#usually the cousins on one side of my family have a gathering over the summer and i do not like them lol

[toastspirit]

while i do not like my job, holy shit i am so glad that i finally have a plausible excuse to get out of my extended family's yearly gatherings

[fairuzfan]

Also really quickly, I wanted to mention that usually while the women are at the Henna Night, the men have their own gathering. Sahraa Al Zalame (closest I can translate is "staying up at night/gathering, men") takes place at the grooms home/village, and usually set up outdoors, there's a music singer/group or DJ, sometimes a dancing group is hired, there's sweets and drinks and lots of men just having a great time dancing/socializing. One memory I have is when I spent time on a nearby roof with my girl cousins watching as little boys lit up small fireworks, old men smoked and played cards, hookahs, coffee, sweets, fathers hold their babies & small boys, the young men dancing. The Groom and his friends/family lifting him up in the air. I love seeing how our men are celebrated and made to feel part of the wedding celebration in their own way, and of course the Shaving of the Groom. Days before the Wedding the Groom will stop shaving so he looks unkempt, then on that night they have a barber, or friend/family, who shaves the Groom's beard (sometimes old fashioned razor with the long blade are used sometimes modern ones) as he sits in a chair while others are around him in circle, the singer sings "it's time to shave the groom, he must be (Am Nouweer) lit up/glowing for his wedding, shave the groom, he is the most handsome of men" and other lyrics that often vary from family/region. I find it a very charming tradition that shows how just as the bride is going through her own transition from girl to womanhood, so is the groom transitioning from boy to manhood. Also when the groom's family douses him in shaving cream at the end sometimes its really funny. lol. But yeah Henna Night is exclusively for women, but the Sharaa is for men but sometimes women from the groom's side are in attendance too. It just depends on the family tbh. If the Bride and Groom are from the same village/town then some nights we would be at the Bride's for the Henna then walk over to Groom's house to watch the Sahraa of the men. I miss those summer nights because the feeling of celebration and community was so strong and beautiful. Anyways this is long, but I love our wedding traditions.

End.

omg i love these wedding traditions sooooo much. thank you so much for sharing i love learning about this.

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'd like to see more of the Jiang Cheng has spider venom fic. Mostly because I want to see him bite someone else. How about a Jin?

Normal For the Spider - Extra: 5 People Jiang Cheng Bit, Some of Whom Deserved It

ao3

1 – Wei Wuxian

“So I’ve been exchanging letters with shijie on account of the whole theoretically banished business,” Wei Wuxian said as they strolled down the Qiongqi Path together, Wen Ning behind them making shy stuttering friends with the handful of Jiang sect disciples Jiang Cheng had brought along with him – he’d deliberately picked the friendliest and most social of the lot, the ones that acted like overgrown puppies and wanted to adopt everyone they met, and sure enough they’d mobbed Wen Ning like a bunch of crows intent on raising the poor little sparrow they found into a proper bird. It was no more than Wen Ning deserved, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion. Someone needed to socialize him, and clearly neither his sister nor Wei Wuxian were doing crap about it.

“That’s nice,” Jiang Cheng said. “If by nice you mean extremely suspicious. What about in particular?”

“Your family inheritance.”

“Is this about the summer house we have near that mountain lake? I told you, it’s been deserted for years and may possibly be haunted by something resistant to the usual liberation techniques, but if you really want to go there, you’re of course allowed…”

“That’s not the inheritance I meant and you know it.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He did know it. “What questions do you have now?” he asked. “More medical stuff from Wen Qing?”

She’d recovered from the venom very well and immediately started wanting to know everything. Recovered a little too well, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion.

“No, this one’s for me,” Wei Wuxian said. “We’re going to Lanling City in order to let Jin Ling bite me as a way to establish familial ties and let him ‘absorb’ good aspects from my personality, right?”

Jiang Cheng nodded.

“So in some cases, biting is an act of affection?”

Jiang Cheng nodded, a little more warily.

“Then how come you’ve never bitten me?”

“It’s only affectionate when you’re a baby,” Jiang Cheng said. “Once you grow into your childhood venom, it starts being dangerous, even to family; you don’t do affection-bites after that point. And when you’re an adult…well, you saw Wen Qing!”

“Eh, she’s fine now,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “I feel like I missed out! It’s not fair, Jiang Cheng. I deserve a bite! I’m practically your brother! We share essential bodily organs!”

“Wei Wuxian! Don’t talk about that!”

“Bite me and I’ll stop.”

“I’m not biting you just to make you stop being annoying –”

2 – Jin Zixun

“What are you doing here?!” Jiang Cheng demanded. “This is an ambush! Is the Jin sect considering waging an act of war against the Jiang sect?”

Jin Zixun scowled at him. “Not against the Jiang sect,” he said haughtily. “Against the Yiling Patriarch.”

“He’s my head disciple!”

That got a confused sort of frown. “But you banished him…?”

“Rumor,” Jiang Cheng said, with dignity, the way they’d always planned. “Baseless rumor, that’s all.”

Rumor he’d never denied, and had instead implicitly encouraged so that people would leave his Jiang sect alone for a little while as he gathered up strength and resources to tell them to fuck off.

“But…” Jin Zixun hesitated. “You just – attacked him?”

Jiang Cheng glared at Wei Wuxian, still lying prone on the ground with his head in Wen Ning’s lap to elevate it and his neck bandaged but still a little red – surely the paralytic had worn off by now?

Wei Wuxian noticed him staring and gave a jaunty little wave, grinning and very clearly regretting nothing, which meant that the paralytic had worn off and he was just lying there to be comfortable while watching the fun.

Typical.

“A friendly exchange,” he said, trying to maintain his dignity. “Also? Not the Jin sect’s business. What about you? What did you want with him?”

“I want him to remove the curse he cast on me,” Jin Zixun said, and he strode forward before Jiang Cheng could stop him and kicked Wei Wuxian in the side. “You hear me, you bastard?! I want the damn thing gone this instant or else –”

3 – Wen Ning

“So this is going to be a little awkward to explain,” Jin Zixuan said, rubbing his face. He looked tired, but that was possibly a side-effect of having Jin Zixun as a cousin. “Tell me, why are my cousin’s flunkies – er, I mean, my cousin’s friends convinced that it was Wen Ning that poisoned him?”

Jiang Cheng scowled.

“No offense meant,” Jin Zixuan added, nodding politely to Wen Ning. “It’s just, you know, you’re very much not a Yu, or even a Jiang.”

“No offense taken,” Wen Ning mumbled, though to Jiang Cheng’s eyes he looked a little pleased, even if his stiff wooden face still didn’t do emotions all that well. “It’s nice not to be automatically feared.”

“It’s because Wen Ning punched Jin Zixun in the face at the same moment that I bit him,” Jiang Cheng interjected, because someone needed to answer the actual question. “And then Jin Zixun fell over and someone started shouting about corpse poison – even though he’s obviously turned purple! Purple venom, purple spider, purple lightning…what part of this thematic color scheme is not obvious?!”

“Technically, the livor mortis spots generated by corpse poison are also purple,” Wei Wuxian said, completely unhelpfully. “According to Wen Qing, it’s the lack of oxygen in the blood pooling under the skin or something, which is the same thing your mom’s poison does.”

“Do you think you’re helping?” Jiang Cheng demanded.

“No, not at all. Did I sound like I was helping? I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m going to bite you again, you little…”

“My father isn’t going to want to let Wen Ning through the door if he’s considered a possible threat,” Jin Zixuan said, wisely deciding to carry on with the conversation despite their bickering. “You know he’s been saying all those things about how dangerous the Yiling Patriarch is – this’ll just feed into that.”

“I’m not going to Lanling City without Wen Ning!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Wen Qing made me promise! It’s his first time visiting such a big place, too!”

“I’m pretty sure Wen Qing made you promise not to leave him behind because she was worried about your well-being, not Wen Ning’s ability to be a tourist,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Doesn’t matter! I’m not leaving him, and I’m definitely not going to not attend the party, so you have to fix this!”

“I don’t know how to fix this –”

Wen Ning coughed lightly. “Uh,” he said. “Jin-gongzi…would your father let me in if I wasn’t a threat? Say, if I was unconscious?”

A moment of silence.

“…does venom work even on fierce corpses?”

“Of course it does,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. “It wouldn’t be much of a defense mechanism for a cultivator if it didn’t.”

4 – Jin Guangshan

“I didn’t mean to!” Jiang Cheng said, his hands over his mouth. “I really didn’t mean to! It’s Wei Wuxian’s fault!”

“How is this my fault?!” Wei Wuxian asked. He looked amused, which was never a good sign, and even less so given the extreme crisis of the situation. “I wasn’t even in the room.”

“You encouraged me to keep biting people as a solution to everything!” Jiang Cheng hissed. “It got me in the mood. I wasn’t thinking!”

He looked down at the unconscious (and swiftly purpling) Jin Guangshan and grimaced. There was no convenient Wen Ning to put the blame on this time: it had been just the two of them, Jin Guangshan and Jiang Cheng, alone in a room together. Jin Guangshan had wanted to have words with him, sect leader to sect leader, which mostly meant that he wanted to throw his weight and seniority around to try to brow-beat Jiang Cheng into doing what he wanted, except that wasn’t going to work because Jiang Cheng was prepared, okay, he’d worked so long and so hard to try to build up the Jiang sect until it could resist Jin sect pressure.

And he’d probably just ruined everything.

“He has legitimate grounds to declare war against us now,” Jiang Cheng said miserably. “Or maybe to demand that we hand over that stupid Tiger Seal he keeps bugging you about as reparations, or in order to keep him from declaring war…”

“We can’t let him have it,” Wei Wuxian said at once. “It’s far too dangerous. I’d destroy it, first.”

“But then he’d still have a reason to strike against us…”

There was the soft sound of someone clearing their throat, and at first Jiang Cheng thought it was Wen Ning but when he looked up it was Jin Guangyao, instead. He looked the same as always, gentle and personable and smiling, which struck Jiang Cheng as being unaccountably weird for some reason that he couldn’t figure out until he remembered that the man’s father was currently lying on the ground being poisoned and maybe Jin Guangyao shouldn’t be smiling so much.

“If you don’t mind,” Jin Guangyao said, “I might have a suggestion that would get rid of that problem…”

5 – Wen Qing

“…and long story short, Jin Guangyao is going to run Lanling Jin until Jin Zixuan is done having kids, which may be never based on the soppy looks he and my shijie keep exchanging, and we all have the Jin sect’s blessing to move back into the Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian concluded. “All’s well that ends well, right, Jiang Cheng?”

Jiang Cheng crossed his arms and glared, admitting nothing.

“I’ll be happy to move anywhere that has decent food,” Wen Qing remarked. “This damn place won’t even grow radishes properly, and it’s Yiling; the radishes should be practically growing themselves.”

“I’ve arranged for some farmland for your people,” Jiang Cheng said, because practicalities he could do. “There’s still lots left over from before the war, lying fallow, and some of the places are medicinal herb fields – we need people with cultivation to tend to those, so I figured that might work for you. You’d have half regular farmland, to make sure you can grow whatever food you feel you need to be comfortable, and the other half, the herbs, can be sold to the Jiang sect at profit.”

“That sounds good,” Wen Qing said.

“Especially since they’re medicinal herb plants,” Wei Wuxian chimed in. “You could stock up on medicines you need!”

“A lot of medicines have to be obtained through trade, you utter nincompoop! I can’t make medicine just using what a single medicinal herb field will generate!”

Jiang Cheng nodded approvingly, thinking to himself that at least there was someone else in the world who understood exactly how aggravating it was to have to deal with Wei Wuxian’s unbridled and illogical optimism on a regular basis.

“And as for you,” Wen Qing said, turning to Jiang Cheng, who blinked owlishly at her. “Don’t think I missed the part of that story about how biting people is a sign of affection!”

“It’s – what?! No, you don’t – that’s when we’re children– it’s –”

Wei Wuxian started cackling.

[marauderundercover]

A Guide to Love and Coffee in the City of Crime: Ch. 1

Here Comes the Sun

AO3

For as long as she could remember, Marinette had spent one month every summer with her family in the states. Although they weren’t related by blood, they were still as close as any family could be. Her nona had met the Kents years ago, even before her Papa was born, and had grown close with them. A couple of years after her Papa was born, the Kents had their son, her Uncle Clark. Her Papa had practically grown up with Clark as his little brother. So it just made sense that, as the family continued to grow, they kept in contact. Like when Marinette was the first grandchild. And then Jon, the first grandson. And when Conner came into their lives (something that still confused Marinette). Although Conner’s introduction into the family was much later than hers and Jon, he wasn’t any less a part of their family. They cared about each other. All of them. So they wrote to each other. And had plenty of video calls throughout the year. And sent presents. And had family gatherings. Like the annual trip to Smallville. Usually, Marinette’s family (most times, even her nona would come for a few days) would spend two weeks of the summer with her Grandma and Grandpa Kent in Smallville. This year, however, was different. For the first summer ever, Marinette would be following her cousins and Aunt and Uncle back to Metropolis to spend some more of her summer outside of Paris. Her parents claimed it was to give her a break from the drama in Paris. It was also to give her a break from akuma attacks (in their minds, anyway). No matter how much she cared for her extended family, she knew she couldn’t tell them about the Paris situation. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that her family wasn’t exactly normal. And even though she wasn’t exactly sure what it was that was different, she didn’t need her Uncle Clark to get overprotective (and angry) and get akumatized. That would be the opposite of a solution.

So instead of letting the stress of the Paris situation get to her, Marinette decides to relish the time with her family. She only got to spend time on the farm once a year, after all. Might as well make the most of it while she could.

“Mari, Mari, Mari!” Marinette’s pulled out of her thoughts by her younger cousin running over to her, practically vibrating with excitement. She grins, ruffling his hair.

“What?” She asks, laughing. He grins widely.

“You remember how Dad said we would be back in Metropolis in time for the annual 4th of July fireworks show put on by Superman?” He asks. She nods. “Well my best friend gets to come and you finally get to meet him!” Marinette just grins, happy to see the kid so genuinely happy.

“That’s only if we survive the road trip back.” She reminds him. He looks at her, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re not really gonna try and bug Kon the entire way back are you?” He asks with a sigh. Marinette shrugs, grinning.

“He’s basically my big brother too. And I haven’t had my entire life to annoy him like you did mine. So I have to make up for lost time.” She says. Jon pouts. “Please Mari! Please don’t annoy him too badly!” He pleads. Marinette sighs dramatically, but decides to take pity on the kid.

“Fine. I guess I could promise to be on my best behavior.” She says. He relaxes. “If...”

“If what?” Jon asks, looking suspicious. Marinette grins.

“If you can convince Grandma to get Uncle Clark to stop bugging me about the surprise I have. It’s not much of a surprise if you guys figure it out ahead of time.” She bargains. Jon tilts his head to the side, almost as if he’s listening, before nodding.

“Deal. But that includes playing songs that you know he hates.” Jon says firmly. Marinette immediately agrees. She’d have plenty of time to annoy Conner once they were actually in Metropolis.

---

The second the car stopped at the park, Marinette threw herself out of the car and onto the ground dramatically. She waits until her Uncle has moved from the driver’s seat to where he can see her, before she starts acting like she’s hugging the ground.

“Land!” She cries, stifling a laugh at Jon’s giggles.

“I’m not that bad of a driver!” Uncle Clark protests. Marinette sits up and makes eye contact with him, raising an eyebrow. He huffs. “Lois?” He asks. Marinette snorts as her aunt shrugs.

“I love you, but I’m going to have to agree with Marinette on this one.” She says, turning and winking at her before moving to the back of the car. Marinette spots Conner getting out of the car and raises her arms up.

“Help!” She calls, grinning as he huffs, but still walks over and grabs her hands, helping her into a standing position. She grins. “Thanks!” She says, walking over to help her aunt grab the picnic basket and other stuff they’d brought. Although it wasn’t a holiday that most French citizens celebrated, the 4th of July was one of Marinette’s favorite holidays. Mostly because she was usually with her extended family either on the actual day, or close enough that they still celebrated it. Cracking open the picnic basket, Marinette grins at the sight of her Grandma’s famous apple pie. She’d been kind enough to make an extra one for them to bring home (not that it would last past today with her cousins and Uncle eating it).

“Hey Mari, could you grab the basket?” Her aunt asks, trying to balance the bag of sparklers and all of the blankets. Marinette nods with a smile, grabbing the basket and stumbling slightly as she adjusts it.

“You got it M?” Conner asks, his hands almost empty. Marinette nods though, determined to carry the basket herself.

“Let's move out, men.” She commands, grinning as Jon immediately falls into line. She quirks an eyebrow at Conner, who rolls his eyes before falling in line behind his little brother. “Forward, march!” She calls, moving quickly so that she could catch up with her aunt. She catches Lois’ eyes as she glances back, snorting softly at the sight. Marinette just grins, the happiness and safety she felt in her heart leaving her to feel relaxed overall. With the help of the kwamis, she’d managed to make it so that Hawkmoth couldn’t release an akuma for an entire month. The spell was complicated, and had made her sick for an entire week, but it was worth it. It meant she was able to enjoy an akuma free summer with her family doing silly things, like marching around a park to prepare to watch a huge fireworks display. Marinette breathes out a sigh of relief when Lois finally stops and starts laying out the blankets. A soft poke on her arm makes her turn, quirking an eyebrow at Conner.

“Want me to take that?” He asks, gesturing towards the basket. She purses her lips and shakes her head. Conner sighs. “You carried it all the way over here, trust me, we know you’re strong. Just let me help my baby cousin.” He says, ruffling her hair. Marinette gasps, practically shoving the basket into his hands so that she could fix her hair.

“You’re such a pain sometimes, Conner.” She huffs, readjusting her ponytail and headband. Conner just smirks, making her scowl. She was an only child, so Jon had always been like a little brother to her. Adorable and annoying at times, but easy to boss around (most of the time, and she hasn’t been super bossy since she was twelve). She was also pretty sure that Jon looked up to her, so she always tried to be a good role model (once she got out of her bossy phase). Conner, on the other hand, was very much her older brother. Which meant he was annoying, he picked on her, and was incredibly overprotective. But she wouldn’t trade either of them for anything. They meant the world to her.

“Damian and his family should be here soon!” Jon announces, a wide smile on his face as he practically vibrates with excitement. Marinette smiles.

“Sweet!” She glances around, realizing her uncle was MIA. “Where’s your dad?” She asks, frowning. Jon shrugs.

“Maybe he had a work call. They always seem to be able to tell when Dad’s back in town. Or Mom.” He says solemnly. Marinette suppresses a snort at her cousin’s tone. Jon was never super serious. Overall, he’d always been a pretty happy kid. Which made moments where he acted serious just that much funnier.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me B’s adopting habits rubbed off on Clark.” A voice says, approaching their group. Marinette tenses, but relaxes at the wide smiles on both Conner’s and Jon’s faces. Even her aunt grins at the mystery group of people.

“Bruce! How nice of you to join us.” She says, her voice light and teasing. The oldest man in the group smiles.

“Yes, well, I couldn’t let Damian have all the fun. And I am sponsoring the fireworks after all.” He says with a wide grin.

“Lois, please tell me B didn’t rub off on your husband.” Another man says, a pleading look on his face. Her aunt just laughs.

“Your father is the only serial adopter here, don’t worry about that.” Her aunt says, grinning. Marinette takes the opportunity to step forward slightly, and wave at the group.

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She introduces herself, waving slightly at the group.

“She’s the totally awesome cousin I told you about!” Jon interjects, running to stand right in front of the youngest boy, who Marinette assumed was Jon’s elusive best friend. The boy glances at her, his face unreadable before he says something quietly to Jon who just grins. Feeling completely left out, she glances back at the rest of the group. Who had still not introduced themselves.

“And you are?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow as almost everyone in the group dropped their jaws. Frowning, she moves slightly closer to Conner. “What’d I say?” She asks softly. He snorts.

“They’ve gotten too used to their celebrity status in Gotham.” He says, his voice light and teasing. The guy with a white streak in his hair rolls his eyes.

“Maybe these losers have, but I haven’t. I’m Jason Todd, nice to meet you.” He says. Marinette smiles back, hands twitching slightly at the excess of chaos magic hanging off the group. She’d definitely need to talk to Tikki about it later.

“Likewise.” She says, before glancing at the group around him who had (finally) seemed to put themselves together again.

“Apologies, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I’m Bruce Wayne. These are my sons, Dick Grayson, you met Jason, Tim Drake and Damian Wayne.” The oldest man-Bruce- says, pointing everyone out. Marinette grins, waving lightly. As she makes eye contact with Tim (a name she recognized from some of Conner’s stories), she can’t help but let her smile widen at the slight red on his cheeks. Glancing at Conner, she snorts, seeing the exact moment on his face that he notices the blush. Deciding to save Tim from whatever overprotective rant she was sure Conner would go on, she pokes her older cousin.

“Hey.” She hisses out, poking harder as he refuses to look at her.

“What?” He hisses back, glaring at her. She grins.

“Race you to the swingset.” She says, beginning her run before she even finishes talking. She knew the chances of her losing were good. Her cousins were freakishly fast. What she hadn’t expected, though, was for all of the other guys (except Bruce Wayne) to join in on the chase. Laughing loudly, she pushes harder, determined to at least beat the Wayne boys. She manages to reach the swings just after Jon and Conner, grabbing one of two swings left. She snorts as the Wayne boys throw elbows, and trip each other to try to get the last swing. The rest were so caught up with their little fight, they hadn’t noticed Tim sneak by them and grab the last swing. Marinette turns to him, grinning as she swings.

“Impressive.” She says. Tim grins back, breathing heavily. Marinette issues a challenge to her cousins to see who can swing the highest, laughing loudly at Conner’s pout as he attempts to get the swing to go higher. She lived for moments like these.

---

Once it was fully dark out, (and Superman had already welcomed the crowd) her Uncle Clark came back and dropped onto the picnic blankets (where Lois and Bruce sat) with a huff.

“You okay?” Marinette asks softly, inching forward a bit. He nods, moving his face out of the blanket to smile at her.

“I get to spend the evening with my amazing family and friends. Of course I’m okay, kiddo.” He says. Marinette rolls her eyes, but grins.

“You’re such a sap.” She teases, leaning back onto her blanket. He grumbles, but doesn’t say anything else. Marinette settles onto the blanket (she’d picked the one with Conner, Tim, and Jason; the last one had Damian, Jon and Dick), shivering slightly. It might be summer, but it was dark out and they were close to the water. And she already had strong reactions to the cold thanks to Tikki.

“Would you, uh, do you wanna borrow my jacket?” Tim asks softly. Marinette shakes her head.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t wanna take your jacket-” She starts, but Tim cuts her off.

“It’s not a big deal!” He insists. “I’m not cold or anything, I just brought it for the look.” He says, laughing lightly as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Marinette grins.

“Okay. Well, I’d really appreciate it then, Tim.” She says softly. He nods, immediately slipping the jacket off and passing it to her. She puts it on and immediately sighs in relief at the warmth. She gives him a wide smile. “Thank you.” She says. He nods.

“Yeah, no problem.” He says, his voice light. Marinette smiles, eyes wide as the firework show starts. It was bigger and grander than any show she’d seen before, except for maybe the fireworks display at Disneyland Paris. It was the perfect end to an amazing day.

Next

Story tag list (open): @timari-month-event

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[biggest-stupidhead]

Never Ready (part 2) 

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 4.6K

AN: Sorry for the long wait, I've been very busy this summer but I'm trying to keep writing! Thanks for sticking around you guys :)

find part 1 here

--

Levi woke up early, as usual, however, he skipped his usual workout in favor of deep cleaning the house for the third time this week. Just as he was putting his broom back into the closet when the doorbell rang. He anxiously smoothed out his cotton dress shirt, tugging at the seam as he tried to tuck it into his pants.

“Hello-” His shoulders slumped when he found a young suburban housewife on the other side of the door instead of the gloomy social worker.

“Oh hi there! So sorry that it’s taken me so long but…” She held out a bottle of red wine with a neat ribbon tied around the neck.

“You didn’t have to,” Levi answered tensely as she beamed politely at him.

“I know but...it just felt like the right thing to do.” She shrugged, her strawberry blonde hair swaying, the strands just barely touched her shoulders.

“Well...thank you.” He thanked her, hoping that she would take the hint that this was a bad thing.

“No worries! By the way, my name is Petra, my husband and I live across the street.” She gabbed her thumb towards the house across from his.

“I’m Levi, nice to meet you.” He said, fighting to keep from grinding his teeth. It wasn’t that this woman was in the wrong, no it was simply the timing of her gesture. He was already on edge and he was never a fan of new people.

“Nice to meet you too! If you’re ever interested, we have a book club and-”

“Look, I appreciate the gesture but this isn’t the best time.” Levi cut her off and he felt a small pang of guilt at the way her expression dropped.

“Oh no of course! Anyway, you know where to find me.” She chuckled anxiously as she began her hasty retreat. It couldn’t have been soon enough, because a silver honda accord pulled into his driveway. Levi swallowed thickly as he watched Michelle climb out of her car and brave the icy sidewalk.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” She said curtly as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and waited for Levi to step aside. When she crossed the threshold, he shut and locked the door behind her. She immediately began checking out the front room and the living room. The house had a nice open floorplan, so the first thing that anyone saw when entering was the living room and kitchen.

“Not at all,” Levi responded as she slowly wandered into the kitchen. He followed helplessly behind her as she began jotting notes down on a clipboard.

“Well, I must say that I am impressed with the hast you made these arrangements.” She complimented as she paced down the hallway, poking her head into the room that Levi had prepared for Mikasa.

“I don’t like to leave projects unfinished.” He responded as he waited in the doorway.

“Admirable.” She scribbled a quick note before finding her way back into the kitchen. Levi chewed the inside of his cheek as he waited with bated breath for her next words.

“Everything seems in great condition here. I don’t see any reason that she can’t move in by Monday.” She placed her clipboard on the counter and faced him with a tense smile.

“Monday?” Levi couldn’t hide the nerves in his tone and she smiled genuinely.

“Of course, we try to keep kids out of the homes as much as possible. Have you figured out what you wish to do for child care?” She moved seamlessly onto the next topic and Levi nodded, motioning for her to take a seat at the island.

“Uh, there’s a daycare that I was looking at. I’m also looking for a nanny.” Levi said as she settled into her seat and he sat a chair away from her.

“Excellent, my only concern with the daycare is that she has been attending the same one for some time now. It’s not far from here, I would highly encourage that you keep that the same.” She went back to her clipboard, jotting down some more notes as Levi contemplated what she had said.

“Makes sense.” He mumbled as she placed her pen down with a soft sigh.

“I got to say, I’m very grateful for your enthusiasm with this, makes my job a lot easier.” She smiled at him and Levi nodded curtly.

“Anyway, I’ll drop her off Monday morning, I believe that her current foster family uses the same daycare that she’s attending, Carla is the mom’s name. She’s made it clear that she is more than willing to lend a hand if ever needed.” Michelle jotted down a number on a scrap piece of paper and slid it across the counter to Levi who blinked stupidly down at her chicken scratch.

“That’s all I need from you.” Michelle stood and gathered her things, Levi trailed behind her to the front door and watched her leave. It was already Thursday, meaning he had less than five full days to finish preparing for Mikasa’s arrival. He felt like a tortured spirit in his own home, wandering the halls hallowly, he had never lived in such a large space. Not that his past homes had been small, but rather, he had always lived with someone.

Kenny and he had shared a small trailer all through his elementary years and well into his high school years. Then in college, he had roomed with Erwin and Mike, first in the dorms and then in shitty apartments. But now, he was alone. At least it was only for a few more days, but could you really count a four-year-old as company?

He found himself once again outside of the empty room, standing right on the threshold. The mere sight of the room made his stomach sink, from the subtle baby pink comforter to the dresser that was filled with tiny clothes. He turned and shut the door softly before marching back into the living room. The mid-afternoon sun was drifting in through the front windows and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

His phone rang obnoxiously and he scrambled to dig it out of his pocket. Hange’s contact lit up his screen and he inhaled sharply, preparing himself for whatever it was that Hange found important enough to share with him at one pm on a Thursday.

“Levi, is this a good time?” That was his first red flag, Hange was never considerate of his time when she called.

“It’s fine why?” He sighed as he began pacing the length of his living room.

“Well, I’ve got excellent news.” Hange couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice.

“What is it?” He encouraged her and she let out a muted squeal.

“I’ve found the perfect nanny for you! She just graduated last semester, I’ll send you her contact info.” Levi felt a small weight lift off of his chest, even though it wasn’t set in stone, at least he was making headway.

“She’s done this before, ever since she was a senior in high school actually. She told me over lunch that her usual employer doesn’t need her anymore so she’s on the hunt for a job!” Hange babbled on and Levi nodded along as he dropped onto the leather sofa.

“Got it thank you.” He confirmed as the ping of her sending the contact info came through his phone.

“Have her over for dinner, or maybe go out for tea. Ask her some questions and I’m sure you’ll find her more than qualified. She has no commitments so I bet if you can make her like you, then she’ll stick around for a while.” Hange chuckled deviously and Levi clicked his tongue.

“I have no idea what criteria I even have to look at to see if she’s qualified.” Levi scoffed and Hange snorted.

“Mikasa’s four years old, she has school and such, I mean as far as I’m concerned your nanny just needs to be able to drive and cook.” Hange shrugged as she flipped through her lesson planner.

“There’s got to be more than just that.” Levi bit the skin on his knuckle as he began wracking his brain for what makes a good nanny.

“Sure there is, I’m just brainstorming.” Hange chuckled and Levi rolled his eyes.

“I’ll make a list.” He concluded and Hange hummed her agreement.

“That’s a great idea, I mean in the end she’s going to be working for you so just put down qualities that you think make a good worker. Or something.” Hange seemed rather indifferent and Levi felt his jaw tick in annoyance.

“Right, well thanks.”

“No problem, catch ya later!” And with that, she hung up.

--

Levi stood outside of the coffee shop. He snuck one last glance at the shortlist that he had made. His brow creased when he read through it, the first point he had put down was: in-state driver’s license. Closely followed by good hygiene. Frustration bubbled into his chest as he wadded the paper up and shoved it deep into his pocket. He finally pushed through the door and approached the familiar counter. He ordered his usual and went to sit in one of the secluded booths in the back.

He had arrived a good ten minutes early, hoping to gather himself before meeting the nanny. As he watched the steam rise off of his cup of tea he savored the few moments of silence. That was until the bell on the door chimed. He knew it was you, Hange had described you in-depth when he had told her he reached out to you that evening she sent your contact.

Your hair was pulled back off of your face in a half up half down style. You wore a pair of fitted jeans and a knitted sweater. Levi watched you as you ordered your drink, you seemed so sure of yourself, the way your shoulders were pulled back and your jaw set in determination. Already off to a good start and he hadn’t even heard you speak. Levi watched you grab your drink before doing a half-turn, eyes scanning the small cafe. They landed on him and Levi knew he’d been caught staring. He did a small tilt of his head, inviting you to join him, you smiled warmly and took quick steps in his direction.

Levi stood and extended his hand to you, which you accepted with a firm handshake.

“You must be Mr. Ackerman.” Your voice was smooth and honeyed, immediately putting him at ease.

“Levi is fine.” He said as he sat back down in the booth. You slid down into the seat opposite of him, clutching your purse in your lap.

“I understand that you have some...experience.” Levi started a bit awkwardly. You nodded eagerly and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“Of course, in the past, it’s mostly been under the table, but we can work around that of course.” Levi examined the typed-out document. A resume of your past jobs and a few recommendations from past employers.

“Under the table is fine…” He mumbled as he thumbed through the pages.

“So, Hange told me a bit about your...unique situation.” You pressed and Levi stilled in his motions.

“What’d she tell you?” He asked, grey eyes boring into you from over the tops of the papers.

“Just that you were a new parent and you needed a hand. Takes a village you know.” You chuckled a bit tensely and Levi felt some tension leave his shoulders. At least Hange had given him the liberty of explaining himself.

“She’s not wrong, I’ve taken custody of my distant cousin, I know nothing about child-rearing,” Levi admitted point blank and you weren’t sure if he was kidding or not. When his expression remained as cold as stone, you realized that he was in fact not.

“I see...I’ll admit that I don’t have much experience with...well stuff like this either.” You smiled at him in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you. Levi’s eyes narrowed and he reclined back into the booth, eyes never leaving yours.

“We’ll just come up with it as we go.”

“So you’re set on me as your nanny?” You beamed and he scowled, although you were right. Levi knew from the moment he shook your hand that he would choose you.

“Yes, Mikasa arrives on Monday and I expect you to be there when she does.” Levi scoffed, lifting his teacup by the rim and taking a long sip.

“Be where exactly?” You were getting smart, something that simultaneously annoyed and intrigued him.

“My house, I’ll send you the address the day before,” Levi answered with a roll of his eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” You hummed, lifting your coffee cup to your own lips.

“What are my hours going to be?” You asked as you placed your cup back onto the tabletop.

“Mikasa goes to half days at preschool, so I’ll need you to drop her off and pick her up from that. She needs to be dropped off at eight am and picked up at noon.” Levi tapped his finger on the rim of his cup and you nodded.

“I can do that, so I’ll fix all three meals then?” You asked and Levi felt a tinge of guilt. He knew that he wasn’t completely prepared to be a parent, but he still felt ashamed for seeking help. Kenny had raised him to be independent. It had taken so much to reach out to Hange, and now he was relying on a strange young woman.

“Yes, that’s preferred. I don’t have any rules besides keeping the house spotless.” His finger was planted on the tabletop now to emphasize the importance of his only rule. You nodded in understanding.

“You can set the boundaries for Mikasa, I trust that you have enough experience in this area.” Levi continued and you tensed. Never had you ever had so much responsibility riding on a nanny position. Your employers set the rules and you enforced them, but now you were expected to be both parties. But when Levi slid a paper across the table your eyes widened. On the notepad was a range of wages that he was willing to pay. You struggled to contain your shock as you clutched the paper.

“T-This is way too much.” You squeaked as you pushed the paper back to Levi.

“Seems reasonable to me.” He shrugged and you felt your face flush.

“Well...it’s your money after all.” You reasoned as you grappled internally to regain your composure.

“But if at any time and for any reason you need to lower it that’s fine too.” You waved your hands in front of you and Levi’s brows pinched together.

“Don’t worry about it.” He assured you and set his empty cup aside.

“Was there anything else you wanted to cover?” You asked, sneaking a glance at your watch.

“That’s all from me, I’ll text you my address and get you set up to pick up and drop off with the school,” Levi said as he pulled his coat on over his shoulders. Your cup was still full so you remained seated as you watched him straighten the fabric of his jacket.

“Alright, see you Monday morning then.” You said as he marched towards the door, his posture rigid. As soon as he disappeared through the door, the doubt swirled in your chest. You had never worked this many hours and the added pressure of Mikasa coming from a traumatic past made you uneasier. But you weren’t one to shy away from a challenge, you pulled your phone out and began to dive headfirst into the internet. After about twenty minutes of scrolling through countless tabs and foster parent forums, you felt at least somewhat prepared.

You ended up ordering three more cups of coffee, by the time you were halfway through your third cup, your hands shook as you held your phone. The screen was beginning to put a strain on your eyes as you squinted at the black font. With a heavy sigh, you placed your phone screen down on the table and tossed your head back against the booth’s cushion. After a few deep breaths, you collected your things and made your way out into the chilly air, determined to continue gathering information and preparing yourself for the task at hand.

--

Levi did some research of his own that afternoon. Sitting in his desk chair, he clicked through tabs, a simple google search had shown him your Instagram. He had been relieved to find it public, your page seemed average, nothing too out of the ordinary. But he was disappointed to find it rather small, with not a lot of posts or followers. It seemed that you, like himself, were not too fond of posting every small movement that you made for the world to see. In fact, your most recent post was from almost a full year ago, right around spring break. The post was a compilation of photos you had taken on a biology trip that Hange had organized. He closed the tab and pulled up a new one, the official website for the daycare that Mikasa had been attending. He found the phone number and dialed it into his keypad on his phone. He needed to register you as one of Mikasa’s emergency contacts and as her primary source of transportation.

The process was easy and he was relieved to be able to check it off of his list so he could at least attempt and get some of his work done. He needed to savor these last few child-free days before Mikasa became a permanent and very prominent factor in his life.

__

As promised, Levi sent you a text with nothing but his address and the time he expected you there the next morning. Your sleep that night was fitful, tossing and turning well into the early hours. You only ended up sleeping a grand total of six hours before having to get up and get ready for your first day of work. You sifted through your closet in search of an appropriate outfit, as badly as you wanted to wear a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you knew Levi would likely frown upon it.

So you ended up choosing a plush sweater and a pair of jeans. Pleased with your appearance, you then left your small apartment and made the twenty-minute drive out to the suburbs where Levi was located. The roads were icy the sky was dark with promises of more snow, by the time you had arrived a few fat flakes were already dwindling from the sky. You parked on the side of the road, careful to not block his mailbox, and trudged up the slick driveway and up to the front door. It only took one soft knock for him to pull the door open. He was as handsome as you remembered, his hair was damp from a shower and his hands were busy as he finished tying his tie. He stepped aside and walked back into his house as you kicked the snow off of your shoes.

The space was remarkably clean considering a single man occupied the space. Levi gestured vaguely with his head for you to follow him into the kitchen and you obliged. He pulled out a neon green piece of paper and handed it to you, Mikasa’s name was written in stark penmanship.

“That’s your tag to pick her up, don’t forget it.” He said as he shoved a set of keys into his back pocket.

“Is she here?” Your voice was hushed and your eyes strayed to the hallway which was dark.

“Not yet, the service worker should be here any minute now,” Levi said as he folded his collar down over his tie and finally turned to face you.

“Oh, alright. So what time are you usually off of work?” You asked, setting your purse on the island in the kitchen. Levi sighed and licked his lips thoughtfully.

“Depends...I normally stay late but technically my workday ends at 5:30 but I probably will be at least an hour later than that.” Levi said and you nodded along in understanding.

“That’s not a problem, do you have any idea of what time Mikasa goes to sleep at?” You asked, and judging by the way his shoulders tensed up, he did not.

“Not a clue, but I’ll ask the social worker.” He assured you and you nodded, allowing your eyes to scan over the kitchen. The marble countertops were so white and obviously well kept, you knew that they would give you grief, the oven and microwave looked fancy, as did the fridge. As Levi reached up for a cup from one of the deep navy cupboards, you noted that they were the kind that shut quietly. Your staring was interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. Levi sat his cup aside and walked briskly back towards the front door.

“Good morning Mr. Ackerman, may we come in?” An unfamiliar voice could be heard, followed closely by the sound of two new sets of footsteps on the hardwood floors.

“Of course.” Levi’s voice was even lower and harder to make out as the newcomers shuffled in. They rounded the corner and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest when your eyes landed on the small girl. She wore a white dress paired with a pink cardigan and a scarlet scarf. The older woman helped Mikasa out of her plush pink coat and draped it over her forearm.

“Who is this?” The woman asked, eyes slightly widened as they landed on you.

“This is (Y/n), my nanny,” Levi said vaguely and the woman nodded slowly before gently pushing Mikasa out from behind her legs.

“Honey, why don’t we go take a look at your new room?” The woman asked and the girl’s brows knitted together, but she let the social worker guide her down the hall and out of sight. Levi tailed behind them, you almost followed as well, but you feared overwhelming her. Levi hauled the small suitcase down the hall and you heard the soft chatter of the two adults. A few moments passed before they returned, the social worker shook Levi’s hand and knelt down to give Mikasa a tender hug.

“We’ll be in touch.” She promised as she showed herself out. Levi’s shoulders drooped once the woman left and he looked down at the small girl who stood near his side.

“Mikasa,” He cleared his throat and the small girl looked up at him, eyes swimming with tears and lip quivering. A rush of panic flooded his chest but you were quicker than he was.

“Mikasa, my name is (Y/n), we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.” You had crossed the room to kneel before her with your hand outstretched invitingly. The girl gripped the edge of her dress and swayed it anxiously as she avoided your eyes.

“I know this is really scary and confusing, but we’re going to work through this together.” You assured her when she remained closed off. Levi watched with wide eyes as tears slid down her face and rolled off her chin. You leaned forward and swiped them away with your thumb and Mikasa whimpered unsurely.

“Tell you what, I was just about to make some breakfast. Have you eaten yet?” You asked, after a moment of contemplation, Mikasa shook her head no shyly.

“What would you like? I’ve been told that I make a mean waffle.” You smiled wryly and Mikasa’s lip quivered as it quirked up in an unsure smile.

“I wanna make cinnamon rolls.” She spoke softly and you nodded with wide eager eyes.

“Totally.” You agreed, still holding your hand out as you slowly stood. Mikasa accepted your outstretched, her small hand was easily enveloped in your own as you led her around the island.

“Hey Levi, how much time before you’ve got to leave?” You asked as you stopped to hoist Mikasa up onto the counter.

“About 30 minutes.” He said, trying to contain himself from scolding you for putting the child onto the counter.

“Want to help us?” You invited and Levi sighed, knowing it would be wrong to decline.

“I don’t have cinnamon rolls.” He said instead of answering the original question.

“Oh that’s not a problem. Do you have flour? Yeast, eggs?” You asked as you turned and began rummaging through the cabinets.

“Of course, I’m not an animal.” He scoffed and you chuckled as you pulled out a bag of flour.

“That’s all we need.” You sat the bag next to Mikasa who reached out and touched it experimentally. Next you pulled out the carton of eggs from the fridge, Mikasa opened the carton and gently held an egg. Levi could easily imagine her losing her grip and dropping the egg onto his freshly cleaned wood floors.

“Where’s your cinnamon?” You asked, back turned and arms outstretched as you held the cabinet open.

“Here.” Levi slid past you, opening the neighboring cabinet and held the spice out to you. With a smile you accepted it and added the container to the growing pile of ingredients.

“How long does this take?” Levi asked, glancing at his watch.

“Not 30 minutes.” You answered wryly as you handed Mikasa a wooden spoon, she accepted it happily. Her small hands wrapped around the handle and she placed the spoon against her cheek, basically hugging the utensil.

“What else do you need?” He asked as you perused his kitchen.

“Just yeast and sugar.” You answered as you crouched to look for a bowl.

“It’s over here.” He opened a cabinet near the one you were inspecting and pulled out a bag of sugar and a handful of yeast packets.

“Do you cook a lot?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Enough, I hate eating out.” He answered and you hummed in understanding.

Levi watched as you began making the dough and Mikasa leaned on your shoulder as you kneaded the dough. Her grey eyes widened when you motioned for her to join in. She poked the dough and you smiled as she splayed her small hands over the surface of the squishy dough.

Once again, all Levi could think about how dirty her hands were as she began kneading the dough as you had previously.

“That’s great! Now we can let it sit for a while before we roll them up!” You explained as you gathered the dough back up into the bowl and laid a kitchen towel over it.

“Want an apple while we wait?” You asked and Mikasa nodded enthusiastically as you turned to grab the fruit. Levi looked at his watch once more, he still had about 10 minutes before he had to leave. But he felt the pressure and reality of his newfound responsibility weighing heavy on his chest. So he went to get his shoes and retreat like the coward he was.

“Leaving?” You asked as he pulled his shoes on, you had already cut the apple and Mikasa was watching with curious eyes as she crunched on a slice.

“Yeah, I’ll be back before 8.” He promised and you nodded.

“See you then.” You called after him as he slipped out of the garage door, throwing up a careless wave of acknowledgment as he went. You then turned back to Mikasa and sighed exasperatedly and she giggled as you returned to making her breakfast. This was going to be a long day.

[wiypt-writes]

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

 Ransom Drysdale One Shot

Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

 Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13​ who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13​ and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​’s  Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

“You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

“Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

“He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

“He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

“Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

“Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

“Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.  

All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

"Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

“Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

“Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

“Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

“Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

“My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

And so did Ransom.

He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed.  So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

“Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

“Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

“Please.”

That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

“How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay.”

You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

“Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

“For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

“Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

But it never did. And he never did.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

“You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

“It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

“What?” he asked looking down.

“Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

“Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

“Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

“That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

“Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

“Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

“You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

“Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

You were his better half for sure.

“Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

“Is it working?” You played along.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

“Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

“Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

“Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

“Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

“Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

“Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

“I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

“Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

Jacob.

How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

“Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

“I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

“Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

“Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

“Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

“You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

“Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

“How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

“Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

“He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

“Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

“He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

“I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

“I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

Ransom frowned “What?”

“I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

“Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

“Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

[princessphilly]

Tag list:  @ohpuckyeah @joelsfarabee @besthockeyfics @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887 @shelbsatans​

CW: soft smut, mentions of miscarriage, fucked up doctors. 

This is definitely it. Sid and Nina’s story is over but you will see them in the other fics of this universe, including a huge part of Plain Jane

Nina stared at the boxes. It was time to pack but at the same time, she couldn’t do it. 

They were so excited. A baby so early in their marriage had seemed scary but Sid and Nina were ready. They had picked out colors, a room for a nursery, and had begun to discreetly pick up supplies. 

It was nineteen weeks; still early but they were getting ready to announce. Then there was the blood in the toilet three days ago when Nina woke up and went to the bathroom. And now, their first, a girl, was gone. 

The doctor was sympathetic, and said it happens a lot. Most pregnancies never make it to birth, she said. But it hurt that their girl was now an angel. Nina sniffled as she packed the pack-and-play back into the box. 

“Hey, why are you doing that? You’re supposed to rest!”

Nina looked up, tears in her eyes. Sidney rushed to her, lowering himself to the floor. Gathering his wife in his arms, he soothed, “Pretty girl, we’ll have more.”

“But-but-“

Nina’s tears turned into sobs as she relaxed in her husband’s arms. Her momma had a history of miscarriages: what if that meant that there would never be a child?

As if he could read her mind, Sidney replied, “it doesn’t matter, I love you no matter what.”

**

Nina was sleeping, finally getting some rest. Matthew was napping on Sidney’s chest, his little boy still red but much calmer. 

It hadn’t been an easy birth for Nina. This was their third pregnancy but first child to make it past the 2nd trimester. And Matthew decided to come out three weeks early, November 26 instead of his due date of December 17. 

The door opened and Matthew stirred a bit before settling back down. Sidney looked around: his mother was curled into a chair, reading a book while Tracy was scrolling her phone on the couch. The proud grandfathers had gone out to get lunch for everyone. 

Walking in, the doctor said, “The nurse said Nina is healing nicely but we will have to do some stitches. Your son is a big boy.”

Sidney gave him a tentative grin. Matthew was 9lbs, 4 oz and 22 inches long. He was on the bigger side. The doctor continued, “When I stitch her, I can give her a husband stitch, if you like.”

“What is that,” Sidney asked, wrinkling his nose. 

Trina interjected, “Don’t you dare, Sidney.”

In a soothing voice, the doctor said, “it’s an extra stitch to make your wife as tight as she was before she gave birth.” He winked at Sidney. 

Sidney looked at his mother before responding, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Nina managed to say, opening her eyes. “I heard about that stitch and I will sue if you do that to me.”

“You heard her.”

Sidney gave the doctor a hard look as he shrugged, preparing to give Nina only the necessary stitches. Passing his boy to his mother, Sidney said, “I’d like a different doctor.”

“What, I’ve been-”

Sidney took out his phone, ready to start making some calls. The doctor left, grumbling under his throat. Nina gave Sidney a grateful smile before dozing off again. 

**

One of the hardest things for Sidney was the fact that it was best for his boy not to grow up in Canada. As a proud Canadian, that rankled him. He wanted Matt to be more Canadian than American. But when a video of 2 year old Matt skating and hitting a puck dead center into the net made major news, Sidney knew he had no choice. He wanted Matt to have more of a childhood than him, to not feel like he had to be the next one. 

So, his family spent most of the year in Pittsburgh and summers in Cole Harbour or on different vacations. Sidney knew that his son was still “famous” but Matt was still treated as a kid. With Nina’s extended family, there wasn’t any preferential treatment. His kids were the same as their cousins in Nina’s family, giving his children normalcy Sidney never had as a child. 

Sidney raked a hand through his silver hair. As much as he wanted Matt to go his own way, it still freaked him out that his son chose to be a *goalie* out of all positions. He winced as he heard a shot hit the post. Then Matt made a glove save and Sid clapped.

“That’s not the talent I expected but he’s already showing signs of being a better goalie than center, Sid.”

Sidney turned to his longtime mentor and now close friend, Mario. Shrugging, he replied, “I just want him to be happy. He’s happy, I’m happy.” 

Sidney smirked. “Plus, Chloe is going to be the best woman’s hockey player ever. She’s 8 and she’s already playing with 10 to 12 year old girls.”

“True,” Mario conceded. “You’ve transitioned from pro to hockey dad.”

“Eh, can’t forget Aja and Morgan. I’m a hockey, figure skating, soccer, and dance dad. Not bad for a fifty year old washed up player.”

“Who’s washed up?”

Sidney grinned as his wife bumped him with her hip. His baby girl was holding Nina’s hand, her hair pulled up into a dancer’s bun. Chloe was right behind her, still clad in her hockey gear, Aja trailing behind with a book in her hands. 

“I am,” Sidney drawled. 

Chloe piped up, “No you’re not, Daddy! You’re still the best hockey player ever!”

“Yup,” Morgan added while Aja nodded, absorbed in her book. 

“No, you’ll be the best hockey player ever, Chlo’,” Aja stated, closing her book. “Daddy will be the best men’s hockey player.”

As Aja firmly nodded, Sidney and Mario laughed. 

**

Nina let out a breath. It was crazy how just one touch from Sidney made her hot, even seventeen years later. His lips were trailing down her neck, one hand cupping her breasts. “Can you be quiet for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina breathed out. Sidney’s other hand was exploring her folds. She was getting wet but menopause was finally calling so Nina knew they would need some help. Leaning away from Sidney, she pulled out the lube from the drawer. 

“Thanks, pretty girl, but I’m more interested in burying my face in your pussy,” Sidney laughed. 

Nina replied softly, “No problem. You know my mom just came back from her cruise so the girls will go find her first this morning.”

“Even better. Spread your legs for me, pretty girl. You know what daddy wants.”

Nina let out a giggle that quickly turned into a muffled moan as she felt Sidney’s tongue gently lick through her pussy, his nose nudging her clit the way she liked it. He ate her slowly, bringing Nina close to the edge but never letting her go. Then Sidney stopped, kissing his way up Nina’s body before kissing her, letting Nina taste herself. 

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Nina urged, “Please, Sidney,” managing to keep her voice at a whisper. Before he could answer, they heard some girlish giggles and they both paused. 

“I locked the door last night,” Sidney whispered into Nina’s ear. Nina giggled then moaned as she felt Sidney’s fingers spread the cool lube over her pussy. Then he entered her, nice and slow.

“Love you, pretty girl,” Sidney whispered as Nina arched against him. She was clenching around his cock; he wanted to go slow and savor it this morning but Nina had different ideas. 

Nina whispered, “Love you, too,” her fingernails digging into his back. Then she squeaked as Sidney withdrew, turning her onto her hands and knees.  

**

“Momma, you promised to make breakfast today.”

Nina straggled into the kitchen, her robe wrapped tightly around her body. “Morg, it’s 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday, it’s still morning.”

Chloe piped up, “You’re usually up before us everyday, Momma.”

Nina shared a look with Sidney who squelched a laugh. He had planned to just go one round with his wife but it turned into three to start off the day right. 

Sighing, Nina grabbed bowls to prepare waffles. Morgan added, “Mimi made waffle batter already, Momma.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Nina sincerely stated. 

Tracey shrugged. “I figured I’d give you a break since I’ve been gone. You know I love my grand girls.”

Matthew yawned as he walked into the kitchen, his hair sticking up all over his head. “Hi,” he sleepily said before going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of Gatorade. 

“It’s too early for energy drinks, Matt,” Sidney chided. 

“Sorry, Dad.”

Matthew was about three weeks from turning twelve and the whole teenage era was coming fast. Now, he was sleeping in and staying up late. Nina sighed, it was too early for one of her babies to grow up. 

“I would have woken up earlier but these girls had to jump on my bed at 7am, Dad,” Matthew complained. “They said your door was locked. Why do they always have to bother me?”

“Because we love you, Matty,” Aja said with a mischievous smile. “And some girl sent you messages while you were asleep.”

Matthew glared at his little sister. “Girls are ugly. Especially girls like you.”

Sid and Nina shared a look. Sid just had “the talk” with Matthew and they were both happy he still saw girls as ugly, at least for now. Tracey said, “Oh baby, that’s no way to talk to your little sister.”

“I’m sorry, Mimi,” Matthew said, giving his grandmother a kiss. “Momma, can we have blueberry waffles today?”

“Plain waffles,” Nina said firmly. “You can add blueberries, strawberries, or peaches as a fruit topping.”

“No chocolate chips?”

Chloe and Morgan gave their mother their biggest puppy-dog eyes. Nina shook her head. They then give Sidney the same look, saying together, “Daddy, can we have chocolate chips with our waffles?”

Sidney laughed as he picked up two of his girls. “You two already know the answer to that!”

Chloe pouted as Morgan laughed at the silly faces Sidney was making. Sidney added, “It’s Saturday so you know today is ice cream day after dinner. Did anyone feed Maddie?”

Nina giggled as she turned on the grill. At the mention of her name, Maddie, their dog, ran into the kitchen. Pharaoh, their cat, followed Maddie in, stretching before walking around her legs. As her family noisily talked, Nina sighed in happiness. She loved her family, life was perfect.

[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH11

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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The sky is painted bright orange and red by the time the pack arrives at the next camp site. The fall colors on the trees make the world look like it’s made of gold and rubies cemented to black cast iron trees in silhouette. The path to the camp ground is narrow but still large enough for the truck to navigate as Avdol drives carefully down the one lane trail. Kakyoin had kept in mind the need to be able to transform at will tonight and found a private campsite that promised a ‘true survival experience’ according to the reviews online.

Your attention is dragged away from the fall scenery outside as Jotaro shifts in his sleep, his head resting in your lap as he lays sideways on the bench seat of the back row. You adjust the hoodie you’d thrown over his sleeping figure and gently brush back his hair before returning your hand to rest on his arm. He’d been exhausted after the last fight and started nodding off almost as soon as you had set out. After the third time he leaned too far forward and jerked himself awake you gave in and decided to risk the embarrassment of the others teasing -or worse, Jotaro’s rejection- and offered to let him lay down. He looked confused for a moment but you patted your lap in invitation. He snuck a quick glance to the rest of the pack before shifting and laying down. You were both tense at first at first but you hesitantly ran your hand over his hair and he loosened up considerably. Soon he was fully asleep on you.

Joseph and Polnareff also seem to be sleeping, or close to it in the middle row seats, but a particularly rough bump in the road shakes the truck enough to wake everyone. Jotaro grumbles as he sits up, sweatshirt falling off and revealing the tank top and bandages on his shoulder. He looks it for a moment before handing it back to you with a gruff ‘thanks’, his voice raspy with sleep.

“It’s no problem. Feeling better?” you ask as you bundle the sweater on your lap.

“A bit. Still sore as hell.” He tries his best to stretch in the confined space. Another bump in the road almost causes him to bump his head on the roof and he slumps in his seat to avoid it happening again as the bumps and rocking get more extreme.

“Ah, that must be the camp site ahead.” Kakyoin says as he looks up from the map on his phone and points to the clearing now visible after cresting a small hill. The truck is barely still for a second before Polnareff jumps out and starts stretching. The rest of you follow his example, the cramped car ride after transforming and fighting not doing your muscles any favors. Like the site you just left this one was also empty but located much deeper in the forest. Perfect for keeping off the grid until morning.

The last campers had left some firewood under the cover of a nearby pine tree so you work to quickly clear the ashes from the fire pit. With the help of Jotaro’s lighter, a good size fire crackled happily to life just as the sun set. The rest of the pack had split up to investigate the clearing and into the woods beyond while you built the fire, but the rustling of bags draws everyone back in. Joseph makes his way over carrying as many bags of snacks as he can, “Dinner time! Looks like the choices tonight are beef jerky, chips or candy.” You all gather and take a seat on the logs laying near the fire and start passing around the bags.

While a meal of snacks wouldn’t be filling for long, for now it was enough to leave you all satisfied. Joseph is sitting with Polnareff and Avdol across from where you are seated between Jotaro and Kakyoin and sets off the first contagious yawn. You can hear his back crack as he stretches, your own eyes watering from the strength of your yawn. Polnareff laughs and slaps Joseph on the back, “Ha, looks like it’s past the old wolf’s bed time!” Joseph can’t refute this as he goes to reply and gets caught by another epic yawn.

“We should go over sleeping arrangements though. The truck is too small for all of us to sleep in and we only have a fire because the last campers left some wood.” Kakyoin says as he leans forward toward the fire and rests his head in his hand. He moves his sharp gaze around the clearing looking for any other supplies or natural resources that could be used. He heaves a sigh and drops his gaze back to the fire.

Jotaro hums in though as he looks around as well. “With all the encounters we’ve had just today I think we should take shifts on patrol. The truck can probably hold two people if we fold down some seats. The rest of us will have to spend the night transformed, for safety and for warmth.” The rest of the pack nods in agreement. “Avdol, are you ok driving the rest of the way tomorrow?”

Avdol tilts his head at the change of subject. “Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good,” Jotaro leans back and stretches a bit as he explains, “you and the old man can sleep in the truck tonight, the rest of us will pair up and patrol in shifts.”

“Well wait a moment Jotaro, I can patrol too!” Joseph slaps his hands on his legs as he leans forward toward Jotaro. “I know I joke about it a lot but I’m not that old!”

Jotaro sighs as he closes his eyes and crosses his arms. “One of these days your age will catch up to you. Besides, you’ll need to be well rested to navigate for Avdol tomorrow. And you need to manage whatever is going on at the new headquarters once we get there.” He opens his eyes again and fixes Joseph with a steely gaze. Joseph scratches at his beard and looks away, not ready or willing to challenge Jotaro on this. You can’t really make out what he grumbles under his breath other than ‘not that old’.

Polnareff laughs and slaps Joseph on the back, “Ha! I’ll remember you said that next time you try and get out of trouble using that ‘frail old man’ card!” Joseph just grumbles more as everyone chuckles; you see a small smirk on his face as he turns away though.

“Fine, fine. Us old guys will sleep in the car while you young whippersnappers brave the cold out here. But don’t come knocking on my door in the middle of the night!”

Jotaro grins at his grandfather’s antics before turning his attention to the rest of the ‘youngsters’ in the pack. “I think we’ll be fine if we spend the night as wolves. The temperature shouldn’t be so cold that we can’t handle it. As for patrol and watch,” he pulls out his phone to check the time, “we’ll pair up for the night and morning shifts, that way all of us get at least a few hours of sleep.” Just the word sleep has Jotaro suppressing a yawn. “I’ll take one spot on the morning patrol, anyone else have a preference?”

You nod and speak up, “I’ll stay up for night shift, I’m not an early riser.” You blush and turn away from Jotaro as you realizes he’s seen you in action- or inaction- two mornings in a row now.

“I don’t really have a preference.” Kakyoin says from your other side, he must have interpreted your movement as looking for his answer, not just avoiding Jotaro.

“I guess that makes me the deciding vote, I’d rather stay up for the night watch than wake up early as well.”

With the patrols figured out for the night everyone starts to prepare for bed. It turns out though that you’re the only one with rough camping experience as the guys watch perplexed as you start gathering a pile of leaves to make a more comfortable spot than just the hard ground. “What, you guys never camped without gear before?” Three sets of eyes look away, embarrassed as Joseph starts cackling in the background.

“You’re going to have to show these city boys the ropes (Y/N)! I’m sure you can handle it.” Joseph says as he climbs into the cleared space in the back of the truck and shuts the door behind him.

“Wait, seriously? None of you have camped out without tents before?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Joestar is right,” Kakyoin explains as he takes a step forward to better observe what you are doing, “is it really more complicated than just transforming to stay warm?”

“Well, that will keep you warm but it won’t make it more comfortable to sleep on the ground. Help me gather up some more leaves, we’ll make a two-person pile to use as a mattress. Then I’ll help you guys bundle up some pillows out of clothes so they don’t unravel overnight.” Jotaro raises an eyebrow but just shrugs and does as you instruct, the other two falling in line as well. Soon a pretty decent leaf pile is collected and you spread it out large enough for two adult males to fit comfortably. After showing the guys how to roll up pillows tight enough to withstand the tossing and turning that comes from sleeping on the ground you all scavenge the area for branches and sticks to keep the fire fed overnight. “Excellent! I’ll make campers out of you guys yet!”

“How is it you know all this anyway? You said you traveled a lot, but is this how you normally got from place to place?” Kakyoin asks as he drops off the last pile of sticks from his arms.

You wave off the comment, “Oh no, I usually had enough money to get a motel room or something. In a pinch I could sleep in my car for a night if I absolutely needed to. I actually learned all this camping stuff from family reunions. I have a lot of family when you start counting cousins and second cousins, and every year there is a reunion at the beginning of summer. We spend the whole weekend as wolves, hunting, racing, sleeping, occasionally fighting…” you smile and slap your hands free of dirt. “It’s really a great time, living wild for a weekend. Gets a lot of pent-up energy out, you know?”

“That sounds like a rather nice tradition.” Kakyoin gives you a kind smile, “Perhaps we should consider adopting it?” he turns his head towards Jotaro who just hums contemplatively before nodding. Another wave of contagious yawns overtakes the pack and you all decide its time to get some rest.

You all quickly shed your human forms for wolf fur, your senses sparking alive as your form shifts. Colors dim as your new sight allows for better night vision at the cost of reduced variation. You inhale deeply, expecting only the smells of woods and campfire but something slightly sour hangs in the air. Closing your eyes and lifting your nose to the wind you try and follow the trail but it’s gone as suddenly as it appeared, the wind chasing it away from you through the trees. You shake your head and snort to clear your nose. It was probably just some trash or something a previous camper forgot in the area.

Jotaro and Kakyoin get situated on the bed of leaves and Polnareff motions for you to join him at the edge of trees for your first patrol. The journey through the woods is slow going at first, both of you slightly on edge, not knowing what to expect. While you had more experience ‘living wild’ as you called it, Polnareff obviously had more experience hunting and tracking. He makes it a point to stop often to mark your trail with scratches on the trees and brushing up on other shorter bushes to leave his scent. He laughs at you a bit when he catches your curious gaze on the tree he just mauled, “What’s the matter? I thought you were used to camping out in this form?”

“Well yeah, but… I was always stuck hanging out with the pups. My dad and uncles split up patrol duty.”

“Ah, well in that case let me show you. I usually do this when I’m on a job to find someone in the city; its much easier to follow your nose back rather than loose track of a target because you were looking at a map.” He gestures to a tree ahead, “Go ahead and help out. It will probably help keep other animals away too if they smell too many predators in the area.”

“I was wondering why I didn’t hear anything moving around tonight. You think we scarred everything off?” you sniff the air again; you could tell some deer and rabbits had been through recently but only their scent remained now.

“Probably. They’d have to be pretty ill equipped to stay in an area with a bunch of wolves roaming about- or humans for that matter.” He lifts his nose and jogs ahead a few paces to a large boulder, “Here- this is where we started at. Now we just turn left and we’ll be back at camp.” You blink perplexed, you hadn’t really thought about how many turns you’d taken during your walk. Perhaps you were more tired than you thought.

The fire is burning low when you get back to the camp so you feed it some of the branches collected earlier, keeping the coals burning hot enough to reach the sleeping men and keep them a bit more comfortable. You take a seat next to Polnareff and grab one of the drink bottles from the snack pile. It’s a little tricky with your hands being larger and less dexterous than you are used to but you manage to open it and hand it to Polnareff before grabbing one for yourself. The lack of animal sounds around the campsite is still a little unnerving but you’re soon distracted when Polnareff turns to you and starts telling you about the time he had to covertly chase a target through an office building while dressed as a mailman, trying to catch the target in the act of cheating with his co-worker.

You take turns trying to one up each other with ridiculous stories, keeping an eye on the fire and the woods at the same time. You can’t help but let your attention drift every so often as Jotaro or Kakyoin move around in their sleep. Polnareff’s pointy elbow is suddenly nudging your side as he laughs at you, apparently, you’d been staring at the alpha long enough for Pol to notice. You quickly turn away even though your fur would cover any blush on your face. Standing up and moving to the woods again you initiate another patrol round, Polnareff snickering as you follow the trail left last time and refresh the scent marks.

The rest of your night on watch goes smoothly, and by the time your last patrol comes around you’re feeling a bit sleep drunk, playfully pushing Polnareff around on your walk as he teases you for being so concerned with keeping the fire warm and setting aside snacks for Jotaro and Kakyoin when they woke up. Really you were just trying to keep Polnareff from eating all the good snacks. You laugh and give a shove and he makes a show of exaggeratedly falling into a tree.

“Such violence! Just wait! I’ll tell on you to Joseph; we’ll see who’s laughing then!” the large wolfman throws a hand to his forehead like a swooning southern lady and points an accusing finger at you.

“Tell on me? What, you’re going to admit you can’t hold your own against me? He’ll just laugh and call you a spoiled pup again.” You continue slowly on the patrol path and wait for him to catch up.

“No, I’ll just tell him how you were making googly eyes at his grandson all night. You will never have another moments rest!” his triumphant smirk is infuriating even in his wolf form so you shove him off the path again and race back to camp, laughing as he playfully shoves you off course as he passes you.

Back at camp your eyes immediately go to the sleeping wolves and you have to admit maybe Polnareff has a point about you making ‘googly eyes’ at Jotaro; he and Kakyoin are tangled up in what would be a puppy pile if they were younger. You’re very tempted for a moment to not worry about waking them up for their patrol shift and just join the pile yourself, but your rational mind overcomes your instincts and you carefully wake them. Kakyoin wakes up quickly and makes his way to the remaining snacks near the fire. Jotaro however looks half asleep still so you keep him seated for a few moments longer on the leaf pile as you check the wounds on his shoulder hadn’t opened up or gotten too dirty in his sleep. You help him brush some crumbled leaves from his fur and you both make your way to the fire and sitting logs.

You grab a few packs of jerky and some drinks to help Jotaro wake up and you can’t help the startled yelp as he grabs your hand and pulls you down to sit next to him. You’re almost uncomfortably close, your side brushing against his any time either of you inhales. Jotaro doesn’t seem to notice how tense you are, he still looks half asleep as he mechanically eats the snacks you offered him while staring into the fire. You ignore Polnareff’s snickering and Kakyoin’s knowing looks from across the fire pit and hand over a drink to the alpha at your side. His arm brushes against yours as he takes it and you shiver as the contact marks you with his scent, even if it was accidental it is a highly intimate thing, usually reserved for very close pack mates.

“Did anything interesting happen while we were asleep? Anything we should know about?” Kakyoin tries to draw in Polnareff’s attention before he can start teasing you or Jotaro.

Polnareff is hyper focused on the opportunity to tease you though, “Non, non. In fact, you are witnessing the most interesting thing to happen all night,” he gestures to you both. Jotaro must be more awake as he looks back over his shoulder in confusion before he realizes what Pol is implying. You hear him mutter something as he shifts away from you, but only by a few inches so you were no longer joined at the hip.

“Seriously Polnareff?” he yelps and fumbles with a water bottle you throw at him. “But really, it has been pretty uneventful. We must have scared off everything around here.”

Jotaro tenses next to you and you look at him with a questioning tilt of your head. “You haven’t seen any animals around? Not even on perimeter patrol?”

“Uh, no. we just assumed we scared them all away.” Polnareff scratches his head, also confused by Jotaro’s concern. “Isn’t it natural to flee a place is a group of hunters moves in?”

“Maybe at first, but at least the animals in the trees should have come back by now…” Jotaro rubs his eyes and lowers his head with a huff, “Whatever, I’m probably over thinking it.” You glance around the camp site again, the peaceful quiet now more ominous as shadows cast from the fire dance behind trees and bushes.

“Oh, thanks a lot Jotaro. Giving me the creeps right before I go to bed.” Polnareff’s fur is standing on end making him appear comically fluffy. “I’m blaming you if I get no rest tonight. And after (Y/N) and I did such a good job on our watch.” He huffs as he attempts to smooth down his fur again.

The red wolf next to him just chuckles and shakes his head, “Well no one said you have to go to sleep. You’re free to stay up and keep an eye on camp if you want.” Kakyoin stands up and stretches as Polnareff mumbles to himself about needing his beauty sleep and shuffles over to the leaf bed.

You and Jotaro rise from your seats and you give another skeptical glance around at the trees before grabbing hold of Jotaro’s arm as he starts to walk away. This may be becoming a habit for you, grabbing onto his hand for reassurance. He faces you and tilts his head an you search for words as you make eye contact with him. “I…um… just…” you glance away and refocus on his face when he gives your hand a squeeze “Be careful?”

He nods and his stoic features soften slightly as he smiles, “We will, don’t worry. Go get some rest.” His hand lest go of yours and trails up your arm and around to your back to nudge you in the right direction. Too tired to put up any resistance, you follow his order. You’re asleep almost as soon as you lay down next to Polnareff in the leaf pile.

Kakyoin waits patiently at the entrance to the patrol path you and Polnareff created as Jotaro checks around camp. Avdol and the old man still asleep in the truck, the coals of the fire still hot enough that the heat reaches your sleeping spot, and there should be enough wood to keep it that way till morning. He’s satisfied with the state of things and casts one last critical glance to the shadows beyond the tree line before joining Kakyoin on the path. The silence of the forest is unnerving but easy to ignore, Polnareff was probably right about the animals keeping a wide berth around a group of predators.

His concentration is pulled from the surrounding woods by Kakyoin. “(Y/N) seems to be really fitting in well with the pack.” The red wolf faces ahead with a straight face, but there is a glint in his eyes as he glances back to Jotaro to gauge his reaction. “I don’t think I’ve seen you warm up to anybody as fast as you have to her. It’s a bit shocking you decided to trust her so soon if I’m honest.” He tries to keep his face neutral, but Jotaro can see the beginnings of a smug smirk.

“You saying I shouldn’t trust her?” Jotaro throws the statement back at him, years of experience turning Kakyoin’s teasing comments on their head coming into practice.

“Ha, no, not at all. She more than proved herself today.” He pauses, a more serious look on his face as he continues, “But even you have to admit, you’ve been acting very strange since you met her.”

“It’s… complicated. I don’t really want to talk about it.” Jotaro shakes his head and continues moving on.

Kakyoin stops in his tracks, “You know I wouldn’t push you unless I was worried about you. This may be your last chance for a while to get it out in the open. No audience, just us and the trees.” Kakyoin gestures to the woods and waits as Jotaro stops and contemplates his options.

He heaves a sigh before continuing to walk and Kakyoin grins knowing he’s won. “It’s complicated because I don’t really understand what’s going on myself. I know I don’t really know her yet, but at the same time I don’t care about that at all.” Jotaro ruffles his hair in frustration and embarrassment. “The old man thinks its my instincts trying to tell me she’s my mate, or potential mate at least. Logically, I know I should take it slow and get to know her first like a normal person, but…”

“But we’re not normal people Jotaro.” Kakyoin nods sagely, the internal issues clearer to him now. “But she’s not a normal person either. From what I can see, she’s just as eager to get closer to you too.” He can see Jotaro’s shoulders slump in relief as they keep walking the path. “You do have options here, but you need to figure out what you want first. And you don’t have to take Joseph’s words to heart. We’re not going to have the same thoughts on pack bonds and mates as the full wolf members of the pack do.”

“True.” Jotaro sighs again, “Maybe it’s just my human half making me over think this. Gramps and the others don’t seem to have a problem just following their instincts wherever they lead to.”

“Well, that doesn’t always work out perfectly either. That’s what my father did all his life and you know I only call home for mother’s sake these days.”

“I don’t think that’s a trait limited to wolves in that regard.” There is more of a growl in his voice than Jotaro intended. He clears his throat and continues, “Some fathers are just like that.” The rest of the walk back to camp is silent and Jotaro makes himself busy tending the fire when they arrive.

Kakyoin is equally subdued and takes a seat on the log next to Jotaro after raiding the drink selection. He hands over a bottle of beer and Jotaro quirks his head in question. Kakyoin just shrugs and pops the cap off his own, they each take a long swig and stare into the fire.

After a while its time to walk the perimeter path again, the red and black wolves moving quietly to the edge of the camp. Jotaro can’t help but sneak one more glance to where you and Polnareff are sleeping before giving the whole area one last critical look. He joins Kakyoin at the entrance but is stopped by Kakyoin’s outstretched arm before he can continue on the path. The red wolf has his nose tilted to the air so Jotaro follows suit. A slightly sour smell, like a mixture of garbage and deer musk assaults his nose before a breeze makes him loose the scent. Kakyoin must have lost it too based on the way he opens his eyes and searches the woods around. Nothing seems out of place, all the trees around silent and still. The animals have still not reappeared and the silence makes each footstep loud and clear as a bell. Another strong breeze makes the trees creak and groan, leaves shifting and rattling on the ground.

The soured smell is back again as they reach a landmark tree indicating they need to turn left soon, but as they pass it by, they are met with unfamiliar woods in front of them. The trees groan in the wind again, but Jotaro notices no leaves shift from their spots on the ground. They both freeze and turn in place, Kakyoin barely catches movement from his right where the landmark tree is, the roots undulating and creeping like snakes before quickly resettling.

“Jojo, the trees…”

“Yeah, I saw it. Not just the trees though, look at the branches on that bush.” The shrub in question was undoubtedly larger than it was a few seconds ago, its branches and twigs looked like they were caught in the wind but were using the movement to disguise how they grew and stretched themselves towards the wolves.

Jotaro’s fur stands straight up, there was no telling how far off the path they’ve been led. Were they even in range of the camp to hear if anything was also going wrong there? They’d have to rely on the scent trail to get back before… The sour smell from earlier is suddenly overpowering as a few trees about fifty feet away move on their own to make way for a giant creature lumbering towards them. Its beady eyes are focused on them and it grins, revealing jagged teeth as it lifts its arm. The plants around them writhe and tangle themselves at the leshin’s command.

Kakyoin growls loudly as he cuts away reaching branches with his claws. Jotaro focuses on the creature before them, looking for any obvious weaknesses. Its body is gigantic, probably twelve feet tall even though it was hunched over and dragged its knuckles like a great ape while it walked. Rough textured skin peeked out between ragged pelts and tufts of mossy hair on its body, probably the most vulnerable targets at a glance. On its head it wore a deer skull like a helmet, the antlers scraping branches above it with each bob of its head.

It’s distracted with pushing a tree out of its way to make room for its body and Jotaro uses the moment to rush forward, Kakyoin following right behind him. They quickly close the distance and lunge at the beast leaving deep gouges in the creature’s skin. No blood rises to the surface of the cuts though, in fact, the leshin makes almost no note of the injuries. They repeat their attack, but the rough patches only splinter like tree bark as they make contact. It retaliates and swings a fist at them but it’s too slow to connect.

They quickly fall back out of range to regroup. Jotaro growls lowly with his hackles raised, “Its skin is too thick to break through.” The leshin raises its arms again and they cut away the creeping branches.

“We can out run it though. Get back to camp and get everyone out of here.” Kakyoin pants as he slashes at vines threatening to anchor them to the ground. Jotaro nods and turns towards the woods, Kakyoin leading the way back to camp. The creature catches onto their plan though and with a chilling wail the trees in front of them weave into a solid wall before their eyes.

Roots spring up from underground and snare their legs too quickly to cut away. The creeping vines quickly climb up past their hips and tangle their claws when they come close enough. Their struggle is fruitless and the leshin lumbers closer to them making up for its speed handicap by totally immobilizing its prey. It reaches for Kakyoin and its massive hand is large enough to completely wrap around his torso as it plucks him from the ground.

Jotaro’s eyes widen and redoubles his efforts to get free as Kakyoin is lifted towards the creature’s mouth. He glances around desperately looking for something that can aid him before it’s too late. The trees and roots are still undulating wildly, rocks and dead branches pushed out of the way for the living plants. Living plants. Of course, it was only able to control living things! He’s finally able to free one of his arms and grabs a rock laying near his feet. It flies free of his grasp and shatters the nose of the dear skull on the leshin’s head sending shards of bone into the creature’s forehead and eyes.

The leshin howls in pain using its free hand to brush away the shards and lowers Kakyoin towards the ground. Kakyoin had been scratching and clawing at the gigantic hand still squeezing him but uses the opportunity to grab onto a large rock as he’s swung low to the ground. The creature recovers and swings Kakyoin back up towards its mouth. The rock Kakyoin is holding slams into its face as he swings his arms with all his strength and the creature wails in pain again.

Keeping hold of the large rock, Kakyoin quickly shoves it into the mouth of the screaming leshin, sinking his arms up to the elbow to lodge the rock in its throat. He’s barely able to withdraw before the leshin snaps its jaws shut. Its wails and cries now reduced to gurgling choking as its eyes begin to bulge and look franticly around the woods. Panic is starting to set in as it’s unable to draw in air, its grip on Kakyoin finally releasing and control over the plants waning. The drop to the floor is jarring and Kakyoin scrambles to regain his footing, one arm braced across his stomach where the leshin’s grip had tightened painfully.

Jotaro is finally free of the vines and roots that kept him bound in place and sprints over to where Kakyoin is hunched over, grabbing him under the arms and dragging him away from the creature as it fumbles and thrashes. Its gnarled hands grasp at its throat, clawing and scraping away at its own bark-like skin. It rises to its full height and stumbles backwards, beady eyes rolling in their sockets and tongue hanging from its gaping mouth. One of its arms flails wildly before making contact with its mouth, pushing fingers into its own throat to try and dislodge the rock but only pushing it deeper. The lack of air finally makes it loses consciousness and it falls back into the trees with a crash.

Kakyoin stands, panting as they watch the leshin twitch in its death throws, both he and Jotaro winded but thankfully just bruised from the encounter. The woods around them are again still and silent, trees and roots creaking and groaning in protest to their new locations but no longer moving on their own. They keep their eyes locked onto the creature as they catch their breath but as soon as they recover, they turn back to the path. The markings on the trees can’t be trusted to lead them so they rely on smell as they run through the woods back to camp.

They burst past the line of trees into camp and take stock of the scene. The fire is burning low, but everything else seems to be just as they left it. Jotaro motions to the truck and Kakyoin nods and makes his way over to wake Joseph and Avdol. From where he’s standing, he can see you and Polnareff are still sleeping, your face pushed into the white wolf’s back for warmth and Polnareff has wrapped himself around one of the makeshift pillows. Jotaro shakes you awake first; you grumble and reluctantly roll over to look at him. “We’re leaving early.”

A kick of adrenalin feels like ice shooting through your veins, fully alert and stiffly sitting up to look around the camp for danger. Nothing seems out of place so you turn your attention to Jotaro. He’s panting slightly but seems fine other than some random leaves and twigs stuck in his fur. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” you ask as you stand up from the leaf bed and keep a careful eye on the woods.

Polnareff is grumbling as he’s woken up too but Jotaro turns to you and answers, “We encountered a creature, I’m not even sure what it was.” Another spike of adrenalin rushes you, “We took it down but I don’t want to take any chances that it had friends out here. I’ll explain more in the car when we’re out of here.” You and Polnareff nod and help him to quickly pack up camp.

Joseph and Avdol make their way out of the truck just as you finish smothering the fire, Kakyoin behind them and once again in his human form. Jotaro drops his transformation as Joseph approaches him and claps his hand to Jotaro’s shoulder as he looks him over for new injuries. A few new scrapes have appeared on his skin but you were correct earlier when you didn’t see any serious ones. He huffs as he completes his visual check and pulls Jotaro into a tight hug. “We’re really having some shitty luck lately, aren’t we son?” he pulls away with a grin as Jotaro mumbles out his trademark ‘good grief’, but you see the small smirk on his face too. “Kakyoin told us the… thing… out there is dead?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather we get out of here as soon as possible. We don’t know if it was the only one here.” Avdol nods at the order and gets to work arranging the seats and loading gear into the truck. You and Polnareff are the last to drop your transformations and the chilly morning air causes you to shiver. It’s still a few hours till dawn, but soon you are all ready and seated in the warm truck, Joseph is acting as navigator as Avdol drives carefully out of the woods, the last leg of your journey to New York City now underway.

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Author’s Note:

I just keep falling further and further behind, don’t I? I try to write for at least an hour a day on my lunch break, but between this chapter being SOOO long and my lunches being shorter lately... well better late than never! 

[nakedmossy]

Depth Over Distance - Part One [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I haven’t found a hometown Rudy fic yet soooo I wrote one. I have no idea where this story is going to go and I’m honestly finding it hard to get out of writing JJ and get into writing Rudy, but here we go anyways. I wanted to write something where the reader and Rudy were hometown friends before he moved to LA, and to explore the idea of how that would change/what it would look like when he comes back. Get ready for a S L O W. B U R N. my dudes. Peace and love, Mossy x]

The sky was grey and the air was wet - it had been raining for 4 days straight. You sat in your car with the heat cranked, your window down slightly so that the humidity didn’t fog up your mirrors. Living on the Alaskan coast was beautiful most of the time but horrible some of the time, especially when you had to waste gas just keeping warm and dry at 6pm in the beginning of ‘Summer’. 

You had never lived anywhere else aside from the summer you spent in Vancouver with your cousin when you were 19. Now, at 23, you were working full time at the local bookshop that was an 8 minute drive from your house in the winter and a 20 minute walk/skate in the summer. Your car was parked street side, waiting for your friend Lizzy to finish her shift at the cafe. The smell of the rain and the Ben Howard song on the radio made you nostalgic about the times you and your friends from high school had spent hours skating down these streets, beers in your backpacks, no helmets, dirty shoes and clothes, no pressure, no responsibilities, no cell service...no worries. 

Since graduation a lot of your friends had moved out of town, either to Anchorage or down to Washington, or further south. Your best friend Lizzy had stayed close to home, helping run her families business and working part time at the cafe. You had stayed local too...your dad owned a fishing guide business and your mom was an admin assistant for the MD in town, but neither made enough to cover all the medical bills you had racked up over the last few years. You figured once the debt was paid off you might leave...but you had no idea where you would go. 

You missed all of your friends, but you missed the boys the most, aside from Lizzy you didn't have a lot of female friends, and your boys had been like brothers to you. You spoke to most of them every few weeks on FaceTime, except Rudy. He had gone to LA for awhile and had kept in touch loosely, but after the first few months he started to drift. 

You felt the loss the hardest for Rudy. He had been your closest friend the longest, you had spent nearly every day of every summer together since you were 9, and every school year you worked the same part time job at the seafood restaurant on the water. Now, the last you heard, he was coming back for the summer to ‘reconnect’. You had low expectations and tried not to let yourself get excited, but truthfully, you wanted him to spend some time at home and be around his own kind again - he had always been a homebody and you were worried that being gone for 4 years would go to his head or change him.

Lizzy tapped on the glass, causing you to blink out of your reverie and smile at her. You rolled the window down and let her reach in and open the door from the inside (the handle had been broken since high school). She threw her backpack and skateboard in the back seat, climbing in and closing her door.

“Ugh.” She grunted as her teeth chattered and she rubbed her bare legs. 

“You know its only May, you shouldn’t even be wearing shorts yet. The snow just melted.”

Lizzy glared at you playfully and put her hand out to do your handshake. You did it, then put the car in drive and started slowly down the street, windshield wipers moving rhythmically.

“How was the shift?” You asked as you checked your mirrors and wiped some humidity off the rear view. 

“Same old” Lizzy leaned back in her seat and pulled the visor mirror down to fix her hair. “That old man Collins from the cannery keeps coming in and harassing me.”

“Jack? The one with the eye patch?” 

Lizzy nodded dramatically as she held the bobby pins in her mouth and started to twist her straight black hair off her face. 

“That guy-“ She finished placing the final pin and slammed the visor closed “-Is an absolute creep.”

You snorted a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes.

“He’s like...70. And widowed. Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude. Im just...asserting my boundaries.”

“You literally have a 3 foot counter between you at minimum, at all times.” You looked over at her and raised your eyebrows.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is we need hotter men in this town. Like...soon.”

You nodded in agreement and felt your eyes wander all over the road, remembering the time you and Rudy had taken your longboards down it after a torrential downpour and you had crashed and gotten such bad road burn that he had to call his dad to come pick you both up because you couldn’t walk.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening?” Lizzy cut back in, staring at you.

“No, what?”

“I said, speaking of hot guys, I heard Rudy is coming back for a few months.”

You pinched your face and looked at her then at the road, then back at her.

“Rudy is not hot. Rudy is....Rudy. What are you talking about?”

Lizzy looked at you disbelieving and closed her mouth, trying not to smile.

“What!” You repeated, smacking her arm.

“Hey!” She laughed, then shook her head and looked out the window. “Whatever you say man, I just think....” She grabbed her water bottle and began to screw off the lid “I just think...he’s not gonna be the same Rudy that left 4 years ago. He’s like...a movie star now.”

You couldn’t even begin to touch that one. You knew what she was doing...she was always harping on you about going on dates or taking trips with her to the mainland to hook up with the pilots during their layovers. You never went, and always insisted that you were just fine and were not interested. She never listened. Part of that was true...you were fine, and usually not interested. But sometimes, when the water was calm and the sunset was colourful and the fish were jumping and your beer was cold...you wished you had someone to share it with.

“I’m going up to Skagway this weekend with my dad” You said, changing subjects. “He’s short a guide and needs someone to drive the boat.”

“Lucky you” She said sarcastically, screwing the lid back on her bottle. “Another weekend spent with men twice your age who have zero ability to catch a fish and even less ability to smell nice.” 

“It’s good money.” You said flatly, annoyed that everything seemed to revolve around men with her. “And in case you forgot I’m kinda in need of that at the moment.”

Lizzy licked her lips and put her hands up, dipping her head. 

“Alright...noted. Chill out Kemosabe.” She giggled under her breath and looked out her window, drawing a small penis in the moisture on the window.

“Babe, seriously. You need to get laid.” You said, shaking your head.

“I know” She replied, working on the veins. “Trust me. Im in a state of national emergency by this time of year.”

Lizzy was absolutely one of the girliest girls (and most beautiful girls) in the south of Alaska, which was ironic considering the house she grew up in. Her dad was an overweight German restaurant entrepreneur who had opened a world class seafood restaurant in Juneau back in the 90s and had shacked up with her mother who was this drop dead gorgeous Haida warrior woman who you had literally seen kill and skin a bear with her own hands. 

They had forged this chain of restaurants local to Alaska that people flew hundreds of miles to eat at, but still lived in an off-grid cabin that hadn’t been insulated since 1960 and used wood heating. Not really the type of family that screamed southern belle femininity - yet somehow Lizzy came out of that union with a pink bed set, refusing to ever wear camo or sweatpants, and still had never shot a gun - which her mother reminded her of weekly. 

Lizzy had hit puberty at 10 and had used her breast advantage over every girl in your class for the next 3 years like some sort of distinction of better genetics, as if she needed boobs to prove that. Unlike you, she was naturally thin and tall (6ft to be precise), had long, thick straight black hair and olive skin, and perfect hips. You felt like a prepubescent boy standing next to her, with your uneven complexion and your frizz and your awkward thigh fat distribution. You were envious of her genetics - her mother graced her with the body of an athlete and the thick black hair, and her father had given her height and cheekbones that could slice through glass. You looked down at your arms, covered in freckles, pasty white from lack of sun, and cringed, looking back at the road.

You turned the corner leaving the main road and starting on the dirt road that led to your favourite part of beach access. Lizzy pulled her hoodie out of her backpack and took off her seatbelt, leaning forward to pull it down over her head. You leaned forward and looked up, this was your favourite part of the drive. The dirt road which was lined with moss and ferns and other foliage wound along the base of the snow capped mountain that was at least 1000ft in elevation. The mist and fog from the coast was thick and creeped through the tall cedar trees, black ravens and falcons flying overhead stark against the white mist. This was the most idyllic picture of northwest coastal living you could find.

When you parked at the trail head Lizzy slipped off her work flats and into her Teva’s, you grabbed your yellow Vans out of your trunk and slipped them on. You usually drove bare foot, a habit you had started in high school after Rudy had thrown your shoes off the dock at the restaurant and you had to drive home without any. You grabbed your sweater and your backpack which had the beer in it. As you were both gathering the rest of your things...beach blanket, hats, and rain cover, you heard a car pull up behind you. You stood up out of the trunk and squinted to see the car through the fog. It was a black ford pickup you had never seen before. 

“Who’s that?” Lizzy chimed in from behind you.

“No clue” You said as you lifted your hand to wave once. 

The truck had tinted windows and looked brand new. When it pulled up beside you, the drivers side window began to unroll, revealing Junior - your high school (ex) sweetheart.

“Holy” You said, eyebrows up, nodding. “Nice truck - where’d you steal it from?” He rolled his eyes at you dramatically.

“Whatever kid - its a rental. Got it to drive to the airport in.” His chest puffed out and his expression read so proud. 

“Airport?” You said inquisitively. “Since when does Alan pay you to drive new trucks to the airport?” 

“Since Rudy hired him for the pick up service and apparently is incapable of driving his own ass around anymore” Junior snorted and waved at Lizzy.

“Or he doesn’t have a car here anymore” You noted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Either way, I get this bad boy for the next 24 hours and I intend to give her the royal grand tour of our humble town.” He ran his hand up and down the steering wheel, stroking the new leather. “Wanna go for a rip?” He said, winking. You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Well I do” Lizzy piped up from beside you, walking closer to the window. She smiled at Junior and began to put her hair in a pony tail. She nudged your arm as she began to walk to the passenger side door. “Come on, granny. Let’s go!”

She laughed as she climbed up into the truck, but you shook your head again.

“I’m good...you kids have fun. Say hi to Rudy for me” You said to Junior, who shrugged his head and muttered ‘definitely wont do that’ under his breath.

Lizzy blew a kiss at you and waved once before Junior put it in drive and started to go up the dirt road north of you. 

Junior and you had ended on okay terms, but he had concocted a theory that you had broken up with him because of another guy, and the unspoken suggestion was that that guy had been Rudy. Small town guys had a heck of a time with the idea of girls and guys just being friends. 

You sighed and watched as the truck disappeared around the corner, and turned back to your own car. You grabbed your backpack and slammed the trunk closed, walking down the path alone. You weren’t mad at Lizzy for going with him - she was flighty and bailed on you at the bar all the time - but you were mad the beer was going to go warm before you could drink it all. Not that you should even be drinking 6 beers alone by the water when you had to drive yourself home. Doubtful the 2 cops in this town would even be awake to see you though. Whatever.

You reached the end of the path and rounded the corner, revealing the coast line and the rocky beach. It was your favourite place to sit and think, sit and smoke, sit and be yourself. The beach curled in a U shape, giving you a private spot where the rest of the shoreline was blocked from view and all you could see was the ominous cedar forest that stretched up the mountain, the snow caps at the top, and the horizon over the cold pacific.

You had intended to share the joint you had in your pocket with Lizzie, but...well, her loss. You spread the blanket out on the softest patch of sand and rocks you could find (which still meant you were guaranteed to get at least 2 rocks in the ass) and placed your bag down, kicking off your sneakers. You took a deep breath for the first time in a few days and lit the joint, taking one long, deep inhale. You felt it tingle through your chest and your arms and legs almost immediately, relaxing you. Being here alone always sent you into a spiral of memories and thoughts that you worked hard during the day to suppress. Most insistent lately had been thoughts about your health problems. You called them ‘health problems’ but in reality it was just an eating disorder. You could go 2, sometimes 3 days without eating anything, and never felt hungry. It started after graduation.

You had lost weight, dramatically, going from a stable 120-125 to 95 at most and 90 at worst, in the span of a month. And for the next three years you had never gained it back, you had stayed at a relatively stable 95, which still left you looking sickly and too thin at 5’3”. Your frame wasn’t built for that kind of weight drop, you were Scottish and Cree, sprinkled with a little bit of German and Irish. A classic northwest cracker mix. You weren’t naturally small, you always had a bit of something to grab onto, but it was normal to your body, healthy. 

Some part of your brain knew that it had something to do with leaving school...and the pretence that came with that. The expectation...the responsibility. You were never that kind of person, and it never really bothered you, but suddenly it had. You never planned to go to University right away, but you had no back up plan. It wasn't something you and your friends really talked about. But suddenly Jacob had gotten into U of Washington, Dan had left to backpack Europe, and Rudy had not so graciously announced he was deferring his acceptance and scholarship to culinary school because he wanted to be an actor, and flew to LA the next month. You had been left behind, with Lizzy of all people, and it had hit you hard.

You looked around the beach, dragging on your joint quicker than normal, trying to knock the thoughts out of your head. An Eagle screeched above - scaring you - and you laid back on the blanket, closing your eyes. You needed to chill the hell out. This was the first time in a few weeks that you had gotten a night off from helping your dad with his guide business and you didn’t plan on wasting it riddling your brain with anxiety and worrying about your body.

You looked up at the sky and watched the mist and fog kiss the clouds, the sunset colours dancing across them. As it usually did, the rain had stopped just as the sun was going down, the clouds parting briefly and letting the smallest sliver of sunlight through, just enough to burn the grey light out of the sky and allow the pink and orange hues to fade along the horizon. You sat up and cracked a beer, enjoying the fresh smelling air and the rhythmic sound of the waves licking the shore line. 

Two beers in you had put on your jacket and placed your Bluetooth speaker next to you on the blanket, blasting a playlist that Rudy had made you for your graduation party.

Three beers in you took the jacket off, standing up and dancing by yourself on the beach to the music.

Four beers in you laid down on the blanket, balled your jacket up and used it as a pillow, and started looking for shapes in the stars.

Five beers in you fell sleep.

———

Many hours later, as the sun rose and was bright on the water and the early morning bird feed was in full swing overhead, you were drifting in and out of sleep to the squawking when a shadow came across your face, alerting you to groggily open your eyes.

“What’s up, Little Fern?” His voice had gotten deeper. Wait, what?

You opened your eyes and blinked, raising a hand to block the sun. There, in your very awake and very not dreaming state, was the unmistakable silhouette that you had spent the last 18 years dreaming about and 18 years being a friend to.

Rudy.

[shaalk]

Bored

Type: Oneshot

Characters: Jongin X Reader

Genre: Smut, Boyfriend AU

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Mentions of wanting to get caught while having sex, Cumshot

Status: Completed

Summary: In which Jongin tries his best to liven up a boring and repetitive afternoon.

Words: 1887

Tags: @christiandosworld​​ @writingstuffandmore​

My aunty is a natural born entertainer. By that, I don’t mean the kind that acts or sings for their fans. I'm talking about the type that loves having people over at their place often. 

So, it really isn’t a surprise to me when she plans a barbecue session on a random Sunday afternoon. The guests are always the same. A few relatives, some of her neighbours and my boyfriend.

Jongin is always invited to such gatherings because my family has been extremely attached to him since he and I got together. Despite his exceptionally good looks that might make him come off as haughty and play-boyish sometimes, he is the total opposite. He is down-to-earth, bubbly and kind. If the older relatives need help, he is always there like superman, and if my young cousins or nephews and nieces need someone to play with, he always volunteers. 

Overall, my family finds him a fun person to be around and have been pestering me to get married to him. He is present a lot, so much so that everyone practically considers him family already. If I am at an event, there is a high chance that Jongin is glued to me by my hip. We almost, if not always, come as a set.

The party is underway and since I see all the visitors at least 3 to 4 times a month, I stick by Jongin’s side, just like I do at all the other parties my aunty has organised before. 

While almost all the guests are out in the backyard, eating and chatting animatedly like they haven’t seen each other in ages when they probably just met the week before, Jongin and I, along with a few usual guests, are hanging out in the living room.

We’re watching a re-run of a sappy romance drama that I have already seen before, so I am just leaning against Jongin’s body, eyes unfocused and drooping. My boyfriend has an arm over my shoulder, his fingers mindlessly playing with my hair, practically lulling me to sleep.

I sigh softly causing Jongin to turn around and look at me, his lips almost imprinting themselves on my forehead from how close he is seated to me. 

“Bored?” 

I pout and nod. 

He wrinkles his button nose cutely and smirks at me mischievously. He removes his arm from around my shoulders, gets up from the couch and pulls me up with him. 

The other guests' eyes flickers to us to observe what we are up to and then go back to concentrating on the drama before them almost immediately.

“Where are we going?”

“Just come with me.” 

Jongin drags me up the flight of stairs and into the bathroom at the end of the corridor. Once in, he turns around and busies himself with locking the door while I stand there listlessly. I study his broad back with raised brows because what the heck can we possibly do in the toilet that would alleviate my boredom? 

But I don’t have to ponder for long because when Jongin turns around to face me, his eyes are dark and dilated. I gulp and my tongue darts out to moisten my dry lips, already knowing what is in store for me.

Jongin saunters towards me like a hyena while I inch backwards like a docile prey until the back of my thighs hit the sink counter. The male darts forward and plants both his hands beside my body, caging me.

I grin toothily when Jongin leans into me, making him kiss my bared teeth. The 6 feet tall male starts whining and bouncing on the balls of his feet. I quickly let him have his way to shut him up, lest we both get caught and have people asking us what on earth we are doing in the bathroom together. 

Yes the bathroom is at the end of the corridor but it isn’t soundproof and I just can’t risk it.

Jongin hums into the kiss, glad that I have given in to him. His hands snake their way around my waist to lift me up and plop me onto the counter. 

My legs immediately wrap themselves around his slender waist, pulling him impossibly closer to me. His growing crotch is brushing directly against the wet spot on my panties since I am wearing a short summer dress that has ridden up. 

I moan into the kiss as Jongin rubs himself against my heat. His palms travel up to knead my smooth, bare thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I pull away from the kiss first, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen in my lungs. Jongin’s lips are red and swollen, mirroring my own. 

"You won't be needing this." 

My boyfriend grins excitedly as he reaches under my dress to pull my thong off. I lift my hips to assist him and then I busy myself with unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans and boxers till his mid-thigh, just enough for his erect member to peek out. 

Jongin shoves my underwear in his back pocket and strokes his cock to get it harder and ready. His other hand comes up to run down the length of my wet folds, checking how ready I am for his onslaught. 

He licks his juicy lips in appreciation when he feels my warm liquids coating his digit. He sucks on the damp finger and then nudges my shoulder so that I am leaning back, my weight on my palms and my butt hanging off the counter. 

Jongin grasps my legs and hangs them over the crook of his arms. He glances at me for confirmation and as soon as I nod, he beams like a child who has just gotten candy. 

The male presses the bulbous head of his cock against my slit and inches himself into me slowly, my tight walls immediately hugging onto his girth like they have missed him. 

I throw my head back, hitting the mirror behind me in the process. Jongin draws out only to push back into me immediately. He is careful not to slam into me too hard because any loud noises can attract unwanted attention from the guests downstairs. 

Still, the force of his hips gyrating into mine is enough to rattle all the bottles of soap and lotion on the sink counter I am almost splayed out on. 

Jongin continues thrusting into me leisurely. The only sounds in the bathroom are our heavy panting and the significant squelch of my pussy every time he moves in and out of me. 

There is a small window beside us that overlooks the backyard and if I crane my neck enough, from where we are positioned, I can see the guests mingling around with each other. 

When the laughter noises from outside float up, the magnitude of how quickly and easily we can get discovered hits me. If someone decides to just look up a little, we would get caught and that makes my stomach tighten. The thought of doing something so indecent and risky with Jongin behind closed doors while my family and relatives are only a few feet away turns me on to no extent.

Jongin notices that I am not paying attention to him so he licks the tip of his finger and fondles my bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. 

My head immediately flies to focus on him, neck almost cracking in the process. I am letting out hurried pants already and if Jongin continues playing with my clit like that, I won’t be able to keep my noises at bay. 

I grab his hand, trying to make him stop his ministrations but he is far too strong for me.

I am letting out soft pants and they just sound too loud in the quiet bathroom so Jongin presses his other hand against my mouth to muffle my noises as he shushes me. 

I close my eyes, just savouring the feeling of being filled to the hilt by the man I love most in the world. He is going slow enough that I can feel every vein and ridge of his penis.

All of a sudden, Jongin gives me a particularly hard thrust. My eyes widen and I perk up immediately. Despite his hand over my mouth, I still feel that I am being too loud. 

So I sit myself up, evidently removing Jongin’s hand that is over my mouth, and encircle my arms around his shoulders, dragging him into my embrace. I shove my face into the crook of his neck and nibble on his shoulder. Jongin’s arm that is still between my legs continues toying with my clit while the free one grabs my ass, piercing fingernails into the soft flesh.

With the change of angle, Jongin is hitting me right at my sweet spot. I wrap my legs around his torso, pressing the heels of my feet into his firm butt, urging him to make me cum already.

The tell-tale sign of my orgasm approaching comes, a hard tug at the pits of my belly. My mouth parts in a soundless scream when my high crashes over me, my lower body quivering on its own accord. Jongin removes his finger from my abused clit, not wanting to overstimulate me because I definitely will scream and blow our cover if he continues that action.

Once I stop gushing over him, Jongin pulls out of me to start pumping his member. I tap my swollen clit softly at the view of my boyfriend jerking himself off in front of me, prolonging my orgasm. 

The male groans lowly when the first spurt of his cum shoots out and lands on my inner thigh. My hand glides lower to spread open my pussy lips so that Jongin can shoot his hot load all over my folds. I use his cream as lubricant to continue playing with my clit until the last wave of pleasure runs through my bones and then I slump back to rest against the mirror. 

Jongin slouches forward, resting his head on my protruding collarbone. This is by far the quickest and quietest session we have ever had but also the most intense at that. We are both heaving, sweat matting our hair to our foreheads.

We take a moment to regulate our breathing and then decide to start cleaning ourselves up. We have been away from the crowd for quite a while and I am worried someone will be suspicious of our disappearance. 

Jongin helps me slip on my thong even though my lower region is still painted with his cum. He then lifts me off the counter and places me back down on my feet. I am all smiles as I comb Jongin’s hair to make him look more presentable while he does the same to mine. 

I am practically glowing from the aftermath of our intense session.

"Still bored?"

I shake my head blissfully. 

Jongin is radiating with glee as well when he leans in to press a kiss on the apple of my cheek. I intertwine my fingers with my boyfriend's before I yank him back downstairs so that we can join my family in the backyard, all the while feeling his sticky cum in between my legs.

A/N: Let me know what you think! Please drop a comment :)

[love-bean]

Spectacular - Prologue

so hello! i decided i would upload this in parts since it is quite long lol this is gonna be a little prologue type thing to help you get to know my oc a little bit and get the ball rolling. so without further ado!

wk: 1760

-o-o-o-o-o-

Growing up, Anastasia never understood why she had to be prim and proper while all of her older brothers did not. It made her life particularly un-spectacular.

“Miss Mackenzie,” the governess sighed. “Please do not do this today.”

“I just want an answer!” the nine-year-old groaned. “Why can’t I learn to shoot and ride and fight the way they can?”

“Augustus does not shoot or fight,” the governess pointed out.

“Augustus is only one year my senior. Our other brothers did not learn to fight until they were nearing 12,” the girl grumbled.

Sighing, the elder woman sat down beside her pupil. “Anastasia, there are many things a boy must learn in order to become a man. But there are different things that a girl must learn in order to become a woman. Unfortunately, although your mother has passed and you have no older sisters, you still must learn these things, no matter how upsetting it is to you.”

The little girl frowned and crossed her arms. They were both silent for a few moments before the governess placed a gentle hand on her knee.

“How about after we finish our lessons today, I will summon Alexander and perhaps he will take you riding.”

It wasn’t until she met Eloise Bridgerton that she truly understood the pressure of a young woman in society.

“It’s unfair,” Anastasia, aged 13 years, complained as she kicked a stray rock from the path.

“I agree,” Eloise replied, walking arm-in-arm with her new friend.

“Respectfully, you do not understand,” Anastasia said. “You have your mother, and your older sister, Daphne. You are well-guided. And you do not have to be perfect! I am the only girl in my family, and the youngest, and-”

“Anastasia,” Eloise interrupted gently. “Do not work yourself up. While I am not in the exact same position, I will still have to be a perfect lady eventually. Daphne will be married someday, and the responsibility will fall onto me to help guide Francesca and Hyacinth.”

They walked silently for a few moments before Eloise snorted out a laugh.

“Besides, your first season won’t even be for seven more years. You have plenty of time to perfect the art of perfection.”

Seven years. Anastasia wasn’t supposed to debut in society until after she turned twenty. That all changed when her governess fell ill and passed away shortly before her seventeenth birthday.

It was a hard loss for the Mackenzies, but it was particularly difficult for the youngest member of the family. Mrs. Henrietta Hobbs was the only female figure Anastasia had ever known, having been less than one month old when her own mother passed.

But the loss of Mrs. Hobbs sped Anastasia’s life into motion.

Anastasia stood in the sitting room by the window, watching the rain drizzle over London. It looked as miserable outside as she felt, and while not usually content to sit still, she did not have the energy to do much else.

“Sister.”

A gentle voice broke her from her trance and she wiped a stray tear away before turning her head toward the door where her eldest brother stood.

“Yes, Alexander?” she replied.

“Father would like us all to meet in the study,” he said, offering his hand. “That means you too.”

She nodded and walked toward him, wrapping her arm around his and allowing him to lead her through their home. In the study, their father sat behind his large wooden desk while their other three brothers had gathered in front of him.

“Ah, my beginning and end,” Lord Mackenzie said as his remaining two children entered the study.

As they joined their siblings, he stood.

“As you all know, we have been mourning the recent loss of Mrs. Hobbs,” he said, glancing at his daughter. “As a result, Anastasia, you will make your debut in this upcoming season. I will chaperone you as well as your four brothers. Am I clear?”

And make her debut she did. Not only was she named the diamond of the first water that season, but she found a husband by her third ball.

Of course, she shared many dances with many different suitors, all wishing to claim the hand of the only Mackenzie daughter. Mostly, however, she socialized with the three eldest Bridgertons, who were the only ones in attendance apart from their mother and who had become her close friends over the years she had known Eloise.

Anastasia stood at the edge of the ballroom, attached to her eldest brother’s protective arm, when three familiar faces approached them.

“Hello, Mackenzies,” Anthony greeted.

“Hello, Bridgertons,” Alexander replied in a similar fashion.

“Miss Mackenzie,” Benedict said, bowing his head slightly. “You look beautiful this evening.”

“Just this evening?” Anastasia teased. 

“I have always favored pink on you,” he replied with a lopsided smirk.

“Well, I am glad to have pleased you tonight and I will have to continue my efforts in doing so for the future,” she said dryly.

“She hates pink,” Augustus interrupted, flashing his younger sister a mischievous grin.

“You try having to wear nothing but the wretched color for your entire life,” she snapped quietly before straightening her posture and recovering from her unladylike outburst. “It is the color of weakness, of softness. It is the same color of dress every young lady wears to every ball; the same young ladies who fawn over my brothers, of all of you, I am sure.”

“In my opinion, softness is not equal to weakness,” Benedict quipped. “Tulips bear the same color, and yet they manage to survive the harshest of winters and longest of summers.”

“Only to be picked by a careless person and die within days,” she argued.

“Ever the optimist, Ana,” he said, tone warm and fond.

She rolled her eyes. “You have not called me that since I was but a child.”

“You are still but a child,” he said. “But over the years I have had the pleasure of knowing you, I have watched you blossom into a beautiful young woman, much like a tulip.”

She shook her head, chuckling.

“Please, Benedict,” Andrew groaned. “If you’re going to court my sister, fine. But at least ask her to dance first.”

In the end, it was one Lord George Weston who had the honor of marrying the youngest Mackenzie.

Lord Weston was nineteen years Anastasia’s senior, making him thirty-six at the time of their marriage. He was a kind and gentle man, expecting nothing but companionship from the girl.

In the long line of Westons, it was common for a man to die at a relatively young age. They often grew very tired very quickly, and were usually in a great deal of pain. Once infection set in, there would not be much time left.

George was no exception, and he knew that.

So, all he wanted was a companion to live out the rest of his days. He did not wish for heirs, for to produce an heir was to force upon them the same fate he would suffer. Half of his fortune would be inherited by a cousin on his mother’s side, one with heirs who would live until he was old and grey. The other half would remain with his wife.

And for which, he desired was a kind, honorable young lady whom he could spoil and make happy in his final days.

A young lady like Anastasia.

At first, he approached Lord Mackenzie with the proposal. He laid every detail out, specifying that he would seek neither a dowry nor heirs from his daughter in exchange for a few years of bliss before his time was up. Once the men were in agreement, it was explained to all of the Mackenzie children, who were under direct instruction to never speak of it to anyone else.

It was a hard secret to keep, but especially hard to keep from her dearest friend in the world.

“I cannot fathom actually being engaged at our age,” Eloise snorted.

“Eloise,” Lady Bridgerton sighed at her daughter’s noise. “Please at least try to be ladylike for once.”

“Please, Mama,” Eloise replied. “It is only my siblings and Anastasia.”

Her mother waved her hand and moved on.

“That is why I came to visit you today, El,” Anastasia said, wringing her hands. “I am engaged.”

Upon hearing the statement, Benedict began listening in on the conversation between his sister and his friend.

“Pardon?” Eloise deadpanned.

“I am engaged,” Anastasia repeated.

“To whom? When? Why?” Eloise fired.

“To Lord Weston, last night. And we are engaged because he will provide for me. He will take care of me for the rest of my days.”

“Surely you are not in love with him,” Eloise gasped.

“I am not,” Anastasia confirmed. “But I do believe I will grow fond of him.”

“Doomed to a life of fondness,” Eloise muttered. “Well, congratulations, my friend. I am happy for you if you believe you will be happy.”

“Happy about what?” Lady Bridgerton asked, only catching the end of the sentence.

“Anastasia is to be married,” Eloise said.

“Congratulations my dear!”

As he watched his family congratulate their close friend, Benedict felt his world turn upside down at the fact that the girl he loved was betrothed to another.

However, the few years Lord Weston was hoping to have turned into a few months, for he fell ill not six months after his marriage to Anastasia. And she was with him to the bitter end.

Anastasia sat in the same chair she had taken residence in for two entire weeks prior. She was at her husband’s bedside, keeping him occupied with books and art.

“Anastasia,” George croaked, interrupting the sonnet she was reading.

“Yes, my lord?” she replied, glancing up.

“I am dying,” he said. “My final days are coming, and I do not wish you to witness that.”

She placed a gentle hand on his. “I made a vow to you, and I intend to see that through.”

“I do not deserve your kindness,” he whispered.

“You have been nothing short of the perfect husband, George,” she said. “The months we have spent together, however few, have been the best of my life. I do not deserve your kindness, sir.”

“You deserve the world,” he insisted. “I do believe I have become quite fond of you.”

“And I you.”

He took his last breath three days later, his teary wife at his side. Upon his death, his cousin took over his estate and Anastasia returned to London to live with her family.

-o-o-o-o-o-

so there it is. a bit of backstory, a bit of introduction. very VERY roughly edited. i have much more coming but this just gets it going. let me know what you think if you have a spare moment! next part will either be coming tonight or tomorrow. much love x

[theonlinemuse]

And me and @freckledpianoman are back with more Beth Chapel content! Continuing from this post, here’s even more headcanons about our favourite Dr Mid-Nite: 

Beth is nearsighted and started wearing glasses when she was three and a half. Bridget started noticing that her daughter kept squinting all the time and eventually took her to an eye doctor, attributing Beth needing glasses so early to all the times that she hid under the covers with a flashlight and read late into the night instead of sleeping 

Her prescription is really strong and while her glasses correct most of her vision, she still needs accommodations like enlarged and high contrast texts and other visual aids 

Chuck eventually becomes another accommodation since he acts as a cross between telescopic and magnifying glasses and a talking watch 

She’s fluent in French thanks to her grandma Beatrice’s influence and she can carry a conversation in Spanish (she picked it up from Bridget, who often talks with her patients in Spanish) and Norwegian. That last language throws people off when they first hear about it, but it comes in handy when four-year-old Pieter Cross and his family (who don’t speak much English) move to Blue Valley from Trondheim, Norway 

Yolanda grumbles about not being able to talk to Beth in Spanish class whenever she’s home sick from school because she's the one decent conversation partner she has in that class

Rick often practices translating for his French class with Beth. Once he goofed and said “madame le docteur”. And poor Beth was close to shaking him and going, “Rick, that's wrong on so many levels” 

He knows by the incredulous look on her face that he’s all sorts of wrong and he blushes all embarrassed. But later he mistranslates on purpose just to see her adorable reactions 

She wants to pick up more languages eventually (she’s deciding if she wants to take both Mandarin and Arabic in college like her dad did) and is currently learning ASL 

Beth is a Star Trek fan thanks to her dad’s influence. She and James would watch reruns of Deep Space Nine while she was growing up and it was their way of bonding. While that tradition didn’t happen as often when Beth started high school, she and Yolanda (who had watched Voyager with her brother and cousins) eventually start a tradition of watching Star Trek Discovery 

Beth and Yolanda’s love for Star Trek is often a point of contention with Rick and Courtney, who are both Star Wars fans. It’s been the subject of a lot of arguments about what to watch for JSA marathons. Pat is usually the tie breaker 

Beth learned how to garden from her grandma Beatrice, who raises African violets in her rooftop garden. Beth’s backyard isn’t big enough for a garden so instead she keeps all sorts of plants in her room, including little teacup succulents on her bedroom windowsill and in honeycomb shelves 

While her backyard’s too small for a garden, there’s a pink dogwood tree and she loves reading and having picnics under it when it’s in bloom. In the summer Beth makes her own butterfly feeders and hang them from the tree and watch the butterflies gather 

She grew up listening to Schoolhouse Rock thanks to her dad, who would play their songs in the kitchen whenever he made breakfast on Saturday mornings while she was growing up. Even now, Beth sings along to them whenever she hears them and Chuck starting adding them to karaoke mode, including her favourites “Three is a Magic Number”, “The Tale of Mr Morton”, and “The Energy Blues” 

When she was in middle school, she started using the melody of Schoolhouse Rock songs to memorize things like country names and the periodic table. She used the latter to help Rick memorize different elements for his chem class. Yolanda actually caught Rick softly singing to himself at his locker when he was searching for his notes for one last read through 

“Beth got you to sing? Willingly?” “I wasn't singing, you’re hearing things.”

Courtney is weirded out by the fact that Beths texts with Mike of all people, but it's mostly through gifs, emojis, and random memes. She has no idea what they even talk about, saying that Beth texts with Mike more often than she does with Rick, much to the latter’s annoyance. In reality Beth and Mike talk about robotics competitions, the latest episode of whatever they were binging (this week was Julie and the Phantoms), and their ongoing bet on when Courtney and Yolanda will finally get together

If Beth wins, Mike has to help upgrade her costume and if he wins, she owes him an ice cream cake 

“It's like their own little nerd language, it makes no sense.” 

Her style icon when she was little was Ms Frizzle. Beth thought that Ms Frizzle’s themed dresses and jewellery were so cool and she wanted to dress up like her. She still loves Ms Frizzle’s style and you can see the influence it has on Beth’s fashion from bright colours, unique patterns, and quirky jewellery 

Beth has a special section in her closet for Ms Frizzle like outfits that she wears to the children’s library she volunteers at. It makes her very popular with the kids there 

She actually dressed up as Ms Frizzle for Halloween in seventh grade 

Despite being on opposite sides, Beth and Cindy have a begrudging respect for each other similar to Betty and Wilhelmina’s relationship on Ugly Betty, Beth being the JSA member that Cindy tolerates the most

Cindy begrudgingly thinks that she does know a thing or two about fashion because she often upcycles clothes. Courtney’s surprised that Beth’s still alive after she said that Cindy dresses like an evil PTA mom within earshot, though she did kidnap Beth a few times for a shopping spree 

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!” “Did you just quote Mean Girls?”  

The first time they had a standoff, Cindy went “please, I’m Japanese, you’re Black, we’re not talking around this thing like a couple of dull white people” 

Cindy once called Rick a feral raccoon and smirked when it made Beth accidentally burst out laughing 

While Beth is more than confident with her personal style, but she’s still very new to makeup in general. Yolanda and Artemis (even Cindy much to everyone’s shock) have taken it upon themselves to help experiment with makeup and find out what she likes. Beth immediately knows that she doesn’t like mascara, even as Yolanda scolds her to stay still while she’s trying to put mascara on her

“You’re making it seem like I’m torturing you.” “Your superhero costume has claws, that doesn’t exactly scream safe.” “I’ll have you know I’m very practiced with my claws, now stay still!” 

Beth likes the lipsticks and glosses much better, she likes the different colours and how it feels on her lips 

She has to get used to the feeling of makeup on her face in general, but she doesn’t mind it and she’s shocked when she looks in the mirror. It’s still very much her, but it's like she’s glowing. She can’t stop smiling and the girls all look at her fondly 

And they also exchange knowing looks, knowing that Rick is going to lose his mind 

She did a history report on Bessie Coleman in middle school and she eventually drew inspiration for her Dr Mid-Nite costume from looking at photos of Bessie’s pilot outfit 

Beth and her mom often did ceramics classes when she was a kid. They weren’t very good at it at first, but the little lopsided knick knacks they made always made them laugh. Beth and Bridget got better over the years with Beth painting colours and patterns on whatever her mom helped her make before they went into the kiln. She thought they would be plain otherwise and Bridget agreed with her 

While ceramics classes have since stopped, they still use the honeycomb mugs and planters that they made and painted when Beth was in middle school. Bridget uses one for the aloe vera plant she keeps in her office at the hospital 

Beth is allergic to pineapple. She found out during a school trip in third grade when Henry offered some of his fruit salad and she ended up with a swollen face and tongue, which really freaked Artemis and Cindy out. Yolanda and the villain kids ended up taking care of her until the ambulance came and Beth jokes that it was the one time the JSA and ISA kids worked together on something 

She now carries an epipen in her backpack and Rick has taken to carrying a backup one in his jacket in case Beth can’t get to her backpack in time 

She had a stargazing phase that she never grew out of. Her parents got her a mini telescope for her fifth birthday and Bridget started teaching her about the solar system before Beth started learning about constellations on her own. Bridget jokes that if her daughter hadn’t been set on becoming a doctor, she would’ve gone into astrophysics 

Beth still has a telescope set up by her bedroom window. Sometimes when she has trouble sleeping and she’s not in the mood to read, she’ll look for constellations through the telescope while Chuck chimes in with little known star facts 

She also has a starry globe nightlight and a constellation globe

She and Rick sometimes have stargazing “dates” out on her back porch. They curl up together in a patio chair with midnight snacks while they watch meteor showers. Sometimes Yolanda and Courtney will join them, curled up together in the other patio chair  

Beth and Courtney often have karaoke nights at the Pit Stop after Pat souped up Barbara’s old karaoke machine. The usual playlist includes fun 80s and 90s jams as well as modern songs like Bruno Mars, Lizzo, and Janelle Monae. Yolanda often joins them for girl group songs (Little Mix is a favourite), even though she protests that she’s not much of a singer when she’s not singing Selena songs 

Rick gets roped into doing a song too, much to his dismay. Courtney pouts and complains that he has to because there’s an unspoken rule that everyone has to sing

“I don't sing, dammit.” “Oh really, are you forgetting about that little ditty you were singing before your chem test?” 

Beth sees how nervous Rick is and decides to go easy on him, finding a slow, bluesy song that he can keep up with and assuring him that even if he can’t croon those long deep notes, everyone will cheer him on. He ends up giving the best performance of the night, shocking the girls and impressing them all 

He blushes when he sees Beth looking at him all starry eyed 

When Beth was growing up, her family would have game night every Thursday and they were always old fashioned board games like Clue, Scrabble, and Pictionary. Whenever they would play Clue, Beth would always choose to be Miss Scarlett while her dad would switch between Professor Plum and Colonel Mustard. Beth could never beat her mom at Scrabble and it often ended up with Beth’s chemistry words versus Bridget’s medical terms 

While game nights have since stopped, James will sometimes have Beth join him for a card game at three or four in the morning after he comes back from a business trip. He taught her how to play games like crazy eights, gin rummy, and cribbage when she was in middle school and it’s now their way of catching up after he comes back from travelling  

Both her parents are only children. James’ family was originally from California before he moved to Nebraska for work while Bridget’s family are of Louisiana Creole descent and hail from Omaha. Beth is quite close to Bridget’s side of the family, especially with her second cousin Delphine’s family. Beth sometimes helps look after Delphine’s daughter Eliana whenever she and her husband are in town 

Rick once mistook Eliana for Beth’s baby, hilarity ensued

Beth has a love for animals and since the fandom has collectively decided that Beth is a Disney Princess, she has a particular talent for being an accidental animal tamer. During a mission, three of the ISA’s attack dogs made a beeline for her and attacked her with doggie kisses instead of doing their job 

The ISA are torn between being pissed (“when the hell did Mid-Nite become an animal tamer?”) and confused. Sportsmaster is vaguely impressed and takes it as a challenge 

Later they tried scaring Beth with a python, which only really worked on Yolanda (“oh my god, what is that?”) while Beth just boops the snake on its snout. The snake swooned. So did Rick 

After Rick and Yolanda recover from the shock, they look at the trio of attack dogs follow Beth all the way to the Pit Stop and go “we’re not keeping you”. Rick just hopes that the trio are the only attack dogs that follow her back home. He wishes that he had been more specific because he was not expecting an actual maned wolf suddenly coming up and sniffing all over Beth during a visit to the Dugan-Whitmores’ cabin

“What the fuck, where did that come from and why is it all over Beth?!” 

It turns out that Beth didn’t realize that she had a cookie in one of her pockets and the maned wolf caught a whiff of it and was now trying to find it. The way it sniffs her is ticklish and she’s laughing the entire time 

Once the maned wolf brought over a friend to see Beth and Courtney goes, “aww, he met another–oh my god, that’s a panther!” The panther also wanted one of Beth’s treats and it swooped in between her and Rick and started pawing at her like a spoiled kitten 

Rick picked Beth up and carried her inside because “we can’t trust her outside anymore” 

[caspia-writes]

Summer of Whump #1 – Freezing

Summary: A soldier is stuck spending a winter in a trench in Südanglia. A winter which the Großsächsische Reichswehr did not logistically prepare for. Between the psychological toll of the conditions there and the physical effects of prolonged cold, he enters a rapid downhill spiral.

A/N: I've decided to at least play at the idea of doing some of Summer of Whump, almost as much for trying to worldbuild as anything. As the title and summary would suggest, this deals with freezing. I'd also like to note it's been a while since I wrote anything, much less this quickly and at such an ungodly hour of the morning, so this is not quite up to my usual standard.

Content warnings: death, blood, foul language, repeated god mentions

(Also perhaps not the best reading material if you're having pasta at the moment!)

Never in his life had Günther wanted a cup of coffee so badly. Though it didn’t have to be coffee. Tea would work too, he supposed. Or a good, strong spirit. Even just steaming hot water. Anything, so long as it would take the chill out of his bones for a few minutes.

But there was nothing of the sort to be had.

This fact left Günther with nothing more to do than stew in the freezing mud and contemplate the misery of his existence. It was bad enough that the trenches reeked of dysentery and gangrene, that the ground was frozen too hard to do any more digging, that dinner had been more ‘worm noodles’ that the cooks no longer even tried to disguise as anything but. What was worse was that somehow, inexplicably, even when nothing else would, the mud always managed to thaw just enough during the day to seep into a person’s clothes and boots, only to freeze again later.

In Günther’s eyes, this proved two things: first, there was a God; and second, that God was a whoreson bastard if Günther had ever known one.

It was about this time that Günther noticed the man next to him. He wasn’t sure how long the man had been there; when he’d sat down several hours ago, he hadn’t been paying much attention. But he was here now, Günther was bored of staring at sandbags, and he would be damned if he believed that the other man could sleep when it was this cold.

“This is nonsense,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the side of the trench. “We’re out here, freezing to death, shitting our guts out, no food, can’t even get a smoke. And for what? Reuniting with our Südanglian brethren?”

Günther waited a moment for a response, glanced over at the man next to him. He didn’t react at all. Not a sigh, grumble, not even shifting around in response to being bothered. Nothing at all.

“Goddamned senseless shit!” Günther hissed, and spat on the ground in front of him.

Still nothing. The man gazed silently at the mud in front of him. It was almost unnatural how still he was. He didn’t even look like he was breathing. Come to think of it, he looked remarkably like—

—like a corpse. Which would explain the red tinge to the mud stain down the front of his coat. And the hole over his heart.

It didn’t matter, or it shouldn’t have, but Günther couldn’t stop himself from wiping the gathered snow off the coat. There was no reason for it, but he had to know the name of the corpse he’d tried to talk to. He had to. Just to make sure it hadn’t been because it was a friend he’d half-recognized, or a brother, or a cousin, or, or, or...

Well.

Whoever it was, he hadn’t lived long enough to stitch his name into his coat. It was probably his first week at the front then. Maybe even his first day. And he was already dead.

But he had his tags, at least. It took several tries, and a few breaks to swallow down the bile rising in his throat, but Günther managed to hook his fingers around the chain and pull the metal out onto the front of the dead man’s coat.

Paul Wolfgang Neumann.

19.2.03.

A bullet to the chest was one hell of a birthday present. And somehow Günther couldn’t believe that it was the kid’s nineteenth birthday. Fifteenth, maybe. Though even that seemed a little generous. This Paul was—had been—tall, sure, but his face didn’t look nineteen. Maybe Günther had never really met Paul, but he knew Paul was still--had still been--a boy. Not a man.

Bile rose in Günther's throat and he forced himself to look away. There wasn't time for this sentimental nonsense. A boy Paul's age shouldn't have been out in the trenches, no. He should've been in school, or anywhere this hellhole. But what could anyone do about it now? The Anglians--or really, whoever had let the poor kid sign up for this--had killed him and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Not Günther, not the medics, not the boy's parents.

What could still change was that Günther was freezing, and he needed that coat. Paul wasn’t using it anymore. And So Günther began fumbling with the buttons, trying to pry the coat off and not think too hard about where he was getting it from.

It must've taken twenty minutes, but at last Günther got the coat off Paul and onto himself. Things picked up considerably after that. Within seconds he began patting every pocket he could find. Not for money—what good was that?—but in hopes that maybe this Paul might still have a cigarette or some alcohol he hadn't developed the taste for or even a leftover biscuit or two somewhere.

Instead of any of that, he found a letter. Nothing but a letter either. Not even the pen he must’ve used to write it.

The only useful thing he could think of to do with the letter was try and burn it. He had the matches, and it was hardly as though he could burn the trenches down when they were frozen and half-waterlogged.

But he couldn’t do it.

Paul probably had a mother and a father and some siblings, and for all Günther knew none of them had any idea that Paul had even signed up for this. They deserved a little more than another standard notice typed up by one of those girls back up at the field hospital. If his family wouldn’t get his body back—and given the bonfires and acrid black smoke that cropped up behind the field hospital every Sunday, it figured they wouldn’t—at least they might get his last letter. Or however much he’d finished of it.

Günther vowed to try and send the letter in the morning, then leaned back against the wall of the trench again and returned to contemplating his situation. He didn’t notice as the mud on his undercoat began to thaw and soak both his shirt and outer coat.

Then the wind wailed, shards of ice cutting into Günther’s face. That much he did notice. He ducked his head towards his chest and began fumbling with the coat collar. There had to be a way to get it to stand up, to put anything between his face and the little pieces of white shrapnel flying around him. If only his icy-white, numbed fingers would work. Just for a few seconds. That was all he needed, a few seconds where his fingers would work. Then the wind and snow wouldn’t seem so bad.

After several minutes, Günther left the coat collar alone and let his hands drift into the mud next to him. He didn’t need, or want, the collar up anymore. The coat worked well enough as it was. For the first time in days, Günther wasn’t cold. He was warm. Maybe even hot.

And yet, it was still snowing. How could he be warm if it were still snowing? It didn’t make any sense. The coat hadn’t been that thick, had it? His eyes were drawn first to the sleeves, if anything thinner than the coat he had on beneath it, and then once again to red-brown stain covering the front of the coat.

Blood.

That was it. Everyone knew blood was hot! Why hadn’t Günther thought of it before? The coat was hot because there was blood on it. If he’d just had the sense to take a coat off some other corpse before, he wouldn’t have been so miserable these last weeks.

Or maybe he’d spoken too soon.

The blood was hot, yes. In fact, it was too hot. He needed to take it off. It burned. It made everything he wore burn. Invisible wisps of hellfire were licking through the fabric, and he could feel every last one.

He threw the coat off, but it was still too hot. One good thing, Günther supposed, about the trenches being largely deserted was that he could take the rest of his clothes off too. He took the other coat off, then his shirt, then his boots and socks, until he was sitting there naked. But it was still too hot.

Of course. He’d stolen the coat. From a dead man, no less. In a god-forsaken trench at that. No wonder he’d thought of hellfire and not any other equally suitable explanation. It was hellfire, and Hell was where he would be going if he didn’t atone for his sins, and immediately at that.

Now—what were the words of that prayer?

“Alles zum Wohle....”

No. No, that wasn’t right. That was—was the national syndicalist slogan. Not a prayer. Wieck was, would be, the source of Großsachsen’s salvation, maybe, but he didn’t do divine salvation. And that was what Günther needed now. Divine salvation.

He’d try again.

“O Gott, dessen einge... ein...bor... gebornen...”

That was wrong too. Why wouldn’t the words come? Günther knew he knew the words. He’d said that prayer every night since he could remember.

It didn’t matter. He could worry about it in the morning, when he wasn’t so tired. That, Günther decided, was probably why he couldn’t remember. Everything was too hot and he was tired and it would simply have to wait until morning. All he needed now was to find a good place to hide away from the eyes of God until dawn.

He lurched his body across the trench, towards the dugout. That was where he would hide. He would be safe there. In the dugout, under the table.

Once he was there, he knew it was true. This was safety. Something he hadn’t felt in even longer than warmth. The one safe place in this whole damn war, and it was his.

Günther let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes.

[bradie-valentine]

To Live in a House That is Haunted

By Bradie Valentine

The afternoon sun bakes me through the windshield as I drive towards Leah’s house. She hasn’t answered my texts in a couple of days. Not that unusual for her, even before this silence. And yet I’m still on my way to check on her. We’ve been basically inseparable since we bonded over our family troubles in grade three and this is the longest we haven’t seen each other since then. The quiet from her side of our friendship has gestated long enough.

When I pull up to her house, a wave of unease washes over me. The house looks almost the same as it usually does, but just slightly off. The grass is way too long and I can see a pile of mush near the mailbox, the storms of summer turning her mail into pulp. As I head towards the house, parting the long grass that tickles my legs, I notice the stack of oak she bought a few months ago. The wood is bloated and full of wet rot, another victim of the January showers.

Don’t get me wrong, Leah has always been quiet, reserved. But this is different. Besides the occasional ‘I’m still alive’ text, I’ve barely interacted with her in the past two months. I can’t exactly blame her though. I can understand why she hasn’t been feeling very social. Her husband, Brian, died two months ago; the death of Leah’s voice immediately following.

I was with her that day, the day cops turned up to deliver the news. We were in the lounge room, chatting about Leah’s upcoming carpentry projects when there was a knock at the door. Leah answered it, there was some muffled chatter and then a sorrowful screech, like an animal caught in a trap. I leapt up from the couch just in time to see Leah collapse in on herself. The strong statue of the woman I knew, reduced to a pile of discarded tissues; delicate and tear soaked.

It was a freak accident that killed her Brian. A bump on the head at work. Rushed to the hospital, and he was dead on arrival. We found out later that the knock had popped a massive aneurysm that was nesting between the folds of his brain.

I take a deep breath and rap on the door a couple times but Leah doesn’t answer. I pause for a few seconds, knock, pause again, and knock again. I pull out my phone and text her, a drop of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. The heat and worry working together to slick my skin. I try calling too, but the phone rings out. Usually I wouldn’t bother worrying over Leah, but since Brian, grief has metamorphosed her, leeching both her light and strength. I think I should go, maybe come back later, but then I notice the sound of music. Leonard Cohen’s deep voice emanates from within the house. I try the handle and it’s unlocked, as soon as I open the door I get hit with the foulest stench of my life, even worse than when I used to get paid to wash down animal cages at the local vet. The stench clogs my nostrils and makes my mouth water with pre-vomit saliva.

I call out to Leah and get no response in return. Covering my nose, I start down the hallway, passing picture frames filled with photos of the happy couple. I call out again and I still don’t get a reply. Oh god, I should have come sooner. As I approach the bedroom, I hear a buzzing. I can’t place it for a second, and then I realise, it’s flies, a swarm of flies.

It’s all making sense, her favourite album playing, their wedding anniversary is coming up. The stench of sickly sweet death crowding the hallway. Leah has killed herself and now a horde insects are busy getting comfortable in the rancid warmth of her lifeless corpse.

I brace myself, a few steps and I’ll be able to see the bedroom, the carnage Leah has made of herself. And then I hear a laugh, Leah's laugh. The fear mixes with confusion and I’m so disorientated, I stumble the last couple steps forward and then I see them.

Leah is lying on the bed, holding Brian’s hand. It takes me a second to realise that the swollen form on the bed is indeed Brian. The flies have made their home here a while ago. There is a split in Brian’s belly where the gasses of rot have burst him open. Maggots spill off Brian and wiggle across Leah, like they can’t even tell anymore where the death ends and the living begins.

I turn away and run for the kitchen. My stomach is roiling and lurching. I only make it halfway and end up vomiting on the floor. Bile and this morning's toast exploding from my mouth.

“Hi”

I look at Leah. She’s knobbly and bony where she used to be muscular. There’s a stain down the left side of her night gown. It’s yellowy thickness let’s me know it’s broken down fat that has leached out of Brian and onto her. As if he was trying to offer back some of the bulk that weeks in bed have taken from her.

I’m still gagging when she starts talking.

“I dug him up, after the funeral. I brought a shovel with me.”

“Why?” 

“I was getting ready for the funeral and all I could think about is how he would be so lonely in the ground. You know how much he hated being without me.”

“Leah, this is fucking crazy, you know that right? I love you but holy shit. You need help Leah… you need serious help.”

She just turns away and walks back to the bedroom. 

“Leah, stop! I’m serious.”

She doesn’t listen to me. I follow her down the hallway and watch her climb into bed next to the mass of degrading flesh in a burial suit. 

The liquid of his body has seeped into the mattress and the carpet beneath their bed. No one is ever going to be able to scrub him from the carpet or the floor below. An oily stain has spread up the wall above him, a halo made from his desecration. Brian now has a permanence he never had before. I wonder for a second what will happen to this house after they’re gone. Who would even want it now?

“Go away,” She says.

“Leah please”

She stays silent, just staring at Brian’s empty face.

“This is beyond fucked up, I’m getting you out of here. If… if you don’t come with me, I’ll call the police. They’ll be able to drag you out”

There is another long pause, and I almost think she has forgotten I’m here. She’s so clearly out of it.

“Please… please just let me say goodbye” She finally replies, “I need to say goodbye. I didn’t get to say it last time, please“

She leans in close to the bloat and starts whispering. I feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t. I head for the front door, for fresh air. As I’m walking through the house, I realise all of the pictures on the wall that used to be of parents and cousins and nieces have been replaced. 

They’re all of Leah with Brian’s body. All taken in the house. In one, Brian is propped up on the couch. Leah is sitting straight, like she’s posing for a portrait. The self timer on her phone capturing a record of her depravity. The photos all vary in poses and states of decomposition. The latest one I find is of them in bed. Brian already shiny and slick, his body bloated and gnarled. Leah has an arm around him and her head on his chest.

The front door is calling to me, fresh air and a reprieve from the incessant vibration of insect life. I reach for the handle when I notice the frame right by the door. The photo is of Leah, Brian and I at their wedding. It was Leah's favourite of the night, the three of us caught in laughter together. I sigh and head for the lounge room instead, climb the couch and slide open the window, pressing my face to the fly screen, breathing deeply the outside air.

The light tap, tap, tap of Leah’s steps announce her presence in the hallway.

“It’s okay now,” she says, “I got to say goodbye. We can put him back and no one has to know. You don’t have to call the police or anything.”

“Leah, you dug up his body, I can’t just pretend like that didn't happen.”

“Please! If anyone finds out, they’ll put me away. I don’t want to be alone. I lost Brian, I can’t lose everyone else as well.”

She’s just standing there in her yellowed nightgown, hands wringing each other. Leah looks so young, so helpless, like she’s in third grade again. Actually, she reminds me more of myself when I was in third grade. Unsure, broken, needing someone to look after me. Leah was the one who took care of me then, she was my person. Now I have to be that for her.

“Alright,” I say, getting up from the couch, “you get the gloves and aprons, I’ll get the rope.”

Standing in the bedroom, decked out in aprons, gloves, and face masks, we stare at the pile of flesh on top of the mattress. Assessing the best course of action, I really stare at Brian. Once a man, a great man at that, he is now somewhere between human and object. Tender and fragile, a bag of rot. Meat, past its use by date. A spoiled egg, one sharp prod and he’ll pop like a runny yolk. We have to be gentle.

Next to the bed, we lay the blue tarp I grabbed from the shed across the floor. Leah climbs up beside Brian, the movement jostles him, shaking the fluid filling his skin, wobbling like an oversized hot water bottle. Bracing myself over the tarp we grab his arms and pull him towards the ground, our fingers sink into his raw sausage meat arms. He slips from our hands a couple inches from the floor, with a wet slap he hits the ground. We rear back, and Leah spews a startled cry. The gash in Brian’s stomach yawns wider and a rush of melted organs spill from his open body; a thick grotesque puff of odour erupting with it. Following closely behind, a swarm of flies and maggots escape his bodily cavity, startled from their reverie.

Shocked still for a moment, we spring to life and scramble out of the room and slam the door shut. Leah slides to the floor, moaning and crying.

“What do we do now?” She asks me.

Dropping to the floor, I gather her gently into my lap. Trying not to think about bits of Brian swill getting all over me, I pat her matted hair.

“We take care of you now, the way you took care of Brian, the way you’ve taken care of me. Whatever that means.”

“Okay,” she says, “okay.”

Once Leah is soundly asleep, I dial triple zero. The operator seems a bit surprised by the situation I describe.

“My friend dug up her husband’s dead body and had been living with it for two months, can you send an ambulance over?”

“Uh, yeah. Right away.”

Once again, Leah and I are startled by a knock at her front door. I’m the one who answers it this time. Leah stands at the end of the hallway, she must look frightening to these strangers. Gaunt and covered in sludge, sticky with the putrid stench of the death that was stewing in that once pristine bedroom. They’re gentle with her, she goes with them willingly. We finally get outside, the freshness of the crisp air disorientating. Leah stops and turns to me.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this,” she says.

“Anytime,” I say.

We both laugh a little bit.

“Leah?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll be okay. Eventually, things will be better.”

“I know,” She says, “will you be okay, without me around?”

I think it’s a joke. Her, also trying to lighten the mood. I answer her seriously anyway.

“Yes, Leah. I think I will.”

[stxphxn-strange]

hi i need to tell you more things about my college au before I post my next fic, so i’m going to tell you about stephen and tony’s families:

tw for implied/referenced homophobia and implied/referenced child abuse

Bev Strange is to Stephen as Howard Stark is to Tony BUT where Howard consciously puts effort into treating Tony like shit, Bev doesn’t. She just effortlessly makes Stephen feel bad on a regular basis, but does just enough good to the point where Stephen invalidates his own right to complain about her.

“She just doesn’t think before she speaks, that’s all. She doesn’t want me to feel bad. We just had a nice lunch together, I really can’t complain when lunch was that pleasant.”

In a similar sense, Eugene Strange is to Stephen as Maria Stark is to Tony BUT Beverly and Eugene Strange never cheated on each other where Howard and Maria Stark did.

At least Howard cheated multiple times and had no reservations about telling everyone he knew. Maria only went behind his back once, and with what she considered good reason.

After witnessing a particularly horrible interaction between Howard and Tony, Maria knew then and THERE that she wanted to have another child but as far away from him as humanly possible. She’d always wanted more children, but Howard denied her and claimed he was more than occupied with trying to mold Tony into something acceptable.

That’s how she ended up flying to Italy for almost two (2) years, sharing her plan with her best friend, and eventually giving birth to Tony’s half sister, Natasha.

Not once did Howard ever notice that Maria and Tony’s trip to “visit family” went on for months longer than just a summer. Maria’s family was fully supportive of her plan anyway. Her mother/Tony’s grandmother (who I’ve decided is named Giulia bc i don’t know her canon name) frequently lectured Maria about not keeping her maiden name because she never liked Howard and thus didn’t see the appeal of giving up her name for him.

Howard Stark does not speak a single word of Italian and hence Does Not understand a single word when Maria’s family talks shit about him. Because they do, oftentimes in front of him. They hate him shamelessly, and Obadiah Stane isn’t much better in the eyes of the family. It’s one of few things they unanimously agree about.

I can’t make this clear enough: nobody in the family is ever chastised for speaking ill of Howard, including Tony though he’s too afraid to talk about Howard in front of anyone except for his grandmother.

Tony doesn’t know that Natasha is actually his sister and not his cousin until she tells him during a family gathering. Maria sat down with the two (2) of them and explained that they were siblings, but she didn’t explain why Natasha wasn’t Howard’s daughter until they were older. Despite having lots of resemblance to Maria, Howard always assumed she was just another niece he couldn’t bother to learn the name of. He was never particularly interested in getting to know any of his in-laws/his wife’s family.

When he wasn’t visiting his mother/Maria’s side of the family, Tony spent lots of time with either the Stranges or Rhodey’s family. Even before they started dating, Stephen usually tried to go wherever Tony was (and vice versa), especially after Donna died.

Things went to absolute shit in the Strange family after Donna drowned, and after an argument between Beverly and Stephen. The ever present distance between mother and son grew rapidly after that year.

Rhodey would always invite them both over or travel with them, claiming that “Someone who’s moderately responsible needs to keep an eye on you reckless white dudes.”

There was one (1) year where Stephen spent almost the summer with Tony. It was the summer after they kissed for the first time, before their last year of high school, after Tony broke up with Steve. That was the year Stephen impulsively came out to Beverly (hence causing their big argument), the year he realized that it was in his best interest to be as far away from her as possible. She’d already told him not to talk to her, and Stephen seized the opportunity to flee to his best friend (somewhere during that summer they started dating officially but they kissed several more times before that point).

“I’ll allow her the chance to dote over Victor the way she loves to. She doesn’t need me around to be happy, that much is clear. God forbid my sexuality hangs over her head like a stormcloud!”

Stephen’s visits to Nebraska were few and far between after that year. Victor and Eugene would regularly visit him in New York after he started college, and it was really all he needed. Stephen falling out with his dad or brother never stopped them from visiting him, which spoke volumes about the way Beverly treated him.

Victor knew, but didn’t always get, why Stephen was hurting so much and was hoping that seeing their mother for probably the last time would make things better for either or both of them. He had no bad intentions, he just wanted to try and help.

Was he write about that? I’m leaning towards no, and I’m writing an added bit of death doesn’t discriminate to detail more about what happened that I’ll probably post a few days after this

Tags: @stark-strange-love @grumb-lin @ah3m @daisypoisonpen @kiwidino @ironstrange-chaos @ironstrange-is-the-endgame @maya-custodios-dionach

[prongsies]

Star-Crossed ⁕ Chapter Seven

←Chapter 6 |  Master list

Thalia wasn’t able to get any sleep that night, staring at the ceiling of her four-poster bed as she recalled where she went wrong, in which part of that day did Fred start treating her differently. Did she really force herself into the Weasley family? Last she recalled, Bill, Charlie, and Percy seemed pretty fond of her – and so were Ginny and Ron.  

Molly had expressed her love for her countless of times – was all of it fake?  

She was distracted by a knock on their dorm room. Wiping her tears away, she glanced towards her clock that read 5AM, as she slowly peeled herself off her bed. Illuminating her wand as she opened the door, she was surprised to see Ginny standing on the other side, offering her a tired – yet sleepy – smile.

“George told me what happened” Ginny whispered, walking in, following Thalia onto her bed, “I thought I’d offer you some of my company”

“Thank you, Gin” Thalia replied, lying down beside Ginny, who had already slipped under the covers, making herself comfortable.  

They were face-to-face now, Ginny smiling at Thalia, “We love you, you know?” She whispered. “Fred, George, all of us – me, especially. You practically grew up with us. You're- you're not just a friend. Merlin, you risked your life protecting us back in the World Cup”

“That’s... that’s something people do, Gin – it's a given”

“I can name a handful of people who wouldn’t jump in front of Death Eaters to protect others at the top of my head – a hundred of them, even! If you’d give me some time to make a list”

“You don’t-” Thalia giggled, “You don’t have to, Ginny. Besides, Fred was probably just stressed out. He's always wanted to prove himself as something more, you know? And I guess he saw the Triwizard Tournament as the proper opportunity to do so”

Ginny stared at her for a moment, eyes wide, studying her, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Defend him... even if he’s hurt you”

“I guess” Thalia didn’t know how to properly word her reply, “I guess he means a lot more to me than an argument – that our conflict is far less important than our friendship”

Ginny hummed, failing to stifle a yawn as she buried herself deeper under the covers, “You’re way too good for him, Lia... and I can’t wait to be there when he realizes that”

She woke up hours later, feeling a bit lighter in her chest as she pulled herself out of bed. Noticing Ginny had left, probably to get breakfast, she pulled on her comfiest clothes – mainly a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater – dragging her feet down the dormitories and out the Gryffindor Tower. The walk to the Great Hall had been peaceful, since majority of the students have already gotten up before her, leaving the hallways almost empty, aside from a few students who have finished breakfast early.

It was easy to spot Ginny among the crowd of students, since the moment she entered, the younger girl was already waving her over. With a smile, she approached her, greeting George and Lee with a good morning.

“Lia,” George started, turning his attention towards Thalia as she poured some cereal into her bowl. “I’m really sorry about last night”

She looked up towards him briefly, giving a smile, “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, you weren’t the one saying any of those things. You were even trying to stop him but he wouldn’t listen”

“And he was a prick for not doing so” Lee added from across her, shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him - do you, George?”

“I’m afraid I have no clue” He shook his head, “He wasn’t like that last summer”

“S’far as I can remember, he couldn’t get his hands off you” Ginny pointed out, smirking up at Thalia whose couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Fred clinging onto her on the sofa, refusing to let go even when Thalia made a move to stand so she can greet Charlie.

A few moments of silence passed between them as they ate their breakfast, Ginny and George sending looks towards one another behind Thalia, before Ron’s voice cut into their group.

“Lia, Krum’s looking at you” He croaked out, earning a laugh from Thalia and Harry - who laughed into his drink.  

Thalia looked up and peered towards the Slytherin table, to see that Krum was indeed looking at her. What caught her attention more, though, was the same Durmstrang boy from last night, who immediately broke his gaze towards her shyly when he had realized that she was looking.  

Out of curiosity, she watched his interaction with her cousin, Draco, who seemed to be arguing with him. It caught her by surprise though, when Viktor had stood up, forcing his friend up as well, dragging him towards their direction with Draco leading the way.

“Merlin’s beard he’s coming this way!” Ron shrieked, hiding his face in excitement as Viktor Krum neared. 

She didn’t think much of it as the trio got closer, her attention drifting further away when Harry and Draco began their usual row. However, when Draco called her attention, she was quick to look up, eyes landing on the Durmstrang boy for far longer than she intended to, before darting towards the smirking Draco Malfoy, who had caught her stare.

“Good morning, dear cousin! I’d like to introduce you to someone...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Fred stirred awake from his short slumber, stretching his aching back as he looked towards the clock in their dormitory. He cheered internally, realizing there was more than enough time for him to catch breakfast, even if he was nearly an hour late. He glanced towards his brother’s bed as he left his bed, muttering profanities while he slipped on his sweater, blaming his brother for his need to rush since he wasn’t woken up.

He caught sight of the cauldron on the floor in between their beds, confused as to why it was there, with a moss-like green liquid inside it, until the events of last night started to sink in slowly. He couldn’t escape as the foul words he had said to Thalia started pouring into his memory, his harsh and sharp voice snapping towards her.

“Shite,” He whispered to himself, rushing to put on his shoes as he walked, nearly stumbling in the process. He rushed out the dormitories and out the Gryffindor common room, running towards the Great Hall where he was sure he would find Thalia.

He smiled when he saw her in their usual spot laughing at Ron with Harry. Their attentions directed somewhere Fred was unsure of. He was about to follow their gazes when a shoulder bumped into his roughly, putting him out of balance.

It was nearly impossible for him to hold back his gawk, realizing that it was actually Viktor Krum. The Bulgarian Seeker turned back to look at Fred, mumbling a “sorry” as he continued to drag his friend towards...Thalia's direction? by the collar.

Fred couldn’t spare a laugh even when his younger brother had shrieked into his hand, disbelief in his face to see Krum was approaching them. By that time, he become much more curious and wary, especially upon seeing Draco Malfoy lead the group.  

He heard Harry snap, “Sod off, Malfoy” as he neared his siblings, standing just a few ways away from George and Lee.  

“As if I’m here for you, Potter” Draco sneered, snapping his head towards Thalia who wasn’t paying them much attention.  

“Good morning, dear cousin! I’d like to introduce you to someone...” The blonde moved aside to showcase the Durmstrang, patting the bloke’s shoulder. “This is Leo Kurroff. He said he found you bloody gorgeous -”

"I’m sure the lad could speak for himself” Thalia interrupted.  

Fred could practically see the way her eyebrow raised just from the tone of her voice which breaching the fine line between sarcasm and dead-seriousness. He knew where this was going. He knew Thalia, who had claimed far too many times that relationships weren’t her thing and that she’d wait until graduation to find someone.

He smirked, waiting for Thalia to reject the poor man, who had now turned red in embarrassment. He leaned on George’s shoulder, his twin glancing briefly at him before returning his attention to the scene. Merlin, they’ve seen how she’s rejected people before! that poor seventh year Ravenclaw a year ago, and those two Gryffindors in their year – watching this is going to be fun.  

“Well, out wi’it, boy!” Lee teased from his seat near the Durmstrang, Leo,, elbowing him in the arm.

Leo cleared his throat, looking paler than he did seconds ago, before rushing out, “Willyougoonadatewithme?”

“Excuse me?” Thalia laughed softly, she was smiling at him in amusement now.  

Fred looked down to see Ginny and Hermione giggling behind their hands as they watched Leo rub his face in frustration, before shifting to Ron who was nearly hyperventilating at his close proximity with his favorite Seeker. 

Leo took deep breaths in, before stepping forward, looking far more confident than he had been moments ago. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked clearly this time.

By now, they have gathered the attention of nearly half the Great Hall, including the professors’ in the staff, who were watching the scene unfold in front of them. It felt like no one was breathing in the silence of the hall, all eyes towards them as they waited for Thalia’s response.

Fred couldn’t help but think about how much of a shame it was Leo decided to ask her out publicly, which would equate to an ever more public rejection. His thoughts left his mind when he saw Thalia open her mouth, grinning as he waited for the big fat ‘NO’ to leave her mouth. Here it comes, and-

“I don’t see why not?”

A wave of emotions washed over Fred, sending chills down to his toes as his grin faltered. He could barely hear Leo ask a ‘really?’ in disbelief as he felt his eyes dart anywhere but there – anywhere but the scene in front of him. 

Maybe it was the guilt of last night’s events that caused his reaction? Or the lack of sleep? Or the fact that Thalia has been making more guy friends this year while Fred and her were drifting apart?

In the corner of his eye, he could see Ginny looking at him in both disappointment and worry. But his mind was fuzzy to the point where he had to steady himself on George’s shoulders for a moment.

“You alright, Freddie?” Fred hadn’t even noticed that Viktor Krum and the others had left – hell, he didn’t even realize he had his eyes shut tightly as he tried to regain his steady breathing.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he met Thalia’s eyes, who stared back at him with pure concern in her face. He could read her like an open book. Her eyes were pained as she looked at him, even if she tried to hide it. He couldn’t stand seeing it – he couldn’t stand looking at her. So he did what is probably the second worst thing he had done to her in the span of a few hours. He ran.

Master list | Chapter 8→

A/N: Jordan Fisher as Leo??? Yes please!!

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