the two of you were, erm, intimate. I figured it’d be easier on you if I lay down.” Gale explained nervously. 

“Oh, you’re too adorable, sit up.” Astarion chuckled. “I can bite your arm, darling. That way you can hide it with your sleeve, if this is to remain our little secret.” 

“Do– do you want it to be a secret?” Gale asked. 

“I mean, I don’t care, but Fallon will probably be offended that we think she can’t look after herself and that she needs protecting, so…you tell me.” Astarion gave him a pointed look, almost daring Gale to disagree with him. They both knew Fallon well enough to know Astarion was right. 

“Fair enough.” Gale conceded, rolling up his sleeve. “What do I do, just…tap your arm or something when I’m ready for you to stop?” 

“That’s what Fallon does.” 

“Well, alright. Get on with it then.” Gale sighed, offering Astarion his forearm. 

“I promise to be gentle.” Astarion teased, delicately taking Gale’s forearm in his hands. He gave Gale one last look, one final chance to change his mind, and when Gale remained silent, Astarion leaned forward and bit down near the crook of Gale’s elbow, the only sound in camp was Gale’s sharp gasp of pain when Astarion’s teeth broke his skin. 

A long time ago, Fallon and Astarion joked about what they thought the others in their camp would taste like. Fallon had declared that Lae’zel probably tasted like an exotic, imported liquor with a high alcohol content that packed a punch, and Shadowheart and Wyll probably tasted similar to the red wines they’d favored while traveling. Gale, though, Astarion had predicted that Gale would taste like a good brandy, perfectly aged with just the right amount of spice. It pleased him to confirm that his assumption was correct, and the tiniest noise of approval escaped the vampire’s mouth as he drank from Gale. Except, there was something else in Gale’s blood, too. Something Astarion hadn’t been expecting, and something he was certain Gale had no idea was there. 

A minute or so later, Gale tapped Astarion’s knee and the vampire immediately released Gale’s arm from his mouth. Astarion licked the wound as he pulled away (he couldn’t help himself), and wiped his mouth as he looked at Gale curiously. “Well, how was I?” Gale asked. “Admittedly, I have been wondering what I taste like since I overheard that conversation with you and Fallon ages ago–” “Gale– didn’t Mystra take all of your magic?” 

Gale stopped speaking for a moment and frowned. “She– she did. Though I don’t know why you would bring that up now, it seems rather cruel after what I’ve just done for you–”

“No, Gale, shut up. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I– I don’t think she did. There’s magic in your blood. I tasted it.”

Chapter List

[kmomof4]

Destination Dream Weddings, Driving Disasters, & Dented Derrieres: A Fic Collaboration Between @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose and @jrob64

Ready for Ch3, y'all? Here we go! In today's installment, we are heading to Savannah for sightseeing and the bachelor and bachelorette parties!!

Rating: T

Words: 3700 of approx 21k

On ao3 and ff.net

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The second full day of their vacation dawned bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky.  It was a gorgeous day, and Emma found herself looking forward to their planned excursion in Savannah.  She donned a breezy, sleeveless, white sundress sprinkled with yellow sunflowers and her favorite pair of comfortable strappy white sandals. 

While normally one to simply toss clothing options into her suitcase, she’d needed to put a little more effort into packing on this trip with all their scheduled adventures, and today’s outfit was no exception.  They planned to spend a fair amount of time walking around Savannah today, and then she and Ruby had organized a bachelorette party for tonight.  Given the itinerary, she’d needed an outfit casual enough for a stroll through the city and yet dressy enough for a night out with the girls.

“You look tantalizing enough to tempt a man to stay home and have his wicked way with you, Swan,” Killian said, coming up behind her in the living room, wrapping his arms around her middle and nosing at her hair, before placing a not-quite-chaste kiss at the base of her neck.

She shivered in response.  When he used that tone of voice, all low and gravelly and full of sin, she nearly forgot her own name.

“What, and miss out on Savannah?” she asked, her voice far from steady.

“I’ve no doubt Savannah has many charms, Love,” he said, still peppering her with kisses, “but she couldn’t possibly hold a candle to you.”

“Oi! Get a room you two!” Will said, opening the cottage door and breezing in.  

“They already have one,” Regina said with an eye roll as she came into the room where they were all gathered, “and if we have to wait for them to make use of it, we’ll never get to Savannah, and I, for one, am looking forward to touring the cemetery.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Emma said under her breath.

“It’s actually not creepy at all!” Belle said, standing close enough to her friend that she heard exactly what was said. “The cemeteries there are so old, there’s so much history!  It’s fascinating.”

“I’m interested in taking a stroll along the river, getting a gander at the establishments and riverboats,” Liam said.

“I’d like to walk through the squares under the shade of all of those big, beautiful live oaks,” Mary Margaret said.  “I wonder why they’re called live oaks?”

“It’s because they are semi-deciduous,” Graham said. “They never lose all of their leaves.  There’s also a bit about the Spanish moss that clings to them–which is neither Spanish, nor moss, by the way. It got its name because…”

“Let’s save the botany lectures for the road,” Regina said dismissively.  “It’s an hour and a half drive, and if we wait for everyone to share all their collective knowledge, we’ll never get there.”

“Regina, did you just call us smart?” Will asked.

“You’re the exception that proves the rule,” she snarked.

With only one day to spend in Savannah, they knew they couldn’t possibly see everything they hoped to see, and so they planned on splitting up - Emma, Killian, Elsa and Liam taking the riverwalk, Regina, Robin, Roland, Belle and Will touring Bonaventure Cemetery, and Graham, Ruby, Mary Margaret and David strolling through the various squares and touring the shopping district.

With their plans made, they headed to their respective cars for the drive north.

Two hours later, Emma and Killian walked hand in hand down the sidewalk overlooking the river.  It was a beautiful day, quite mild for Savannah in July and with a refreshing light breeze.

“So, you’re having dinner at The Melting Pot, right?” Killian asked. 

Emma nodded. “Then Ruby found something for dessert that she’s refused to tell even me.”

“Any idea what it might be?” he asked.

“Nope,” Emma chuckled.  “Knowing Ruby, it’ll be as risqué as she can possibly get by with and still remain within Mary Margaret’s requirements.”

“Was Ruby particularly disappointed with her stipulation against strippers?” he asked with a grin.

Emma laughed.  “Actually, it was the opposite.  She just shrugged and said it’s no big deal.  She’ll have Graham give her a strip tease when she gets home.”

Killian laughed. “And I’d assume the man in question went quite vermillion at that?”

“Naturally.”

“Killian, look at that,” Liam said, gesturing to the row of shops and restaurants across the street. “Who in their right mind would choose to name their establishment The Broken Keel?”

Killian shook his head derisively, “Bloody fools, that’s who.”

“So, I take it you aren’t interested in going there for lunch?” Elsa asked slyly.

“No!” both men shouted emphatically, causing the women to go off into peals of laughter.

The foursome continued their walk, enjoying the company and the sights of the historic district, the men particularly interested in the majestic river boats docked and awaiting passengers, and the women more interested in the shops and sculptures.

Emma had been fascinated listening to an old man with a long, white beard play his saxophone as he sat on a bench near the river.  From the alleyway behind came the sound of a man singing, clapping, and tapping his feet.  The city was so vibrant and alive and full of joie de vivre.

She turned around to comment about it to Killian, but her boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

“Looks like we lost your brother,” she commented to Liam.  “Let’s hope he didn’t fall in the river.”

Liam laughed and then gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “I believe he headed toward the riverboats to make some inquiries.”

“Inquiries about what?” she asked.

Liam merely shrugged and then determinedly changed the subject.

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

But then Killian was rejoining their group and they were off again, and Emma put the strange incident from her mind.

~*~*~

As the day settled into evening, the men and women met up again to head to their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. While the men had reservations for a dinner at the historic Pirate’s House, Ruby announced the locations of the bachelorette party with a mischievous look in her eye.

“First, Emma made dinner reservations for us at The Melting Pot. But no dessert,” she continued, shaking her finger at them all as they ooo-ed and ahhh-ed over Emma’s choice. “I found somewhere else for that. It’s this amazing place called Better Than Sex - A Dessert Restaurant.  Who doesn’t like their cake with a spicy dose of innuendo?”

Mary Margaret groaned…although if the dessert was as good as all that, she wouldn’t complain about their plans for the night. After taking a few moments to say goodbye to their men, the ladies made their way to The Melting Pot.

After their delicious and rather entertaining meal, they walked down the street to the dessert bar. Ruby had reserved a table for a private party, and as soon as the ladies arrived, their friendly, smiling waiter led them up to a room with red walls, plush carpeting, opulent chandeliers and gauzy white curtains covering the windows and ceiling. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles that lined a long banquet table, the chandeliers being more for ambiance than illumination. The smooth jazz music issuing from the sound system completed the atmosphere, and Mary Margaret rather felt as though they were having dessert in a very fancy boudoir.

“Are you ladies celebrating anything in particular tonight?” the server asked, glancing around the group.

“It’s her bachelorette party!” Ruby announced, pointing one exquisitely manicured finger in Mary Margaret’s direction. “She’s gonna tie the knot the day after tomorrow!”

“Congratulations!” the server beamed, “and might I say, you’ve come to the right place. I’m not just saying this; these desserts are to die for. I’ll give you a chance to look over the menu.”

“Order anything you want,” Belle said to Mary Margaret, as soon as the waiter withdrew. “It’s on us; we’re all pitching in.”

Mary Margaret took a sip of the water sitting before her place setting just as she began to peruse the selections, and she almost spit out the sip she’d taken. 

“Oh my! These dessert names are…quite something,” Elsa said with a little chuckle.

“That’s one way to put it,” Mary Margaret agreed with a smile and a shake of her head. The selections on offer had spicy names such as “Pound Town”, “Berry Bondage”, “Naughty by Nature”, “Man Flowers” and “Peanut Butter Perversion.” The descriptions themselves were so steamy they wouldn’t have been out of place on the pages of one of those bodice ripper novels with a half-naked Adonis on the cover.

After some deliberation, she decided to go with the titillatingly-named Hot Sex in Savannah. “Your wildest fantasies have come true!” the menu read. “Georgia peaches have gotten frisky with a little bourbon, pecans, and roasted habanero to reproduce a smokin’ good time. As if you weren’t already having a ball, we’ve added a friend for you to flirt with...... a tickle of our house-made bacon ice cream.” 

“What’s everyone getting?” Ruby asked. “I decided to go with the ‘Between My Red Velvet Sheets Cheesecake’.”

After a little discussion, everyone made their selections. Regina ordered the ‘Missionary Crisp’--an apple and cake-like confection. Emma opted for the ‘Morning After’ to no one’s surprise–it, after all, consisted of a chocolate and brie grilled cheese. Elsa chose the ‘Perfect Partner’, essentially a sundae made from vanilla bean ice cream and white chocolate. Belle rounded out the order with the very suggestively titled ‘Caress My Carrot’, perhaps the most decadent slice of carrot cake ever baked.

The restaurant was so very committed to its naughty puns, it had a note at the bottom of the menu that said 'and no suggestive dessert is truly complete without an equally racy cocktail'. They ordered such colorful drinks as ‘Midnight Vixen’, ‘Love Potion 69’, ‘Minty Moaner’, ‘Tingly-Tini’ and ‘Peanut-Tration’.

Mary Margaret noticed that Elsa was discreetly perusing the section almost tamely-labeled ‘for virgins.’

“So….you’re foregoing the alcohol tonight, I see,” Mary Margaret said, drawing out the first word meaningfully.

“I’ve never found a cocktail I really like,” Elsa said, studiously avoiding her friend’s gaze, a small, secret smile on her lips. “And besides, we need someone to be the designated driver.”

Mary Margaret wasn’t buying that for a moment, but before she could dig deeper to find out whether the secret hunch she’d carried since overhearing Elsa and Liam’s conversation was correct, their food and drinks arrived, and with that, all other thoughts were forgotten.

For long minutes after their desserts were served, the only sounds to be heard were soft exclamations, hums of satisfaction, and moans of ecstasy. There was no doubt about it, Mary Margaret decided. These desserts did not oversell themselves. How they’d managed to turn what was essentially a peach cobbler into such a rich, decadent, and spicy explosion of flavor on her tongue was beyond her.

“So what did you think?” Ruby asked. “Did it live up to its name?”

Mary Margaret thought for a moment. “It was good. It was very good,” she repeated, “but better than sex?” She shook her head with a smug smile. “Not a chance.”

“I did not need to hear that,” Emma muttered.

But in the end, all the ladies had to agree.

~*~*~

The men emerged from their vehicles in the parking lot of The Pirate’s House, the world famous restaurant housed in one of Savannah’s oldest buildings. The structure, only a block from the riverfront, was originally built in 1734 - a year after the town’s founding - as the quarters for the keeper of the Trustees’ Garden, the first public agricultural experimental garden in America. By the early 1750’s, Savannah was a vibrant and thriving port city and The Herb House, as it had been named, was converted into an inn that attracted sailors and pirates alike. Legend said the infamous Captain Flint actually died inside the historic building. 

“And perhaps, lingers still,” Killian intoned, his eyebrows waggling in intrigue at little Roland, whose eyes resembled round saucers.

“Really?” His high pitched screech made the men chuckle. “Is it haunted, Papa? Are we gonna see a ghost?” His voice got impossibly higher as he all but jumped up and down grabbing the hem of Robin’s shirt. “ARE WE GONNA SEE THE GHOST OF CAPTAIN FLINT, PAPA?”

“Not quite, Roland,” Robin explained. “Uncle Killian doesn’t quite have his facts straight.”

“Oi!” Killian protested.

“Captain Flint wasn’t a real pirate,” Robin continued, as if Killian hadn’t spoken at all. “He wasn’t even a real man. He’s a character in the story of Treasure Island written by Robert Louis Stevenson back in the 1880’s.”

“Wowwww,” Roland breathed. “So when you and Uncle Liam were little?” he asked, innocently. Loud guffaws burst out of Killian and Will alike, with Graham and David able to contain their mirth a little better, hiding their laughter behind their hands, their eyes dancing in amusement. Liam snorted and shook his head.

“We’re not that old,” Robin chuckled, ruffling Roland’s curls, “But it is said that The Pirate’s House inspired Stevenson to write it, using a fictional Captain Flint to set the story in motion.” 

The men and little boy stepped onto the porch and through the door of the establishment to be greeted by the hostess. The exterior was gray wooden clapboard with light blue shutters over very weathered red brick, but when they stepped inside, the dark wood paneling, low wooden ceilings, and various piratical accoutrements scattered around were enough to make one feel as if he really had stepped back in time a couple hundred years. 

In the corner across from the door, a life-sized carved wooden pirate stood sentry at the crossroads between the bar (for Thirsty Pirates, according to the small sign above the hostess station pointing left), restaurant (for Hungry Pirates, according to another sign pointing to the right), and the stairs leading up to the second story where the gift shop could be found.

Roland was beside himself and begged Robin to take his picture with the statue who could only be Captain Flint before being let loose in the gift shop to find pirate toys to play with back at the cottage. Robin waved the others on, telling them they’d catch up in a few minutes. 

It only took Roland about ten minutes to fully outfit himself with a plastic sword and hook, a pirate hat, and an eye patch, as well as a door hanger with the Jolly Roger flag on it and the caption NO TRESPASSING PIRATE’S TERRITORY. The men all laughed and cheered when he and Robin made their appearance at the table.

“Arrrrrrr, me hearties!” Roland growled, jumping out from around the corner as Robin made his way to an empty seat. He prowled around the table, swinging the sword this way and that until his father admonished him to be careful not to hit anyone or anything with it. Once he was seated, David showed him the kids’ menu and helped him pick his meal of the Frozen Rainbow- a very fruity frozen drink- and Bold Billy Bones, which consisted of fried shrimp and special Pirate’s House fries.

Once all their orders were placed and their waiter withdrew, a female pirate approached. She had long strawberry blonde hair and wore a bright red long-sleeved blouse underneath a leather vest and tight leather pants.

“Ah ha!” she gasped, focusing on Roland at the other end of the table. “It be the villainous Captain Hook.”

Roland didn’t miss a beat. He jumped to his feet, brandishing his sword and challenged the female pirate to a duel. She drew her own blade, and they proceeded to cross swords for just a few seconds, the men whooping and hollering encouragement to Roland before the lady was disarmed. She smiled proudly at the boy and declared him a master swordsman to have defeated the most famous female pirate of all time, Anne Bonny.

She offered to show Roland around the Pirate’s House, and Will jumped up and took Roland by the hand to go see some of the historical artifacts and the rum cellar, stating that he was sure Belle would be interested to hear about it. 

While Will and Roland were gone, their drinks arrived. The pirate theme was pervasive throughout the restaurant, and the guys had had a great time choosing their respective drinks. First, they ordered two Diplomatico Rum Flights to share between them all. Well, David and Robin as the designated drivers didn’t indulge in the rum flights but focused on a single cocktail for the evening. David had the Savannah Tea while Robin chose the Savannah Storm. Killian had trouble choosing between Pirate’s Pleasure and Release the Kraken, but finally settled on Pirate’s Pleasure when Liam chose the Kraken. But once the drinks were delivered and Liam offered Killian a sip, he opted for the Kraken as well to accompany his meal. Graham chose the Raspberry Mojito because it reminded him of Ruby, and Will ordered the Skull Crusher in a souvenir skull mug.

A few minutes later, Anne Bonny, Will, and Roland returned to the table, Will sporting quite a goose egg on his forehead over his right eye.

“What happened to you?” David asked loudly. Roland ran to Robin talking a mile a minute.

“Uncle Will was going down the stairs to the rum cellar and was telling me to watch my step and didn’t see the… the…”

“The bloody roof of the cellar, or floor we’re walking on, whatever,” Will interrupted.

“Yeah, what Uncle Will said,” Roland said, turning back to Robin and continuing his monologue with hardly a breath in between. “And bam, Uncle Will hit his head and then fell on his bottom on the stairs and bump-bump-bumped down to the bottom,” he said, with appropriate sound effects included. “The first step was really big, and Pirate Anne was holding my hand so I didn’t fall, and Uncle Will turned back around just in time to hit his head. He says his noggin is fine, but his butt is sore. Again.” It didn’t take much imagination for the men to realize that those were the exact words out of Will’s mouth when the accident happened, and they all broke into loud laughter.

Will sat down - slowly and carefully - and immediately took a sip of his drink, waving aside the skeptical look Killian shot him. 

“I’m fine, Mate,” he said. “But look at the skull! How cool is that?”

“And it’s not even cracked like yours, Mate!” Graham cackled.

The other men all laughed as Will grumbled under his breath before taking another sip.

Roland proceeded to recount all the history and things they’d seen and experienced during their private tour, with Anne Bonny staying at the table to fill in details that Roland missed. 

“There was definitely something weird over in the corner of the rum cellar,” Will interjected when Roland was telling them about the giant Jolly Roger flag down there and how there were chains suspended from the ceiling that just started swinging all on their own. “Where the tunnels led down to the river,” Will continued. “Just like an electrical current, felt kind of odd. Not cold, but odd. I don’t know if it was a ghost or not…”

“Of course, it was, Uncle Will!” Roland interrupted. “Captain Flint,” he said, attempting to make his voice low and gravelly. “He died here, remember? It had to be his ghost.” 

Everyone laughed good naturedly, then Anne spoke. “No, not Captain Flint, me bucko,” she said, her rich Irish brogue dripping from every word, a mischievous smile on her face, “but perhaps the Rowdy Ghost who usually haunts the Captain’s Room next door. Ee’s been known to follow patrons down to the rum cellar and play tricks on ‘em. Now this room that y’ere in is haunted by the Friendly Ghost. It’s a bit of a misnomer. Ee’s not exactly friendly, but more of a prankster. Ee’ll switch drinks around, steal food, that sort of thing.”

Just then, their meals arrived. Once everyone was served and beginning to dig into the delicious looking and smelling banquet, Liam announced loudly, “Well, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

No sooner had the words left his lips when his plate of parmesan crusted tilapia flipped over, depositing his meal on the surface of the table, the upended plate landing on top. There was stunned silence for a moment before Killian spoke up, hoping to diffuse a potentially traumatic occurrence for the precocious and brave, but still very small, boy in their midst.  

“That’ll teach you to say you don’t believe in ghosts inside a clearly haunted house, big brother,” he teased. Roland’s eyes were still as huge as saucers, his mouth hanging open slightly, but he laughed when everyone else did as Liam turned as red as a ripe tomato. Robin shot Killian a grateful look, and Anne grabbed Liam’s plate.

“Aye,” Anne agreed, “It’s never wise to express disbelief in the resident spirits in a haunted house. I’ll just fetch ye a new plate, Sir.”

Once his replacement dinner arrived, Liam joined the rest of them in enjoying the excellent repast. No more ghostly incidents occurred, much to Robin’s relief, and by the end of the meal Roland was yawning nearly every thirty seconds.

Anne appeared again as they were all rising from the table. “Ah, me bucko, I see that ye have cleared yere plate of Bold Billy Bones’ fried shrimp and special fries. And your Tiny Tim dessert as well! Ye’ve earned a trip to Billy’s treasure chest in the lobby.” That got Roland’s attention quickly, and he perked up and took her outstretched hand, following her through the restaurant until they emerged in the lobby. He hadn’t noticed it when they came in, but there in the corner was a real wooden treasure chest filled to the brim with lollipops.

“Can I have one, Papa? Can I?” Roland begged.

“Sure,” Robin agreed, an indulgent smile on his face.

After Roland picked his treat, they all emerged into the night, piled into their vehicles and went to pick up their ladies for the drive home to the cottages.

~*~*~

Notes

As with previous chapters, most of what we had our characters do in this chapter was taken from our actual adventures.

We met Giennie for the day in Savannah and she took us on a tour of one of the very old cemeteries (although our excursion was in Colonial Park Cemetery. We didn’t have time to tour Bonaventure Cemetery like Regina and Robin did). We also drove around some of the squares with the magnificent live oaks and Spanish moss.  

With a little bit of time to kill before our reservations for the evening, we took a walk by the river and saw many of the same sights Emma, Killian, Liam and Elsa saw– The Broken Keel, street performers, river boats and memorial sculptures.

We did indeed eat at The Melting Pot, but our dinner was on the way to our rental on the first day of vacation rather than during our primary Savannah day. Unlike the ladies in our story, we opted for the full 5 course celebration rather than the cheese and meat courses alone.

Better Than Sex: A Dessert Restaurant is an actual Savannah restaurant, and while we discussed going, it wouldn’t fit in our schedule. The descriptions of the private party room as well as the names and descriptions of the desserts and cocktails were taken from the restaurant’s website. When we were planning this fic, we had fun choosing desserts and cocktails for the characters.

The Pirate House is also a Savannah restaurant, but this one we did visit. Our evening involved not only dinner at The Pirate House but a haunted tour of the city beforehand and a tour of the (now rum-less) rum cellar. Our table was in the Herb House, which is the oldest part of the restaurant, built in the 18th century. Our waiter was not, in fact, Anne Bonny - historical female pirate - but she made a nice addition to our story. Was she really there? Was she a ghost? Was she a waitress in costume? I guess we’ll never know. The large first step and the low entrance to the rum cellar were real. As we descended the stairs, we immediately knew Will had to crack his cranium one more time as a callback to last year’s fic in addition to denting his derriere. Again. We were also told stories about the ghosts that haunt the Pirate House–from floating orbs to the ghosts named in the story. None of us had any kind of paranormal experience – although one of the guys in our tour group tried to trick our guide into thinking there was – by setting some chains in motion when the guide told us they sometimes move on their own.

Up next on Thursday: Big moments for all of our couples! The most significant being David and Mary Margaret’s wedding, of course – but there are several other secrets revealed, as well as a life-changing moment aboard a riverboat.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! We'll be back with our final ch on Thursday!

[speakofthedebbie]

this one goes out to my platonic soulmate @starryeyeddreamer21 :3 (IDK HOW MY HCS ENDED UP SO SIMILAR TO YOURS I SWEAR IT JS HAPPENED-)

only the hazbin gang + luci and cherri cuz im biased

hazbin charas rated least to most likely to crash the car during the charlie-mandated bonding road trip

husk

dont wanna js repeat what i said here but i strongly believe he would be the least likely to crash. forget what people say about old people driving, id trust his old man back over literally anyone else any day of the week.

2. alastor

(whaat i was checking when cars were invented to see if he would even know how to drive one no siree-) on a serious note, while i just cant picture him driving, i feel like he would still know how out of principle. he'll def put on some jazz and throw you out the window if you try to change it.

3. luci

while starr (can i call you that?) brings up the good point of him not needing to cuz flying/teleportation/having drivers, you cant really live as long as he has without knowing a thing or two. his ass would def need pedal extenders tho LMAO-

4. vaggie

she also tech need to cuz wings/princess of hell girlfriend priviliges, i wouldnt put it past her. but once again, gonna need some pedal extenders-

5. sir pentious

while he doesnt have feet, im sure hed be more than able to make a lil something. i mean he piloted a zeppelin, im sure he can manage a car-

6. charlie

inspired partially by Igual (long winding chaggie fic that you should totally check out!), i feel charlie would be the type to just.. not know how to do basic things cuz of her sheltered upbringing (no hate to her parents, lord knows theres a lot of shit to shelter her from in hell lol) she would be waaay too overly cautious, to the point where it earns her more problems. i wouldnt exactly trust her behind the wheel, but if worst came to worst it probs wouldnt be that bad.

7. niffty

first of all, short. second of all, given her already erratic behaviour in the show, im not sure it would be wise to trust her in a vehicle. that is if they dont forget her loud house style LMAO-

8. angel/cherri

theyre both so bad they had to share a tier. likewise to starr, theyre def the daredevil types. to quote starr: "[Angel]'s always driving like he's running from the cops" and honestly, given his life history, he probs was LMAO- i love them, but i would not trust their asses behind the wheel if it killed me. just like them driving probably would-

seriously, go check out starr's version! i was focusing purely on the driving aspect, so theirs is more in dept

next up, picking random ass words and making hazbin headcanons out of them- (jkjk... unless?)

[mostremote]

What's been most exciting for you about your upcoming eversnow roadtrip romcom longfic, We Wild Creatures? Anything you wish/can share with us about it before posting starts? And how long (word count-wise) do you think it might get?

Thank you for the ask!!

Most exciting: in The Shivering Season Katniss’ attraction to Snow develops out of a trauma response, and though she begins the story able to acknowledge his handsomeness and concludes it taking a certain delight in his beauty, the majority of the fic frames his body through a lens of disgust. This is totally unfair because Donald Sutherland is, of course, absolutely fucking gorgeous, and We Wild Creatures will present Katniss’ slow attraction to him in much healthier terms. In short, I get to write about how incredibly beautiful and sexy Sutherland is without that frame of disgust. Yaaay!

Length: The story is in two parts, The Wilds and The Warren. Part one should be around 80k words, of which I’ve drafted 50k+. I expect Part Two to be shorter, but I really don’t know! I would like it to be shorter than The Shivering Season, but, uh, I do sometimes get carried away and write more than perhaps I should. So, 130k?

Anything to share: The story is set after Mockingjay, where Coin survives Katniss’ arrow and Snow escapes. Katniss is sent to find Snow, take him as prisoner, and escort him across the landscape to the rebel base as part of a plan to overthrow Coin. Road trip! On the way, they get to know one another very, very well.

This story puts two people in a survival situation where their unmanageably painful history no longer matters, because if they don’t cooperate they will die. If dwelling on that history only brings you more pain, what do you do with it? Here, Snow is completely powerless and willing to obey Katniss, because she is the only thing of value left in his life. What kind of justice can you enact against an old man who regrets nothing and is now basically harmless? Katniss might decide she has had enough of suffering, but that doesn’t mean everybody else Snow has wronged feels the same way. She becomes his protector as much as he is her prisoner.

And it’s about bodies and humanity. Taking two extremely different people who share so much pain, and forcing them to reckon with one another as human bodies struggling to survive. Getting to know a person as a living, breathing animal. And perhaps you want that human animal in your life more than you want to kill the monster you imagined him to be (the monster that he is). Snow cannot be forgiven (and does not want to be), but if you find some other value in a person than your hatred for them, what do you do with that?

And, also, it’s about trust, affection, self-discovery, age, gender, and sexuality. We are going to be Sexualizing That Old Man in this story. Whereas Part 1 deals with Katniss and Snow crossing the wilds, Part 2 deals with their time at the rebel base alongside Haymitch, Gale, and Johanna. How will those characters react to Katniss and Snow’s growing bond? Not well!!

[all-seeing-ifer]

For the wip ask game, i wanna hear more about origin of species!

already talked about it here but here's another snippet. as mentioned this fucking thing is close to hitting 50k and choosing bits to share is tough so i'm just deferring to my beta reader's opinion here. she liked this bit

“Hey, don’t sell us short!” Fred leapt in, “We’ve actually been doing pretty great work! I’ve got a whole lab now! Did Angel tell you that?” “Yeah, he mentioned,” Cordy said quietly. So it wasn’t just Angel who was completely delusional about this being a good idea. Apparently they’d got to Fred as well.  She’d kind of expected better. Fred might not be as paranoid anymore as she was immediately after coming back from Pylea, but she’d have thought some of her survival instincts would have stuck around. But Fred seemed totally oblivious to any potential dangers

honestly there's a lot of bits I've written with fred that I like a lot. she doesn't even really have a major role in this but idk. she's a lot of fun to write.

ALSO since I do love talking about my baby have some more fun facts about Stuff That Happens in this fic:

cordy and gunn go on history's worst road trip

angel is a good cook and a terrible therapist

a whole lotta zoology metaphors!

a whole lotta performing arts metaphors!

cordy and lilah attempt to have a bonding moment. it does not go well

no one has a single good coping mechanism between them

oh, and for the record, it was a lot less directly inspired by animorphs than the title and premise may imply. i promise