#yes this applies to hiking trails. yes this applies to parks. yes this applies to public transit. yes this applies to itty bitty dogs

[sleepingfancies]

kind of just sounds like you hate dogs. leash laws don't apply to beaches either btw

Not getting into the dregs of this argument again for real but

A) i love dogs they are very cute and funny and sweet creatures. i don't love when their owners think it's a Me problem when i don't want their 100 pound hunting dog jumping on me on sight.

B) you're right, leash laws don't apply to beaches! Because (in the USA at least) most beaches have laws banning pets from being brought entirely. So your dog shouldn't even be there let alone unleashed

[lightsovermonaco]

Learning Curve

Masterlist

Inspired by my new car (yes. I am obsessed. What of it) and also my lovely bestie and beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit make sure you read her fics too!

Word count: 3.1k

Recommended song: "Wildflower" by 5 Seconds of Summer

Hungary at the tail end of July is beautiful. Fresh floral blooms and rolling hills pass by, the pops of color so bright they almost hurt to look at. It smells like summer, rife with the promise of days spent lounging in a beach chair with a fruity drink in your hand. Returning to university in a month is a worry for another time; today is about enjoying the man beside you.

You lean your head against the door of Pierre's Civic, your arm out the window floating on the wind. The mid morning sun hangs fat and lazy above the horizon, its warmth seeping in to heat your bones. Bits of easy conversation fill the space, the occasional lapses comfortably filled by the soft hum of the radio playing some incomprehensible pop songs. If Max were here he'd probably sing along, so horrendously off key that there was no choice but to laugh along.

Traffic grows thinner and less congested as you leave Budapest proper behind. Your destination is a mystery, but one you are more than happy to leave unanswered until your eventual arrival. Pierre woke you a few hours ago at the ass crack of dawn, bouncing on his heels with a huge grin plastered on his face. He pointed to the pile of clothes at the foot of your hotel bed and instructed you to get ready and ask no questions. The bistro he took you to for breakfast reminded you of Rouen, which undoubtedly was part of the reason he loved it so much. 

Summer break kicked off only yesterday and Pierre is determined to spend every minute with you. Three weeks of uninterrupted time with your racer, not one event or interview scheduled. No sooner than Pierre finished his debrief on Sunday had he flipped the switch between racer and boyfriend, seamlessly slipping back into the doting, affectionate man you loved. All three weeks are meticulously planned out for the two of you; Pierre took great care ensuring you wouldn't have to lift a finger the entire time.

Pierre finds the hand resting in your lap and twines your fingers together, bringing them to his lips and dropping a kiss on each of your knuckles. "Any guesses where we're going?"

"Clearly not a shopping center," you joke, your grin growing as you say it. Mountains surround you for the better portion of the drive, meaning you're utterly clueless as to what he has in mind. 

"Nope. I'm taking you on a hike." Keeping secrets or surprises to himself isn't Pierre's fortay. It's virtually impossible for him to keep it to himself, too antsy to see your face when he drops the big reveal.

"Mmm," you glance pointedly at your shoes, "that explains why you made me pack these."

Pierre nods and steals a glance at you. "The view from the top is gorgeous, you're gonna love it."

To be honest, you're not sure anything can top your current view: Pierre, rosy cheeked and laughing against the backdrop of rainbow fields. His baby blue shirt hugging his chest, the one you bought him ages ago that became too small after his winter break bulk-up. He stubbornly refused to replace the shirt, no matter how often you offer to do so. You couldn't dream up a better day if you tried.

The car's exhaust pops faintly as Pierre downshifts and pulls into a gravel lot. An old VW Golf is the only other car in the lot, tucked off to the side under the shade trees. Pierre double checks that the car is in neutral and applies the parking brake before cutting the engine. 

"You up for an hour of vigorous, intense cardio?"

"Judging by the slope of that trail," you say, pointing to the gently sloping path that cuts through the waist-high grasses, "I doubt it'll be that intense. But bring it on, lover boy."

**********

"People think it's Holland that's got all the tulips, but they're actually the national flower of Hungary."

"Is that so?" You swing your joined hands between you, more than happy to listen to Pierre's random factoids. Where he stored the expert-level trivia is a mystery. You assume his head is chock full of racing data and specs, but somehow a corner of his brain must be reserved for little things like this.

"Yep." Pierre drops your hand and spreads his arms wide, walking backwards ahead of you. "All of this- fuck!"

You reach for him as he falls, his arms cartwheeling in an attempt to catch him. He goes down hard, his left ankle taking one for the team and rolling hard enough for there to be a faint pop.

"Owwww," Pierre groans, eyes screwed shut. "Fucking hell, what did I even trip over?"

You crouch and gingerly assess the joint, fingers prodding the tanned skin and earning a hiss from the Frenchman. "I've no idea. There's nothing here, not a rock or anything."

"At least the race was yesterday," Pierre sighs, leaning back on his elbows in the dirt. "Christian would have my ass if I tripped over air and couldn't drive."

"Let's get you up." Pierre grabs your outstretched hand and you haul him to his feet. He carefully puts weight on his left leg and immediately yelps and leans on you.

"Yep, I'm not trying that again."

Sighing, you wrap an arm around his waist. "Alright then. At least we didn't get too far."

Pierre pouts his lower lip, concentrating on limping back the way you came. "I'll bring you back once this is better. It really is amazing."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Oh shit," Pierre starts, hobbling along to pause and lean against a tree, "you know who is gonna kill me?"

"Pyry," you both say at the same time. You grin and Pierre groans, already thinking of the grueling routines his trainer will likely put him through once he's able.

"This just sucks." Pierre scrubs a hand over his face and bends down to examine his ankle. "Being around you makes me clumsy."

You bite back a laugh, "guess you fell for me a little too hard, huh?"

Pierre straightens and fixes you with an amused glare. "Oh, that's just cheesy. Even for you, little miss pun queen."

Looping an arm around his middle, you laugh, "see, you act like you wouldn't actually say that though. We both know you're just mad you didn't come up with it first." Not a day went by that Pierre didn't find some way to compliment you and remind you how he felt, often going over the top with the cheese factor. You love him for it though, and appreciate every kind word, tucking them away in your mental album to pull out and look at again when he is away.

"No you're one hundred percent right. That should've been my line."

You focus on getting the two of you safely down the gentle incline before you retort, "why does the way back always seem ten times longer than the way there?"

"It might be because you're carrying around a hunk of muscle operating on one good leg and one swollen ankle."

"Thank god," you mumble a few moments later when you crest the final ridge and spot the Civic. You love Pierre, but hauling him around isn't something you're capable of doing much longer.

"Are you good to drive?" You ask, digging the keys out of his pocket and unlocking the car. 

"Have you seen the size of my ankle?" Pierre shakes his head. "You're gonna have to drive."

"What?" You sputter, cheeks heating. "I can't. I mean, I don't know how."

Despite being surrounded by cars since you could walk, being taught to drive a manual wasn't something you gave much thought. You'd tried once when you were little, maybe twelve of thirteen. With the seat pushed all the way forward you still struggled to reach the pedals and gave up after many failed attempts. Getting back in the driver's seat to learn hasn't seemed important when an uber was a click away. 

Pierre smiles wide. "Relax, amour. I'll teach you."

You chew on your lip, glancing between the keys in your hand and the ball of metal that served as your only way back to the hotel. The only way this ends is in embarrassment. You sigh, accepting your tragic fate. Might as well get it over with so you can call Charles or Max to come save your sorry asses.

"I'm not sure," you mumble, unconsciously running your nails over your palm. The Civic was huge compared to your normal car; even if it was a standard transmission you'd be nervous about driving it.

Confidence oozes from Pierre when he smiles, "I promise I'm a good teacher. Please give it a try."

You blow a raspberry and rake a hand through your slightly sweat damp hair. Battles like this aren't easily won with Pierre, especially when he has the unfair advantage of looking like a particularly cute puppy when he chooses to. "Alright, fine."

"Really? I thought I was gonna have to call Horner and beg him to come get us." You cringe inwardly at the mere mention of his old team principal. Pierre doesn't notice, instead pressing a kiss to your cheek, utterly giddy with the opportunity to imbue you with some of his skill. "You'll do great. It's just like riding a bike."

The smile you offer in return is far more wobbly than his. Regular driving took you long enough to master. Throw in more things to remember, like braking and shifting and listening to the engine, and you were set on a crash course that ended in disaster.

You walk at a snail's pace around the car and pause with your fingers curled around the handle. As long as you don't panic, you'll be fine.

What if you mess up? What if something happens and you get stranded somewhere and have to wait hours for someone to find you?

You take your time buckling in, nerves eating away at your stomach. Maybe if you threw up Pierre would let you phone a friend. Meticulously adjusting your side and rear view mirrors affords you a few precious seconds of wasted time, which unfortunately does nothing to help your mindset.

Your hands rest on opposite sides of the leather wrapped wheel, looking every ounce like a teenager about to embark on their driving test. You stare straight ahead, heart pounding so loud you're positive it echoes in the cabin.

"Um, sweetheart?" Pierre pokes your arm. "It helps if you start the engine."

"Oh. Uh- right." You turn the key and nothing happens. A light blinks on the dash and a warning dings rapidly. Immediately you throw your hands up, ready to protest that you didn't do anything when text appears on the navigation screen.

Depress clutch pedal to start vehicle.

Right, yeah, that makes sense. You glance down to locate the third pedal at your feet and press it to the floor, finding it goes twice as far as you expected it to. This time when you turn the key the engine rumbles to life, shaking you in your seat. "Oookay. Okay. What do I do?"

Pierre taps the lever at your side. "Start by pressing the brake pedal, then release the parking brake. Push the button in and pull up before lowering it."

You follow his instructions, and to your delight the engine doesn't sputter and die which sparks a sliver of self-confidence. With a little luck, maybe this wouldn't be as terrible as you expected. "Okay, and now?"

"Now you use your left foot to press the clutch. All the way to the floor." Patience is key when it comes to teaching someone a new skill. Luckily Pierre possesses that trait in heaps and bounds, using it in conjunction with his knowledge of how you operate to tailor his lesson to best suit your needs.

Your toes barely reach the clutch so you have to take a second to scoot your seat forward a few inches. "Okay," you say, finally comfortably settled with your feet holding both the brake and clutch pedals firmly.

"Now you do this." Pierre grips the shift knob and pushes down firmly. "When you're putting it in reverse, you have to make sure you push the shifter in, otherwise you'll wind up in sixth."

Your laugh is strained. "Which would be bad."

Pierre smiles wide, further lightening the mood. "Yeah, it wouldn’t be good. So, reverse in the Civic is all the way right and down." Pierre demonstrates, letting you observe the pattern. "Whenever you're ready, you're in reverse."

You furrow your brow, checking your mirrors. "Um, okay. So now I let the clutch out-"

"Not all the way-"

The warning comes too little too late. You dump the clutch in a single motion and the car jerks backwards and dies.

"Fuck," you mumble, cheeks going hot. Point proven, you have no idea what you're doing and were probably too uncoordinated to figure it out. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Pierre reaches over to cycle the key and winces, forgetting his injury momentarily. "It's only a rental."

"Yeah but if I break something it's gonna come out of your paycheck." Because that's how the Red Bull umbrella operated, you supposed. They didn't tend to care much about their drivers, unless they brought in the big bucks. Which wouldn't be the case if you kept at this and burned up the clutch. "I'll just call Charles, he can come get us-"

"He's on a plane by now," Pierre says, reaching out to smooth a hand over your hair. "Hey, look at me. Just try again, okay? Everyone stalls once in a while, even me."

You nod, taking a breath. You close your hand over the leather of the shifter, pressing the clutch in and slowly rowing through the gears until you get a feel for where they lie. You side it all the way right and down, the transmission sounding beneath you.

"Okay, I'll try again."

"There's my girl." Pierre squeezes your thigh encouragingly, a delightful shiver running down your spine with the praise. "You ready?"

"Ready."

"Apply the gas evenly as you start letting off the clutch," Pierre coaches in the most soothing voice you've heard from him. "You're looking for proportions. And if you panic, just push the clutch all the way in and start over. No big deal."

"No big deal." You look over your shoulder, inching off the clutch while incrementally adding more throttle. The revs skyrocket for a moment until you get the hang of it, but you do as Pierre had suggested and start again. It takes you a few more tries to get backed all the way out of the spot, but you don't stall it.

Pierre whoops and rubs his hand along your thigh. "There you go! See, I knew you could do it."

You grin and shift into first. "Only because I have the best teacher." You take another deep breath, focusing on the feel of the pedal under your left foot. You let it out slowly until you feel it start to grab and inch on the throttle. The car purrs and rolls forward, jolting a little when you let out the clutch a bit early.

"Still not bad," Pierre murmurs encouragingly, then reminds you to take it slow on the gravel. You do, cautiously applying throttle just enough to keep the car from chugging. 

"Here we go," you breathe and successfully pull onto the street. Luckily you were on some long forgotten backroad and no other cars were in sight. You trundle along in first gear for long enough that Pierre instructs you to pull over.

"Stopping and starting is the hard part." Pierre's hand is warm as it settles over yours on the gear shift. "Push in the clutch and I'll show you where the gears are."

Pierre helps you feel out all six gears with the engine off. You concentrate on the throw of the shifter, trying to memorize the length between each shift.

"What if I accidentally put it in reverse instead of sixth?" The disaster plays out in your head clear as day. Parts flying about from the engine, flames- the whole nine yards.

"You can't, because you have to do this-" Pierre pushes down firmly on the shifter before sliding it over and down, a mirror of his earlier action- "to put it in reverse, remember? It's like a fail safe so that doesn't happen."

You nod, trying to think of anything else to keep his hand on yours. "Err, I guess that's it then?"

Pierre raises your joined hands to his lips before placing yours back on the shifter. "Have at 'er. This stretch is long and flat for the next few miles and the pavement was relatively smooth when we came through this morning, so you should be fine if you wanna try going fast."

Biting your lip, you start again. The exhaust rumbles beneath you as you fly through first, second, third, until you're giddy with laughter and speed.

Now you understand why Pierre is addicted to this. Piloting a road car pales in comparison to steering a formula car around a track like Spa, and still you're hooked in a single drive. 

As you get closer to town, Pierre chuckles, "alright speed demon, slow it down a bit. You're coming up on traffic."

You pout your lower lip but downshift, the crackling exhaust amplified by the barrier wall along the highway to your right. "Remember when you asked me what I wanted for my birthday?"

"I feel like I know where this is going."

You shoot Pierre a grin and downshift again when brake lights illuminate the dusty horizon. "I want one of these babies. This is so much more fun than an auto."

"Didn’t I tell you that you'd be fine? You did great actually, better than Charles when I taught him. He got so pissed when he couldn't figure it out that he got out and started cursing in every language he knew- it almost reminded me of Max when things don't go his way."

"I'll be sure to rub that in Charles' face at the next opportunity." Your laugh is warm, heart filled with the newfangled joy of exceeding the learning curve. 

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜 & 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜

_________________________________

𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍: (ANON) Ohhhhh I want to send in something too! 😍 sorry for another Bucky one but he stole my heart. So he’s your boyfriend and you’re just a normal civilian but you barely saw each other lately (missions, your annoying office job), so he decides to surprise you. He sneaks into your apartment and prepares a pillow fort, makes your favorite dinner and all and when you come home it’s all just fluffy and you cuddle and enjoy your time together? 🤗 and if you liiiike maybe a little proposal 🤭 thank you so much

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: super fluffy smut, like ew lmao, pillow fort sex,

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: timeline’s fucked teehee; whew, man i’m so scatter-brianed right now y’all i’m so sorry for being so crazy thanks for baring with me yall love you lots, my little bugs xx

_________________________________

You walked through your apartment door huffing in frustration. Today at work was very annoying. You applied for the position of Chief Operating Officer; it’s basically the overseer of the company, you would essentially make sure everything’s in visual working order. You felt confident in the position and you showed integrity and potential to really excel in the job. 

However, on your way home passing the parking lot to get to your car on this fine Friday evening, you noticed a little commotion going on in your boss’s car. The CEO. Let’s just say you figured out why he’s been so lenient to your competitor. 

You threw your purse on the couch and kicked your shoes off. You went into the kitchen and grabbed a nice cold bottle of water. You went back into the living room after turning the light on and sat comfortably on the couch. 

You pulled your phone out and decided to call Bucky. He was probably super busy on his mission but you gave it a shot anyway. You let the phone ring but no pick up. You sighed but sent a message saying how much you loved him and miss him. You and Bucky had been together for years. You had been through everything together. 

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky sat adorably underneath his makeshift fort that he created in the middle of your bedroom anxiously waiting for your arrival. He heard you walk through the front door and became super antsy and excited. Practically squirming like a child under his makeshift pillow fort.

When you didn’t come into the bedroom, he grew a bit worried. His phone suddenly rang loudly and he muted his phone lightning fast. He paused for a second waiting to see if maybe you heard it before he declined your call. Not long after he got your message and his heart ached for you. He loved you so much he couldn’t even put it into words.

You shifted on the couch again ready to turn the television on to distract you from all the craziness in your life so far. 

“Why didn’t you come to the room?” Bucky said, coming out from the darkness.

“Buck!” you gasped in fright. There was a brief moment where you two stared at each other motionless before you smiled and started giggling as did Bucky.

“What are you doing here?” you laughed. 

“I have a surprise for you baby,” he led you to the bedroom. When you opened the door wider your mouth dropped in awe at the gesture before your eyes. 

“Is that a fort?” you smiled.

“Yeah, come on,” Bucky pulled you underneath.

There were blankets and pillows under a large white sheet with hanging lights. He pulled a small basket filled with snacks and candy and your smile grew wider. You cuddled under the blankets and you pulled out your laptop to watch movies together. 

During the movie Bucky’s hand wandered under your shirt and as hard you tried to focus on the movie, you just couldn’t think about anything but his warm fingers tracing your skin. You peaked up at him and Bucky’s eyes were trained on the screen in front of you.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and you could tell Bucky smiled at the gesture.

“I love you, baby,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he rubbed his hand up and down your back. 

You hiked your leg over his waist to lay entire on top of him. Bucky chuckled and rested his hands on top of your hips. You just gave him a cheeky smile biting your bottom lip while you played with his hair.

“What is it baby?” he asked you.

“Nothing; work’s been kinda rough,” you said.

“How come?” he asked, making you huff and sigh loudly; he chuckled as he prepared himself for your upcoming rant.

“Well, I applied for the COO position because I really enjoy working for the company and the owner is very friendly and the environment is great. I thought I was gonna get a fair chance to get the position; I feel like I really have the skills for what it takes to help run this company. But I noticed that the CEO, the owner’s kid, seems to be very adamant about hiring Jess,” you explained.

“Jess? She doesn’t strike me as someone who wants to be Chief Operating Officer,” he chuckled.

Although Jess was somewhat intelligent, not in an insulting way, she’s made it clear to many coworkers that she doesn’t enjoy her job too much. So it was surprising to hear when she applied to compete for the position as well despite the previous complaints. Well now considering why she did it in the first place, you applaud her ambition. After all, all chiefs were expected to work alongside and closely to each other. 

“She’d get to and is practically already ‘working’ with Daniel,” Daniel being the CEO’s name.

“No,” Bucky gasped in disbelief.

“Yes,” you chuckled.

“Oh, well. That doesn’t seem too fair.”

“Well, no, but I don’t know. I mean she has every right to date our boss; I just wish his decision wasn’t being affected by that, you know?” you said.

“I totally get it,” he cupped your face, “You’re gonna get the job, baby. I just know it.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky kissed you gently and your body relaxed onto him. His hand trailed up your shirt and sent chills down your spine. The hand that rested lightly on your face wrapped around your neck as Bucky slowly flipped you over and towered over you. 

He kept kissing you softly and your hands sneaked under his shirt, your finger tracing the contours of his muscular torso. His hips settled between your legs and you could feel his prominent bulge poking at your core even through the thick material of his jeans and your pants as well. 

Bucky released your lips and traced his nose along the curve of your jaw line and down your neck. He licked and sucked gently on the spot that made you gasp and moan and marked you leaving a dark purple and red hickey for you. 

His hand went under your shirt as well but ultimately just pushed it up and over your head tossing it behind him as you two were still laying under the fort. His lips pressed against your chest before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue circled the perked bud before sucking and releasing your nipple with a lewd pop. 

He kissed you down before coming in between your thighs and curled his fingers over your pants pulling them down when you lifted your hips for him. He didn’t ignore the wetness that was spread around your pussy, bringing a finger to circle your hole. 

You hips wiggled and your walls clenched around nothing, desperate for him to insert a finger and fuck you. You looked down at him with furrowed brows and your bottom lip between your teeth; your expression silently begging Bucky to do something. He smirked devilishly and leaned down to lick your clit ever so lightly making you groan in frustration and need. 

“Bucky please,” you whimpered.

“Please what baby?” he whispered.

“Bucky, please do something, anything.”

“You gotta tell me exactly what you need baby,” he taunted.

“Bucky, use your fingers please; fuck me.”

He pushed a flesh finger passed your folds but you didn’t want that.

“Not those, please,” you whispered timidly.

“Oh, you want my metal fingers? Is that right?” you nodded shyly.

“Words,” he commanded.

“Yes, I want your metal ones,” you said shakily.

“As you wish, my love.”

He moved his flesh fingers and spread your folds before bringing his metal finger up to your entrance. When you pushed in, you hissed at the cold feeling of them inside you but you loved it. Bucky leaned forward again to lick your clit and made your hips jolt against him, making him chuckle at the reaction he pulled from you. 

“Oh, Bucky, that feels so good,” you moaned.

“You're doing so good baby. Taking my metal finger so well. Think we can add another?” he kissed your inner thighs.

“Ugh, yes!”

“Good girl.”

He brought another finger and inserted easily slipped passed your folds as did the first finger. His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked making you practically scream in pleasure. You breathed heavily whining as you got close to your release. Bucky’s tongue circled your clit again quickly this time as he could tell you were very close from the way you clenched and throbbed around his fingers. 

“Buck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Let go, pretty baby. I want to see you gush all over my fingers,” he said, his voice raspy.

You moaned as your legs shook; your stomach contracting as you came. Bucky lapped up everything that flowed from you and crawled out the small fort to strip completely crawling back in with a goofy smile on his face.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

“You are too,” you said tiredly with a smile.

“No you,” he challenged.

“No, you!” you giggled.

“I fucking you so much,” he smiled widely from ear to ear.

“I love you too,” you teared up.

“I don't know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never need to know.”

Bucky’s hard dick poked at your entrance and you were both eager to please each other. You lined his cock and slowly Bucky pushed himself in pulling moans from you both simultaneously.  His hips molded against yours like a perfect puzzle piece as he bottomed out.

You tugged on his shoulders silently asking him to move. He moved at a swift pace, his hips slapping against yours making indecent and almost pornographic sounds that echoed in your apartment. Your moans didn’t help to diminish the filthy noises.

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna let everyone in this building know whose fucking you this good? Let ‘em know how good you're taking my cock? Such a good girl,” he whispered vulgarly in your ear.

“Fuck, Bucky,” your eyes were screwed shut and you knew how Bucky got when you didn’t look at him during sex.

“Hey, look at me,” he growled.

“I can’t,” you cried, tears crawling from your tightly shut eyes.

“Come on, I thought you were my good girl? You still gonna be my good girl?” he said.

“Yes! I’m your good girl, fuck!” you opened your eyes and Bucky’s forehead fell against yours.

“Tell me how you feel baby girl. I wanna hear ya keep talking to me,” he panted.

“Fuck, it feels so good. You fill me up so fucking good, baby,” you whined.

“Yeah?” he smiled.

“Yes! I’m gonna come, shit,” you moaned loudly.

“Go on, let go baby. I got you,” Bucky said.

His thrusts became faster chasing both your releases and soon you body shook under his caging arms. His hips stuttered and spurts of hot cum coated your velvety walls. Bucky collapsed over you and both of your heavy breathing slowed. He looked at you and found you smiling sleepily with drowsy eyes and he knew he had to clean you up before you fully fell asleep. 

“Come on, baby we gotta get you cleaned up.”

“No, I’m sleepy,” you whined.

“I know but you’re sweaty and you’ve my cum dripping out of you.”

“So?” you said with your eyes closed making Bucky chuckle. He grabbed your ankles and pulled out of the fort and picked you up to set on the bathroom counter. He turned on the bath and when it was steamy and ready he picked you up and carefully sat in the tub. He washed your hair first and climbed in the tub sitting behind you. 

He quickly washed his body before taking the washcloth full of soap and lathered it against your warm skin. He cleaned your body not without a bit of teasing, moving delicately over your nipples and drawing out between your thighs. You tried your best to not squirm but ultimately jolted when he applied the smallest bit of pressure around your core. 

When you finished you dried yourself off before heading back into your room crawling under the fort that thankfully stayed intact. 

“Can we sleep here tonight?” you asked shyly.

“You liked it?” he smiled.

You nodded gingerly with a grin, reaching out to him with grabby hands desperate for him to join you. He got comfortable letting your arm rest gently on his chest and your head on his shoulder. Your leg wrapped around his and tangled themselves. Bucky smiled to himself knowing you were probably already asleep now. 

He looked down at your peaceful sleeping face and pressed small kisses to the top of your head and your forehead. He reached behind him under the pillow surprised you hadn’t found the small velvet box hiding between them. 

He pulled out a beautiful ring that he was planning on giving to you whilst you were awake. Preferably when you would have walked into the bedroom with a beautiful surprise look on your stunning face. He got distracted when you pulled out your laptop and he just basked in the time and attention he was getting from you. 

He pulled the ring from the box and slipped it on your delicate finger. He knows you’re going to say yes. He loves you so much and he knows you love him just as much. There was no hesitation that he wanted to propose to you; spend the rest of his life with you, it was a dream come true. 

He couldn't wait until morning when you’d wake up as gorgeous as you always do beside him and notice the ring. He could hear your squeals already. He held you tightly and closed his eyes feeling the happiest he’s ever been in years. You made his life better and he loved you forever for that. Anticipating the next morning, he fell into a peaceful sleep with you, the love of his life, tuck perfectly in his arms.

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@mathletemadison

[fuck-customers]

I just celebrated my one year anniversary of working retail (at a chain pet store) earlier this month so to commemorate the occasion I shall complain about stuff that pisses me off

-The one I hate the most: PEOPLE WITH DOGS ON RETRACTABLE LEASHES. If you come into the store with your dog on a retractable leash, I automatically hate you. If it's in the locked position then that's fine, but 99.9% of the time it's not. Save the retractable leash for the park or hiking trails. An added bonus is when the dog walks further than what the customer wants and they just go "oh no Bella sweetie come here no no" like if you want the dog near you, use a regular fucking leash??? Why even use the retractable leash in the store, you may as well just let the dog fucking run loose foh

-On that same note, people who just let their dogs off leash. I don't care if your dog is friendly, we have training/grooming/vaccine clinics happening at all times, and other people's dogs may not be! Just because your dog is friendly doesn't mean all the other dogs are. Put your dog on the fucking leash.

-People who follow me back and forth from the tank to the aquatics sink when I'm getting fish for them. I'm just catching a fish in a little net and putting it in a bag, I don't need an audience. Get the hell out of my way and let me bag the damn fish

-This is just a personal peeve of mine but people with kids who come in to just gawk at the animals. I get it if you are interested in an animal or want to get some ideas of a good pet, but if you come in and just stand there as your kid is tapping the glass and scaring the animals, I automatically don't like you. Additionally, please don't ask to pet/hold the animals if you're not looking to get one. Go to a petting zoo like everyone else

-We're getting our saltwater fish in soon. Cant fucking wait for all the kids and their parents to be standing around it saying "look it's NeMo!! It's DoRy!!"

-Don't complain to me about something the groomer/trainer did. I'm just the one checking you out, if you're that peeved about it complain to them

-Our rewards system doesn't automatically load your rewards, you have to do it yourself. I know it's annoying, but that's not my problem. Don't fucking hold up the entire damn line trying to find your rewards!! Just step aside, let me take the next guest, and when you find them and load them I'll take you right after them!

-People who don't listen to my advice. When I said that cage was too small for your hamster I wasn't lying, ITS TOO SMALL FOR THEM. Just listen to my advice please gdi

-People who watch their dogs piss/shit, then look at me and say "oh they went potty" then expect me to clean it. Yes I know it's "part of my job" and expect to do it, but take some responsibility for your damn dog!! We have stations all around the store to clean up pet accidents, fucking use them. It's out of paper towels? Ask me for some. Pets go in the store all the time so I'm not fazed by it at all, it's when the owners know they had an accident and look at me to clean it up. The same "curb your dog" rule applies here too pal

That's all I can think of off the top of my head. I do actually enjoy working at the store, as much as one can enjoy working retail that is. I get to talk to people about their pets, and I get to help them make good product decisions and give some advice. It's not too bad of a retail job I say so myself, but it's the little things like these that lowkey dulls my shift.

[anothertimdrakestan]

hello please may i request the batboys proposing to their s/o 🥺 those marriage hcs were real cute and they just got me thinking u know. thank u 🖤

How The Batfam Prosposes To Their S/O HC

ofc! thank you! check out the marriage hc HERE! this req is beyond adorable and i tried to live up to the cuteness 🥰

Dick Grayson:

- dick would be SO EXTRA dude

- he'd get all your loved ones, family, friends etc and bundle up his whole family and have them waiting to suprise you

- he seems like a proposing on your anniversary so you don't expect it guys

- if you're down for slightly public stuff he'd take you to a theme park like disneyland and you'd both spend the day with your loved ones watching tim and dami bicker over the fastest way to get to the most rides or your best friend totally simping over jason and him flirting like a motherfucker, hand in hand with dick, just happy that there's finally a perfect day where everyone is together

- imagine going up on a huge rollercoaster and dick whispering all his favorite moments with you as the cart ticks up a massive hill

- then right before the drop, dick turns to you, "what i'm really asking is: marry me y/n" and the ride drops, you screaming yes as you zoom down the massive hill and do loop de loops, your happy tears flying all over the place

- the picture they take when you drop shows you cry-screaming while dick grins like an idiot

- getting off the ride dick's brothers and your loved ones are bouncing off the walls "WHAT DID YOU SAY" y/b/f screeched as soon as you come out from the ride

- with one hand you held up the printed picture of you screaming with "she said yes!" written on the top and with the other hand you held up a brand new, gorgeous ring siting snuggly on your finger

- the rest of the day is spent hand in hand with dick, you keep walking around saying "look how pretty my ring looks next to this!" or "WAIT LET ME TAKE A PICTURE WITH MY HAND OUT" and you both get tons of adorable candid photos with various disneyland/theme parks places and items that you'll be treasuring forever

Jason Todd:

- texting jason that your boss suprisingly let your team off work a couple hours early you both made plans to meet at home for dinner together and a night in, a rarity recently with how busy you were finishing school and having a job while he had red hood duties

- coming back to your shared home there were rose petals trailing you into your bedroom, and a huge paper screen blocking you from seeing the kitchen or your dining room, but you wanted to let jason have his fun so you followed the petals

- on your bed was the outfit that makes you feel like a hot bitch and a note saying "hey angel, put this on then open the laptop" and you complied

- as soon as you put in your login a video titled "to the love of my life" which was pretty sappy for jason, but you clicked anyway

- a roughly edited video shows jason sitting down, his cheeks slightly tear stained as he says "y/n i've loved you with everything and more, more than i ever knew was possible. you taught me i deserved to be loved and you showed me how to live life to the fullest" as he continued you felt tears start to brim, jason was always more of an actions guy so these words meant everything to you

- the video was so intensely personal it had you openly crying at the end when jason smiled at the camera "hey love, you're probably crying right now - i know that because i love you beautiful. so, care to come back outside now?" the video ended and you got up, realizing what was about to happen

- at the end of your hallway was jason, dressed in a suit, his cheeks stained with tears like yours, holding out his hand for you

- trying not to fall apart you stumbled into his embrace while he kissed your head, pushing you back slightly to get on one knee with a cheesy grin

- "i didn't think i'd ever get to do this, you know i always think in the negative, but with you everything is good. so be my good, forever. be my better half, my favorite thing, my home, my girl, forever. marry me y/n" unable to speak through all the flooding emotions you just nodded, letting out an excited squeak as jason grabbed your hand, sliding a ring on the finger

- leading you into the dining room jason had whipped out his expert chef skills and made an amazing dinner, and the two of you spent the night reminiscing on old memories, hoping for amazing future moments, and just relaxing in each other's embrace

Tim Drake:

- tim is not smooth let's be real, and when you've been with him for all those years he physically cannot keep a secret from you so you knew something was up when he actually set aside 5 hours for a date night, uninterrupted

- it took about 3 tries to get dick to break and admit tim was planning on proposing that night, you expected it soon, neither of you were big on suprise public moments and were super open in communicating and had both agreed that this year was the best to finally get engaged, tim always wanted to make you feel safe and this would be no different so you weren't worried

- taking careful notice to apply only waterproof mascara you were ready for a tear filled night with the love of your life

- during the fancy dinner you were jittery and excited waiting for a ring in your pasta or a note under your napkin, but nothing, and tim was acting normal as ever, making you think he'd aborted the mission

- it was always fun having a private dinner with tim, he loved to rent out the roof of gotham building and gettting a private dinner served on top of the world, making you feel like the only person in the world

- as you finished cracking jokes, telling stories, and overall just loving each other's presence you got up and went to head down when tim grabbed your hand, pulling you into a hug whispering "ready for a little suprise my love?" while your breath caught in your chest as almost on cue a helicopter landed on the other side of the top of the building

- wind whipping around tim kept your hand in his, helping you in and securing you, putting on your headset and giving your cheek a quick peck 

- as the helicopter took off you saw gotham from god's eye view, watching as it got smaller, melting into the last few rays of sunlight, tim gave your hand a squeeze as he said "the view's almost as pretty as you y'know" with your favorite cheesy grin

- as the helicopter turned giving you a perfect view of the setting sun tim began his speech, pulling your hands into his, "y/n through every up and down you've been there, i always thought i wasn't wanted until i met you and i can never repay you for everything you've taught me, i'd give you the world if i could, but i think the next best thing is giving you me. in every moment i promise to be yours, your sidekick, your partner in crime, your secret keeper, and your lover. i will always be yours, no matter what. and tonight i'm asking you to be mine, will you marry me y/n?"

- you nodded vigorously as tim pulled out a velvet box, opening to take out a beautiful ring, slipping it on your finger while you pushed away tears

- the helicopter dropped you both off outside of gotham at one of jason's safe houses that tim had transformed into a little one night home, and it was far enough outside of gotham that you could see the stars, laying on the roof as tim listed off various constellations and you both whispered about your future together, hand in hand with your other half for the rest of your life

Damian Wayne:

- when damian told dick his plan to just ask you to marry him during patrol he got a whole lecture about the importance of making it a memorable moment and blah blah blah so damian really wanted to live up to this "life changing moment" where he's not even marrying you just asking you as if after all these years you'd suddenly say no

- so that's how you ended up packed into one of bruce's cars with titus and damiwn driving to a supposedly beautiful hiking trail

- you were genuinely concerned for damians mental health because every time there was traffic or titus needing a rest stop he looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel

- once there the hike was serene, the three of you trekking up a beautiful mountain surrounded by the fresh air

- during a particularly sweaty patch you lazily took off your shirt, hoping to get a little cooler, you normally trained in a sports bra and leggings anyway so it wasn't weird until damian refused to take his shirt off too. as you and titus sprinted forwards you teased dami "love bird i can see you sweating cmon!" but he continued to refuse and you let it go

- you'd both slowed down to a walking pace as you rounded to the top of the mountain, the view was beyond beautiful and you plopped down on the crest of the mountain, using damians lap as a pillow while titus sprawled across the both of you

- as damian mindlessly played with your hair, lightly tugging it as he stayed deep in thought you took a moment to really appriciate your boyfriend

- he's eyes shone and his jawline was slightly hardened in a way that shows he was busy in thought, your eyes traced down from his perfect lips to his neck, where you noticed a thin white string hanging around his neck slipping down behind his shirt. without thinking, and before dami could react, you tugged the string out of his shirt, a golden band with a perfect diamond met your eyes before damian could stop you from seeing it

- "d-damian is that what i think it is" you whispered, sitting up to face him while he blushed

- "beloved, i was trying to think of the words to say but you're always three steps ahead of me aren't you" he whispered, untying the string with ease and slipping the ring off of the string, he stared at the ring unable to make eye contact with you "everything i do is for you my love, and though i don't quite understand why cementing it in the eyes of a government is important, if it means i can love you for my entire life i will do anything. so please my love, my best friend, my favorite girl, marry me beloved" he finished, swallowing harshly to fight back the rogue feeling to cry

- you did not hold back. letting tears slip out while he put the ring on your finger you flung yourself into his arms and he relaxed in your embrace, titus beginning to lick your face clearing the tears while you giggled, truly on top of the world with damian, forever and always

a/n: these all got so sappy ahcowkfjr i'm such a fluff monster omg... anyways! i tried to keep them fun and interesting but i definitely air with damian on the side of thinking proposals are slightly overhyped and as an anxious bean i already get scared at the idea of everyone looking at you no matter how in love you are haha so all the proposals were kinda personal i hope that's okay lolzzz anywho! love you hope you enjoyed!

[hiskittyyywrites]

✧Birthday Sugar✧

Iwaizumi x F!reader NSFW

Warnings: daddy kink, kinda rough sex, semi public sex

MINORS!! DNI

a/n; First time writing a fic. Kinda nervous. Hello everyone! Welcome to my page! Here is my very FIRST fanfic and I'm so excited to share it with you all! Please enjoy and stay sweet 🍭

-His Kittyyy

________________

Hajime Iwaizumi. 37.  Owns 15 sports training facilities across California, including 1 in Tokyo so yeah, he’s dripping in money.

Most people know Iwa as a hard ass. Not the type to just hand out his cash to anyone.

But to Iwa, something about you made him wanna throw all his cash at you.

You both live together in his 6 bedroom modern house in L.A. You see the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets while lounging at the infinity pool.

You don’t ask for much but he loves to spoil you

Just last week he came to pick you up from work. As yall walk to the parking lot, he pulls out a pair of keys to a brand new BMW

“I saw it this morning and thought my baby girl could use a new whip”. You told him to take it back and, as usual, he rolled his eyes and shoved the keys in your hands. “Get in the car before I ruin that cute ass of yours in this parking lot instead of back at the house.”

The weekend before he whisked you away to Jamaica. He had a business meeting being held there for a possible new building. Plus he wanted to fuck you on the balcony of your hotel room while overlooking the Caribbean sea.

Buys you the most expensive gowns and dresses. He has to attend business-related dinners and parties so of course, he’s gonna wanna show you off. 

Always makes sure you have the best wines when you go out to dinner.

He knows you secretly love sapphires so he bought you a sapphire and diamond drop pendant on an 18k white gold chain for your birthday. He puts it on you and whispers in your ear “I see why you love sapphires so much, y/n. It looks fantastic against your skin.” He kissed your neck as he clasped the chain together. “I’ll have to remember to get you more…”

It's the evening of your birthday. You're wearing an expensive black, velvet maxi dress. It's off the shoulders. Deep V cut so it shows the curves of your breast nicely. The skirt of the dress has an M slit and you're wearing your favorite pair of dark blue stilettos. Of course, you're wearing your birthday pendant. Iwa wouldn't let you leave the house without it. 

Iwa is wearing a black suit with a blue tie so it matches your heels and pendant perfectly. The man has style and loves to match with you on dates. 

Iwa took you out to your favorite restaurant, Miro. From there he took you to a classy bar. The Varnish. This was his favorite and you remember he took you there on your first date. The bar is very dim with soft music flowing through the building. You found out once you're inside that he had rented the whole place out so you two could be alone. You had a few drinks then slowly danced in the middle of the dance floor. Jazz music swarming around you. "Did you have a great birthday, y/n?" "It was more than I could ever imagine!" You smiled brightly at him. He smirked. "I'm glad to hear that baby girl…" he pulls you in for a kiss as hands glide down from your hips to your ass "...now I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get out of here and get you out of this dress" His warm breath make you shiver as he whispered in your ear. You responded with a moan as he squeezed your ass. "I'll take that as a yes". He takes your wrist and drags you to the Escalade waiting for you. You both jump in the back and Iwa immediately pulls you onto his lap.

 As the driver takes off, Iwa latches his soft lips on your neck. You moan as his wet tongue traces the outline of your necklace. "Seriously baby girl, I'm gonna have you dripping in sapphires every day. We're going shopping tomorrow after brunch." As he bites down on your neck, you let out a moan. You feel him grow hard as you grind against him. He starts to trail light, wet kisses from your neck, down the deep V until he finds the curve of your left breast. He pulls down the top of your dress just enough so your breast bounces out. He immediately takes your left nipple into his mouth and his free hand rubs on your right nipple.

As you throw your head back in pleasure, Iwa lays you down across the back seat. He bites your nipple and you let out a staggered moan. You feel yourself growing wet as he grinds his hard-on against you. His hand slowly travels from your nipple to your soaking wet cunt. That's when he realized, you didn't have any underwear. "Baby girl. Were you expecting me to fuck you in public this even?" You blushed as the streets faded in and out of the vehicle. "I'm always prepared for anything, Daddy." Iwa smirked. He secretly loves it when you call him daddy. He starts to hike up your dress. He's nested in between your legs when he starts biting at your thighs. Leaving marks and wet kisses trailing up to your wet heat. 

He slides two cold fingers across your folds and you let out a loud gasp. "Pleaseee daddy…" you moaned out loud. "Please what?" He pressed back blowing at your throbbing pussy. You moaned and started wiggling your hip. Iwa frowned and slapped your thigh. "Now baby girl, I KNOW I taught you better than that. Use your words." You pouted at him. He started to pull away "You got 5 minutes until we're home. Better hurry up or I’ll just have to make you wait." You both locked eyes until you spoke up. "Please fuck me with your tongue, daddy." Iwa smirked and dipped back down to your heat. "Anything for the birthday girl," He said as his tongue flattened against your clit. You let out a breathy moan as his tongue slides in between your folds. Iwa immediately starts darting his tongue in and out of you. When he applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb, you thread your hands through his hair to push him deeper. "Hajime…" you moaned. Iwa makes eye contact with you. He knows exactly what you want. You always call him by his first name when you're about to cum. He slows down his pace. You whimper, "Hajimeeee please!" He stops his tongue work but his thumb made slow circles on your clit. "Now baby girl if you wanna cum, you know how to ask….properly." It was almost like he was staring into your soul, waiting for the response he was looking for. You let out a frustrating groan. "Please let me cum, daddy!" Iwa smirks. "Good girl." He lifts your legs onto his shoulders. His mouth connects back with your clit as he slips two fingers in your pussy. A loud moan escapes from your mouth. The way he's working his tongue and fingers right now is insane. You start to feel your stomach coil. You're right there on the edge. Iwa feels your pussy start to pulse around his fingers. He pumps faster. "That's it, baby girl! Cum on daddy's fingers! Get them all nice and wet for me!" His words were enough to end you over the edge. ''FUCK! IM CUMMING!" You scream as your juices sprayed out from you. Iwa removed his fingers from inside you. He sucks your juices off from his fingers with a moan. "Hmm baby girl, you've always had the sweetest taste. Taste yourself." He brings you into a searing hot kiss. Forces his tongue into your mouth so you could have a taste for yourself. 

As you're coming down from your high, the driver pulls up to the house. Iwa hands him a $100 bill and the older man exits the vehicle. Arms a little wobbly, you try to sit up only to be shoved back down. You look at Iwa puzzled but he was too busy unbuckling his belt. "Sorry baby but daddy decided he's just gonna fuck you in the back seat of this Escalade." Before you could even protest, he pulled your dress over your head so you were completely naked in front of him. The moonlight made your skin glow as it peeked through the sunroof. "You're so beautiful, y/n. Even in the moonlight. No one compares to you." You pull in for a soft kiss as he caressed your cheek. You feel his meaty grath slowly slide into you. You moaned into his mouth. Your cunt was still soaking wet so it was easy for him to slip into you. 

Iwa pulls back from the kiss but keeps eye contact with you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight around me. You feel amazing." He starts to pick up his pace. He pounding you so hard the car is literally shaking. "Oh my god, Hajime!! Fuck I'm gonna cum again." "Fuck just hold on a little longer. I'm almost there baby girl." He flips you around so that you're on your hands and knees. Your face pressed against the cool window. Iwa trusts back in you, fucking you from behind. He gives you a slap on your ass. You cry out from the sting. "Fuck baby...throw it back on daddy.' You start thrusting back on his cock. Your pussy is so wet you can hear the juices spilling out of you. Iwa moans as he grabs onto your hips. "You're gonna make me cum in a second." You asked if he was gonna pull out. He smirked and leaned in towards your ear. "Absolutely not beautiful. We're gonna test out that expensive birth control I just paid for! See if it works against my swimmers." He bites down on your shoulder as he wraps his arm around and rubs your clit. "Hajime I'm cumming!" You scream out his name in pleasure. "Cum for me again. Squeeze that wet cunt around me!" That was enough to push you over again for the second time tonight. After a couple more thrusts, Iwa released inside you. You felt his warm cum coat the inside of you. There was much, it started dripping out of you.

You clasped along the back seat.  Exhausted from all the pleasure. Iwa pulled your naked body back into his. He wrapped his suit jacket around you and help you close to his body. Whispering sweet nothings, rubbing you back while pampering your face with soft kisses. You soon drifted to sleep.

Iwa carried you out the car to the house bridal style. He whispered to you "I hope you had a wonderful birthday baby girl. Don't worry. Daddy is still taking you shopping tomorrow after brunch."

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Forward - happyaspie

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated T || Word Count 2978

Summary: Against all odds, Peter Parker and Michelle Jones started dating during the summer between the eleventh and twelfth grade and remained a couple all the way through their college Careers. But it was during their third year that Peter proposed and they married the following summer, high school sweethearts. Then it became abundantly clear that even though they loved each other, neither of them had been entirely prepared for the challenges of marriage. Let alone one with the further complication of superheroism.

Special thanks to @iron-mum for reading this over for me and keeping me on task!

Except below the cut

Against all odds, Peter Parker and Michelle Jones started dating during the summer between the eleventh and twelfth grade and remained a couple all the way through their college careers. They had both chosen to continue their education in New York. Peter at Columbia so that he didn’t have to stray too far from the city he’d sworn to protect and Michelle at New York University so that she could stay close to the friends that she’d never imagined herself having. But despite the fact that they didn’t share a campus, they remained as close as ever. For four years, nightly phone calls and spending whatever free time they had to themselves, together was part of their regular routine.

During their third year, on one of their weekend visits home, Peter proposed. He had planned it out with zeal, packing a picnic lunch and holding it one hand while the fingers of his other, interlocked with Michelle's as they walked through a little known park. And when they approached the end of their slightly off-trail hike, a beautiful small clearing and two trees with the words ‘MJ, will you marry me? ’ neatly webbed between them came into view. It’s corny and sweet, and such a ‘Peter’ thing to do that she said ‘yes' without any thought at all.

They Married the following summer, high school sweethearts, full of youthful naivety and what, at the time, seemed like an inexhaustible supply of optimism. They moved into a modest apartment in Queens. One that was close to May but not too far for Michelle to continue to commute to NYU, in her pursuit of a further degree in law. Peter, however, chose not to return to Columbia, content with a bachelor's degree in electrical engineering. Tony had encouraged him to keep going but having moved away from the dorms and back into the familiar neighborhood, he couldn’t bring himself to put in the hours. The city was calling to him with a pull that he couldn’t ignore, and he found himself spending more and more time swinging about in an effort to quiet the constant thrum of his spider senses.  

[Continue Reading on AO3]

@sdottkrames

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 29. Borrowed Time

‘Harder days are coming. The loan of borrowed time will be due on the horizon. (...)’ - Ingeborg Bachmann

The most northern village in Savoy was Valois-Narcisse, so small that it wasn’t actually reachable by any form of public transportation. Not a lot of people in Savoy even knew Valois-Narcisse by name; Bayona, on the East Coast, was the closest reference point, a beach village considered an under-rated touristic spot. Historically, Valois-Narcisse was populated by sheep and eggplant farmers, not a very sexy niche, and it was still how the village’s only export to local and regional farmer’s markets.

For the following few weeks after Ascot, every time Harry tried to talk about it, his phone corrected the name to ‘value narcissism’, so by the time I drove past the small, rusted iron sign that read its name, I couldn’t help but smile.

One of the reasons Valois-Narcisse was so abandoned was that it was mostly situated up a mountain. Not at the top of the mountain, exactly, although parts of it were. The village just stretched along the mountain, with most of its commerce and eateries, however scarce, down below, and the houses built towards the top, including a couple of small hostels and, lucky for us, one very odd Airbnb.

The houses, bridges and streets were all built of stone and wood, with wildflowers and weeds growing in between, and across the mountain, beyond the village, stood the vast, beautiful Celtic Sea. On days of low tide, locals swore they could see the outline of the Irish coast on the horizon, at least according to the description on Airbnb.

But even if that was an exaggeration, we wouldn’t have cared, because what drew Harry and I to Valois-Narcisse that weekend was how desolate and empty it was. Paparazzi wouldn’t dream of finding us there, so it was there that we scheduled our first getaway. Our first secret rendezvous. Or, as Harry kept reminding me, our first date.

We had been texting non-stop since I left his house after Ascot, about what happened, and also about all things around us, what we were doing or not, and a lot of nothing. It was over text that we made the plans to meet in Vallois-Narcisse for the first time since getting together, it was over text that we discussed the latest of the Adrien saga (he’d been seen out in a club with the singer-girlfriend and their friends), and it was over text that he informed me that since we never got to go on our date the previous year, during our weekend in Vallois-Narcisse, he was going to pull all the stops to ‘take me out’’.

“Are we going out for dinner?” I asked, in our Airbnb, while I got ready in the middle of the afternoon.

“Not really.” He replied, from the small sitting room right outside our suite. “And stop trying to guess, just get ready.”

He had refused to tell me anything about the date, claiming it was supposed to be as real as the real one would have been and in the real one, it would have been a surprise.

“It’s very hard to get ready when I don’t know what we’re doing.” I sighed. “How casual am I supposed to look?”

“Casual.” He replied, unhelpful. “Maybe wear sneakers.”

“Well, that’s one decision off my conscience.” I mumbled to myself, staring at my options laid out in the bed, my small suitcase open on the floor.

I had chosen a preppy, plaid short skirt in shades of white and blue, and I had all the tops I had brought in the bed as possible options. For shoes, I removed the flats from the lineup, and put on my white Nike’s, turning around to look at the tops again.

“Are you ready? It’s time.” Harry called from the other room.

“Just–! Just give me ten minutes!” I shouted back, nervously.

I realized how ridiculous it was. It was just a gesture – a sweet, romantic, gesture – to have a first date when we had already slept together more than once. More than twice. The previous night, for instance. It made no sense, it was just sweet. So there was no reason to be nervous, and I knew that. Rationally, I knew that.

Still, as I looked at the clothes I brought, I hated every single one. I threw the Jurassic Park tee back into the suitcase – too casual –, and looked at the Kimono top, a greenish blue shade, long, loose sleeves, a nice, laidback fit to contrast with the skirt. The other two options, a tight, square neckline, navy blue, crop top, and a loose, green, blouse with spaghetti sleeves, both matched the skirt and were casual enough, but seemed more appropriate for the weather.

“…It’s been ten minutes.” Harry’s voice came back from the other room, patiently cautious.

“Coming!”

In one panicked move, I grabbed the green, strappy blouse and put it on. I rushed to the bathroom and quickly applied some tinted sunblock to my face. I wanted to apply actual makeup, but convinced myself it was silly. He’d seen me without makeup many times already. It wasn’t a real first date, no matter how big the knot on my stomach was, so I just grabbed a pair of earrings, my every-day necklace, and sunglasses, and burst through the door in a hurry, ready to run as if we had an actual reservation, even though I was perfectly aware that no restaurant in this village town worked like that.

“Okay, I’m ready, let’s go!” I said, looking at him, who startled up from the couch and looked me up and down, appreciatively.

“Mary, wow.” He smiled, slowly, approaching me with careful steps. “You look…”

“What are you doing?!” I laughed, blushing. “You saw me five minutes ago. I look the same. I just put on a different, very casual, outfit.”

“Will you just pretend with me? Please?” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “We never got to have our first date, just… let’s just pretend we’re a normal couple today.”

I shook my head, grinning. “…Fine.”

He took another step towards me and, from seemingly thin air, produced a white daisy.

I sighed. I wanted to say ‘really?’, but I bit down my sarcasm, and took my flower.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful!” I said, adding a little more emotion than necessary.

He sighed heavily, making me laugh. “Come on, ma’am, we have a date.”

“Yes, sir.”

Our Airbnb was in a secluded property at the end of a dead-end granite driveway off of the main road. Instead of taking that direction, however, we walked towards the hike trail in the opposite direction. I wanted to ask what was on the huge backpack he’d brought, but I knew he was just waiting for the opportunity to tell me it was a surprise, so I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He announced we had arrived when we reached a clearing amongst the trees. The grass and weeds were a little high, but nothing that made it impossible for us to sit down and enjoy ourselves. Especially because, as I soon discovered, Harry had a picnic blanket in his backpack. Because Harry had a whole picnic in his backpack.

“A picnic?!” I asked, excited.

“You like picnics?” He smiled, setting the blanket down.

“I love picnics!” I said, excitedly. “Don’t go to many, because… you know, outside, not very safe.”

“Yes, I do know.” He nodded, going through his bag, “Fortunately this place has enough privacy for us.”

“How did you even know to come here?”

“I googled it.” He replied, simply.

From his bag, he took out a bottle of sparkly wine and two ceramic looking plastic plates, which he sat down at opposite ends of the blanket. He then placed two linen napkins, folded, on top, with a set of cutlery over each.

“You thought this through.” I noticed.

“Of course I did.” He shrugged, removing a piece of paper from his pocket and reading it quickly. “I do have visual aids, though.”

In his bag, he also had acrylic Tupperware with a number of cheeses, which he then laid out on a wooden board. In another container, he had brought an assortment of cut veggies with a smaller cup inside, with ranch, which he remembered was my favorite. For our main course, he dramatically revealed large sandwiches from his favorite London restaurant, perfectly packaged and cut, for easier consumption. And for dessert, there were also a number of fruits and two small pots with what looked like cheesecakes.

“This is… incredible.”

He seemed the most flattered I had ever seen him.

“Thank you!” He said, folding his note quickly.

“Can I see that?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s just a little reminder of where things go–Oh–okay.”

I walked over to him and grabbed the paper before he could return it to his pocket; it was a list of instructions on how to set up the picnic, in his own handwriting. It even said ‘transfer cheese to wooden board’ and included a drawing of how to set up the napkins on top of the plates, with the cutlery on top of the napkins.

“This is… so sweet.” I gushed, watching him blush. “Where did you get this from?”

“I googled picnics.” He shrugged. “Well, first I googled first date ideas. Then saw the picnic idea and went on google street view to see if this place would be good for one. Then googled how to do a picnic.” He shrugged, grabbing the paper back and folding it. “Not a big deal.”

It was the way he blushed slightly and still made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal that he put in that much effort into giving us one afternoon where we could pretend we were a normal couple, untouched by tragedy. That’s what made my heart swoon for him.

I didn’t even have time to kiss him, though. He was so adamant to continue as if nothing was the problem that he just held my hand and sat down, pulling me with him.

“So…” He started, smiling. “So good that we are finally able to do this.”

“It is.” I agreed, amused.

“Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

“So, tell me, what is it that you do?” I laughed so loudly he reluctantly joined me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just too weird.”

“Come on!” He complained. “Like a normal first date, just go with it.”

“Okay, okay…” I sighed, still smiling. “What I do for a living… I… I am a lawyer.” He gave me an annoyed look. “What? If I’m talking to someone who doesn’t know what I do for a living, I’m not gonna tell them.”

“Fair. But be honest.”

I sighed. “Alright. I have a law degree from Harvard, which I’m really proud of, and I mostly have experience with copyright law… But I am not practicing right now.”

“Really? How so?”

I gave him an annoyed look this time. “I… I made a career change last year towards working on my… family business.”

He grinned. “How interesting.”

“Thank you. It’s been very rewarding.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t an easy choice to make.”

My smile faltered slightly. “It wasn’t fully my choice… But I’m happy with it, regardless.” I added, to assuage his reaction.

He nodded, silently. After a while, he added, “Are you?”

I shifted the position of my legs under me, using the time it took to think it through.

“Yes. Yes? I think so.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t really stopped to figure that out… Not exactly a priority.”

“It should be.”

I smiled. Not knowing how to change the subject, I reached out to the platter next to me and grabbed a piece of cheese.

“This is really good.” I added.

He smiled, accepting of the change of subject.

“Alright, time for you to ask something.”

“Oh. Okay… Uhm.” I finished chewing slowly as I thought about it. “Where… are you from? Originally?”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m from England.”

“Oh, really? Interesting.” I said, overly impressed. “Where in England?”

“London.” He added, grinning. “I was born and raised in Central London.”

“Fancy.” I added, appreciatively, making him chuckle. “Do you like living there?”

He considered this. “…not particularly.”

I stopped chewing. “Really?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know… I mean, I liked it, yes, in that… generic, mandatory way you always feel you must like the place you are from. Like, I will defend it if I must. But… if I had a choice, would I want to spend the rest of my life there? I’m not sure I would.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Well.”

“Go on.” He said, grinning.

“Oh, I just mean… I love New York, it was one of the best experiences of my life living there for a year after law school, even if those memories are tainted with the presence of my ex… But as much as I love New York, and a lot of other places I’ve been to… coming home to Savoy is just…” I shrugged. “I don’t know, I couldn’t imagine staying away forever, you know? It’s home.”

He nodded. “I don’t know, I just don’t have that sense of attachment to England. To my family and friends, sure. But to the place? I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

We were silent for a while, eating cheese and drinking wine, and pondering over the words said. Then he perked up again, cheerily, and said,

“Tell me about your family.”

I gave the sky an eye roll. “…Fine.”

“Wow. So aggressive.” He noted, chuckling.

“Shut up.” I said. “Okay. Well, I’m the oldest of three. My brother was the middle child, but he passed away last year. He was three years younger than me and we got along really well. My sister is about eleven years younger than me, so we are not as close, though we’ve gotten a lot closer recently.”

“That’s nice to hear.” He smiled.

“My mother was born in Northern Savoy, her father is French, her mother is Savoyen. My grandfather has a property management and consultancy business, and my grandmother was always a stay-at-home mother. My mother only has one sister, Aunt Katherine, who’s now taken over my grandfather’s business, though her husband, Merlin, who is a Lord, seems to be making most of the calls. That is the root of most of the disagreements between my mother and Aunt, currently.”

“Tough.” He noted.

“Aunt Katherine has two children, Camille is the eldest, she’s been married to Hamilton Costeau for a few years, he’s a hotshot nightclub owner from the capital, and they’re expecting their first child currently. Her brother, Adam, is a freelance graphic designer, he’s married to a writer named Marcia. They’re probably my most normal relatives except that they’re wild, crazy hippies.”

He laughed. “How so?”

“They had a fully vegan wedding in a bowling alley and they live in a boat.”

He almost spit out his wine laughing. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna need more information.”

“There’s not really that much more to it. To be fair, the vegan menu was actually pretty good and bowling is fun. Haven’t been bowling since, so it’s a good memory. We don’t see them a lot, because of the boat.”

“When you say boat…?”

“Not a yatch or anything like that. It’s one of those small, house boats, like in Amsterdam? Except they actually use it to sail around since they’re both freelance and can work from anywhere.”

“Honestly… that sounds great.”

“They’re cool.” I nodded. “Let’s see… on my father’s side, he has two older sisters. Marilou Bondy is in her sixties, her husband is a Vice Admiral in the navy, and they have two kids in their mid-thirties. Zaccharie, married to Amber, they have two kids who are three and five years-old. Zacc is a business manager in a shipping company, his wife has a graduate degree in Psychology, but now is a stay-at-home mom. Zacc’s sister, Heloise, is CEO of a multinational company, and her husband is a doctor. They’re by far my relatives who’ve got it together the most.”

“Sounds like it, those are some big jobs. They have kids?”

“A two year old, adorable. All my cousin’s children are. We have good genes.” He laughed. “Let me see, what else? My father’s second oldest sister, Stephanie, married a Lord of Luxembourg, uncle Ellis, so they live there. They have three kids, Josephine, Klaus, and Catarina.”

“Klaus! I know Klaus!” He said, happily, “Love Klaus. He’s fun!”

“Yes, he’s… very you.” I noted, amused. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“Oh, he met a friend of mine during gap year, so my friend introduced us at a festival later on.”

“Of course.” I nodded. “As you know, he works for an investment firm. His youngest sister, Catarina, is twenty-three, she took a few years after school to figure it out, so she’s still finishing her degree. And the oldest, Josephine, is an interior designer, and she’s actually getting married next month, to Marius Allard, who owns a network of gyms in Luxembourg.”

“Royal wedding?” He asked.

“A small one, but yes.”

“You going?”

 ���Yes.” I smiled. “Anyway. Then, there’s my father, the middle child, oldest brother, and they also have two youngest brothers. Or, had. Adrien’s father died many years ago of lymphoma, so now Adrien is next in line for the throne after Lourdes. You know him, so no need to go into it.”

“How is he doing in New York, by the way?” He asked, pouring us more wine. “I read he and the singer were seen partying in a boat?”

“For the fourth of July, yes.” I nodded. “My father and the advisors are… how can I say it? Pissed.” He chuckled. “Celebrating an American holiday, half naked, in a boat, with a bunch of celebrities, including his pink-haired girlfriend… they want him to come back.”

“Of course they do.”

“Adrien has a younger sister, Natalie, who’s my favorite.” I said, gushing. “She’s awesome, sweet, positive, always down for a good chat, though not big into parties or crowds–”

“So, the opposite of Adrien?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “Nat is getting her masters in Sorbonne, she studies literature and communications. Their mom, Princess Annette, has been a working royal for many years. Finally, my youngest uncle, Prince Albert, is also a working royal. He divorced his wife about five years ago, which was a huge scandal at the time, but we’ve managed to ride it out, and now everyone gets along fine. His ex-wife is even still a working royal, as well.”

“Woah.” He said, brows raised. “We could learn a thing or two from about how to handle divorce in a healthy way.”

“Agreed.” I said, teasing. “They have three kids. Maryanne is eighteen, currently serving her minimum military course post-graduation. Her brother James is sixteen, he’s in boarding school in Switzerland, and Sarah, who’s ten, attends the same boarding school as Lourdes… and that’s it. Unless you want to hear about my extended family, in which case we might be here a while.”

He nodded. While he digested the info-dump I’d just given him, I took the time to finish my wine and have some veggies and ranch.

“Question.” He said, unwrapping our sandwiches, “Why did you only mention two or three working royals?”

“My father’s oldest sisters lost their title upon marriage, and Aunt Stephanie lives in Luxembourg. Aunt Marilou and her husband do work sometimes, but that’s mostly because of her husband’s Admiral job. So, it’s mostly my father and his brothers who work for the Crown. Since Uncle James died, Adrien and his mom work, too, although he’s in New York now. His sister is still in school, so she’s excused. And that leaves uncle Albert and his ex-wife, and their kids are too young. There’s also some cousins of my father who are working royals, though they also have private careers.”

He nodded. “So that’s why you said you would have to become a working royal eventually.”

“Yep. That’s why a lot of the burden was already mine before, and also why I knew it would eventually be mine again. I just… I had hoped I’d have some time in-between.”

“Well,” he took the cheese platter and moved it to the side, leaning in closer to me. “You have time now.”

“I do, don’t I?” I smiled. “What should I do with it?”

“I have an idea.” He grinned, leaning in the rest of the way to touch his lips to mine.

His hand cupped my jaw as we kissed, my skin warm either from the sun or his touch. I put my glass down, mindlessly, not caring when I felt it fall to the grass. I slid my hand across his hair and laid back down, pulling him on top of me.

It was just one afternoon of borrowed time, but it was ours.

— ---- —

It was a cloudy summey day, not great weather for a royal wedding, but it would have to do because Princess Josephine Anne-Marie Elyse of Luxembourg was ready to become Mrs. Marius Allard.

Normally, we wouldn’t all go to a royal wedding just because we were royals, but we were family this time, so we arrived, my family and I, in Luxembourg two nights before. The rehearsal dinner went without a hitch, and so the following morning we got ready in our hotel and waited with other foreign family members for the shutles that would drive us to the church.

I had changed Harry’s contact on my phone to Hedwig – a name I took from Harry Potter – just in case someone saw me texting him, which was bound to happen as were texting so much more often. This didn’t stop my heart from nearly freezing when I received a photo from him. It was a mirror selfie showcasing him in his ceremony military uniform, black and red, with medals to his chest. The text read: ‘beautiful day for a wedding’.

I sighed; A few weeks prior to this, Harry had excitedly informed me during a late-night facetime call, that his family had assigned him to represent them to Josephine’s wedding.

“Why?!” I asked then, astonished.

“Ouch.” He said, sarcastic. “I’m great at weddings.”

“I’m not saying you’re not.” I said, rolling my eyes. “And of course I want to see you! But… my whole family is going to be there! Isn’t your father supposed to do these things? Or your uncle?”

“My father will be busy, my uncle was going to go, yes, but turns out his son has pneumonia so he’s staying put.” He shrugged. “And since I know Klaus, they figured I would be more familiar to the bride and groom than my brother.”

I was quiet, biting my lower lip nervously.

“What? This is good! I’m excited I get to see you all dolled up so soon!”

But I couldn’t get my excitement to match his – and I tried. It was just too risky, not to mention it felt like the day would be torture. To be near him again and have to pretend I didn’t want to hold his hand? Kiss his lips? Rip the clothes right off his body? It was too much.

Sighing, I went to the bathroom and discreetly took my own mirror selfie showcasing my light pink dress with a darker pink on a slit falling from my hips, and my large disc fascinator, and texted it to him.

‘It is unfair how perfect you look’, he replied. It made me smile, and I tried to hold on to that feeling as we rode to the church.

As family, we were close to the last group to arrive, so when I walked down the red carpeted entrance towards the church behind my parents, all I could think was that Harry must already be inside.

We trotted behind, stopping to salute the military battalion in formation under the country’s flag – a Luxembourg tradition. Military personnel saluted, civilians lowered their heads or curtsied. Since mandatory minimum service was still considered service, I saluted with my father, as mom and Lourdes curtsied.

Inside, we were ushered to the front of the church by a palace aide. Because of the odd number of seats, our parents and I were seated one row in front of Lourdes, who found herself sitting between, of all people, Adrien and Harry.

My parents greeted Adrien, who was there fresh from a plane from New York, and then looked at Harry, who received from then a curt nod before they turned to the front.

"How's...? Uhm?" I started, as my cousin kissed my cheeks.

"Sienna?" He asked, sighing. "Her name is Sienna."

"Right. Sienna."

"She's good. She's recording a new album." He replied.

"How... fortuitous." I nodded, as he took his seat again.

Before I sat down, Harry managed to give me a sneaky wink. I blushed, and turned to the front.

We seemed to be the last frontier between family and important guests, as next to Harry sat other royals and in front of us, were mostly empty seats that filled quickly after we arrived.

Just as the music started, Lourdes, who'd been chatting excitedly between Adrien and Harry, sighed loudly and stage-whispered,

"Ah, damn, I'll barely be able to see Josephine from here." She complained. “Margueritte’s hat is too big.”

As calm as I could, I turned to her, taking the care to make myself sound annoyed. "Do you want to trade seats?"

"Really?" She asked, "Is that allowed?"

I looked at my parents, who were already discreetly looking at us.

"Is it?" I asked.

"I believe so." My father said.

Mom leaned closer to me. "Are you sure you don't mind, chérie?"

I smiled, already getting to my feet. "It's fine. At least this way she'll be quiet."

"I heard that." Lourdes said as she passed me by.

I took her seat and crossed my legs at my ankles, holding my head high facing forward, pretending I didn't see the grin on Harry's face. 

Josephine looked breathtaking; lace bodice, three quarter sleeves, flowy, tulle, ball gown skirt, hair pinned back in a low hairdo, a long veil falling down from her family’s tiara – a Luxembourg tiara –, matching diamond earrings. It was difficult to take my eyes from her, except from one thing.

Harry was touching my hand. His fingers very gently grazed mine, slowly stretching until our middle fingers were enlaced. It was such a simple gesture. Such a light touch. But so many people around who were not meant to know about us. My heart beat faster on my chest and I felt my skin warmer as I remembered all the other ways in which that hand had touched me. I risked a look at him, who stared ahead determinedly.

As the song came to a slow end, I pulled my hand from his, startled, thinking for some reason the silence would make us more visible.

The priest began to speak in a monotone, calm voice up front. By my side, Harry adjusted himself in his seat, leaving his left knee to lightly, but very deliberately, touch mine.

I bit down a grin, sighing. Thinking two could play this game, I reached for the neckline of my dress with my hand, adjusting it slightly as if to fix something, but ‘accidentally’ pulling it down sligthly. As it was V shaped, this enlarged my cleavage only slightly, especially as I crossed my arms over my lap, pulling my breasts together.

I stared ahead, ignoring Harry, but I felt his leg press harder against mine.

“Beautiful wedding, isn’t it?” I whispered to him, pointing my chest in his direction.

“Is this another catholic tradition?” He whispered very lightly leaning closer to me. I smiled, blushing.

I looked down at my lap, fiddling with the program. I had no idea where we were on it, which is why I startled again as suddenly everyone rose from their seats to sing another hymn. I followed, pulling my dress up nervously, but I did leave my arm down hoping Harry would touch my hand again.

It took him what felt like the whole song, but then he finally did. I allowed my own fingers to caress his this time, missing being able to touch him, feeling my palms sweating as the thought.

When we sat down again, and someone else started speaking, he leaned down slowly and asked, whispery:

“Truth or dare?”

I sighed dramatically, and gave him a stern look, hiding my amusement.

“Truth.” I mouthed.

He grinned, and leaned down again. “What were you thinking about during the song?”

What he was asking was, of course, ‘what were you thinking about while our hands touched secretly in the middle of this very full church?’

I leaned to him, but starting ahead, said, “About how good it felt last time you fingered me–”

He sighed, heavily, leaning away from me, adjusting his tie as if it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn’t allow me to ask it back, his eyes stared firmly and frustratingly ahead for the rest of the – very long – service.

When Josephine and Marius walked out as husband and wife, we all waited for their close families to follow and then to the aides to guide us away at the right time. Harry continued to deliberately look away from me at all times. 

We were ushered back into the shuttles with the rest of the family, everyone talking excitedly about their favorite moments of the ceremony. I kept my comments to the dress, the only part I remembered in detail.

The reception was held in the palace; I didn’t see Harry again for a very long time. No one seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, other than Lourdes who asked if I was mad at him because we seemed to have ‘barely spoken’.

As all the guests were in their seats, I finally found Harry in a distant table with other foreign royals who weren’t family. There were speeches, there were dances, there were entrées and champagne, and Harry’s eyes continued to find mine whenever I looked at him. Luckily, I was able to distract myself by my family grilling Adrien about his inappropriate girlfriend.

Conversation was the sound of the night in between courses when I decided to find a bathroom to re-apply my lipstick.

“If you pass by a waiter, would you ask for someone to bring me more water?” Lourdes asked as I left.

“I’m not your maid.”

“Really? It’ll cost nothing–”

“Shut up, of course I’ll do it.”

She rolled her eyes in response.

I was distracted, looking around for a waiter, when my eyes found Harry’s again. This time, too intense to look away. He put his hands in his pocket and pointedly walked out of the hall.

I sighed. It was too idiotic a choice to follow him. Yet, there I was. My feet moving of their own accord.

He walked off down the hallway, calm as can be, stopping only to ask an aide for directions. Down another hallway, he turned to the right, before confidently opening a door, turning back to lock his eyes on mine, and walk inside.

I bit my lower lip and looked around. There was a staff member walking off in the distance, but no one around other than that. I didn’t know if that would last. I walked to the door,  and casually looked around one more time. No one was watching. No one around. I took in a deep breath, and walked inside.

I quickly closed the door behind me, but I had no time to notice anything else. Harry’s lips were on mine, strongly, arms framing me in place against the door. One hand turned the lock, the other traveled up and down my side, his heavy breath on my skin.

“That was not okay.” He said, voice low, anguished, against my neck. “Back there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, innocently. “All I remember is a lovely ceremony.”

He grinned against my neck in between kisses. “Fuck you.”

"It's true.”

“You liked when I fingered you, right?” He asked, lightly biting my earlobe. “Maybe I should do it again, then.”

My whole body trembled at the thought of going back outside, pretending nothing had happened, still pulsating with his touch on me.

“…maybe you should.” I said, weakly, feeling his large hand grasp my breast. “Right here. Right now.”

“…that would be really stupid, now, wouldn’t it?” He asked, reaching down for the hem of my dress, pulling it upwards. “We wouldn’t want to be caught… what would they think?”

“It would be such a scandal.” I agreed, feeling his hands now grip my thighs, pulling me up in one quick move.

He pinned against the wall, legs around his waist, leaving me in the perfect position to feel him thrusting his hardened dick against my crotch.

He touched his forehead to mine, and grinned.

“You’re fucking torture, Your Royal Highness.”

I grinned, happily, wrapping my legs tighter around him.

“You like it.”

He smiled in response, his hands rounded my thighs to reach below in between my legs, finding a path under my wet underwear.

“I do.” He confessed, touching me like it was the very first time. “I like it a lot.”

--- ---- ---

[A/N: Well. This was a lot. LOL what do you think??? A lot of...stuff coming so I wanted to take a chapter for happiness only. Also, I promise all that family tree stuff is important. THANK YOU FOR READING AND SORRY I’M LATE! Have a grat week! Next chapter: invictus games! harry’s birthday! MM and Harry get careless... tune in to find out what happens ;) ]

[here4theheartbreak]

Spring Fever (MinJoon)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: minjoon (Jimin x Namjoon) ✩ Genre(s): fluff

✩ Rating: General ✩ Tags: fluff, getting together, self confidence issues

✩ Summary: Spring fever is a real thing, and Jimin is really sick of it.

✩ A/N: Written for @chimknj​ for the drabble requests, prompt #14: Vernorexia (romantic mood inspired by spring - lit. spring fever)

✩ Word Count: ~2.6k

“Did you hear that Hoseok and Yoongi started dating yesterday?” Taehyung asked, tossing the magazine he’d been skimming onto the floor. He flopped onto his back, letting his head hang over the edge of the bed.

Jimin rolled his eyes from his spot on the floor, back against his dresser. “Fucking shocker. They’ve been eye fucking for two months.”

Taehyung scowled. “What crawled up your ass? I thought you’d be happy for them.”

Jimin sighed, closing his eyes. “I am. I’m just… I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I am. They’re a cute couple. Go right along well with you and Jin.”

Taehyung’s scowl shifted to a pout. He crawled off the bed and over to Jimin, sitting next to him. “Are you jealous of Jin, Jiminie? Because you know you don’t have to be. You’re my best friend.”

“’M not jealous of Jin.” He muttered. “Not like that.”

“But you are? Kinda then?”

“And of you. And Hobi, and Yoongi. And every other fucking person suddenly coming up with a lover.” Jimin wrapped his arms around his knees, putting his chin on them. “It’s stupid. I hate this stupid season with the dumb flowers and the long days and the picnics.” He made a small ‘hmph’ noise and sunk his face into his arms.

“Ahh,” Taehyung said with a soft understanding. ��Jimin… You don’t have to be lonely.”

“Easy for you to say.” He looked up at Taehyung. “You and Jin have only been dating for a month and it’s pretty fucking clear you’re soulmates. He chose you even though he got teased for liking someone so much younger. He is head over heels for you, and I’m sure Yoongi’s gonna be the same with Hobi. Nobody wants me. I’m just the ugly, angry little person tagging along with the beautiful ones.”

“Hey!” Taehyung snapped, and Jimin startled, looking at him.

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that. You’re beautiful Jimin. Your dancing is phenomenal and you’re so clever and caring. You’re a great listener and you defend your friends with your whole heart. You get angry but it’s usually for good reason. Just because you have a temper doesn’t mean you’re unworthy of love. And you aren’t tagging along with us. I resent that. You’re just as much a part of our friend group as everyone else.”

Jimin lowered his gaze again. “I’m normally not bugged by this, you know? It just feels like lately… Even Taemin is talking about that girl he’s into. Everybody is finding their love and I’m still sitting here alone.”

“It’s Spring,” Taehyung shrugged as he spoke, “romance is in the air, that kind of crap… But you aren’t helpless, Jimin. If you want a lover, why not go out and find them? I know you like someone.”

“He doesn’t like me like that, you know it.”

“Have you ever asked?”

“Namjoon is way too good for me,” Jimin argued. This wasn’t a new argument; he’d been in love with their mutual friend for nearly a year now. And every time Taehyung brought up asking him out, the excuses flowed like water from Jimin’s pretty lips.

“Namjoon is an idiot who trips over air and burns water,” Taehyung argued.

“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s smarter than you,” Jimin grumped, and Taehyung smirked.

“You’re so so head over heels for him and you can’t see it. You can’t see him either. I swear, Jimin… They say people can’t see the forest for the trees, but you’re opposite. You’re too busy staring at the whole damn forest and the storm clouds moving in another direction to notice the beauty of the redwood right in front of you.” He sighed. “And it is one… Beautiful specimen. Tall and broad and just….”

“Dude, you have a boyfriend,” Jimin said. Taehyung grinned.

“And even with one of those I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of a gorgeous young redwood in a forest of box elders.”

“Would you stop comparing Namjoon to a fucking tree?!” Jimin cried, laughing at the absurdity of it.

Taehyung pouted innocently. “Namjoon. Namu. I see no difference. And you don’t see the reality in front of you.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? The redwood’s gonna fall for the boab tree?”

“Well, considering those two species don’t even exist in the same place, no. But the redwood might appreciate the beautiful foxglove growing around the base of his trunk. Deadly and stunning… But worth admiring, if you’d just give them a chance.” Taehyung reached out and stroked Jimin’s cheek. “You look down on yourself so much, Jimin. But you’re so worth it. If you’d just give yourself a chance… And if you’d give Namjoon a chance.”

Jimin shook his head, opting to stay silent. He knew he’d lose any argument about this with Taehyung; it wasn’t worth fighting it. Taehyung sighed. He elbowed Jimin lightly.

“Wanna play a game?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin agreed, relieved he dropped the subject. But even as they sat on the bed and bickered over who was taking the most loot in their video game, the chipper chirping of the birds outside, and the cool breeze wafting in the scent of plum and cherry blossoms left an ache of lonely longing in Jimin’s heart.

***

‘Do you wanna go hiking with me today?’

Jimin chewed his lip, staring at the text. It was innocuous; not like Namjoon had never invited him places before. They were friends. But it felt so different. Probably something to do with the discussion he and Taehyung had had only a few days before, and the incessant feeling that Jimin was being slapped in the face with others’ happiness. He considered declining, if only to save himself the heartache when the inevitable happy, sappy couple would come by them on the hiking trail. But the opportunity to hang out with Namjoon was – as always – too damn good to pass up. He loved spending time with Namjoon, especially out in nature. Namjoon loved nature, and Jimin loved seeing it.

‘Sure – what time?’ He responded back.

The two texted back and forth for a few minutes, deciding the logistics of their planned outing, before Jimin rose to dress. It was something casual, just between friends. Just a regular old hike. He didn’t need his nice shorts or his cute t-shirt. He didn’t need to wear his good cologne or apply just a little gloss to his pouty lips… He didn’t need to, but he did anyway.

Unfortunately for Jimin, all the nice dressing in the world couldn’t prevent the ache that formed as soon as he met up with Namjoon and began to walk along the quiet trail. Everywhere he looked, it seemed, were lovers, cuddling on park benches or stopped under trees as they shared quiet kisses. Laughter and shouts of joy added to the storm clouds in Jimin’s mind. It only took the constantly thoughtful Namjoon fifteen minutes to pull Jimin off the path.

“What’s the matter?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Yeah, there is. You’ve barely done more than grunt at me.” Namjoon scowled. “If you didn’t want to come, you didn’t have to say yes.”

Panic bubbled up in Jimin’s chest. “No, no,” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I do. I did, I want to be here. I like doing this with you.”

“Then why are you such a grouch?”

Jimin shrugged, lowering his gaze. “It’s stupid. I’ll work on it.” He offered a bright smile, hoping it was convincing. “Look over there, that plum blossom tree. Let me take a picture of you in front of it.” His smile wavered when a young couple holding hands approached the tree he was pointing at, taking a selfie by it.

Namjoon looked over then back at Jimin, his brows losing their knit as his entire expression softened. He looked back to the couple.

“They look happy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimin muttered, looking anywhere but at the couple. “Come on, I’m sure there’ll be a nice tree I can get a picture of you with up ahead.”

He started walking, entirely aware that it was now Namjoon being sullen and silent next to him. They turned down another path, filled with a variety of blossoming trees, and Jimin’s eyes welled with unexpected tears. He blinked them away, trying to keep his face from Namjoon. He didn’t exactly know why he was crying. The scent of the trees, the overwhelming urge just to grab Namjoon’s hand, the peace… It was too much.

“Jimin, can I confess something?” Namjoon whispered, his voice just audible over the wind through the branches.

“Of course,” Jimin’s voice was soft as well, trying not to show he’d been struggling against tears.

“I’m lonely.”

Namjoon’s confession fell like a brick in Jimin’s stomach. He looked over at Namjoon, who smiled weakly. “Hoseok and Yoongi got together, you know?”

Jimin nodded. “And Tae and Jin.”

“And Jungkook’s been flirting with Eunwoo… Hobi thinks they’re gonna start dating soon.”

“Yeah.” Jimin looked back down, not sure what to say. They walked in silence a little longer before Namjoon spoke again.

“Do you know why everyone gets together in the spring?”

“No.”

“It’s a phenomenon they call Vernorexia. Spring fever. Something about the melting of the snow and blooming of the flowers and trees that just puts everyone in a lovey mood. It’s also why some people get so grumpy despite the increase in Vitamin D.”

Jimin chuckled. “I get it.”

“I guess it’s nice. Everyone getting together,” Namjoon said, looking around. He sighed. “Just kinda empty feeling… Being alone during it all.” He looked over at Jimin, smiling sadly. “I’m kind of tired of being alone, Jimin.”

“Me too,” Jimin said. “I heard Ashley is single, she likes you.”

“You know I’m not into girls.”

“I don’t know any single guys you’d want, sorry.”

“I do,” Namjoon said. He grabbed Jimin’s wrist, stopping them on the path. Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat. Namjoon was so close… Before he could really process what was happening, Namjoon went forward, his eyes closing. Jimin’s eyes widened. Not him, it couldn’t be him. Instinctively, he pushed him back, and Namjoon nearly fell, righting himself.

He looked at Jimin with a shocked gaze. “Oh God, did I misunderstand?”

“What?” Jimin asked, his breath coming quickly. Namjoon had almost kissed him.

“I thought…” Namjoon shook his head. “God, I’m a fool. I’m so sorry, I’d never invade your space like that. I thought you liked me, I—Taehyung mentioned it in passing and I—I’ve had a crush on you forever but I never thought it’d work so I…” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks pinking up adorably. “I’m so sorry, I probably freaked you out trying to kiss you like that. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

Jimin shook his head. He waved his hands, trying to get Namjoon to stop panic rambling. He finally grabbed his upper arms. “You like me?”

Namjoon’s body sagged a little. “Is that so disturbing? I ruined our friendship, didn’t I? I know I’m not much. You’re so talented and beautiful and you’re definitely going to be a star. I’m… I’m just Namjoon.”

Jimin gaped, Namjoon’s words settling like a punch to his stomach, painful and deep. “I’ve been in love with you for a year, Namjoon,” he whispered.

Namjoon looked up. “Then why—Why did you push me away just now?”

“Because you don’t want someone like me. I’m ugly and short and awkward and kinda dumb. I get angry at the stupidest things and I’m not near as slender or muscular as Tae or Jin, even as a dancer Hobi has me beat—”

“You are kind of dumb,” Namjoon agreed. Jimin blinked, surprised.

Namjoon smiled, reaching for Jimin. He stroked his face. “You’re dumb if you think any of those things are true. Or those that are, if you think they matter… You are short and you do have a temper… But they don’t matter to me. For months I’ve dreamed of dating you, holding your hand, kissing you, and… More.” Namjoon smiled weakly. “It’s gotten worse with springtime. I feel like there’s this constant stupid emptiness in my guts and I am so, so angry at all the happy couples. I just want to reach out and grab someone… You and tell you how I feel. That’s what today was about. When Tae mentioned you maybe liking me, I figured now was the time to take my shot, even though I thought I wouldn’t ever be enough for you.”

Jimin’s heart was pounding so loud he worried Namjoon could hear it. He flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s neck in a painfully tight hug. “You’re more than enough, Namjoon,” Jimin whispered. “You’re my redwood.”

Namjoon laughed, hugging Jimin back. “Your redwood?” He asked, putting his mouth against Jimin’s shoulder. His breath was warm, drawing goosebumps over Jimin’s arms.

“Mhm. Tall and lean and strong… Always someone that will support me when I’m weak. Someone who can last forever. Tae mentioned it and I—He was right.”

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon rubbed his hands lightly over Jimin’s back. “And what did our Taehyung liken my sweet Minie to?”

Jimin’s breath caught when Namjoon called him sweet. He called him sweet. And his.

“Foxglove,” Jimin whispered.

“Bright and beautiful, but deadly if you don’t handle with care,” Namjoon confirmed. Jimin nodded. He felt Namjoon pulling away and squeezed tighter, not wanting to let go. He did though, and Namjoon smiled down at him. “I’ve always found foxglove to be a beautiful flower. Something to be handled delicately and appreciated for its brightness… But respected.” Namjoon curled his fingers under Jimin’s chin, tilting his head up a little. “I want to kiss you, Jimin. Is that okay?”

Jimin nodded. “Yes. If… If you promise me something first.”

“What?”

“That you won’t go away once the spring rains stop.”

Namjoon smiled wider, shaking his head. “I’ll be around much longer than that, I promise you. As long as you’ll have me, Minie.”

He closed the space between their lips, and this time Jimin didn’t jerk away. He leaned forward, meeting Namjoon’s mouth. As they kissed, he draped his arms over Namjoon’s shoulders, pressing against him. He was kissing Namjoon. Really kissing him. His mouth was soft and tasted faintly of mint. Jimin tried not to grin when the kiss deepened naturally, their tongues brushing together.

When they separated, Jimin brushed his nose against Namjoon’s. “You’re not alone anymore.”

“Neither are you,” Namjoon whispered.

“Do you want to go out tonight? A real date?”

Namjoon nodded. He straightened up, shifting over as another couple passed them. He smirked a little, looking at Jimin.

“Still make you grumpy?”

“Not even a little,” Jimin said, barely glancing at the couple. He couldn’t take his eyes off Namjoon. “I’ve got exactly what I need.”

Namjoon took his hand, twining their fingers as they began to walk again.

The sweet scent of the blossoms no longer twisted Jimin’s stomach into a ball of frustration, and the laughter of other couples was no longer grating to his ears. Now he could see the colors, the breeze was comforting and the scent of the blossoms brightened his mood further. Namjoon’s hand fit his perfectly, and the two walked in a comfortable silence as they looked for a good spot to eat the lunch Namjoon had packed.

Vernorexia, Namjoon had called it. Spring fever. Whatever it was, Jimin had found his cure. It was in the form of his beautiful, smart redwood of a man, and it was the best medicine he’d ever had.

[spellucci]

RIP Amber

October 2005 - April 28, 2021

Amber the Traveler

Amber was an accomplished traveling companion. She has peed in all of the lower 48 states. She has swum in the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Gulf of Mexico, all five of the Great Lakes, and many lakes and streams in between. Amber hiked the 200+ miles of the Bay Circuit Trail from Plum Island on the north shore of Boston to Plymouth on the south shore.

Along the way, she brought joy and happiness to all who were privileged to pet her. On a crowded overlook at Yosemite National Park, Amber collected a crowd from a tour bus. They ignored the gorgeous scenery and lined up to pet her. On the Bay Circuit Trail, high school students would gather around her to pet her. She was beautiful.

She taught Jeanne how to listen to dog language. Jeanne was a slow learner, but she eventually learned the basics of “ha ha, two-legged, you are huffing and puffing up this hill when you should have four legs and run up it like me.” This is said with a smirking, superior laugh. Other basic phrases are: “It’s time for water and snacks.” “It’s time to turn back now.” The most memorable was “I’ve had enough of this cold rain. Put me in this nice warm car NOW.” The car she was next to wasn’t our car. At home, she would sometimes even communicate with her bodily functions, the details of which will be omitted from this obituary.

After hiking the Bay Circuit Trail, she got 3 serious tick-borne diseases. The local vet told us to put her to sleep, she wouldn’t survive. We found another vet who helped Amber stay with us for five more years. Her new vet was delighted that she recovered so well.

Barky Beginnings

At age six, Mike wanted a dog. “But you won’t take care of it.” “Yes, I will, mommy!” Jeanne set him an impossible task: show you can take care of a dog by taking care of the cat for two months, including feeding her and cleaning the litter box once a week. He enthusiastically did everything he was asked, including cleaning the litter box daily. Mike won.

We went to Buddy Dog, the local animal shelter. We saw lots of dogs and Mike liked them all. Finally, we went into the Puppy Room. He crawled into the crate with a lively pile of three-month old rescue puppies and stared at one with rapture. They looked at each other in complete adoration, and so Amber joined our family.

And the lesson about taking care of the dog? Forgotten in the excitement of having a puppy in the house. The duties of feeding and walking Amber were taken up by the adults. Amber and Jeanne fell in love through this experience, Jeanne’s indifference to dogs melting in Amber’s brown eyes. The Bay Circuit Trail hike cemented their friendship.

We always took Amber camping. She learned to swim at an early age. Her first swim was on a long leash. She had a most startled expression on her face, as if to say, “I’m swimming! I can’t believe I’m swimming.” She was a water dog from then on.

Mount Desert Island National Park has a climb, not a hike, but a real climb up stairs and iron ladders, called the Beehive. She was eager to get up it with us. The boys would climb up, she would patiently wait her turn, and the Tim would hoist her up to the next ledge. She was the hit of the mountain.

Amber was a winter dog. She was potty trained in the snow.

We went sledding during the first winter we had her. Tim was concerned she would run away while we were at the sledding hill. Tim’s brother Chris was like, “Run away? You are her whole life! She is going to stay with you the whole time.” 

For the rest of her life, she relished fresh snowfall. She would run outside, dig her nose into a fresh snowbank, bring her snow covered snout to the surface, and give a big “look what I did” smile.

Life with Amber

Amber raised a horde of boys from six-ish to adulthood. She considered them her litter mates. Along the way, Amber helped to raise a litter of kittens, played with the cats, including carefully letting one cat wrestle with her.

No squirrels dared enter our yard and deer turned up their white tails and ran. When she heard deer in the yard, she would wait by the door, and charge out after them as soon as the door was open, and return grinning. “Mom, I chased them. Did you see, did you see? They all ran so fast!”

Amber learned to be very careful with geese, and then applied that lesson to turkeys, just in case.

She would always lay at the top of the stairs so that any kid who entered the house would stop and pet her. Up until the last party she hosted, she was always gracious letting her friend-group pet her coming and going.

She always knew who was allowed and who wasn’t. Women and children were welcome. Men? Not so much. Tim was Amber’s primary chef and waiter. Amber’s take on Tim? Alarmed barking every time Tim came home, as if to say, “That guy, he’s here!!!”

In her youth, she was placed in her crate during working hours to keep her from eating the couch again. Once she famously Houdini-ed out of her crate to chase a burglar out of the house with the little he was carrying. Amber very proudly met Jeanne’s car (what’s Amber doing outside, and how did she get out of her crate?) to let Jeanne know that Amber had protected the house. Jeanne was concerned about coming home to an open front door, and waited for the police before entering the house. But brave Amber never went back in the crate.

Amber was adept at taking food that was not intended for her. No garbage can was Amber proof. Many items placed out of her reach on the back of the stove, meatloaf, chicken, pizza, somehow managed to disappear. Amber wore a knowing smirk.

Goodbye Amber

Amber was always an intrepid explorer — ever ready to go somewhere new. As she got older, the walks grew shorter and the RV became her way of going to new places. 

Readers of this blog know how she loved to find new places to pee and to sniff. Her favorite spot in the RV was in the cab between the driver and the passenger, where she was in easy reach for petting as we drove her to new sites.

In the last few weeks, we saw her sleeping more and more, and sometimes we would see her legs twitch as she dreamed of chasing squirrels. Her mile, then half-mile walks had turned into 100-feet of pained limping. We decided it was time to let her go. She died peacefully at home surrounded by her peeps, assisted by a vet who makes house calls.

Best girl. Fluffilicious girl. We hope you are running through grass with no ticks, chasing deer that always run, and pizza to snatch off the back of the stove when you get home.

[lady-literature]

what a lion cannot manage chp 3

Ao3 | chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4

Her first thought—after screaming, of course—is that she needs to go tell Kacchan right now. She just found out something big and insane and Kacchan would want to know too.

She curbs that desire before it can go anywhere.

This is huge, yes, and she doesn't want to keep this from Kacchan but it’s also not her secret to tell. All Might- Yagi hadn’t wanted her to know. Otherwise, he would have told her.

But he didn’t. She figured it out accidentally instead.

Ugh.

How is one supposed to deal with figuring out their idol’s secret identity? How is someone supposed to deal with having known their idol for months without actually knowing and she just… Izumi has so many emotions about this.

All his nervousness whenever she brought up All Might makes so much sense now and, oh kami. She’s gushed about him to his face. Just have Kacchan explodo-kill her now. It’ll be a mercy.

How is she supposed to face Yagi now? What is she going to tell him?

She keens, low and long and distressed, in the silence of her room.

It probably says a lot about her general existence that it’s that and not the scream that brings Aoi crashing through her door with a worried expression.

***

The next three days pass in a daze for Izumi.

It’s only by the grace of everyone thinking she’s just upset over Yagi-san that she gets through it. Which, she means, they aren’t technically wrong. But not for the reasons they think.

She misses him like an ache in her chest but it’s her mind that’s the problem.

Aligning the image of the Great Savior All Might, their Symbol of Peace and model by which all great Heroes strive to follow, with her dorky, awkward Yagi who spends his free time telling corny jokes is just… disorienting. It makes both too much and absolutely zero sense.

How can one person be so different and yet so similar at the same time?

She can tell she’s starting to get on Kacchan’s nerves with all her fidgeting and not-quite muttering. He’s taken to knocking her on the head when she spirals too far or when he needs her attention. Sometimes, she can even catch him frowning at her out of the corner of her eye.

It’s the same look he uses when unraveling complicated chemical equations.

She wishes she could just tell him, could share her worries and fears and concerns but she can’t. Instead, she smiles and begs him to take her to the bakery on main street until he gets irritated enough to stop trying to figure out why she’s upset.

***

Her and Yagi talk near every day. Even if it’s only a few texts with hours between responses.

It had taken him two days in the beginning to call her. Days she now knows were probably busily filled with whatever All Might business he’d been pushing off to be here, but at the time she thought he’d been avoiding her. She’d been scared to reach out, hesitant to make the leap as doubts filled her mind.

But after, it was as if the floodgates opened. Calls and texts and video chats were exchanged as often as possible, the pair reaching out with the same vigour they had when they were right next to one another. 

He’s slow to answer texts sometimes, and video chats are often hastily rescheduled with little notice but Izumi understands. He’s busy. He’s All Might, after all. She can’t fault him for saving people.

What kind of Hero would that make her if she did?

***

For all the talking they do, Izumi never actually brings up him being All Might.

It’s not like she’s trying to hide it, but it just… never seems like the right time. It’s not a conversation to have on the phone, she thinks. 

And it’s not like she’s going to tell anyone, so it’s probably fine, right? She’s just waiting until she sees him in person again, until his next visit. It’s a delicate situation that requires a certain level of finesse that you can’t get over the phone, is all.

Not because Izumi is terrified that she’d accidentally betrayed his trust too much to come back from and he’ll never speak to her again if he finds out so she’s trying to prolong her time with him for as long as possible.

Certainly not that.

***

Izumi opens the door right as Katsuki raises his fist to pound on the wood with all the aggression to be found in his boyish body. His fist halts mid-air, almost punching her in the eye.

He scowls at her. “I hate when you do that.”

She grins at the stutter in his heartbeat they both know she can hear. They both know he thinks it’s cool though he’s never said it.

“Did you need something, Kacchan?” she asks instead of pointing that out. He only gets grumpier when she acknowledges those kinds of things.

“What kind of stupid question is that? We’re going to the park, idiot. Or did you forget?”

Izumi thinks back over the last couple days. Katsuki never asked her to go to the park.

She decides not to point that out either.

“Let me grab my notebook.”

“Whatever. Just hurry the fuck up!”

“Language!” someone calls from inside the house. Katsuki automatically flips them off despite not being able to see them or vice versa. She finishes pulling on her shoes and pushes him off down the street before he can get into another screaming match with Uncle Kyo.

“We’re going to the park!” she yells into the house, raising her voice for the benefit of the humans’.

“Have fun, sweetheart!” her mom says from the upstairs along with a chorus of other well wishes from everyone else.

***

Izumi will be the first to admit she has a bit of a skewed metric for what most people consider ‘normal.’ Katsuki’s not that far behind her, she thinks, but Kami forbid she tell him that.

Exhibit A: most kids come to the park to play in the jungle gym or build sandcastles. Izumi and Katsuki… do not do that.

“Kacchan, you’re putting too much strain on your joints!” Izumi calls from where she’s perched along the bar on top of the swingsets, balanced in a way one can only achieve with a tail for a counterweight. “Try bending your elbow more!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, damn nerd!” he shouts, vaulting over the balance beam. “I don’t need your fucking help!”

His heartbeat doesn’t stutter—both because it’s going to fast for it to and what he said isn’t really a lie anyway.

His arms still loosen up, because he knows she’s right and her advice has never been about him needing it.

The new angle should lessen the stress on his elbows but it’s going to make him sore quicker. Izumi makes a note about looking up exercises to help strengthen the muscles in his arms and shoulders in the corner of the page.

For the last month or so, Katsuki’s been all but brimming with excess energy. He’s barely able to sit still in the classroom anymore and seems angrier than ever. He’s even been suspended from the wrestling team for one too many displays of aggression. He still does kickboxing every other day but it’s not quite cutting it.

Izumi’s taken to pulling him out to the track at lunchtime to let him run out whatever energy he can but it’s not enough. The first few hours after school and weekend mornings have become dominated by Katsuki dragging her into the forest to jog up the hiking trails or to the park for her to set up increasingly difficult obstacle courses for him.

Like today.

He’ll keep going until he��s dead on his feet, she knows, refusing to stop until he hits a wall of exhaustion and she has to half-drag, half-carry him back home.

It’s really starting to worry her, watching him work himself into the ground for no discernable reason. But he won’t talk to her about it.

She’s not sure if he’s embarrassed or prideful or some other self-important reason he’s come up with, but it all comes out to the same thing: Izumi floundering around to help treat the symptoms of the sickness Katsuki won’t talk about.

She can’t even yell at him about keeping secrets from her because all that would do is piss him off and make her a hypocrite.

They both know Izumi keeps things from him, has secrets she can’t and won’t share with him (secrets that burn at the base of her throat, that keep building in number despite her best efforts).

One day they’re going to fight about that. It’s all she can do to push it off until tomorrow.

***

Izumi gets good at reading between the lines during her time talking with Yagi.

She’d already been good, in an unpolished fox-born-affinity kind of way. But having to parse through Yagi’s heavily edited daily schedules makes her better.

He’s good at lying without lying. Dancing around issues and straight-up avoiding others. She can see how he’s kept his identity a secret for so long.

It means Izumi has to be sneaky about her questioning. Has to do more than just not be obviously worried after she’d watched some two-bit villain throw him through a wall and oh kami, what about his side? Why isn’t he in the hospital?

She watches All Might fights with something rapidly approaching anxiety these days. Flinches at hits more than she cheers for his wins.

Kacchan notices because he’s far more observant than most people give him credit for.

He’s agitated by it as far as she can tell. Takes an almost personal offence to her worry over the number one hero, which is more than a little confusing for her.

Sure, he’s still a bit touchy about the whole ‘letting people help and worry about him’ thing but Izumi’s never seen him apply that hang-up to another person. Much less All Might.

Every time she wrings her hands at a TV screen or bites her lip while reading an article, Kacchan’s face twists like he swallowed a lemon. She wants to ask about it but is half-convinced it might be related to that other issue he won’t talk to her about, so she doesn’t. For now, at least.

Her temporary solution of waiting until Kacchan calms down just enough that she can tackle-hug him without being immediately thrown off is working well enough anyway.

***

Izumi remembers the first time she told Katsuki she wanted to be a hero, back when he was still all sharp edges and blistering palms. When it seemed like he’d never settle into his skin or breathe without the weight of all the expectations he’d placed on himself.

Before, even, the time she crawled back down a tree to meet the angry words of “why do you do that?”

He’d told her he was going to be a better hero than All Might and Izumi had brightened like he’d hung the stars. Her mouth was halfway around a rambling tirade about saving the day and helping people when he’d laughed. Harsh and cruel.

It stopped Izumi in her tracks.

“How are you gonna be a hero?” he taunts, nose raised in superiority. “All you can do is hear and smell stuff from far away! How are you supposed to fight anyone with a quirk like that?”

This isn’t the first time someone has said this to Izumi, and she doubts it will be the last. That’s the nature of the secret she keeps.

There is indignation in her chest. It is not new.

The anger though? That’s new. She’s never been truly angry at the townspeople before.

It hadn’t been so personal before. It doesn’t matter that she’d only known this boy for a few short weeks, he was hers. The winds whispered it to her, the pounding of the earth demanded it.

The townspeople are kind and friendly and hers in the detached way all innocents are hers, but Katsuki is different—is supposed to be different. Izumi does not know how many Protectors walk the earth, but Katsuki is the first she’d found and that means something whether either of them know it or not.

Her mouth twists into a frown. “Quirks aren’t everything.”

And they aren’t. She knows that, has known it since she sent Daiki to the nurse’s office in third grade.

Izumi has her teeth and her claws, has her mind and a viciousness born of the chaos at her center. She has magic, something so few people know how to wield these days.

And past that? Her Nona remembers the time before quirks, remembers their birth and the riots it started. The hatred. Izumi’s grown on stories and tales of the time before quirks. Of the great feats humanity made with nothing but their hands and minds.

It’s not quirks that make humans special. It never was.

Katsuki, arrogant and prideful and still so young, doesn't agree. Doesn’t understand.

“They hell they’re not!” he laughs and it’s a mocking sort of sound that makes tears prick at her eyes. “You only say that because yours is weak.”

“No!” she shouts. Her voice cracks and her breath heaves from her lungs like she can’t get enough air but she shouts anyway. “I’m not weak. I’m not less than you! You’re just being a bully and mean and that’s not how a hero acts!”

Katsuki pushes her to the ground and she’s sobbing now because the wind whispers to her and she knows, she knows, deep in her chest, that this is important. That there’s a crossroads here and it will change everything if she picks wrong.

“All Might wins and smiles and is kind and you’ll never be like him if you act like a bully!” she yells through her tears. Glares at him from her spot on the ground, through her tears and pain and hope and she thinks no. Not this time. Not him. Not here.

Izumi plants her hands on the ground, her knees dirty and face red, and she stands back up as tall as she can, chin tilted in defiance. She’s a whole head shorter than him and looks a sorry sight with all her tears but she stands before her friend, the boy that Fate Herself decreed would walk at her side until the very end, and she glares.

Greek fire against boiling pools of blood and she doesn’t bother to flinch. She won’t bend for this.

She will bend and bend until she breaks for so many things but not for this. For this, she will be stone or she will shatter.

“You’re not supposed to be mean,” she says firmly, honestly. “If you keep looking down on everyone, you’re only going to be sad and angry and alone. If you can’t see that, you’re not gonna get better and you won’t grow.”

He looks like she slapped him. Stricken and utterly still and furious but she doesn't care.

She’s not weak. Power is an old friend of hers and the world will shake beneath her feet. Izumi will grow up and she will be mighty.

Not even her precious Kacchan can tell her she can’t.

***

It was that moment, she thinks, that truly changed his path. Her inability to let him ruin himself for the sake of his pride.

If she was kinder, less selfish perhaps, she might have let him grow into it himself. Let him make mistakes and learn from them and lean on others for those life lessons.

But she is not and she didn’t. Instead, she shoved him into lessons he was not meant to learn yet for years to come. Instead, she robbed him of his growth and cheapened it because she could not live with him hating her. Because she couldn’t bear to live in a world where he thought her small.

She only hopes that when he realizes what she did, he doesn’t hate her for it.

***

Katsuki knows there’s something strange about his best friend. He’d have to be blind, deaf and fucking moronic to not have noticed.

But, well. Weird shit happens all the time in this town. People do weird shit all the time in this town.

Spirit traps hang from every eve. The crows are smarter here than anywhere else. No one walks through the crossroads at the center of town. People carry salt in their pockets and iron jewellery on their wrists. Half the deaths in town are unexplained.

Something’s weird with his best friend, but then, he thinks, something’s weird with everyone.

He gets used to what he can and pointedly ignores the rest. It’s whatever. It’s not like it really affects him .

Until it does.

***

Katsuki starts seeing things from the corners of his eyes.

Shadows that move and pockets of air that shimmer like hot asphalt. Things that aren’t really there and faces that terrify him even when he can’t remember why. Voices just at the edge of his hearing and feelings he can’t explain.

 A bunch of weird things that don’t mean anything and definitely don’t make him jumpy or paranoid.

So what if he starts keeping a dreamcatcher above his bed or good luck charms in his pockets? Or if he starts flicking his bedroom light on and off three times before actually turning it off at night?

That no one’s business but his own. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t really know why he does it. He doesn't need to explain himself to anyone.

It’s nothing.

At least, until he has to stop looking at Izu head-on because when he does, he gets so dizzy he wants to vomit. Or when there’s suddenly three times as many people in town with familiar green hair that make his vision swim just to look at, and weird, overly large foxes running at the edge of the forest.

***

There’s a door in his house that wasn’t there that morning.

It’s in one of the basement hallways, tucked away in a corner and when Katsuki stares at it, it gives him the same ‘headache behind the eyes’ feeling as all the new broccoli-tops running around town.

A normal person would be unnerved and confused by all the fuckery going on. This has horror movie written all over it, with Katsuki starring front and center to get demonically possessed.

Katsuki glares at the door before barging his way through it without fanfare.

Being unnerved is for losers who never get shit done and any two-bit demon that thinks they can control him will be in for one hell of a surprise. Namely, his fist up whatever the equivalent of their ass is.

***

The door opens up into a stairway that leads to a secret second basement containing a library filled with books and the weirdest shit Katsuki has ever seen in his life.

He plucks a book from the shelf at random, opens to a page in the middle and skims over the overly fancy handwriting.

His blood freezes at what he reads.

***

At eleven years old, Katsuki is filled to bursting with energy and jittering nerves like something in his gut was building and building and building and-

There are things hidden in shadows and the darkness, things with teeth and too many eyes and rules he doesn’t understand but should because they’re all so familiar, why does he-?

There’s a library under his house filled with things that shouldn’t exist and knowledge that belongs in folktales and fantasy books but Katsuki knows it’s true because something in his mind has clicked into place like it was always meant to and suddenly he can see-

He sits at a table surrounded by books and Katsuki reads and learns and his thoughts spin faster and faster and confusion fades to a muted sort of horror and understanding. He feels bile rise in his throat because, oh kami, he didn’t- this wasn’t- he doesn't want to know-

At eleven years old, Katsuki learns about the supernatural and yōkai and all that hides behind the veil and he grows sick because he’s not stupid. He can see now and the books before him are filled with insane things but they’re all real. His best friend is yōkai, is a fox.

And Katsuki’s family has spent generations hunting them.

***

“I think Kacchan’s avoiding me.”

Yagi blinks at her through the screen. “Hello to you too, my dear.”

“Sorry, yes. Hi, Yagi! I miss you lots,” she babbles quickly before going back to the problem at hand. “Kacchan’s avoiding me and I don’t know why.”

Yagi hums thoughtfully even as his mouth twitches with amusement. “Are you sure that’s what he’s doing? Hiding doesn't sound like the Young Bakugou.”

“It’s not hiding,” she defends on instinct, then bites the end of her thumb. “But I don’t know what else it would be. He’s acting… acting a lot like he did when we were first friends. How he only interacted with me when he had to.”

“Now that definitely doesn’t sound like Young Bakugou,” Yagi half-heartedly teases, starting to look worried on behalf of Izumi. “Have you, perhaps, spoken to him about it?”

Izumi gives him a look like he’s just told her he thinks the sky is orange.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“You don’t just spring emotional conversations on Kacchan, Yagi,” she says, looking almost scandalized. “He’ll get hives or something.”

Yagi, for his part, only covers his mouth with his hand instead of slamming his face into the desk or bursting into laughter at her misery. That’s what Aoi did when Izumi asked her for advice, the unhelpful jerk.

“If that’s so, then I’m sure you just need to give him time. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

It’s not the advice Izumi wanted to hear because she’d already figured that and she’s far from a patient person. But, she also knows he’s right.

“Yeah, maybe,” she sighs unhappily. Then, she plants her elbows on the table. “So how’s work going? Are your coworkers teasing you again?”

Yagi pulls a face like he’s trying to be long-suffering but it hits too close to amused and fond. “They always are, my girl. Always.”

***

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Kacchan was just waiting for her to get anxious enough to blab to Yagi before he put her out of her misery. It’s a reliable way to gauge how big of a problem she thinks something is, seeing as she doesn’t like adding more things to Yagi’s already overflowing plate.

It was almost anti-climactic considering all the horrible things Izumi had been imagining. But, in her defense, it was her and Kacchan. Neither of them ever did anything by halves.

He corners her after school and pulls her down one of the hallways no one goes down. She’s so relieved that he’s actually looking at her and not pretending she doesn’t exist that she doesn’t even care when he crams her between him and the corner where the end of the lockers meet the wall, effectively boxing her in.

Her mouth is already halfway around a question, ready to start speaking at a thousand miles an hour without giving him a chance, but he beats her to it.

“I know.”

Her mouth snaps shut in her confusion. Her head tilts. “Know what?”

His eyes are boring into hers, the first time he’s looked her in the eye in… she doesn't even know. A month? It was before he started avoiding her entirely at least.

She watches as slowly, purposefully, his eyes flick to the top of her head.

She’s still confused. Is there something wrong with her hair? Her ears flick in impatience, waiting for him to just tell her-  

His eyes follow the movement.

Her ears stand straight up, panic coursing through her and his eyes follow that too. He can see.

He can see.

“You’re a fox,” he says and it’s not a question. “A Shual Nephesh, right?”

Behind her eyes, her mind spins and whirls like a hurricane. Moving so much faster than everyone around her, a mess of plans and paths and actions laid before her like a prophecy of her own choosing.

She stares into his eyes, into glittering pools of blood, and sees the nervousness hidden there behind the arrogance and bluster. She sees the wariness and the confusion. But no fear. No hatred.

Izumi takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and makes a decision.

“We need to talk to Nona.”

***

Everyone’s surprisingly calm about Katsuki being in the know.

Most of the adults give her an almost disappointedly exasperated look before she explains he has the Sight which is what gave them away. Which… rude. Sure, she’s been wanting to tell Kacchan for years but that doesn’t mean she would. Not when Nona gave a direct order.

She can get away with a lot but not even she would test such a boundary. Though, by the looks, she’s almost sure she could’ve. Interesting. A thought for later.

They almost get through it all without a major incident.

That is, until Kacchan opens his mouth and drops a bigger bomb than him being the first person in a hundred years to figure them out.

“There’s something else you should know.” He’s shuffling his feet next to her and if Izumi didn’t know any better she’d think he’s worried. But about what?

Her Nona raises her brow at him. “And that is?”

“My Mom’s maiden name was Takanashi.”

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah. That’ll do it.

***

They try to make her leave the room.

Izumi snorts and latches onto Kacchan's arm, staunchly refusing to let go. You don’t spend almost four years as Bakugou Kastuki’s best friend without picking up at least a few of his brattier habits. Such as his problem with doing things he doesn’t want to.

 Izumi knows what hunters are, knows to be wary of them the same way all yōkai are. She knows who the Takanashi Clan are too, knows they’re the reason her skulk is hidden away on their own land even if no one will tell her why or what they did.

Learning that Katsuki, her best friend, is a Takanashi? A descendant of the same people who cursed her skulk? Her born enemy?

Well. 

Izumi’s not quite as upset as she supposes she should be.

It’s just that, it’s still Kacchan isn’t it? The same boy they’ve all know for years? Nothing’s really changed. He can’t help the family he was born into and it’s not like he’s ever threatened them or was even likely to do so.

She doesn’t understand why everyone’s throwing a fit.

After a long five minutes of people yelling and being unnecessarily dramatic—distantly, Izumi wonders if this is how her classmates feel around her and Kacchan—she decides enough is enough.

She shares a look with Aoi, one of the few people not making a big deal out of this, along with her mother and Nana Naoki. Aoi understands what she needs without speaking.

A sharp whistle pierces the air. Loud and shrill enough to make even the humans wince in pain.

It’s quiet almost immediately, and Izumi grins even as the adults glare at them.

This is why Aoi is her favourite.

“Thank you,” she smiles, then turns back to Kacchan, patting his forearm. “You can keep talking now.”

***

Everyone’s staring at him.

Adults who are older than they look and far more powerful all have their attention on him.

Nona—Midoriya Asuka, the Matriarch—is standing before him, perfectly poised with all five of her tails fanned out behind her. She doesn’t look older than forty even though he knows she has to be more than two hundred. Her silver eyes bore into him and he’s almost positive she’s exactly what Izu will look like in however many years. Powerful aura and all.

He can taste ozone in the air and knows that it won’t matter that he’s known most of these people for years. It won’t matter that he and Izu are practically inseparable or that Inko is as much his mom as she is Izu’s and vice versa with his own parents.

One wrong move and he doesn’t think he’ll leave this room.

He can’t even say he’d blame them. He doesn’t know exactly what his family did to them, but he knows it wasn’t good. Knows it forced them into hiding. Them, Shaalim Nephashoth. These great, powerful beings who should be neatly sat at the top of the yōkai food chain, just under the Kami Themselves and Nephilim.

So, Katsuki does what he always does when faced with a challenge. Raises his chin and charges forward. Failure isn’t an option and Katsuki sneers at the very idea.

He needs them to trust him which means he needs to prove he can be trusted.

There’s a reason he spent so long holed up in that damned library, paging through books that made him queasy to look at. He had to get this right.

He locks eyes with the Midoriya Matriarch and speaks, clear and with as much authority as he, a boy still a few months from twelve years, can muster.

“I, Bakugou Katsuki, renounce my ties to the Takanashi Clan by witness of the earth, moon and stars. The grudges of my ancestors are not my own and no secrets held by the Midoriya Skulk will pass my lips.” His hands flex at his sides and he takes a deep breath. “I walk this path with you, not against you. I swear it.”

He can feel the metal and magic curling it’s way around his wrist, so similar to the one he can now see on Izu's. He doesn’t look at it, too busy holding the Matriarch’s gaze and awaiting her judgement.

It’s tense for a few long seconds and the smell of ozone grows almost overwhelming. He doesn’t dare to even breathe.

And then… she blinks. Her eyes are a warm green rather than gunmetal silver and something like approval rests there.

“Very well. Your oath is accepted, young Seer. I, and that of my skulk, hold no ill will toward you.”

His breath wooshes out of him and he thinks he hears laughter at the edges of the room.

Nona—because that’s who she is again, not the Matriarch—turns her head towards Izu behind him. “You’ve chosen a good one.”

Izu latches onto his arm and Auntie Inko comes up on his other side to thread her fingers through his hair.

“I know,” she says proudly.

***

It falls to Izumi to explain everything, even though it probably shouldn’t have.

Katsuki, unsurprisingly, came in with a good chunk of knowledge. For all that he’s an easily lit fuse, he’s not one to disregard an advantage. And for this situation? Knowledge was the only one he had.

Izumi kindly but firmly corrects any of the stereotypes or misconceptions his source material gave him, which was surprisingly few. The Takanashi’s bestiary was unexpectedly unbiased, it seemed.

Katsuki still looks a bit shaken from having his entire worldview turned upside down and exhausted by all the things he’s learned, so they call Mitsuki and Masaru and tell him he’s going to stay the night. It’s a bit odd, because Katsuki has never set foot in her house before, much less spent the night, but the magic settled around them means that the Bakugous don’t question it. Izumi’s spent more than enough nights at their house, so as far as they're concerned, this is normal.

It isn’t, but they aren’t going to tell them that.

Her and Kacchan build a pillow fort in the middle of her room. Kacchan starfishes out, taking up as much space as possible while Izumi curls tightly into a ball and tucks herself up against the crook of his flung out arm.

“I was pissed, you know,” he says into the darkness, apropos of nothing. It’s still dark outside and they’d be getting up for breakfast soon if they had ever gone to bed in the first place. “Absolutely furious that you kept something this big from me. I thought you- I figured that you were so damn powerful and that you’ve just spent the last four years laughing at me.”

Izumi jolts, lifting her head to stare at him in a mixture of surprise and horror. “Kacchan, I would never-”

“I know,” he cuts her off. “I know. It took me reading two more pages to figure that out. That you weren’t hiding because it was fun.”

“I wanted to tell you,” she insists and it’s true. She hated lying to Kacchan. It was just so fundamentally wrong to lie to him. But this wasn’t like with her name. This wasn’t a secret she could just do with as she wished. It affected more than just herself and she couldn’t risk her skulk the same way she’s willing to risk herself.

She doesn’t really know how to tell him that though.

“I’m still angry, and- and I hate that you could keep a secret this big from me but I… I don’t hate you.”

Izumi nods, because that’s fair.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promises.

He snorts, knocking the back of his fist against her forehead. “Damn well better, loser. I expect you to be waiting on me hand and foot for the next month.”

 She grabs his wrist, because he’s always so fussy about his hands and the dangers associated thereof, and draws designs into it with the tip of her fingers, just under his binding.

Kacchan harrumphs but doesn't pull away and she has to smother her smile. “Of course, O Great King Bakugou,” she teases. “I am but your loyal servant.”

“Good,” he says haughtily and she doesn't have to look at him to hear the smirk in his voice. “My first order will be that you have to clean my room for me tomorrow.” He pauses. “Also, never call me ‘Bakugou’ ever again. That shit’s weird.”

Izumi gasps. “I knew you liked the nickname!”

“Eat shit and die.”

It’s not a denial and Izumi can't stop herself from chirping happily. Even when it prompts him into trying to smother her with a pillow.

***

 Katsuki’s gotten good at interpreting Izumi’s moods over the years.

She’s an open book—unlike him—and you’d think that would mean it’s easy to tell what she’s feeling but you would, of course, be wrong.

Sure she expresses herself freely and rarely tries to hide her emotions from anyone, but that means jack shit when half of them just get expressed as ‘start crying immediately’ anyway.

The amount of rage and frustration that first year had been, trying to understand her outbursts and anticipate them… Katsuki still winces at some of the following fights.

But the thing about Izu having a tail and ears, about him being able to see them now? It’s that it makes his job about two hundred percent easier. After a brief adjustment period where he has to relearn all her non-verbal signals with the inclusions of ears and a tail, he settles himself neatly at the top of the list of people who can read her like a book. Higher than, perhaps, even Auntie Inko.

It’s a surprisingly comforting thought. Especially since she’s been able to see through him for years now.

Turnabout's fair play and all that.

***

It’s two days later when Izumi sticks her head in through Kacchan’s window. It’s seven in the morning and they don’t have school today. She expects him to still be in bed but instead, he’s hunched over his desk doing ninth-grade level math they weren’t even assigned.

And he calls her the nerd.

“Hey, Kacchan!” she says brightly, grabbing his attention.

He whirls around, palms already sparking dangerously before he sees her at the window.

“Jesus fuck,” he snaps, glare chilling enough to curdle milk. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Izumi pouts at him, laying her chin on his window sill. “Aww. Kacchan that’s not nice.”

“I don’t give a damn.” He slouches back into his desk chair. Then, slowly he narrows his eyes at her, and by proxy, the window she’s leaning through. “How the fuck are you doing that?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, faux innocence.

The look he gives her is ten kinds of unamused. “I live on the second floor.”

“Yeah, so?” Izumi can practically see the steam slowly building in his ears. Smiling, she hoists herself up over the ledge with ease and front flips into the room, arms raised as she sticks the landing.

Kacchan kicks at her legs.

“I hate you,” he says to her form as she sprawls comfortably on the bed.

“Mhmm,” she hums dryly. “Nona sent me over to take inventory of your reliquary. I’m supposed to take whatever’s interesting and burn anything overly insulting.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, challenging.

“They figured I’d be the least conspicuous,” she pauses, pulling a face. “I’m also pretty sure it’s a test of some kind, but I’m not sure what about or why.”

Her only answer is a grunt.

“Now, come on and get dressed! We’ve got work to do.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snaps but turns around to grab jeans and a black t-shirt with the word ‘SMASH!’ written in red, white, and blue inside a comic book explosion. Idly, she thinks she could probably get that signed for him.

Five minutes later, Izumi descends the stairs with Kacchan in tow to eat breakfast. She tells the Bakugous good morning as she sits at the counter and they regard her with something like amused exasperation. Mitsuki offers to make her scrambled eggs instead of asking how she got into their house without their knowing.

Raising Katsuki taught them when to pick their battles. Meeting little Izumi, who’s as crafty as she is sweet, only served to cement that lesson.

***

The second she steps into the reliquary, her nose wrinkles. Not just at the number of books she’s going to have to sort through—because seriously, were the Takanashis’ some kind of hoarders?—but also at the more… distasteful decorations.

Along the walls and placed on any open space are what Izumi can only assume are meant to be trophies.

Pixie wings pinned carefully onto boards, hollowed horns of more creatures than she can recognize, wings and teeth and claws laid out like cheap prizes. Selkie skins, harpy feathers, swan maiden coats, and wolf fur. Pelts of every color and kind are strung up like tapestries or thrown on the floor like rugs.

Izumi actually hisses when she catches sight of a honey gold foxtail placed in a display case.

There’s more, so much more, but she shuts her eyes and tries to breathe past the smell of death and rot and twisted, hungry magic blanketing the whole room.

She can feel Kacchan frowning at her, hears him shuffle a half step closer to her in an attempt at comfort. “Shoulda warned ya,” he says and it’s about as close to sorry as he gets.

“It’s fine,” she says. “When will your parents be gone?”

There’s a lot in here they need to get out and all of it are things his parents can’t see. Cursed objects in inadequate containers and more remains then she can count that deserve to be put to rest properly.

Kami, her skulk’s going to want to raise the Takanashis from their shallow graves just to kill them all over again when they see this.

“They’re going on a date tonight, actually. They’ll be gone for a couple hours.”

She nods and pulls out her phone to call the house and tell them. This was her job, and she’ll go through the books, but there’s no way she’s touching half the stuff in here without an expert telling her she can. She’s surprised the house hasn’t collapsed with how much malicious magic she can feel in here.

“What books did you already go through? We’ll sort those ones first.”

***

They spend hours down there, skimming through tomes and sorting them into ‘ acceptable’, ‘needs a more thorough read-through’, and ‘ just fucking burn it’ piles.

Nona, along with six of Izumi’s grandparents, arrive ten minutes after the Bakugous leave and their reaction to the reliquary is pretty spot on of what she expected. Which is as gratifying as it is mildly terrifying because she doesn’t think she’s ever seen her family so furious before.

Izumi and Katsuki, sometimes with the assistance of actual adults who should be doing this in the first place, make their way through all the books in about a week and a half. She’s actually kind of impressed with the amount that proved not to be total wastes of time.

She’s also, perhaps, a little bit surprised when she doesn’t catch anyone going back through the books and checking her work. No one questions her judgement.

Izumi isn’t sure what to make of that.

***

“So, is that why you and your family are so fucking weird?”

Izumi pauses, looking up from the collection of Edgar Allen Poe she was reading to stare at Kacchan who’s made himself more than comfortable on her bean bag chair. She tries to figure out what he’s trying to ask her but ultimately gives up.

“Huh?”

“Foxes,” he says like she’s stupid for not being capable of mindreading. “Are they all so fucking weird or is it just you guys?”

Izumi’s lips twist. “Most of the skulk are human.”

Kacchan rolls his eyes, flopping back against all the pillows he stole from her bed to make his throne. “Of course you are. I don’t know why I even tried.”

***

Yagi: Midoriya, my dear!

I’ve discovered a very interesting fact I think you’d enjoy

Me: oh?

what is it?

Yagi: Did you know french fries weren’t originally made in France?

Me: uh…

i guess ive never thought about it?

where were they invented?

Yagi: They were first cooked in GREECE!

Me: …

Yagi no

Yagi: HAHAHA!

Me: you have the lamest sense of humor

im going to tell everyone about your crime against jokes

Yagi: And I’m sure they will find it equally humorous!

Me: youre lucky i like you

Yagi: Of course my dear.

Me: b/c your puns are horrible

im half convinced you only helped me learn english so you can subject me to this

Yagi: That’s not very nice.

And I would NEVER

Me: mhmmm

are we still on for the skype call in an hour?

Yagi: I wouldn’t miss it.

Me: are you finally gonna tell me what the surprise is?

Yagi: Patience is a virtue, young Izumi.

Me: and sloth is a sin

come on! i’m super excited!

you’ve been hinting at it for like,,,, a week

Yagi: Quick-witted as always. Yes. I will be revealing my surprise finally.

Me: yay! :)

see you then!

Yagi: See you then, my dear.

[pennyngram]

Writing A Prettyish Kind of a Little Wilderness

I feel extremely pretentious writing this but whatever.

If you are here because you have just read Pickle’s last chapter, welcome! Otherwise here are some links to the story: AO3 & FF.NET & AHA.

Beware, this post contains SPOILERS below the “keep reading” thing. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The original idea

My first idea for Pickle was: one-shot, Lizzy POV, Modern P&P but everything happens in one afternoon while D&E are stuck alone at Netherfield and they only interact with the outer world through cellphones. Also Wickham is the one that changes E's mind about D at the end & Pemberley is represented by the garden Darcy designed & Lydia ruins everything by interrupting their first kiss (and always having been there, shattering the idea of “we are alone and stranded together”).

As you can see, the wedding toast thing was not part of the original idea.

The wedding toast

It was a total surprise for me. I had previously decided that we would never know if Jane and Charles had actually set Darcy and Lizzy up. In the original draft, D&E would come to suspect something at the end. I had imagined this elaborate scene in which J&C come back late at night (after Lydia had forced D&E to watch some reality show obv) and E would accompany D to his car outside, using it as an excuse to make out some more. But! At that point, they would come by Charles’ car and discover in it the cake J&C were supposed to pick up from the caterer.

So, when did they find the time to pick up the cake if they were with the police the whole time? Had they lied to D&E at some point? Had they faked the whole thing to get them to have that famous blind date? The story would end without a clear answer for both D&E and the reader.

But when I came to write that part in the first draft, it simply didn’t work. It didn’t flow for some reason. I wrote the scene with J&C at the restaurant instead and then created the whole wedding toast thing because of that one scene.

In this way, I made Pickle become a twisted version of “How I Met Your Mother meets Sherlock episode 3x2″ (which is the best episode, you can’t disagree on that one). Since we were there, I added some other little references to HIMYM, which you probably recognized if you watched the series.

Lastly, in case anyone is wondering, I shamelessly took the idea to use [brackets] to differentiate between the different time-lines/settings by To the Lighthouse (1927) by Virginia Woolf (hurrah for English literature students!), who applies the same technique throughout her novel.

The title

As you may have already guessed, the title (”A Prettyish Kind of a Little Wilderness”) comes from something Lady Catherine had the condescendence to say in Chapter 56 of P&P:

“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company.”

I originally chose this title because the focus of the story was supposed be the final revelation of Darcy being the landscape architect behind Netherfield’s park, the place that Elizabeth loves more than anything. With the addition of the whole wedding toast affair, the focus shifted somewhat.

Still, I chose to not change the title. Why?

I don’t know, I probably felt too lazy to look for another one. Also, I had already invented the nickname Pickle and it was too good to waste. Yes, sometimes it works like that :)

The location

This may be interesting. When I wrote Pickle, I decided not to set it in a specific place. I never cited cities or countries or anything that would indicate a place over another (Bangkok being the exception).

I thought it would be interesting to see which Country/city every reader would think the characters lived in, either USA/England/France/Alagaesia/whatever they liked and why not New Zealand? I hear they have some amazing hiking trails there.

So the question is: where did you automatically thought the story was set in?

Mrs Bennet

As I have already said somewhere, Mrs Bennet as a divorce lawyer is not my idea. I took it from “Pride, Prejudice, and Push-Up Bras” by Mary Strand, a modern P&P retelling.

If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. In the original novel, Mrs Bennet is the only one to care about the Bennet sisters’ future because she terrified by the thought of her daughters dying poor and miserable. So she tries to get them married as quickly as she can (with questionable results). In a modern day world, it’s not unreasonable to think that her way to get them financial independence would be to push for a solid and profitable career for all of them.

Mr and Mrs Bennet have marriage problems in any timeline possible and yes, they did lose Lydia for a week or so, so they are still terrible parents.

Wickham

The final thing that changed radically from draft to draft was Wickham.

I had always intended to make him a shady, pathetic man charged with a ridiculous crime and to make him have something to do with the drug dealing world, but he was originally meant to be addicted to drug too.

While I was writing the second draft, I watched Beautiful Boy (2018). Before that, I am ashamed to say that I had never reflected on the everyday struggle of people trying to recover from their addiction.

I realized that keeping Wickham as a drug addict could send the message that being addicted makes you inherently a horrible, evil person, like Wickham is. I decided that that was not a message I wanted this story to send.

So he became someone who coldly approaches young college students and gets them into drugs without being addicted himself.

(how many times have I used the words “drug” and “addicted” in the last two paragraphs? ugh)

Georgiana

Whatever happened with Georgiana and Wickham in Bangkok? I have no idea and no wish to know. What does it matter? I needed Darcy and Wickham to have signed a confidentiality agreement and that’s it. I personally imagine a Bridget Jones 2 situation but you are free to think whatever you like.

And that was the last interesting thing I had to say in regards to Pickle.

The end

[dvoz-alternate]

Run to You pt. 3

werewolf! Joshua x reader

Warnings: fluff, language, slow burning relationship

AN: OC used in fic only appears a few times, (—–) time lapses and pov changes, italics are thoughts/bonded communication

Summary: Graduating from college you moved to a small forest locked town. You aren’t sure why you decide to come here all you know is that you felt pulled to this place. You have heard rumors about the forest, but your need for adventure carries you deeper.

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Previously:

Slowly you pulled yourself away and smiled at what you could assume to be a stunned expression on the gentle beast. Standing you brushed off your pants, “C’mon, I want to see what other interesting things are out here.”

Joshua watched in a daze slightly as you started to wander off. Your touch was addicting and he wanted more of it. Trotting to catch up to you he nudged a hand under his head and onto his back. You only smiled as the two of you walked further into the forest.

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Pulling out your phone as you walked back to the tree bridge you noted that it was almost noon. Turning to look at the sandy colored wolf next to you you smiled. “Thank you for keeping me entertained for the morning, but I need to head into town and look for a job,” you sighed out patting the wolf on the head. Climbing up onto the old tree you started to make your way across before you heard whining. Turning you saw your golden friend giving you what you assumed to be a puppy dog face. You cooed at the face. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you smiled and gave the wolf a small wave before making your way across the bridge.

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Oh, dude... you have it bad. Hansol came to sit beside the sandy wolf as two sets of amber eyes watched you disappear into the woods. Huffing Joshua looked over at the russet colored wolf, but his eyes gave him away. Joshua thought for a moment before slowly turning his head to look at his brother. She said she was looking for a job... Joshua’s thoughts came out slowly as he was putting it together. Mingyu is still looking for someone to work at the bar right? There was a small pause before Hansol replied to the eager wolf. I- I think so? Why? Standing Joshua started to walk back to the house. I think I might have a way to finally meet her in person. Hansol’s ears twitched hearing the smile in Joshua’s voice but followed him home.

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Entering their home, Hansol went to his room to and Joshua saw a familiar head of dark hair in the kitchen. Leaning against the wall he looked up at the taller wolf. “Hey Mingyu.” The male hummed in response not looking up from his cooking. “Could you do me a favor?” Joshua asked a hint of a pleading tone underneath. Stopping what he was doing Mingyu wiped his hands on a towel before looking at Joshua. “What do you need help with?” “You’re still looking for someone to help at the bar right?” “Are you offering to help?” Mingyu asked raising an eyebrow. “No, no. I was with my mate earlier, and I was maybe sort of hoping you would hire her if she asked for a job?” Joshua played with his fingers before looking up at Mingyu. There was a small pause and it made Joshua slightly nervous. “So, what I’m hearing is you need my help to get your girl in person. Yes?” Mingyu wore a smug grin as he crossed his arms having figured out Joshua. “Yeah something sort of like that...” Joshua trailed off rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll hire her if she comes in, but how are you going to make her want to apply when she doesn’t even know you?” “Well... I’m hoping that if I’m in your bar that the bond will help. I know that she feels it already,” Joshua sighed. Mingyu nodded his head slightly before turning back to the food cooking on the stove. “Don’t worry Josh I’ll help set your mate up at the bar.” “Thanks Mingyu,” Joshua felt his chest lighten slightly at the thought. “Just be ready to head out in an hour.”

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Sitting at the kitchen counter you read over some of the ad-listings while munching on a sandwich hoping to find something in this small town. So far only two jobs really stood out to you. One being the small grocery store where you met Mr. Creepy, and two being a bar a few blocks from where you lived. Truthfully neither of them seemed that appealing. Shoving the last piece of your sandwich you wiped your hands on your jeans. “No time like the present,” you mutter to yourself as you grab the newspaper and your car keys. 

Opening up the door to your pickup you slid into the driver’s seat and tossed the newspaper into the passenger seat. Shifting into drive you pulled out of the gravel drive and headed into town.

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Pulling into the small strip mall parking lot you spotted the mini mart from before. It’s only been a few days since you last saw the oddly attractive yet intimidating man, Kitae. You still had yet to move from your spot and actually go into stores to ask for applications. Why were you stalling? It’s not like someone is going to just offer you a job on the streets right? Pulling the keys from the ignition you finally decided to get this job searching over with. Opening the door you slid out onto the pavement and locked the door behind you. After sliding your keys into your pocket you got the distinct feeling that you were being watched. Lifting your head you looked toward the small bar at the end of the strip. In the window there was already someone drinking, and it’s... you looked at the time on your phone, two pm. Alright then... well you do you I guess. The person in the window seemed oddly familiar, but you were far enough away that the sun cast a glare over the window. Tearing your gaze from the window, glared person you lifted a foot to move in the direction of the mini mart only to stop mid-step. You felt a small tug at the base of your head to turn and walk into the bar. The tug freaked you out slightly, and your first reaction was to slap the base of your head. “Damn, that was hard than I thought,” you winced removing your hand. Shaking your head you forced your lead-like feet to move away from the bar. 

Your eyes stayed on the ground as you walked trying to avoid eye contact with the few people on the sidewalk. Remembering the last time you made eye contact with a stranger you were always left baffled at the fact that they were very attractive. You only stopped looking at the ground when you saw a pair of hiking boots fill your vision.

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The man sitting at the window took a sip from the mug in front of him to hide the smirk that was starting to form on his lips. The good thing about being in town is that it was considered neutral territory for the surrounding packs. Kitae knew this and used it to his advantage multiple times. Dark eyes followed the girls form as she retreated further from the bar.

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“Hey Josh,” Mingyu called from the back room. Joshua hummed a response as he walked to the back to see what Mingyu needed. “Will you run down to the store? I called and made an order since we were running low on things, and they have it ready. Could you go and pick it up?” Mingyu asked wiping his hands on a towel as he stood up to look at his friend. “Yeah, I can do that. You are helping me anyway,” Joshua shrugged. “Thanks man,” Mingyu walked out to the front with Joshua. Moving to the till behind the bar Mingyu took out a couple of bills before handing them to Joshua. Folding them Joshua slid them into his pocket while he headed to the exit. “See you in a few,” Joshua called with a wave over his shoulder. 

It didn’t take long to get the items Mingyu needed. Handing over the bills to the cashier Joshua waited patiently to get the change back before heading back to the bar. Although the wolf inside Joshua was pacing back and forth remembering the one-sided conversation he shared with his mate earlier had him looking out windows all day hoping to get a glimpse of familiarity again. “Have a good day sir,” the cashier smiled at him handing him his items. Joshua gave a small thank you and headed to the exit.

 Opening the door Joshua’s eyes widened in alarm as he almost hit a person with the door. The alarm in his eyes shifted to recognition when peach and vanilla hit his nose. Joshua finally watched as the female lifted her head, and it was you. Joshua smiled down softly at you before he realized that this was probably super awkward. “I, um sorry. Were you going in?” Joshua fumbled moving to hold the door open for you. Mentally he was kicking himself for how stupid he sounded in front of his mate.

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Raising your head you sucked in a short, sharp breath. It was that beautiful man that you unintentionally had a staring contest with from inside your truck. Your brain seemed to short circuit in the close proximity to the man who was holding the door open for you. The only reasonable reaction your mind could form was to giggle at the stutter from nervous looking male. “I don’t remember what I was going into the store for now,” you told him. You couldn’t help but think that these eyes were so familiar to you, and this is your first time having a conversation with this man. 

“You seem familiar,” you mumbled not realizing that you said this out loud until you heard the beautiful sound of the man’s chuckle. “I get that sometimes. I’m Joshua Hong,” he held out the hand that wasn’t holding a bag to you. You gave him a nervous smile but shook his hand nonetheless. “(Y/N) (L/N).” You felt electricity run up your arm as you held the hand of the beautiful stranger.

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Joshua smiled down at your joined hands. He had now figured out not only your name, but also how sparks seemed to fly when you both connected. The wolf that was inside Joshua was purring rather loudly. Joshua covered up the purr with a cough and gave you a sheepish smile, and reluctantly removed his hand from yours. “Well (Y/N), if you have nothing to do today would you allow me to get to know you better?” Giving him a small smile you stepped away from the door, “Lead the way Joshua.”

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masterlist

previously I next

[lily-mj-fae]

Oh yeah. Friends. If you’re outdoorsy, please DO NOT EVER support the brand @virtika​!

David Lesh behind it is known for thinking laws to protect wildlife and other national park places don’t apply to him. He laughs in the face of the rules and think it’s funny. He’s snow-mobiled in off-limits areas, Crashed a plane in the pacific ocean, and tresspassed Keystone at the beginning of the closures for COVID.

Most recently, he posted a photo of himself standing on a log at Hanging Lake. If you don’t know where/what that is, or why it’s bad, below is a photo. Also, google it, because there are much better photographers with absolutely breath taking photos. And while yes there is a trail, and yes there was some work done to make it accessible, there are still strict rules and plenty of care into preserving everything around it. It is one of the most....amazing hikes I’ve ever seen and in pretty good condition too.

There are strict rules that have made it possible for this lake to still be so clear and beautiful that you can not only see the bottom of it, but all the fish swimming in it. And that is because Human’s aren’t allowed in the water. They aren’t allowed off the trail at all. There are rules posted everywhere, including next to the log that he stood on, telling you that you can swim, fish, or climb on the logs as well as plenty of other things. 

David Lesh of Virtika outerwear doesn’t care. He laughs at anyone who thinks he’s wrong. He’s just awful. So please don’t support this business. He thinks he’s above the laws, and doesn’t care about nature or preserving it. And places like this, they need to preserved.

People like him are why this trail now costs money to go on, because they needed to be able to maintain it after people started disrespecting the trail. And when people like him so careless do this, and don’t get punished, others think they can. And then we’ll either lose access to this site altogether for protection’s sake, or we’ll lose it to humanity’s destruction. And it’s too beautiful a place for either. So let this company fail. And hope that he gets arrested because apparently just fines and court aren’t enough for this man to actually learn that in Colorado, we respect nature. 

[vateacancameos]

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1134 Fandom: Imagine Me & You (2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luce/Rachel (Imagine Me & You) Characters: Luce (Imagine Me & You), Rachel (Imagine Me & You) Additional Tags: Autumn, Established Relationship, Pictures, Foliage, Post-Canon, Knitting, blatant misuse of knitted things, because Luce is always cold, One Shot Series: Part 5 of snapshots of autumn, Part 2 of Knitting Keeps Both of Our Hands Warm Summary:

Part of the snapshots of autumn series, which tells stories of ladies in love during autumn, this story can be read independently.

Rachel and Luce go leaf peeping. Luce overdresses.

Story:

“Hey, you.”

Rachel smiled but kept her eyes closed. She was taking in the perfect autumn air—crisp but sunny, the breeze bringing scents of fires, chestnuts, and cinnamon. She held that moment in her mind, captured it so she could remember it when it was freezing winter or boiling summer. Then she opened her eyes to add her wife to that picture, but moment was ruined by the ridiculous amount of yarn that Luce had piled on her person. Rachel’s rule for leaf peeping was no coats, which Luce had followed in letter if not in spirit.

She hid a giggle behind her hand. “Really, Luce? It’s not that cold.”

Luce glowered from beneath a floppy winter hat, her mouth half-tucked behind a chunky cowl. “It’s nice enough now, but how about in two hours when the sun goes behind the clouds, the wind kicks up, and we’re out of tea? I’d rather be overprepared than under, thank you very much.”

read the rest under the cut

She had at least forgone her winter mittens, settling for the more appropriate autumnal fingerless gloves she wore no matter the time of year, but she ruined the effect with a bulky jumper covered by a down waistcoat. The knitted ensemble was completed by the wool socks peeping out from the tops of her sturdy hiking boots.

“Darling,” Rachel said with a shake of her head, “you know that I adore that you request and wear everything I knit for you, but you really don’t have to wear everything at once.”

Thought Rachel’s knitting had improved vastly in years since they’d met, it looked a little odd when worn all at once, given that the hat was a bright fuchsia, the gloves rust orange, and the cowl a Kelly green (Luce could have at least worn the one that matched the gloves). Thankfully the jumper was an inoffensive grey and the waistcoat white.

“I’ll wear whatever it takes to keep me warm, while thanking God your favorite season is not winter.” Luce rubbed her hands together, and Rachel took pity on her, handing her a cardboard cup. “I already have tea,” she said, indicating her knapsack.

“Do you not cherish our traditions, woman? This is cider,” Rachel said in mock outrage. They always drank cider on their way out of the city to go leaf peeping.

“Of course, how silly of me.” Luce’s scowl melted, and she winked at Rachel. “Let us proceed with the next tradition: sitting in traffic while following the path of leaf peepers gone before us. Where to this year, my lady?”

Rachel loved planning their yearly trips almost as much as she loved taking them. It was a challenge to find the hidden gems, the roads less traveled. Between her own journalism research skills and Hec’s travel knowledge, she usually managed to find the places without overcrowded car parks and walking trails. And Luce always appreciated the secluded spots, for her picture taking if nothing else.

Linking their arms, Rachel pulled them forward to Luce’s car down the street. “It’s a surprise, of course. You drive, I navigate.” They parted at the car, and Rachel gasped as she glanced in the back seat while opening the car door. “You have a coat!” she accused, eyes narrowing.

“It’s a rain poncho, for emergencies. I always have it in my car, you know that.” Luce rolled her eyes and turned the ignition. “Which way?”

“Fine, I’ll allow it, this time. But you better not touch it even once today.”

“That rule is ridiculous. Which way?”

“It is not!” Rachel argued. “M40. There’s something about cheeks flushed from the chill, cold fingers warming in front of car heater vents, hot tea steam on your face.” She was back in her happy place just thinking about it. Autumn was the best.

Luce scoffed, but she was smiling fondly. She put the car in drive and pulled onto the street.

“My lips warming yours?” Rachel tried.

Luce raised an eyebrow. “I could be persuaded.”

“Coming home and warming up in front of the fire … clothing optional?”

“Well, when you put it that way …”

Rachel leaned over and gave her wife a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, for going along with my mad schemes.”

“They’re not mad. Just … colder than I like. Plus, they give me a reason to request more knitted things. Which I can then wear and show much I’m loved.”

“From your get-up, you’re the most loved person alive.”

Luce beamed. “I am.”

🍁🍂🍁

“Bloody hell, Rache. We’ve passed three perfectly good spots already.”

Rachel frowned, eyes darting at the brightly clothed trees that surrounded them. “I don’t want perfectly good. I want perfect, full stop.” She took measure of the tree in front of her, shook her head, and kept walking. Next year she was definitely investing in a pair of Luce’s hiking boots. Hers were giving her a blister on her heel. But she wasn’t letting it ruin her mood. She could be cranky about it tomorrow.

Just as she was about to give up and agree to the last spot, she gasped. “There it is. Gorgeous.” She put a hand out to stop Luce, who grunted.

“It’s the same– Ohhhh,” she breathed. “Perfect.”

It was perfect. A sunbeam hit at just the right spot through the trees. It would light them up wonderfully. “Hurry, before the sun goes behind the clouds again!”

Luce pulled off her pack, rummaging inside for her travel tripod, getting it set up in record time. She grabbed her remote, and Rachel practically ran them to the spot under the riotously red and gold tree. She considered making Luce take off that ridiculous hat (one of her earlier attempts, bulky and knitted in an ugly shade of bright purple-pink, but Luce loved it) and cowl combo, but she wanted to be true to the memories of the day, which included Luce’s eye-searing get-up. She pulled her wife closer with their linked hands, free hand tucking into Luce’s elbow.

“Ready?” Luce asked with a laugh but let herself be pulled closer. “I’m going to take a few, so hold still.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rachel got her smile ready. Not hard when she was standing next to the person she loved most, in the season that was her favorite, surrounded by lovely colors and chilled air.

The camera whirred and clicked a couple of times before Rachel turned her head to nuzzle Luce’s cheek. She just knew that Luce would be smiling softly in the last picture. It would be perfect.

And it was.

The last picture joined several years’ worth of autumnal pictures on their mantle, and a copy graced Rachel’s desk at work so she could look at it any time she needed a pick-me-up. It was her favorite, ridiculous hat and all.

[turkleader]

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗖

BOLD what applies to your muse ITALICIZE what sometimes applies

Repost, Don’t Reblog!

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways

𝐑𝐄𝐃 wine soaked lips / internalised rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / possessive love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 marshy swamps / Cajun recipes / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / laboured breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grotto / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theatre productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theatres / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art

[ooc] Once upon a time you knew the ocean. Once upon a time, you were root and stone. I’m afraid all you have now, Tseng, is silence and storm. Maybe, someday, things will be different.

Tagged By: @animus-inspire - This was a difficult one, but very interesting to delve into. Thank you, Reeve-mun. I love that you keep tagging me in these explorations~ Tagging: @gospelia, @kychchc / @hartbeating (Hope your new blog has been doing well, friend~), @lostwhitequeen (Yes, Reeve already tagged you, but I’m dragging you into this as well. *Chuckles*), anyone else that wishes to partake.