#yes I am making you all wait for the resolution of the birthday party

[a-vintage-snake]

Fear and Delight

Pairing(s): Pre-romantic Dukeceit 

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Child abuse, dirty humor, basically Remus is Very Thirsty™ for that Snake Booty Characters: Janus “Deceit” Sanders, Remus Sanders,

Summary: What exactly happened in the year that Remus disappeared?

Word Count: 9072

Author’s Note: SO. That new episode, AM I RIGHT?? I absolutely loved it, instant fave! That being said, I have considered going back and change Deceit to Janus, but instead I decided to work his name reveal into the story as a plot point. So don't worry, we will be getting snake boi's name into the story eventually, it will just take a while. A loooong while.

People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend​, @hekking-happy-nonsense, @lockmcduckwoodchuck

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

One year ago…

When Remus and his brother had been little, their nanny had often read to them before bed. Stories about daring adventures, defeating monsters and love at first sight. Roman had always sighed dreamily at the last part, romantic little shit that he was. Remus on the other hand would just roll his eyes, yell ‘BORING!!’ and demand that their nanny go back to the part about monster slaying.

Now Remus wanted to kick himself for not paying more attention, cause seriously? How the fuck did those characters deal with love at first sight???

Not as if any tips would have helped in those first moments, when he had openly stared at quite possible the single most drop dead gorgeous man he had ever seen. He was distantly aware that the absolute dreamy apparition from the heavens was talking to him in that silky rich voice that made Remus’ knees weak (luckily he was sitting down). Not a single word registered. Remus was just a tad distracted, thank you very much. Honestly, did this guy know how pretty his face was?? This had to be illegal somewhere.

Deceit stopped talking and frowned. Not an unusual thing to happen, people frowned at him all the time. What was unusual was that Deceit leaned forward a bit and gently gripped Remus’ chin with one hand. Remus’ thoughts, usually an unstoppable whirlwind of continuous screaming abruptly came to a screeching halt. Deceit inspected his eyes, slightly tilting Remus’ head from left to right as he did. Remus followed his guiding hand breathlessly, gawking at how Deceit’s scales glittered in the light of the setting sun. He wanted to draw them... Or maybe lick them. Both? Both is good.

“…I definitely used a too potent of a sleeping spell on you,” Deceit sighed as he released his chin. Remus wanted to whine at the loss of contact. “Luckily, that’s just a matter of sleeping it off.” Deceit continued as he rose from the cot and looked down at Remus. “Can you walk?” He asked.

Remus shot up from the cot so fast that he probably sprained something. Fucking hell, if this guy had asked if he could fly he would have immediately jumped out of the window without a doubt. Deceit raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead he walked towards the door, throwing a ‘follow me’ motion over his shoulder. Remus nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled to catch up.

Deceit led him out of the door into darkened halls. He snapped his fingers and a small flame appeared in his hand, lighting their path.

The walk was a quiet one. Their footsteps rung in the empty darkness as Remus trailed after the other, wide-eyed and dazed. Remus realized at one point that he had to be in the hidden castle. The one from all the stories, the hideout of one of the most dreaded figures in their country’s history. He had found it… Or rather, he was brought to it. The place everyone feared so much that they avoided the mountains all together.

But who fucking cared about that nonsense?? Certainly not Remus! All he could focus on was the back of the warlock’s head and those beautiful fluffy curls. His fingers were itching and twitching to run through those curls, to see if they really were as soft as they looked like. In fact, his hand already stretched out-

“Here we are,” Deceit interrupted Remus’ musings and he quickly snapped his hand back. They had reached a door in the time where Remus was slowly loosing his mind. Deceit opened and held the door open for him. “These will be your chambers for the duration of your stay.” He said.

Remus stared dumbly at him. “My chambers…?” He repeated a little dumbfounded.

“Yes.” Deceit nodded. Remus looked between the warlock and the open door uncertainly.

“…You’re not going to… Throw me into a dungeon…?” Remus asked dubiously. Deceit tilted his head.

“Why? Would you prefer that?”

…Was he messing with him? Remus honestly couldn’t tell. The warlock’s expression was impossible to read; it was quite an impressive poker face he got there. Realizing he had no hope of forming a somewhat intelligent answer to that, Remus looked away from those mismatched (absolutely alluring, could stare in them for hours) eyes and walked into the room.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect… No, that was lie. Remus knew exactly what he had expected. A torture chamber perhaps, maybe with some various jars with preserved limbs. Or a completely barren cell with one tiny barred window, where he had no choice but to eat his own leg to survive. Not this. Not a perfectly welcoming warm bedchamber, that looked like it was carved into the mountainside rather than built with bricks. A fireplace crackled softly on one side of the room and a comfortable looking poster-bed stood on the other. Large windows showed the peaks of the mountains outside, now black outlines against a quick darkening sky. The view had to be beautiful in daytime. On a small desk near the windows stood a tray with a glass, an elegant carafe filled with crystal clear water and a plate of several assortments of fresh fruit and bread.

Completely baffled Remus stared at the room. He may not have much experience with these types of things, but this is not exactly what he thought a hostage situation would be like.

…Unless he was in one of those steamy romance novels Roman hid underneath his bed and pretended he didn’t read. Oh man, he really, really hoped that was the case.

“You’ll find a bathroom with everything you need through the door on your right,” Deceit said behind him. “Get some more sleep. We’ll talk again in the morning.”

Remus, who had been wholeheartedly distracted, whipped around when he heard the door close. His throat closed up. Ice gripped his veins as he rushed to the door, ready to pound on it, scream-

No no no don’t lock the door don’t lock him up please-!!

One twist on the doorknob and the door flew open, letting Remus tumble out the room in a flurry of unbalanced limbs. He barely avoided tipping over and acquainting his face with the stone floor. He hadn’t… Locked the door?

Perplexed Remus righted himself, staring down the dark empty hallway that greeted him. The warlock was nowhere in sight. What the shit? How did he do that so fast? Was it another one of those disappearing reappearing acts? Or had he turned invisible? Was he staring at Remus right now? Judging him?

Suddenly shockingly aware that he hadn’t shaved (or bathed for that matter) since he left home, Remus quickly retreated back into the chambers that were his now? Apparently?? And threw the door closed with a bang. He leaned against the wood like hell itself was high on his heels. Judging by the way his heart hammered a mile a minute, he would say it was.

Stumbling unsteadily towards the desk near the windows, Remus grabbed the carafe with water and downed half of it in one go. No time to bother with the glass! He was thirsty in more ways than one, and at least this thirst was easily quenchable.  

After he had devoured most of the fruit and bread and threw some of the left over water over his head for good measure, Remus felt a bit better. For a few seconds he could even say he was calm… But then he glanced around the room again and remembered his bizarre situation. Flashes of scales and fangs and a voice like velvet rang through his head, and Remus had to muffle a scream into his hands.

Get some more sleep, Deceit had said. But Remus wasn’t tired in the slightest. He just had the longest nap in the history of ever! He felt like he could stay awake until the sun exploded and burnt the world to a crisp little pebble. That’s why he found himself still agitatedly pacing the floor hours later, when the sky outside had turned to a deep pitch black. Remus was pretty sure that he was pacing a hole into the soft rug underneath his feet, but he couldn’t sit still even if he tried.

“Okay. Okay okay okay okay,” Remus muttered. “I’m stuck, in a hidden castle, with quite possibly the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life, no one knows where I am, what the HELL am I going to do???”

It was twelfth time that night that he had started this very conversation with himself, and his brain still hadn’t progressed any further than ‘roll over and play dead’, which was not helping!

“Come oooooooon!!” Remus groaned as he dragged his hands down his face. “I have to do something!”

Nope! No you don’t! You don’t have to do jack shit!

“But have you looked at him??? I would hate myself forever if I don’t at least try to tap that!”

You don’t even know why he keeps you here! For all you know he just wants to use you!

“Fuck, I hope so-!”

Not the fun kind of use, you idiot!

“Oh…” Remus slumped in disappointment.

Look, I know it’s hard-

Remus snorted. “Heheh. Hard.”

FOCUS. You heard the stories! He wants to take over the kingdom! And you’re part of the royal family! He probably just sees you as his stepping stool to the throne!

“Honestly, he could step on me anytime-”

NOT THE POINT. The point is that you’re his enemy… He might be nice to you now, but who’s to say that that will last?

That gave Remus pause. That was unfortunately a good point to consider…

“I guess,” He pondered. “That I’ll have to give him a good reason not to kill me?”

Oh yeah, and how are you gonna do that, genius?

Stopping his pacing on the rug, Remus bit his thumbnail as his mind raced. Good question. How could he get in Deceit’s good graces, so the warlock wouldn’t get rid of him the second he was no use anymore?

…Remus only had to think about that for a few seconds. The answer was pretty obvious.

“Okay, so he might want to use me to for “taking over the kingdom” purposes!” He mused out loud. “But if I, hypothetically,” Remus paused for a second, forcing the next words to fall from his mouth with a tremor. “…Were to willingly help him with that…”

…That would be treason.

“It would be.” Remus agreed. Treason of the highest order. But…

He glanced toward the window. The night made it look like a black hole, or the gaping jaw of a monster ready to devour him. He didn’t know if he could have seen his home from this window in daytime, but it was still out there. Waiting for him to return. So why did that thought make his stomach twist and hurt instead of comfort him?

…What did he owe those fuckers in the castle anyway?

Not much, if he was going to be honest. He had clung on to the fantasy that if he only could have his heroic moment, the world and his family would finally see the errors of their ways and everything would be perfect at last. After that forced little game of truth and dare last night however? That childish lie, which he had held onto with all the desperation of a drowning man, had shattered. Nothing was waiting for him back down the mountain. Fuck, he certainly wouldn’t do it for the happy memories…

“Failure.”

“Disappointment.”

“Why did I even get a brother?”

Remus closed his eyes. Inhaled.

“…I will help the warlock take over the kingdom,” He breathed out. “Fuck them.”

He clenched his hands into fists to suppress the full body shiver that overtook him. There was a small, terrified little part of him screaming not to do this. Mom and dad would be furious. Even more than they had ever been. If they found out that he was involved in this…

“LET ME OUT!! PLEASE I’M SORRY I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN I WON’T SPEAK I WON’T THINK I’M SORRY I’M SORRY JUST LET ME OUT PLEASE!!!”

Remus shook his head to rid himself of the memory of trapped stuck why was no one coming please anyone home.

“I’ll just make sure they never know it was me that helped him!” He merrily said, ignoring how his voice wavered. He pushed away the nausea that threatened to overtake him, and focused on his idea. It would be perfect! His family would be turned into feral ferrets or chopped up for potion ingredients or whatever the hell the warlock wanted to do with them, and he… If he played his cards right and got really lucky Deceit might keep him around. He might even be his friend!

Are you sure about that?

Remus winced. Oh great, the voice of reason was here. Remus hated the voice of reason. It always managed to sound just like his parents, his brother and every teacher he ever had at the same time.

I mean, come now. You think he would actually like you?

“He can!” Remus said, but even to himself he didn’t sound very convincing. “I mean, he said there was nothing wrong with me! That I am complete, just the way I am-!”

Oh he certainly told you that… But be honest with yourself. Do you think he would have said those same things if he actually knew you? REALLY knew you?

Remus opened his mouth to protest. His mind scoured for counter arguments. None came. For once his head went deafeningly silent on its own accord.

After a few seconds Remus’ shoulders slumped. He sighed through his nose.

“…no.” Remus said softly.

Exactly. The voice of reason said smugly. No. So why even bother trying? It’s not as if anyone has ever picked you. I mean… Why would they?

He couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. Of course they wouldn’t pick him when Picture Perfect Fairy-tale Prince Charming was there too. He loathed thinking it, but Roman probably wouldn’t have a problem winning the warlock over. No no, he would recite some boring ass poetry, or give him a rose, or some dreadfully boring compliment and wam-bam, thank you ma’am Roman had a magical boyfriend before anyone could blink.

He scowled and kicked at the carpet. It wasn’t fair! Roman always got the best things! Why couldn’t he, for once, just get what he wanted instead of his brother stealing it from him-!

He stopped. A penny dropped in Remus’ head. A thrilling, captivating penny.

“…I can totally win Deceit over.” Remus whispered.

Uh, haven’t you been listening? We’ve never beaten Roman-!

“But that’s just the thing! Roman…” Remus said in slow, cautiously excited realization. “Isn’t here.”

…So?

“So he’s not here to upstage or cock-block me!” Remus’ eyes sparkled. A plan started to take form in his head, in a technicolor whirlwind of party streamers and canon explosions. Roman wasn’t here… It was just he and his sexy rattlesnake. A thousand possibilities suddenly opened up for him.

“I could-! I could woo him!” Remus excitedly said. “Sweep him off his feet! Blow his mind! And hopefully blow something else!”

If he did this right he might actually have a chance! Plus, as far as he knew, Sexy Scales and him really were the only people in this whole castle! No competition! And if he hadn’t had company for a while now, he must- Ooooh damn…

“He must crave the D so bad…” Remus whispered reverently.

That’s all well and good, but what makes you think he would go for YOU of all people?

“That’s where the second part of my plan comes in!” Remus said excitedly. “I am going to channel…” He threw his hands up in a dramatic flourishing pose. “My inner Roman!”

WHAT?? Eeeew, no! Gross! Why???

“No no really, think about it! People don’t like me, true, but everyone loves Roman! He’s got people kissing his ass all the time for some reason!”

Yes, he had never seen Roman without someone (or several someone’s!) grovelling at his feet, begging to ‘pretty please, fart in my direction today oh great and powerful crown prince!!’ or something along that line. Remus had always thought it was disgusting, but right now he needed that energy more than anything.

“This will be perfect! But for this to work I have to imitate mister Floundering Vanilla flawlessly! If I do everything right my beautiful Beau Constrictor will be super-duper impressed and fall hopelessly in love with me in no time! Goodnight, the end, happily ever after!”

…Holy shit that’s BRILLIANT. Good thinking Remus!

“Thank you Remus!” Remus said brightly.

Hmmm, yes, GREAT plan. Except you you’re not really Roman, are you? Even if it works, you’ll inevitably screw up. And once your lover realizes he didn’t get what he signed up for…

Remus however cheerfully ignored the voice of reason as excitement for his plan took over. He threw off his filthy clothes and boots as he dashed to the door that the warlock had pointed out. Behind it he found a bathroom made from black stone, thin lines of gold curling like veins in the dark stone. A grand deep-set bath was carved out in the floor, ceiling high windows giving a perfect view of the dark mountains. Remus’ first instinct was to press his ass against the glass and moon the entire kingdom, but he squashed it down. That’s not something Roman would do, and he was going to be Roman from now on, wasn’t he? Instead he opened the golden taps, and jumped in without waiting for the water to fill the bath up.

With more vigour than he ever had Remus scrubbed away the filth he had build up while traveling. Several golden bottles lined at the tub turned out to be ointments and bath oils, and he lathered all of them into his skin and hair. When he deemed himself clean he sprung from the bath, smelling like a lavender field had thrown up on him. An inspection into a cabinet carved into the wall turned up black towels, a set of clean clothes, toiletries and, surprisingly but thankfully, a razor. He stared at the blade in his hand for a second. Apparently the warlock was not worried at all about giving his hostage a potential weapon.

Deciding not to think to hard about the implications of that, Remus shaved away his three-day scruff meticulously. His moustache received a good trim and he curled the ends up extra fancily. When he finished he gave his naked reflection an appreciative once-over.

“Aw yeah,” He nodded with a satisfied grin. “Ready to seduce a snake!”

The clothes he found were simple, but clean and comfortable. As he slipped into a black pair of breeches and a black blouse with tiny silver buttons he briefly wondered where the warlock got the clothes. Remus sure as hell hadn’t packed up any extras.

…Wait. Were they his? Remus considered that possibility with wide eyes. The pants were a bit snug around his waist…

Running out of the bathroom Remus threw himself onto the bed and screamed into the very soft pillows for a few minutes, lest he be tempted to give the clothes a good sniff. Because that would be weird and not something Roman would do!

When he finally pulled himself together, Remus used a towel to clean his boots as well as he could before putting them back on. He pulled a hand through his damp hair, gave his armpits a testing sniff and smoothed down any wrinkles in his blouse. He took a two-armed candelabra to light his way and threw open the door.

Eagerly Remus walked into the dark halls that awaited him. Ready to grab his destiny by its gorgeous scaled face.    

--

There lived a witch in the woods.

That however was no concern right now for the angry crowd making their way through the forest, torches lightning their path. They had dogs on leashes with them, barking madly.

“The monster is close,” said the leader of the mob. “The dogs can smell it. Spread out! Find it!” With several voices yelling in agreement, the people spread out.

The monster in question was hiding underneath a bush. He held a hand against his mouth, desperately trying to stifle the sobs that kept pouring from him. His back burned, his shirt sickeningly slick with blood. He tried to wipe his tears away, the scales on his hands rubbing painfully against his puffy eyes. He winced when he heard the dogs barking in the distance.

They couldn’t find him. They would drag him back to the town, where they would be. They would hurt him again.

“Sit still, you filthy little beast!”

“N-No! PLEASE STOP IT HURTS PLEASE!!”

“Be a bit more grateful! We’ll get these unsightly things off of you!”

Years down the line he still wouldn’t know how exactly he got away. All he knew that one minute he was being held down, a knife slicing under the scales on his skin. The next minute he was running outside, into the woods that surrounded his family home.

Something on his back moved, and he flinched. Perhaps it had been… those things that had helped him escape. He hated them. Hated, hated, hated the extra arms that occasionally just appeared, as if to taunt him that he wasn’t human, that he was every bit the freak that everyone told him he was.

“Go away,” He whispered desperately at the extra appendages. “Go away go away go away go away!!”

A shudder ran down his back, and he knew they had vanished once more. His wave of relief was shot down when he heard the yelling, closer than he wished they were. He had to move. Shakily he crawled out of the false safety of his hiding place, hobbled to his feet and ran.

He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, his steps and sobbing deafening in the silent forest. As much as the dark frightened him, the small hints of light that he could see through the trees were even more terrifying. The voices behind him became louder and louder, the barking nearing. He could almost feel the dog’s jaws closing around his ankle. He tried to speed up, but every step jostled pain down his ruined back. Spots danced in his vision, tears leaking faster because of the burning ache.

His foot caught behind a root, and he landed on the forest floor with a painful yelp. He tried to get up as quickly as he could, but-

“THERE IT IS! WE FOUND IT!”

Fear spurring him on, the monster jumped up and ran. Now he heard running behind him, the mob closing in on him. He no longer tried to quiet down his cries.

He dashed into an open spot. It made him feel to open and exposed, and he tried to run towards the relative safe covering of the trees once more. But before he could reach them, another group of people burst from the treelines in front of him. He skidded, turning, wanting to run back, but there was the other group.

“Here it is! Grab it!” “No!” The monster sobbed. “No, please no!”

The mob didn’t listen, only closed him in with bloodlust in their eyes. The monster turned and turned, hoping to find a way to escape. Spotting none, he dropped to his knees and curled into a small ball, his arms covering his head. He heard the people approaching, victory in their yelling, and he only hoped that the end would come quickly-

“STOP.”

A bright light burst to life in the open spot, shocking the mob to a standstill. The monster could see the light seeping through his closed eyelids.

“What is happening here?” The booming voice of a woman asked.

“This is no concern of you, witch,” The mob leader said gruffly. “We’re here to kill the monster that has terrorized our town for too long.”

The monster swallowed as his throat closed up painfully. A witch. Now he was truly done for.

“A monster?” The woman said in baffled disbelief. “That is a child! You would murder a child in cold blood?”

“That is no child!” Someone sneered. “It’s a demon straight from the underworld!”

Agreeing voices sounded across the open spot. The monster trembled and curled into a smaller ball when he heard the people moving again, closing in on him.

“Don’t come near him!” The woman bellowed. “Anyone who dares to touch him will answer to me!”

Most footsteps came to a hesitant halt. One of them however didn’t stop.

“You don’t scare me, witch!” A man said. “I have slain plenty monsters before, and this one won’t be any different! That skin will look nicely on a new belt!”

The monster sobbed a little louder when he peeked under his arm and saw the boots of the man right in front of him.

“Oh really?” Said the woman. Her voice had turned dangerously soft. “Well, in that case, know you have brought this upon yourself…”

Another burst of bright white light illuminated the open spot. The monster only caught a small glimpse of it from under his arms.

“You have not heeded my warnings. Therefor you will suffer my curse. If any of you ever lays a hand on a child with the intention to harm again,” The woman’s voice turned powerful, commanding. “You will be transformed into PIGS!”

Muttering was heard, fear finally replacing the anger that had held the mob in its tight grasp. The man above the monster however only scoffed.

“Nice bluff, lady,” He said. “But no witch or sorcerer alive has ever brought down such a curse!” With that he bended down and harshly yanked the monster up by his bloodied shirt. The rough handling send a sharp shot of pain down his tortured back, and he howled in agony.

Immediately the hand released him. The monster fell back down with a thud while the man above him stumbled to the ground. The monster looked up at his would-be captor. The man shuffled backwards, staring pale as the moon at his pulsing hands. His mouth opened in a horrified silent yell as his fingers shrunk into his hands and hoofs started forming. His nose scrunched up, turning into a perfect little snout. Tusks pushed up from his bottom lip.

“NO STOP IT PLEA-!!” The man’s screaming transformed into horrified squealing as his vocal chords shifted and changed.

Screaming erupted over the open spot as the people dropped their weapons and ran, tripping over themselves to get away as fast as they could. The man turning pig tried to stand up to run along with them, but he stumbled as his legs shortened and his clothes clung onto a gradually shrinking body. No one came to his aid. He dragged himself after them, pleading squeals leaving him. Wide eyed the monster stared as the mob disappeared among the trees, their wails dying away slowly in the night.

His momentary reprieve didn’t last long. Careful footsteps approached him and the monster realized the witch was still there. Quickly he curled himself back into a ball. Panicked logic told him that as long as he didn’t move she might not spot him. Surely if this woman saw his face she would understand why the mob had chased him down. She would be scared… Or maybe she wanted to carve away his scales as ingredients for potions. She was a witch, that’s what witches did, right?

A curious touch on his arm startled the monster, making him tighten the arms around his head. The monster heard curious snuffles and soft clicks as something small rustled through the leafs around him. A little snout sniffed at his hand, insistently trying to nudge his arms away from his face.

Overtaken by his own curiosity, the monster warily peeked over his arm. Two ruby red angular eyes with split pupils met his. Pearlescent white scales trailed down a small reptilian body, leathery wings stretching out as the creature tilted its head inquisitively. He couldn’t help it; the monster lifted his head up a bit more to stare.

Was that… a dragon?

The white dragon didn’t move away as the monster gaped. It only let out a soft thrilling sound as it inspected him with an intelligent gaze. The sound made the monster smile hesitantly. He had never seen a dragon before…

A gentle hand caressed his curls, and ice-cold fear snapped him back to the here and now.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME!!” The monster yelled as dove back into a curled up ball. The hand snapped back. He bit his lip to choke back a strangled sob. Oh no oh no he had raised his voice, he yelled at an adult, this was bad, this was BAD-!!

“Why wouldn’t I look at you?” The woman asked softly. Her voice was a far cry from the intimidating boom from barely a minute ago. The monster however wasn’t fooled.

“I’m c-cursed…” He hiccupped. “P-Please don’t look, I’m c-c-cursed…”

A beat of silence. The monster knows that by now she must have spotted the scales on his hands, the sharp talons where blunt nails should be. Any second now she was going to scowl in disgust and call the mob back, who would finish the job. Fresh tears started straining down his cheeks as he awaited the inevitable.

“Oh no…” The woman whispered. “Oh no no no no no…”

Strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him gingerly from the ground. The monster wanted to beg and plead for mercy, but every word died in his throat when he was pulled against the woman’s broad chest in a careful embrace.

“I’m sorry…” The woman murmured brokenly as she stroked his hair soothingly. “I’m so, so sorry… Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

The monster lay paralyzed in the hug as the woman kept whispering apologies above him. “Please don’t hurt me…” He whimpered in a weak little voice. The woman’s breath hitched and she tightened her arms around him.

“Never, you hear me?” She said shakily. “Never.”

A gasp tore from his throat as Deceit shot upright. It took him a few frantic seconds to stop seeing the forest in the shadows of his room, to realize it was cold sweat dripping down his back and not blood.

With a groan Deceit fell back on his bed, rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes. Great, that particular dream hadn’t passed the revue in a while. Oh, he just loved how it didn’t seem to matter how many decades had passed since that damned night; the dreams kept coming back. Like a fever he couldn’t quite shake. Weren’t his demons tired by now, beating him up with the same stick every single time?

Dragging his hands down his face, Deceit glared up at the ceiling like it was personally responsible for his ruined night. Damn, he was tired… He hadn’t slept this bad in ages. What had made him this restless-

Oh right. He had a guest.

Deceit groaned again, a longer, outdrawn sound of exhausted misery. Fate truly was a cruel mistress, wasn’t it? Just when he had seriously considered- horror above horrors- giving up (good grief, the words alone made him want to puke), they had thrown the winning key to his plan right into his lap. A member of the royal family… Not just that, one of the princes. This opened pathways he hadn’t even dared to think about before!

Speaking of things that just kept coming back, hope settled into the small dark dungeon that was his heart like the flickering light of a single candle. As if fate was a particular sadistic jailor who adored mocking him, taunting Deceit that he possibly couldn’t break out of his prison cell with just this one blasted candle.

Well. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he had ever done to escape. And Deceit would be damned if he didn’t prove the jailor wrong.

Restless anticipation made him glide out of bed. He dressed himself in the dim light of the brightening sky outside. As he shrugged on his cloak he idly wandered towards the window. The sky was a pale grey, slowly brightening the mountains in hesitant light. The sun would rise soon, and with it, it would bring the first day of his new plan in motion.

Deceit closed his eyes in thought. A thousand paths unfurled in his mind’s eye, glistening like silk threads. Each thread was an idea, a scheme… a person. All waiting, blissfully unaware, for him to reach out to grasp the threads, to gently tug and guide them into the steps he wanted. Weave them into a dance so natural, so delicately planned that they did not realize the strings were there until it was too late.

Each thread was inspected meticulously, every possible outcome considered. His utmost focus however was on the thread that would be at the centre of his web.

Remus.

Deceit let his mind go to the man currently in his grasp. When the little prince had revealed who he was, last night on that mountaintop, Deceit had to force his hands to stay still, for his voice to remain steady. It had taken all his willpower to appear unaffected while his mind spun with shaky excitement. He had to reel himself in to not act in haste, but to listen first. Had Augusto finally grown careless enough to send his own son to finish him off, rather than the hero complex riddled fools who still occasionally dared to enter the mountains?

Turned out he hadn’t. Instead of getting an admission of a murderous plot against him, the boisterous prince had broken down in front of him. Lapping up the tiniest gestures of kindness Deceit gave him like he was dying of thirst. Apparently the Alveraz family couldn’t touch anything without destroying it, including their own children.

What a surprise.

So he had soothed the prince that wept in his lap, and carried him to his home. All the while his mind raced. When he finally placed the sleeping prince upon the cot in his laboratory, his plan slowly started to take form.

Now he only had to convince his guest to aid him. It wouldn’t be difficult. The prince already carried the pain of the rejection from his peers. All Deceit had to do was feed that resentment. Cultivate that hurt like a garden, placing a couple oh so carefully phrased suggestions to plant that seed of rebelling in his head. Sway him that Deceit was the only person left to trust. Until the prince was convinced it was his own idea to reject his former life and companions, without ever realizing someone else pulled at the strings attached to his wrists.

Deceit was an excellent puppet master, after all.

It would take him… three weeks? Or a month at most, until he had the little prince think what Deceit wanted him to. Easy. He had done this exact same thing a thousand times before. All he had to do after that was teach the prince all the tools he needed for his little coup, which hopefully would not take too long. And then… Then Deceit would claim his repayment.

He allowed himself a small smile. This is what he did best, maybe even more than the magic singing inside his veins. What was his magic but an extension of his mind? No matter how dire the situation was, no matter how much he was deprived of resources, he could always rely on his mind.

…But he shouldn’t become arrogant. He would rather die a hundred painful deaths than admit it, but he too made… mistakes (ugh). His unwavering trust in his own abilities had cost him greatly before.

This time he wouldn’t allow for any loose threads. This might very well be his last chance! He couldn’t afford to repeat his past mistakes. Not like with-

Tired eyes, darkened by the circles underneath them, looking up at him through unkempt bangs with an exasperated, but undeniably fond smile-

Deceit opened his eyes, taking in the soft light of the sunrise. He snarled at the twinge of his heart, weak little traitor that it was.

“Just don’t get attached again,” He sighed impatiently. “Then it should be fine.”

He stood at his window for a long time, taking in the view he had memorized to its finest details by now. Maybe he should see where Eris had slithered of to-

Deceit startled, whipping around and listening intently. From somewhere in the castle, the faint but distinct sounds of things falling, crashing, and breaking floated up towards his bedchambers.

It appeared that his guest was awake at last.

“Right,” Deceit cracked his fingers. “Showtime.”

--

After walking for about five minutes, Remus realized the one flaw in his otherwise brilliant plan.

It was night time. His gorgeous scaley paramour was most likely asleep.

A bit miffed Remus turned to go back to his room, only to realize he had NO idea where he was. With no other plan he choose a hallway at random, figuring that if he just tried every door he came across eventually he would find his chambers… Right?

An hour later he concluded that his plan was easier said than done. Remus looked between two identical hallways for a few minutes, before he had to admit it.

He was lost. And an idiot.

With no other choice Remus continued to explore. His wish to go back to his rooms gradually disappeared though as he ventured deeper and deeper into the castle. He hadn’t exactly paid attention to the castle itself before, distracted as he was. Now he   curiously took everything in. Unlike the rigid brick structure of his home, every room appeared to be carved into the mountain itself, much like his bedchambers were. In the dim candlelight of the candelabra Remus went down grand staircases, opened doors and traversed through many, many rooms. His footsteps echoed as he walked through a grandiose ballroom, ceiling high windows casting pale moonlight onto the floor, where tiny crystals glittered in the stone. From the ballroom he came into a dark lofty foyer, where sculptured pillars sprawled out into the darkness. Entranced Remus let his hand glide down one such pillar. The engraving pictured a dragon and a snake entwined together in breath taking detail.

Seriously, how big was this place?? Granted, his future lover to be deserved all the rooms and luxury in the world, but most of the rooms he came across were either empty, really dusty or a combination of both.

In the minutes that slowly ticked into hours Remus didn’t encounter a living soul, aside from some spiders in a corner. Not even mice or rats. A castle as big as this would attract rodents! Remus secretly fed the rats that ran through the walls of his home, he should know.

…Did his one true love eat the mice?

That thought made Remus stop in his tracks. Well, he was a snake... And so far he hadn’t encountered a kitchen yet. He tilted his head at the mental images… But then he shrugged.

“If he does eat mice, I will fully support him!” Remus proudly declared to the dark hall. “Probably very nutritious, those tiny cheese eating bastards…” He continued in a mutter as he pulled open another door. He vaguely wondered if he might accidentally stumble upon the room where the warlock slept. Probably in one of those grand beds with black silk sheets that perfectly frame his body-

Nope nope nope, shoving that thought away NOW. Remus quickly opened another door to distract himself.

Aha, finally some different interior! This room was quite packed with stuff. A LOT of stuff even! The room had to be some sort of library or storage room, as a circle of nearly ceiling high bookcases took up most of the space of the quite spacious room. Curiously Remus stepped inside. Through the windows Remus saw that the sky was brightening into hues of pink and orange, welcoming the rising sun. It gave him more light to inspect the room and its peculiar contents. Empty bottles, old books and skulls, mostly animal but some human were haphazardly strewn about the shelves, stuffed among boxes and some miscellaneous things. Remus saw a dusty lute, its strings flaccid from disuse, cauldrons black with soot and rolls with parchment that looked like they would crumble to dust if Remus were to touch them. A black suit of armour, detailed with gold-leaf, stood against the far end of the wall.

Remus gave a low whistle as he slowly circled around, craning his head to take in the large bookcases-

He stopped dead in his tracks. Suspended from the ceiling hung a skeleton. It was so large that it stretched out over the whole room. Remus’ jaw dropped.

Holy shit, was that the skeleton of a whale??

“…That’s not real!” Remus said, as he looked starry-eyed at the skeleton. “Can’t be! How the hell would he get it all the way up here on a fucking mountain??” Or was it real?? “No, no, it’s clearly fake! Not real!”

…Or was it?

One second Remus was staring up at the skeleton. The next thing he knew he had put down his candelabra and was climbing already halfway up one of the bookcases. He had to know, he HAD to know!!

When he reached the top shelf he stretched out his hand towards the skeleton. Damn it, it was still out of his reach! Frustrated he swung his arm to and fro, constantly missing his prize by a few centimetres. Come on, come on! He thought as he stretched out on his tippy toes. Almost! Almoooooost…

A piece of dust tickled his nose. Remus scrunched up his face, trying to repress the rising urge to-

“ACHOO!!” Remus’ sneeze echoed in the large room and shook through his body. The bookcase wobbled. Remus froze. Uh-oh.

“No. Nononononono-!” He pleaded as he felt the bookcase tip ever so gently backwards. He tried to wiggle it back in his place, but to no avail. With a cursed out shout Remus’ grip on the wood slipped. His stomach lurched as he plunged down and made hard contact with the stone floor. Sharp pain shot through his wrist. Remus cursed, cradling his arm close. His wrist however was the least of his concerns, as the bookcase tilted further and loomed over him. Remus paled as he saw the contents begin to slide. In a rain of bottles, books and boxes Remus had to half roll, half run out of harm’s way. One book landed painfully on his skull, but he came out of the downpour of years of clutter with no further injury. Remus breathed out in relief, but he was too quick. The bookcase heavily crashed against the second bookcase, which also started to dangerously tilt over.

“Nonononononono-!!” Remus desperately shook his head, holding out his uninjured hand as if to force the bookcase upright. To no avail. With a wooden groan the second bookcase lurched over, its contents gliding out and smashing to bits on the on the floor. And much like his predecessor it slammed into the third bookcase.

Helplessly Remus ran around as if to delay the inevitable, but in the end he could only look on horrified as the bookcases fell down one by one like a row of dominos, emptying their content with enthusiastic cacophony. Remus shrunk at every loud CRASH, every bottle that shattered and scattered glass over the floor. The vibrations through the floor made the suit of armour at the wall tremble.

“No, no, no please-!!” Remus wailed as he saw the helmet wobble.

With one final loud CLANG and BANG, the suit of armour fell to pieces on the floor. The helmet rolled over and came to a stop at Remus’ feet, who stood amidst the rubble like the last survivor of a grievous battlefield. Paralyzed as a rabbit staring down the wolf’s jaw, Remus took in the wreckage he caused. One final bottle slid down from the pile of books it landed on and doused Remus’ feet with glass.

“Okay, you know what?” Remus said with all the hysterical brightness of gambler who suddenly realized that he was playing a losing game. “New plan, new plan! I’m going to hide somewhere deep and dark,” He turned. “And hope he’ll never find me-!” “Good morning.” Deceit said calmly to his face.

“HOLY FUCK!!!” Remus flailed backwards screeching, tripped over the helmet and made a very ungraceful landing in a pile of what used to be several functioning bookcases. Remus cursed under his breath, tried to sit up, only to have another bookshelf give way underneath him, causing a pang of sharp pain to shoot through his banged up wrist. Letting out a fresh litany of curses, Remus finally managed to haul himself up in a sitting position amongst his created chaos. He gawked with open mouth at the sudden appearance of the most gorgeous man on earth the warlock, who gave him a very unimpressed look. When the fuck he did get here??

“Heh heh,” Remus nervously laughed. “You are…” He waved his hand up and down, trying to find a word. Stunning. Sexy. Hot as hell. “So quiet!” He settled on.

Deceit’s mouth quirked up in a small smirk and Remus swallowed thickly. Oh fuck… he got prettier. How the hell was that even possible??

“I try my best.” Deceit said dryly. Remus repressed the shiver that wanted to creep over his spine because of that oil-slicked voice. He wanted to crawl into the other’s throat and build his nest in those vocal cords just so he could listen to that voice always-

Any other dreamy visions instantly died when Deceit looked away from him, and instead took the room in slowly, examining the wreckage with a slight frown. Oh no.

“Care to explain to me,” Deceit said as he looked back at Remus. “What exactly happened here?” Remus suddenly thought that he maybe he should have just flung himself down a cliff when he had the chance.

“Uuuh… What happened? Did something happen, I don’t know-! What is a happening anyway-??” Remus babbled as he scrambled up from the mess in a fluster of uncoordinated limbs. When he finally stood he looked bamboozled at the shambled room like he hadn’t noticed it before. “Oh, this!” He laughed and turned to the other man with all the convincing act of a background actor in an amateur play. “I assure you, there’s a, uum… Perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Oh is there?” He asked amusedly.

“Hmm-hmm!” Remus nodded vigorously with a large grin.

“Well do tell!” Deceit said, as he waved his arms in an inviting gesture. “I’m all ears.”

Remus blanched. “Uuuuh…” He said, his mind racing. “Right! Yes! Okay, so get this-”

Words left his mouth without stopping by his brain first to say hello. Remus wasn’t sure what he was babbling on about as the minutes passed, but cut him some slack! The warlock’s calm attention made him more nervous than any yelling had ever done. He really wasn’t used to this. Usually people didn’t give him the time to explain himself! They just saw a mess, assumed he did it and started screaming. Not the warlock though. Deceit just listened, his hands resting in the small of his back, one eyebrow elegantly raised and an amused little smile playing on his lips while Remus kept spouting bullshit. God, what the fuck was he even saying anymore? He had no idea! Better end it quickly.

“-And that’s how it all happened, thank you very much, the end!” Remus squeezed out with his final breath. With a large gulp he leaned on his legs, wheezing slightly. Deceit tilted his head in thought.

“So… Just to recap,” The warlock said after a few seconds. “An army of gnomes broke through the window, had an orgy on my bookcases before summoning a demon, trashing the room and flinging themselves out the window whilst using their deal with the demon to magically fix the windows?”

…Fuck. Was that what he had been saying? Roll with it, roll with it.

“Yup!” Remus squeaked.

Deceit gave a short hum as he pursed his lips in thought. Remus allowed hope to flare up in his chest. Was he actually going to get away with this??

“You know,” Deceit said slowly. “For someone who’s very good at lying to himself, you are absolutely horrible at lying to other people.”

Aaaaaaand that hope died a gruesome bloody death. Right, well, Remus would say it was nice knowing himself, but that would be a lie.

“So, try again,” Deceit’s eyes hardened. “What happened?”

Remus crumbled into himself, wringing his hands together. “Well, I-!” He started, but stopped when Deceit raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t test me, little prince.” The warlock said evenly. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make Remus squirm. “I… I wanted to know if the skeleton on the ceiling was real…” Remus finally admitted in defeat as he pointed upwards at the skeleton in question.

“Right,” Deceit said with nod. “So did you satisfy your curiosity?”

“No… Because the bookcase I tried to climb fell over… Which made the other bookcase fall over, and then that one made the third one fall over, before-” No, stop talking. No one wants to listen to your stupid rambling, moron. “You get the picture…” He finished in a mutter.

“And there it is… The truth.” The warlock hummed. “Was that so hard?”

Remus didn’t answer. He kept from flinching when the warlock stepped closer by sheer force of will alone.

“Now. What to do with you…”

Remus stared at his feet. He knew what was coming next. He bit his lip, braced himself-

“Are you hurt?”

Remus blinked up at him. “…What-?”

“Are you hurt?” Deceit repeated patiently.

“I…” Remus stared. Wait… That’s… definitely not the direction this should go. “Not… Not really, I guess-?” He finally said, ignoring the dull ache in his wrist. That hardly even counted as hurt.

“Good.” Deceit smiled. He snapped his fingers, his eyes briefly flaring gold. A rumble erupted from the room behind him and Remus turned, only to gape when the room slowly started to rebuild itself. Bookcases righted themselves with a groan, the fractures in the wood disappeared in a golden glow, broken bottles fused back with a sharp singing sound. Remus had to duck when books flung themselves back to their original places; the suit of armour assembled itself back together. Remus was pretty sure he had to pick up his jaw from the floor when within a minute the room was completely spotless, like nothing had ever happened.

Heh, wouldn’t that be funny? If his jaw literally dislocated itself from his face to leave behind a gaping, bloody hole with only his wagging tongue left-

NO. No, that wasn’t a Roman thought! Focus!

“Well, that was that,” Deceit interrupted his thoughts. “Please refrain from climbing on tall things in the future. I would hate for you to break something I can not fix.”

Remus tore his bewildered wide-eyed look away from the newly restored room to stare back at the other. “You mean… Like the windows…?” He asked uncertainly. Deceit raised an eyebrow.

“I mean like your neck, dearie.”

Remus had no idea how to respond to that even if he wanted to. This was so far removed from how these kinds of conversations usually went for him that he was officially out of ideas.  

“Make no mistake,” Deceit said. “Next time you make a mess like this-”

Ah, right, now he would get the bodily threats, okay-

“-You will be cleaning it up yourself.”

…Or maybe not.

“And one more thing…”

Within the blink of an eye the warlock moved. Remus’ breath jittered to a stop when the other man was suddenly much closer, barely a hair width between them. Even without the golden glow Remus helplessly got lost in those fierce two-toned eyes.

“Do not lie to me again,” Deceit hissed, his fangs pushing out over his lower lip. “I do not appreciate being lied to, even when you are amazingly bad at it. Have I made myself clear?”

Remus’ heart thundered in his ears at the close proximity of the warlock. He drunk in every little detail that he had missed the first time, like how brightly yellow the left eye was. Or how the specks of gold in his hazel eye shimmered, as if his golden magic still shone through even without using it. Remus had thought they were about the same height, but this close he realized the warlock was juuuuuuust a smidge shorter than he was. He would have to lean down an eetsy-beetsy tiny bit to kiss those pretty lips. Remus had no idea why that little detail excited him so much, but it did.

“Super clear!” Remus squeaked, hoping to god he wasn’t blushing. Blushing was for the fucking weak. Deceit narrowed his eyes, giving him a sceptical glare. Remus tried to give him his best Roman-esque smile back. He couldn’t help but feel that on him it looked less charming and more like he was high off his ass.

“Right,” Deceit eventually said as he stepped away from him, and Remus bludgeoned down the urge to reach out and pull him back. “Are you hungry?”

Yes. Very hungry. Hungry for your DIC- “Yep! Definitely!” Remus brightly stopped his own head. “I could eat!”

Deceit gave him an odd look, but made no comment. “Come with me then.” He said as he waved him along. Remus followed him out of the room eagerly.

“Oh, and by the way,” Deceit threw a smile over his shoulder that made Remus’ legs all wobbly. “Yes. The skeleton is very much real.”

Remus swallowed. He was in so, so much trouble.

[justasparkwritings]

Green Light

Previous: 

Pairing: Harry Styles X Ex Reader, Harry Styles X New Girlfriend

Genre: Angst

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol use, Mentions of Drug use, Past Infidelity 

Listen: Green Light by Lorde

For the #playlistficchallenge by @harrystylescherry 

           The lights flicker against her skin, dancing pinks and purples and blues giving way to green as the bass thumps through the speakers. The light up floor is causing an illusion against her body as she hastily searches for her peers. Eyes darting across the club, trying to find the couple of the hour, but getting lost in the sea of drunk people dancing to a b-rate Whitney Houston cover, she’s becoming frustrated. Why play Whitney if you’re not going to play the original? She wonders, moving through the perimeter towards what she assumes is the VIP area. Being correct, she waits patiently for one of the guests to notice her, waving her into the exclusive space.

           He notices her first, beaten converse and magenta tulle, she dressed to kill. Standing, he moves towards the bodyguard, pointing to her as the guard gave her a once-over. Nodding, pulling the rope back, she smiles at the stranger before deftly moving into the space.

           “I didn’t know you’d be here,” Harry says, hand on the small of her back, flush against the exposed skin, lips low to her ear, guiding her towards their friends.

           “You’re such a liar,” She replies, rolling her eyes. The neon eyeliner, drifting over her eyelids and near her brows is striking against the dim lights. The single rhinestones applied carefully to the inner corners of her eyes bounce the light off, shrouding her in a conflicting color story.

           “You made it!” Daisy yells, arms reaching to pull her into a hug. It’s tight and sweaty, a sign she’s either been dancing or snorting.

           “I told you I’d be here,” Her smile widens at her friend, “Congrats again on your engagement.”

           “Thank you!!! Now please, drink. We have bottle service until midnight,” Daisy hands her a champagne flute, which she happily tosses back before reaching for the vodka. “If you’re good, you can have a little of what I’m having.”

           “I better behave,” She responds, eyes clocking Harry talking to Daisy’s fiancé, Jack.

           “I thought he wasn’t coming,” Daisy’s gaze follows hers, eying the man. His wide trousers and cropped jacket give way to the tattoos covering his chest, swallows in constant conversation. Hair recently cut, he’s scruffy and wanting, his eyes not hesitating to check her out for the second time in two minutes.

           “Lies,” She scoffs, eyes rolling again at the sentiment.

           “I swear! Jack said he was out of town,” Daisy counters.

           “Clearly he’s not,” She looks at their other friends, nodding and smiling to the familiar faces. Their friends from uni, from work, a few from their neighborhood in Holmes Chapel have all gathered to raise a glass at Daisy and Jack’s inevitable engagement. It feels like the kind of New Year’s party Harry would’ve dragged her to, on the pretense that it would be fun to catch up. Knowing he would be right, she would’ve gone and enjoyed the company of the people who knew her before she was on his arm, the people who knew him when he worked all hours at the bakery. Tonight, their friendly smiles weren’t hitting the same, welcoming her into their embrace, no, they were darting between her and Harry, unsure where their allegiance should lie.

           “Rumor has it, he’s got a new girlfriend,” Daisy says.

           “Super,” She purses her lips, eyes moving to search for whoever his latest trophy was.

           “Don’t be like that,” Daisy shakes her head, disappointment oozing from every syllable.

           “Like what?” She snaps.

           “You’re so mad he’s with someone else, when -

           “I thought we were done talking about what happened between us?” She interrupts, frustration and anger coursing through her veins.

           “If you were over it, you’d stop looking at him like that,” Daisy holds her own, tone unwavering.

           “Fuck off.”

           Handing her a drink, Daisy levels with her, “Drink.”

           Tossing back whatever was in the glass, she waits impatiently for the liquor to take over, coursing through her veins and reducing her heat to a dull simmer.

           In the months after the breakup, she hadn’t seen or interacted with Harry. No cursory texts, no awkward pleasantries exchanged at a birthday party, or running into him at the grocery. She didn’t speak to him, and yet he was everywhere. His voice, his favorite sayings, his touch, his music, all of it spread across the city, taunting her. She had let him go, literally, but figuratively, metaphorically, he was everywhere. Seeping into her thoughts, burrowing into her mind, never able to escape him even in sleep. Tonight, he looked at her like he didn’t know her at all, like she was the villain in his story, not the other way around. Like he didn’t let his work get the best of them, ruining what they had in its wake.

           Somewhere between drinks four and five, Harry’s latest lover arrives. Scarily tall and equally skinny, silky brown locks and pouty lips, it’s clear she’s a model. Whether she was with anyone or not, the bouncer lets her into the VIP section without a second thought. She floats towards Harry, sinking gently onto his lap before whispering in his ear. He smiles at her as she places a hand on his scruff covered cheek and lowers her lips to his.

           From the dance floor, she stares, unable to stop watching him move on from her. How could it be so easy?

           Pulling her attention back to the floor, Daisy spins her, moving them out of sight from Harry. The lights beneath their feet give way to a soft glow about her, the colors bending against Daisy’s white jumpsuit. She’s grateful for her friend, her best friend, grateful for the distraction of alcohol and blow, grateful to be dancing and screaming the lyrics instead of sitting in the tub at home, crying into her room temperature bath water. But grateful and grieving often go together, and as her level of intoxication ebbs, the hurt of seeing Harry with someone knew, she retreats to the VIP section to gather herself.

           “You must be Y/N,” The model says, moving from her post next to Harry to her.

           “Um, yes?” She responds, eyes traveling up the woman’s legs, slowly making their way to her face.

           “I’m Arden, Harry’s girlfriend,” Arden smiles, blinding, and sits down. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

           “Can’t believe everything you hear,” She scoffs, grateful for the bottle of water Jack hands her before going to find Daisy amongst the neon.

           “Harry speaks quite highly of you, so does Jack,” Arden continues to smile, blissfully ignoring the contempt she’s displaying.  

           “You’ve met Jack before?” She asks.

           “Just Jack, never Daisy, she’s stunning, right?” Arden asks, laughing.

           “Yeah, completely,” She nods, eyes traveling to find Daisy, her beacon in the club. She’s been best friends with Daisy since diapers, their mother’s best friends, hoping and praying they’d each have daughters to carry on the legacy of their familial bond.

           “Harry tells me you’re in publishing,” Arden tries again to make conversation.

           “Correct,” She nods again.

           “That’s amazing, I love reading,” Arden offers.

           “Same.”

           “I have a lot of downtime at work, I’m a model. I just did the new Rodarte campaign, and Gucci,” Arden is trying her damnest to make this work, but her motives remain a mystery.

           “Congrats,” She snorts, unimpressed by the model’s recent credentials.

           “Thanks, I just want to say, I know you and Harry are at this weird point in your friendship, but I do hope you’ll work it out.” Arden is serious, glossy blue eyes resolute.

           “Did Harry tell you why we broke up?” She asks, eyeing Arden suspiciously.

           “A little, but I didn’t ask. It was before me so really, who cares?” Arden forces a giggle, baby blues trying to break through the tension.

           “Right,” She nods, a slight eyeroll giving way to her true feelings.

           “I just thought maybe you two could, mend your –

           “Hey,” Harry says, making his way towards the two of you.

           “Hi babe,” Arden seamlessly slips her arm around his waist, pulling him close to her.

           “What uh, what are you two talking about?” Harry asks, eyes accusatory as he again takes in your stunning appearance.

           “I was just saying that we’re going to Tahiti after I finish my campaign with Gucci. Relax, sit on the beach, drink Mai Tai’s, surf, or really, for me, learn,” Arden rambles on, her hair bouncing in animation, matching her words. Her deft swerve to the topic of vacation surprising, unsure why she needed to lie to Harry.

           “The beach?” she asks, looking at Harry. He nods, cursory.

           “Yeah,” He sips on his drink.

           “Huh,” She responds, eyes narrow. “Will you excuse me? It was nice meeting you Arden.”

           Slipping out of the VIP section and into the night air, she feels his presence behind her, chasing after her as she moves through the crowd and into the brisk summer air.

Not bothering to turn around, she asks, “Why are you following me?”

           “Why did you just disappear?” Harry demands, coming to stand next to her. His warmth radiating onto her skin.

           “You’re here with someone else,” She reminds him.

           “You haven’t responded to any of my –

           “Harry, you are here with someone else, the very someone else who if I’m not mistaken, is the reason for our demise,” She turns to stare at him, eyes boring into his.

           “I, she’s not,” Harry shakes his head.

           “Oh right, because I am the sole proprietor of our heartache and failed relationship,” Another eyeroll. Her mother used to tell her that if you roll your eyes too many times, they’ll get stuck up there. A fear she was clearly ignoring.

           “You’re not,” Harry scoffs, they’d had this fight before.

           “Why are you looking at me like I am?” She’s unwilling to back down, a trait Harry once loved about her.

           “I’m, I’m sorry alright?” Harry’s flustered speech gives way to a run of his hand through his curls. Resting his hands on his hips, he stares at her.

           “Sorry for what?” She asks again, words clipped.

           “Everything,” He shrugs.

           “That’s the least specific apology I have ever heard,” She deadpans. He wants to respond with some witty banter, some lighthearted sarcasm, some joke a year ago, five years ago, she would’ve laughed at. But they’re not the same people they were six months ago.

           “What do you want me to say?” Harry’s exasperated.

           “I want you to tell me how you really feel, because we broke up six months ago, and I still don’t understand why you ran to her, whoever she was, instead of fighting for me. Then tell me why our friends think I’m the viper, I’m the one who broke your heart. Why are you spreading rumors hoping they’ll bite me, when they just show how pathetic you’re behaving?” Her volume increases exponentially as she speaks, until she’s nearly yelling at him.

           “That’s not fair,” Harry states, eyes closing as he shakes his head.

           “I’m trying to let go, Harry. But you fucking have your tentacles in everything I do! You’re everywhere.”

           “It’s so easy for me? You are everywhere. Every new song I write, every role I consider taking, every project. I still fucking talk to you like you’ll hear me, everywhere I go is tainted by some memory of us.” Harry spits back.

           “Tell me why, Harry. Why are you going to Tahiti?” She questions, voice cutting through the cold air and going straight to Harry’s heart.

           “I like the beach,” He shrugs.

           “You are such a fucking liar! No, you don’t!” She yells, arms reaching towards the summer sky as she shakes her head at him.

           “Maybe I’m trying out new things,” Harry stares at her, “Maybe I’m trying to be –

           “What, different? Better? You cheat on me, after saying that you will always be in love with me, which surprise, you’re not!”

           “Not a cheater?” Harry’s momentarily confused, a slight diversion from the rant she’s begun.

           “Not in love anymore,” Her eyes are wide, confused by his lapse in memory, “You’re not in love with me anymore. You cheated on me, lied to our friends and now you’re here with little miss long legs.”

           “Don’t call her that,” Harry says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Arden,”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Harry runs a hand through his locks again, sighing in frustration.

           “No, you’re not. If you were, she wouldn’t be here with you. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fighting with me outside the club. If you were sorry, you’d –

           “I need your forgiveness! Alright, that’s why I’m out here.” Harry’s voice raises several decibels. He’s been holding onto this for months, long before she found out, long before he willingly broke her heart.

           She lets out a shaky breath, “What?”

           “I need you to forgive me, to accept my apology, to, give me the green light that it’s okay to be, not yours anymore,” Harry explains.

           “You cheated on me!” She yells, finger pointing directly above Harry’s heart. “I have honored you by not telling our friends for what? You don’t get to have or ask for my forgiveness, I’ve already given you too much. Forgiveness went out the window when you fucked someone else Harry! How dare you ask me to forgive you, absolve you, for a sin you willingly committed. You were in complete control of yourself and you still cheated on me. You want a green light? That was fucking it.”

          She pushes past him, stomping back into the club and onto the dance floor, into the arms of someone else, someone who isn’t scared to kiss her above the dazzling lights, someone whose bedroom she’ll wake up in, unsure where she is, not caring to leave a note before slipping out into the city. And hopefully, after a few more escapades, the embrace of the rising sun on her walk home won’t echo his voice anymore. The birds chirping won’t sing his songs, and the sting of telling Daisy the truth won’t ring out over overcooked eggs and overpriced mimosas.

          Harry had wanted her to give him the green light, but in refusing to do so, she watched the light change for herself.

Next: Talia

[dalgonachan]

New Year's Resolution

pairing: Joshua x reader genre: new year, angst (if you squint), fluff warnings: alcohol use, fireworks prompt: a countdown to midnight at the balcony has you reflecting on the past year. joshua joins you to make some last minute resolutions. word count: 1146 a/n: happy birthday joshua!! and also a happy new year to everybody!! 🎉🎉🎉

Only fourteen minutes left until the clock struck midnight. From the balcony of your condo unit, you admired how the festive atmosphere made the city lights seem like they were glowing brighter. Everyone was anticipating the new year and it was already beginning to get quite loud. Through the thin walls, you could hear your neighbors next door blasting music, but you could barely recognize any of the songs from all the racket they were making.

To say you were annoyed was false. You were genuinely glad they were enjoying New Year's Eve just as everyone should be doing. So much positive energy and excitement were in the air, but you could not bring yourself to at least feel a tad bit of these emotions. The fact that other people were in the mood to celebrate made you feel jealous. This year was about to pass, yet you were still stuck living in it. So much could have been done to make the most out of it, but unfortunately there was just never enough time.

The door to the balcony slides open and Joshua leaves the warm comfort of your unit to step into the cold night air. In one hand he held a bottle of Sangria while the other held two wine glasses. He sets the crystalware down on the hanging table and pours a drink for each of you, filling up only until half. After sealing the cap back onto the bottle, he hands you your glass and you thank him with a smile. You swirl the liquid around and lift the rim up to your nose, relishing the rich aroma before taking a sip as Joshua does the same.

"The neighbors sure are rowdy for another successful revolution around the Sun party." He jokes and you chuckle.

"Tell me about it." You roll your eyes then shake your head. "If they keep this up, we probably won't get to hear the fireworks."

A loud clatter of metal on the floor startles the both of you and is soon followed by someone getting scolded for having clumsy fingers. Not that it was important, but it cuts your conversation short as you helplessly eavesdrop to the argument going on.

That was what things have been like between you for the last twelve months—short and awkward. Work was always in the way, making you busy with your own personal lives separately. Joshua's schedules were already hectic to begin with that there were nights he would return home worn out and exhausted. Due to this, many of your dates had to be called off. When he grew even busier with work and came home much later, he would walk into your unit and find you still waiting for him. The sight of you fast asleep on the table across his food which had already gone cold wracked him with guilt. Sadly, things did not get any better from there.

One night, he opened the door to the sight of his cold dinner sitting idly on the tabletop. The chair you usually sat on was empty and a green sticky note was attached to the side of his mug. He plucked it off from the ceramic surface and read the words written on it.

"Warm up the food in the microwave for 45 seconds. Sorry I couldn't wait anymore. I'm really sleepy zzz. Goodnight. I love you."

A small smile ghosted on his face as he sighed. Walking into your shared bedroom, he finds your peacefully sleeping figure under the sheets and comes closer to kiss the top of your head. After that, he changed out of his work clothes to do as you instructed in the note. Weeks later, you woke up to mornings wherein Joshua would no longer bother to eat his food. You threw away the untouched leftovers from the night before.

"Maybe I should come up with a New Year's resolution." You say with a faraway look in your eyes. "I'm going to make sure I'm always awake when you come home so that dinner isn't lonely for you."

Joshua giggles, admiring your innocent determination. If someone were to blame for the lack of quality time in your relationship, clearly he was the one at fault. However, your heart was overflowing with love and forgiveness that you held nothing against him.

"My New Year's resolution is to develop better time management skills." He said hopefully. "I've been so focused on work all year, I barely got to focus on us. I'm sorry."

You shake your head and gently place a hand on his arm as a gesture of reassurance. "I understand how busy you are and I'm fine with it. What's important to me is that you eat and rest well. As long as you make sure to take care of yourself, there is no problem."

"But it makes me miss you a lot." Joshua frowns, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I don't think I've hugged or kissed you enough this year. I rarely got to say 'good morning' and 'good night', not even an 'I love you' everyday. That's just the bare minimum and I couldn't even do it!"

With a roll of your eyes, you set the wine glass down and envelope Joshua in a bone-crushing hug.

"Stop being so cheesy, you dork." You playfully scold before pecking him on the cheek. "I love you. Do you feel better now?"

"Hey, I'm being honest." He said, looking at you right in the eyes. "I really want to make up for all the dates we cancelled. This year, I'm going to take you out on more and better dates."

The way he says it with so much conviction makes your heart speed up. Delight replaces the pensive mood you were feeling and the anticipation for New Year suddenly kicks in.

"I'm really looking forward to it." You say, beaming brightly at your boyfriend who mirrors your expression with his adorable crescent-shaped eye smile.

"You know what? Why don't we go to Lotte World for our anniversary?" He suggests and you gasp excitedly like a child.

"Oh my god, yes! Last time I've been there I was like elev—"

A bunch of exploding fireworks light up the sky with pretty colors as you hear a chorus of people yelling "Happy New Year!". You check your phone for the time and the clock reads "12:00 AM". Turning to look at Joshua, you greet him a happy new year who greets you back despite your voices being drowned out by all the noise. Just then, he kisses you full on the lips as more fireworks continue to erupt in the background.

When the kiss breaks, even with all the commotion, he swears he hears you whisper, "I wish for more moments like this for the both of us." to which he responds with "Me too."

[erule]

Summary: it’s the reader’s birthday and Dean, her boyfriend, has a surprise for her. There are also Sam, Cas and Jack in this story.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 1710

A/N: tomorrow’s my birthday, so I thought to write something cute and extremely fluffy to celebrate it! The sentence down here is from the song called Fine Line by Harry Styles, that inspired me to write this.

Story under the cut!

“𝑷𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒚”.

The bunker was quiet that morning.

She got up with a sense of fear, because usually she could hear Sam and Dean discussing about some case, with the noise of something burned getting inside her nose. She went to the kitchen, they weren’t there. Yeah, that was strange, because the always told her if they went out, even with a text, but this time, nothing. So, she tried to pray Castiel, wondering if Jack was with him on a case of if they were with the Winchesters, but he didn’t answer either. Very strange. Castiel always answered. He even appeared to her while she was fighting with Dean about something once.

Anyway, after the fact that no one had answered her calls and having searched for them likeanywhere in the bunker, she went out. The weather was cold and she only wore Dean’s usual t-shirt, therefore she was freezing to death. But well, here we were.

«Took you long enough, uh?» Dean said with a smile, arms crossed and back leaning against Baby.

«Are you crazy? I was worried about you!» she yelled.

«I am worried about you, since you’re half naked and not in our bed!» he replied, taking off his jacket to cover her shoulders. «Could you please get dressed?»

«Could you please explain to me what you have in mind? And were are the others? Did you kill them?»

Dean chuckled.

«Not yet. Look, I just have a surprise for you. Don’t ask and put something nice on.»

«Like a smile?»

«Like a dress» Dean said.

«Fine. Only for you.»

«Thank you very much.»

Here’s what she did: she took off Dean’s clothes, let her nose get drunk on his perfume for a moment and then got dressed. She wore a cute, simple red dress and a pair of sneakers. She wasn’t used to wearing elegant clothes as she went hunting every day, but she wasn’t the type who liked them either. Besides, Dean didn’t say they were going to the opera! By the way, who knows what he had invented… all that mystery was putting a great curiosity on her.

What she knew about Dean was this: he was a caring boyfriend. Sure, in his own way, but he was. He wasn’t someone who liked to talk about their feelings or put a label on their relationship, but she knew he cared and that was enough. She could see it when he glanced at her during a fight with a monster to see if she needed help; she could see it from small gestures, like when he brushed her thigh under the table just to understand if she was okay or uncomfortable; she could see it from his smile when she kissed him in the morning before going to get breakfast for everyone while he remained happy in bed. He appreciated her. Most people don’t do that, but he did. He always cared, even they fought, because she knew that his way to treat her bad after an argument was his way to say that he was hurt because he cared about her. Dean was a man of acts, not words.

«Y/N, are you ready?»

«Yes, babe!»

She got in the car and looked in front of her, thinking about what he could have thought: a pic-nic? A trip to nowhere? A trip to somewhere? The beach? No, it was Autumn, that ws not possibile.

«You’re wondering where we’re going, aren’t you?» he asked with a grin on his face. Stupid adorable Dean’s face.

«You know me.»

«Sweetheart, I promise you’ll love it.»

«I have no doubt about that, I’m just curious» she replied, but the curiosity was killing her from the inside.

Dean smiled.

«You’ll see.»

At first, Y/N didn’t get what he was doing. She looked at him extremely suspicious, while he was telling her about the resolution of a some old case with Sam. She nodded, still thinking, but well, it didn’t take Dean too long to make her laugh and distract her from her plan. She immediately responded, reminding him of that time in which she had to save him from a witch who was very much intrigued by him, but she was jealous she just knew something was off. That was the time before the case in which she almost got killed and Dean declared his eternal love for her.

«I remember very well I just said: I feel something for you, Y/N» Dean replied.

«No, you didn’t.»

And then, he kissed her and she, three years later, didn’t recall a better memory than that.

And so they arrived. Y/N got out of the car and when she stepped on the ground, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

«Dean, are you serious?»

«What ever made you believe otherwise?»

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying in vain to hold back her tears. Here’s what Dean had done: he had asked everyone to go out and not answer her because he wanted her to join him outside the bunker, then they had traveled by the car for a couple of hours, eating something for breakfast, laughing and talking about everything. All of that just to take her there, on that hill where he had told her he loved her for the first time, to watch the sunset together. He had confused her ideas because they had walked streets after streets, without her realizing that they were not really going anywhere, because they had to go back in the end, since that place was not very far from the bunker. And so, in the end, his gift to her was his time.

«You’re such a romantic man, Dean Winchester» she said, putting her arms around his neck with sweetness.

«Sometimes» he replied, smiling while looking away.

«You know, I remember when you admitted you were head over heels for me, here.»

Dean open his mouth in disbelief.

«Me? You were so desperate for a kiss from me!» he said and Y/N laughed.

«Not true at all!»

It ended up with Dean tickling her until she declared she couldn’t take it anymore, so they sat and watched the sun die behind the skyline of the city in the distance.

She rested her head on Dean’s arm, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the temple. He’d given her the one thing no one could buy: his time, the same time they hadn’t had for weeks because they’d been busy with cases. She could never be grateful enough for that.

«The others are waiting for us at home. Tell me when you want us to go back.»

Y/N closed her eyes.

«Never.»

Dean laughed.

«You can always bribe me with a slice of cake or a kiss, you know. I would prefer cake just because I’m hungry.»

She laughed.

«I bribe you with both, my love» she replied, giving him immediately a kiss.

She took his face in her hands as they fell with their backs against the grass, letting her legs intertwine with Dean’s, slipping into a whirlwind of warmth, sweetness and passion at the same time.

They didn’t notice the time that passed. They only realized they were late when Castiel called them worried about where they were, because he, Sam and Jack were waiting for them at the bunker. At that point, they had to get up and go back, but not before they had bought something for dinner.

Once home, Y/N started to enter, but Dean stopped her at the door.

«Hey, I wasn’t completely honest with you before» Dean said, taking her hand. She looked at him, confused. «You know I don’t like chick flick moments, but today is your day, so I’ll make an effort. I just want to tell you that I need you in my life and I think this pretty much sums up how I feel about you.»

Her bottom lip trembled. She felt her eyes burning, but she didn’t cry. She just breathed out and then hugged him so tight her chuckles became white.

«Thank you.»

Dean caressed her hair.

«Yeah. Now we have to go, cherry pie.»

Y/N composed herself and then they entered in the bunker. The lights were off, but they were turned on when Sam, Cas and Jack screamed Happy birthday! Y/N was astonished.

«Oh guys, you didn’t have to bother!»

«You’re joking, right?» Sam asked, while running to her in order to hug her. «Happy birthday, Y/N.»

«Thanks, Sam» she replied. «And there was the pie!» she said, looking at Dean, that was caught while he was looking at it so greedily. «You don’t even look at me like that!»

Sam laughed.

Then, they finally had the chance to chat and celebrate her birthday properly. For once, there was no day that was bleeding or someone who got hurt. It was just the five of them, a family, enjoying a special moment. She looked at Dean, across the table, who was laughing out loud at Sam’s jokes and thought she was grateful for all she had.

Before going to sleep, Y/N sat down on the bed he shared with Dean, his shirt back on and her arms wrapped around her knees. She watched him enter the room and look at her in confusion.

«What’s wrong? Do I still have some cake on my face?»

«No, you just look happy. I had missed it.»

Dean took a seat next to her on the bed.

«Do you know what I like about you? That after five years of being together you always look at me as if I were the most beautiful miracle that has ever happened to you. I wish you could see it» he said, with so much light in his eyes.

«And I would like you to know how much I appreciated the gift you gave me today. I can never repay you enough for this» she replied, putting her arms around his neck and caressing his hair.

«Are you sure? Because there is a very interesting way to do that…»

Y/N chuckled.

«I thought that it was my birthday, not yours.»

«Well, technically, midnight is long past now, sweetheart» Dean replied.

Y/N gave him a kiss on his lips.

«Let the party begin, then.»

[blissfulalchemist]

multiples of 5 + get a room xx

Hello Stella this was a lot but! here we are!

5. What do they like the most about each other?

Both can very much appreciate their shamelessness for public flirting and PDA. We won’t also state the other obvious thing both like about the other. On a sappy level though Hayat most likes Mason’s ability to find the darkest corner of any room no matter how bright it is. Truly that is a fucking skill and just HOW!? can you make that happen sir???? What Mason likes the most about Hayat is the way he’s ready with something to lighten most deadly situations that can make you want to smile or laugh if it was any other setting other than impending doom. Seriously sir, you are literally bleeding out and you’re trying to make a joke about getting laid right here and now???

10. How do they resolve their arguments?

Both are terrible in that they will kind of just ignore it or just put it to the side and then never come back to it until they have too, which means it built up a bit more than just something that could have been a smaller argument. Typically though most resolutions happen at night and on roofs or balconies and the like. Life’s a lot calmer during that time of day and its also easier on Mason’s senses which in the heat of the moment are harder to control and that extra stimulation isn’t helpful in quelling any kind of anger or feelings of upset. This is usually when Hayat will take the initiative to leave if Mason hasn’t done it by that point. In the end one of them will come to the other and get it resolved not too long after. Both are man enough to admit when they were in the wrong.

Rarely (surprisingly) there is little make up sex. Most of the bigger arguments are in relation to things that are emotionally deep and intimate, which both have to relearn or find out and you can’t just do that with sex. 

15. Who pays for the food the most, when they go out?

Hayat. Not that Mason doesn’t have the means or is opposed to it, Hayat just beats him to the punch and is paying before it can even process in Mason’s head that he should pay for food every now and then (even id he himself doesn’t eat very much).

20. Do they give each other nicknames?

Mason calls Hayat by two different nicknames. The first one being the nickname Hiya as this is something approved by Hayat himself, though he still rolls his eyes over Hiya picking that kind of nickname as its some version of a pun technically. Mason also calls him “Handsome” which made Hayat a bit uncomfortable for a while there. This was even said before they even slept together and god Hayat thought he was going to die or hit him eventually as well....Bobby also called him “Handsome”. Given a little time it started to change and Hayat warmed up to the name and by Book 3 happens that old association really leaves him when hearing Mason say it. 

Hayat will shorten Mason’s name to Mase now and then, but this is also a sort of pun name as he can threaten people with the phrase “I’m gonna Mase you” which basically means “I’m gonna send my anger inclined boyfriend at you”. This threat is very rare and only is said when the timing is right. (Yes my son needs help). Hayat also refers to Mason as “Eshgham” which translates to “My Love” or “Delbar-am” that translates to “One who stole my heart” when they’re being a little sappy and also “Kharâbetam” which translates to “I’m ruined for you” typically when its more private behind closed doors as it’s a bit more intense than the other two.

25. How do they comfort each other when one of them is scared?

Hayat’s a bit better at it than Mason in comforting but there’s a check in between the two of them. Sometimes its silent and both can tell where the other stands in their fear. Other times it is asked aloud and also paired with a touch of some kind. Even when these two are asking it jokingly there is always a hint of looking out for the other and just making sure that there’s truth to what is said. Honestly just being near one another is enough to comfort when they’re scared. 

30. Do they attend any clubs or formal parties together?

Neither are really suited to formal parties to be honest. They will if they must or if its something that is involved with family and such, but neither are really the formal type. 

35. How do they spend time if the other is gone?

Both have a life outside of the other and so many times they will partake in that side. Hiya has a good amount of friends that he likes to spend time with and Mason also has Unit Bravo along with work so he can focus on that.

40. Thoughts on kids?

Hayat likes kids and never plans on ever having them unless it feels right or just happens. Mason’s personality doesn’t lend itself to being kid friendly but is mostly indifferent.

45. How are birthdays spent?

Hey Mason! You’ve never had a birthday party! Well guess what! You’re getting a birthday party! It won’t be very big or elaborate but it’ll be a small celebration with cake, balloons, games, music, and the party hats. All planned by Hiya and encouraged by Felix.

Hayat typically ends up having a small party as Tina likes to have fun and then his family like to celebrate so they have a mini party. However! Hayat was born on Leap Year and you can bet that there is an even bigger party that is themed with the appropriate age so at his 2020 celebration he will be 7! such a big year :’).

Once all the day party stuff is over though there’s a good amount of private celebrating happening. The gift that is consistent between them involves a weekend away.

50. Who makes the best flower crown?

Hayat. He doesn’t make them often and really ends up needing help but when he gets something he’ll give them to members of the team. Mason isn’t a fan to say the least but for Hiya he’ll reduce the scowl.

55. Are they a super sappy couple?

Sappy as in kissy faces and nicknames and just like adorable-ness? No…..well the kissy faces sure but if it goes on long enough you may want to avert your gaze. Look they are very forward with each other and they don’t show any signs of being uncomfortable with it. In private you get the more sappy moments but even then there’s this casualness with them that leads to it seeming only as a physical relationship. Really it’s more Hayat that can be the sappy one.

60. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

Mason primarily (Sir I cannot wait for you to meet the Ex). Hayat doesn’t like to let himself turn to violence so it would take a lot of anger to do so.

65. Who loves kids more?

This would go to Hayat more. He acts somewhat like a kid himself and he can keep them fairly entertained and help them feel reassured if they’re scared. Hayat comes from a fairly big family and there were always kids around so he enjoys their company.

70. Who is the hopeless romantic?

I have to give this one to Hayat as he can be a bit more of an outward hopeless romantic. I do believe that Mason is the secretive hopeless romantic that isn’t fully aware that he is.

75. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)?

Mason doesn’t listen to much music as its hard to find things that are easy to handle with the heightened senses.

Hayat likes more of the pop punk music. Bands like Fall Out Boy, All Time Low, Reliant K, AWOLNATION, Walk the Moon, The Killers, etc. To compensate for the harshness of some of the songs Hayat has made a specific playlist of acoustic covers and softer songs to play when Mason is near and not really up for enduring his normal playlists. 

80. What do they love about each other the most?

Hayat loves the genuineness of Mason. Like admittedly there’s some secrets and like holding back but that more stems from needing trust in order to talk about that kind of stuff. With Mason its really a “What you see is what you get” kind of person and more importantly with this is that Mason’s actions match with what he’s saying. That is just so important for Hiya now as it gives him the most comfort in pursuing something with him.

For Mason its this ability for Hayat to be invading but also keep his distance. Hayat will press and stick close to Mason with emotional stuff but he’s not pushy about it and will let Mason take the time needed to figure stuff out. Hayat doesn’t also just brush Mason off with his needs or attitude. Mason wants to be close to someone but wants a sort of setting where you’re alone together (like you and your partner are in the same room but doing different things with the occasional shout out) and Hayat lets that happen.

85. Who accidental sets something on fire?

I’d say both as one day that lighter’s gonna get Mason in trouble but it would be more Hayat. Sometimes he likes to just fiddle around with tech stuff and the wrong wires get crossed and soon there’s a mini fire happening. What can you do?

90. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home?

Both, but Mason would pick the kitten/cat up and bring them home to Hayat more than a puppy. Just seems a bit more like a cat person. 

[justthehiddleswrites]

Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 4 |  ...I End It?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?

This Chapter:  Tom expresses his concerns to Emma about Bryce but will she heed his words? And what happens when Emma’s birthday comes around?

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthly relationships

-

“I said he is the wrong guy for you.” Tom repeated through gritted teeth.

Emma furrowed her brow. “Who in the hell do you think you are?” Emma spat back, pulling away from Tom.

“Emma, Em…” Tom reached out. “I’m only looking out for you. Bryce…”

“No! You are only looking out for yourself! Bryce and I are fine!” she snapped back.

Tom sighed. He turned his back to her, calming himself before speaking again. He rubbed his neck as he turned to face Emma. Her face reddened, her fists clenched at her side. “I’m sorry, Em. I went about this all the wrong way.”

“You’re damn right you did!”

Tom winced. “I respect you are in a relationship with…” Tom swallowed hard. “Bryce. I won’t interfere. But I have feelings for you, Emma. And they aren’t going away.”

Emma unclenched her fists and her shoulders relaxed. “If you won’t interfere, then why? Why try to sow seeds of doubt?” Emma narrowed her eyes, studying Tom looking for signs of ulterior motives.

Tom ran his fingers through his hair. Why was he doing this? Did the whole thing matter? he pondered. “Well…” he started as he stepped towards her. “… it’s that I see how you are with him. You don’t seem like you’re happy.”

Emma frowned. She never considered she might be unhappy with Bryce. Sure he could be a bit much but he took care of her. “You don’t understand. I am happy. Bryce and I are happy.”

Tom took another step and took her hands in his. “If you are so happy, why didn’t you tell me at dinner? Or stop me from kissing you?” Tom gave a small smile as he rubbed the pads of his thumbs against her knuckles. The motion sent shocks through Emma. She swore that Tom’s mere touch affected her to the core.

“I… I… was going to tell you.”

Tom’s smile widened. “Before or after I kissed you again?” Tom leaned down and ran his thumb down the side of her face before tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. God, he wanted to taste her lips again.

“Before.” Emma responded as she turned out of Tom’s hand and walked towards the door, her back to him to hide her blushing cheeks.

Tom grabbed her shoulder and spun her in place. “I need you to tell me we are okay before we go back.”

Emma turned and smiled. “Of course we are.” She gave his arms a rub with her hands. “Friends?” she extended a hand.

The word “friends” broke Tom’s heart. He didn’t want to be Emma’s friend. He wanted more. He wanted all of her. Every inch, every moment. He wanted her to be his and his alone. But he realized a romance wasn’t possible right now. “Friends.”

He took her hand and gripped her hand tight, pulling her into a hug. He kissed the temple of her forehead. “Please consider what I said.”

Emma nodded. They jumped apart as the door creaked open, one of the other men entered the room.

���Tom?” he hesitated as he stepped in. “Everyone’s waiting.”

Tom gave the man a smile.

“We’ll be right in.”

The man nodded and gave a curious look at the two of them before closing the door.

“Shall we?” Tom offered his hand.

Emma nodded and took his hand and he led her back to the room.

-

The meeting ran smoothly and everyone seemed enthused about the project. Tom sat across from Emma and she swore he kept stealing glances at her during the meeting. As everyone filed out, Tom caught Emma. “Lunch?”

“I can’t. I have lunch with Corrinne.”

“Another time.”

Tom nodded and walked off while Emma headed to her car.

-

The drive to the restaurant gave Emma enough time to consider Tom’s conversation. Is Bryce that bad? Emma reflected back to when the relationship started. Back in the beginning, Bryce lavished her with attention. Wined and dined her. Bought her presents. Somewhere along the line, things changed. Bryce no longer reached for the check. He paid less attention to her when they went out. Lately, anything and everything Bryce did got on her nerves.

But she also remembered the good things. He took care of her and made sure she always looked her best. As she pulled into the parking space, Emma was even more conflicted than ever.

Corrinne waited outside. If she caught Emma’s emotional state, she said nothing. They sat down and ordered drinks.

“So what's new with you?” Corrinne started.

“Do you think Bryce and I should break up?”

Corrinne spit her water back into her glass. “Woah! Where is this coming from?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. Tom was saying…”

“Oh I see, Tom was saying.” Corrinne leaned on her elbows.

“It’s not like that.”

“Tell me what it is like. Tell why Tom Hiddleston has such a hold on you.”

Emma lifted her glass to her lips. “We slept together.” she mumbled into the glass as she took a drink.

Corrinne’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?! Did you say you slept with Tom ‘I’m carved from marble’ Hiddleston?”

Emma averted her eyes.

“When? How? Explain yourself, missy!”

Emma sighed. “About five years ago in New York, we met in a hotel bar. I just won the role on All My Heart. We drank a few drinks. One thing led to another. We never met each other again until that day in the restaurant.”

Corrinne slumped in her chair, overwhelmed with information. “And you told Bryce, right?” Corrinne questioned after several moments.

Emma choked. She didn’t consider Bryce finding out. “Of course not. And no one is to tell him. He already feels he needs to compete with Tom. We ran into Tom last night at dinner.”

“How’d that go?”

“I left for the restroom. When I got back, Tom seemed tense. And then today…”

“Yes, today. What exactly did Tom say to you?”

Emma recounted the whole exchange.

Corrinne leaned back in her chair and whistled. “Well, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know!!!”

“You better figure it out because right now you are in a relationship with one man while another man is telling you he has feelings for you. And that another man happens to be one of the hottest men on earth.”

Emma slumped in her chair before dropping her head to the table. “How do I get myself into these situations?”

“Talent.” Corrinne snapped as the waiter walked by to place their food down. “Talent and the worst luck ever.”

“Clearly.” Emma shot her a glance. “But what about Bryce?”

“What about Bryce? Do you love him or not? It is that simple.”

Emma fell silent as she picked at her food. Was it that simple? She contemplated the question as she pushed the food around on her plate. She didn’t eat with so much on her mind. It should be that simple but it wasn’t; three lives at stake after all. Over the last year and a half, her life and Bryce’s became more and more intertwined. Ending the relationship would be ugly. Something about how Tom made her feel caused Emma’s stomach to flutter. Her skin burned with fire when he touched her. Her brows furrowed.

As Emma furrowed her brows in deep contemplation, Corrinne sat back and watched her friend toil. Once Emma got something on her mind, she refused to let it go until she came to resolution. Corrinne had learned to watched from the sidelines.

The two women finished up the meal and left their separate ways. Emma returned home, grateful Bryce remained at the gym. She need solitude to work this out.

-

The rest of the week flew by in a flash. Meetings and fittings filled the rest of Emma’s week. She found herself flustered every time Tom was in the same room as her. Tom caught her reaction; he smiled and laughed every time Emma stumbled or blushed in his presence. He never acted to Emma in any other way than of a friend, but the rumors still flew.

Every time the two of them entered a room, the conversation stopped for a moment. Emma noticed stares and heard sniggering from corners. Tom and Emma kept everything on a professional level but nothing stopped the rumors of something more scandalous going on after hours.

Friday arrived and Emma met the weekend with relief. Two days without the stares and whispers. Two days holed up in her house without a single obligation.

“Any big plans for the weekend?” Tom asked as he popped up behind her.

“Ah!!” Emma yelped at the sudden intrusion. “You scared me. I didn’t notice you.”

“Sorry about that.” Tom chuckled and ran his fingers through his curls. “But you haven’t answered the question.”

“Umm. Yes and no. Today’s my birthday.” Emma responded as she continued to pack up her things.

“Happy Birthday! I imagine you are having a big party with Bryce.” Tom choked on the last word. He hated saying the man’s name.

“Actually, I’m not, just a quiet evening tonight. I’m on my way to pick up the cake.”

“I won’t keep you. I hope you have a good weekend. And call me if you need anything. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Monday. Thanks Tom.”

Tom gave a small nod and walked away with a forced smile on his face. He hated this. He hated not being with Emma. He hated that Bryce is spending her birthday with her instead of him, doing God knows what. The idea made him sick to his stomach. He hurried away so Emma wouldn’t see his face. He didn’t want to make the whole situation more awkward than he already did.

Emma picked up the cake she ordered weeks ago. A sugar and gluten filled confection but she didn’t care; it was her birthday. And for one night, Bryce could take the diet and shove it.

Bryce told her not to make any plans for the weekend and Emma hoped that meant a surprise party. Emma left that morning while Bryce slept and he didn’t respond to her most recent text on the way home. Neither did Corrinne. Bryce gave no hint what her present might be. The entire house sat in darkness as she pulled up. Her stomach flipped at the prospect of a surprise party. She steeled herself for the onslaught when she opened the door.

“Honey…” she started as she entered from the garage, switching on the light in the kitchen. Silence met her words. She glanced around the living area and spied no signs of any celebration at all. The place looked exactly the same as this morning.

Emma walked through the house. “Bryce?”

Nothing. “Bryce? It’s Em!” she called.

Everything appeared untouched until she got to the home gym. In the middle sat a rowing machine with a big bow wrapped around.

“You have to be shitting me.” she groaned.

The rowing machine. That was Bryce’s present to her. A fucking rowing machine.

“Real romantic honey.” she cursed as she flicked off the light and headed back to the kitchen.

At that time, she spotted the note on the island.

Last-minute trip to Austin. Got the big Primal Athletics sponsorship. Be back Sunday. Love, Bry

Emma turned over the note, looking for some mention of her birthday. None. She crumpled up the note and threw it in the garbage. As she pulled a wine glass from the cabinet, she punched in Corrinne’s number.

“Hey, it’s Em. Want to hang out tonight. Bryce ditched me to go to Austin. Call me.”

She tossed the phone on the counter and picked out a bottle of a nice red wine from her stash. After popping the cork, she gave herself a generous pour. Her eyes darted between the cake box and her phone. She took a big gulp of wine and punched in a number. It picked up on the second ring.

“Want to come over for some cake?”

[lovemesomesurveys]

do you sing in the shower? Yeah, I have a shower playlist on my Spotify I sing along to.

do you think money makes people happy? It certainly helps, sure, but you can still be unhappy and unfulfilled. It’s not everything.

what's your relationship status? Very much single.

what time is it? 3:29AM.

what emotion are you feeling right now? Tired and irritated.

do you have netflix? I do.

have you ever traveled outside your home country? Once.

coffee or tea? Coffee, of course. 

shower or bath? Shower.

what's your favorite pizza topping? Extra cheese and sauce, spinach, cilantro, green onion, garlic. 

what's something that makes you happy? Beach days.

do you have siblings or are you an only child? I have two brothers.

what's your favorite instrument? Piano.

what's your favorite food? Italian, Mexican, and American.

what is something you are always losing? My mind, probably. <<< That’s how I feel.

are you good at spelling? I think so.

what is one goal you have? Get my health stuff under control.

did you get a flu shot this year? No. I never have.

what's your favorite Disney movie? A few of my top favorites are Alice in Wonderland, Winnie the Pooh, Toy Story and A Goofy Movie.

are you bored? No.

what are you listening to? An ASMR video. what's your favorite foreign language? Spanish.

what do you do when you can't sleep? My nightly routine consisting of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR.

do you like cats or dogs better? Dogs.

do you have any piercings? Just my earlobes.

what's your favorite vegetable? Potatoes, spinach, green onions, broccoli. do you eat meat? Yeah.

what's the best concert you've ever been to? All of ‘em. Concerts are just a fun, cool experience.

what's your favorite season? Fall and winter.

do you still write letters? No.

what would make you really happy right now? If I was able to have beach vacay.

what's your favorite song? I have a lot.

are you good at giving advice? I wouldn’t recommend asking me for advice; I’m a mess.

what's your favorite hobby? Reading and doing surveys.

do you prefer to talk or text? Text over talking on the phone.

what's your favorite pair of shoes? My Adidas.

how often do you read? (as in books) I read a lot. I finish one and start another. There’s a few different series I’ve been into that’s been keeping me occupied.

do you have any pets? I have a doggo.

what's your favorite day of the week? I don’t have one.

are you in college? No, I’m done with school.

are you/have you ever been in a long distance relationship? No.

how do you typically listen to music? I use Spotify.

do you like going to the beach? I love the beach.

did you make any new year's resolutions? No, I stopped doing that years ago.

how old are you? 31 years old.

do you know anyone who is blind? No.

who is someone you admire? My mom.

do you have a good singing voice? No, unfortunately. 

are your nails painted? Nope. It’s been a few years since I’ve painted them.

Are you an extrovert or introvert? I’m definitely an introvert. 

what are you having/had for dinner tonight? I don’t know, yet.

do you ever write in a journal? This is my journal/diary.

if you could time travel when/where would you go? My childhood. what's your favorite animal? Doggos and giraffes.

what's your favorite kind of cereal? The sugary ones.

how was your day? It’s only 4 in the morning. 

do you ever listen to classical music? Not often or regularly, no.

what inspires you? I haven’t felt inspired in a very long time.

how many pillows do you sleep with? Finally had to pack away a lot of them cause they were just taking up too much space. I currently have 4 on my bed, but prior I had like 10. I only actually use 2.

how many hours of sleep do you need? I never have enough.

do you have big or small feet? Small.

what's the weather like where you are? Miserably hot.

what's the most interesting thing you can see out the window? It’s pitch black out right now. 

does/did your high school have a school song? Yeah.

what month is your birthday in? July.

what's your dream job? I don’t have one. :/

are you excited for summer? Noooooo. D:

what foreign country would you want to live in for 6 months? Hmm. I’d have to really think about that.

did you have to go to school today? No, I’m done with school.

win a million $$ or never have to pay for anything again? Never have to pay for anything again, obviously. <<<

do you throw coins into fountains? Sometimes.

do you have a trampoline? No.

what's your favorite song lyric? I have many.

what did you eat the last time you went to the movies? Popcorn and mini KitKats. 

do you ever measure time in songs? When listening to music I sometimes do that. Like, when in the shower I measure how long to leave my shampoo in my hair that way.

do you know how to play chess? Nope.

what's your favorite game? (any type) Mario Bros, The Sims, various board games..

do you enjoy traveling? I don’t get the opportunity to do a lot of it, but yes.

do you tend to wait till the last minute? Yes.

have you ever owned a goldfish? Yeah.

how do you relieve stress? Cry.

without looking it up, guess the outside temperature? 82F.

now look it up - how close were you? Ha, I guessed way too high it’s only 52. It’s been getting really warm in the mornings so I assumed it was already high.

do you prefer digital or analog clocks/watches? Digital.

do you prefer to shop in stores or online? I’ve been doing a lot of online shopping the past few years even pre-COVID, but since COVID that’s all I’ve done until just recently as I’ve started to venture out to places like Target and Walmart. I haven’t gone to any clothing stores or any other store, yet, but I’m working towards it. Anyway, all that being said I do enjoy shopping online, but it’s nice to get out there and shop once in awhile. It’s definitely more comfortable and convenient for me right now, though.

do you enjoy coloring? I love my adult coloring books. <<<

do you like to dance? I don’t really dance.

have you ever owned a horse? No.

do you take selfies? Rarely. I did for the first time in a long time recently at my bro’s grad party.

do you ever listen to music in languages besides English? Not often, but sometimes.

have you ever cried from listening to a song? Oh, definitely.

what's your favorite song from a movie? I have several favorites. 

do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds.

who was your favorite music artist when you were 10? Britney Spears, N*SYNC, Backstreet Boys, etc. <<<

when was the last time you had to go to the dentist? It’s been a few years.

can you speak Spanish? Very little.

what's the last thing you watched on youtube? I’m currently watching an ASMR video.

now what time is it? 6:09AM. I clearly took a break. Well, actually I feel asleep.

do you ever watch musicals? Yeah, some.

do you know anyone who's a twin? Yeah.

do you ever get carsick? Yes.

what's your opinion on wolves? They’re gorgeous, but I wouldn’t want to be near one.

when you're sad do you prefer sad music or happy music? I go for the sad.

do you like seafood? Nooo.

do you enjoy going to the zoo? I enjoy seeing zoo animals, but I hate that they’re in captivity like that. <<<

are there any celebrities from your hometown? Yes.

do you shower in the morning or at night? At night.

do you prefer to work alone or in a group? Alone.

do you go to the gym alone or with a friend? I don’t go to the gym.

do you like coconut? I like the scent but not the food. <<<

who is someone you're jealous of? No one.

what's your favorite place to go out for breakfast? IHOP, Denny’s, and this local place.

do you still have your christmas tree up? Ha, no. And I actually have the decorations in my room put away as well, which prior to this year I had up for two years. 

do you have a favorite type of bird? No.

have you ever had an overnight flight anywhere? No.

if you use them, tell me 5 of your recently used emojis I don’t feel like checking.

do you know anyone that plays the violin? *shrug* I might.

how much money is in your wallet right now? Not sure, exactly.

anything you're looking forward to tomorrow? No.

have you ever auditioned for anything? Nope.

did you have a webkinz when you were younger? No.

how would you describe your aesthetic? I have no idea.

have you ever been told you look like a celebrity? No. 

when was the last time you rode a bus? Back when I was still in college, so 6 years ago.

if you saw $50 on the ground what would you do? If no one was around, I’d pick it up and keep it. If it was in a wallet, I’d turn it in. <<< That’s what I would do.

do you know how to play any unusual instruments? No. 

are you an early bird or a night owl? Both, really. Here I am at 6:17AM basically up all night. I dozed off for a bit, but still.

have you ever had trouble understanding someone because of an accent? Yes.

do you ever go to Massachusetts? I’ve never been.

do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Not that I know of.

what was the most memorable rainbow you've ever seen? (if any) Uhh.

do you remember anything from when you were 5 or younger? Just spotty preschool memories.

do you need to do laundry? No.

do you know anyone (including yourself) who actually enjoys math? Ew, definitely not me.

do you have a favorite poem? No. I haven’t read a whole lot of poetry.

if you were from somewhere else, would you visit your town on vacation? Uh, no. There’s absolutely nothing to do here. We’re not a vacation/touristy city.

where would you spend $100 if you had to spend it all in one store? Ooh, probably Boxlunch.

would you rather go to Japan or Greece? Greece.

now what song are you listening to? I’m not listening to a song at the moment.

what are you wearing right now? Leggings and a Mario Bros shirt.

any fun plans for the weekend? Nope.

[aneiria-writes]

possible prompt ?? dramionaise - everyone thinks they're already dating but the three of them are just like ??? we are what ??????? bonus points if they're secretly fwb or something

Oooooh nonny, what a great prompt this was! Thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you like it (also it’s about 1600 words, I’m terrible at actual drabbles 😂) Warning - mildly NSFW references

‘Hermione?’

Hermione Granger was daydreaming when the familiar voice broke her reverie. As she drifted back to reality, she realised with a horrified start she’d been staring at both Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. They were propping up the bar, in their exquisitely cut dress robes, laughing and joking with Pansy Parkinson who looked stunning as usual in a full-length ball gown in glittering gold.

From Hermione’s side, Harry Potter followed her gaze, and she snapped her attention back to him.

‘It’s okay, you know,’ Harry said now, rather cryptically, as he took a sip of his champagne. ‘None of us mind. You don’t have to hide it anymore.’

Hermione shook her head in confusion, looking back over to Draco and Blaise, who were now gripping their own champagne glasses and - rather alarmingly - heading in Harry and Hermione’s direction. As they approached, Draco’s silver eyes shifted and met Hermione’s, and he gave her a lazy, sexy smirk. She gulped and tore her eyes away, not missing the fact that Blaise was also staring at her as if he could devour her on the spot.

‘What are you on about, Harry?’ Hermione asked with a voice that was rather higher-pitched than normal. She took an overlarge gulp of her champagne to compensate, nearly spluttering as it went down the wrong way. Harry didn’t seem to notice, nodding subtly in the direction of the approaching Slytherins instead. Well, if you could count classmates you’d graduated with five years ago now to still be defined by the house they were in.

‘Don’t make me say it, Hermione,’ Harry pleaded with a groan, his green eyes shifting from them to Hermione. ‘You know…’ he gave another, less subtle nod now, as Draco, Blaise and Pansy had joined them.

‘Potter,’ Draco greeted him shortly, before turning to Hermione. ‘Granger,’ he added in a distinctively softer voice, handing her a glass of champagne. Blaise shook Harry’s hand and leaned in to give Hermione a polite kiss on either cheek, engulfing her in the delicious scent of sandalwood as he did. Only Blaise and she could know that he lingered over the second kiss, his hand brushing against her waist at the same time.

‘What are we talking about?’ Pansy asked brightly, slipping an arm around Harry’s waist and leaning into his side. They’d been dating for just over a year now, the unlikely power couple, and Harry gave her a meaningful look.

‘Ooooh,’ Pansy said in understanding. ‘Has she finally admitted it then? I can’t get these two to open up in the slightest,’ she added, jerking her head towards Draco and Blaise, who were looking mildly bemused by the whole thing.

‘What are you on about, Parks?’ Draco asked, arching his eyebrow at her as he took a sip of champagne.

He leaned back against the table beside them, and Hermione tried really hard not to let her gaze drop down to his perfectly-fitted trousers, or linger over where she knew his divinely proportioned and epically talented cock was currently hidden away.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts - honestly, this champagne was making her less careful than usual - she made the mistake of looking at Blaise instead. He fixed her with a wicked grin, and licked his lips lasciviously in her direction. She felt heat rising in her cheeks as she was flooded with the sudden image of his beautiful body exposed and eager, laid out on a bed in front of her.

‘Oh, for Merlin’s sake,’ Pansy said impatiently, watching Hermione. ‘Granger, you’re about as subtle as a hippogriff in a potions shop.’

Hermione gave Pansy a frown, wondering what she meant.

‘You three,’ Harry said now, a touch slowly, as if addressing children. ‘We all know the three of you are dating.’

Dating?

Hermione looked at Harry incredulously as Blaise sputtered.

‘Wait, what?’ Blaise asked in bemusement, his gaze flitting from Hermione to Draco. ‘Dating?’

‘We’re not dating,’ Draco added, a frown appearing on his forehead.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ Hermione asked with a laugh.

As if she and the Slytherin sex gods would be dating.

Sure, Hermione thought to herself, maybe the three of them… dabbled in some physical experimentation now and then. She felt the heat in her cheeks rise even further at the flashback to their last rendezvous, when both of their dicks had been buried deep inside her and she’d practically been in tears from the intensity of the orgasms they had plied her with.

But dating? No.

Draco and Blaise were two of the most eligible Pureblood bachelors on the market. No way would they want to date an annoying Muggleborn know-it-all, no matter how great the sex might be.

Harry sighed now and rolled his eyes to the ceiling as if asking for strength. ‘Hermione, please, don’t deny it anymore,’ he said with a touch of exasperation, and before she could protest Pansy had interrupted.

‘Come on, Granger, you’re constantly undressing the pair of them with your eyes every time we’re together.’ Blaise sniggered at that, until Pansy turned on him with the ferocity of a blast-ended skrewt. ‘And as for you, Zabini, don’t think I haven’t noticed how you always wear that sandalwood cologne now, and I know it’s Hermione’s favourite one, she mentioned it at my birthday party.’ Pansy was on a roll, turning now to Draco, who watched her with the wary wide eyes of a man who had been on the receiving end of a Pansy rant before. ‘And you, Draco Malfoy,’ she hissed, and he held up his free hand in mock surrender. ‘I’ve seen you. You’re a gentleman but you also have very little respect for most people. Except these two,’ she nodded from Blaise to Hermione. ‘Any excuse to touch Blaise and you’re there. Any time we’re with Hermione, she never has to open a door or pull out a chair or refill a drink.’ Hermione guiltily clutched the stem of the champagne glass Draco had handed her only minutes before, sure that the blush must have reached even the tip of her ears by now. ‘We’ve known for months you’re all dating, and we’re all fine with it, so please can we end this charade once and for all.’

With that Pansy came to a halt, and Harry smiled at her and nuzzled her neck, whispering ‘brava’ to her just loud enough for the others to hear.

‘Pansy,’ Blaise tried again. ‘Honestly, we’re not dating!’

Hermione stared resolutely into her champagne, trying her best to stop tears welling in her eyes. Even if she knew why they could only ever be friends - well, friends with benefits - she didn’t know if she could take the hurt that would come with them explaining why she would never be good enough for them.

‘Blaise is right,’ Draco said, but there was a strange catch in his voice that Hermione couldn’t place at first. ‘As much as we might like to date Granger, she’s far too brilliant for two disgraced wizards who once found themselves on the wrong side of the war.’

Hermione looked up in shock, recognising the pain in his voice with the words he said. Blaise had moved closer to Draco, and now reached out to take his hand.

‘What?’ Hermione said, only managing a whisper. Blaise was watching her sadly, and finally Draco lifted his own gaze and gave her a small, resigned smile.

‘We knew what we were letting ourselves into, Granger,’ Blaise said now. ‘We decided even if we risked falling in love and having our hearts broken, we’d take whatever you were willing to give us.’

Hermione could hear a strange rushing noise in her ears, like a dam had broken.

‘You don’t - I mean, you want to date?’ She asked incredulously. ‘But I’m - I’m just - I’m a mug-’

‘You’re everything, Hermione,’ Draco said firmly, and she fell silent in surprise at the use of her given name.

‘You’re everything to us,’ Blaise added quietly.

Hermione looked at them both, trying to untangle the thoughts in her head.

‘You mean we could have been dating all this time…’ she said slowly. ‘But I thought I wasn’t the right kind of witch and you two thought you were the wrong kind of wizards?’

Draco and Blaise shared a slightly panicked look.

‘Erm,’ Blaise said, looking sheepish. ‘It appears that is a possibility.’

Pansy broke the moment by laughing, and Harry shook his head in exasperation. ‘You know, for three of the cleverest students in our year, you three are something else,’ he muttered.

Pansy was nodding in agreement, and she gave Harry a loud kiss on the cheek.

‘Come on, Potter,’ she said. ‘You can dance with me while these three idiots realise it was themselves they needed to admit the dating thing to.’

Pansy and Harry head off to the dance floor, and Hermione, Draco and Blaise stood together awkwardly.

‘So,’ Blaise said with false brightness. ‘Does this mean… are we dating now?’

Hermione shrugged, her mind still reeling from the revelations of the evening.

‘I suppose so,’ she said, and Draco tutted and waved his hand to wandlessly levitate all three of their champagne glasses. He took Hermione’s hand as well as Blaise’s in his own.

‘We can’t be dating until we’ve been on a date,’ Draco said sharply. Then his lips curled into a sweet, hopeful smile. ‘Are you both free tomorrow evening?’

Blaise gave Hermione a smile, reaching out to take Hermione’s other hand.

‘I am,’ he said easily, and Draco waited patiently for Hermione to answer.

She took a moment, wanting to remember it all. Finally holding their hands in public, not having to hide from their friends, realising she was enough - more than enough - for the two men she had accidentally fallen in love with.

Hermione took a deep breath and smiled.

‘Yes.’

[mystickitten42]

Wizard Hearts 2020 Survey

Between September 1 and December 31 I took part in the @gameofdrarry​ Wizard Hearts fic reading fest playing for Team Vanaheim. The four suits of cards (and an optional Smut suit) had a trope assigned to each card and the goal was to read and comment on fics we haven’t read before. We also had monthly team assignments (I’ve linked the Vanaheim team assignments here).

For this survey, we had the option to answer 13 of 18 questions. As this will be long, I’ll continue under the cut. 

But, before I get to the survey, I’d like to take the opportunity to thank the mods for all their hard work checking our comments and spreadsheets, keeping track of points, creating and checking our assignments, and answering all the questions asked on the Discord Server  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

1.What was the first fic you read for the game/fest? Why did you choose it? 

The Four Doors by fluxweed. This was a story I had planned to read for a while and was actually mid-story when I realised, ‘hey, this works for 5♦️ Memory Loss.’ This was such an interesting story (I highly recommend!) and I loved the Legilimency aspects of it as well as how the relationship between Harry and Draco developed. After the fact, I was kicking myself that I didn’t use this for Smut Suit Jack ‘Power Dynamics’ because this would have been perfect for that trope and I struggled to find another suitable fic for that trope.

2. What was the last fic you read for the game/fest? How did it feel reading 52+ fics?

Tell me the end at the beginning by harryromper. I’m a big fan of harryromper’s stories and am still making my way through their posted works, so of course I was thrilled to read this for A❤️ Healer!Draco. This story has an amazing Draco. He’s hot AF in his three-piece suits, swears in French, and the staff at St Mungo’s call him McFrosty. This was written for 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2018 and harryromper has just finished a new story for this year’s fest which I can’t wait to go and read.

I read the 52 card regular deck, the smut suit, as well as 16 Go Squid fics, so I read 81 fics in total for this fest. But I also read a lot more than that during the fest including fics that didn’t qualify for the cards or were non-Drarry (I went on a Jeddy, Scorbus and Charlie Weasley bender mid-fest). 

I’d say this fest made me seek out fics that I otherwise wouldn’t have found, and it’s definitely made me a better commenter. I wouldn’t say that I read any more than usual, but I did take notes while reading so I could leave a detailed comment at the end. One side-effect of this fest is that my MFL list has grown exponentially because I added everything from the Thrice Fic List, the remaining fics from the Go Squid List and anything interesting that I found while searching for fics to fit the tropes. 

3. What's a fic you think is a hidden gem and deserves more hype?

Stand Back: I’m About to Perform Archaeology by Blowfish_Diaries I can’t say enough good things about this fic. I couldn’t read it for the cards because I’d already read it and flailed in the comments so I rec’d it for Go Squid. It’s set during Eighth Year and has the perfect combination of humour, snark, banter, Harry and Draco bonding over Harry’s shitty childhood, drinking and party games, pining, and Hung!Harry. I read this more than six months ago and I still can’t stop thinking about it. Go and read it!

Passion Cake by ICMezzo This fic was both hilarious and beautifully written. I loved it so much I immediately wrote a rec for it. I adored Baker!Draco and his process for baking. I’m still cracking up at Harry almost serving a passion-inducing cake at Teddy’s birthday. 

Haunt the corner of my eye by harryromper. This was such a gorgeous read. I’ve read several other pieces by haryromper and just knew this would be amazing (and it was). I loved the way the story unraveled and I adore fics set inside Grimmauld Place.

4. What was your strategy for choosing fic/tropes for your reading list? Was there a fic/trope you found you simply couldn’t resist?

With a few exceptions, I started with the major cards so I’d always be able to contribute towards my team’s Royal Flush hand each week. Initially I tried to pick fics that were 50k+ and that qualified for the bonus box (Fest fic for ♣️, Multi-chap for ❤️, Before 2014 for ♦️). Eventually I had to lower the word count so I could finish the deck, but most fics I read were at least 10k+. I also tried to read something each of my teammates had written. 

I’d be hard-pressed to pick just one trope I couldn’t resist, but some of my faves included: Eighth Year, Bed Sharing, Roommates, Mutual Pining, Auror Partners.

5. Was there a trope that you’ve read a lot of previously that you found uniquely presented? 

Three Boxes and a Scrapbook by dracogotgame. I’ve read a fair number of bonding fics and the usual format is: Draco & Harry fighting, bonding incident, getting used to the bond, and resolution (whether that be severing the bond or living with it). I loved how dracogotgame mixed it up. We started with Harry and Draco getting divorced and Draco heading off to France. Then we see the after-effects of a year together and learn about the bond through flashbacks (many as part of the scrapbook photos). The story is so beautifully presented and I loved Bill’s presence in Harry’s life. 

6. What's a line from a fic that you can't stop thinking about?

There’s a passage from Writcraft’s Slice of Life that I can’t stop thinking about:

“Harry sometimes feels like those discarded jam tarts. The ones that nobody else wanted, not perfect enough to bring out in front of guests.”

This gets me every time. It’s such a perfect metaphor to describe Harry’s life at that time and it makes me tear up every time I think about it. Then the jam tarts are woven throughout the entire fic and it’s just perfect and gorgeous. I made a rec for this fic. 

Also, Harry’s love confession during Names and Dreams of Futures Past by KittyAug has stayed with me since I read the fic. I can’t stop thinking about it. The whole scene was so perfect and emotional. I don’t want to spoil it so I won’t carry on, but I do recommend it. 

8. Was there a trope you’ve never read or heard of before? What did you think?

OMG yes. Magic Healing Cock was a trope I’d never heard of and yet I could immediately think of the perfect fic for it, which unfortunately I had already read, To Be Out of Your Own (and consumed by another) by Cassiara. I ended up reading The Conquering of Harry Potter’s Virginity by FantasyFiend09 which was a fun story. Surprisingly, while reading for the other tropes, I encountered several more fics that could fill the Magic Healing Cock trope. I dunno, maybe I should make a rec list or something 🤣

9. Which trope did you read that pleasantly surprised you?

I was pleasantly surprised by Vampire!fic. I love vampire stories. I love Drarry (obviously). But I haven’t read much vampire Drarry. I read Midnight in the City of a Hundred Spires by Shiftylinguini and it was sooooo good. The way they characterised vampire!Draco felt so authentic and I loved the magical theory surrounding Harry and the consequences of him being a Horcrux for so many years. 

10. Is there a fic that made you laugh out loud?

Ad Pavonem by Lomonaaeren, which fittingly I read for Crack!fic. Harry as a peacock is hilarious and the whole story is so well written. I love it when an author treats crack seriously and really goes for it. I appreciated the way the story was told through both peacock-Harry’s POV (a perfect blend of animal instinct yet distinctly Harry)  and Draco’s POV (I adored his observations of the peculiar peacock and later his unique understanding of peacock-Harry). I made a rec for this here.

11. What is your favourite trope and why?

It’s really hard for me to pick just one, but if I had to choose I’d go with Hogwarts Eighth Year. I love it when barriers are broken down through party games and inter-house unity, and of course I adore roommates and bedsharing. Insert humour, snark and banter, plus magical theory and I’m all in. I think at least 11 of the fics I read for the fest were set in Eighth Year.

12. Which tropes did you skip? Would you be willing to share why? If you didn’t skip a trope, was there one that gave you pause? 

I considered using a wildcard in place of Smut Suit Jack: Power Dynamics. One of the things I really love about Drarry is how evenly matched they are, like the opposite sides of a coin: light and dark, magically powerful and wild vs controlled and precise. They’ve both caused each other pain and both have things to apologise for. So a power imbalance takes away what I love about Drarry and it sort of rubs me the wrong way. Balance, Imperfect by bixgirl1 would have been a perfect fit for this trope and explores the power imbalance within a Healer/Patient relationship beautifully and with sensitivity, but I’d already read it and commented. I ended up reading Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael, which I found through sitp’s awesome rec lists, and I did enjoy reading it. 

15. Which suit did you have the most fun reading? Why?

I enjoyed all the suits. But, if I had to pick one, I’d have to go with hearts. There are so many tropes I love in that suit including Room of Requirement, Grimmauld Place, Powerful!Harry, Crack!fic, Established Relationship, Veela, and Dragons. There were so many fics I wanted to read (and added many to my MFL list) but I tried to choose those which were multi-chaptered for the bonus point.

18. Do you have any feedback for the mods of the game/fest? Would you be interested in playing again if the opportunity arose? Share more info about your experience. 

Overall I really enjoyed the fest. One complaint would be that the bonus box for Spades was “not on AO3” and I refuse to read stuff not on AO3 because: 1) I don’t want to have to create an account anywhere else, and 2) I really like the formatting (especially for mobile viewing) and tagging way better on AO3. So I would prefer if there was a different bonus option next time, but of course that’s up to you.

I really enjoyed the team activities, but it was a struggle to fit them in with all the reading, commenting and getting my own writing done. Maybe we could do with one or two less next time?

I would definitely play again, but not necessarily next year. This was a big game to play and I didn’t sign up for Fan Fair commenting because it would have felt like too much (of course I realise now I could have possibly double-dipped and used my comment for both fests). So I may play again if it’s offered next year, but I also may sit a year out. I’ll have to see where I’m at closer to September. But I would be intrigued if the tropes were mixed up a bit. I don’t mind repeats but maybe swap some out. It seemed a bit repetitive to have both Soulmates and Soulmarks, and there’s already an element of Power Dynamics with BDSM and A/B/O. I’d love to see Polyamorous Sex, Legilimency, Wandlore, Sentient Houses, Curse-Breakers (or Unspeakables).

[pjstafford]

A Look at my 2020

The end of the year is upon us. It’s been a tough one for all of us. It is a year we will all remember forever. I want to do a positive reflection of this year. I will probably write a blog about what I hope our country’s New Years Resolutions should be. The thoughts on that have been rolling around my head for a few days. But today, December 16, at 4:30 a.m. and unable to sleep, that 2020 familiar dread of what will happen today waking me early, I want to look at some positives. I want to unwrap the positives of 2020 like a Christmas gift before Christmas so that I can wrap myself in them as a blanket of warmth. One thing that I have been truly impressed with is the resilience of the human spirit. Let’s call this a resilience exercise.

Counting my blessings one by one...

1. I am alive. Surviving is a cause for celebration. As far as I know I have been COVID free...although there were a few days in April or early May when I was sick with something and in Feb I had the strangest cold in my life and this time last year weeks of fatigue ended in frozen shoulder syndrome on Christmas Eve. See, I want to be thankful, but I don’t want to be naive in my retrospection. Best to be honest. I’m not sure if I had COVID or not, but if I did I survived with relatively minor symptoms. Every cough or sniffle I feared in a completely irrational way was COVID. There was the week I walked around sniffing everything to make sure I could still smell. It dawns on me it is going to be difficult to write a honest and, yet, positive, retrospective of 2020. I am alive, but I have never been less healthy. I’ve gained weight. I haven’t had the physical exercise to which I am accustomed and now when I try to take a long walk I realize my stamina is gone. It will take years of concentrated effort once things are “back to normal” for me to become normal again. It wasn’t that I didn’t try. I did yoga daily in the Spring and switched to an online Tai chi class in the summer, but I don’t live near beauty or anything interesting so wasn’t motivated to walk and just my everyday life of lockdown in a studio apartment meant less movement. All of which sounds even to me like not very good justification. Did I mention though that I survived. I am alive. I will take that as blessing number one.

2. No one I care about very deeply has died or even been seriously ill from COVID. Doesn’t March 2020 seem far away? I don’t want to be dismissive of 300;000 dead especially with more to come. I or someone I love could still be gone by New Years Day. But in March and April we held our breaths for an apocalypse and at some point most of us decided to take a breath. I don’t know really if it’s good or bad that we have simply adjusted our normal and the number deaths we are willing to accept. It’s bad, what am I saying? It’s bad. But how long can we wait in fear? So I don’t know, but I want to count as a blessing that those I love have all survived to date. I cannot vanquish the fear, but I can be grateful for survival.

3. I have maintained employment in a bad economy and have mostly been able to work from home. There have been some struggles. Sometimes the work I do is depressing. Sometimes I feel I don’t make a difference. There has never been a worse time to be an advocate...or a person with disability, or a caregiver, or a provider agency, or a health care professional. I have maintained employment.

4. I count among my blessings the fact that I had a wonderful 2020 before....remember there was a 2020 before. I love when my work takes me to Santa Fe for a prolonged time. A friend came out in Feb for a wonderful weekend. Another friend came to Albuquerque to see me for my birthday in early March. I remember thinking how social I was in those first ten weeks in 2020. It’s as if I somehow knew....it sustained me.

5. I count among my blessings that when I felt my mental health despair getting at its worse...the strain of living alone in a studio apartment, working from that same apartment and following the Governor orders not to go or do anything. ..that I had friends and two weekends of “risky” behavior; a friend who came for the Fourth of July holiday and an out of state trip to Durango in late September. I’m fortunate that when I had to have human contact my closest friends were there for me

6. I count as my blessings that Biden won the election. It’s not simply a matter of politics. I’m not sure if the last eight months of the Trump Presidency wasn’t worse for my morale than the pandemic because Trump kind of lost whatever semblance of sanity he had. Part of the trepeditation over what each new day will bring is what Trump will say, do, tweet, exacerbate. I still fear revolution in the street before Jan 20. The pandemic is not the worse of what America has gone through. That’s the oddest thing about this year.

7. Here is the blessing which probably will be unpopular. The lockdown and stress of all we have experienced is tough, but the slowdown is a blessing for me. My life had gotten pretty busy. While I miss travel, it’s ok for a year not to have had the time suck that travel for work entails. I will be so happy the first work trip I get to go on, but I feel like 2020 has given me the gift of time. It’s odd because, like many, my creative sense has suffered. I have written almost nothing. Still, I often think of a Dylan lyric, maybe in the next life I will be able to hear myself think. I could hear myself think this year. Unfortunately I thought about the existentialist angst of the meaning of life and my failures as a human being and I don’t think there is enough time still to process the effects of the pandemic and I’m sick to death of the sound of my thoughts, but....I have been given this unique gift of time. Even on December 16th I am not rushed to shop, to cook, to decorate, to go to a zillion parties. It’s a different year. The Holiday will still come. It is pleasant not to feel urgency over, let’s face it, non-urgent things. I am mentally and emotionally fatigued, but not nearly as physically exhausted as I was this time last year

8. The next one is a big one. The gift of living in the moment. I have spent my entire life since 7th grade when Miss O’Neil gave me a copy of The Rubyait of Omar Khayyam trying to live with the philosophy of living for the now. Clear the cups of past regrets...tomorrow, why I may be myself with yesterday’s seven thousand years. The only time I have ever truly experience this is in a handful of concert experience. Even now, I fear for my future and I blame myself for my mistakes. Still, my relationship with time has changed. There is the sun rising and setting and that is a day. Seasons will change. But the gift of time means I can approach my day differently. When five o clock comes on a workday, a needed nap is a step away. No where to go on a Friday night... no where I can go...means the weekend rhythm exists only as I define it. The simple pleasures we always take for granted mean something more now. There is a coffee truck that stops near me on Fridays and Saturdays. When it first started stopping I was over the moon that I could walk and get a latte with fairly little risk. If I go to the grocery store and have a conversation with a stranger, it is different than it was before. Mindfulness exercise and meditation is one thing, but nothing can compare with this year to further my lessons in this pursuit. May I take the lesson with me into years to come.

9. Zoom...yes, of course I have zoom fatigue. But five friends in five different states having a monthly drink together on zoom is a benefit of the pandemic. I watched a movie this year with someone who lives in Brazil. I celebrated a friend’s sixtieth person even though I couldn’t be with her. I’ve attended book discussions and readings in New York and I already have tickets to an event in March. Kind of love New York. I’ve never been there in person. Just a lot happens there. Educationally and socially the world is now open to me. I am not limited to what is going on in my community. I hope this doesn’t completely go away.

10. Finally, storytelling and music. I found it hard to read new things in the lockdown for a while, but in March friends asked me to a virtual book club of three books I already read and we reread them together which took us into the summer. I rediscovered the Foundation series of Asimov and suddenly I could read again! My favorite book I’ve read published in 2020 is Jess Walter’s The Cold Million. I did read a digital advance copy of David Duchovny’snew book due out in 2021 and it is, in fact, the breakout novel I knew this hot young writer would eventually write. Looking forward to 2021 book club! I finally binged Breaking Bad and The Travelers as well as The Queens gambit and watched Peanut Butter Falcon. I am doing a disability focused watch on the X Files and I better kick it it the rear because I’m presenting on it in Feb. at a conference. My God, Dylan put out his first original music in eight years. It will take me eight years to fully ingest it and enjoy it. You see, no matter what happens, humanity will tell its stories and gather to make its songs. It’s that human resilience. Creation of art is not trivial. It’s vital. It has continued in this odd and strange year. It is humanity’s greatest gift and I have definitely used it this year as a resilience and growth tool.

Those are my top blessings in this horrific and, yet, wondrous year. However, you have been impacted, what we all share in common is that In a very short time it will be a memory of a year in the past.

[miracleboiz]

Making A Home Ch.24.5

Kita Shinsuke  had experienced a lot in life. He had been raised with his  grandmother, a loving foster parent and for some time he followed in her  foot steps before finding his own path. He thought his foster care  license had expired before getting a call at three am with two small  boys thrust into his arms. Miya Osamu and Atsumu, from broken homes but  still fighting. Thirty days before his license expires. Thirty days to  make a choice, keep the boys or let them be separated into different  homes. Thirty days to fall in love with them.

Words: 100k+

Relationships: Ojiro Aran/Kita Shinsuke, Gen

Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, non-graphic abuse

Not from Kita, but it is mentioned. I will post any warnings before any panic attacks or vague descriptions of abuse.

Read below or on AO3

“Promise me you’ll never celebrate my birthday.” Shinsuke’s dry voice made Aran laugh as he looked around the room. It was covered from the ceiling to the wood flooring with streamers and balloons, wrapping paper was gliding happily over the floor every time one of the kids ran past. Lady was happily on the tile of the kitchen floor, accepting attention from everyone who passed and licking the ankles of every child.

They had all invaded Shinsuke’s home as soon as the birthday party had been confirmed and Friday came. It wasn’t just the kids either, everyone in the shop and the Matsukawa’s had insisted on coming as well, not even mentioning Oomimi and Akagi.

“Can’t promise that… But I’ll make it a lot smaller.” Aran said back, leaning a little more comfortably against the wall. Hitoshi took off suddenly, Osamu hot on his tail, only to yelp as he slipped on wrapping paper. Aran and Shinsuke both jolted forward only to relax again as Hajime caught the child without even looking, lifting Hitoshi up with one arm and swinging him in between himself and Asahi so Osamu wouldn’t slam into him.

“Boys! What did we say about running?” Tooru’s voice called from where he was being held down for Shirofuki’s lesson to Rintaro and Akira about how to match clothes together. “Pick up the wrapping paper at the very least, thank you.”

Hitoshi and Osamu both looked appropriately admonished, especially Hitoshi who was still clinging to Hajime’s arm from his fall. Osamu turned back to start picking up the wrapping paper, then he paused.

“Oh there it goes.” Shinsuke sighed, voice incredibly fond. “Cain instinct.”

“The what-” Aran turned to ask only to look back at the sound of loud crackling and saw Osamu crunching the wrapping paper into small balls and chucking them at his brother’s back. “Ah.”

Atsumu squealed, diving behind Shigeru for protection, glowering at his brother. It was only for a few more seconds before Atsumu was moving to tackle his brother, trying to shove the wrapping paper into his shirt and both of them scrambled for each piece to attack each other with. Hitoshi just watched in absolute fascination, not even noticing when he was released from Hajime’s hold.

“They’ve calmed down a lot since they went out with you on Tuesday.” Shinsuke commented, carefully sneaking a glance over at Aran. Almost immediately Aran’s face shifted with guilt, and Shinsuke told his anxiety to quiet itself.

“And I know Atsumu told Osamu a secret the next morning and ever since then, they haven’t been worried about anything.” Shinsuke continued, moving his gaze back to the boys and Shinji trying to wriggle his way in between them despite Rintaro’s calls for them to keep fighting. Shinji was currently just trying to hug them into submission and it was, amusingly, seemingly working.

“Ah…” Aran sighed, breathing in slowly and letting it out again. “I’d apologize but I’m not sorry…”

Aran straightened his back as he turned to look at Shinsuke, brown eyes filled with so much more emotion then they had any right to be. Shinsuke tilted his head up, waiting patiently for him to continue. There was no point in speculating, if Aran had ever been in the habit of lying Shinsuke would have never been his friend much less fallen in love with him.

“I told Atsumu that if you didn’t want to adopt him and Osamu that I would. I’m assuming that’s what he told Osamu about.” Aran said, though the guilt lingered at the corner of his downturned mouth his eyes were bright with a resolute will.

Shinsuke didn’t say anything for a moment, wondering if it was the wrong moment to kiss Aran. Probably. The urge still lingered, however.

“Was there a particular reason? Or did you just want it to be known?” Shinsuke kept his voice neutral, watching the flicker of recognition in Aran’s eyes. He wasn’t upset, he wasn’t blaming Aran or angry he told them, but he was curious. Aran wasn’t the type to just tell people how he felt, he preferred to show it until he had no other choice.

“You weren’t certain if you could handle the boys even though you wanted them, and Asumu was panicking about being sent away. So I told him the truth, if for any reason you couldn’t or wouldn’t adopt them, they weren’t going to be sent away. I’d adopt them.”

“Ah, I should have guessed that… I’m going to ask them, after the party, if they’d like to stay with me. I don’t want them to stress about it right now, let them have their fun. But I’ve changed quite a few things the last few days, and I’ve been better for it, better for them.” Shinsuke informed him, heart turning to liquid at the same time it started to beat rapidly at the sweet affection on Aran’s face. His warm brown eyes softened as the guilt finally dripped from his lips and he was smiling so soft and small that Shinsuke wanted to kiss him to make it bigger.

“I noticed. I’m proud of you.” Aran murmured softly and Shinsuke hummed in response, not fully trusting himself to speak. “When I came home, you were on edge like you were waiting for a giant shoe to finally fall and crush you. Now… You’ve smiled six times in the last hour and honestly I think it’s a world record, has Akagi given you your award yet?”

Shinsuke shoved him away, rolling his eyes at the tease. Aran took a step back graciously, laughing heartily and drawing the attention of Osamu and Atsumu. They paused in their mutual shirt stuffing of the wrapping paper into a wriggling Shinji’s shirt, glancing at each other and then the adults as if thinking they caused it. Staring at the two, Atsumu shoved two wrapping paper balls in Shinji’s shirt again, making him squeal at the cold material and swat at both of them.

“Atsumu, don’t kill your friend.” Shinsuke said but he couldn’t stop his own chuckle, laughing a little harder when they both responded by covering Shinji with more wrapping paper. Much more and Shinji would be buried beneath a mountain, but he didn’t seem particularly distressed.

“You should go get your kids under control.” Aran chuckled and Shinsuke stepped forward only to toss an innocent look over his shoulder.

“I’ll get them if you can clean up our kids mess.” Shinsuke said easily, turning away and moving to hustle the boys off of each other as Aran seemed to break down behind him.

“Shinsuke.” Aran whined, only managing to move forward as Shinsuke removed his twins from Shinji’s new grave and shooed them off to join Takahiro and Hitoshi for more cake.

“Atsumu~ How’s your first birthday party?” Shinji asked, sitting comfortably on Takahiro’s lap as wrapping paper pieces were tugged off of him from where the tape had stuck.

Atsumu wasn’t quite sure how to say he’d literally never been more excited in his life so he just grinned and hugged the stuffed cat he’d gotten from Akira tightly to his chest. He looked up as a hand descended into his hair for a moment, watching Shinsuke continue on his path to the kitchen to help Oomimi with dishes.

He didn’t know what changed, not really, but Shinsuke was a lot more like he had been when they first met. Honest and firm, but kind and gentle. He didn’t seem so stressed anymore and Atsumu was pretty sure it was because of Aran, no matter what Aran said Atsumu knew they had to be married at this point. If his husband was in France for years, he’d be really tired and sad like Shinsuke had been the week before. But now he was okay and happy again!

Fear and apprehension still bubbled in his stomach, knowing that Shinsuke still might not want them… But if he was really married to Aran and Aran said he loved Atsumu and Osamu, then Shinsuke probably did too.

Or at least that’s what his six year old mind told him to keep him from feeling like he was going to start crying when he thought of Shinsuke trying to give them away again.

“I really like my presents! I didn’t know you got cool things for bein’ born.” He said when Shinji started to wriggle impatiently. “Like my new kitty!”

“Princess!” Akira chirped, hands waving at the toy he’d picked out for Atsumu that did indeed look like the Matsukawa family cat.

“Yes sweetie, you can see Princess later, you wanted Atsumu to keep the small Princess remember?” Tooru said from where he was holding Akira hostage behind them on the couch. He and Takahiro had been chosen to watch the kids while the remaining adults cleaned up the mess caused by half a dozen six year olds and an overly excited Akira who believed in destruction.

“Boo.” Akira huffed, turning and waving his hands at Osamu this time. “Oniisan. Oniisan.”

He chanted, shoving Shigeru’s face with a whine when Shigeru tried to grab him. He flapped his hands at Osamu again, even more aggressively.

“Oniisan.” He said, turning to stare at his dad before pointing at Osamu. “Oniisan.”

“Well that’s rude.” Shigeru huffed, ignoring his father’s amused smile as Akira was lowered to the ground and allowed to waddle over to Osamu until he could face plant onto his lap and close his eyes for a nap. Shigeru gave him a few seconds of peace before he flopped onto his side and laid his head on Akira’s back.

“That’s rude.” Shinji giggled, leaning back against Takahiro as Hitoshi tried to push Rintaro down to get his own spot to nap.

“I’m not a pillow.” Rintaro insisted, swatting the hands coming at his face with a whine.

“Rin-kun, I’m tired.” Hitoshi insisted. “Why can Shigeru nap but you’re just mean to me? You let him nap on you on the way over, do you like him more than me?”

“What? No, of course no- ah!” Rintaro froze at the accusation and Hitoshi immediately used it to shove him over and flop over his stomach. “You’re a bully, Hitoshi-kun. You can fight your own fights now.”

“Mmmnope.” Hitoshi yawned, blinking like a happy cat to Atsumu. “Wait, everyone gets to snuggle ‘cept ‘Tsum.”

The younger child was starting to sit up, looking genuinely worried as Atsumu waved the cat toy.

“No, I have Princess-” He fell backwards as something dove into him and the rest of the group burst into giggles at the sight of Shinji giving Atsumu one of his infamous hugs. “I have Shinji too.”

“Your kids are mean.” Takahiro told Tooru, looking down at his now empty lap. Tooru just laughed, waving him over and tugging him onto the couch with him.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing. Also that you forgot to tell us you adopted Osamu.”

“Oh no, that was fully Akira, he signed the birthday card himself to make it official.” Takahiro hummed, leaning in to rub their noses together as a chorus of ‘ew’s rose up from the kids. “Oh hush or you’re not getting anymore goodnight kisses from me.”

Shigeru and Shinji instantly clamped their hands around their own mouths, leaving Akira to mumble in his sleep as Osamu awkwardly tried to pet his hair like Shinsuke did for him.

“I want a goodnight kiss! That would be the best birthday gift.” Atsumu gasped, blinking at the two adults as they seemed to wince. “What is it-”

A loud squeal erupted from him as two wet kisses were smushed into his cheeks on either side from the eldest Matsukawa boys. Atsumu giggled, not able to hear what Tooru and Takahiro were saying before they were laughing.

“Me next!” Hitoshi gasped, sitting up and elbowing Rintaro in his haste.

“No! I don’t want kisses-”

“Rin-kun wants kisses too! It’s night time, all the good night kisses!” Hitoshi insisted, loud shrieks of laughter erupting from the group as Shigeru and Shinji dragged Atsumu over to help hold Rintaro down despite his half-hearted whines.

“Okay… I’ll claim that habit, that was me.” Takahiro hummed, pressing a kiss to his partner’s forehead as they watched to make sure no one pushed anyone too far even for affection.

“I think the best birthday present would be parents.” Osamu said, rather lost in thought as his hand patted up and down on Akira’s head. Takahiro shot a pointed glance at Tooru, grumbling when he got a gentle nuzzle to his cheek instead.

“Just be patient, Osamu, I don’t think you have to wait for that much longer.” Tooru said, watching the child’s eyes slide over them to the kitchen. A wide smile started to spread over his face and he looked back to Tooru.

“I think so too!” He chirped, returning to his rhythmic patting of Akira’s head. “Aran and Shinsuke-san just need to walk, ice skating is really hard after all!”

Aran didn’t lift the arm from his eyes as a weight settled beside him.

“Didja finally manage to wrangle him in?” Aran asked, tucking the passed out Atsumu more comfortably against his chest.

“Passed out as soon as I picked him up, Lady helped.” Shinsuke’s voice came from his side before his head was settling onto Aran’s shoulder.

The volleyball player let his arm drop, wrapping it around Shinsuke’s shoulders and gently stroking over Osamu’s hair as the child snuffled in his sleep. Shinsuke yawned, eyes half shut as he tilted his head up to blink prettily up at Aran.

“... I’m glad I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.” Is all he said and Aran snorted, amused at the bright silver eyes taking him in. “What’re you doin’ tomorrow?”

“Mm, not much, it’s my day off too. I was going to let Lady go to the park with me, but that’s all… But I’m open for whatever you want.”

“I could be asking for you to be a nude model.” Shinsuke pointed out and Aran had to stifle another laugh to keep from waking up the boys.

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on keeping the boys entertained during that?”

“... You make a good point… When were you planning on taking Lady out?” Shinsuke said, glancing over at the patter of paws as Lady moved over to sniff at them after hearing her name so much. She sniffled at Atsumu’s feet before sliding down to relax against the bottom of the couch.

“Mm, about seven or eight… When do the boys get up?” Aran tilted his head until he could just barely nose at Shinsuke’s hair and Shinsuke shifted even closer. He pressed a kiss there instead, too tired to care about pretending when Shinsuke didn’t care.

“Sevenish, though they may sleep in a little…. Mind if we tag along?”

Aran didn’t bother to tell him that he’d do anything to spend the day with the boys. He just pressed another kiss to his head and hummed in agreement.

“I should get going… Otherwise I’m going to fall asleep on the way home.” Aran sighed, already shifting to get up when an arm wrapped around him.

“Aran. We’re adults. You can sleep in the bed with me…” They both glanced at Atsumu’s loud whine at being shifted before he managed to wrap his arms fully around Aran’s neck. “Mmmkay, sleep in the bed with the three of us.”

Shinsuke didn’t bother to hide his lap, eyes half shut as his arm released Aran to pat at the bottom of the couch until Lady licked his hand.

“Four of us.” He amended and Aran chuckled.

“Do I need to carry the four of you to bed then?”

“Mmhmm… Soon, I would hope, otherwise I’m blaming you for my back pain.” Shinsuke mumbled, mechanically stroking Lady’s fur.

“And mine? For carrying you?”

“Mmm… ask me again in a month. When we’ve had the kids for a bit, might be ready to kiss you then… I think I just need a month… Adjust ‘n everythin’.” Shinsuke said into Aran’s shoulder as he tried to hold him again when Aran started to move.

“... I’ll give you eternity either way.” Aran murmured into his hair, pressing a final kiss there before pulling Atsumu free from his neck. It took some coaxing to get him to hold onto the pillow instead, but eventually Aran was able to get him off and slip Osamu from Shinsuke. He took hold of Atsumu again, wincing as his beard was grabbed.

The trip was fast, Lady trotting after them to jump onto the bed and curl around the twins. Then Aran was back, slipping his arms around Shinsuke’s back and under his legs before lifting. Shinsuke nuzzled into the hold, another yawn dragging one from Aran.

“Remind me… to ask the boys tomorrow… Got t’busy tonight… Not putting it off… just tired.” Shinsuke mumbled into his neck, clearly letting go of everything, even his own discipline to leave Aran in charge.

“I will. Now go ahead and sleep.” Aran murmured, carrying him to the bed and barely managing to crawl in himself and tuck the blankets up when the twins were moving. They seemed only awake enough to move toward the closest heat source, scrambling over Shinsuke until they were half laid across both of the adults.

Aran hummed and closed his eyes, letting the boys get settled without another thought.

[eldritchsurveys]

889.

5k Survey XVI

751. What causes you to panic? >> Emotional flashbacks, usually. 752. Do you believe that you have a strong personality? >> I don’t know if I have a strong personality. I think sometimes my particular flavour of... self... or whatever can be a little much for some people, especially people used to a more fawning and socially-acceptable attitude. So if that’s what that means, then sure. If it means something else, you’ll have to be clearer. 753. When Jesus saves souls…does he trade them in for valuable prizes? >> Ha! 754. What resolutions would you make if it were new years? >> I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions. 755. Why wait? >> Right? (I mean, I get the “fresh new notebook” kind of feel of a new year. I do. But I just... find that locking myself into only starting a new venture when the year is new is a guarantee for failure.)

756. Do you feel like time is on your side or working against you? >> Time is indifferent towards me. 757. What do you do for yourself when you are down to put a little joy back into your life? >> I don’t, really. I’m prone to depressive spirals. It’s usually Can Calah that pretty much nags me out of it, when he can. 758. How much Tolkien have you read? >> I read The Silmarillion (and it’s at the top of my to-reread list right now, since it’s thankfully on Scribd) and I read like one-eighth of LOTR before I got mired in the Tom Bombadil stuff and lost interest. 759. These are the songs on the radio. Which are you most likely to listen to: Time Bomb by Rancid Dead Man’s party by Oingo Boingo The Sun Always Shines on TV by A-ha 50 Ways to leave Your Lover by Paul Simon Run by collective Soul  >> Run is an okay song, and I know it, so that. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard any of these other songs, and I don’t know if I would like them. 760. Do you believe that Jesus existed as a real person? >> I like the theory that he’s an aggregate of a few people, like a mythic hero. That just seems most likely to me, particularly considering the fact that the Bible as we know it is just a bunch of things written by a bunch of different people and rewritten and bound together for convenience later on. 761. Do you believe he was the son of god? >> I mean, I don’t have any specific beliefs about him, since I’m not a part of that faith. I’ve always liked stories about half-god/half-man beings, though, I think that kind of experience is interesting to read about. (I guess I would, wouldn’t I. *snort*) 762. How do you feel about organized religion? >> Obviously, I’m very interested in it in its myriad forms. I just haven’t adopted any as my own. 763. What sentence have you heard lately, that would sound pretty odd out of context? >> I’m sure there are a lot of sentences like that, but I can’t think of one right now. 763. If you had to choose one image to be a symbol of our times, what would you pick? >> I wouldn’t. 764. Name a group of people: >> A kindergarten. 765. How many of them does it take to screw in a light bulb? >> Okay, I didn’t know what the next question was going to be, but this has created a hilarious image in my head.

766. Do you like the movie The Labyrinth with David Bowie and some Muppets? >> I love that movie, are you kidding?? I would watch it again right now if I could. 767. Do you like the movie The Dark Crystal? >> I do, it was lovely. 768. Metallica or Guns N’ Roses? >> I like both of them pretty equally. 769. Do you follow the Chinese zodiac? >> No. 770. Do you like reggae music? >> I’ll listen to it if it’s playing. It’s not something that I have in my Spotify rotation, though. Well, except for Skindred, who do ragga metal, which is a hybrid that includes reggae. 771. What makes your life worth it every day? >> --- 772. Do you seize each day and sink your teeth into it? >> Don’t be absurd. 773. I’ve heard people say that Jim Morrison never yawned because he was just so full of life. How often do you yawn? >> I think Jim Morrison was my first favourite mythic hero, lol. This is such a funny thing to say about a person. Anyway, I don’t know how often I yawn. The normal amount? Maybe? Whatever. 774. Who decides what behavior is ‘crazy’ or 'sane’? >> You know. People. 775. Who are the most inspiring artists, musicians, poets, and writers? >> --- 776. Did anything historically significant happen in the year you were born? >> I’m sure; historically significant things happen all the time (especially within the past century or so). Go check out the Wikipedia page for 1987 if you’re that curious. 777. Besides blowing out birthday candles when do you make wishes? >> I don’t make wishes, period. 778. Are you self-sufficient? >> Not particularly. 779. Is it better to be wanted or needed? >> I don’t know, man, you’re asking the wrong person. 780. What do you feel is an appropriate age to lose one’s virginity at? >> I don’t care. 781. Do you feel that the appropriate age for girls and for boys is different? >> Definitely don’t care. 782. Are you a hard person to get to know? >> I feel like I must be. 783. What is the craziest thing you have ever done out of anger? >> I used to break things, which isn’t so crazy in itself, but most often the thing I would break would actually be something I liked. Like how I threw my CD player and broke it that one time (probably more than once, actually). I think it was some form of self-sabotage or self-punishment, because, you know. Emotional neglect and abuse, yay. 784. What’s the MOST annoying sound you can think of? >> I can’t think of a sound that isn’t annoying right now, so. 785. What’s the silliest vegetable you can think of? >> What. 786. Do you believe in love at first sight? >> I don’t care. If someone says that’s what happened to them, then I’m certainly not going to pretend I know their own experience better than they do, that’s for sure. 787. Name one thing you have referred to in the past as “better than sex”: >> I made shirts that said “[musician’s name] is better than sex” when I was in my early 20s, lol. Wore one to a concert and the named musician said it was beautiful. :p 788. What do you see when you turn out the light? >> Depends on how dark it is, innit. 789. Do you like jazz, blues and/or swing music? >> Not especially. I like jazz in certain situations -- like if I’m in New Orleans, I expect to hear jazz everywhere, and it fits the vibe of where I am. It’s environmentally appropriate. Blues... I don’t know. I haven’t heard enough blues songs to have found ones I like.  790. Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? >> Gold. 791. In what ways do you want your children to be like you? >> --- 792. In what ways would you want your children to be different from you? >> --- 793. What was the scariest movie you’ve ever seen? >> I don’t know. 794. What was the funniest movie you’ve ever seen? >> I don’t know. 795. What was the worst movie you’ve ever seen? >> --- 796. Are you a good massage-giver? >> No, because I have no experience giving massages and I wouldn’t want to anyway. 797. What is one question that no one can ever truthfully answer 'yes’ to? >> “Does human consciousness persist after the body dies?” I guess. Although many people certainly say “yes” all the time as if they have any more knowledge than the rest of us, lmao. 798. Is there more to this world than human beings can perceive? >> Well, sure. Our senses are limited, that’s just a fact. 799. If matter is neither created nor destroyed then is it possible that you are made up of molecules that once made up Ghandi or Jesus or Einstein? >> Well, yeah, that’s pretty much what I figured. “We are all star stuff” and that sort of thing. 800. Are you often sarcastic? >> Not often.

[schroedingersk8]

15. Let Me Draw You A Pie Chart

Or  Why I Refuse To Date For Free. 

I have written this post as a personal opinion, but I think it would be of tremendous use to my fellow Dommes and International Women of Mystery, as a read and perhaps a thought experiment, too. If you have any questions, please contact me via K8Morgan.com

I have woken up today, and have decided to dedicate my inaugural 2020 dating blog post to what is bound to become a very a prickly subject -- remunerated dating. Thing is, that yesterday, before going to bed, I have posted a three-line response to an anonymous question, and woke up to an anonymous answer in a scandalised line of “how dare I?” :)

And I laughed to myself, but also thought that, in this day and age of #mansplaining and with my work as a Dominatrix shrouded in all kinds of myths, maybe I ought to do a bit of #dommesplaining (I am very proud of this hashtag, btw!) and show exactly how, and why I dare. So, my dear, let me draw you a pie chart: 

This is my pie chart of life. 

Are you with me so far? Am I condescending enough? 

You can read it as a day, month, year, etc -- this is an entire life-flow, and I have organised it, for myself, in in the following manner:

There is “Me time” -- a pleasant tea on a sunny bar terrace, a visit to a SPA, upkeeping my good looks -- manicures, haircuts, meditation, just 20 minutes of quiet nothingness to myself. Then there are “Vanilla Life Obligations”-- doing a food shop, waiting for deliveries, arranging household needs, plumbers, boiler revisions, own health check up, cat health check ups, getting paperwork done, etc. Then we come to “Active Hobbies and Social Obligations” -- things I enjoy doing outside of the house -- maybe an opera visit, a museum stroll, a theatre performance, a gallery opening, gym, walk in the park, an excursion, a friend’s birthday party, or crisis counselling, or just a few beers with gossip et al. We also have “Passive Indoor Hobbies” -- things I usually do in the comfort of my own home -- reading classics by the fireplace, covered in Feline Overlords, watching some telly, taking a bath...you get the drift. And then, there is “WORK”. Want to venture a guess and pick which one is which? 

How well did you do? It is, of course, a very rough estimate. But this is how I have arranged my life. 

As you notice, there is no pie slice for “romantic relationship” because for me it is not a necessity. I am very happy with my current life, and 2020 will mark 9 years of me being “emotionally single” and “self-partnered”. Would it be nice to have a relationship? Maybe. But at this point it will be coming at the cost of other things. And I am not willing to surrender those things. Should I skip a visit to El Prado because you want your knob polished for free? Should I stop seeing my friends and family, who have been with me for years, because your ego needs continuous attention for the following 3 weeks, every time you come home from work? Should I banish my cats to an animal shelter because your balls need free shining? No? Then the only thing that has to give is my work time allocation.

“Pah, you dedicate too much time to work!” -- I hear you scoff. Now, have you met many self-employed/entrepreneurial people? Do they spend 30 min a day, only, on their projects? Let me remind you that DOMMEWORK IS WORK. S#X WORK IS WORK. If I were doing a PhD, would you whinge about my time allocation to studying? 

My work is something that brings me joy, my work is something that I find challenging, stimulating and fun. My work is something that pays my bills. All those things are already more than what I can say about your contribution to my life so far. 

And, as any work, it gets even more detailed:

I do not know if you can see it well in the picture, but my work currently consists of seven parts:

Research and Development -- studying marketing and pricing trends, consumer behaviour, strategies, new BDSM fabs, new media tendencies.

Implementation -- with the results of research and development in mind, making website updates, skill updates, new inventory and alike.

Analytics -- establishing what worked, what worked best, and what did not work at all, and changing things accordingly.

Work Admin -- reading and answering all your emails and inquiries, about sessions, pricing, availability, and about chances to date me for free.

Business Admin -- taxes, forms, rebates, etc etc etc.

Social Media Maintenance -- social media is the pipeline from where I get my clients, and no maintenance = no new clients.

Actual Sessions or Tours -- the time actually spent in sessions or preparing for sessions.

This, above, is a VERY rough estimate of what currently goes into my work. This does not even include the work I do for my fan sites. This is just the most basic task allocation in the most basic idea that you might have of my work. 

Yes, I am self employed, but the world these days places same requirements on the one-person-flying-circus as they do on corporations. Everybody expects me to post pretty pictures a few times a day. Everybody expects me to provide customer service. Government expects me to pay taxes. Anyone with a New Year’s Resolution to “date me this year” expects a reply, and then an even longer reply of “why not?” Clients expect me to look my best. To succeed in industry I need to be on top of the tendencies. And to be proud of my work I expect myself to do my absolute best. 

And yes, I HAVE to do everything myself. As such, I employ a cat nanny/cleaner so I can spend few more hours per week learning and studying. Yes, I do as well as I do because I DELIVER on most expectations. And I am able to DELIVER on them because of meticulous hard work that I put in, today and every day, into my business. (Tumblr is part of my Business Profile, by the way, otherwise I wouldn’t be spending time on it. For example, I deemed Instagram no longer cost effective after 3 years as it was not worth the time I had to put into it in terms of prospective client growth, so I stopped using it, at 50K+ followers.) 

As I hope you understand (I simply cannot draw a more basic pie chart!), any reduction in time I spend doing my work results in less income for me. Now, DommeWork, in terms of my age, and in terms of my looks, is an enterprise limited in time. Whatever I save is my future pension, it is my future cash flow, it is my nest egg, for when I retire. Why should I deprive myself of that, so that you could get your knob polished for free? Why SHOULD I make less money for myself just so you can save YOUR money??? 

“Oh, you only have dollar signs in your eyes, you do not value me as a person and as just an cash machine!” -- No, my dear, my stance on “free dating” has absolutely NOTHING to do with you, or how I view or value YOU. But it has EVERYTHING to do with how I view MYSELF, how I VALUE MYSELF, and how I VALUE MY TIME.  Even to give you, a man from the Internet who thinks I owe him free dating, a try for a month, and dedicate 20% of my work time, to you, instead of work, will result in a 20% reduction in MY income the following month. Now, 20% of my average monthly income is roughly my monthly rent. So, I should give up my ENTIRE month’s rent in order to see whether you are worth it? While you do not think you should be paying for dating?

And, what exactly is “it”? The funny thing is that in the “best case scenario” of us moving in together and living happily ever after, you would occupy at least half of my time, ever pushing for more, costing me a 50% reduction of income (that’s TWO ENTIRE RENTS) to then just have to contribute “your fair share” of HALF THE RENT!!! 

So, you are down HALF the rent, while I am down TWO RENTS AND A HALF! And when you yelp “but what about love, love should be free, it is priceless, a relationship should be about two equals!” this is exactly how much YOUR priceless love, by the roughest estimate of the projected loss of earnings based on time allocation is going to cost ME, per month. TWO AND A HALF RENTS. While you insist it should be FREE for you because it is priceless! Show me the equality in that relationship, you equal rights champion you! Where is it? Or is it like in Orwell’s “Animal Farm”, some pigs should be more “equal” than the others? I mean, really???

Do we need another chart to explain to you the “bigger-smaller, up-close or far-away” concepts? Because your parents should have explained it to you when you were about 4 years old... 

“Yeah, well, other women do not expect me to pay them to date them!” -- I do not know what to say to that  -- maybe they value themselves less. Maybe they have too much free time on their hands and are bored. Maybe they cannot entertain themselves. Maybe they need help watching Netflix. Maybe their rents are so high in relation to their overall income that half a rent or half the mortgage for them is worth the trouble. Maybe the contribution they think you will make to their life is worth it for them. Or maybe they need to take a look at my pie charts themselves? In any case, if free dating is what you want, you should address your needs towards them, not me. 

So, my dear, as I dash to my drinks and tapas with friends, as it is a beautiful Sunday afternoon -- and I had to push back my attendance by an hour to finish writing my work blog post to address the topic raised too many times this week alone -- let me give you a word of advice. Before you get your panties in a knot and get thinking of what you can get from me for free -- ask yourself a very hard question: what can you really contribute?

No one, under the penalty of the EU copyright laws, is allowed to use or reproduce my blog or individual posts, or even passages, in any way, shape or form, be it for Netflix series, Amazon books, or anything of the kind, regardless of the credit given. If you have any questions, you may contact me via K8Morgan.com

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Resolution || Solo

For her birthday, Morgan Beck decided it was safe enough to visit Al’s Diner alone. It was eight, an auspicious time only because it after the elderly dinner rush but before students with free Friday’s would come stumbling in to eat away their benders. 

Morgan smudged the snow into her pea coat before walking in. It was a Goodwill find with cat hair from its last life stuck to the wool, but it was still designer, and Morgan prickled in her cheeks to be seen wearing it in town, lest it draw someone’s attention and send rogue ripples into the universe she wouldn’t be able to call back. She couldn’t stomach embracing full-on-frump; her mother had raised her right, except for all the lying, and she worked hard enough at being pretty not to cover it up. No, Morgan wanted to look nice. Just not...too nice. Not ‘hey universe, you almost forgot about me but here I am getting cocky and cozy’ nice. 

The bell over the door jingled as she came in, dulled and muffled with neglect. A tarnish-splotched mirror showed her reflection, warped with self-consciousness and perhaps too big a smile for the venue. Morgan only let herself look at it for a moment; doing anything else would only make her sad.

“Hi Nikha!”

Nikha grabbed a menu without looking up from her notepad. “Sit anywhere you like. Want your tea?”

Morgan hadn’t thought out her evening this far. This time of year, it took her an hour just to decide whether to leave her apartment. She stopped and considered the risks: it was a Thursday, just before the full moon. Thursdays were a little charged with expectation, this close to the weekend, but the waxing period was the time for pulling energy to oneself; going a little fancy would be like swimming out to sea in a crowd. Granted, it was a special Thursday for her, but...

“I didn’t think it was going to be a hard question,” Nikha said.

Morgan gave her brightest apology smile. It was old hat by now, easier than making explanations. “About that. Actually, I would like a hot cocoa, please. With whipped cream.”

“O-kay.” She eyed Morgan, who was holding her smile for good measure, like she might drop her face and shout boo! But the moment passed and Nikha backed towards the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

Morgan ordered a cheeseburger, fat and cooked medium, with hashbrowns instead of fries. 

Having a birthday so close to Christmas meant most Morgan’s parties were attended only by her parents and Mrs. Campell from her mom’s work. After the flood forced them into a new neighborhood, her mom made her a new offer. “I’ll make you anything you want for dinner, as long as it’s something out of the ordinary,” she said. This seemed like an unfair challenge for Morgan, who liked rules as long as they were fair, even the rules of dinner. She asked for burgers and hashbrowns, and stacked the crisp potatoes into her bun when her mother looked underwhelmed with her show of creativity. The next year, Morgan asked for waffles with all the toppings on at once. Another, she had chicken and vegetables doused in maple syrup, though this didn’t quite live up to her imagination. Around fourteen, when Morgan started wrangling oddball friends over for the occasion, she and her mother hatched multi courses together: green beans and bacon, eggplant parm, butter biscuits and chocolate gravy for dipping. If nothing else, it made her known around school for something besides dressing up too much, and this made Morgan sparkle with pride while it lasted. But for herself alone, nothing ever matched this: breakfast and dinner tucked together under a bun. 

“Any desert tonight?” Nikha asked. 

“Yes, please,” Morgan said. “What’s your favorite?”

Nikha rattled off the specials and made a half hearted defense for the chocolate sundae, although they were out of maraschino cherries. 

“What would you want someone to order you for your birthday?” Morgan asked. 

“Easy. That whole damn chocolate cake,” Nikha said, and gestured over her shoulder to a four tier cake iced in crooked swirls and topped with a plastic bow. It took Morgan back to the year she asked for an everything cake, with four cake flavors and three different fillings, all hidden behind ordinary chocolate. Her mom had urged her to do better, and not for the first time Morgan wanted to scream that if it wasn’t good enough for her, she should just decide for herself, and what was so wrong with wanting a cake that was still just a cake anyway? What was so wrong with wanting something nice and normal? 

Morgan’s mother hadn’t told her then. She’d made her the cake and given her an apology by way of a one-armed hug. But Morgan wished she could reach back into their sad, too-small kitchen and shake her. Ask her, was this your stupid way of trying to prepare me? Was this really worth all your energy and power when you could have been fixing our family?

Still, it had been a really nice cake.

“I like the way you think, Nikha,” Morgan said. “I’ll settle for just one slice.”

When the cake appeared on the table, Morgan urged her to have a bite, just one, as a birthday favor, and after enough urging Nikha agreed with a sheepish smile. They looked at each other, and it was almost like bonding.

Morgan paid her bill, tipped well, and watched Nikha’s retreat to the kitchen through the mirror panels. When the coast was clear she took out her candles: black for protection, white for summoning, and purple for remembrance.

She propped them around her in a circle and lit the wicks quickly. The purple one, she squished into the heavy center of her cake. She said her words of cleansing. Her words of blessing. She said the words of gratitude, though her teeth ached to speak them. And at last, she said what she had come to say.

“The bullshit stops here. Not one more year, not one more daughter, not one more fuck-up will I permit from your shadows. I call those responsible to me on my thirty-ninth year. Answer my call.” She reached for the fork, the one Nikha had used, and jabbed it into her dry, peeling cuticles. The blood came quick, and Morgan felt a rush as it connected with the residue of Nikha’s energy, and powered something bigger than she had ever laid her fingers on at her parents’ knee. “Answer my call, by the promises you made and the promises you broke, by the blood we share--” At the edge of Morgan’s attention, Nikha’s body collapsed on the kitchen floor. She’d be fine; it wasn’t like a little saliva and intention could kill a person, at least not that Morgan had been able to guess from her scant reading. But Morgan’s real focus remained on her birthday cake, which had begun to tremble on its plate. Moran raised the fork and flipped through the whole stack of disasters that had followed her here, the secrets that had screwed her over, the pain her family had carried for no good reason, one after the other, she imagined them skewered on the crooked prongs. She stabbed it through the cake flesh, done, and said through her teeth, “So may it be.” 

The cake went still. A drip of wax fell on the icing, and Morgan felt the crackle of energy flutter away. Had she done it? Did she just have to...wait? Or was this one more failure to add to the stack? Somehow, it seemed just about right to Morgan that she couldn’t tell one way or the other. She slumped in her book and picked the candle out, slid the waxy pieces of cake to the corner of her plate, and nibbled at what was left with a clean fork. “Happy thirty-nine, me,” she sighed. “Here’s to not losing everything this year. And to finishing the job.” Morgan swirled a piece into her mouth and let it melt on her tongue. The snow tumbled harder around White Crest and as the buttercream took the edge off Morgan’s disappointment, she found the old bounce in her step and left the diner smiling.

[mividadelicioso]

El Ano de Treinta

First post here...in a long time anyways. If I were being honest, my last Tumblr of decades ago turned into this soft porn type feed. It’s easier to get to that place then you think lol. First it starts with beautiful things as something to choose for your feed, or clothes, and at some muddled point down the line, there are half naked peeps (amongst other things) just popping up on your feed. In any case, that’s not why I ghosted. I ghosted, because like many things, but especially my writing, I just lost the juice of any kind to use my words via ink or typing, (rather). 

So you may be wondering to yourself, or...more realistically, not be giving a shit at all, as to why I am back in this wordy black hole. Well, really, a conglomeration of things that I’ll slowly vomit out onto this virtual paper, but to nutshell it, I’m losing my mind during this quarantine...losing my fucking sanity, as I would assume, everyone else is. However, for me, it’s more than just this quarantine situation (which, by the way, is incredibly insane to think about, but I digress atm), somehow, someway, (of course in my life), all these events just happen to coincide in a very important year of my life, hence the name. I basically spoiler-ed this post for you (you’re welcome for those of you that have no patience to wait until the end). 

I never thought that the ripe old? young? age of 30 would be a big deal to me; I mean, sure, everyone makes lofty goals for that age, that I would almost dare to say, 90% of the population never accomplish, but it just never worried me that the inevitable would come. It WOULD come, like every birthday, and then it would pass, like every birthday, without cause or concern. So what happened? (You might be asking yourself, OR you MIGHT not be caring at all. I mean, who really cares about a strangers’ musings? AMIRITE?). I don’t know, dude...or dudette. The truth is, this quarantine has forced me to sit in my apartment, shut off from distraction, and has forced an OVERTHINKER and an OVERANALYZER to overthink and overanalyze. It has, shall we say, created the perfect storm for this. Of course, the usual shit bothers me about this birthday; like, I had put together a meager list of goals a long time ago, if you could call them such, and as is the purpose of a list of goals, none were accomplished. Typical? Yes. Normal? Yes. A reason to have mental moments (I will always refer to breakdowns of any kind, as ‘mental moments’)? No. And yet, here I am, friends of Tumblr, have now had a mental moment over this  seemingly significant double digit. You’re probably wondering what that list was; yes, I thought about this myself, because truth be told, this last hasn’t actually been present in my mind at all, recently (PROBABLY why nothing has really been accomplished). 

**LIST OF GOALS: 30th Birthday**

-Go to Ireland (always been a dream of mine to visit)

-Be far along in my career (this is about as fucking unspecific as it gets lol)

-Be financially stable (i.e. have savings and shit)

-Pay something towards student loan, bc them government fuckers will find you

TADA! This was my list, ladies and gents. SHOCKING, I know. The length of it...just straight obnoxious. And TBH, none have been accomplished. TECHNICALLY, the second point does not count, because I switched jobs about 4 months ago...made moves as they say. Now, were those moves, MONEY moves? No...(had to make a rap song reference, don’t hate). Please, judge, and then judge away some more. I mean, listen, I have a 401K collecting moneys SOMEWHERE, and I can always still go to Ireland later this year. The irony of THAT particular point is, that I’m on furlough with my job, and the flights have never been fucking cheaper...but I am at a point, where I am FORCED to not spend frivolously. Although I am blessed with a boyfriend, who will be mentioned in a later post, that handles most of the major finances. Not because I’ve asked, (believe me, I have fought him on this...independence and such), but he thinks it’s his duty as the dude, I guess. But still, can’t be spending money that I may need down the line, should this godawful virus continue to ravage the U.S. (STAY HOME PEOPLES. FUCKING MAKE A BLOG...like me). 

In any case, coming face to face with an un-checkmarked list is quite possibly one of the most depressing things ever. So on top of me going out of my mind, and worrying about the health of my friends and family and significant other, I am also confronting the daunting age of 30, as well as, an unrealized list of goals.

Boohoo, boohoo, right? I resonate with your unsympathetic sentiments as well, but isn’t one of the benefits of blogging on the internet, that you can throw yourself as many endless pity parties as you want and no one can say a goddamn thing. That was definitely a rhetorical question, said in the most un-grammatically correct way ever. God, I love the internet. 

I will continue to rant about this further later on, but for now, I will say, that the only resolution I have come up with for this ‘mental moment’ I had about my list of un-accomplishments, is to create...and dare I say it...A VISION BOARD. Yes. 

God. I. Said. It. A FUCKING vision board, people. I’m about to get DIY up in this bitch...cause...not like I have anything else to do, right? 

Ending this post with some photos of tonights’ dinner. My spin on fried rice w/ asparagus, carrots, and corn as the veg component and some general tso’s chicken I baked in the oven. Despite the potential health hazards food can pose, when consumed in large proportions, I do believe in food therapy, people. BELIEVEEEEE IT.  Hashtag it folks, FOODTHERAPY...unless someone created that hash already, in which I can further add that to my list of failings for my grand ano de TREINTA. 

-Foodie OUT-

P.S. Don’t go all Sherlock Holmes and stock a hoe through my food photos. KTHX. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

New Year with the band; Queen x reader

Hello people of Tumblr and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I was hoping to have had this done last night but time got away from me so I finished it this morning and so for my first fic of 2019 I present to you another part of my Rock Angel series. This is a pre-Rock Angel fic right here so this is counted before “Set it all free” when you the reader are still the intern to Miami. And after seeing Bohemian Rhapsody for the 2nd time last night, I just had to do this fic and I may have another chapter up soon, hopefully. Anyways I hope 2019 is a great year for everyone and that everyone stayed safe after last night and are taking care of themselves post-New Year celebration.

Warnings: None except for INSANE FLUFFY FEELS.

Taglist *open*:

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@onebigfangirlworld

@mr-badguymercury

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

_____________________________________________________

*December 31st, 1980*

This has been a crazy three months and here I am in Freddie Mercury’s house with a whole bunch of strangers plus the rest of the band and their wives to ring in the New Year.  Of course Adam didn’t want to come even though I tried to convince him to come, but he said that he was just too cool to be around a band like Queen.

It was 15 minutes till midnight and 1981 would soon be here.  I was at the food table trying to get a second plate of brownies and basically fill up on sugar to keep myself awake.  Most of the people were already hammered beyond anything else so I had to walk over some of their unconscious bodies till I finally reached the guys.

“Ahh there’s our best girl!” Freddie praised at he held his glass up almost as if he were giving a toast.

“Oh stop it Fred, I literally just saw you five seconds ago.”

“Five very long seconds.” He whined as I playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Isn’t that your second batch of sweets already?” asked Brian.

“Sugar keeps me up, otherwise I’d be asleep in the corner hours ago after all that I’ve been through this semester.” I said.

“But I thought you loved us? Guess we were nothing but a stress factor to you then huh?” Deacy snapped clearly teasing me as I noticed a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“No, no, no, no don’t you guilt me Deacy! You know I love you guys! This has literally been the best semester I’ve had, I just can’t believe in a couple more months I’ll be done and then I won’t see you guys till your next tour before Miami clears my internship credit.”

“I can’t believe you’ll be leaving us after our tour, I feel like you should stay here with us even after the tours done. I’d miss you too much darling.” Freddie said as he leaned over and hugged me close to him before kissing my cheek.

“In all seriousness love, maybe you should cut back on the sweets, you’ll crash faster if you keep eating sugar, take some of these,” he then handed me a couple of his celery sticks and baby carrots. I looked at him with a ‘seriously’ look as I said.

“Really? Veggies Bri?”

“Less you want cavities for the new year I suggest you eat those. Otherwise I’ll have Dr. Taylor here take a look at your mouth since he studied dentistry.”

“Wait for real?” I asked as I turned around and faced him.

“This whole time we’ve known each other and you never once bothered to listen to what I did in school. Really (y/n) what kind of friend are you?” Roger said in a mocked hurt tone.  I threw my baby carrot at him which made all of us laugh and we continued to chat till the midnight hour drew closer.

Time sure does go by when you’re having fun with friends because now as everyone gathered to watch the ball drop live from New York City. We were just 2 minutes away to ring in the New Year and as everyone began the countdown, the anticipation was growing as it got closer and closer.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” Everyone cried out as horns were blown, confetti was thrown in the air and couples kissed each other to ring in the New Year.  Bri, Rog and Deacy kissed their wives to celebrate the new year, Freddie was off god knows where by now meanwhile I just sat there alone.

I sure wish Adam was here to ring in the New Year.  I mean he used to be romantic at first at the start of our relationship, always buying my flowers and leaving little poems every time he’d leave the flat, but now for some reason he thought the romantic gestures were too corny and lame for him all of a sudden, could threaten the new “Rock” image he’s been trying out.

So I secretly knew even if I did bring him, he wouldn’t go for a New Year’s kiss.  Which sucked because the believer of romance that I am, I always thought sharing a kiss with the person you loved, meant you’d have a full successful relationship in the years to come.

At least that’s what I always saw in my parents every New Years.

I sighed solemnly and decided to stop out of the craziness of the party and just have a moment to myself.  I sat along outside in the garden of Freddie’s house along the bench and just stared up into the sky.

“Happy New year mum and dad. I sure wish you could be here to see it.” I said to myself solemnly.

“Something wrong love?” I heard Deacy’s voice say. I turned around and saw the guys standing behind me all looking at me with concern.

“No, not really. At least anything serious.” I said.

“You sure?” They all came and sat around me. Deacy to my left, Brian to my right, Roger sitting in front of me and Freddie standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders every now and then squeezing them assuringly or massaging them.

“Yes, I promise guys nothing’s wrong just….missing my parents is all.”

“While we can see that’s true, there’s something else going on too. You got a little awkward once people started kissing each other, is this because of Arsehole?” Roger said.  I looked at him and said.

“His name’s Adam Rog,”

“Is there a difference?” he questioned. I scoffed at him shaking my head softly.

“I don’t know guys, I thought that maybe I could for the first time get a New Year’s kiss with the first boy whom I’ve ever allowed into my heart ever since my parents died. Oh if only you guys first knew him you’d know he was romantic like you lot are, but lately he’s just called off anything that could damage his ‘badass hard rock exterior’. I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sap.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic. Neither gender should feel shame for being or hoping for a little romantic gesture in their life. Take me for example, the best guitarist of the greatest band. Makes his wife breakfasts in bed even when it’s not Mother’s Day or her birthday. I do it because I love her.” Brian said.

“And me, silent bassist John Deacon. I wrote ‘You’re my best friend’ for Veronica. Because that’s who she is and will always be to me. Not just the love of my life, but also my greatest and most treasured friend.”

“And even though we’ve broken off the engagement, Mary will still always be the love of my life. No matter what, which is why I wrote Love of my life for her, because that is who she is and will always be to me. Even though we’re no longer romantically involved with each other.” Said Freddie.

“And even though I’ve gained the reputation for ‘bad drummer boy of Queen’, for Dominque I’m willing to do anything for her. Whether its treating her to a spa day or even a day off from the kids.”

“And that’s what makes your wives and Mary so lucky to have met guys like you. I….just wish I had that guy now.”

“You will love, one day.” Deacy said as he gently placed his hand on the top of my shoulder and gently stroked it with his thumb.

“Until then you still got us, in fact.” Freddie cupped my face and had me look up at him and he kissed both my cheeks and continued, “Consider that your New Year’s kiss from me to you, darling angel.” I smiled up at him as he released my face from his hands.  I then felt my head turn towards Deacy and he said.

“Happy New Year poppet, here’s my kiss from me to you.” He then kissed my temple before I felt him lean his face against mine giving me an additional butterfly kiss. He backed away as Brian said.

“Don’t forget about me,” I turned towards him and he cupped my face much like Freddie did. He first leaned in and gave me a soft Eskimo kiss as his forehead touched mine which always made me feel safe and loved. He then gingerly kissed the center of my forehead and it was then I turned to Roger.

He grinned up at me and said.

“You know the drill, get into these arms you little imp.” I grinned at him before getting off the bench and hugged Roger. His strong arms wrapped around me instantly giving me a big, warm bear hug as I liked to secretly call them.

I felt him repeatedly kiss the top of my head and felt him rub my back.  But then I felt him starting to poke and lightly pinch around my sides, oh shit not again!

“Rog no!”

“No you’ve ended last year with a frown, when you should’ve been smiling. So that’s my first New Year’s resolution, to get you to smile.” He said with a mischievous grin as he kept tickling me. I squirmed around trying to escape Roger’s grip but it was iron clamped.

“Rog….stohahahp!”

“Nah I don’t think so.” He said as he kept tickling me.

“You know Rog, I think you and I are sharing the exact same resolution.” Deacy say.

“No! Nohohoh Deacy don’t…..NOO!!” Soon I had both Roger and Deacy tickling me.

“For being total opposites, seems they’ve agreed on one thing.” I could hear Brian say.

“Indeed.” Stated Freddie.  

“But who says they get to have all the fun?” suggested Brian.  As I kept trying to escape from both Rog and Deacy, suddenly I felt four more pair of hands start to tickle me.

“Guhahahahys stohahahahhap you’re kihihihihlling me!!!”

“Will you start off the New Year with a smile little angel?” Freddie asked.

“YES!! YEHEHEHESS!! JUST PLEHEHEHEASE STOHAHAHP!!” And with that the tickling ceased.  I panted heavily trying to regain my breathing and I said, “You guys are devils I swear.”

“Well that was rather rude darling.” Freddie said.

“Does that require punishment lads?” Brian asked.

“I say it does.” Stated Roger.

“Agreed.” Said Deacy.  The four of them looked at me ready to start tickling me again when I shouted.

“No! No! No! No! No I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Okay I’m sorry I surrender!” They all smirked at me laughing softly.  I then looked at them and said, “Thanks for cheering me up though guys.”

“No problem love, we’re always here for you when you need us.” Brian said as he gently stroked my hair.

“Happy New Year, my four best boys.”

“Happy New Year, our little rock angel.” Freddie said. I smiled at them and I went up to them and the four of them brought me to the center once more but instead of a tickle attack, it was a Queen group hug.  

1980 was a roller coaster year for me, but the best thing that came out of it was the fact that a girl like me, an ordinary college intern music student got to call the biggest band in all of History, my family.

Hell I can’t even imagine what 1981 was going to bring that could make this year seem just like any ordinary year.