#this started as an excuse to draw her in those heart sandals and then i ended up doing an entire page to fill the space

[pocasu]

miss bazooka bubblegum herself 🎀

[thedistantdusk]

Expectations

For the Hinny Christmas Fest, so kindly organized by @fightfortherightsofhouseelves​! Got this one in just under the wire! :D Thanks to @floreatcastellumposts​ and @kmi-kmi​ for giving it a look over for me! Rated a soft T for references to sex. On AO3. 

________

Molly Weasley is a lot of things. But she’s not an idiot. 

Even if she hadn’t once been a teen in the throes of a serious relationship on the heels of a war (which, incidentally, she was), she did raise seven children. Seven Gryffindor children. Seven Gryffindor children who, by default, have each thought themselves far more competent at sneaking around than they truly are.

As such, she’s fairly certain of when Harry and Ginny became... intimate... this summer. Not that she wants the details. Her interest is limited to ensuring that her daughter — that all of her children, Harry and Hermione most definitely included — are well-informed on the inherent risks of what they’re doing. The knowledge of their intimacy was just one of those things that even the most oblivious of parents would have found impossible to ignore. In the span of two days, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny went from “taking long walks in the garden” to feigning yawns and calling it an early night at 7 PM. Besides, Ron and Hermione had already been to Australia by themselves; only a moron would truly believe their nights were strictly filled with knitting caps for house elves. 

And as has been said before, Molly is a lot of things... but she’s not a bloody idiot. She knows some might expect her to maintain a puritanical stance on sex (as if she hadn’t birthed seven children of her own). She knows some might have disagreed with her stance on letting things unfold as they did. But as she’s learned over the past year, happiness — true happiness — is hard to find. 

After months of thinking she’d never see happiness on her children’s faces again, she first spotted it in Ginny’s eyes last May. Back then, it was a creeping, hesitant sort of look... the type that dipped its toes in the waters of joy for a split-second before retreating like a frightened doe. 

But as the weeks progress, she sees it more and more often — and not just in Ginny’s eyes. She sees happiness in the lazy quirk of Harry’s lips as Ginny takes his hand beneath the table. She sees it in the bobbing of Ron’s Adam’s Apple as Hermione descends the stairs in a sundress. She sees it in the way Hermione let a sandal dangle from her toe as she tilts her chin towards the sun.

By now, the four of them have coupled up properly, just as she suspected they would. It was in equal parts charming and bittersweet, but Molly knows better than anyone that there’s nothing quite like a war to rearrange one’s priorities. 

And when she considers all of that, plus the fact that certain fractals of darkness will never truly leave them (just as they’ll never truly leave her)... who would she have been, really, to snatch such joy away?

So, yes, Molly spends the summer fully aware they’re intimate beneath her roof. But after the plague of chaos and confusion and uncertainty and fear that followed their family for close to a year, she honestly prefers them beneath her roof then in a tent somewhere, filled with cat piss and loneliness. 

However — and Molly admits this part makes her a bit cheeky — she does enjoy the unnecessary pageantry they go to over the summer to conceal what they’re doing. The four of them actually think they’re good at hiding it, even as Harry rakes his eyes over Ginny’s... erm... back. Even as she Hermione parades around the kitchen in Ron’s old jumper. Even as she hears, each night, as Ginny’s feet land in the attic as Ron’s land in Ginny’s room. Alas, the whole thing is too hilarious and contrived for her to spoil, so she simply doesn’t. 

But then the girls return to school after a summer that’s both agonizingly long and tenderly fleeting. Harry and Ron find a flat together and enter training. What remains of their lives returns to normal, even though Molly feels she’ll always be picking up the piece of a puzzle that can’t be solved. 

She keeps herself busy as fall turns to winter, though. She volunteers with Ministry relief efforts. She writes to Ginny often. She makes an effort to try harder with Fleur, to rebuild her relationship with Percy, to assist George if she can, to stay close with her husband. She knows her life will forever be separated into two parts: before and after. She knows that the remainder of her days will contain a deep-seated longing that tinges her world with shades of gray. This is a unique type of pain, she knows… the sort of pain only a mother can feel. The sort of pain that takes her breath away if she lets it. 

But she also knows the best way to keep moving is to maintain the traditions that made them a family in the first place. 

So she sticks to holiday routines as Christmas approaches. Waking early. Cleaning the house. Decorating with tinsel and paper chains. Preparing for everyone’s arrival. Christmas will never be the same… not without him. But if only for George’s sake, Molly knows she needs to try. 

She suggests that Harry spend the night on Christmas Eve, just so he isn’t alone; she assumes (correctly) that they haven’t quite got the nerve to ask if Ginny can spend the night at the flat instead. By now, Harry is essentially an overnight Christmas fixture anyway; even when they do get up the nerve to ask, Molly expects he’ll continue to stay over. Or so she hopes so, anyway. The alternative still makes her feel a bit broken, but she’ll cross that bridge when it comes. 

So when Harry, Ron, and Ginny head upstairs after a night of festivities on Christmas Eve, Molly assumes they’ll be back to their old tricks. Hermione’s spending the night with her parents, but it wouldn’t be the least bit surprising if she apparates in. After all, they think they’ve got a foolproof plan that’ll last through everyone’s departure from school. Announcing she’s been aware of this plan the whole time would only spoil things… and Molly doesn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. Not this year. 

After a half-sleepless night, Molly rises early on Christmas Day. She continues to stick to routines, to never deviate from what she can control; today is a day that could be especially miserable, if she lets it. So when she emerges from the toilet at half past seven, she doesn’t expect to see anyone in the cold, dark corridor. From the amount everyone drank last night, she assumed their switching-bedrooms routine would be pushed back, just a bit. 

Then again, it’s not just anyone she sees in the corridor, his foot poised on the step leading to the attic. 

It’s Harry. 

Sleep-tousled, disheveled Harry — and as much as it makes her cringe to admit, he does look… more relaxed. 

At least until they make eye contact. 

For the life of her, Molly’s never seen anyone transform so quickly from chuffed to terrified. Any hint of relaxation slides from his face, his back going rigid. Harry freezes, stock-still, his white-socked foot still poised on the step, his eyes filled with the sort of blinding terror she hasn’t seen in seven months. If it weren’t for that, really, she’d find the whole thing humorous. But seeing as how she’d rather not see that look on his face again, she opts to take pity on him. 

After a bit of gentle prodding, that is. 

“Harry, dear,” Molly says softly; she’s certain Ginny’s still asleep, but it’s best not to chance it. “Wherever are you going so early in the morning?”

Harry swallows and awkwardly moves his jaw like he’s forgotten how to speak. “I’m, erm,” he starts, his voice torn between graveled with sleep and high-pitched with terror. “I’m… going to the toilet?”

Molly can’t help the smirk that crawls to her lips as she nods to her left. “You’ve just missed it, dear.”

Shit. 

Harry doesn’t say the word, but it’s written across his face, plain as day. He shifts his weight, his face blanching even more; she can almost see the wheels spin in his head as he thinks of another excuse. 

“I’ve… erm. Sleepwalked?” 

Molly’s smirk broadens to a full-on grin as she crosses her arms over her chest. Is that how he’s going to play it? In that case, she’ll keep up the ruse, too. 

“Oh? What an unfortunate affliction!” she exclaims, hoping she’s masking her amusement with feigned concern. “You’ll need to see a healer, Harry. How have you managed to make it down such steep steps in the first place? It’s remarkable you’ve stayed safe so far! In future, I really think—“

But when Harry cuts her off, it’s not with another excuse; it’s with a remark that’s hasty and blurted, but ringing with truth. He just blinks, sets his jaw, and gives her with an expression so endearing, so honest, that it makes her entire Christmas. 

“—I’m going to marry her, Mrs. Weasley,” he interrupts, removing his foot from the step as he turns to face her… and right in front of her face, the hollow fear in his eyes fades into sharp nobility. 

He draws a deep breath, running his hand through his hair, even as Molly’s head spins, even as her heart leaps to her throat, even as his words breathe more life into her soul than she’s felt in months. 

“So I’m sorry if this”— he gestures to Ginny’s room— “is weird. Really, I am. But please, believe me when I say I’ll do the right—”

But Molly has no idea if he says another word. She’s even too taken aback to correct him on the Mrs. Weasley bit. Because she can’t stand another bloody second of Harry having to justify himself… not when she’s thrilled that he’s in her life. That he’s in Ginny’s life. That he’s saved their lives. 

Not when he’s just confirmed what she’s always hoped and dreamed for: that he would truly, properly join their family. 

She’s not even aware of her feet running towards him, of the delighted squeal from her mouth as tears of joy stream down her face. All she feels is Harry relaxing against her shoulder, his arm awkwardly patting her on the back, even as she continues to jump and shriek.

“Not erm… anytime too soon?” he manages, through her hysterics. “I just didn’t want you to think—”

Oh, please! 

Molly pulls away from the hug with a sharp glare. “Harry,” she says firmly. “Of all the things I’ve thought about you, doing the wrong thing never even crossed my mind. So I’ll hear none of that. I just…” She trails off, wiping her eyes. “I didn’t know you’d be so serious so fast! But of course I’m happy, dear. So happy!”

Harry gives her a fervent nod and a smile… and unless she’s very much mistaken, she can see the hint of a tear in his eye too as she pulls him in for another hug.

Marry her.

He’s going to marry her! Harry Potter is going to marry her daughter! He’s going to stand at the altar, his green eyes brimming, the cause of his scar a distant memory. Molly can envision Ginny in white, her red hair gorgeous in contrast, her face split into a smile she can’t contain. Or maybe none of that will happen. Right now, Molly doesn’t really care. All she knows is that they’re to be married... and the thought alone is absolutely beautiful, isn’t it? That something so lovely could come from a year so dreadful?

In truth, Molly did expect this — eventually. After all, she spent months observing how Harry looks at Ginny. She’s seen the softness in his eyes and the protectiveness in his jaw. It’s clear he loves her; Molly just never expected she’d be given permission to properly call him her son in the same year she lost one. 

And as she cries and hugs him, Molly is happy for two things: that her family will soon be even bigger and happier than she’d ever hoped... and that her daughter (approximately ten meters away) has always been a very heavy sleeper.

[baronesscmd]

@anubis-005 has graciously allowed me to continue writing her sinfully delightful Nene’s Inferno Au, so I bring you the next installment. I hope you enjoy, and thank you. And go check out all her artwork; its absolutely amazing and deserves all the love!

AH! DISCLAIMER! CONTAINS SCENES OF SEXUAL INNUENDO/REFERENCES/SITUATIONS!

 He dropped himself to the ground, pulling her flush against him. One hand curled around her arm as the other caught her chin, bringing her gaze directly to the smoldering golden stare that was attempting to burn her alive. 

Nene's face flushed as he leaned in, tongue flicking over the sharp fangs in his mouth as he tipped his head so the heat of his words brushed against her lips. 

"You won't be needing those clothes."

**

“EXCUSE ME?!!”

Nene felt her pulse stutter and pick up double-time as the demon leaned closer, claws pricking at the soft curve of her cheeks as her whole body burned from his implications. She tried to push away, tried to get as much space between her and the demon before her; he wasn’t having it. The hand on her arm slid around her waist, pinning her tight against his chest as he smirked. 

“Oh yes, my sweet little Angel; that uniform just has to go.”

She felt those claws curl into her sash and tug, and before she could even make a sound, before she could try and push herself away; he moved. His hand slid from her waist to cup her bottom and squeeze, and she shrieked as he hauled her up and over his shoulder. 

He spun on his heel, whistling as he headed deeper into the maze as she tried to get loose. Nene beat her fists against his back and kicked her legs, trying to ignore the sharp curve of his shoulder as it pressed into her belly.

Harder to ignore was the hand hooked around her knees, and the thumb that was making tiny circles against her thigh. Worse than that though, was the hand still on her butt. She struggled harder, flushing as he patted the soft curve of her cheeks. 

 "PUT ME DOWN! AND DONT TOUCH ME!"

Nene let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a scream as the demon chucked, pinching her as he nipped at her hip through the fabric of her dress.

"My my, aren't you a feisty one! You'll be great fun. I can already tell. But you have to behave, my Angel, or your new Master will punish you.

"And while I can guarantee you will not enjoy it, I shall have a delightful time."

She continued to struggle against him until the band around her finger began to burn. She yelped and folded, her chin bouncing into his back as she curled her hands together. 

It hurt, more than anything she had ever experienced. Like something was trying to claw at her soul, to tear her open and lay her bare. She watched through her tears as the demon's tail looped around her wrists, and as suddenly as the pain had come on, it vanished.

"Ah, fun little bit about that Bond, my Angel." 

She stiffened in his grasp as he drew a claw down her thigh before his fingers crept back up to pinch her.

"You cannot disobey me."

Cold stole through Nene's limbs and she went still and silent. The demon laughed, the echo of it reverberating through her own chest in a hollow imitation of joy. The tail squeezed her wrists, and she swallowed back her tears. 

Beneath them, the grassy maze gave way to cobblestones, and she planted her hands against the small of his back as he spun around. 

"Welcome to your new home, Angel."

Nene lifted her head, biting back a gasp at the palace before her; she had not expected something so elegant of a design in Hell. It rose from a tangle of wild roses like a crouching beast, sweeping up into the skyline like nothing she had seen. 

In Heaven, the buildings had been white, and gold and silver-toned. It had felt like walking through a dream, with open shutters and friendly hellos as she passed. This was quite the opposite. 

This was a nightmare of brick, wood, bone, and glass. Shadows hung from the twisted black iron of the balconies like discarded clothes, the stained glass depicting demons in different throes of lust. 

Ivy twisted it's way up the cracks of the black stones, twisting around marble statues carved in obscene positions. She averted her eyes as they passed a set of skeletons, entwined together, forever frozen in the moment of completion. 

And the arch of the grand doorway, before the demon carrying her turned on his heel to march her under it, was carved in stark white bone with the twisted limbs and slack faces of those who had given in to the Sin of Lust.

The inside was as hauntingly beautiful as the exterior, with dark walls and black marble floors. Golden lamps spilled light in fleeting puddles, and Nene saw more than one alcove with the entwined forms of sated bodies. 

He hauled her through the dining hall, whispers rising as the few demons who happened to be awake caught sight of them. Painted mouths disappeared behind razor-tipped nails as she knew they began to gossip, and more than one pair of hungry, hooded eyes raked over her form, leaving her feeling filthy. 

Nene tried to remember the twists and turns he took so she could attempt an escape, but when they passed the same low table with a couple half-concealed beneath it again, she knew he had purposely misled her.

Each path was more confusing than the last, some with high, vaulted ceilings that the light could not illuminate, and others with low curving beams that pulled the shadows close enough to touch. 

And the paintings! Nene could look nowhere and find a patch of wall that was not hung with obscenities. Even what she assumed were flowers, painted in soft brush strokes, resembled a part of her own anatomy that the demon's hand was much too close to.

He took them down a long hallway, the doors at the beginning doing little to conceal the moans and cries of the pleasure-seekers within. She flushed and tried to raise her hands to cover her ears to block out the sounds, but the tail held her fast. 

They turned again, and this hallway was silent but for the echo of his footsteps. His hand stroked from the curve of her waist to the back of her knee before he kicked a door open. 

Nene watched with increasing panic as the heavy wooden doors fell shut behind them, lock sliding into place as her heart sank. She was trapped, completely and utterly. 

She had no time to admire the room, richly decorated in swathes of black and red satin as the demon fisted his hand in the back of her dress and dumped her onto a bed.

It took her a second, as she was consumed by tangled scarlet silk and plush pillows as dark as a raven's wing, that she was not in just any bedroom, tumbled onto a sinfully soft bed. 

Nene was sprawled across the sheets in the bed that belonged to the Lord of Lust, locked in this den of depravity and debauchery. 

She watched with horror as he set a knee to the bed and dragged her closer, pinning her beneath his lithe form as she tried to get away, even though she knew it was useless. His mouth nipped at her throat, tongue sliding up her skin before he sucked a bruise into the tender flesh as he groaned. 

"You taste like innocence and divinity. And I am going to enjoy corrupting you."

He shoved her knees apart and settled against her, and before he could side his hand from her waist to her breast or between her legs, Nene threw her arms against his chest with a cry. 

She wasn't sure who was more surprised as he was tossed back, his black eyes lightening to amber as they both watched the pale gold band form around his tail. She scrambled from beneath him, not getting far before he hooked his hand around her chubby ankle. 

He didn’t draw her back to him, which she found odd, but he seemed more preoccupied with the sharp flicks he made to try and fling the ring off. The swing of it was rather hypnotic, and Nene gasped as his claws bit into her skin as he yanked her down the bed. 

She drew her knees up as he loomed over her, and she watched as his eyes flickered rapidly over her face, as if there was something hidden in her own gaze that would explain what had happened. His mouth split into a wicked smile and he hauled her up, locking one arm around her as she thrashed in his hold as he snapped his fingers. 

Seconds later, three scantily clad demonesses hurried through the door, all wearing the same outfit of a black and white maids uniform, and dipped into deep curtsies. Nene paled as he shoved her forward; the tallest demoness, who had ripped the front of her blouse so that her very generous bust could be seen through the heart shape, caught her by the arm before she could hit the floor. 

“Dress our little Angel in her new uniform; she’ll be joining you in your duties starting today.”

Nene whipped her head around as another of the demoness’ hurried away, the ruffles of her dress barely touching the top of her thighs. He couldn’t really mean to put her in something so revealing, but the sly smile as their eyes met showed that he absolutely did. 

She shrieked as the demons pulled at her uniform, trying to bat their hands away to no avail. The taller one unsnapped the buttons on her collar as the other pulled her sash free, and she could do nothing as the third came back with her arms full of fabric. 

They stripped her quickly and efficiently, though their touch lingered on her skin like a burn. She clung to her thin shift as they tried to pull it off, even as they knocked her off balance to remove her sandals. They couldn’t take her shift, she’d be naked; no one had ever seen her naked. The demoness caught her hands in a bruising grip and bunched the fabric in her free hand.

“Let her keep it.”

They all froze, turning to the Demon Lord reclining on his bed. His grin was as filthy as it was seductive, and Nene tried to draw her hands down to cover herself as his eyes raked over her, his tail flicking lazily against his thigh. She may as well have been completely bare before him with the way his gaze smoldered. 

“Yes, M’Lord.”

She didn’t struggle as they pulled the fabric over her head and harshly tugged her braids free of the collar, didn’t comment as they shoved her into the neat black shoes, muffled a gasp as they tied the bow of her apron with enough force to nearly drive the air from her lungs.

The demons hurried out as he snapped his fingers, one poking back in briefly to drop a mop, broom, and bucket inside the door with a cruel grin before it closed behind her. Nene kept her eyes shut as he crossed the room and curled his hands around her hips. 

There was nothing she could do as he twisted her from side to side and then turned her, trailing his claws across her belly as he pressed his face into her hair. She could feel the curve of his smile against the shell of her ear before he pulled away.

“You might as well look, my little Angel. You’ll be seeing yourself in it for the foreseeable future. Unless you’d like to clean in the nude.”

Nene snapped her eyes open as heat flooded her cheeks, and was surprised to find herself in a uniform that, while still inappropriate, covered much more than she was expecting. The puffed black sleeves left her arms bare, and the dark ruffles of her skirt at least came to her knees. It was actually cute, with the frilled overskirt and pink and white heart over her chest. 

“By the grace of providence we had one in your size.”

She glared at him as he chuckled as he floated behind her, magicing the bucket, mop, and broom into her hands. Providence, as if; more like limitless lechery, she thought as he adjusted her headband. She truly was stuck here, this wasn’t just an elaborate nightmare. 

Nene jumped with a scream as his hand smacked her bottom, cleaning supplies flying as he caught her up in his arms. That damned tail wound around her leg as if it had a mind of its own as he pinned her hands to his chest so he could twirl the ring around her finger. 

“And, my little Angel; a few more things.”

He bent her nearly backward as he slid his knee between her own, the tension in her spine the only thing keeping her from sprawling back over the bed. The ring on her finger seemed to burn with the same intensity as the one tapping against her thigh.

“You will be my personal attendant; you will wake me, bring me meals if I do not dine in the hall. When I do dine in the hall, you shall serve me. Ah ah, I’m not finished,” his finger pressed against her lips to silence her protests, “You will help me bathe, and dress, and cater to any of my whims.”

His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom and bring her hips flush to his. The hard lines of his body settled against the soft curves of her own with a familiarity that made her flush. 

“And I shall allow you to keep your innocence; for now.”

The press of him to the intimate place between her thighs made her whimper and tremble, and he only smirked. 

“Also, you shall address me as “My Lord” or “Master” when you speak to me; is that clear, my Angel?”

Nene dipped her head and mumbled as he shifted against her, his tail tightening around her thigh like a demonic garter. 

“I didn’t hear you, Angel.”

She lifted her head, meeting those blazing eyes with her own as she curled her nails into his chest and watched him wince. 

“Yes, Master.”

He dipped his head, mouth a breath from hers as he pressed their bodies closer together. Heat flooded her at every point they met, and she let her eyes flicker down to his lips worriedly.

“Good girl.”

And then he was gone. 

Nene sank onto the edge of the bed as he swept his hand out and the cleaning supplies disappeared with the spilled water. He pulled open the door of his room and gestured into the hall.

“Come along, unless you wish for me to take you now.”

She shot up from the bed and hurried to the entrance, shuttering as he laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her. 

“You have much to see before you help me tonight, and I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

Nene felt despair sink into her soul as he led her back down those twisting halls. There were more demons now, peeking from doorways and corners as they headed to the servants quarters. Eyes followed her every step, and the whispers hung in the air like a death sentence. 

The Lord of Lust had an Angel for a plaything, and wouldn’t he have fun with her? 

Her master’s hand slid lower as his tail lashed against her with every step, and she bit back her tears. This was her own fault, she had gotten herself into this mess. And she would have to be the one to get herself out. There would be no Divine Intervention to save her; the Angels did not listen to the cries that rose from Hell. 

If Nene wanted to escape, she’d have to do it herself.

And @anubis-005 Thank you SOOO much for this again! It is, as always, an honor and pleasure to work with you!!! <3 :3

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 9: Terrors and Delights of the Great Unknown

Chapter Summary: Claire gets her first taste of the human world.

Read on AO3

Read chapter 9 below the cut

Previous, from beginning , next

Chapter 9: Terrors and Delights of the Great Unknown

***

Claire clung tightly to his hand as he led her through the streets of Inverness. Her eyes were huge as watermelons, pupils blown wide as she tried to take in all the sensations assaulting her. 

Jamie thought the buildings were the first shock she was trying to come to terms with. Her neck craned up to look at them, glancing nervously at their looming presence all around them. She’d seen Jamie’s house, of course, but that was nothing like the crowded buildings of the city. Her eyes glanced upward toward the sky— likely grounding herself with the one familiar aspect. Much to Jamie’s delight, she then glanced toward him, and peace flashed across her face. 

If Jamie’s nearness offered comfort akin to the sky, he could die happy. 

The buildings were quickly overshadowed by the disconcerting nature of the people around them. She shied toward him— her body pressing to his side like it was her refuge— every time another person passed, even if they were meters away. Some of the passersby gave her strange looks, apparently seeing her odd behavior (not to mention her attire) which completely unnerved Claire. In addition to never having interacted with another human save Jamie, she was used to being invisible to them. The puir wee thing trembled at his side, but bravely continued on. 

“Dinna fash, they’ll no’ harm ye,” Jamie reassured quietly. 

She gave him a wordless nod, lips pressed tightly together, and continued to meld herself to his side. She no longer stared like a deer in headlights at every person close by, but he could tell she still snuck wary glances at those who wandered near. 

As they continued to walk on the cobblestone street, passing by shop windows with elaborate decorations and advertisements, Claire’s anxiety gradually subsided. She began to sneak peeks at the shops as they passed, and Jamie smiled to himself. As the trepidation was replaced more by curiosity, she melted inch by inch. Soon, her death grip on his hand became one of simple connection. She would pause every once in a while to study a shop window, tugging on Jamie’s hand to get him to stop. 

He catered to her every whim, even when she wanted to stop and run her hands reverently over the bricks of one building for several minutes while he struggled to explain the basics of construction. 

During their (very slow) progress down the street, a broad smile gradually formed on those bonny pink lips. Her eyes now wide with intrigue, Claire was coming alive. 

It lightened his heart immensely to see her beginning to enjoy herself and overcome her apprehension. At first, he’d worried to himself that it would all be too much for her— that maybe he’d scare her away from the human world with this single traumatic experience. But that wasn’t the case, and his own anxiety had eased along with hers. He delighted in watching her explore the world with endearing enthusiasm. 

He was pulled to a stop once again as Claire peered into the window of an ice cream shop. 

“What is this place?” she asked in wonder. 

“Och, ‘tis a place where they make food— a special kind called ice cream that humans particularly enjoy.” Jamie was starting to get better at his explanations, trying to boil them down to the simplest things she would understand. (That was more difficult than he would have imagined, mind, because a usual explanation for ice cream would have included descriptors such as “dessert” and “sweet”, but Claire of course lacked the background knowledge for that to make any sense.)

She nodded at his words but didn’t tear her eyes away from the displays of colorful ice cream inside. A smile spread across his face as he watched her take it in, his heart swelling with affection yet again for his strange lass. 

“God, I wish ye ate. If this were a movie ye ken there’d be a grand scene where I take ye inside and ye’d experience ice cream for the first time, yer world lightin’ up the instant ye taste it,” he said to himself. 

She did tear her eyes away then, to give him a furrowed-brow look of bewilderment. 

“What?” 

Jamie laughed and shook his head. “Dinna mind me, Sassenach,” he dismissed with a chuckle. 

They continued on at their snail’s pace, but before long, Jamie was nearly hauled off his feet by Claire abruptly stopping in front of a trash can. 

“What’s this?” she inquired as she reached a hand toward the nearly overflowing bin. 

“Dinna touch it,” he pulled her back rather forcefully by their joined hands, and he felt bad when she instantly latched onto his side again, thinking it harmful because of his forceful response. Her fingers were clutching his shirt in a white-knuckled grip.  

“It’s no’ dangerous,” he quickly amended, “that’s jes’ what humans do with waste. Things that arena good any more or they dinna need.” 

“Why don’t they need all these things?” Claire asked in confusion, squinting her eyes at the contents. 

Jamie wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that. “Weel, did ye no’ have things that once served a purpose but then no longer did?” 

She peered up at him and gave a shake of her head. 

“The Earth provides what we need, and when we’re done, it returns to the earth to be used again.” 

“Aye, that’s a good way to live,” Jamie murmured. 

Claire still seemed disturbed by the trash as they began walking again, but she soon forgot all about it as more things caught her attention. A passing bicycle brought up a whole new conversation, and Jamie had to chuckle to himself imagining his graceful faerie bumbling around the pedals and clinging to the handlebars. Maybe someday… 

Finally— after taking more than three times the amount of time it would have taken the average person to go this short distance— they arrived at the wee thrift shop, tucked on the corner. 

Jamie knew the owner, a Mrs. Fitz, who was a very distant relative of his. Although to be fair, everyone in the highlands was practically related. As Jamie pushed open the door and led Claire inside, the little bell rang in welcome and Mrs. Fitz instantly popped up from behind a rack of clothes, her face shining with enthusiasm. 

“Och, Jamie, lad!” she exclaimed, “it’s sae good t’ see ye!” 

She clasped both her hands over her chest in delight and gave him a wide smile. The shopkeeper quickly bustled over to him, arms outstretched for a hug. But as he tried to withdraw his hand from Claire’s, she stubbornly refused to release him, so he was left giving Mrs. Fitz an odd, one-armed side hug. 

Drawing back, she seemed to notice Claire for the first time, and blinked at her for a second. 

“Ah, and who is this ye have wi’ ye?” she asked Jamie. She looked pointedly down at their clasped hands, up at Jamie, and then back at Claire. 

He looked on in amusement as Mrs. Fitz truly took in Claire’s appearance— the wee lass standing there in his huge jacket, sagging sweatpants, and feet clad in socks and sandals. Mrs. Fitz’ eyes seemed to bulge as she looked at her, and Jamie realized he’d better give an excuse before the shopkeeper combusted. 

“This is my… friend, Claire. She’s visitin’ but lost her luggage, and we need tae get her all new stuff. Could ye maybe help us out?” 

Mrs. Fitz’ agog morphed quickly into a motherly look of sympathy. 

“Ye puir thing, of course we’ll get ye everythin’ ye need.” 

She made toward Claire as if she was about to hug her and then lead her toward the racks, but Claire hastily took a step away, bumping into Jamie in the process. 

“No’ a hugger I see, no problem,” Mrs. Fitz said accommodatingly with hands raised. 

Instead, she simply turned on her heel and headed over toward the first rack in sight— jeans. 

Claire was quiet, looking around the room abstractedly and not paying the slightest bit of attention as Mrs. Fitz prattled on about the pants, speculating about Claire’s size and which might best suit her. Jamie was trying to answer the questions on her behalf, but was distracted by the look on Claire’s face, which had suddenly lit up as something caught her eye. 

For the first time the entire trip, she let go of Jamie’s hand. (The moment felt absurdly monumental, and he found himself feeling empty without the sensation of her hand clasped in his). He resisted the impulse to gape at her with an open mouth as she wandered across the room with rather astounding boldness. Then, he spotted exactly what it was that had caught her attention. 

A gauzy white dress hung on a display hanger, it’s hem fluttering just in the slightest from the air vent above it. 

“I like this,” she announced, halting Mrs. Fitz from her perusal of the jeans. 

“Och, a dress lass, are ye? Well I think that’d suit ye jes’ fine. Why dinna ye try it on while I grab some others I think might work for ye?” 

Jamie quickly thanked her and took Claire’s elbow, steering her in the direction of the dressing room. 

“Ye can change into it back here to be sure it fits,” Jamie murmured into her ear. 

In one fluid motion, he opened the curtain of the dressing room, shoved the dress into her arms, herded her inside, and then closed the curtain again. Every second Mrs. Fitz wasn’t studying her made it more likely they’d get through this without arousing too many questions. 

It took Claire a rather long time to change, he thought. Although she did have a lot of layers to peel off. While she was still inside the changing room, Mrs. Fitz returned and deposited an armful of dresses into Jamie’ lap, all in the same size as the one Claire had picked. 

The shopkeeper was just about to open her mouth to ask him something when the bell over the door rang and she scurried away to greet the other customer. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. 

It was then that the curtain flew open and Claire emerged, clad in her white dress. 

Jamie nearly had a stroke on the spot. 

She was divine. The white dress fit her perfectly, clinging to her curves down to her waist where it flared out into the draping of the skirt, the hem falling to just below her knees. A hint of cleavage teased at the neckline, skin creamy-white and looking oh-so soft. She swayed gently back and forth with a faint smile, and the gauzy material of the skirt flowed around her with the movement. It was as if the dress had been made for her. 

Under the bright lighting of the shop, Claire’s glow seemed muted to him, although certainly still there. It seemed to accentuate the perfection of the white dress and her dark hair that flowed down her shoulders in sharp contrast— giving her the air of an angel. 

Jamie was astounded. 

Unaware of how speechless she’d left him, Claire asked shyly, “do you like it?” 

He had to swallow three times before his dry throat was capable of answering her. 

“Ye look beautiful,” he forced out. 

She beamed, twirling around in excitement— which made the skirt billow up around her— and then suddenly she was launching herself at Jamie. Claire hugged him tightly, bare feet on tip-toes as she tried to reach up to be closer to him. 

“Thank you, Jamie,” she breathed warmly. 

He was ecstatic that something as simple as a new dress could make her this happy. 

Mrs. Fitz chose that exact moment to return, her footsteps pattering over and barging in on what Jamie considered a rather private moment. 

“Oh, my dear!” she exclaimed as Claire and Jamie parted, “ye look breathtakin.” 

Jamie couldn’t have agreed with her more. 

Claire flushed, eyelashes lowering demurely, and quietly thanked her. She had barely gotten the words out when Mrs. Fitz began shoving a couple pairs of shoes into her hands. Then, just like the whirlwind she was, Mrs. Fitz breezed off again. 

Jamie handed Claire another dress to try on and took all but one pair of the shoes from her. Then, he sat back down to wait. 

When Claire next emerged, she was wearing a black sundress with a floral design. Although the hem was above the knee, it wasn’t quite as form-fitting or astonishingly perfect for her (although he thought everything suited her, of course), so Jamie managed to better keep his composure this time. 

But the moment she turned around to show him the back, Jamie’s heart stopped beating and his blood ran cold in shock. 

He all but tackled her inside the dressing room, falling in after her and then frantically slamming the curtain closed. Once Claire was safely behind him in the privacy of the fitting room, Jamie peeked out a little to ensure no other customer had seen. 

Then, he very slowly turned back toward Claire, whose big honey eyes were staring up at him in question. 

He didn’t address her. Instead, very gently, he placed his hands on Claire’s shoulders and turned her so he could look at her back again. 

The sundress had a low back— a very low back— which exposed the two delicate appendages there.  

Wings. 

Transparent, beautifully fragile— wings. That laid perfectly flat against her back and shoulders. 

Jamie reached a finger out, mesmerized, to gently trace the outline of them. 

But the second he made contact with the edge of one, she let out a little squeal and jerked away. 

Jamie withdrew his hand as if he was burned, clutching it to his chest in shame. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldna have—” 

“It’s alright,” she said as she turned to face him, “I just wasn’t expecting… Is that why you shoved me in here? My wings?” 

Jamie blinked several times, trying to get his brain to catch up to the situation. 

Of course she had wings. She was a faerie after all. 

The sound of his name jerked him back to reality, and he realized he’d never answered her. 

“You have wings!” he exclaimed daftly, still failing to answer her question and merely staring at her, open-mouthed with astonishment. 

“Oh,” she said, glancing behind her at her back casually, as if checking to see they were still there, “of course I have wings. Purely decorative though, I’m afraid.” 

Jamie was still struck dumb, but he longed to look at them again. The dressing room was too small for him to be able to walk around her, so he simply reached out and turned her a second time. 

They were beautiful. Heartbreakingly delicate looking. He could see through them everywhere except where the veins laced through, like a butterfly’s wing. The edges curved gracefully up toward her shoulders, ending in a point. It took all his willpower to resist the urge to touch them again without permission. They laid flat against her back, and he wondered distantly if she could move them. 

As if sensing his curiosity, they suddenly fluttered back toward him— nearly hitting him in the face— and Jamie jolted backward with a surprised laugh. 

Claire shot him an amused look from over her shoulder, and fluttered them again in demonstration. 

“They’re… beautiful,” he breathed reverently. 

“Thanks,” she replied bashfully, “I always thought them dull, really. Some fae have much grander wings, mine are rather small.” 

Jamie couldn’t bear to hear any disparaging remarks aimed at the perfection that was Claire, and he made a Scottish sound of derision deep in his throat. 

“Everythin’ about ye is perfect,” he stated firmly. 

Her wings had settled back flat on her back by this point, and Claire turned around to face him, cheeks adorned with a becoming blush as she adjusted the straps of her sundress over her shoulders again. 

“Well…” Jamie said, eying her up and down, “as bonny as ye look in this dress, I’m afraid we canna buy it for fear of exposin’ ye to the world. Ye’re no’ exactly verra inconspicuous...” 

Claire bit her lip, perhaps embarrassed about forgetting that minor detail when she’d showed him outside. But he was quick to reassure her. 

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. No one saw ye earlier. Yer secret’s safe wi’ me.” 

He tried to give her a wink, which he was aware was a skill at which he was woefully inept, and she burst out laughing at his attempt. 

In that moment, he wanted more than anything to lean down and press his smile to hers. 

Before he could do anything foolish like act on the impulse, he quickly ducked out of the dressing room, eyes still fixed on Claire. 

He slipped backward through the slit at the edge of the curtain… and right into Mrs. Fitz. 

Stumbling away from her, he whirled around to find the shopkeeper with her hands on her hips, face red with admonishment. 

“James Fraser,” she uttered in a menacing voice that indicated he was in big trouble, “I understand that ye’re infatuated with yon lassie, but I canna believe that ye’d engage in— in— such depravity. In my shop!” 

Jamie fell back a step, hands raised defensively. 

“I wasna…” 

But Mrs. Fitz wasn’t having any of it. “I wilna condone such behavior, especially not in public when other customers are around. I’m appalled by your behavior, Jamie Fraser—” 

When she paused for breath in her tirade, face growing redder by the second, Jamie took the opportunity of the minute gap to jump in, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fitz, but I promise we werena doin’ anythin’ untoward. Listen, we’ll take the lot and be out of yer hair.” 

Jamie gestured frantically toward the pile of dresses and shoes, then reached into his pocket for his wallet. He produced a wad of cash and held it out toward Mrs. Fitz like a peace offering. 

She looked him up and down for a long moment, eying him and the money with narrowed eyes. Jamie thought for a second that he’d be taking Claire home empty handed, but then Mrs. Fitz reached out and snatched the cash from his hands. 

“I want you out,” she said curtly. 

Jamie nodded frantically and instinctively backed away a step. Without breaking wary eye contact with Mrs. Fitz, he called into Claire, “get dressed, a nighean, we’re leaving.” 

With that, Mrs. Fitz turned on her heel and stalked away, as if she couldn’t stand to be in the presence of such a depraved lecher for one more second. Jamie sighed to himself. All of Inverness would be hearing about this within the day… no way he could hide Claire from Jenny for long. 

A minute later, Claire emerged from the dressing room, clutching the jacket to her chest. 

“Jamie, what—?” She started to ask. 

But Jamie cut her off by simply taking her hand and tugging her toward the door, his other arm juggling their purchases (which of course he had no bag for since there was no way he’d push his luck asking for one). 

Once they were safely outside in the Scottish gloom, Jamie slowed down— realizing he had been dragging the puir lass nearly off her feet in his haste to be gone. 

“What—?” She tried to ask again. 

“Nothin’ tae fash about, a nighean,” Jamie assured her, “it was only a wee misunderstandin’ wi’ Mrs. Fitz. But hopefully these dresses will do.” 

Claire, bless her, tended to take Jamie at his word, and so she didn’t press him for any more details. Quite honestly, her trust in his dismissals of things was a breath of fresh air in contrast to his sister Jenny’s stifling desire to wring every last bit of information from him. He wondered distantly just how long Claire’s innocence on this front would last. But for now she was content to let him take the lead with all things human, and he was happy to take it. 

Jamie’s strides were still long and hurried as he brought Claire back toward the car. Thankfully, she was unresisting— she’d probably had enough exploring for one day. Although Jamie knew he hadn’t actually done anything wrong (save going in the dressing room with a fully clothed lass— because she had wings for pete’s sake!), he still felt like a young lad caught with his pants down around his ankles. He wanted to be away from the shop and the talk that surely would be following in their wake. 

The stream of thoughts that occupied Jamie’s brain was interrupted by Claire tripping and nearly toppling over onto the cobbles stones. 

“Woah, lass,” tumbled from Jamie’s mouth at the same time as the pile of clothes on his arm started to fall to the ground. 

With an impressive feat of juggling, he managed to pull Claire upright with one hand and only lose a couple dresses and one pair of shoes with the other. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, letting go of Jamie’s hand so she could stoop down and pick up the fallen items. When she straightened, she pulled at the legs of her sweatpants in frustrated illustration as she said, “I keep tripping over these.” 

“Weel, ye needna suffer them any longer, a nighean,” he laughed, and he lifted the shoulder holding the new clothes, “let’s find ye somewhere tae change.” 

The “somewhere” Jamie settled on was an old bookshop. It was right across the street, so Jamie simply herded his wee faerie inside, trying to make his armful of items look as discrete and nonchalant as possible. 

The bookstore was old and musty. Something about it had a feeling of another time, as if the world stopped the moment you stepped in. The bookshelves were crowded, with only narrow aisles between, and every one was stuffed to the brim with books. The lighting was rather dim, and Jamie had to squint his eyes a bit as he took it all in. Spotting the front desk, he brought Claire over to it. 

Attending the shop was a woman nearly the same age as Jamie, with long red hair that cascaded down her narrow shoulders and over a name tag that read “Geillis”. When she looked up at them, he saw that she had the most startling shade of green eyes. Almost like a cat’s, he thought distantly. Something about her prickled the tiny hairs on the back of Jamie’s neck. 

But she greeted them quite warmly. 

“Good day, how can I be assistin’ ye?” she asked with a bright smile. 

“We’re jes’ needin’ a place tae change, do ye have a loo?” 

The lass, Geillis, eyed him up and down for a long moment before her gaze flicked to Claire. To his astonishment, the lasses made steady eye contact for a long stretch of time, green meeting whisky, and then she suddenly broke it to smile politely at Jamie. 

“Of course,” she said, “we canna have yer hen paradin’ around Inverness in that outfit, can we? It’s on the far side.” She pointed helpfully in the direction. 

“Thank ye,” Jamie said, and quickly dragged Claire off. 

After seeing her inside the bathroom to change into her white dress and new shoes, Jamie took to perusing the shelves. All the books were old, likely this was a secondhand shop, and mostly titles he didn’t recognize. He became absorbed in the looking, though, so much so that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure appeared beside him. 

“Find anythin’ interesting?” Geillis asked. 

Jamie quickly composed himself after the fright, and answered, “eh… jes’ lookin’. Quite an assortment of titles ye have here.” 

He ran a finger over the spine of one of the books. 

“Quite,” she agreed, “I take pride in procuring the selection.” 

“Ye own the shop then?” Jamie asked. 

A nod in confirmation. “My name’s Geillis Duncan, nice tae meet ye,” she said, extending her hand. 

Jamie took it, shaking amicably, and replied, “James Fraser.” 

“It appears ye and yer lass have had quite the… adventure…?” She said with raised brows and a glint in her eye. 

“Oh, she’s not my—“ but Jamie cut himself off, finding that he didn’t have it in him to deny the thing he so desperately wanted. Instead, he finished lamely, “aye, we have.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what compelled him to admit it, but he suddenly added, “honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss.”  

At that moment, the door to the washroom opened, and Claire emerged, clad in her white dress. As she made her way toward them, a book was suddenly shoved into his hand. 

He looked down in surprise, and then up at Geillis. 

“This one is on me,” she whispered, drawing close to his ear, “read it carefully, fox.” 

Bewildered, he didn’t have any reply. And apparently he didn’t need one. Because he had glanced over at Claire, and when he looked back toward Geillis, she was gone. 

“Ready?” Claire asked as she reached him. 

Jamie shook himself out of his startlement at the shopkeeper's abrupt disappearance and gave Claire a smile. 

“Aye, lass.” 

Hand in hand again, they walked out of the shop, the book Geillis had given him still tucked under his arm. 

*

Next

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 8

AO3 // FFN

Adjusting

“Mum, I really don’t think all of this is necessary..” Hermione said the following day. Her parents had both taken the day off to spend time with them, and Jean had whisked her daughter away for lunch and an afternoon of shopping. 

“What? Being able to spend time with my daughter? When’s the last time we went shopping together? Hermione, dear, you are desperately in need of some new clothes! Plus, I want to help you find something special for your date tonight,” Mrs. Granger smiled knowingly.

Hermione sighed. Her mother was right. The clothes she did have were ragged from being on the run for almost a year, and it was nice to be able to spend time with her again. This was the kind of thing she’d hoped to do with her mother before sixth year started, when she thought she and Ron may be on the verge of something then. Speaking of…

“Mum, what did Ron say to you last night to change your mind about things?” she asked again, hoping she’d crack on the fourth try.

They’d been out much longer than Hermione had expected, which made her nervous, but when they’d returned, Ron looked relieved and Mum had a smile on her face. Hermione looked at her dad for help in gathering an explanation, but he simply shrugged. Even Ron was tight lipped about the exchange last night. That annoyed her, and subsequently cut into their ‘getting to know you’ time she was hoping for.

What Ron did admit was what her mother was planning for tomorrow evening. “She called to make a reservation at some posh seafood restaurant for us tomorrow evening.”

“All four of us?” Hermione asked for clarification.

“No, just you and me. She wants us to go on a proper date. Said something about checking the cinemas, too, whatever that means. Would you be alright to join me for dinner tomorrow evening, say, around 6:30?” he said with a chuckle.

“I’d be delighted,” Hermione played along. “But I’m not sure I have anything to wear,” she frowned.

“Right, I forgot that bit. Your mum’s planning to be here around eleven tomorrow to take you to lunch and shopping.”

Hermione smiled at the recollection as she browsed the current boutique they were in. They already had several bags between them of new clothes for Hermione. Several new shirts and jumpers, a couple pairs of jeans, trousers and skirts, and even new undergarments, which Hermione had been resistant towards at first. She was secretly happy, though because when she was ready to take that step with Ron, she wanted something cute or sexy and not just plain old boring cotton. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of wanting to be ‘sexy’ for someone. 

She’d even caved and allowed her Mum to purchase a new swimsuit. It felt like ages since Hermione had worn one, not since their trip to France all those summers ago, and it took several choices (of both her own and others her mum tossed over the dressing room door) before Hermione had decided on a bright blue two piece with white polka dots. The top was modest enough with a twist front that had string ties in the back, and the bottom was somewhat high waisted, which made her feel more comfortable. Her mum had also picked up a couple beach towels and insisted Hermione buy flip flops, or thongs, as the Aussies called them. 

“The weather is supposed to be beautiful tomorrow. You and Ron absolutely need to experience a beach day, so you’ll be prepared!” 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “Mum, are you trying to plan the rest of our stay here?”

“Of course not! I just want you both to experience everything we’ve grown to love about this little corner of the world. Plus, you both deserve a bit of a holiday after everything you’ve been through.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Hermione said, as she felt an overwhelming need to hug her mother right then and there.

Their last stop found Hermione the perfect dress for her date tonight. It was teal, and flowy with wide straps and a keyhole opening. A satin band gathered at the waist to provide some shape on her body, and the flowy skirt came to her mid thigh. It was the perfect balance of elegant, yet beachy, and her mum had found a wedge, peep toe sandal to finish off the look.

“Thank you again for all of this, Mum. Even after everything I did…”

“Hermione, you’ll always be our daughter, and I’ll always love you. I only want the best for you, and even though Ron’s made mistakes in my eyes, he’s certainly proved to me that he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, and I respect that.”

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve him.”

“It’s all about balance, my dear. Tell me, did you ever apologize to him about the canary incident?”

Hermione felt as though ice had been poured down her back at her mother’s words. She knew that she and Ron had gotten past the whole Lavender debacle, but thinking back on it, she realized that there never was an explicit apology for that.

“I- erm-” she stuttered.

“You really should. I raised you better than that.”

“You’re right. And I suppose I probably should apologize for attacking him when he came back as well..” she hesitantly admitted.

“Excuse me?” Her mother stopped on the sidewalk and looked at her. “I did not raise you to react with violence, young lady.”

“I know, I know! I just- I let my emotions get the best of me. I promise I’ll do better about keeping them in check.”

“I’m not the one you should be making that promise to, but I appreciate the intent.”

“You’re right.”

“Dare I ask what you did to that poor boy when he came back?”

“Umm, I used him as a punching bag, as Dad would say,” Hermione admitted.

“Oh, Hermione..I know you inherited my anger, but please don’t take it out on him like that.”

“I won’t. Not anymore.”

She knew it was wrong, and even though it wasn’t something she talked about often, she was ashamed of her actions. Pride and embarrassment had forced her to ignore bringing it up, but if they were going to start off their relationship properly, it needed to be discussed.

Hermione noticed her mum checking her watch. “We’ve got just enough time to get you cleaned up and ready for your date. I had your father bring a few items over to your flat when he went to pick up Ron.”

“Items? What do you mean?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Hair product and makeup, of course!”

“But-”

“No buts! We have an hour to get you ready before Ron’s due to pick you up.”

“He’s not already there?” Hermione was having trouble keeping up with her mum, both in walking speed and conversation.

“Heavens, no! It’s a proper date, remember? Now, let’s go!”

~o~

Ron was standing in the guest bedroom of the Granger’s home. He was looking in the wall mirror at his own reflection. His afternoon had been spent out with Hugo. He’d gotten a haircut at a local barber, found swim trunks for their ‘beach day’ tomorrow as Jean kept calling it, and an outfit for his date tonight. He was wearing a nice pair of trousers with camel colored dress shoes. His shirt was light blue with faint, thin pinstripe lines to give the illusion of texture. 

For the first time since Bill and Fleur’s wedding, he was proud of the way he looked. Mr. Granger had a knack for muggle style, and even though he was older, Ron trusted his judgement. He reminded himself of one of those business lads that flooded the sidewalks on the morning and evening commutes. He felt bad, and had tried to pay for the clothes himself, but Hugo had insisted. Mr. Granger had offered to purchase more for Ron when he caught him eyeing a new pair of trainers, and jeans that might actually fit his long legs, but Ron politely refused. 

“Ready to go?” Hugo called from the bottom of the stairs, drawing Ron out of his thoughts. 

He couldn’t wait to see Hermione. It’d been a long afternoon without her. Especially because he’d grown accustomed to being with her day in and day out. They made the short drive over to the flat, where Jean was waiting by the door. She held the door open for Ron as she wished them well for the night and reminded him of how to get to the restaurant, which was about five blocks away.

He watched them go and then bounded up the stairs. He was about to just walk into their shared flat, but paused and remembered that this was a date, so he knocked on the door. Ron barely had to wait for Hermione to open it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the sight of her in front of him made his jaw drop and he was pretty sure his heart stopped briefly. She was gorgeous. Her mum had no doubt helped her tame her wild curls, and it looked like she was wearing just enough makeup to accentuate her features. Not like the grams of it Lavender would plaster on her face every day. Her chocolate brown eyes were brought out by a light layer of deep purple, which were staring at him in much the same way he was looking at her, with adoration. And Merlin, that dress. She wasn’t one to wear dresses casually. Not that this was casual or anything, but he’d only really ever seen her in her school uniform or formal wear. He needed to say something to snap himself out of it before he lost his senses completely.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“And you cut your hair,” she responded. “It suits you. You look really nice in muggle clothes.” Hermione smiled shyly at him. 

Ron smiled back at him as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. Why did this feel so weird? This was Hermione, his best friend. “Should we, er, get going? We’ve got a bit of a walk.”

Hermione nodded as she grabbed her purse and locked up. Ron held out his hand and she took it as they made their way down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. They were quiet for a while, until Hermione finally said, “Is it just me, or does this feel…”

“Weird?�� Ron finished.

“Yes!” Hermione said through an exhale.

“Yeah...what’s wrong with us? We haven’t changed or anything,” Ron joked.

“I know,” Hermione said. He noticed her blush in the soft glow of the streetlight.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that- nevermind, it’s rubbish,” Hermione talked herself out of saying what she was thinking.

“No, tell me. Please?” Ron urged gently.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just worried I’m going to mess this up. I don’t want to do or say anything wrong,” she admitted.

“Me too,” Ron agreed. They walked another block or so, double checking street signs so they didn’t miss a turn.

“Do you think it’s like this for all couples who were friends first?” Hermione asked him.

“Er, yeah, could be. Never really thought about it, though.” Ron admitted.

“So, then, maybe we should just act like nothing’s really different. Let’s not put extra pressure on anything,” Hermione suggested.

Ron chuckled. “That works for me. I think this is it.” He pointed to a sign just up ahead.

They checked in at the hostess stand and were seated at a table on the edge of the main dining room. It felt more private than some of the other tables in the center of the room, and gave them a spectacular view of the ocean lit up by the moonlight.

As Ron began to look at the menu, he noticed the prices. It was expensive. They ordered their drinks from the server, and then they were alone again to look over the menu. 

“Er, Hermione,” Ron said, getting her attention. She peeked at him from over her menu. “I don’t know if I have enough to, er…”

He saw her eyebrows raise in understanding. “Don’t worry, Mum gave me her credit card. It’s taken care of.”

“But your parents have already done so much for us,” Ron protested. “And it’s our first, er second, date. I should pay..” That’s what a true gentleman did, wasn’t it?

“Please, it’s okay. They want to spoil us,” Hermione told him.

He sighed and gave in. It was either that or insist they leave, which could cause a scene and he didn’t want that either. “So then, what would you suggest for a meal?” he asked her, looking at the varieties of shellfish that he’d never had.

He ended up settling on a pasta dish that included a variety of seafood. Scallops, shrimp, and clams in a light wine and butter cream sauce. Hermione had chosen a salmon dish over risotto, and they’d split an appetizer of crab stuffed mushrooms. The meal was delicious, despite Hermione having to help guide him through eating so he wouldn’t accidentally consume any shells. 

They were browsing over the dessert menu as Hermione said, “Seafood always tastes better when it’s fresh, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure it does, not that I have much to compare it to. We’ll have to find a place when we’re back in England so I can see if there’s a difference.” 

His heart skipped a beat as he watched her face light up at his suggestion. “I’d like that.”

Their desserts came shortly after as they talked about what they wanted and needed to do when they got back to England. Ron had opted for a chocolate mousse cake, while Hermione chose creme brulee. She began picking at it about halfway through.

“Everything alright?” he asked her.

“Yes, of course! I’m just getting full, that’s all.” He could tell when she was lying because she didn’t make eye contact.

“Hermione…”

“I’m sorry about attacking you with the canaries sixth year,” she said through a grimace. “It was, um, brought to my attention that I never actually apologized about it.”

“That’s what was bothering you? It’s ancient history, Hermione, it’s fine.”

“See, you always say that, but it’s not. I can’t just physically hurt you when I’m angry at you. Like when I punched you after you came back to the hunt..”

“It’s...alright. I was a prat, too,” Ron tried to make her feel better.

“Yes, but you’ve never physically hurt me. I promise I won’t do that ever again. I’ll keep my emotions in check.” She met his eyes this time, indicating her sincerity.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ron smiled. “Now, can we discuss something a bit more light hearted?” He suggested.

Hermione smiled gratefully as she took another bite of her dessert. “Did you want to go to the cinemas?” She checked her watch. “If we hurry, the one Mum suggested starts in twenty minutes just down the street.”

“I don’t know. As much as I’d like to experience it, I think I’d rather take a walk on the beach if you wanted to.”

“I like that idea so much better,” Hermione smiled. “Mum will forgive me for not following her plan completely, I’m sure. Besides, I’m sure some movie will be playing on the telly when we get back.”

“Brilliant!”

After they paid for their meal, they exited the restaurant and crossed the street to one of the many public entrances to the beach. They chose to walk along the water where the sand was a bit harder, and headed in the direction of their temporary flat. Hand in hand, they meandered along.

“The waves are so much calmer here than at Shell Cottage,” Ron remarked.

“That’s because the weather is much nicer. Every body of water can be rough and choppy or smooth with gentle waves,” Hermione explained.

He knew that, of course, but sometimes he loved to listen to her explain things. It had become a sort of comfort to him years ago. He just pretended it annoyed him to get under her skin. “Do you know how many times I hoped that we could experience something like this, but was convinced we’d be dead by the end?” he asked softly.

“I know. We nearly were...several times,” Hermione said.

“How’d we make it out? How’d we get so lucky. We shouldn't have..” Ron had to catch himself before he went into a spiral as he was reminded of who they’d lost. Fred, in particular.

“Don’t think like that,” Hermione said gently as she squeezed his hand. “We are still here, and you know he would want us to make the most of that.”

She somehow always knew what to say when it counted the most. Ron felt a rush of emotion flood over him. He loved her so much. His feet stopped right there, and he pulled Hermione back when she kept walking and was caught by her fully extended arm, their fingers still intertwined together. “You’re right. And I’m the luckiest bloke alive to have this chance with you.”

The setting was perfect. Sand beneath their feet, the moon and stars shining down on them, creating a soft glow of light, and the gentle crashing of waves close by. He pulled her close to him, bending down to kiss her. Ron felt her arms snake around his waist, while his own split duties. One hand cupped her face while the other snaked in her hair. 

He deepened the kiss and allowed himself to forget they were on the beach as he became lost in her. All he could feel was her, as he hesitantly grazed her bottom lip with his tongue. She opened her mouth further, granting him entry, as his tongue gently moved in and explored her mouth. She eagerly met his tongue with her own as Ron’s hands began to move down her body. 

He wanted more. Not that he wanted to rush things, but he was so overcome with want that it was hard to think straight. It took a car horn blaring from the streets to draw them back into reality. They reluctantly broke apart as he sought her eyes with his own.

“I think we should get back to the flat,” Hermione said breathily.

Ron simply nodded, not trusting his voice. They’d have plenty of time on the beach tomorrow.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 8

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 8 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 8/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

“Take a punt,” the Doctor told Clara. He was doing some sort of math on one of his chalkboards while Clara sat down near the console.

“Right,” Clara said.

“Your choice. Wherever, whenever, anywhere in time and space.”

“Well, there is something, someone that I've always wanted to meet. But I know what you'll say.”

“Try me.”

“You'll say he's made up, that there is no such thing.”

“Go on.”

“It's…it's Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood.”

Clara walked up the steps towards the Doctor. “Yeah. I love that story. I've always loved it, ever since I was little.”

“Robin Hood, the heroic outlaw, who robs from the rich and gives to the poor.”

“Yeah.”

“He's made up. There's no such thing.”

“Ah, you see?”

The Doctor pulled a book off his bookcase. “Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned story books, Clara.” He thumbed through a few of the pages before setting the book back in its place.

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You stop bad things happening every minute of every day. That sounds pretty heroic to me.”

“Just passing the time. Hey, what about Mars?”

“What?!”

“The Ice Warrior Hives.”

“After what happened on that submarine? I don’t think so,” Elise told him. She wanted to forget that adventure. She still had nightmares.

“You said it was my choice,” Clara argued.

“Or the Tumescent Arrows of the Half-Light. Those girls can hold their drink,” the Doctor rambled.

“Doctor.”

“And fracture fifteen different levels of reality simultaneously. I think I've got a Polaroid somewhere.” The Doctor came down the stairs towards the console with Clara following him.

“Doctor! My choice. Robin Hood. Show me.”

“Very well.” He put in coordinates and set the TARDIS in flight. “Earth. England. Sherwood Forest. 1190AD. Ish. But you'll only be disappointed.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You can’t wear a black dress! You’re not going to a funeral!” Clara told Elise. Clara wanted to look the part and dragged Elise along with her. Clara looked through the dresses and pulled out a green one.

“It’s perfect! It’ll go great with your hair.” She shoved the dress into Elise’s arms. “Well go on, get dressed.”

Elise changed into the medieval style dress. It felt wrong not to be in her leather jacket and boots, but she had to admit that she looked rather good.

“Might have to cover that though,” Clara said pointing at the roses winding down Elise’s neck. She’d still yet to understand why she had the tattoo in the first place.

Clara managed to cover it up with some heavy concealer.

The two women stepped out of the TARDIS.

“Might be a little bit much, but what do you reckon, Doctor?” Clara asked. She stopped when she saw him. Robin Hood.

“By all the saints. Are there any more in there?” Robin Hood asked.

The Doctor noticed how Robin’s eyes lingered on Elise and he moved slightly in front of her.

Clara patted the Doctor’s chest in disbelief. “Is that…?” Clara asked.

“No,” the Doctor told her.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God! It is, isn't it? You found him. You actually found Robin Hood.”

“That is not Robin Hood.”

“Well then, who, sir, is about to relieve you of your magic box?” Robin asked, pulling out his long sword.

Elise nearly rushed forward, but the Doctor pushed her back. He stepped onto the bridge, facing Robin. “Nobody, sir. Not in this universe or the next.”

“Well then, draw your sword and prove your words.”

“I have no sword. I don't need a sword.” The Doctor opened his coat and twirled around to show Robin. “Because I am the Doctor.” Instead, he donned a gauntlet and pulled out a spoon. “And this is my spoon. En garde!”

They started sparring and Clara and Elise watched on in excitement.

The Doctor got the upper hand and hit Robin on the back of the neck with his spoon.

“You're amazing,” Clara praised the Doctor.

Even Elise had to admit the Doctor was rather dashing.

“I've had some experience. Richard the Lionheart. Cyrano de Bergerac. Errol Flynn. He had the most enormous…”

Clara cleared her throat, cutting off the inappropriate comment.

“…Ego.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Robin lunged forward and sliced a button off the Doctor’s coat. The Doctor held his arms out and Robin got ready to strike the killing blow. The Doctor dodged this attack and spun around so he and Robin were back to back. He bumped Robin and Robin fell into the river below.

“Doctor!” Clara said, rushing to his side.

The Doctor polished his spoon on his coat. “Like I said. My box.”

“Doctor?”

Robin was nowhere to be seen in the water below. He popped up behind the Doctor and pushed him into the water.

Clara and Robin laughed.

Elise rolled her eyes and waded into the water. She helped the Doctor up and asked, “Are you okay?”

“More of a bruised ego than anything.”

“I’ll fix your coat later.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Robin led them to a small encampment. “Let me introduce you to my men. This is Will Scarlet. He is a cheeky rogue with a good sword arm and a slippery tongue.”

“My ladies…”

Clara giggled and looked at Elise, who had no reaction.

To this day, the only man to ever make Elise blush was the man in the café after they met Clara the second time.

The Doctor pulled out some of his hair as he bowed and scanned it with his sonic screwdriver.

Will cried out and grabbed at his head. “What do you want with my hair?”

“Well, it's realistic, I'll give you that,” the Doctor told him.

“And this is Friar Tuck. Aptly named for the amount of grub he tucks into,” Robin introduced.

“You skinny blaggard.”

The men around them laughed.

Friar Tuck stepped forward and nearly fell.

The Doctor was on the ground behind him.

“What are you doing?” Tuck asked him.

The Doctor stood up, holding one of his sandals. “This isn't a real sandal.”

“Yes, it is.”

The Doctor sniffed the sandal. “Oh. Yes, it is.”

Robin turned to introduce another one of his men. “This, er, is Alan-a-Dale. He's a master of the lute, whose music brightens up these dark days.”

“Stranger you are welcome here, in Sherwood's bonny glade,” Alan sang. He suddenly cried out as the Doctor stuck him with a needle.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. Blood analysis. Oh. All those diseases. If you were real, you'd be dead in six months,” the Doctor told him.

“I am real,” Alan insisted.

“Bye.”

The last of Robin’s men was huge.

“And this is John Little. Called Little John. He's my loyal companion in many an adventure.”

The large man stepped aside and a smaller man jumped out at them. The men laughed.

“Works every time,” Will said.

“Oh, I cannot believe this. You, you really are Robin Hood and his Merry Men!” Clara giggled.

“Aye! That is an apt description. What say you, lads?” Robin asked.

His men laughed in response. “Stop laughing. Why are you always doing that? Are you all simple or something?”

Elise was beginning to become annoyed as well, while Clara looked to be enjoying herself.

The Doctor picked up a goblet and poured out the liquid before walking up to Robin. “I’m going to need a sample.”

“Of what?” Robin asked.

Clara quickly pulled the Doctor away from them. “What are you doing?”

“Well, they're not holograms, that much is obvious. Could be a theme park from the future. Or we might be inside a miniscope,” the Doctor told her.

“Oh, shut up.”

“A miniscope. Yes, of course. Why not?”

The Doctor ran over to the encampment, leaving Clara and Elise.

Robin walked to them. “Your friend seems not quite of the real world,” Robin observed.

“No. No, he's not really. Not most of the time.” Clara looked at Robin. “Dark days?”

“My lady?”

“You said that these were dark days. What did you mean?”

“King Richard is away on crusade, my lady. His tyrant of a brother rules instead,” Will explained.

“And the Sheriff. Cos there is a sheriff, right?”

“Aye. It is indeed this jackal of the princes who seeks to oppress us forever more,” Alan said.

“Or six months in your case,” the Doctor quipped.

Robin spoke in a soft voice. “It is a shame to dwell on murky thoughts when there is such beauty here,” Robin said.

Elise felt like she was intruding, so she simply squeezed Clara’s hand and joined her father instead. She glanced back at Clara and Robin talking softly with each other and she felt a pang in her hearts.

The Doctor saw the look on Elise’s face and walked over to Robin. “What time is it, Mister Hood?”

“Somewhat after noon.”

“No, no. Time of year? What season?”

“Oh, Dame Autumn has draped her mellow skirts about the forest, Doctor. The time of mists and harvest approaches.”

Elise frowned. That didn’t seem right.

“Yeah, yeah. All very poetic. But it's very green hereabouts, though, isn't it? Like I said, very sunny.”

“So?” Clara asked.

“Have you been to Nottingham?”

“Climate change?”

“It's 1190.”

“You must excuse me. The Sheriff has issued a proclamation and tomorrow there is to be a contest to find the best archer in the land. And the bounty, it's an arrow made of pure gold,” Robin said.

“No! Don't, don't go. It's a trap,” Clara begged him.

“Well, of course it is! But a contest to find the best archer in the land? There is no contest.”

The men laughed.

“Right, that isn't even funny. That was bantering. I am totally against bantering,” the Doctor snapped.

“How can you be so sure he is not the real thing?” Clara asked.

“Because he can't be.”

“When did you stop believing in everything?”

“When did you start believing in impossible heroes?”

“Don't you know? In a way, it's rather sweet.” Clara joined Robin and his men, while Elise stood next to him.

He looked into her green eyes and saw…was it hope? He was going to show her he could be the Doctor again. That he could be the heroic man she knew him to be.

[harrypotterthehufflepuff]

Fool

This was requested by: @oingo223

Request: If you want to, could you write a Fred Weasly imagine based off of the song "Fool for Love" by Lord Huron.  Also I love your writing and appreciate what you do!  And if you don't want to write this that is totally okay, and if you do then thank you so much!

~ ~ ~ ~ 

This was Amazing to do! I used the lyrics as dialogue .I hope it turned out as you wanted. I decided to write the reader as in first person and then explain what happened to Fred. And I hope that’s okay even though I’m pretty sure that’s not really how it works BUT WHATEVER, just enjoyyy <3

I highlited the parts where I’m using the lyrics.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Warnings: swearing, blood, fighting.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word Count: 2.2 k

If you’d like to request something please head over to my other blog, https://ronaldandremuslover.tumblr.com/ and I’ll try and fix it for you !

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Once again, my phone had blown up by tumblr sending me countless of notifications that there has been an error. I hope by reposting this it will work. I also got a message from someone who said that they could not read below the keep Reading, which is obviously unfortunate. Gahh, I hope this will make it work. Thank you.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

'It's going to be alright. Everything is going to turn out splendid', Fred thought to himself. He shook his head in an attempt to get his hair out of his eyes. He stood on the same mountain you had shared your very first kiss and it was very windy all the way up at the top of the mountain. It didn't help that it was winter either. It was supposed to snow today.

I've got this. I know she's gonna be my wife.

A very soft pop came from behind him. 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

The world had stopped spinning around you and you landed gracefully on the spot. Tall, crispy grass that reached up to your knees were swaying around you in the wind that made the waves of the ocean forceful. The smell of saltwater was evident and sand underneath your feet was sneaking into your sandals. 

Only a couple of feet away you noticed the same red hair that you had so many times played with your hands. So many times you had smelled the wonderful smell of freshness. He was grinning, as per usual. But he did look rather nervous.

"Hello, Fred." Drawing nearer to him, you noticed he was wearing, what you remembered as, his most formal shirt. 

"Hi, lovely." 

You had already gotten a bad feeling from this. Your current boyfriend wasn't that happy with you seeing your ex. And Fred knew that the pet name 'lovely' was your favourite.

Rascal.  

You pushed your hair behind your ear in an attempt to stop it getting in your face. The ocean beneath you was a deep blue and was glittering in the sunlight, making it appear as small crystals were floating around the surface. 

It was very beautiful.

He was looking at you with those big, beautiful eyes that had once been the reason that you became attracted to him. But you were not allowed to think like that anymore. That wasn't fair to Jim, who had loved and cherished you for almost a year now. No, that wasn't fair.

"You said that you wanted to talk, Fred." The ocean was loud and the wind didn't help with making your voice distinct.

His smile got even bigger, it almost looked painful. "Yeah, I did say that." 

The way that he reached into his pocket made your breath catch. 

The way he got pulled out a small rectangular box made your hands shake.

The way he got down to one knee made your eyes shine with tears.

"Y/N, I know, believe me when I say that I know, that things have not been easy. But I also know that we, you and I, together, can make things a little bit easier," 

His eyes had also started to shine and had even gotten red,

"Because that's us. We always find a way to make things easier. Together. Together we make things better. We belong together, Y/N. And I know that you know that just as much as I do," 

He opened the small box in his hand. Inside was a ring with a small, white diamond. It was glittering in the sunlight and you could tell that Fred was shaking by the way that the ring was bouncing.

"So, therefore I ask you to become my wife. Will you marry me, Y/N?"

At this point, your cheeks were wet with tears and your vision blurry. Your hands were clapped over your mouth as if it would drench out the sobs that were escaping. 

Was this it? Was this the moment where you got engaged? Do you even love Fred anymore? Didn't you make it clear that if he walked through that door in your apartment, that you two were over? 

Your hands fell from your face, shaking. "Fred- I- This is- What?" 

"I'm asking you to marry me. To live with me." His voice was strained from trying to keep back his tears.

This was not it. This was not the moment where you got engaged. You do not love Fred anymore. You had made it more than clear that of he stormed off, he could not come running back to you.

No, this wasn't fair to anyone.

"No." The word rolled off your tongue as it had been the easiest decision in your life.

He looked dumbfounded, lost, heartbroken. It was like you could hear everything crumbling inside of him. 

But he just stood up straight and looked at you through his eyelashes that were clumped together by tears, "No?" 

"No." You echoed. "My answer is no, Fred. This, (you waved your arms at him) Is ridiculous! What were you thinking?"

Your sudden outburst had taken him by such surprise that he stumbled backwards a few steps. 

"I was thinking that we belong together. We always have!" The way he tried to keep his voice calm and collected made your temper rise. Everything was not calm and nothing had ever been more out of control.

What was happening?

"You know that I'm already in a relationship!" You cried, your hands curled up into fists.

Fred snorted and crossed his arms tightly around his chest, "You mean that sad excuse for a man? Big Jim?"

"At least he hasn't walked out on me! He hasn't left me in the middle of a room, crying to the point where my eyes stung!" 

He went silent.

Your remark had affected him because now he was letting his tears flow down his pale, freckled cheeks. 

At one point in your life, you had once laid in be with him and been trying to count all of them. 

At one point.

At last, Fred said, "You know, I bet he's not so tough."

"Oh yeah?" You said, growling.

"Yeah, I hear he's this massive ol' chap with big muscles and everything, but I've also heard people talking about him, not very nice words. He seems to have a lot of ladies 'round town that wooes whenever he's around, eh?"

You scowled at him, "Jealous?" 

Fred laughed, but not the usual sweet and charming laughter. This was the annoyed and fake one. "Y/N, you're a smart girl. You know you don't love him."

His voice had now moved on from the annoyed tone to a quiet and pleading one. 

It broke your heart.

"Fred, please. This is not right. I need to go." 

He made a go to grab your hand but you quickly recoiled. It wouldn't do you any good to make physical contact with him. It would only bring back memories. Memories of you caressing his cheek or him hugging you from behind...

Stop!

"Tell me you don't love me." He said, "Look into my eyes and say to me, 'Fred, I don't love you anymore."

You couldn't. You couldn't tell him that. It wasn't okay to lie. 

Instead, you backed away and just as you were about to turn around to apparate, you gave him one last apologetic, watery smile.

~ ~ ~ ~

Fred knew that Jim worked in a very popular bar. That's why he had precisely chosen this bar to have a drink- or not.

He opened the doors and stepped inside. It was incredibly warm and people were seated close together. Mostly men were seated around the bar. And the women who walked around seemed to work at the place. 

Fred glanced around the bar in hopes of seeing an incredibly tall man. He had never seen Jim in person before, but when a man got out from a door that led to somewhere behind the bar and even had to duck as he got out from the door, Fred knew that that was the man he was looking for.

He puffed out his chest and pulled back his shoulders and headed towards the overgrown man. 

Once he had pushed enough people out of the way to get to the front of the bar he managed to get a good look at the man. He looked like a nice guy despite his height and uncommonly broad chest.

Dammit.

"What'd you fancy?" 

Fred had been too busy inspecting him that he hadn't even noticed that he had asked him a question.

But instead of telling him what drink he'd fancy, he simply said, "I come for to find Big Jim, well, here I am and I guess you’re him."

Jim looked around, clearly confused. He looked back at Fred, his dark brown eyes looked almost like black. "Yeah, I'm him. Now would you like a drink or not?" 

The red-headed man just grinned at him, mockingly. "I see how you got your name, you're tall as hell and broad as a train."

Jim, who had looked rather calm, had started to get an impatient look on his face. His nostrils flaring, "Yeah, right." He said as he had been told that many times before, "If you don't want a drink the get out. I don't have time for this shi-"

"Have you spoken to Y/N today?" Fred interrupted.

Jim's face turned blank for a split second but was quickly replaced with a doubtful expression. "D'you know her?"

He rolled his eyes, "No, only her name. Yes, I do know her."

"Do I know you?" 

"No, you haven't slept with me." 

The tall man standing behind the bar had let go of the glass he had been holding. He stared at Fred as though he had just said something unforgivable. "Who are you, you red-headed knob?"

Fred leaned onto the bar to get closer to him, "I'm Fred. Nice to meet you, Big Jim."

"Hold it, you're Fred? Y/N's..."

"Y/N's ex-boyfriend, yeah." He smirked at him as if daring him to lay a hand on him. "You know after all the talk I've heard, I expected you to be more... buff. You know... A little bit... good looking." 

The barman was about to say something when Fred continued, "After all, they say you’re a hard-worn man." He narrowed his eyes at him, hoping to provoke something within him, "The baddest guy in the whole wide land."

But Jim merely blinked at him. "I don't have time for you shit. Piss off." 

Jim was much taller than him. He towered over him to the point where Fred had to tilt his head to properly look at him. But he wasn't backing down. Not now.

The second Fred had stepped into this crowded bar, he knew what he was going to do. He still did. And he was determined to fulfil his duty. And so he jumped over the bar when Jim had turned around. The sound had clearly made Big Jim turn to face Fred. And when he did, Fred struck. He punched him square in the face. 

"Well, I'm not afraid to fight, let's step outside and I'll show you why."

Fred goaded hastily before Jim would hit him back and jumped over the bar and ran for the door. He heard Jim run behind him, he could feel him breathing down his neck. 

As soon as he had flung the door open with his entire body, a big hand had gripped the back of his jacket and pulled him backwards. He was spun around to face the man he had just punched. A black bruise was already forming around his eye.

Ha-ha.

For a hot second, Fred's vision blackened and his nose became incredibly hot. But after seconds of realizing what had happened, he had regained his balance and had only just stumbled backwards. 

He was not going to fall. 

"You know, you don't hit half bad," Jim said, his voice steady but his eyes flashing over every part of Fred's body as if he was looking for potential places to punch and kick, "Oh, but I'm gonna lay you to ground tonight." 

Before Fred had blinked Jim was running towards him, his hand ready strike him in the gut. 

He landed on his back, the snow melting and seeping in through the jacket and plaided shirt. He couldn't help but whimper as the afterpain hit him. Jim was just as strong as he looked, if not stronger.

The broad-chested man snorted and smirked down at him on the ground, "Pretty pathetic, aren't you?" He said before giving a last kick to his stomach again.

"Just wait until I catch my breath!" Fred gasped as Jim staggered over triumphantly to the door, "Gonna send you on to an early death..." 

Bollocks.

He only noticed that his nose was bleeding when he spotted a red liquid in the pearly white snow. He defeatedly rolled over onto his back, relieving the pain in his stomach. 

It felt as if his body was turning against him. But,' No, I’m not afraid to die, I’m just mad I left Big Jim alive'  was all he could think. He had failed.

He stared into the endless sky and wondered when everything had turned to absolute dragon dung. 

If he could turn back time to change his decision to leave you alone in the dark room, he would in an instant. But he can't. It was too late.

He closed his eyes and heaved a great sigh, 

'I really don’t know where I’m goin' He thought to himself.

Nice one, Freddie.

'I know I should have never looked back, Shit, why can't I ever just do the right thing?' The thought occurred to him.

I was born to lose 'cause I’m a fool for love, that's just me, he thought.

[bisexualpirateheart]

'fight me, you attractive stranger' with silverflint or maxanne??

                           Don’t Play When It Comes to My Heart

                                                (Maxanne)

 The woman was watching her again. Anne could feel it all the way across the room. It was maybe the fourth time she’d seen her in here. It was hard to miss her to be honest. There were other women in the bar, sure, but something about her kept drawing Anne’s attention.

Anne had tried to both ignore it as well as figure out what it was. She couldn’t pinpoint it. There was just something about her. She was just a woman sitting at the bar, sipping one of those drinks with a little umbrella in it, and talking to the bartender from time to time. Her curly hair was loose over her shoulders and she wore one of those little crop tops that Anne openly scoffed at, and secretly loved the look of. It suited this woman perfectly, the dark blue of the material bringing out the golden hue of her skin.

Her jean shorts ended mid-thigh and once she had gotten up to the bathroom and Anne’s eyes had followed her without meaning to, watching the way she moved in them. When she’d come back, she’d walked past the table Anne was at, and Anne had shifted her gaze to the floor. The woman wore black sandals that tied delicately around her ankle and her toenails were painted a light blushing pink shade.

Anne kept looking at her out of the corner of her eye. She’d always thought she was confident, pretty sure of herself, She knew she could take most men in a fight, she could hold her liquor. All of that, she was fine with. But the way this woman held herself, the way she walked, comfortable in her own skin simply by moving through the room. Anne had no idea what that was like.

Finally Anne turned her head away and went back to what she had been doing. The man seated in front of her, one of Vane’s buddies, she didn’t remember his name, grinned at her. Like he thought he was gonna win this thing. Anne smiled back at him, sharp and sweet, like a fox letting the hunter get a little closer before the bite.

“Let’s do this, sweetheart.”

Over his shoulder she could see Jack and Vane grinning at her. Anne rolled her eyes and put her arm up. It wasn’t her business if Vane liked setting his men up so she could knock them down. Teaching them a lesson about not to get too cocky. Never assume a victory.

It was easy to beat his ass and Anne enjoyed doing it. She’d always liked this part. She liked the look in their eyes when they realized they were going to beat by a skinny little bitch as she knew that’s how they saw her. That would teach them too, whether they liked it or not.

When his arm slumped down in defeat, there was a whoop from Jack and Vane just laughed.

Anne sat back, just smirking and drinking her beer as the guy got up, grumbling about being cheated somehow as he went.

“Hey.”

Anne looked up, flushed with victory to see the attractive woman standing in front of her, holding her drink.

“Yeah?” Anne kept it curt, not wanting to be drawn into a conversation with her. She had no idea what to talk about with her.

The woman just smiled and sat down in the spot vacated by the defeated guy. She took a sip of beer and set it down. “Come on then, fight me you attractive stranger.”

Her voice was a low purr that sent warmth sliding all over Anne’s body, all the way down to her toes, making them curl slightly in her boots.

She gave a sharp shrug of her shoulders, and put her arm back up. “All right then.”

“I’m Max.” The woman offered, like knowing her name meant anything to Anne.

“Anne.” Anne told her reluctantly.

Max leaned in and their hands gripped each other. Anne felt a shiver of something slippery and undefinable slide between her shoulder blades. Max’s hand was warm in hers. It shouldn’t have felt intimate, like they were doing something private here in the middle of the room surrounded by people, but all the same it felt exactly like that.

She gripped harder, sweating, not wanting to give an inch, not wanting to let this woman beat her for some reason she didn’t even understand. Max muttered something under her breath and gave a little grunt. She put up a good fight but slowly her arm gave way and Anne slammed it down on the table with a howl of triumph.

To her surprise Max just grinned at her when Anne looked up at her. “Fuck, you’re good at that.”

“Had a lot of practice.” Anne reached for her beer and took a swig. She felt self-conscious sitting here with Max, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up and move away yet. Her hand still throbbed from clasping Max’s. She wished it would stop.

Max brushed a piece of her hair back behind her ear. “Well, that was fun.”

Anne was tongue-tied, not sure where this was going. It was fun, but she wasn’t sure they were on the same page as to why. Beating Max wasn’t like beating the guys. It was different. She didn’t want to think too much about why it was, it just was. She took another sip of beer, not really looking at Max.

Max waited but still Anne said nothing and then finally, Max gave a little shrug. “I suppose I should be going then.”

“Cheers, yeah.” Anne mumbled, focusing on her beer, still not wanting to look up at her again. Her shoulders felt tight and her face felt hot and she didn’t want to be here anymore even though it wasn’t that late.

She watched Max through her hair as Max returned to the bar. The bartender said something and Max gave that shrug again, slipping onto her stool. The bartender poured her another drink, and then for a moment, Anne could have sworn the blonde woman glanced in her direction, but she turned her attention back to Max.

Anne finished her beer and went over to the table where Jack was, playing cards. She touched his shoulder. “Think I’m gonna head back.”

He looked up at her in concern. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need some air.”

He gave her a nod. “See you at home.”

“See you.”

She went without looking back over at the bar though she knew Max watching her from her seat at the bar, just like she had been when Anne had first gotten there.  

Anne walked home through the late summer night smelling the jasmine in the air. The slight rain from earlier made everything humid and warm, but she liked it. It made her think of the warmth Max seemed to stir in her, no matter how much Anne tried to deny it.

Max wasn’t like the women she was usually drawn to. There had been a few others over the years but none like this. None like Max.

So far she hadn’t really done anything about it. It hadn’t been necessary. But this. Anne didn’t know what to do with this, the way that she kept looking for Max when she walked into the bar now. How she was disappointed when Max wasn’t there now, even if it made it easier if she wasn’t.

How it felt to have Max’s hand in hers. Anne touched her the center of her palm with her fingertips, feeling a trace of that warmth from before.

                                                   *   *   *

She reached the flat and went up the stairs to their floor. She locked the door behind her but left the chain off. Jack would stumble in later. For now she was relieved to be alone.

Anne undressed in the bedroom, tossing her t-shirt and jeans in the laundry basket in the corner. She grabbed her sleep t-shirt and pulled it on before going into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Her reflection caught her eye and she gazed back at herself, wondering what Max saw when she looked at Anne.

She crawled into bed and pulled the sheet up to her knees.  The darkness was soft and warm though she had left the window open earlier in the hopes that the room would cool off. She liked this room, liked this flat. She liked living here with Jack. But at the same time, tonight it felt a little stifling. Like there was more out there, but she had to make a move if she wanted to experience it.

When Jack came in, she was still awake. She listened to him undressing in the dark, humming a little tune under his breath. When he was in his boxers and t-shirt, he crawled in beside her. Anne turned and moved close, burying her face in his shoulder. Jack draped his arm around her shoulder, murmuring soft words into her hair. Finally she could sleep.

                                                        *  *  *

It was Friday night the next time Anne went back to the bar. She’d gotten out of it the last few times, with the excuse of working late but that wouldn’t work forever. And besides…it was her bar, her spot. She couldn’t avoid going there just because of the way Max looked at her.

Max was there when she walked in though and Anne turned quickly to their regular booth. Jack was chatting with someone but moved over to make room for her as she slid in beside him.

She glanced to the bar.

“How about another round?” Jack asked, sliding his empty glass towards her.

“I just got here.”

“So how about a first round?” He made a face at her and she grabbed the glass without responding.

She went up to the bar a few feet away from Max and put the order in.

“Evening.”

Anne turned her head to see Max gazing at her. She gave a nod.

“How about it?” Max asked. “You up for another challenge?”

Anne shrugged. “All right.” She moved closer and started to put her arm up on the bar.

Max just shook her head. “Not wrestling this time.”

The way she said wrestling conjured up a promise of something else, something that sent heat flushing Anne’s cheeks and made her sweat a little between her breasts.

“What then?”

Max jerked her head towards the stage.

“What, no.” Anne had done karaoke there but she usually only did it under duress for Jack and usually she was drunk.

“I dare you.” Max’s eyes glinted as she challenged her. She didn’t think Anne would do it.

The bartender set Anne’s beers in front of her and she took them without answering Max. She made her way over to the booth and set Jack’s beer down. He took it without looking up at her. She took a sip of her own and looked back over her shoulder.

Max leaned against the bar, resting her elbows on it as she waited to see what Anne would do.

Anne took another sip of her beer and set it down, suddenly making up her mind. She could do this.  

“Anne?” Now Jack looked at her.

“I’ll be back.”

She felt Jack watching her as she followed Max across the room to the stage but she didn’t look back.

Max smiled at her over the microphone. “I’ll do the first part, and you take the second, okay?”

“Fine.” Anne gripped the mic, trying not to worry over what song Max would pick.

She closed her eyes when she heard the first beats of the song starting. Fuck you, she wanted to say, but when she opened her eyes, and looked straight at Max, she couldn’t get the words out.

Anne felt like she couldn’t breathe as Max sang right at her, the words dripping over her skin like honey. It was so unfair that Max was singing Maroon 5 at her like this. Singing about spending time together, making things right, needing more time, about Max needing a girl like her. It wasn’t true, was it? How could Max want that?

Anne took a deep breath and started singing the Cardi B verse. She felt Max’s surprise that Anne not only knew the words but could actually sing. She saw the surprise turn to delight in Max’s eyes and felt that familiar rush of heat again.

                                                     *   *  *

Afterwards they sat on barstools half facing each other as they ordered another round of drinks. Anne was painfully aware of how close Max was. Of the way her tanktop hugged her body, the way her slim thighs in her capris braced casually on the barstool. Her hair was pulled back tonight, but those few curls kept escaping her hair tie. Anne wanted to touch them with her fingertips so much they ached with it.

“I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.” Max said frankly, eyes skating over Anne’s black AC/DC -t-shirt.

Anne shrugged. “I know pop songs. I just prefer rock.”

They talked about music then and concerts and it was easier than Anne thought even if occasionally it still felt like she didn’t know what she was doing.

It was getting later and she felt a hint of panic at the thought of Max leaving and having to start all over again the next time. She knew she didn’t want the night to end even if she wasn’t sure how it was supposed to go from here.

“Would you like to come back to mine, have another drink?” She asked finally.

Max looked faintly surprised, but the wide smile that blossomed upon her lips made any fears Anne have about not being interested disappear.

“Let me just go to the washroom and grab my stuff, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll be outside.” She couldn’t see Jack anywhere which meant he was probably having a smoke.

Anne found him outside, scrolling through his phone. “There you are, darling.”

“Is it alright if you crash at Charles’s tonight?” she asked, hating to ask but desperately needing him to agree to this.

He gave her a look. “Something happening that I should know about?”

“Max and me….” She paused, trying to think about how to say it. “She’s coming home with me.”

“I see.” He was quiet for a moment and then just nodded. “Of course I can sleep at Charles’s.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across her forehead. “And you have my blessing.”

“Didn’t ask for it.” Anne muttered but all the same she was glad to hear him say it. It was the first time either of them had brought someone else home since their relationship had shifted into its current status. She’d always kinda thought Jack would be the first to do so, and yet here they were.

“Yet all the same you have it.” Jack grinned. “Have fun tonight.” He ground his cigarette butt into the pavement, gave her a little salute and headed back inside.

 Max came out, a small purse over her shoulder.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

They fell into step together and Anne’s nerves returned. Her palms felt sweaty as she walked, her chest felt too tight. What if she was making a mistake?

                                                 *  *  *

Once they reached the flat it was easier and harder all the same time. She was comfortable here, but she’d never brought a woman home before. She’d never…

“You live here. With Jack?” Max looked around with interest.

“Yeah.” Anne went into the kitchen and got a bottle of wine. When she came back Max was sitting cross-legged on the sofa.

She poured them each a glass and set the bottle on the coffee table before sitting on the other end of the sofa.

“We’re mates.” She said, knowing she needed to offer some kind of explanation for Jack and her, but not really wanting to get into it. “I mean, we used to…but now we don’t.”

“I understand.” Max reached for a glass and took a sip before looking at her.

Anne took a breath, licked her lips. “I’ve never done this before.”

It felt like cowardice, admitting it, but she knew it was better to get it out in the open so Max wouldn’t get her hopes up and be disappointed when it wasn’t any good.

Max cocked her head, looking at her. “This…” And then she got it. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Anne shifted a little on the sofa. She took a sip of wine. “If that’s a problem for you.”

“It’s not a problem for me.” Max said softly. She reached over and set her wine on the table, and then she reached for Anne’s glass and set it down as well.

Then she turned, half kneeling on the sofa as she looked at Anne. “I am honored to be with you tonight.”

Anne felt heat rush to her cheeks. She licked her lips again and then before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in.

The first touch of Max’s lips against hers nearly made her head swim. Max’s lips were so soft, Anne felt as thought she would drown in them.

They sank down on the sofa, still kissing, Max’s hand on her waist. Somehow Anne was bold enough to touch Max’s shoulder. Max’s skin was warm under her touch. She let her fingertips trail down over Max’s shoulder to the curve of her arm.

Max’s fingers pressed into her hip and Anne gave a little moan.

She drew back slightly, looking at Max.

Max wetted her lips, gazing back at her, waiting for Anne to speak.

She wasn’t pushing this, even though she looked as hungry for it as Anne felt. It gave Anne courage. “Should we go in there?” Anne asked, nodding towards the bedroom.

Max nodded.

Anne led the way self-conscious again, though her lips stung from Max’s kisses and her entire body was humming.

She started getting undressed quickly, watching Max do the same out of the corner of her eye.

She straightened up, letting her hair fall over her breasts as she stood there. Max smiled and held out her hand. It was Anne’s bedroom but Max led the way over to the bed and drew her down beside her. Her breasts swayed as she moved and Anne was mesmerized by the sight. She wanted to drink in the sight of Max. She wanted to touch her everywhere yet she didn’t dare.

Max leaned in to kiss her again and Anne followed, leaning back against her pillows, letting Max lean over her. She hated not being the one in control but her uncertainty made her too nervous to try. It was easier to let Max touch her, and every time Max did, the way her fingertips brushed over Anne’s collarbone, the way she caressed Anne’s breasts, the way her fingers fit into the curve of Anne’s hips, every time Anne thought, ‘Now I know how. I can do that. I can do this,’ as though she were learning a foreign language for the first time. Every touch felt wondrously new and yet familiar at the same time, restoring her confidence.

Max settled between Anne’s legs. “Is this all right?” The question was warm on Anne’s thigh.

“Yeah.” Anne’s voice sounded thick to her own ears. She could hardly breathe as Max lowered her head.

The first brush of her tongue over Anne’s clit made her tremble all over. She wasn’t even close to coming but having Max do that alone felt so unbelievably good she thought she would die from it. Max licked her slowly, gently, taking her time until Anne felt brave enough to reach down and touch her hair.

“More.” She whispered, the word sounding like a rasp of a prayer on her tongue. “Please, Max.”

There was a light in Max’s eyes at the way Anne said her name, and she leaned up to press a kiss to Anne’s lips before ducking down between her legs again.

Anne cried out as Max touched her, sucking at her clit, her fingers stroking Anne’s folds until they slipped inside her. She lost track of everything then, caught up in the pleasure of Max touching her. Max’s body moving over hers. She came in a flood of wonder, feeling it ripple over her body.

Max leaned up to kiss her and Anne gasped at tasting herself on Max’s tongue. She cupped Max’s face, kissing her again and again as Max straddled her hips, pressing against Anne’s mound.

Max started moving and Anne moaned, the pressure building inside her again.

Max pressed against her, her breath coming faster and faster. Anne cupped her breasts, just staring at her, amazed that she was doing this with Max and then she felt a rush of warmth against her mound and Max cried out softly. She leaned down against Anne’s chest, panting slightly. Her hair had slipped loose and Anne threaded her fingers through it as she let her arms go around Max’s back, holding her there. She never wanted to move.

                                                 *  *  *

In the morning though Anne woke first to find Max still asleep beside her. She was curled up next to Anne, her breasts pressing against Anne’s side. Anne lay there for a moment, just looking at her. And then she felt panicked at the thought of Max waking up and wanting to talk. Anne couldn’t talk about this yet. She just couldn’t.

She slipped out of bed and grabbed her clothes before sneaking out of her own bedroom like a thief. She dressed hurriedly in the bathroom before starting to leave. She paused at the door. She couldn’t go without saying something. She knew that at least.

At last she tore a scrap of paper off Jack’s sketchpad by the desk and wrote. “Sorry to go. Early shift. A.” she left it sitting on the kitchen table and went out the door.

The trouble was Anne didn’t have an early shift at the shop she worked at. She didn’t start until this afternoon. So she bummed around the shops for a while before getting a coffee and going to the local park.

She settled on a bench and stared moodily at the kids playing on the playground. She should have stayed. She knew that. But the thought of Max saying, ‘Well, that was nice,’ and then leaving it there was too awful to contemplate. But if she imagined Max wanting more…Anne was stumped.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Jack pushed his sunglasses up on his nose as he settled on the bench next to her.

Anne shrugged. “Thought I’d get a coffee before work.”

“Your shift doesn’t start till 3 and we have a perfectly good coffee machine at home that works fine.” Jack squinted at her. “Want to tell me why you’re avoiding the lovely lady I found in our bedroom this morning?”

“You didn’t talk to her?” Anne stared at him.

“I gallantly offered her some coffee and she declined before getting dressed and departing.” Jack waited. “Last night went….well, I take it?”

“It was….” Anne hesitated. It felt weird to be saying to this to Jack, but he was still her best friend. “Really really good.” She felt a little flushed saying it, and quickly took a sip of coffee.

“I see.” Jack said, which made it sound as though he didn’t. “What seems to be the problem then?”

“I don’t know what she’s doing with me!” Anne burst out. “She’s beautiful and smart and confident, and I don’t know….”

“Oh Anne.” Jack said softly. He put his arm around her. “This is something the two of you are going to have to talk over. But for what it’s worth, she’s very lucky if you’re interested in her.”

“I don’t know about that.” Anne muttered into his shirt. “Have you seen her?”

“There is nothing to compare there.” Jack gave her shoulder a little shake. “There is only what you see in each other, what you find with each other. All right?”

Anne took a deep breath and released it. “Yeah, all right.”

“Now let’s go home and I’ll make us some breakfast.” Jack squeezed her shoulder and got up.

                                                  *  *  *

That night Anne went home after work instead of going to the bar. She lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if Max was there, hoping she was coming. She wondered what Max thought of her since she had just left that morning like that.

She turned her head, pressing her face into the pillow. It smelled like Max.

“Fuck.” Anne growled into the pillow.

She sat up and ran her hands through hair. She thought about changing her t-shirt but then decided not to. Instead she just grabbed her phone and keys and headed for the bar.

                                                *  *  *

Max stood there on the stage, crooning an old Prince song. Anne leaned against the bar, just watching her. She couldn’t imagine Max being too bold, but not being satisfied, that she got. That she understood all too well.

The song ended and there was a rush of applause. Max gave a little bow and then she caught of Anne and she smiled.

Hopping down from the stage she came over to where Anne was.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Max smiled. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come tonight.”

“Yeah, about last night.” Anne took a breath. “I’m sorry about this morning, I mean. I just…” She stopped, made herself go slow. “I liked having you there. It was just a bit…much all of a sudden. You know what I mean?”

She crossed her fingers behind her back, in a childish hope that Max understood her. That she knew that Anne wanted this and wanted her, and that was just going to take time.

“We can go slow.” Max said quietly. Slowly she touched Anne’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently before letting go again. “If you like.”

Anne stood there, and then she reached for Max’s hand again, holding it more firmly in her own. “I’d like that.”

She smiled at Max and then with a burst of confidence, she led Max by the hand over to the booth where Jack was.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” She said to both of them. “I mean, I know you met this morning, but properly now.”

“Jack.” Jack drawled, leaning out of the booth to offer his hand.

“Max.” Max shook it, smiling at him.

Jack looked at them. “Now would you two like to guard the booth while I get us a round of drinks?”

“Yeah, all right.” Anne moved aside so he could get up. His hand brushed her side for a moment and then he was gone, away to the bar.

They settled into the booth and Max’s knee pressed against Anne’s. She felt a flicker of contentment as they sat there together, listening to one of Vane’s gang butcher “Show Me the Way” over on the stage.

Anne grinned to herself, and she knew even before she turned to  Max, that Max would be smiling too.

[endlessflame]

Waves of Trouble (Slater x MC, Adam x MC, NSFW)

Summary: Before leaving the mansion after the go-kart accident, the AME contestants play strip poker, and Randi gives in to temptation.

Rating: MA/NSFW

Author’s note: Finally, my first AME fic is finished! It’s longer than most of my fics (over 3,000 words), so I guess I have another excuse other than life getting in the way. It takes place between chapters 10 and 11 of America’s Most Eligible, Book 2.

Tags: @cora-nova​ @mfackenthal​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​ @desiree-0816​ @ritachacha​ @lizeboredom​ @boneandfur​

Randi reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured herself another drink. She was still feeling shaken after witnessing Eden and Kiana's accident. They could have been killed in the crash. The go-karts had actually gone up in flames. Thankfully, they were alive when they were pulled out of the wreckage, but they were in the hospital, and she didn't know how seriously they had been injured. Filming had been suspended, and everyone would be leaving the mansion tomorrow.

She held up the bottle. "Anyone else want some?"

"Sure." Adam held out his glass, and she poured him another drink.

"Pass that over here when you're done," said Slater.

Randi handed him the bottle. "I guess we're all in the mood to drink. Maybe it'll help get our minds off everything."

"Or we could try something else." Vince took out a deck of cards. "If they send us home, no one wins any money. But one of us could win tonight. Let's play poker."

Mackenzie glared at Vince. "You want us to risk our own money? Hell no."

"We don't have to play for money," Slater smirked. "How about we play strip poker? Nothing to lose but the clothes on our backs."

Although Randi was involved with Adam, she couldn't help finding Slater attractive. On the snorkeling date, she snuck off with him to explore the island. She'd told herself that it could be to her advantage to get to know him better, but when they kissed, she had to admit that had just been an excuse. After they were partnered with each other, they had gotten even closer. After they danced together at the prom, she couldn't control her desire for him any longer, and they got a hotel room and slept together. Adam would be so hurt if he knew. She had feelings for both of them, but Slater had never given her any indication that he wanted anything serious. He seemed to just want to be friends with benefits, but Adam wanted more than that. Her choice should be easy. Still, she couldn't resist the thought of getting another look at Slater's hot body. She grinned at him. "I'm in."

Adam's eyes widened. "Seriously, Randi? You want Slater and Vince looking at you?"

"They'll only be looking at me if I lose. Besides, if you've got it, flaunt it!" She had been the flirt last season, after all. And it wasn't like Slater hadn't already seen it all anyway. Not that Adam knew that, of course.

Adam shook his head.  "This is a bad idea."

"You chicken?" Vince laughed. "You don't want everyone to see how small your dick is?"

"Screw you," Adam replied. "I'm in too."

"We probably shouldn't do this right here in the living room," Derek pointed out. "We don't need anyone walking in on us. Let's go out to the balcony."

Mackenzie picked up the whiskey bottle. "We'd better bring this too. Actually, we may need more."

After getting more alcohol, they walked out to the balcony. They lit candles, poured more drinks, and made themselves comfortable.

"This needs to be fair. No cheating." Mackenzie glared at Vince and Slater. "We should start off with pretty much the same amount of clothes on. No unnecessary extras."

"Yeah, Adam, take that jacket off!" ordered Vince.

Adam removed his jacket, then looked to Vince. "Give the cards to someone else. You're not dealing. I don't trust you."

"Fine." Vince passed the deck of cards to Slater.

Adam glared at Vince. "Oh, come on, he's no better!"

Randi reached out to Adam and gently touched his arm. "It's OK, we'll all take a turn."

Slater began to shuffle the cards. "We'll play five card draw, jokers wild."

After the cards had been dealt, Randi looked at hers: two of clubs, five of hearts, seven of diamonds, ten of clubs, and jack of hearts. Nothing at all. She decided to replace the lower two cards. After taking two new cards from Slater, she saw that he had given her the four of spades and the seven of spades.

A pair of sevens was better than nothing, but it wasn't enough to win the round. Slater held out his cards, revealing the king of hearts, the king of spades, and a joker. "Three of a kind. Take 'em off!"

Mackenzie picked up a cushion and hit Slater with it. "You cheater!"

Slater glared at her. "You have any proof?"

"Yeah, the cards. You expect us to believe the first hand you got was that good, when you were the one dealing?"

Randi picked up the bottle of whiskey and handed it to Mackenzie. "Here, have another drink. Don't worry, he won't be dealing all night. Nothing too exciting is coming off this round anyway." She took off one of her sandals, then stuck out her foot. "Unless someone has a foot fetish!"

"You have very nice feet," Adam told her. "Although I wouldn't say they're my favorite part of your body."

"Aww, thanks." Randi leaned closer to Adam and rubbed his arm.

As they continued playing, more clothes came off. Randi and Mackenzie were down to their bras and underpants. Adam, Derek, and Vince were shirtless. After discarding three cards, Randi had a pair of fours.

"Two pairs!" Vince grinned as he showed his hand: a pair of sixes and a pair of jacks. He looked at Randi and Mackenzie. "Lose those bras, girls!"

"Shit!" Mackenzie drained her glass of whiskey, then reached for the bottle to refill it.

Slater pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Randi glanced in his direction, her eyes roaming over his body. Finally his clothes were coming off too. Slater's eyes met hers, catching her checking him out. Randi reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, then took it off and flung it across the balcony. Slater lowered his gaze, taking in the sight of her newly exposed breasts.

"Nice tits, Randi!" shouted Vince, ruining the moment.

"Shut up, you asshole!" yelled Adam. He took off his jeans and threw them at Vince, hitting him in the head.

Vince shoved the pants aside. "What's your problem? I gave her a compliment!"

"Don't be a dick," said Derek, tossing his own pants at Vince.

"Enough already!" Vince threw Derek's pants back at him.

While they were arguing, Mackenzie reached for her drink one more time, then removed her bra, taking advantage of the distraction so that Vince wouldn't focus on her while she undressed.

Derek gathered up the cards, then shuffled them and dealt everyone a hand. With four people in nothing but their underwear, at least three of them would be getting naked this round. After exchanging cards, they revealed their hands.

Slater held out his cards. "Two tens!"

"Not good enough!" Adam held out three fives. "Three of a kind!"

"Guess these are coming off!" Slater pulled off his shorts and flung them in Randi's direction. They sailed over her head and landed behind her.

"I've got nothing." Vince unzipped his jeans and slid out of them.

"Same," said Derek. "Time to get naked!" He yanked off his boxers, baring it all.

Adam turned to Randi. "You have a good hand, right?"

Randi shook her head. "Nothing."

Mackenzie frowned. "Me too."

Vince cheered. "Panties off, girls!"

"Shut the fuck up, Vince!" Adam snarled.

"Rules are rules!" Randi slipped off her underpants and spun them around on her finger, sending them flying across the balcony. Mackenzie wriggled out of her underwear as inconspicuously as possible while Randi was the center of attention.

Randi could feel Slater's eyes on her. She opened her legs a little wider to give him a better look at her pussy. Slater grinned and licked his lips. Images of their night together flashed into Randi's mind: Slater's head between her legs, devouring her like a starving man. The heat within her burned just thinking about it.

Adam stared daggers at Slater. "Watch it! She's mine!"

Randi picked up the cards, shuffled them, and dealt them to Adam, Slater, and Vince. "Come on, guys. We still have one more round."

After exchanging their cards, Randi looked at the three men in their underwear. "Moment of truth, guys. Show us what you've got."

"Pair of threes," said Slater.

"Nothing." Adam set his cards down.

"Two aces!" Vince smirked. "Strip, losers!"

When Slater removed his boxers, Randi could see that she wasn't the only one who had been getting excited. But her focus shifted when Adam and Vince began arguing.

"Come on, take them off! Afraid we'll see how small you are?"

Adam stepped out of his underwear. "I'm not small! I bet I'm bigger than you!"

"Yeah, Vince probably has a micropenis!" shouted Mackenzie.

Randi laughed. "He's probably small even when he's hard."

"You think you're funny, Randi? Well, I've got the last laugh, since I've got my boxers on, but I've seen all of you!" Vince leered at her.

"Go ahead and look. You're just seeing what you'll never touch. I'll never be that desperate." Randi looked down at Vince's crotch. "I probably couldn't find it even if I wanted to. That's how small you are."

"He has no balls, either," added Mackenzie.

Randi looked at Adam, Slater, and Derek. "You're all bigger than Vince, that's for sure."

"Bullshit!" Vince pulled down his boxers. "See, I'm not small!"

"OK, I'll give you that," Randi said as she looked at his cock. "But you're very average."

"Definitely," said Mackenzie. "I'm not impressed."

"Well, I know how to use it! But you'll never find out. Your loss!" Vince grabbed his clothes and stormed off.

"In your dreams!" Randi yelled as Vince walked away. She refilled her glass, then held up the bottle of whiskey. "Who wants more?"

"I'm going to bed," Mackenzie replied as she got dressed.

"Good idea. I think we've all had enough for tonight." Adam took the bottle of whiskey away from Randi. "Haven't you had enough to drink already? And put your clothes on!"

"Gotta find them first!" Randi giggled.

As he put his clothes on, Adam glanced at Slater, then turned back to Randi. "You know he's getting off on looking at you."

"Can I help it that I'm hot?"

"You can cover up!" Adam picked up Randi's shirt and handed it to her. "Put that on."

Randi tossed the shirt aside. "Don't tell me what to do!"

"Fine!" Adam walked off, and Derek followed.

"You OK?" Mackenzie asked.

"Yeah. Go on, go to bed."

Soon Randi was left alone with Slater. "Hey, want to go for a swim in the ocean?"

"Sure, but give me this first." He reached for her drink and took it away.

Randi pouted. "You're telling me not to drink too?"

"No, I'm telling you to share. If we bring this on the beach, it might spill, and that's a waste of good whiskey." Slater lifted the glass to his lips and took a large gulp, then handed it back. "Here, finish up, then let's go."

They made their way down to the beach. Randi grabbed Slater's hand and ran towards the ocean. As they reached the shoreline, he pulled ahead of her. "Ready to get wet?"

"Oh, yeah!" Well, wetter, anyway. She had already started to get wet before going anywhere near the water.

They waded into the water until they were submerged almost up to their waists. Slater turned around and watched the waves rolling in. "I wish I had my surfboard with me."

"Did you ever surf naked?" Randi asked.

"Occasionally. That's called 'hang eleven.' Bet you can guess why," he smirked.

"Yeah, it's not hard. Or is it?"

Slater laughed. "Not if the water's cold."

Randi began to swim further out. "We could bodysurf. Teach me how."

"It's dark, and we've been drinking. So we can't really bodysurf. It wouldn't be safe, especially since we're alone." Slater swam out after Randi. "How about we just catch the waves as they come in?"

As the waves rolled in, Randi and Slater drifted along with them, until a larger one knocked Randi completely underwater. Slater grabbed her and pulled her upright, holding her close.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Thanks." She looked into his eyes, and then his lips were on hers. As he deepened the kiss, she rubbed his back, feeling his toned muscles. Their bodies pressed together, and she could feel the hardness between his legs.

The temptation was too great to resist. She moved her hands lower and squeezed his firm butt. Her nipples hardened as Slater caressed her breasts. She shouldn't want him this much, and yet she did. When she grasped his hard cock, there was no doubt that he wanted her too.

Slater pulled her thighs apart and vigorously massaged her pussy, then lifted up her thighs. As Randi wrapped her legs around Slater, he thrust himself inside her. Randi cried out at the sensation. Damn it, he felt so good. She moved her hips rapidly, wanting him deeper inside.

"That's it. Ride my cock!" Slater called out. And Randi was more than happy to obey, keeping up with him as he increased his pace. She could feel the waves rolling in, crashing over their bodies as they moved against each other. The water splashed around them as Slater kept thrusting.

Randi could feel that she was close. She rode the waves of passion until they crested and broke through her whole body. "Oh God, Slater!" she cried out, clutching onto him tightly.

With one final thrust, Slater spilled himself into her. He pulled her hair as he groaned loudly. Once he had finished, he lifted her off him and set her down.

"Wow. That was incredible," said Randi.

"Yeah, I had fun," Slater replied. "But now that we've worked up a sweat, it's time to cool off." He stepped back a little and splashed her.

"Hey!" Randi splashed him back in retaliation. They swam for a little longer, then got out of the water.

Randi wrung some of the water out of her long hair. "Wonder where we'll be going tomorrow."

"We'll know soon enough." Slater began walking back towards the mansion.

They returned to the balcony and picked up their clothes, then walked inside, dripping water all over the mansion floor. They walked up the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. They didn't need the showrunners finding them naked and wet in the middle of the night, especially after such a horrible day on set yesterday.

As they approached their rooms, Slater turned to Randi. "I'm sure will get back to filming eventually. And I'll beat your ass in the next challenge." He pinched her butt. "Nice as it is."

"Good night, Slater."

Her feet were covered with sand, so Randi headed for the shower. As she rinsed away the sand and sea salt, she thought about what had happened between her and Slater. Now that she'd fucked him twice, there was no doubt that he was good in bed. But he'd never given her any indication that he wanted something serious. Adam, on the other hand, definitely had real feelings for her. And she cared about him too. After winning last season, she had taken him with her on her trip to Paris, and it had been so romantic. She had been happy to reconnect with him this season, but had also felt an immediate attraction to Slater. Still, she wasn't ready to throw away everything that she and Adam had just for a hot fling. Adam knew she was a flirt, and she had been drinking. Although he had gotten angry, some of that anger was directed at Vince.

Randi put on a silk robe, then knocked on Adam's door. If she didn't talk this out with him, she might not get any sleep. It was late enough already; she didn't need insomnia keeping her up.

The door opened, and Adam stood before her in his boxers, his eyes half open. "Randi?"

"Sorry to wake you. Can we talk?"

"Sure." He closed the door behind her, and they sat down on his bed.

"You're probably still mad at me. I'm sorry. I just wanted to relax, have some fun. After the accident, I needed it. But I didn't mean to hurt you." Randi was glad that he didn't know the full extent of what she had done to hurt him.

"Thanks. I got jealous, seeing everyone looking at you." He put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I want to be the only one that sees you that way."

Randi cringed. If he only knew. Not knowing what to say, instead she responded by leaning in and kissing him. His grip tightened around her, and he deepened the kiss.

Adam untied the strings of her robe and slipped it off her. He began kissing his way down her body. As he reached her breasts, he took a nipple into his mouth. Randi pulled off his boxers and began stroking his cock, feeling it harden at her touch.

Adam pushed her down on the bed, and he kissed her stomach. Realizing where he was headed, Randi panicked. The ocean water and the shower probably weren't enough to wash away everything that Slater had left behind. If Adam tasted him on her, all hell would break loose.

"I can't wait. I need you now." Randi rolled him over and straddled him. She sank down onto his hard cock and began moving up and down. Adam reached up, playing with her bouncing breasts as she rode him.

"Oh, you're so wet," moaned Adam.

Although Randi was feeling aroused, she suspected the wetness wasn't all hers, and a wave of guilt washed over her again. She could never let Adam know what she had done. She began moving faster, trying to focus on the physical sensations and wipe the thoughts from her mind.

Adam gripped her hips and groaned loudly as he came inside her. Randi rolled off him, and Adam reached between her legs. He rubbed her clit until she followed him over the edge.

Afterward, she kissed him gently. "We should get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

She reached for her robe, put it on, and walked out of Adam's room. Once she was back in her own room, she got into bed. Before long, she had fallen asleep.

[jeonminhao]

Best Regards, Jeon Jungkook

BTS JEON JUNGKOOK | 2.5K WORDS  |  FLUFF

Rating : PG-15  | Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Neigbor AU!   “You really didn’t hate Jeon Jungkook, the resident graphic designer with – as Seokjin had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. You really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting.”

A/N. I’m trying to write again so here goes nothing! Let me know what you think! Find me on AO3 :D

You didn’t hate your neighbor, really. You barely knew the guy! Your landlord only told you his name was Jungkook and that he was a graphic designer. “Maybe you knew each other!” Seokjin, your overly optimistic borderline dopey landlord had said when you mentioned you were a music producer. That was not how it works, but you couldn’t really destroy your landlord’s excitement, so you replied him with a smile. You didn’t think you’ve even met the guy when you first moved in aside from the note slipped under your door telling you to stop making loud noises at night. It would have been fine if it weren’t for the fact that he took the time to doodles dying stick figures on one corner with one stick figure clanging cymbals on the other corner (you might have ended up replying with a very bad doodle and an equally passive-aggressive note but that was not the point).

You really didn’t hate Jeon Jungkook, the resident graphic designer with – as Seokjin had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. Min Yoongi, the resident grumpy cat lady who happened to be your cousin, had also told you the same thing, although with a very much more interesting choice of words (“the dumbass who loves Iron Man a little too much and looked like a muscly rabbit” Yoongi said as he helped you unload some boxes). But then again, you’ve spent most of your life with Yoongi and you knew the guy never said anything nice to anyone except for his cats. Hell, he even told you, his favorite cousin, that you looked like 'the hairball his cat hacked up’ when you fought off some bullies who made fun of him.

“He’s not that bad.” Jimin, the beautiful dancer who lived two floors above yours commented the other day. He had accidentally listened to Yoongi’s very creative opinions on Jungkook. “Kinda dumb when it comes to girls, but a very decent guy. You look like you can get along with him.”

“Excuse me, are you implying I’m kinda dumb too?” You asked.

Jimin only flashed you a grin as he sauntered off and it reminded you of Yoongi’s cat that would always try to claw your face whenever you came too close to it.

“Come to think of it, you are similar in some ways,” Hoseok, your best friend, commented offhandedly as he picked up another box. “You have that look on your face.”

“What? Beauty?”

“It’s more of a perpetually confused look. But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

(You chucked your sandal at his head at his comment.)

So yes, you really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting.

“Do you want me to buy you a headphone? :(“

“It’s amazing how you and Yoongi and Hoseok are friends for so long! I wouldn’t have survived it.”

And more intricate doodles of what you thought was you screaming while the other stick figures cried in the corner.

.

Jeon Jungkook was a little shit and you didn’t know why everyone thought you’d get along with him. You, as the mature adult that you were, decided to play loud music that night only for Jungkook to slip more notes and stupid passive-aggressive doodle at midnight. The exchange went on for the next three months. Which was why you were now lying on Yoongi’s couch, asking him for more revenge ideas. You had played most of the songs on your favorite playlist, to the ones you hated. And you had collected a pile of post-it notes with doodles and weird notes that you were sure were filled with more passive aggressive messages and insults.

“He’s a little shit, Yoongi.” You groaned.

“You have one more thing in common then,” Yoongi replied.

“I am not!”

“Didn’t you try to make better brownies for our neighbors, Namjoon last week?” You opened your mouth to retort, only for Yoongi to cut you off, “and both of you ended up sending tons of food to our poor neighbors by the end of the week.”

“He started it.” You grumbled.

You should have known better. You should have left the apartment when you realized Yoongi was silent for a good minute before his lips curled into the most obnoxious smile you have ever seen.

“[Y/N]…” he started with a manic grin. “Do… do you have a crush on Jeon Jungkook?”

“I DO NOT!”

You definitely did not have a crush on your tall, cute neighbor of yours that always tried to get on your nerve. And the heat on your cheeks was definitely because of the hot weather. Nothing to do with how Yoongi kept staring at you with that stupid grin or the thought of Steve that popped into your mind.

.

“Hey, [Y/N].” You jumped at the voice and quickly turned around to face Jungkook standing by his door with his eyebrows raised. His lips quirked into a smirk at how wide-eyed you were.

“Jungkook.” You nodded, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Hey, can you play those cute songs you blast the other day? I kinda like it.” Wait, what?

“Do you not have iTunes, Jungkook? You know you can buy the tracks online, right?”

“It’s free.” He shrugged. “I’ll draw you some doodles if you want.”

You gawked at him. Jungkook, bless his heart, had the decency to look a little sheepish for a mere second before he went back to his annoying self.

“Don’t forget to play the songs!” He grinned before he entered his apartment, leaving you gaping at his door in confusion and shock.

.

“Were you trying to flirt with her?” Taehyung asked the moment Jungkook closed the door behind him.

“Uh…”

“Cause that’s so pathetic.” Taehyung snorted, ignoring how red his best friend’s face had become. “Man, I told you to be all cute and romantic and you decided that sending weird notes and doodles are romantic?”

Jungkook groaned and buried his face in the couch while his best friend watched him from the kitchen, clearly used to his antics. “Wh-ami-sup-to—do!”

“Well, you could start by actually talking to her and not acting like a kid. She’s pretty nice once you get to know her.” Jungkook quickly turned to Taehyung, his eyes wide.

“You’ve talked to her?!”

“She gave me some brownies, which, in my opinion, taste better than yours.” Taehyung shrugged, sipping his coffee while he enjoyed the sight of Jungkook flailing on the couch, mumbling more incoherent words. “I can’t believe you have a crush on your neighbor and your first idea is to tell her she played her music too loud.”

Jungkook was about to reply when he heard it. The bubbly pop music she had played the other day. The songs he requested her to play for her. His face bloomed into what Taehyung described as ‘disgusting, love-sick, puppy face’.

“Do you think she likes me too?”

“Jesus, you’re really pathetic, Jungkook. This is why you’ve been single all your life.”

.

You really didn’t think you like him. You were just entertaining him. Maybe he was too broke to buy one track on iTunes. Maybe his laptop broke. You were just doing him a favor. Definitely not because he flashed you that cute smile that morning when you picked up your mails. Not because of the way your heart beat a little faster at the sight of him helping your neighbor and playing with some random dogs by the street. Most definitely not because of the butterflies in your stomach every time he greeted you in the hallway. It was justa favor.

But when you jumped out of your couch to run to the front door, beaming from ear to ear at the little notes and cute doodles he drew you for the day, you knew it wasn’t just some simple favor for a neighbor. He drew you a little cat and you thought it was you, judging from the frown on the face and your favorite dress. It was too adorable and you ended up sticking it on the fridge along with the other doodles he had given you.

You were, as Yoongi and Hoseok had said, completely and utterly fucked.

.

Friday was supposed to be a good day. But it rained the moment you exited the building and you had to deal with traffic. As if it wasn’t bad enough for you, you ripped a hole on your rain boots on your way to a meeting. You had to sit with wet socks for a good three hours, freezing your ass off because you had also forgotten to bring your favorite scarf. The client ended up not liking the song and ordered you to do more revision, much to your frustration. But the highlight of your awful day has got to be the time when you realized you’ve forgotten your keys and locked yourself out of your own apartment while Seokjin was away for a vacation with his daughter and Yoongi was visiting his family for the weekend.

“Great.” You sniffled, rubbing your nose pink as you sat down in front of your apartment. Your hair and clothes were wet from the rainstorm and you wondered if your makeup was still intact or you’ve already turned into a sad raccoon. You were too engrossed in your pity-party for one to notice the opened door next to you. You didn’t even notice it until said person crouched in front of you with worry plastered all over his face.

“[Y/N]?” Jungkook hesitantly called.

He smelled like pine and fresh soap and something else that made you feel at home. You looked up at him, startled at how worried he looked.

“Are you okay?”

At his words, you sniffled a little louder, your eyes burned with fresh tears. He gently put his hand on yours in comfort and it was like a dam broke, the tears you desperately tried to keep in check rushed down your cheeks.

“I can’t get inside!” You wailed, slapping the door pathetically.

“Shit. Please don’t cry. Oh, shit–” Jungkook panicked. “Do- do you want to go inside? I can make you some tea?”

You really didn’t know why it just made you cried harder.

“Y-yes.” You hiccupped between your tears as you let Jungkook guided you inside his apartment.

.

Jungkook’s apartment was like how you imagined an artist’ apartment would look like. Books scattered near the bookshelf, his laptop propped on the coffee table with sketches strewn all over the floor. There was a small pot of cactus by the window. It was oddly endearing and so Steve.

“You can sit here.” He offered, grabbing all his sketches and dumping it on the lone couch beside you. “I’ll get you some towels and clothes? Will that be okay? I can make you tea too.” He rambled.

You can only manage a weak nod, trailing behind Jungkook while he dug out a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his bedroom.

“You have a nice apartment.” You said between hiccups. “I like the little cactus.”

He laughed and it almost sent your heart into overdrive. He had that adorable blush on his cheeks as he led you to the bathroom, explaining which one was soap and which was shampoo in case you want to use it. You didn’t really pay attention to it, too focused on the way he smiled and the affectionate pat on your head before he left you alone. And if you accidentally used the soap on your hair, it was understandable. You were sad and tired.

.

Jungkook was sitting on the kitchen counter when you finally stepped out of the bathroom with a T-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely too large for you. You tried to pull up the pants as you waddled to the kitchen, trying not to trip on your pants by accident (damn Jungkook and his long legs). He quickly looked up, face blooming into a warm smile at the sight of you standing in front of him (his brain short-circuited at how adorable you looked in his clothes but he would never tell you that).

“TEA!” He said a little too loud, blushing as he almost shoved the hot mug at you.

“Thank you.” You hesitantly took it, sipping and sighing in relief as it slowly warmed your body.

“I have to finish some work first but you’re free to do anything here. You can grab anything to eat if you’re hungry or you can just sleep. Just–,” he paused, “just make yourself at home.”

You dumbly nodded while Jungkook ran to the living room, wanting to get away from you as soon as possible so you wouldn’t see how red his cheeks were. Too tired to do anything, you decided to join Jungkook in the living room. You walked past the fridge, smiling at the little notes he had until your eyes caught the familiar notes and handwriting that definitely belonged to you. The little ugly doodles you did for him, the weird messages. You froze as it dawned on you. Jungkook had kept every single note you have sent him and stuck them all over his fridge.

“Hey are you ok–,” Jungkook’s question died out when he saw you standing in front of his fridge, holding a piece of paper.

“You kept this?” You softly asked.

“Uhh–,” Jungkook’s mouth slightly opened, trying to find an excuse that doesn’t scream ‘I have the biggest crush on you’.

“That’s really sweet.” You giggled, feeling warmth creeping up your face. You didn’t know if it was the tea or the weather that made you look at him in the eyes and said, “I kept yours too.”

Jungkook was sure his brain stopped working the moment the words escaped your lips. You kept his doodles. The doodles Taehyung thought was a dumb tactic to get your attention. He thought he heard you said it was cute and you really liked them, but he couldn’t really hear it over how loud his heartbeat was. So, being the smart person that he was, he took a step closer towards you and blurted out, “I really want to kiss you.”

(He did get to kiss you, only to panic a moment later when he felt how feverish you were.)

“I’m okay.” You insisted as Jungkook dragged you to his bed, forcing you to take some medicine and get some sleep. “Kiss me, please?”

“You’re really sick, [Y/N]. Let’s talk about this tomorrow okay? When you feel better.” He smiled, though he still planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Okay.” You cutely nodded and Jungkook swore he died and went to heaven when you reached out your hand to hold his before you fell asleep.

[writingbarnes]

Best Regards, Steve Rogers

Summary : You really didn’t hate Steve Rogers, the resident graphic designer with – as Scott had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. You really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting. NEIGHBOR AU!

Character : Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Genre : Fluff,crack, failed attempt at angst |  

Words : almost 2.5K

Author’s Note : Sometimes you get months of writer’s block and then you finished a one shot in a few hours :))) What is writing. I have like 2 version of this so if you see the kpop one that’s me 🤷

Enjoy <3 Tell me what you think! Thank you @pleasecallmecaptain for reading this mess and for the inspiration behind the rain boots lmao

You didn’t hate your neighbor, really. You barely knew the guy! Your landlord only told you his name was Steve and that he was a graphic designer. “Maybe you know each other!” Scott, your overly optimistic borderline dopey landlord had said when you mentioned you were a music producer. That was not how it works, but you couldn’t really destroy your landlord’s excitement, so you replied with a smile. You didn’t think you’ve even met the guy when you first moved in aside from the note slipped under your door telling you to stop making loud noises at night. It would have been fine if it weren’t for the fact that he took the time to doodle dying stick figures on one corner with one stick figure clanging cymbals on the other corner (you might have ended up replying with a very bad doodle and an equally passive-aggressive note but that was not the point).

You really didn’t hate Steve Rogers, the resident graphic designer with – as Scott had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. Bucky Barnes, the resident grumpy cat lady who happened to be your cousin, had also told you the same thing, although with a very much more interesting choice of words (“the dumbass who’d jumped off a plane without a parachute because he thinks he’s cool” Bucky said as he helped you unload some boxes). But then again, you’ve spent most of your life with Bucky and you knew the guy never said anything nice to anyone except for his cats. Hell, he even told you, his favorite cousin, that you looked like 'the hairball his cat hacked up’ when you fought off some bullies who made fun of his prosthetic arm.

“He’s not that bad.” Natasha, the scary redhead lady who lived two floors above yours commented the other day. She had accidentally listened to Bucky’s very creative opinions on Steve. “Kinda dumb when it comes to girls, but a very decent guy. You look like you can get along with him.”

“Excuse me, are you implying I’m kinda dumb too?” You asked.

Natasha only flashed you a grin as she sauntered off and it reminded you of Bucky’s cat that would always try to claw your face whenever you came too close to it.

“Come to think of it, you are similar in some ways,” Bucky commented offhandedly as he picked up another box. “You have that look on your face.”

“What? Beauty?”

“It’s more of a perpetually confused look. But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

(You chucked your sandal at his head at his comment.)

So yes, you really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting.

“Do you want me to buy you a headphone? :(“

“It’s amazing how you and Bucky are friends for so long! I wouldn’t have survived it.”

And more intricate doodles of what you thought was you screaming while the other stick figures cried in the corner.

.

Steve Rogers was a little shit and you didn’t know why everyone thought you’d get along with him. You, as the mature adult that you were, decided to play loud music that night only for Steve to slip more notes and stupid passive-aggressive doodle at midnight. The exchange went on for the next three months. Which was why you were now lying on Bucky’s couch, asking him for more revenge ideas. You had played most of the songs on your favorite playlist, to the ones you hated. And you had collected a pile of post-it notes with doodles and weird notes that you were sure were filled with more passive aggressive messages and insults.

“He’s a little shit, Bucky.” You groaned.

“You have one more thing in common then,” Bucky replied.

“I am not!”

“Didn’t you try to make better brownies for the new neighbor last week?” You opened your mouth to retort, only for Bucky to cut you off, “and both of you ended up sending tons of food to our poor neighbor by the end of the week.”

“He started it.” You grumbled.

You should have known better. You should have left the apartment when you realized Bucky was silent for a good minute before his lips curled into the most obnoxious smile you have ever seen.

“[Y/N]…” he started with a manic grin. “Do… do you have a crush on Steve Rogers?”

“I DO NOT!”

You definitely did not have a crush on your tall, cute neighbor of yours that always tried to get on your nerve. And the heat on your cheeks was definitely because of the hot weather. Nothing to do with how Bucky kept staring at you with that stupid grin or the thought of Steve that popped into your mind.

.

“Hey, [Y/N].” You jumped at the voice and quickly turned around to face Steve standing by his door with his eyebrows raised. His lips quirked into a smirk at how wide-eyed you were.

“Steve.” You nodded, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Hey, can you play those cute songs you blasted the other day? I kinda like it.” Wait, what?

“Do you not have iTunes, Steve? You know you can buy the tracks online, right?”

“It’s free.” He shrugged. “I’ll draw you some doodles if you want.”

You gawked at him. Steve, bless his heart, had the decency to look a little sheepish for a mere second before he went back to his annoying self.

“Don’t forget to play the songs!” He grinned before he entered his apartment, leaving you gaping at his door in confusion and shock.

.

“Were you trying to flirt with her?” Sam asked the moment Steve closed the door behind him.

“Uh…”

“Cause that’s so pathetic.” Sam snorted, ignoring how red his best friend’s face had become. “Man, I told you to be all cute and romantic and you decided that sending weird notes and doodles are romantic?”

Steve groaned and buried his face in the couch while his best friend watched him from the kitchen, clearly used to his antics. “Wh-ami-sup-to—do!”

“Well, you could start by actually talking to her and not acting like a kid. She’s pretty nice once you get to know her.” Steve quickly turned to Sam, his eyes wide.

“You’ve talked to her?!”

“She gave me some brownies, which, in my opinion, taste better than yours.” Sam shrugged, sipping his coffee while he enjoyed the sight of Steve flailing on the couch, mumbling more incoherent words. “I can’t believe you have a crush on your neighbor and your first idea is to tell her she played her music too loud.”

Steve was about to reply when he heard it. The bubbly pop music she had played the other day. The songs he requested her to play for him. His face bloomed into what Sam described as ‘disgusting, love-sick, puppy face’.

“Do you think she likes me too?”

“Jesus, you’re really pathetic, Steve. This is why you’ve been single all your life.”

.

You really didn’t think you liked him. You were just entertaining him. Maybe he was too broke to buy one track on iTunes. Maybe his laptop broke. You were just doing him a favor. Definitely not because he flashed you that cute smile that morning when you picked up your mails. Not because of the way your heart beat a little faster at the sight of him helping your neighbor and playing with some random dogs by the street. Most definitely not because of the butterflies in your stomach every time he greeted you in the hallway. It was just a favor.

But when you jumped out of your couch to run to the front door, beaming from ear to ear at the little notes and cute doodles he drew you for the day, you knew it wasn’t just some simple favor for a neighbor. He drew you a little cat and you thought it was you, judging from the frown on the face and your favorite dress. It was too adorable and you ended up sticking it on the fridge along with the other doodles he had given you.

You were, as Bucky had said, completely and utterly fucked.

.

Friday was supposed to be a good day. But it rained the moment you exited the building and you had to deal with traffic. As if it wasn’t bad enough for you, you ripped a hole on your rain boots on your way to a meeting. You had to sit with wet socks for a good three hours, freezing your ass off because you had also forgotten to bring your favorite scarf. The client ended up not liking the song and ordered you to do more revision, much to your frustration. But the highlight of your awful day has got to be the time when you realized you’ve forgotten your keys and locked yourself out of your own apartment while Scott was away for a vacation with his daughter and Bucky was visiting his family for the weekend.

“Great.” You sniffled, rubbing your nose pink as you sat down in front of your apartment. Your hair and clothes were wet from the rainstorm and you wondered if your makeup was still intact or if you’ve already turned into a sad raccoon. You were too engrossed in your pity-party for one to notice the opened door next to you. You didn’t even notice it until said person crouched in front of you with worry plastered all over his face.

“[Y/N]?” Steve hesitantly called.

He smelled like pine and fresh soap and something else that made you feel at home. You looked up at him, startled at how worried he looked.

“Are you okay?”

At his words, you sniffled a little louder, your eyes burned with fresh tears. He gently put his hand on yours in comfort and it was like a dam broke, the tears you desperately tried to keep in check rushed down your cheeks.

“I can’t get inside!” You wailed, slapping the door pathetically.

“Shit. Please don’t cry. Oh, shit–” Steve panicked. “Do- do you want to come inside? I can make you some tea?”

You really didn’t know why it just made you cried harder.

“Y-yes.” You hiccupped between your tears as you let Steve guide you inside his apartment.

.

Steve’s apartment was like how you imagined an artist’ apartment would look like. Books scattered near the bookshelf, his laptop propped on the coffee table with sketches strewn all over the floor. There was a small pot of cactus by the window. It was oddly endearing and so was Steve.

“You can sit here.” He offered, grabbing all his sketches and dumping it on the lone couch beside you. “I’ll get you some towels and clothes? Will that be okay? I can make you tea too.” He rambled.

You can only manage a weak nod, trailing behind Steve while he dug out a  T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his bedroom.

“You have a nice apartment.” You said between hiccups. “I like the little cactus.”

He laughed and it almost sent your heart into overdrive. He had that adorable blush on his cheeks as he led you to the bathroom, explaining which one was soap and which was shampoo in case you want to use it. You didn’t really pay attention to it, too focused on the way he smiled and the affectionate pat on your head before he left you alone. And if you accidentally used the soap on your hair, it was understandable. You were sad and tired.

.

Steve was sitting on the kitchen counter when you finally stepped out of the bathroom with a T-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely too large for you. You tried to pull up the pants as you waddled to the kitchen, trying not to trip on your pants by accident (damn Steve and his long legs). He quickly looked up, face blooming into a warm smile at the sight of you standing in front of him (his brain short-circuited at how adorable you looked in his clothes but he would never tell you that).

“TEA!” He said a little too loud, blushing as he almost shoved the hot mug at you.

“Thank you.” You hesitantly took it, sipping and sighing in relief as it slowly warmed your body.

“I have to finish some work first but you’re free to do anything here. You can grab anything to eat if you’re hungry or you can just sleep. Just–,” he paused, “just make yourself at home.”

You dumbly nodded while Steve ran to the living room, wanting to get away from you as soon as possible so you wouldn’t see how red his cheeks were. Too tired to do anything, you decided to join Steve in the living room. You walked past the fridge, smiling at the little notes he had until your eyes caught the familiar notes and handwriting that definitely belonged to you. The little ugly doodles you did for him, the weird messages. You froze as it dawned on you. Steve had kept every single note you have sent him and stuck them all over his fridge.

“Hey are you ok–,” Steve’s question died when he saw you standing in front of his fridge, holding a piece of paper.

“You kept this?” You softly asked.

“Uhh–,” Steve’s mouth slightly opened, trying to find an excuse that doesn’t scream ‘I have the biggest crush on you’.

“That’s really sweet.” You giggled, feeling warmth creeping up your face. You didn’t know if it was the tea or the weather that made you look at him in the eyes and said, “I kept yours too.”

Steve was sure his brain stopped working the moment the words escaped your lips. You kept his doodles. The doodles Sam thought was dumb. He thought he heard you said it was cute and you really liked them, but he couldn’t really hear it over how loud his heartbeat was. So, being the smart person that he was, he took a step closer towards you and blurted out, “I really want to kiss you.”

(He did get to kiss you, only to panic a moment later when he felt how feverish you were.)

“I’m okay.” You insisted as Steve dragged you to his bed, forcing you to take some medicine and get some sleep. “Kiss me, please?”

“You’re really sick, [Y/N]. Let’s talk about this tomorrow okay? When you feel better.” He smiled, though he still planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Okay.” You cutely nodded and Steve swore he died and went to heaven as he watched you reached out your hand to hold his.

[sk-salazar]

Here are my favorite things and some amazing observations about “Change Your Mind”. Needless to say, there are spoilers.

💖 Those cute rainbow caterpillar bois that Pink brought to Homeworld. And the image in my head of them chasing the Pearls. 😂 Someone needs to draw that.

💖 That DejaBlue pun.

💖 Connie standing up to Mama Blue and using her strict parents to her advantage.

💖 Steven standing up for his support of fusion instead of just giving Blue an empty apology.

💖 Blue realizing that she was wrong to use her emotional manipulation powers on her loved ones all these eons. And her comment about Homeworld failing Pink instead of Pink failing Homeworld. So many kids who defy the status quo need to hear this.

💖 Blue hiding the kids in her hair loop.

💖 The symbolism behind Steven throwing off his Pink Diamond getup and putting on his own clothes to confront White. (Maybe they’re just more comfortable, but I feel like there’s a clear message there.)

💖 Blue saying, “She prefers to be called Steven.” Even if she didn’t use a male pronoun, I can see a message here of accepting your trans kid and defending their chosen identify. Even if it causes a strain in your marriage.

💖 Connie’s courage (again!) to stand up to Yellow. Everyone kept blaming Connie for “blowing Steven’s chance to talk to White” because she fused with him. And Connie’s statement about changing the rules for everyone was the best clapback to that. Steven knows he’s right. Steven knows that servitude is wrong. He knows that denying who you want to be and not loving who you want to love is wrong. So if he is to confront White Diamond, he must do it on his terms, not hers.

💖 Yellow crying of her own volition.

💖 Connie’s “face-off” pun and all the hand puns about the ships. 😂 And Bismuth wanting to uppercut an upper crust. The writing for this episode was 🔥.

💖 Steven saying “GASP!” instead of actually gasping. 😂

💖 Lapis’ and Peridot’s new forms! I’m so in love with Lapis’ palazzo pants and golden sandals! She looks like she has so much more personality now. 💙💚

💖 Peridot saying, “Who needs thumbs?” even tho they’re the reason humans are an advanced species. 😂

💖 Steven’s observation about all his forms. Pink represented the “flight” response and Rose represented the “fight” response. Both of which are primitive responses to conflict. Meanwhile, Steven represents using logic and compassion to foster dialogue. He’s the most ascended form.

💖 Blue saying, “In order to fix [our family], we must admit that it’s broken.” Here, she voices the most common fear of those people who always push back against progress.

💖 Yellow telling Steven to #TakeAKnee . I see what you did there, Sugar Woman. 😏

💖 Yellow having the courage to tell White that “we need to talk about us”. (I love all the throwback references in this episode! One of which is this line, which is a throwback to the episode about Greg and Rose.)

💖 Steven telling White to “let us in your head” or to “get out of your head”. To be “in your head” means that you’re self-centered and unconcerned about the world around you. Again, that 🔥 writing.

💖 Amethyst’s owl pun. 😂

💖 Steven fusing with all the Crystal Gems to save them. Not only was it a great idea in an emergency, but it’s a great plot device. It gives us the answer to our questions about who all the Steven fusions are, thereby making it easier to wrap up the show sometime in the near future.

💖 The new fusions!!! Rainbow Quartz is a posh twink, Sunstone is a positive, 80’s rapper-esque cool dude role model for kids and Obsidian fucking Te Ka.

💖 Rainbow Quartz blowing a raspberry, Rainbow Quartz blasting off with a literal rainbow trail, Rainbow Quartz’s “two stones and one bird” joke. Just, Rainbow Quartz. 🌈

💖 The Crystal Gems forming a cheerleading pyramid to form Obsidian and Pearl doing a Swedish Alps move.

💖 That badass fucking shot of Obsidian’s multiple arms. As well as that epic music they played for her scene.

💖 The Crystal Gems’ new forms. Pearl has completely thrown off that flimsy veil thing that all Pearls have. (Which is a symbol of servitude to her.) And now, her outfit is a lot more conventionally human. (Maybe a sign that she wants to pursue Mystery Girl?) Also, the Star is on her back, representing her putting her past as a Crystal Gem behind her. Now, she’s just Pearl and she just wants to live her own chosen purpose.

Garnet has both red and blue in her corset. After Ruby and Sapphire spent time apart, Ruby realized that she liked being with Sapphire while still being herself. Maybe Sapphire came to the same conclusion. Maybe they both came to the conclusion that they’re not two halves of a whole. They’re two whole beings in one pair.

💖 Bismuth loving Connie enough to make her a custom non-Rose Quartz-themed sword. I love how much she loves and protects the new crew.

💖 The Great and Lovable Peridot declaring that she’s Homeworld’s savior.

💖 As unnerving as it is, I love the way White tries to mess with Steven’s head. She talks about Yellow’s, Blue’s and Pink’s impurities making them dependent on each other. (Essentially, colored diamonds are created because of impurities.) And also how Pink surrounds herself with outcasts in order to be considered normal or good. I don’t agree with any of her statements, but you’ll often hear bigots use the same kind of logic to justify their worldview, which really makes this show hit home in many ways. I have to admit, her words kind of messed with my head, too. For a moment, I had some intrusive thoughts, wondering if I believed what I believe so that I could be “the best of the worst”. I snapped out of it really quick, mind you. But this was an incredibly effective speech.

💖 Amethyst calling White a dirt wad. 😂 She has NO chill.

💖 Again, White Diamond being an absolute villain when she says, “Now I’ve removed all their flaws. Now they are perfect, now they are ME.” This could be an interpretation of God. He sees free will as a mistake because his creations choose NOT to glorify him and NOT to be molded in his image. So many awesome sneak-disses of real people in this episode. 😎👏🏼

💖 Yellow Pearl’s silly Pink Steven line turning out to be foreshadowing. 🤦🏻‍♀️

💖 The palpable representation of self-love in the form of Steven adoring his own form. Also, there’s a throwback to Rose Quartz saying, “Every time you love yourself or you love being yourself, that’s me loving you and loving being you.” Steven really is Pink’s ascended form. The song in the credits is from Pink to Steven.

💖 Rose Quartz and Pink being gone for good. So many stories have characters that come back to life and it seems like death loses meaning nowadays. As much as I love Rose, I’m here for her never coming back. Especially because that represents Pink/Rose/Steven growing and moving on. Just as we never go back to our old, naive selves, neither should Pink.

💖 Steven being equal to White in power, apparently. She was shook with that scream of his! And he took his sweet ass time walking towards his meat suit. That’s power right there.

💖 White saying, “I only want you to be yourself and if you can’t do that, I’ll do it for you.” A perfect representation of people nowadays forcing people to deny their true identities through draconian laws, unwritten social codes and bigoted statements.

(“You do not look like this, you do not sound like this, you are Pink Diamond” = “If you have a penis/vagina, you’re a man/woman.” “That gender doesn’t exist.” “Men and women are supposed to be with each other because...reproduction.” “You can live together, but don’t call it marriage.” Etc, etc.)

💖 The best line in the whole show: “I AM a child. What’s your excuse?” What a sweet, heartfelt way to remind us of the pilot episode, when all this magic got started. 😭

💖 White Diamond interpreted Pink’s “impurity” as warmth earlier. All this time, she thought that being “perfect” meant being detached, cold, unsympathetic, overbearing and cruel. But she becomes more likeable and multi-faceted when she absorbs Pink’s warmth/light. Without it, she’s a creepy, aloof puppet master. But with it, she becomes the same old White that the Diamonds loved. She changed quite easily, so that indicates to me that she felt the need to remove her emotions to become a more effective leader. (Kind of like how people with broken hearts often vow never to love again.) There should be a future exploration on this. Did she remove her own emotions? Did she do it in order to detach herself from grieving for Pink? Or did a higher, more eldritch power do this to her? 🤔 Either way, Pink’s warmth is the antidote to all forms of frigidity. For all that guff about her perfect white light penetrating everyone, she sure got shown a thing or two. 😁

💖 Apparently, Pink Pearl is okay-ish. She probably still has the trauma of being taken from Pink and having her eye cracked. But she apparently has no memory of being controlled. I was so tormented for the last month, wondering if poor Pink Pearl was screaming for freedom, trapped inside her own body. 😢

💖 Steven’s throwback to the song he sung to Lars and Sadie when they were stranded on the island. “If you let others just be whoever they are, maybe you could let yourself be whoever you are” is a throwback to “Let Yourself Just Be Wherever You Are”. It’s also a perfect message to people who rely on bigotry and forcefulness to serve as their whole identity.

💖 Sadie’s green hair. 💚 What a look! And Greg is such a good guy that he’s allowed Sadie and her band to play his song. ☺️ Also, her literal mic drop when the Diamond mothership lands above her. 🤣

💖 The way our perfect cinnamon roll always brings people together. The way he introduces the off-colors to the Diamonds like it’s NBD, like there hasn’t been eons of bad blood between them. And the way White is willing to say hello to them first. What a good grandma. ☺️ It’s funny that earlier on, White said that Pink inspires others to be their worst selves. Yet whenever Steven does stuff like this, it inspires me to be my best self. And many other fans too, I’m sure!

💖 Lars being kind to Lion. ☺️

💖 The off-colors and corrupted-now-uncorrupted Gems finally getting their happily ever after. ☺️

💖 Jasper still retaining a scar of her corruption. Because no one ever comes back unscathed and that little detail makes this story so much more real to us. Also, the way Amethyst explained everything to her, even after the way Jasper had bullied her.

💖 Yellow throwing up some deuces as the mothership was blasting off. 😂✌🏼 There is hope for these Diamonds after all.

💖 Steven’s closing song. What a perfect message to sum up the entire episode. 😍

[thatfanficstuff]

Happy Birthday - Damon

Pairing: Every single person in Mystic Falls x Friend!Reader; Damon x Reader

Warnings: so much fluff. I’m drowning in fluff.

Y/N/N = Your nickname

You sat in a chair on your front porch, your feet propped on the railing in front of you. The book you were reading had sucked you in, but that didn't keep you from glancing up occasionally and surveying the town around you. 

You sipped your lemonade and shifted your position just a bit to get more comfortable. Today was the first day in months there was no supernatural drama to worry about. Well, none you were going to worry about anyway. Your phone was turned off and laying on the kitchen counter. If it was an emergency they'd come find you, you reasoned. You deserved a day off and today was the perfect day for it.

You'd been friends with Jenna and had come to Mystic Falls with her when she suddenly found herself caretaker of two teenagers. She'd been so grateful for your 'sacrifice' but in reality you'd been looking for a change of scenery anyway. Truth was you were a rather powerful witch that was far older than you looked. 

And it was a good thing you'd tagged along. Your intervention with the hybrid had kept your friend alive. He was more than willing to find another vampire for his ritual when you promised to do some work for him. You shook your head as you smiled, remembering Niklaus was rather disgruntled to learn that didn't mean you'd cater to his every whim. Then you'd kept Kol from being killed by Jenna's nephew. 

Somewhere along the way, you'd managed to befriend both sides of the supernatural drama that saturated this little town. You could leave at anytime, and you'd thought about it. But you'd been dreadfully bored before Mystic Falls. At least there was never any shortage of excitement around here.

"There you are, gorgeous," a smooth voice said and you peered over the top of your book. Damon Salvatore leaned against one of the posts on your porch, smirking in your direction. Your heart did its normal dance it did whenever he was around. "I've been calling for hours."

You arched a brow, determined to appear completely unaffected. "Day off, Salvatore. Remember those words coming out of my mouth yesterday?"

"Yes, but what's a day off without a drink at the bar with a few friends?"

You narrowed your eyes. "When you say this do you mean, hey, let's have a drink? Or do you mean, please come help me keep someone from killing Elena?"

He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence you didn't buy at all. "Just a drink, Y/N. Stefan will be there." There was a teasing lilt to his voice as he said the last. 

"I told you before, Damon, I don't like him like that." You and Stefan had gone out on two dates before deciding you were better off as friends. You were both longing for other people whether you wanted to admit that or not. He still wanted Elena while you pined for the elder Salvatore.

You stood with an exaggerated sigh. A drink actually sounded lovely, but he didn't have to know that. "All right. One drink."

He grinned. "Great." His smile slipped as you opened the screen door heading into the house. "Where are you going?"

You glanced down at your outfit. "I'm not wearing this. I don't even have shoes on."

He groaned making you roll your eyes. He was always so dramatic. You stepped inside and slid on a pair of strappy sandals, pulling the strap up over your heel. You grabbed a 3/4 sleeved top and slid it on over your tank top before grabbing your phone and slipping it in your pocket. 

Stepping out of the house, you shut the door behind you. "Was that minute long wait too much for you, Damon? Should I call Stefan of the hero hair to come save you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Y/N." You linked your arm with his as you walked. He shifted so his arm was around your shoulders and he tugged you against his side. 

"You're buying. Didn't feel like bringing my purse," you informed him as you draped an arm around his waist. You loved being like this with him. And if just for a moment you pretended he was yours, what was the harm?

He shrugged as if it didn't matter and it probably didn't. He'd just compel the drinks out of the bartender anyway. When you arrived at the Grill, Damon detached himself from you to open the door. You stepped inside only to be met with a loud shout. "Surprise!"

You blinked in awe and glanced around the room. "How did you know?" you finally asked. You hadn't celebrated your birthday in decades. 

"My fault I'm afraid," Jenna piped up. 

Of course it was her. She stepped forward and you embraced your red-headed friend. "Thank you, Jenna."

You made your rounds through the room, greeting your friends. Well, all but the Mikaelsons. It didn't escape your notice that they weren't part of the festivities. "I think you missed a few invitations," you said to Damon as you sat beside him at the bar. 

"Um...no. No, I didn't," he insisted and sipped his drink. "I still don't understand how you can befriend them so easily."

"Do you really want to have this conversation again?" you asked.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and shook his head. You told him once that you'd figured out how many people he and Stefan would kill over a thousand years and it surpassed what they'd laid on Klaus's doorstep. In truth, you'd just made up a number, but it worked and that was the important part. 

You sipped at your drink and chatted with people as they came by while Damon stayed right by your side making sure your glass was always full. It was a couple of hours into the festivities before you heard, "Look, Brother. A party. I wonder what the occasion is."

You grinned and hurried across the room to launch yourself at Kol. He laughed as he caught you and spun you in a circle. "Hello, birthday girl."

Understandably you and Kol had become incredibly close after you saved his life. "I thought you weren't coming?"

He leaned forward to speak in your ear. "And miss all the excitement? Perish the thought, Darling."

He passed you off to his brothers, who both hugged you as well only for you to end up with Rebekah's arm around your shoulder. When you turned back to Kol, Damon was there handing the Original a beer. "You didn't honestly think I wouldn't invite your best friend, did you?" he asked with a smirk.

"Thank you, Damon." His words brought another thought to mind and you pursed your lips as you glanced around the room. You hadn't seen Stefan for ages. Or Elena for that matter. You hummed to yourself.

"Oh, no," Kol said drawing your attention.

You glanced at him with arched brows. "What?"

"You've got that look," he answered. 

"What look?" 

The group around you laughed. "The look that usually means there's going to be trouble," Klaus added his two cents with a smirk. 

You shook your head and fought a smile. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to visit the ladies' room." 

You headed toward the hall, arms crossed over your chest, looking for your two missing friends as you went. To your surprise there was a line in the hallway. "What's going on?" you asked.

"Door's locked," a girl you vaguely recognized answered.

Your gaze shifted to the door and there was that feeling again. You walked over to the men's room and pushed the door open. "Anyone in here?" you called. There was no answer. You gestured into the room with your head. "Use this one. I'll see about getting ours open."

The line of women hurried into the other restroom. Apparently they'd been waiting awhile. You studied the locked door again. You should go get an employee with a key. That's what you should do. Instead you chanted a spell and waved your fingers over the lock, smiling with satisfaction when it clicked open. 

You pushed the door open, stopping it with your hand before it could swing closed. You leaned against it with one shoulder and watched in amusement as Stefan and Elena struggled to put their clothes to rights. They glanced at you in unison and froze. 

"This isn't what it looks like," Elena argued. 

"I can explain everything, Y/N," Stefan said with wide eyes as he continued to tuck his shirt into his pants. 

"You two don't owe me an explanation. I'm not the one here with a boyfriend." But oh did your heart ache for Damon. He didn't deserve this. 

Her eyes suddenly got wide, panicked. "You can't tell Damon. He'll flip out." She grasped your arm and you stared at her hand until Stefan pulled her away.

You shifted your gaze to the two of them. "I'm not going to tell him anything. Because when you two leave here, you're going to find him and confess. Do anything else, or tell him anything but the absolute truth and I will destroy you. Understood?"

Elena started to say something and Stefan slipped his hand over her mouth as he nodded at you with a small smile. 

You looked between the two of them one more time. Their behavior was odd even for two people just caught in a compromising position. You stepped back into the hall and let the door shut. 

"So how long do you suppose they had the bathroom tied up for?" The voice made you jump and you turned in surprise to find Damon leaning against the wall beside the door. He honestly didn't look upset at all. "I mean, did it not occur to them people might have to actually use the bathroom or what?"

You arched a brow. "You're taking this well."

He shrugged and draped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's just say things between Elena and I aren't what you think." A million questions flew through your brain as he steered you through the crowd. Before you could ask any of them, you arrived at the table where the Mikaelsons sat. "Stay here," Damon said and kissed your temple before disappearing.

"There's my girl," Kol said, pulling a chair over next to him. You sat, but your eyes followed Damon as he moved across the bar to talk to the band singing in the corner. "What's up with him?" Kol asked as he tugged you against his side. 

"Hold on a second," you said and your eyes followed Stefan and Elena as they reappeared from the back hall. They immediately separated. Stefan went to the bar and grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle while Elena made her way to Damon. She stood on her tiptoes and said something in his ear. He looked annoyed as he shook his head.

"Have a drink," Stefan said as he handed you a glass of your favorite alcohol. 

You hummed in acknowledgement before taking a sip. You finally tore your eyes away from Elena and glanced at Stefan. "I thought you were going to tell him."

"Don't worry about it. It's taken care of," Stefan said. 

You heard the amusement in his voice and frowned as you leaned against Kol once more. "It doesn't matter because he already knows. He was in the hallway when I left."

"Well, don't keep the rest of us in suspense," Rebekah said glancing between you and Stefan. 

You were prepared to answer when Damon's voice cut you off. "Hello, everybody." He was up on the little stage using the band's microphone. He shot a smile in your direction as he waited for everyone to quiet down. "As you know, we're here to celebrate the 24th birthday of the lovely Y/N."

You snorted a laugh. Kol glanced down at you with an arched brow. "If I'm twenty-four, so are you," you said causing the Original to chuckle before you turned your attention back to Damon. 

"Y/N, you are the reason we are all here. In this room. Together. You make us set aside our differences just to see you smile. And we made you a little something." He lifted his arm as if to signal someone then paused. "Oh, yeah. And I would also like to report that the women's bathroom is now fully functional as it is no longer being used for sex."

You choked on your drink as the lights went down and Kol patted you on the back as he laughed. 

"Damn it, Damon," Stefan muttered.

Once you quit choking you laughed. "Well, that's one way to make that announcement."

A video started playing on the wall across from you. All of your best friends were gathered together outside somewhere smiling and waving at the camera. Matt popped out to wave into the camera, apparently he was the one filming.

The image cut to Jenna and her radiant smile. "I guess I'll start. You came here for me, but also for yourself I think. This place suits you. You've saved me in more ways than you can ever know."

"Which means you saved me," Ric said off-screen and the image widened to include him. He sat behind Jenna, his arms wrapped around her with his hands resting on her belly. "And this little one, whoever they are."

Your hands flew up to your mouth and tears welled in your eyes. Jenna was pregnant.

"We already discussed it," Jenna said and smiled up at Ric, "and if it's a girl, we're naming it Y/N." 

Kol rubbed your back as the tears fell down your face. At least they were happy tears for once. 

"I can't believe you all kept that from me," you shouted into the dark to be met with laughter which died down quickly as Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie came onto the screen. 

"Hey, Y/N/N," Bonnie said with a wave. "You're older than us, but you've always been there helping us out. We just wanted to say thanks." All three girls said happy birthday before Matt passed the camera to Caroline. 

"Hey, it's me. Matt. But you know that. Anyway. Thanks for making sure some of us stay ourselves." He scratched the top of his head. "Well, you know what I mean."

Jeremy pushed him out of the way and he and Tyler popped onto the screen. "And for keeping some of us from making stupid mistakes."

"All right, children. Run along. It's time for the adults to talk now," Klaus's voice came from off screen and you glanced over to find him smiling at you. He gestured to the wall so you'd turn your attention back to the video. All the Mikaelsons were onscreen at once. 

"Oh, God," you moaned and Kol chuckled behind you. 

"Hello, Y/N," Rebekah yelled with a wave. "You saved my brother."

"You helped us all see other ways to accomplish our goals," Klaus added.

"We've had numerous discussions on topics I haven't had the pleasure of debating in years," Elijah said with a smile.

"And you're my best friend. But you knew that already." Kol hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your head as his counterpart talked on the screen.

"In short, Y/N/N, you're family. Always and Forever," Elijah said.

"So, even though Damon said this was supposed to be your present," Rebekah rolled her eyes as she made that announcement, "here's a key to our home. You're welcome anytime. Not that you didn't already know that."

Rebekah slid a key across the table to you and you snatched it from the surface and shoved it in your pocket. "Thank you," you mouthed to her. She smiled and nodded.

"But of course, that's not much of a present. And we do like to make grand gestures in this family, don't we?" Klaus said from the video. "So here's the rest of your present." He held up an envelope. "I bought your house from your landlord, love. It's yours now."

You sat there stunned for a moment before turning slowly to look at Klaus. He grinned at you. A real genuine smile, not a smirk. He slid the envelope across the table. "We all chipped in, love. Happy birthday."

"You bought me a house," you said, your voice low. You looked at the envelope then at all of them. "You bought me a house."

Rebekah waved her hand through the air. "Oh, who cares. It's not like we're not drowning in bloody money. It's our way of making sure you don't run off."

"Do you think she's had enough time to freak out about the house yet?" You heard from the video and turned back to see Stefan and Damon were now on the screen. It was Damon that had asked the question.

"Probably not, but this was supposed to be a short video," Stefan answered. "How do you want to do this?"

Damon winced. "I think maybe you better handle this first part."

Stefan nodded once and let out a long breath. "Elena and I...Elena and Damon..."

"Really, Stefan?" video Damon asked. 

You watched as Elena marched onto the screen and gave Stefan a long, lingering kiss. You were fairly certain there was tongue involved. 

"Guys!" Damon finally yelled. When they kept kissing he looked at the camera and shook his head. "This would be why you haven't seen me with Elena for the past several weeks. Yes, we kissed. Yes, I wanted her once upon a time. But that changed. It changed a long time ago if I'm honest."

Your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes stayed glued to Damon. Was he honestly saying what you thought he was? Could he possibly love you as much as you loved him? The tightness in your chest from the anticipation made it hard to breathe.

The camera zoomed in on him. "You see, somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. Head over heels, crazy, insane, love." Your hands covered your mouth again as you tapped your feet on the floor in excitement. He'd said it. Damon Salvatore loved you.

He glanced down then back up. "But you know me, Y/N/N. In fact, I'm pretty sure you know me in ways no one else does. And knowing me as you do, there was no possible way you could love me back. There was no possible way I deserved you. So I avoided you. And drank. And got in a fight with your best friend because he wouldn't keep his paws off you."

You glanced back at Kol and he grinned as he gave you a nod.

"You can thank him for knocking some sense into me, actually. Look, I'm about to do something incredibly foolish and probably a little bit selfish but I can't help it. Just...have some pity on an old man and let me down easy, huh?"

With that the video turned off. After a moment the lights came up, starting dim and slowly getting brighter. You had intended to find Damon immediately but as it turned out, you didn't have to. He was right in front of you. On one knee.

You gasped and tears streamed down your cheeks as you did your best to wipe them away. You kept your gaze locked on his, not even glancing at the ring in his hands. It wasn't important. Only the man in front of you mattered. 

Damon gave you a rare, genuine smile. "I realize I'm skipping a whole bunch of steps here, but I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone. Marry me, Y/N/N. It doesn't have to be next week or even next year, just promise me somewhere in the future you'll be my wife. We can do the whole dating thing if you want, but wear my ring. Be mine."

You leaned forward and took his face in your hands. "You are 100% crazy, Damon Salvatore, but I love you, too. And yes, I will marry you." You pressed your lips to his and a cheer went up from the crowd around you.

You, however, heard nothing but Damon's declarations of love for you as he slipped the ring on your finger.  

Tag List: @evyiione

[aardvark-123]

Gensokyo Festival day 2: Games

“Games” can mean many things, so here’s a little biting satire. Enjoy.

~Reimu Isn’t So Great at Boxing~

"Phantom Sign: Sword of Nightmares!"

"Heaven Sign: Starburst!"

Sanae and Youmu spun slowly through the air as they sent waves of bullets in all directions. A hundred flashing swords whirled past fiery blue stars, leaving the moon rabbits scrambling for cover.

Ringo yelped as a star bounced off her soft, round tummy. "Seiran, they're crushing us! Do something!"

"Like what?!" snapped Seiran, weaving desperately through a dozen swords.

"That new spell-card you got! Try it!"

"But I don't even know if-"

Seiran saw Sanae screaming towards her and dove out of the way. Sanae gave her a stinging smack on the foot, but Seiran's other foot found its mark and sent Sanae spiralling into the sky.

Youmu charged at Seiran with swords drawn. Ringo ploughed into her, forcing the air out of her lungs. Youmu grabbed Ringo's ears and swung her around.

"Aiyeeee! Stop! Stop it!" wailed Ringo, flailing helplessly.

"Well, since you asked!" Youmu flung Ringo up into the air.

As soon as she got her bearings, Ringo grabbed a handful of dango from her pocket and threw the chewy treats at Youmu. One, two, three balls of rice flour she slashed in half, but the fourth splatted right in her face. Youmu screamed as the berry sauce stung her eyes.

"YES!" Ringo punched the air. "Now, Seiran, finish them! I know you can do it!" Seiran whirled past a frog throw by Sanae and gripped her new spell-card. "Here goes... Legendary Arcanum: Danmaku Barrier!"

Thousands upon thousands of bullets exploded outwards. Youmu and Sanae had just a second to react before they were bowled off their feet by a wall of burning light. They plummeted helplessly and flopped down in a battered heap on the grass.

Seiran was screaming as the energy coursed through her body, sparking across her skin and almost setting her clothes on fire. None of her spell-cards had taken even a tenth as much power before.

Just as Seiran was reaching the end of her strength the spell-card stopped. All the bullets disappeared in a shower of blue and purple sparks. Seiran sank down in exhaustion.

"Oh, wow, that was amazing!" Ringo rushed over to hug the exhausted Seiran. "What kind of spell-card was that?! It was so...! So much!"

"Apparently it's one of the rarest spell-cards you can find," said Seiran, with a weary smile. "I had no idea it was going to be so intense!"

"Nor did we," Youmu and Sanae groaned in unison.

Seiran laughed guiltily.

"Where'd you get that spell, anyway? Did you make it yourself?" asked Sanae, propping herself up on her elbows.

"No, I bought it. From Reimu."

"From Reimu?!" repeated Youmu.

"Yeah! She's selling lots of cool stuff now!" declared Ringo.

"Cool... stuff?" repeated Youmu.

"Like spell-cards and things!" Ringo elaborated. "The prices aren't bad."

"Aren't bad?" repeated Youmu.

"Metal Gear?!" cried Sanae, doing a deep, gravelly voice.

An awkward silence followed.

"...And then it turned out the whole thing was just a simulation. Now, the next game chronologically was Metal Gear Solid 4, but Metal Gear Solid 3 came out before that. It was about Solid Snake's dad."

"You mean Solidus Snake?"

"Wh-?! No! It was Naked Snake!" Sanae's brow furrowed. "Or was it Venom Snake? Anyway, some people sent Snakey-boy the Elder into Russia to destroy another Metal Gear, which was actually the first one ever built. He met this woman who was actually two people, neither of which was his mentor who wasn't actually his mother-"

"I'm going to have to stop you there, Sanae."

"Huh? Why?!"

"Self-preservation," said Youmu, drawing an angry pout from Sanae.

They hiked the rest of the way in silence. They could see flags and bunting waving in the breeze as they neared the shrine, and a small crowd of visitors had gathered inside the torii.

"What's going on here?" Sanae elbowed her way to the front of the crowd, an anxious Youmu in tow. Reimu was standing proudly on the decking with a pile of wooden boxes. "Reimu, are you... Are you having a box sale?"

"Hm?" Reimu flinched guiltily. "Oh, Sanae! Hi! These are, um... I promise I haven't sunk to Kanako's level. Just- just hear me out, all right? These boxes are special, all right."

"Wh... What do you mean, 'sunk'?" Sanae glowered at Reimu.

"Oh, nothing... Anyway, these are no ordinary boxes!" said Reimu firmly. "These boxes, ladies and addition ladies, are LOOT-boxes!"

"Loot...?" said Sanae dumbfoundedly.

"Boxes...?" agreed Youmu.

"That's right! In each of these boxes is a super-special random prize!" Reimu launched into her marketing spiel. "It could be a powerful new spell-card, it could be a bomb, it could be a dozen power-up tablets or point biscuits! It could be a new mob-cap or a pair of thermal socks! It could even be a new one-liner for you to say when you win a duel! And what's more, for every ten loot-boxes you purchase, you'll get a free packet of instant noodles!"

"I'll buy one! I'll buy one!" squeaked Chen, running to the front of the shrine.

"All right! Two hundred mon, please," said Reimu.

Chen eagerly passed over a handful of coins. Reimu pocketed them and gave Chen a box.

"Yay!" squeaked Chen, tearing the ribbon off and opening up the box. Her face fell as she pulled out a single red amulet. "Awww... It's just a spell-tag."

Reimu began to sweat. "L-look, everyone! She's thrilled with her purchase!"

"No I'm not! It's a total ripmmmff-?!"

"Another happy customer!" laughed Reimu, her hand clamped over Chen's mouth. "These loot-boxes are selling like hot cakes, ladies and additional ladies, so don't delay! Buy yours today!"

A worried hubbub descended over the crowd.

"Excuse me," said Sakuya, "what are the odds of receiving a single spell-tag?"

Reimu laughed the laugh of a woman who knew the world was falling to pieces around her. "Um, a- a fair and, and sensible amount? Of odds?"

"Are there any other dummy prizes?" asked Narumi.

"No, of course not!" wailed Reimu.

Yuuka grabbed a loot-box off the decking and tore it open. She plucked a small scrap of paper from within and shook it angrily under Reimu's nose. "What's this?" she asked, her voice as sweet as honey laced with plastic explosives.

"That's... That wasn't supposed to be in there." Reimu ducked behind her donation box. "D-do you want a free packet of instant noodles as compensation? There's got to be some back here-"

Yuuka pounced on the box with a furious snarl and stomped it into splintered wreckage. She grabbed Reimu by the throat and hoisted her upright. "What have you got to say for yourself, thief?!"

Gasps of horror rose from the crowd. A few of the weaker youkai bolted into the trees.

Youmu grabbed Sanae's sleeve. Her heart was pounding. "Sanae, we have to do something!"

"Er... Um..." panicked Sanae. "What do you fancy? Fighting Yuuka or fighting Reimu? Or a whole angry crowd?"

Youmu gulped loudly. "Neither would be good!"

"Let me go! I- I'm warning you!" choked Reimu, reaching for her orbs.

"Not a chance. Reimu, you bad girl, I'm going to enjoy punishing you...!" hissed Yuuka.

"I'll buy two thousand," said a voice.

The newcomer's dulcet tones cut through the noise. The throng fell silent in a matter of seconds.

"Two thousand of your finest loot-boxes, please!" All eyes turned to Jo'on, who was weaving her way towards the shrine with bulging wallet in hand.

"H... Huh?" Reimu peered at her through bleary eyes. "Oh, right. Of course. Yuuka, could you put me down?"

"Needle... Common spell-card... One boot... Stockings... Point biscuit..." Jo'on scoffed down the square biscuit and sighed. There were still a hundred boxes to go. "Mob cap... Another common spell-card... Ooh, yay, Divine Virtues of Wind God!" She smooched the rare card, getting glitter and wet purple ink on her face.

"Right, what's next? Amulet... Paint brush... Common spell-card... Mob cap... Mob cap..."

"Um, Jo'on? Hello?"

Youmu and Sanae were clambering over the pile of empty boxes in the front garden. Jo'on barely glanced at them. "If you want some tea, ask Shion. Common spell-card... Piece of coal... Hair ribbon..."

Sanae cleared her throat and stepped forwards. "We've dealt with the Incident, if you were wondering."

"Wasn't wondering. Don't care. Needle... Frilly dress... Power tablet... Hm, the other boot. Point biscuit... Common spell-card..."

Youmu gave Sanae a hopeful look.

"The thing is," said Sanae, "Reimu didn't really want to start selling those box thingies. She was being blackmailed by an evil goddess from the Outside World who wanted to corrupt our spirits."

"One sandal... A pencil... Two nice-looking shells... Common spell-card... Handful of sand... Foldable katana..."

"She wanted to spread greed and cynicism to make herself stronger, but it turned out she was being manipulated by this businessman- a normal human businessman who'd seen Gensokyo in a dream and wanted to turn the place into a theme park," Sanae doggedly pressed on.

"Common spell-card... Common spell-card... Life piece... Hair ribbon... Tiny hat... Lump of copper..."

"Jo'on, we've had a really trying day!" Youmu piped up, flushing red with annoyance. "First we had to fight a squid, then we fought a chimera, then we had tea with a kitsune who tried to poison us, then the goddess showed up and tried to turn our hearts, then we fought all our worst fears inside our own heads-!" she took a deep breath.

"Point biscuit... Piece of coal... Amulet... Straw hat... Common spell-card..."

"Then we spent hours trying to book a train in this huge city called Nagoya, then we broke into a rectangular tower where everything was all white and shiny, then we fought dozens of evil cyborg youkai, then we had to wade through a bunch of tar pits, then Yuuka punched a giant robot in the face, then the businessman tried to drown us in molten titanium...! It ruined my shoes! Jo'on, doesn't that mean anything to you?!"

"Enchanted cape... Safety scissors... One grain of rice... Common spell-card... Needle... Common spell-card..."

Youmu groaned and slumped down on the pile of boxes. "Ohhh, forget it! Just forget it..."

"Common spell-card... Power tablet... Bomb piece... Bread roll... Shell... Little rag-doll..." Jo'on abruptly turned angry as she pulled out another sparkly purple spell-card. "What in the name of-?! Divine Virtues of Wind God AGAIN?! I don't believe this!" She tore the spell-card apart and scattered it on the wind. The scraps burned up as they fell, leaving trails of acrid purple smoke.

[justasmalltowngirl-posts-blog]

CHAPTER FOUR.

A couple of days went by before I went back to the shop. Alain was very apologetic when I told him that I needed to leave for a few days for my grandmother’s funeral. He was able to share with me a similar situation when his mother passed away and it was easier for me to go through this difficult time when someone can understand where I’m coming from. I decided to tattoo all day before leaving this weekend. Drawing brings me away from negative energy and especially to get away from times like this. I’ve been receiving tons of messages on Instagram, Facebook and Snapchat with post that I’ve put out to the public with my grandmother. This waive of love is giving me a warm hug and I’m very thankful for that. I took a few walk-ins for small or big tattoos, it doesn’t matter for today and gradually, those clients we’re able to change my mind and share their grief experience with me. I think I’m prepared to face this dark day and take one day at a time and let myself know that she’s happy where she’s at and her pain is finally gone forever.

I took a break to go get something to eat near the tattoo shop. This vegan place is so good and I love the beyond meat burgers that they have and everything is homemade. Yes, it is a bit expensive, but when I want something good and healthy, I go there. I place my order for to go because I wanted to continue this big project I started this morning before my first client. I usually don’t eat at the shop for sanitary reasons, but today, I’m making an exception. I didn’t even open the door to enter the shop that I was surprise to see Tyler talking with Alain near the front desk. He has this type of shirt who was showing all the details of his upper body. Those muscles, his abs and those tattoos, oh my lord, I’m gonna lose my mind over that kid. I push the door with my left hip and I gave him a little smile.

 “Wow! That smell’s so good. Can I taste...”

 Alain tried to sneak in my bag to grab some fries and give a little slap on the top of his fingers so back off.

 “Hey, no touchy. I know how sneaky you are little Fries stiller.” I said with a corner smile and I turn my attention to Tyler with my left hand on my hip.

 “Hey beautiful.”

 “Hey…”

 “How you feelin’?”

 “I’m OK. I mean, I guess I will pass through all that. It’s just, I wonder if it’s because I was not around enough or she didn’t wanted to tell anyone that she was sick but…”

 “Hey come here.” Said Tyler with is arms wide open.

 I wasn’t sure if it was a friendly hug or not. I wanted to think otherwise but I enjoy the moment of being in the arms of somebody else and especially Tyler’s. He was warm and was giving me chills. I do have a low body temperature, but nothing major to bring me to the hospital and no, I’m not a vampire. Even if I wish to be one sometimes, but I’m not. I took a few steps back and catch his beautiful dark brown eyes. This feeling that I’m having right now is very different. It’s like he gave me this vision of what would it look like in the future me and… him. Just the way he was holding me in his arms and how he was touching me, it was like electricity rushing threw my veins. I look at him with a smile and he started to mention that he wanted to start a chest piece. Lord, Jesus take the wheel I’m over my head right now with this idea and seeing him with no shirt on, if I had a mic in my end, I’ll drop it. I took of a few ideas he had saved in is phone and I brought him to my station to make some measurements. I put a side my lunch who was smelling so good in my office and my stomach was starting to give me this weird burning feeling when you didn’t eat for a few hours. I wanted to take my time with Tyler and spend some time with him and just enjoy is presents here. I was even surprise to see him here, but I’m also very present on social media. In the end, it was not very surprising to be honest.

I took a little measuring tape from my desk and face him to analyse is chest.

 “Can you take off your shirt please?” I ask very fast with my voice who was cracking.

 I was biting my bottom lip so hard while seeing him taking of is Under Armor shirt. My heart was doing 360’s under my sternum and I starting to feel a little bit dizzy. I needed to concentrate to not faint in is perfect muscular arms. It took a few second before I gain back my sense and took a big deep breath before I ask him to put is arms on a 180 degree angle for me to take some measurement.

 “Your hands are ice cold.” Said Tyler while feeling some goose bumps on is skin.

 “I’m sorry. I can put some latex gloves if you want.” I said while looking at him in dark brown eyes.

 “It’s OK. I don’t mind that.” He says with a smile that brought colors to my face.

 I smile at him, a little shy but being with him, it’s like my life here is getting easy. I was done working on his chest and he put back is shirt on before taking a sit on my tattoo chair. A little moment of silences was making things a little bit awkward but I was not feeling uncomfortable about it.

 “Are you leaving just for the weekend?”

 “No, I’m taking a week off. My plans are a bit different now because I was supposed to leave in two weeks for her birthday actually, but anyway… I wish I was seeing my family in a different matter.”

 He nodded a little with a smile. I pressed my chin on my left fist and excel heavily. I’m having second thoughts about those days I’m gonna spend in Ottawa and I shouldn’t but I can’t help it. I guess I’m not only one in my family with weird thoughts because it’s never easy and what is even stupid it’s that we gonna back on our normal routine. We gonna take back life like that nothing never happen, but there will be always this little soft spot for this memory who will never leave us. Some people take it the good way and others, it can be confusions, weird or they can be hangry all their lives. For my part, its confusion and it’s gonna be weird to not see her. Pictures will always bring back the best memories that I have with her. I’m proud to say that she’s my grandmother.

 “I feel you and I think a beautiful girl like needs to be happy all the time and I was wondering, since I have the day off today, would you like to go for dinner tonight?”

 This question sound like I won a million dollars at the lottery. How can I be that lucky? It’s like it’s not even a real question who was just ask and my little angel on my right shoulder was beating my little devil on left shoulder to push to say yes. I don’t care if make other girls being jealous because oh Lord, it’s a gigantic YES!

“Well, that will be fantastic. It’s a yes.” I said with a big smile.

 The reaction of Tyler priceless. He was like a little kid in candy store, very excited to get what he wants but the feelings I have every time I see him and talk to him, it’s always positive. It’s like I knew him before and he understands me on a lot of things.

 “Text me your address, I will come get you at 7PM tonight.” He said standing up before leaving my office.

 I gave him a wink with a big smile. I was happy yes and very excited about that special night. I texted right away my home address before I put my head back on my project. I wanted to finish at least 90% of it before leaving for the rest of the day. I must say I was a bit nervous, but nothing major. It’s normal to be nervous and it’s a reaction that with cannot control at 100% and the last time I was on a date, it was not that pretty. I still have nightmares about that night and I just wish I never met that man.

 ***

  I was more and more nervous about tonight. I’ve spent almost an hour to choose the right outfit and still, I’m having second thoughts about it because I don’t even know where we are going. I was wearing a black strapless jump suit with a pair of gold Michael Kors sandals. It was a very simple look with my air loose brushed on one side. My air was wavy and shiny with the glitter who was in my shampoo. I only use that shampoo for good reasons and tonight was a very excuse to use it. I wanted to go out without make up, but I decided to draw a very simple black line on my eye leads to pop out my eyes even more. No more no less and Tyler just texted me that he was in front of my apartment building. I took a deep breath before going out of my apartment. I make sure that the door is locked before I leave. I keep telling myself that I’m strong and confidante and I didn’t need to be afraid of anything. I know that nothing bad will happen with him. I just need to trust him.

[shimmershaewrites]

Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 21 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).

Title: Waltzing's for Dreamers

Rating:  PG, maybe. 

Warnings:  some angst. 

Characters/Pairings:  Carol/Daryl, Lori/Rick, Sophia Peletier, Carl Grimes, Glenn Rhee, mentions of Andrea Harrison, Philip Blake, Tara Chambler, T-Dog, Shane Walsh, Michonne, Ed Peletier, Merle Dixon. 

 Excuse any typos and the generalized suckiness of this chapter.  I kinda hate it, but maybe you'll find some redeeming qualities, lol.  This chapter brought to you by the power of insomnia. 

   Waltzing’s for Dreamers

    Seven years after Vegas.  Late May. 

      It’s muggy outside.  Downright sticky. 

  Nothing all that unusual for Georgia in the month of May and yet?  When Carol ducks into the quiet coolness of Rick and Lori’s half bath, she’s shocked at the state of her hair.  Frizzy and more than a little wild, it’s 90’s era Julia Roberts big, and there’s no taming it.  Not really.  So she doesn’t even bother.  Just tucks it behind her ears and wanders into the kitchen.  Looks for something to occupy her time, some small way she can help her friend.  Lori was kind enough to host this annual shindig, after all, and if it comes with the added bonus of shielding her from a certain impenetrable blue gaze?  Well, then.  All the better.   Unfortunately, her method of distraction is short-lived.  She stills her restless hands on the kitchen counter when she hears the telltale shuffle of tired feet and an unmistakable sigh.  The babbling apology that’s sincere, yes.  But not entirely true. 

  “Carol.  Sweetie, I’m so sorry.  Rick invited him.  I found out when you did.” 

  Lori’s all baby belly and quite possibly the only person more miserable today than Carol herself, so she lets the slight fudging of the truth slide.  For the time being anyway.  Offers her friend a thin flicker of a smile as she lets her off the hook.  Starts rearranging all the forks and spoons before her into neat rows.  “It’s okay.” 

  “Is it?  Really?”

  Carol stops fiddling with the plastic silverware and meets her friend’s earnest brown eyes.  Releases a sigh of her own then half-mumbles a response that’s entirely unconvincing.  “Gotta be.”  She’s not lying, even if her delivery is somewhat lacking.  Couldn’t even if she wanted to, not to Lori.  Everything has to be okay.  She has to be okay because Daryl’s decided to stay.  Replant some roots and get to know the beautiful little soul he helped create.  It’s what she’d wanted when she had Michonne draw up those papers for her, the ones that offered him a place in their son’s life if he desired it.  Sophia’s too, if that’s what her sensitive, headstrong little girl wished.  Free and clear of any restrictions.  It’s what she’d hoped for.  Still.  Wanting something and actually being prepared for the reality of it?  Two different animals altogether.  Surviving the rest of the school year had been nothing compared to this.  All of the stress and second guessing must show on her face because Lori’s crossing the room and opening her arms, cooing sympathetically, and Carol’s all but crumpling at the gesture of sisterly concern. 

  “Oh, Honey.  Come here.” 

  Her friend’s hug is awkward but heartfelt and Carol laughs, gathering tears be damned, when the baby trapped between them kicks on cue, doing wonders for her mood and reminding her to get over mopey self.  Pulling back, she places her palms over Lori’s swollen belly and smiles.  “Hi, Sweetheart.  Nap-time over?” 

  “Nap-time?” Lori rolls her eyes with a grin.  “What is this nap-time you speak of?  This little one,” she says, pausing to direct Carol’s hand to the insistent press of a little foot before continuing, “she never sleeps.” 

  “She?  I thought you and Rick wanted to be surprised.” 

  “Carl,” Lori corrects her.  “Carl wants to be surprised.  Rick and I, well.  We’re humoring him.  Besides.  What’s one more surprise?  Right?” she quips, absently following the movements of her child with her hand still covering Carol’s hand before eventually letting it go.   

  “She, though?”  Pulling out the nearest barstool, she nudges her friend until she takes a seat.  Encourages her to kick off her sandals before doing the same.  She drops into the seat next to her and curls her pink-tipped toes around the rung of the stool, props her chin in her hand as her gaze flits back to Lori.  Smirks before allowing another question to tumble free.  “You sure you haven’t peeked?”   

  “I hope that’s not an accusation.” 

  “Sheesh.  Guilty much?”  Giddy, girlish laughter peels from Carol’s lips at the wide eyed, open mouthed expression that accompanies that statement.  “Relax.  I’m just kidding.  Mostly.”  When Lori snorts at that little addendum, she loses all composure again.  They both do.  Especially when Rick walks into the kitchen and promptly backpedals, his hands held up signaling his ultimate surrender to his wife’s current mood, whatever that may be.  They’re so unpredictable these days.  “Poor Rick,” she muses. 

  “Listen to you.  Poor Rick.  Mostly.  Some friend you are.” 

  The words are meant to tease, but Carol takes them to heart.  Sobers.  Thinks about how much she’s relied on the two of them, Lori and Rick.  Oh, Michonne was there.  Andrea, too, to a lesser extent.  But Lori and Rick?  She’s leaned hard on them.  The last few years especially, finding herself right back in a position she never thought she’d be in again:  single parenthood.  Rearing a helpless baby boy and trying her best to put a heartbroken little girl back together.  And it feels selfish, to keep dumping her wonders and woes on them when Daryl’s back in the picture.  Because Carl’s birth had been a difficult one and this pregnancy hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk.  They have their own worries that they hide behind braves faces and here she is.  Letting herself drown without even attempting to save herself and swim toward the shore.  “Yeah.  Some friend.” 

  “Hey,” Lori softly entreats.  “You know I’m kidding, right?” 

  “And I’m just being melodramatic.” 

  “Seriously?  Is your name Andrea?  Because her life is a complete soap opera.” 

  Carol looks up in surprise.  It’s the first time in more than a month that anybody has been bold enough to even utter Andrea’s name in her presence and Lori does it so casually she almost forgets the residual anger that makes her clench her hands into tight fists.  Makes her gut churn and her heart beat hot and heavy behind her breastbone.  Makes her throat go dry and her tongue feel too thick in her mouth and she’s reminded anew of the faces that are missing from the day’s backyard celebration.  “Lori.” 

  “She didn’t have the right to do what she did.  You and Daryl…” 

  “Might have still ended up apart.  We might have,” she insists.  “Merle is his brother and Daryl loves him.  More than anything in this world.” 

  “Not anything.  Not you and Sophia and…” 

  Pushing back from the bar, Carol stands up.  Cuts her off before she can say anything more.  Paces around the kitchen that suddenly feels less like a safe haven and more like a trap.  Its walls closing in and the oxygen growing thin because it would seem that pregnancy has obliterated whatever semblance of a filter Lori might have claimed in the past.  She’s stubbornly determined to lance all of Carol’s festering wounds.  Expose them and let them breathe.  Force them to heal when she would be just as content to keep the band-aids on a little while longer.  “Daryl has his code.  Merle needed him.  He nearly died in that wreck.” 

  “And whose fault is that?” Lori mutters.  More to herself than anything. 

  Carol answers her anyway.  Wearily but with conviction.  “I’m not arguing culpability with you.  I’m not.  What happened?  Happened.  Daryl chose his brother.  And, he chose him before Andrea ever put those divorce papers in his hands.”     

  “Divorce papers that he never finished signing.  Divorce papers that were never filed.” 

  The pointed reminder does what it’s designed to do.  It renders Carol temporarily mute as her friend launches into a passionate dissertation of the so-called facts as she sees them and to be honest?  Her viewpoint strikes an uncomfortable chord. 

  “Merle needed him, but you needed him more.  Only he didn’t know that, did he?  He thought you wanted nothing to do with him because Andrea saw her chance and she seized it.  Anything to assuage her guilt.  Think about it, Carol.  Who pushed the hardest for you and Daryl to stay married in the first place?  Andrea.  She thought it would get Ed off your back and for the most part?  It did.  For a while anyway.  But we all knew he was a cockroach so that’s beside the point.  The point being she felt responsible, even before she got mixed up with that scumbag Blake.  The good and the bad.  She felt like it was her doing.” 

  “Lori.” 

  “No,” Lori shakes her head.  “Let me finish.  Sweetie, you need to hear this, whether you want to or not.”    

  Carol doesn’t tell her she’s rehashing old news.  That would take more energy than she possesses, at least in that exact moment.  So she just stands there and takes it.  Listens in the hopes that this is it.  The last time she’s confronted with the mistakes of her past.  She relents.  “Fine.”    

  “Merle did nearly die in that wreck.  And it was awful and scary and you were a basket case, remember?” 

  She merely nods.  Of course, she remembers.  She couldn’t forget if she wanted to because the unrelenting worry she’d felt for her husband and her troubled brother-in-law had landed her in a hospital bed just two floors removed, with monitors hooked up to her and alarms shrieking and keeping her on constant edge.  It’d been one of the scariest experiences she’d ever endured and she’d endured it largely alone.  Only in the last couple of months had she found out why and it had been worse than her desperate imaginings. 

  “You were a basket case.  Worried sick for Merle and for Daryl and then you ended up in the hospital yourself.  That was Andrea’s tipping point.” 

  “I don’t…” 

  “She suspected Blake had played a part in Merle’s accident even then and she felt guilty.  Irrationally guilty.  So irrationally guilty, she decided to make things right.  Only she went about it completely the wrong way because all she managed to do was screw things up even more.  I’m still fuzzy on the details, but somehow, when Daryl finally surfaced from Merle’s bedside and was told what had happened with you and the baby, he assumed the worst.  He assumed…” 

  “I know what he assumed.  I know what Andrea let him assume.  What she told him in some misguided effort to protect me and the kids and I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Lori.  The past is in the past.  It can’t be changed and I’m tired of dwelling on it.” 

  “But don’t you want to make sense of it?” 

  “Sense of it?  Lori, Andrea said so herself.  She was clear on one thing and one thing only.”   

  “Ain’t no makin’ sense of it.” 

  Carol’s agitated steps stutter to a stop and her eyes lock with those of the man who, for all intents and purposes, is still her husband because there’s another set of divorce papers out there that he’s holding onto.  A set she’d had drawn up and left for him, along with a simple band of gold.  Irony of all ironies, history is repeating itself.  Only this time, her signature’s lacking and she hasn’t stopped running long enough to do anything about it.  She’s afraid of what will happen if she does.  Doesn’t know if she has it in herself to be brave enough to find out.  She’s done that once before, gone against her own nature.  Walked the safe route and tried for a while to pretend she had what she wanted and needed in her ill-fated relationship with Tobin, but the truth was?  It’d always had an expiration date and deep down?  She’d known it.  That said, she’s going to need a helluva lot more convincing to take that kind of risk with her heart again and one of the most important reasons for her reticence is standing less than five feet away.   But maybe it’s time to take a chance. 

  “Mama?”  Sophia eyes them all with suspicion. 

  “Sophia?”  Lori attempts to divert the little girl’s attention.  “Where’s your brother?” 

  The forthcoming answer is polite and to the point.  Distracted as she zeroes in on Carol’s face.  “Outside.  With Tara and Uncle T.” 

  Mercifully oblivious, Carl is intent on seeking his mother out with a problem he claims is life and death.  As only an adolescent can. 

  Before Lori has a chance to excuse herself, Glenn arrives to save the day.  Reading the tension fraught room and taking the preoccupied boy by the shoulders.  Steering him back the way he’d come.    

  “Cool!  Really?  How’d you know what to do?” 

  “Sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy.” 

  “Mama,” Sophia persists.  “What’s going on?” 

  Barely a glance from Carol, and Lori’s sliding from her seat.  Forcing her swollen feet back into her sandals and grabbing a pitcher of lemonade from the counter, not even giving Sophia a chance to protest before all but pushing it into her small, fidgeting hands.  “How are those burgers coming?  Shane and Rick fighting over the grill again?” 

  “Yes, Ma’am.  But…” 

  “I bet everybody’s thirsty.” 

  “But…” 

  “Thank you so much for your help, Sweetie,” Lori declares with exaggerated cheerfulness as she nudges the child forward.  “Carl and the rest of the guys are just useless.”

  Finally, they hear the patio door shut, and it’s just the two of them and Carol has nowhere left to run.  At least that’s what she tells herself as she takes a deep, fortifying breath.  Straightens to her full height and meets Daryl’s narrowed blue gaze head on. 

  “What’s this all about?” 

  “You and me.”  She takes a step closer and another.  The distance between them makes her ache, makes it hard for her to expand her lungs and find her voice. 

  “Me and you?  You said…”

  She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear her own words echoed back to her.  They’d hurt plenty enough saying them.  Hearing them the first time.  “You were right.  Nobody knows me like you do.  Nobody has.  Nobody ever will.” 

  “Hell you playin’ at here?  Cruel to give a man hope where there ain’t none.” 

  This time, he takes a step closer and it’s all Carol can do to stand her ground.  Her heart’s in her throat and it feels like it’s grown wings.  Feels like it’s going to take flight without her consent and that’s a terrifying proposition because what if it falls again?  What if it plummets back to Earth and she shatters into a million tiny, unrecognizable pieces?  But oh.  What if it flies?  What if…

  “Carol.” 

  His hands are on her face and they’re so gentle, so careful, and shit.  She’s crying.  When did that happen? 

  “Just me.” 

  “I know.” 

  “Can tell me anything.  Anything.” 

  “You really mean that, don’t you?” 

  “Do.” 

  “Can tell me to crawl straight back to Hell, need be.  Be a short trip but I’ll take it if that’s what you’re askin’.  Just…” 

  His scruff is rough beneath the pads of her thumbs but his mouth is soft and it trembles when she silences him with her own careful touch.  “Daryl?” 

  “Yeah?” he rumbles.                                           

  “I never stopped.”  His eyes spark with a hope so pure it’s painful at those simple words, and she knows he knows what she’s talking about.  Knows he remembers that conversation on that crumbling porch.  Knows he recalls the sweet heavy mist of the falling rain as they made love, but she doesn’t want there to be any lingering doubts.  So she says it again.  Murmurs it as a promise.  “I never stopped and I never will.”

  “Me and you?” 

                                                                               “Trying.  That’s all I can promise.” 

  “All I want, Sweetheart.  All I need.”