#Thank you - you've lit up my Sunday morning

[carlos-in-glasses]

I want you to know that your writing is so beautiful, and I think the amount of effort you put in to making other people feel good on Tumblr and in their fics is really something. I aspire to be more like you :)

Oh anon! I love it when the souls of anons are radiant and you can just feel it all glowing behind that little grey sunglasses face.

Thank you for being so sweet about my writing! I'm absolutely hilariously terrible at everything else so it's good to know that I have something okay going on!

I've been part of this fandom for roughly a year now. As it's my first fandom (and I understand they all vibe differently anyway???) it's taken me some time to find my feet, come out of my shell, learn certain etiquettes, and also learn what gives me the most joy. What I've found is - making other writers and artists feel good and encouraged is the best. I don't always do it right, and I'm sorry I can't do it for more people more quicky - as my spare time is limited (as is everybody's, of course) so I want to take this opportunity to apologise for being so behind with reading. (If anyone sees this and has tips for time management/managing a big Marked For Later list, please share!!!)

I also want to take this opportunity to say that if anyone wants me to tag them in WIP games or anything, please let me know as I'd be so happy to whenever I participate!!! I love experiencing fic through snippets and getting excited about it and sharing it around. Snippets and the moodboards people make are in themselves an artform and it's so great. Sometimes I forget to include 'open tag' in WIP tags but I'm going to do that more.

I just LOVE that I've found a community of people who are as gone for Tarlos and Lone Star as I am. It's such a treasure and I genuinely think I'm a more happy and confident person than I was this time last year. Thank YOU, anon, for that, because you're part of the whole thing that keeps the fandom going. ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

Please have the moment Carlos is terrified awake and balls up and passes the blanket to TK and TK takes it because this is my favourite moment ever ever:

[astrozuya]

☆ SUNDAY MORNING — hong joshua.

⊹ . ♡ pairings. joshua x male!reader. fluff. 0.7k wc. warnings: established relationship. ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

you've always secretly thought of joshua hong as perfect. logically, you know that humans are messy and imperfect despite however they might appear on the surface, but looking at joshua, you just can't see it.

maybe it's the rose tinted glasses of budding love painting him in a different light, but to you, joshua could never be anything but perfect.

it's a thought that often crosses your mind when you think about your boyfriend, and it's one that presents itself now, as he emerges from the bedroom and stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, smiling sleepily at you.

his hair is fluffy and mussed up, his eyes and skin lit up golden by the sunlight, and when he mumbles out a quiet, "good morning, sweetheart," his voice is a little hoarse and sleepy, though it still has that honeyed quality to it that you've come to know and adore.

you're so lost in affection for him that it isn't until he sits down on the couch next to you that you realize you haven't replied. "good morning," you say quickly, still a little distracted by how pretty he looks. shua likes calling you 'pretty boy', but in your opinion, no one could ever, ever beat shua at being pretty. the word was made for him.

joshua smiles mischievously at you and pulls you onto his lap. his shirtless chest and arms are warm as they close around you. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and mumbles, "what were you thinking about that had you so lost in thought, hm?"

you glance up at him, taking in the warm tones of his skin, the rich brown hues of his eyes, the way the sunlight filtering in through the windows dances across the lines of his face. "you."

shua laughs, a little flustered, and takes your hand in his, threading his fingers through yours. "your flirting is too much for me, prince, i'm swooning."

the nickname is one shua often uses for you, but it still has you melting. you avert your eyes from his and glance instead at the soft material of his sweatpants. "you're one to talk."

joshua grins at that and relaxes into the couch, tightening his grip around you. when you try and get up he frowns and pulls you closer, whining, "no, stay. for a little longer, okay?"

"but shua, it's—"

"sunday morning!" then he adds, "time to relax and cuddle with me. if you try and move, i'll start singing—"

"please, no." you reply flatly. you love shua's voice, but you've gotten sick of hearing sunday morning. you've heard him sing it so many times you could sing it in your sleep. "shua, i have to get up."

"nooo," he whines playfully. "stay, and then i'll make us breakfast later."

you level him with a serious look. "pancakes?"

he nods back, equally serious. "pancakes. with syrup and fruit and everything."

"hmm." you tilt your head to the side playfully, as if considering the offer, even though you know that there's nothing you want more than to stay close to him for eternity. "...alright then."

shua smiles smugly and presses a kiss to your exposed neck. "you look good in my sweatshirt, by the way."

you hadn't even noticed you'd worn his sweatshirt. maybe it had something to do with the uncomfortable restlessness and thoughts running through your head that caused you to wake up early. you'd grabbed his clothes to wear almost unconsciously, seeking comfort in the familiar softness, and the safe scent of joshua's clothes— sunlight and his strawberry shampoo.

"sorry," you start to reply, only for him to cut you off. "it's fine, love. like i said, you look good in it."

"thanks." then you smile at him. "you look good without it."

he gasps dramatically, looking down first at his shirtless chest, then at your playful smile. "y/n, i said i couldn't handle your flirting, are you trying to kill me?"

"but you're a bigger flirt," you counter. he hums and rests his chin on your shoulder. "only with you."

your gaze flickers up to meet his, and he leans in, lips slightly parted, his eyes shimmering with desire.

you angle your head up and press your lips to his, and his hand goes to rest against your back.

it's fine, you suppose. the pancakes can wait.

notes: requested by @haocovr. this req was so cute omg, elio i hope i did ur request justice and that u liked this !!

[viesanterieures]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

summary: The reader works as an artist who has never had a breakthrough until she decides to paint Robert.

warnings: this is a kinda cute and funny story so… no warnings :)

word count: 2500+

Masterlist

The air was warm as Robert turned into the familiar driveway. It was late October in Sydney, summer was just around the corner and the driveway was full of flowers and other plants. Today was Sunday, one of the few days he had to himself and his friends. During the week, he worked from early morning until late at night, as befits the future CEO of a multi-million dollar empire. Before he had even rung the bell, the door opened and a woman with shoulder-length brown hair pulled him into her arms. "Robert, how nice of you to come. We haven't seen each other in at least two months."

He laughed a little and patted his best friend on the shoulder. "I've had a lot on my mind, I'm sorry, Rebecca." Robert had known her since they were children. They had gone to kindergarten together and Rebecca was two years younger than him. All the friendships of his childhood, youth and university days had not lasted because many people thought he was arrogant, but Rebecca had always been there for him. As a child, as a teenager, as a student, at his wedding... and also at his divorce three years ago.

"How is your father, Robbie?" she wanted to know. Suddenly the smile on his face faded. "It doesn't look so good. He'll probably have to go back into hospital next month for a surgery." Rebecca looked at him compassionately and nodded silently as she took his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

I'm glad I can at least visit you," he quickly changed the subject.

"I'm glad too, Robbie," she said with a bright smile again.

"YN is also here, I hope you don't mind."

"No Becca, that‘s cool," Robert said, following her into the living room.

YN was Rebecca's younger sister and Robert quite liked her. She was one of those people who believed in destiny, the supernatural, spiritual things and tarot cards, which Robert didn't think much of. But she had always been very warm and kind to him and Robert was sure that there wasn't a single bad bone in this woman's body. She was just the way she was. As far as Robert knew, she worked full time in a perfumery and in her free time as an artist, but she remained rather unsuccessful. Her face immediately lit up when she saw him and gave him a friendly wave. She was wearing a pink dress, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, gold earrings and red lipstick. She was really pretty.

"Robert, how nice to see you! I brought some cupcakes, would you like one? They're homemade." She held out a bowl of pink muffins with strawberries and sprinkles to him. Robert gratefully took one and sat down on the couch next to the two women.

"It‘s really good," Robert praised YN's baking skills after taking a bite.

"Thank you, Robert. I baked them at 3 o'clock in the night because I couldn't sleep... It was another full moon. And my moon calender says that I should concentrate more on housework now, especially cooking and baking“.

He tried to hide his surprised expression and took another bite. Rebecca didn't seem confused by the explanation, she knew her sister well enough. Finally, YN slowly bent down towards them. "And do you know what my horoscope said?" Robert and Rebecca shook their heads.

"That I'm going to have my breakthrough this month," she finally said excitedly.

"You mean with your art?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Yes! I'm going to have a huge success. But I don't know what motif to choose." YN picked at her dress thoughtfully. "A portrait or a landscape... I'm not sure. I need a subject to practise on first. Just to get back into it. I haven't painted for months.

"You've painted me so many times," Rebecca said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "How about you painting Robert?"

YN's face lit up at the words. "That's a wonderful idea! Robert, you have such a beautiful face... Like an angel!"

Robert almost choked on his cupcake. "Please what?"

"Oh come on Robbie, she just wants to practise," Rebecca interjected.

Sighing, he looked into YN's bright eyes and shrugged. "Yes, why not..."

YN cheered immediately and hugged Robert happily. "But I can't sit still for like eight hours," Robert replied quickly.

"You don't have to do that," YN said. "You can come with me to my studio, I'll draw the outlines and a sketch, then I'll take a photo of you to paint the details later. If you like and have the time, we can start right away. It would mean so much to me, Robert, really!" He smiled and nodded again. He just couldn't look away from YN's eyes.

***

"Nice studio," Robert said, breaking the awkward silence. He looked around curiously. YN's studio was a bright room with large windows letting in the daylight. There were easels full of canvases and tubes of paint everywhere and the smell of fresh paint was in the air.

"Robert, I told you not to move," laughed YN, who sat behind a canvas. The two had left for YN's that afternoon. Now the sun was already setting outside and Robert felt as if he had been sitting on the floor in front of her for ages.

"I'll be done with the outlines in a minute."

"Good, because my butt is already hurting," Robert grumbled.

A short moment later, YN put the brush down, clapped her hands and grabbed a camera lying on a chair next to her. "Well, I'm done for today. Let's take the photo quickly."

Robert moved back into position and looked a little tiredly at the camera. A few seconds after YN had taken the picture, he collapsed. "My God, this is more exhausting than I thought."

YN laughed. "I believe you. I've been a model too."

"Can I have a look?" Robert asked curiously, sitting up with a groan.

"Sure, come here." YN turned the canvas a little.

"Oh, this is definitely... Art." If Robert was honest, he couldn't really make out much on the canvas. It looked more like a wild doodle of a man who, with a lot of imagination, could look like him. And for this he had been sitting in an uncomfortable position on the cold floor for almost two hours?

"I'll start working on the details tomorrow. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Robert forced a friendly smile, YN pulled him into a tight hug to say goodbye and he left the house, a little disappointed.

Days and weeks passed without Robert hearing a word from YN. He didn't know how far she'd got with the painting, or if she'd even thrown it away. But then, one Saturday evening, she finally called him to say that she had finished the painting and that he could come and see it tomorrow. Of course Robert couldn't resist the opportunity, as he was actually quite curious to see how the painting would look now, although he had little hope that it would be any better than the last time.

He finally arrived at YN's door at 10am the next morning. She immediately greeted him friendly and offered him a cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.

"Nice of you to come," she said and excitedly pulled him by the sleeve into her studio. "Close your eyes."

Robert did as she asked, although he was a little confused by her instructions. YN carefully led him to the easel in the middle of the room.

"And open your eyes."

Robert looked curiously at the painting in front of him, but then his jaw dropped and he couldn't get a word out.

"I've thrown away the old painting and made a new one. Isn't it gorgeous?"

He couldn't believe his eyes. The painting was insanely beautiful. It must have taken an eternity to work out all the details. He'd never seen so much care in YN's work, who usually painted in a rather chaotic way. Every single strand of Robert's dark hair was painted perfectly and precisely, and you could almost count every single eyelash. But most striking of all were the eyes, which stood out almost ghostly from the rest of the rather dark picture.

"It's so beautiful," he marvelled, running his finger carefully over the dry canvas. "But why am I wearing a sheer white shirt? I wore a normal black shirt that day. And my eyes look almost inhuman."

"Artistic freedom," YN quickly replied. "I wanted you to look a bit ethereal in the painting."

Robert nodded slowly with a raised eyebrow, then smiled again. "It‘s still so beautiful."

"You can have it if you want," YN offered.

He shook his head immediately. "No, no, keep it. It must have been so time-consuming that I don't want to take it away from you. I'm sure it's better off in your studio than in my house. But... promise me you won't sell it, okay?"

She nodded quickly and looked Robert straight in the eye. "No, I won't. I've made another artwork that I'm going to submit to the art competition."

Robert looked at her, confused. "To what?"

"Oh, I haven't told you yet. The art museum is running a competition this month. If I win, my painting will be on display there, isn't that great? Mrs Buchanan from the museum is coming to see the painting tomorrow. She's a good friend of my aunt's."

"That's great. Then I'll be rooting for you to win!"

Eventhough Robert had recently doubted YN's talent, he'd wished her all the best, especially now that he'd seen the beautiful portrait.

"And here it is," she joyfully pulled a cloth from a easel beside her.

"Oh, um... what is it exactly?" Robert asked, a little embarrassed as he couldn't make out more than a few patches of dark green on a grey background.

"The painting is called 'The Fog Forest'. The theme of the competition is 'Between reality and fiction: a journey into imagination'," explained YN. "The green stands for the trees of the forest and the grey is the fog and shadows, where you can easily get lost and dream.

"Oh, um, very nice." Robert forced a smile. "I'm sure Mrs Buchanan will recognise it immediately, also the deeper meaning, unlike me. You know I don't know much about art."

"I know that, Robert. But it's so kind of you to support me," she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now, I have another appointment. Busy schedule as a future CEO... you know," he replied quickly, then looked at her pretty face and felt his heart beating in his chest.

***

"Becc, when I tell you! I've never seen such a beautiful painting." It was just after half past seven the next evening and Robert was glad to be off work. He stood in his kitchen, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he chopped vegetables into small cubes.

"Are you sure, Robert? I've known YN long enough and she's never painted anything else than a few dots and lines," Rebecca's voice came over the loudspeaker. Robert thoughtfully placed the pieces of vegetable in a pot.

"I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe she was possessed by the ghost of Leonardo Davinci that night or something." At this moment Robert's doorbell rang. "I have to hang up, Becc, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow again." Confused, Robert wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to the front door. Who the hell was that? As he opened the front door, he saw a familiar face but also an unfamiliar one. In front of him stood YN, as always in one of her summer dresses and her big earrings, and next to her a tall, slim older lady with a tight bun and a blazer, looking at him curiously.

"Hey YN... what are you doing here? And who are you?" Robert wanted to know, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, it's him! I recognise him," the unknown lady said excitedly as she looked at him more closely.

YN tapped nervously with one foot and took a deep breath. "Robert, this is Mrs Buchanan from the art museum, she wants to have you."

"Wait, what? She wants to have me?" Robert laughed confused.

"Not you. The painting of you." The lady quickly clarified. "It's really gorgeous. What a work of art. It perfectly reflects our theme for this month. Between reality and fiction... Almost like a modern version of the Dorian Gray's portrait," she enthused.

Robert's jaw dropped and he looked at YN, stunned. "But... but you submitted a completely different painting to the competition. The one with the forest."

"Oh, please, sir, you couldn't even see any trees, forest or anything in the picture," she replied sharply, and Robert didn't miss YN's sad face. "I saw this masterpiece in the corner of her studio and asked her if she wanted to submit this instead of that… Fog-Forest... thing."

"This is not possible, I‘m sorry," Robert replied firmly.

"Why not?" Mrs Buchanan asked.

"I am a serious businessman, madam, about to take over a company worth millions. What would my employees and clients think of me if they saw the painting of me as an…an…ethereal creature? I have to maintain a certain respectability." Robert bit his lower lip as soon as he said these words. He realised that this was YN's last chance and that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a painter.

"It's okay, Robert“, YN said quietly. "I understand." Forcing a smile, she turned around together with Mrs Buchanan.

For Robert, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. He didn't want YN's dream to be shattered like his own. He had always aspired to become a professional musician and study music, but his father had always stopped him because he wanted him to take over the company one day. Even though Robert didn't even think he was the right person for this huge job.

"Wait, YN." The echo of his voice sounded down the driveway, the two women, who were about to get back into the car, immediately turned around.

"Let‘s do this, YN."

****

"A glass of champagne, sir?" asked an elegantly dressed lady next to him, balancing a small tray in front of her.

"No, thank you, madam. I don't drink alcohol at the moment," Robert declined her offer in a friendly voice.

"And for our winner? On the house, of course," she asked YN, who was standing next to him. She gratefully accepted a glass. The exhibition was in full swing. Many different artists were exhibiting that day, but no artwork attracted as many glances as YN's. Rebecca joined them and patted her sister on the shoulder. "I looked at it again, it really is amazing. How did you do it?"

"I don't even know it myself. It's as if my hands painted it themselves," YN replied, taking a sip from her glass.

"That supports Robert's Davinci theory," Rebecca chuckled.

YN looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Rebecca replied quickly, pointing to the glass in her sister's hand. "Hey, where did you get the champagne?" she wanted to know.

"From that lady over there," YN replied with a grin and immediately Rebecca was gone in the crowd.

"I'm so sorry," Robert said quietly. "For what?" she wanted to know in surprise.

"For underestimating you... You and your art... You‘re such a wonderful, strong and unique woman."

YN bit her lip and Robert felt that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Robert." They remained silent as they watched the visitors pass by the artworks.

"So my horoscope was right after all," YN told Robert. "I really had my breakthrough. Do you believe in them now?" she wanted to know.

"Maybe," Robert replied thoughtfully.

"Do you know what else he said besides success?", she asked him.

Robert shook his head and smiled curiously.

"That I will also find love this month," she said quietly, putting her glass down on a small table beside her. "Maybe it was the love I felt for you when I painted that picture that made it so beautiful. Maybe that was the reason for all the success.“

Robert looked into her eyes and gently stroked her soft hair. Finally, he slowly pulled her into his arms and their lips touched immediately.

- 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

[supermanshield]

superbat fic where theyre trying to wrangle everyones busy schedule? jl meetings, galas, someones birthday dinner, someones recital, theres a lot to account for lol

Oh anon, you know this is my favourite trope for superbat! <3 Thank you for the ask and sorry it took a while, but here it is. And I really let myself go, didn't count the words but it's way more than 100.

-------------------------------------

"Tonight?"

"I can't, Damian's teacher wants to speak to me. Again." Bruce sighed and flicked through the calendar on his phone. Almost every day was completely filled with appointments, meetings, league meetings, monitor duty, patrol time. Hmm... "How about Saturday morning?"

"I go running with Lois, you know that. And you probably won't be awake, anyway."

"You could just... start without me."

"Bruce!" The people at the table next to them looked up. Clark shut his mouth and sat back, embarrassed. Bruce went back to his phone. Clark still carried around a paper agenda, for some reason, and flicked through that.

"Saturday evening is Cass' ballet recital...."

"We definitely can't miss that," Clark confirmed. Bruce shook his head in agreement.

"Sunday you've got the annual Zenith Awards and Gala. Hmm."

Clark groaned. "I wouldn’t mind missing that one. Or sneak out during. I don't need to hear Luthor talk all evening."

"As one of the nominees? Clark, no. I'll be there to cheer you on, and protect you from the big bad Lex by talking over him."

Clark chuckled. "You're the best." His face lit up. "Oh. So after, we could sneak out together..."

"Won't do. It'll be too late by then.” He lowered his voice. “and I'll have to go straight to patrol."

"And Monday I've got a late monitor shift. Tuesday Dick's coming over for dinner, Wednesday..."

"Board meeting, you know that."

Clark nodded. "Right. Thursday I promised to help Jon... up north," he said, indicating the direction of the fortress with his eyebrows. He sat back, defeated, staring at his agenda. "So that's it, no time at all this week? Not even a little gap somewhere? I can be quick."

"And that's not always a good thing, Kent." Clark almost choked on his coffee. If he could. "And this is not even counting any..." Bruce looked over at the other table, lowered his volume so only Clark could hear. "Any of the unexpected things we deal with." Clark nodded solemnly, and leaned over the table closer to Bruce. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Supervillains could visit, or break out, or natural disasters could occur. They were used to dropping everything at a moment's notice when they were needed. It was the rest of their lives that were so busy. 

"This was to be expected with four full-time jobs and 9 children between us," Bruce concluded, leaning over the table as well, meeting Clark halfway to put his glasses back on his face.

"I can't believe it's come to this already. We have to plan our sex time."

"If you call it sex time again, we might not have to plan it at all anymore, Clark."

Clark couldn't hold back a laugh at that. He brushed some hair out of Bruce's face. His mouth was curved in a genuine smile, a smirk he usually only saw in the bedroom. He still couldn't believe they had finally gotten together, and he was so happy with Bruce in his life, but it was hard sometimes, to keep meeting halfway and around their schedules, between battles and fights and missions, and daily life.

Bruce perked up suddenly, eyes opening wide. "Clark," he said. "What are we doing?"

Clark frowned. "A date? Just two regular guys on a date?"

"And what could we be doing."

A lightbulb came on in Clark's head, but he wasn't convinced yet. "Hey, a date is important too. I don't want our relationship to only consist of quickies in the broom closet."

"I agree," Bruce said hastily, and it warmed Clark's heart. "But we just established that you won't get any of me for at least a week, so I choose sex. Right now. We still have an hour." He stared intently into Clark’s eyes.

"Okay." Clark took a sip of the coffee that they were about to abandon, and held up one finger. "But only if you stay in bed with me after."

“Fine,” Bruce grumbled, but the skip in his heartbeat was unmistakable. 

Bruce paid for their coffees quickly, while Clark waited with his jacket by the door. As they left the little café, he could hear the couple that had sat next to them talking over their food.

“Ahh, young love,” the woman mused.

“Dear, those guys were at least in their forties.”

“You have no sense of romance, Derrick.” 

Clark smiled, jogging after Bruce into the alleyway to take him home.

[naesarangyunho]

Patronus- Jeong Yunho (Harry Potter AU)

[I don't own these images credits to the original owners]

SFW

Synopsis: Just a cute little piece of domestic Yunho and y/n but with magic. I've wanted to do a Harry Potter AU for so long so I decided why not write one with soft Yunho.

Contains: fluff, husband! Yunho, father! Yunho, Harry Potter terminology, Yunho is a professional Quidditch player because I say so

[Word Count: 2k]

Y/N had been slaving away in the kitchen for most of the morning, preparing a large meal.

Her in-laws were visiting for Sunday lunch and she wanted everything to be perfect.

Her feet ached from standing for so long and even though she knew that she could cut the time it took for her to cook and bake in half with the use of her wand, she was determined to avoid using magic. She'd always firmly believed that food should be made by hand and with love.

As she finally placed the two pies she'd been working on (one of her signature apple crumbles as well as a beautiful blackberry pie) in the oven she felt arms snake around her waist.

She was pulled back into her husband's chest and felt him kiss her neck. She chuckled and turned around in his hold to wrap her arms around his neck.

"What's up? Are you missing me?"

He nodded, "You've been busy all morning. You know you don't have to go through so much effort, my love. My parents love you and would probably be satisfied with meat, rice and that amazing kimchi you always make."

"I know; they've said so before but I still want everything to be perfect. It's not often that they come to visit us in England."

He cupped her face in one of his hands and pecked her lips, "I love you."

She smiled and pecked his lips, "And I love you."

He grinned and pulled her tight against him, leaning in to kiss her properly. She sighed happily against his mouth as she returned the kiss.

They kissed slowly and softly, just enjoying the embrace of their lover and the faint music that Y/n had playing softly in the kitchen to keep her motivated as she cooked.

He ended the kiss all too soon and kissed her nose and then her cheek as he began to slowly rock them to and fro in time with the music.

She rested her head on his shoulder and let herself be swayed, listening to him hum softly to the music.

Their warm, loving bubble was pierced by loud, high-pitched cries.

Yunho and Y/n both sighed heavily at the sound.

"Looks like someone still doesn't like naps," Y/n muttered.

"I think she just gets lonely," Yunho chuckled.

He gave his wife a quick kiss, "You finish up in here, I'll go and take care of Haneul."

"Thank you." Y/n gave him a grateful smile. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, too busy attending to their eighteen-month-old daughter who was still unable to sleep through the night. Usually, she and Yunho took turns to go and check on her but he'd been dead asleep last night and she hadn't had the heart to wake him. Being a professional Quidditch player was taxing sometimes, and he was always exhausted after matches.

Yunho left her to finish up in the kitchen and disappeared down the hall to their daughter's nursery.

It wasn't long before she heard the wails of her baby be replaced with giggles. She smiled to herself; Yunho had always been so good with kids.

She wondered what he'd done this time to get her to stop crying. Last time he'd Accio-ed a chocolate frog into the nursery and set it loose. Not ideal but Haneul had found it very amusing.

She set a timer for the pies and took off her flour-dusted apron before making her way to her husband and daughter.

She'd expected him to be doing something silly like making her toys float around the room like he often did but instead she was greeted by the sight of him sitting on the carpet with Haneul in his lap as his Patronus lit up the room.

She gasped softly as she watched the golden retriever bound through the air, tail wagging and mouth open with silent barks, casting a white-blue glow over the room.

It was beautiful and something she hadn't seen in a long time.

Haneul was mesmerised by the imagery and her little mouth was open and curved into a big smile.

Yunho was smiling too, looking between his Patronus and his daughter's face to watch her reaction.

She'd never seen his Patronus so strong and stunning. It had always been something he struggled with back in the day in school, earning him subpar grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It had never been a case of struggling to find a happy memory; he just had too many and could never really settle on one to focus on specifically. He would flip through his happy memories as if turning the pages in a photo album as he cast his Patronus and the constant changes in thought as he struggled to focus on one specific memory would cause the Patronus to flicker in and out of existence or have it fighting to stay lit up.

She wondered what had changed. Had he been practising or something?

He spotted her standing in the doorway and blushed. His Patronus faltered and then dissipated as he lost focus and looked at his wife.

Haneul let out a squeak of confusion at the sudden disappearance of the doggy she wanted to play with and she looked up at her dad.

He kissed her hair, lifted her and rested her on his hip as he walked over to his wife.

"Hey,"

"Hey," She responded with a soft smile, "That was beautiful, Yu."

"I… Thank you." He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, the tips of his ears red.

"And then? Why are you so coy all of a sudden?"

"Nothing. I suppose it's just been a long time since I cast a Patronus or since you'd seen it." He responded, bouncing Haneul gently on his hip.

"Why would you be shy about it though, darling?"

"I don't know… Your Patronus has always been so vibrant and unique, mine has never really been able to compete."

"Yunho."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure if you saw what I just saw but that was the most beautiful Patronus you have ever cast. You would have passed with honours in DADA with that creation."

"You think?"

"Yes, I do. And what do you mean yours could never compare to mine? Honey, my Patronus is a salamander, you know that. I think everyone would much prefer your puppy over mine."

She accompanied the last part with a chuckle and reached out to stroke his cheek.

He smiled softly at her, "But fire-dwelling salamander patronuses are so rare and beautiful."

She waved off his comment.

"I'm curious though, what's changed? You'd always struggled to keep your Patronus alight, but now it's brighter than half those nitwits we went to school with."

"I mean I haven't cast it since it happened but I found a new memory to focus on a few years ago."

"It must be a really beautiful one for your Patronus to manifest like that. Can I ask what you think of?"

His cheeks flushed slightly and his gaze softened as he looked at her. He always looked at her with such love and had ever since before they started dating in fifth year. It never failed to make her heart flutter.

"Our wedding night."

Her heart melted, "Which part?"

"Well, the whole thing I suppose. How beautiful you looked in that wedding gown and how I definitely didn't cry when I heard you say 'I do'. But also afterwards."

Her cheeks flushed. A certain someone had been conceived that night.

They both looked down at Haneul who was looking up at her parents with big doe eyes and her mouth hanging open.

Yunho looked up at Y/N again with a warm grin, "She is one of the best things to happen to us and I'm glad that we decided to have her."

She felt herself tear up, "Have I ever told you how much I love you, you big dummy?"

He gave her a cheeky grin and kissed her, "I don't know, maybe you should tell me again."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a quick peck, "Maybe later when your parents leave and a certain someone is asleep I'll show you."

"Oh?"

She ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Sweetheart, you've never told me what you think of when you cast your Patronus."

"Oh," It was her turn to blush, "Remember our first date to Hogsmeade?"

He grinned at the memories, "Yeah, we wreaked havoc in Zonko's before heading to The Three Broomsticks. How could I forget?"

"Well, I think of that. It was the first time you said 'I love you.'"

His grin widened as the memories came flooding back, "Yes! I remember. It was winter and your nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. You had taken a sip of your warm butterbeer and some of the foam stayed behind on your upper lip. You looked so adorable I couldn't stop the words from falling from my mouth."

She still got butterflies so many years later, "Our first kiss also took place that day. "

"Yup. I had to help you clean that foam up somehow.", He chuckled.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Their nostalgia was cut short when Haneul decided she wasn't getting enough attention anymore and started crying again.

"Oh no, don't cry, princess." Yunho moved her to let her head rest on his shoulder and rocked her in his arms. She was getting bigger every day but she still looked so small in Yunho's arms.

"Do you want mummy to show you pretty lights like daddy did?"

Haneul probably had no clue what he meant but the soft voice of her dad calmed her a little and she looked up at him through her wet lashes.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Drama queen."

But she took her wand out from her back pocket nevertheless.

"Expecto Patronum!" She said softly but firmly. Contrary to popular belief, you don't have to yell the spell out like your life depends on it, usually just being firm and having a strong intent works. Unless you're planning on visiting Azkaban anytime soon- yelling might be necessary there. Dementors don't discriminate.

No sooner had she spoken the words, a salamander appeared in the air in a brilliant blue glow.

It swam through the air and twirled as it did so, mock flames rising from it's skin. It was a pretty delightful sight. Haneul and Yunho thought so too, watching it with identical smiles and bright eyes. They looked so alike.

Haneul giggled and pulled Yunho's wand from his hoodie pocket. He took it from her just before she could stick it in her mouth. There were already a few teeth marks on the almond wood handle and his friends and teammates in his Quidditch team teased him every time they saw it.

He moved to hold her on his hip with one arm and held out his wand and conjured up his Patronus with firm words and a swish of his wand.

Haneul clapped her hands together in pure joy as Yunho's Patronus bounced through the air, silently barking as it chased Y/Ns.

Y/N couldn't help the laugh that escaped her as she watched her salamander scramble to get away from the big paws of the golden retriever.

Eventually, she started giggling so much that she lost focus and her Patronus faded away.

He stopped paying attention to his Patronus too, too busy lovingly gazing at his wife.

He wrapped his free arm around his wife, pulling her against his chest. He held both his girls in his arms and pressed kisses to each of their foreheads.

His little family would never lack in happy memories and he would make sure of it.

[winters-mistress]

Foster Dad Geralt

"Hey." Geralt says, slowly coming into the dimly lit room once the girl inside gives him permission.

The blonde looks up at him, and Geralt smiles, holding out the red mug in his hands.

"I thought you might like something to drink, it's hot chocolate." He says, leaning it down as she reaches for it. "I thought it easier to put it in a mug with a straw because of your sling, didn't want it to tip over. Not because of anything temporary. Would you like me to take it off?" He asks, once she's pulled the mug to her chest, holding the hot cylinder close.

"No, it's good. Thank you." She whispers the last bit, looking down at the blankets around her legs.

"Would it be okay if I sat down next to you?" He asks. Ciri nods slowly. "Thank you." He settles into the chair next to the bed. "When you'd like to go to sleep, if you want to turn the lights off, it's these three switches by here." He points to a trio of switches laying on Ciri's large, white nightstand. "Obviously, the switch to turn off the lamp is just to touch it and it'll turn off. But if you'd like to keep it on, or all the lights, that's perfectly okay, too." He nods to the remote controls. "The long one controls the TV, its pretty self explanatory. That one is the amazon stick, we've got Disney, Amazon, Netflix and prime. The blu ray player is the thick, little one. Our dvds are in that white wicker basket over there." He points to across the room, where one of the IKEA units stand, and sure enough, in the middle, there's just such a basket. "In here," he opens the first drawer of her bedside table, "there's snacks, like crisps and chocolate and pop tarts and such. One underneath it has water and soda and juice. And the fourth has sanitary products if you need them. All stocked up with every kind you could need in every size."

"T-thank you. I haven't had this much consideration before." the girl whispers, looking down at her bruised hands as they clutch the mug of chocolate drink.

"I don't know what you've been through, but I can tell you that you're safe here. You're more than welcome to everything in the room, and in the house. I can't promise to be perfect, but I'll look after you the best I can." Geralt says earnestly, leaning forward. "Is there anything you'd like for breakfast tomorrow? I'm not such a bad cook."

Ciri smiles, tears filling her eyes. "Pancakes. Grandma would always make pancakes on Sunday mornings."

"Then pancakes it is. If you'd like, we can go down to the valley tomorrow, get you things to make you more comfortable here."

"Maybe in a few days, I'm-I'm very tired. And you've done more than enough to make me comfortable, it's more than I ever could have asked for." Ciri sniffles, unable to wipe her cheeks with the sling on her left arm and the mug in her right hand.

Geralt inhales sharply, barely remembering to keep it quiet for the skittish girl in his care. "Is it okay if I come closer?"

"Yeah." she whispers.

Geralt carefully perches on the bed. It may be a Queen sized bed, but he's a big guy and she's a small, injured girl.

Giving her all the time to say no or push away, Geralt runs his fingers through her hair.

"Take some deep breaths," he rumbles. Ciri feels it more than she hears it. "In and out."

Ciri sniffles, taking a sip of her drink.

"Whenever you're ready, we can go to the valley, get you some more clothes and pyjamas and stuff like that. Stuff you'd like?"

"Thank you, Geralt." she whispers, looking up at him. "You're very generous."

"Nonsence, I can't promise to be perfect, but a few bits of clothes and some trinkets are hardly anything big."

"No, I mean all this." she looks around. "Kid bursts into your life through a police phone call, spends three weeks in hospital and turns up at your door in the middle of the night with nothing but a sling. And seeing all this, it's all very nice."

"Would-would you like a hug?" He offers awkwardly. "My father always said they made everything better, although my brother kicked him in the shins."

Ciri wetly chuckles. "Yes, please."

She sighs deeply, closing her eyes as strong, thick arms wrap around her, enclosing her in heat and safety.

She hugs him back as much as she can, with being one limbed at the moment, and notices he doesn't pull back until he does.

"Uh, obviously you've seen the bathroom, where the towels and hampers are kept, as well as the wardrobe and drawers. You remember where the kitchen is? You're welcome to raid the refrigerator anytime you like."

"Thank you, I do remember. Down the hall, staircase to the right, two flights, big room on the left." she recites. The girl stretches underneath the thick blankets she'd managed to pull across her lap.

"Well done. My room is the one on the right at the bottom of the other side of the hallway, if you need anything. I'll be popping in throughout the night to give you your pills, just so you can get straight to sleep and not have to worry about measuring and stuff, you should rest for now." He says, pushing hair from her face. "You'll let me know what you need? Anything to eat or drink, stuff like that?"

"I will, you're very good to me." she leans into him.

"While I may not have expected to be named as guardian, I am glad you're here. I want to take care of you as best I can, although I don't know the first thing about teenage girls or what they like. Be patient with me, yeah? Well take everything one step at a time."

"Just want my arm to get better, that's the first thing I want." she shuffles closer.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, I'm not gonna do what the social worker did and pressure you into it. We'll take it at your pace, just want you safe from that guy."

"Don't want to think about him anymore. At least not for a few days. With everything, him taking me, the crash, the weeks running and the next in the hospital, I just want to rest for now."

"Then that's what we're gonna do. Your pace, yeah?"

Ciri nods, finishing the hot chocolate as Geralt kisses her head, before gingerly standing up.

"I'll leave you to sleep, hmm? Be back in a few hours for your medicine."

"Okay, good night Geralt."

"Goodnight, Ciri."

[howlingday]

Jaune’s day has been one of questions. First he woke up feeling like someone lit a bonfire in his skull along with the vague recollection of a party the night before. Must’ve been a big one for the mess outside. Then in an odd bout of awareness, he started taking note of how different everyone was acting and how they were treating him, including the students from the other academies. Some guys are giving him death glares while others are thanking/congratulating him. Some girls are stalking him, a few catcalled him, he even recognized the looks on some as the look Saph gives Terrra, among many other things. Glynda seems shy! His friends aren’t much better either. Weiss is calling him by his first name and weirdly friendly, Blake is doing the whole ‘I’m going to pretend I’m aloof but I really want your attention’ clingy cat bit, Nora looks wore out, Ren looks smug, Yang is blushing, Pyr is near glowing, and Ruby is stuck in la la land. Ozpin is the only one who seems unfazed. Is anyone going to give him any answers? Probably not.

Ozpin: Mr. Arc, how might I help you?

Jaune: Hello, Professor Ozpin. Um, I was just wondering what happened last night?

Ozpin: I see. Please, take a seat. What do you mean by "what happened last night", Mr. Arc?

Jaune: Well, I woke up this morning in the arms of the statues, and my head felt like someone poured fuel onto it and just tossed fire dust on top.

Ozpin: I take it you've already seen the nurse?

Jaune: Yes, sir, but my morning only got weirder from there. I was in the waiting room at the nurse's office when some guys I never met threatened to break my arms!

Ozpin: Oh my. And what did you say to defend yourself?

Jaune: I didn't need to say anything! Some girls I never met came by and threatened them, and they took off. Then the girls looked at me, and, well, I didn't feel any safer.

Ozpin: How so?

Jaune: Well, it was kind of like... Did you ever have a cat, sir?

Ozpin: A long time ago, yes.

Jaune: Well, it was like pointing a laser pointer on the ground. Like something clicked inside them, and now they're hungry for something!

Ozpin: The thrill of the hunt perhaps? And what next? Did they sink their claws into you?

Jaune: Very funny, sir, but no. They got scared away by someone else.

Ozpin: Oh, and who might that be?

Jaune: Well-

CREAK!

Glynda: I'm sorry I'm late, Ozpin. I had a difficult night last- J-J-Jaune?!

Jaune: Hello, Professor Goodwitch!

Ozpin: Ah, Glynda! Perfect timing! Perhaps you can help Mr. Arc? It seems he's having trouble remembering the details of the previous night.

Jaune: Do you know what happened?

Glynda: What... happened? (Blushing red, Looking away) Oh, where to start? Perhaps... No, it's too soon! I-I apologize, but I must attend to my class!

Ozpin: It's Sunday, Glynda.

Glynda: (Laughs hysterically) Yes! Papers to grade! Assignments to, uh, assign! (Leaves quickly)

BAM!

Jaune: Aw, I wanted to thank her for helping at the waiting room.

Ozpin: Ah, so she was your savior?

Jaune: Yeah, but then she got red in the face and ran off. I guess it wasn't serious enough for the nurse to look at.

Ozpin: Was this previous encounter like the one just now?

Jaune: Yeah, it was actually!

Ozpin: Interesting... Speaking of waiting rooms, I take it you were able to see the nurse.

Jaune: Yeah, I did. Apparently, it was a hangover. She said she wasn't surprised after what happened last night.

Ozpin: Ah, that explains the initial problem of your headache.

Jaune: Yeah, but then it leads to more questions! What happened for me to wake up hungover on the statue?!

Ozpin: The plot thickens yet, Mr. Arc. Perhaps if you explained what happened after you left the nurse's office? Did you come straight to my office?

Jaune: No, not yet. I had to head back to shower, so I went back to my dorm. On my way, I ran into Team RWBY.

Ozpin: Yes, and how is Team RWBY?

Jaune: Weird. Really weird.

Ozpin: More so than usual?

Jaune: Yeah. Definitely more.

Jaune: Hey, girls!

Weiss: Oh! Good morning, Jaune!

Jaune: Uh, good morning?

Ozpin: Hardly cause for alarm, Mr. Arc. Ms. Schnee was greeting you.

Jaune: Yeah, with my first name!

Jaune: What, uh, are you guys up to today?

Weiss: We're going to Vale later.

Blake: If you want to come, you can. I mean, n-not like I care.

Jaune: Uh, I'm gonna be here all day.

Blake: AHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, really?! Have fun!

Jaune: ...Thanks, I will.

Ozpin: Ah, this is starting to make sense, little by little.

Jaune: Really? Because I am so lost!

Ruby: Eheeheeheehee...

Jaune: You okay, Ruby?

Ruby: Heeheehee! Mmhm!

Jaune: Is she okay? Yang?

Yang: (Ducks behind Weiss)

Ozpin: Rather uncharacteristic of Ms. Xiao Long.

Jaune: Oh, good, so it's not just me. Like, what was wrong with Ruby?

Ozpin: Perhaps the answer lies just a little further?

Jaune: I sure hope so.

Weiss: They're fine, Jaune. We need to hurry before the bullhead leaves. Good-bye, Jaune, and thanks again for last night!

Jaune: Last night?

Ozpin: Last night seems to be the catalyst of these events.

Jaune: If only I knew what what happened. Oh! What about the cameras?!

Ozpin: Cameras?

Jaune: The security footage of last night!

Ozpin: That seems like an excellent point to start. I'll just turn on my computer.

Jaune: You leave your computer off?

Ozpin: It saves on energy bills. There. While it's warming up, continue with your tale. I believe you entered your dorm room?

Jaune: Yeah, and I couldn't believe what I saw when I got back.

Jaune: Hey, guys, I'm back.

Nora: Mmmmmmm...

Jaune: She was just laying there. Not doing anything.

Ozpin: And that's terrible?

Jaune: At ten in the morning? Yeah, it is. Nora's usually up and in everyone's face before seven, but here she was, unconscious on her bed, groaning and mumbling instead of talking.

Ozpin: I suppose it is uncommon for her.

Jaune: I've never seen her like that. Or Ren like he was.

Jaune: Everything okay, Nora?

Nora: Ugh... Mm... Pluh...

Jaune: Uh, okay?

Ren: She's just tired.

Jaune: Oh, morning, Ren! Tired, though?

Ren: It happens. Not often, but it's never unwelcome.

Jaune: I guess. It's weird, though.

Ren: I suppose... if you don't have the stomach for it.

Jaune: Huh?

Ren: But I suppose you don't have the stomach for much, do you, Jaune?

Jaune: What are you-?

Ren: But I digress. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must shower before Nora awakes. (Steps into the bathroom)

Jaune: ...What just happened?

Jaune: He just got all smug, like he was king of the world, and I was some poor country he just conquered to get there!

Ozpin: That is a bit unusual. One would almost say it was out of character for him.

Jaune: You're telling me.

Ozpin: How did your team react when you told them?

Jaune: Well, Nora was still on the bed, half-conscious, and Ren just went into the bathroom. As for Pyrrha, well...

Jaune: Pyrrha? (Nudges her) Pyrrha? It's time to wake.

Pyrrha: (Mumbles, Stirs)

Jaune: Good morning, sleepy-

Jaune: And that's when she punched me.

Ozpin: I take it she apologized?

Jaune: Yeah, or at least I think she did. I don't know what happened, but her face got all red and she started babbling something I couldn't understand.

Ozpin: What did you do?

Jaune: I apologized, and told her that if she needed her space, I would give it to her.

Ozpin: And she calmed down after that?

Jaune: No. If anything, I somehow made it worse. She passed out, so I brought her down to the nurse's office. When I came back up, I told Ren and took my shower.

Ozpin: I see. Well, according to my messages, she was released just a few minutes ago.

Jaune: Phew, that's a relief.

Ozpin: ...

Jaune: ...Wait a minute.

Ozpin: I could wait more.

Jaune: You got a message from the nurse's office! That means your computer was on!

Ozpin: It always was.

Jaune: Why didn't you tell me?!

Ozpin: Two reasons. The first was because I wanted to know your side of the story.

Jaune: Okay, and the second?

Ozpin: The second is this.

CRACK!

Jaune: Ow!

Ozpin: Was for your participation in the party last night, of which my school's destruction is primarily your fault.

Jaune: What?!

Ozpin: See for yourself.

Video 1: The boys of Beacon gathered around a large table, various alcoholic drinks in front of them. Jaune looks nervous, but gains more confidence as the drinks diminished. Eventually, the final four were Jaune, Cardin, Ren, and Fox. Fox then tapped, followed by a puking Cardin, leaving it to the JNPR boys. With a final swig, Jaune set his glass down and stood up. He wandered off-screen, where he never returned. (TIME 8:15-8:27PM)

Video 2: A DJ blasts music in the ballroom as students dance with one another. Jaune stumbles into view until he reaches the DJ. He belches away, then loudly whispers something. Jaune then makes his way to the dance floor, patting his face to ready himself. The song, (Later revealed as "Boiling" by Shelly, based on the DJ track recording) begins to play, signaling Jaune to start dancing... provocatively. He then slips out of his shirt, his body glistening with sweat as if the song was boiling the student. Other students joined in, most noticeably females in their undergarments. One Yang Xiao Long pushed them away, pressing herself into him. He responded by pressing himself into her. As the song ended, Jaune shoved himself into a kiss. The Blonde Brawler became limp and fell to her knees once released. He walked away, leaving her to reach out to him as he tossed his shirt over his shoulder. (TIME 8:30-8:35PM)

Video 3: In the library, Weiss and Blake are sitting at a table, quietly reading. Jaune stumbles in, where he beelines for the water fountain, chugging as much as he can. He then collapses into a seat between the two. The two look at him, then Weiss points her finger at him, clearly shouting something. Jaune nods, then says something. Weiss jabs at him again, but Jaune grabs her arm and pulls her in for a hug. She struggles, but then relaxes into it as Jaune strokes her hair. He looks over to Blake, offering to make this a group hug. She refuses, to which he shrugs. He then walks away, waving goodbye to them. Weiss excitedly waves back, while Blake shyly waves with a blush. (TIME 8:49-9:08PM)

Video 4: In the courtyard, Ruby and Nora are throwing toilet paper around, laughing as they do so. Jaune shows up, wearing his shirt again, asking to join. They pass him a few rolls, with which he covers everything from benches to trees to lampposts, and even over the roof at one point. He covers a camera, mostly obscuring the vision. From one side, however, comes a livid Professor Goodwitch. She, too, then becomes obscured. (TIME 9:30-9:56PM)

Video 5: In a hallway, everything is quiet. No students approach from either direction. No toilet paper thrown. Nothing moved, until a door swung open. Leaning against the doorway was a panting Jaune Arc, shirtless with his pants around his ankles. His body then lifted off the ground a few centimeters, before flying backwards into the closet. The door came shut soon after. (TIME 10:15-11:45)

Video 6: Outside the teacher's lounge, there were also no students. However, this changed when Jaune walked into view, carrying a surprisingly affectionate Professor Goodwitch in his arms. She opened the door, allowing them to enter. Much later, Jaune would exit alone, leaving Glynda inside. (TIME 11:59PM-12:30AM)

Video 7: Jaune stumbles out to the statue, looking up at the heroes of Beacon. He walks around to the front, where he is not seen again for the rest of the evening. Later, Pyrrha runs from the front, her face red from who knows what. (TIME 12:36-12:45AM)

Jaune: Wow...

Ozpin: Indeed. Now, I ask you; what do you intend to do to clean up your mess?

Jaune: Well, I think I'll start with the benches, then work my way up.

Ozpin: The emotional messes, Mr. Arc. My students, and one of my faculty members, are in disarray after your actions last night.

Jaune: Oh, right. Well, I'll just have to talk to them.

Ozpin: Anyone in particular?

Jaune: I think... I'll start with Miss Goodwitch. She's the most mature of the hearts I broke, so I'm hoping we can talk this out like adults.

Glynda: I'd like that. (Jaune whirls around) And please, call me Glynda.

[eddiesmile]

Why Him? - E.M

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N considers herself to be Max Mayfield's elder sister, especially after the loss of Billy Hargrove. Y/N takes it upon herself to stay home with Max whenever Susan is busy, and comes across Eddie Munson.

He moved his calloused hand to cup my cheek, the smoke from his cigarette wafting between us. It made his eyes shine. "You are my reason. My reason to get up in the morning, my reason to change, my reason for everything. I love you Y/N,". His eyes watered, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of my cheek. We stayed still, staring into each others eyes until his cigarette burnt out.

"It's time for me to go," He murmured, his voice small. He lent forward, pressing his pink lips against my forehead, letting his tears fall freely. "I'm sorry,". And he was gone.

I opened my eyes, meeting the harsh sunlight streaming through my curtains. The calendar he had given to me, stared back, his smile immortalised on the paper. It had taken me months to convince him to try something new, and when he gave in, he admitted that he felt more confident to change for the better. Until he died.

I mumbled a good morning to him, kicking away the blankets, sitting up. His leather jacket was slung over the end of my bed, where it always sat. The keys to his car were on my desk, neatly placed against his packet of cigarettes.

I sat up, staring at all of his belongings for a considerable amount of time before getting up properly, and dragging myself down to the kitchen. Things had all gone to shit months ago, Monsters were real, one had possessed Billy and in the end, killed him.

I checked the notepad in the kitchen as I placed a cigarette in my mouth, knowing that Billy would be throwing a fit wherever he was.

"Promise me Y/N, you will never touch one of these," Billy said, waving a cigarette in my face.

"I promise Billy,"

Movie day with Max, the notepad read. Movie days had become our way to spend time with each other, without feeling the usual pressure from society. And we both thoroughly enjoyed it, whether holed up in the tiny trailer, or my dingy cabin.

I dialled the trailer number, knowing I'd probably be waking up Max.

"What?" Max hissed into the phone.

"It's movie day, do you want to hire some movies, or we can borrow some from Dustin,"

"Hire some, I'll get dressed now,"

I chuckled into the phone, putting it down as the line went dead. I lit the cigarette, walking back to my room to grab his car keys. I didn't have the heart to call his stuff mine, because it wasn't really mine, it was still his, regardless of his mortality.

The drive to the trailer park was boring. There is nothing to look at in Hawkins, unless you count the middle aged men mowing their lawns on a Sunday morning, but I didn't. Billy's car rumbled as I pulled into the trailer park, making the birds loitering, scatter. Max was already waiting out the front, speaking to a guy that had wild hair.

She stepped up the window, pointing her hand behind her. "Is it okay if we drop Eddie off in town?"

I nodded, eyeing him up. He cautiously stepped towards the car, climbing in behind Max. It was a tight squeeze with us all in the front seat, but we made it manage.

"You've been smoking again," Max commented, poking my side.

"No such thing,"

"Eddie, does Y/N smell like cigarettes?"

I heard Eddie clear his throat, and the clinking of what I could assume to be him tapping his rings together.

"Yes, but I was smoking earlier too so it could be me," He answered, earning a huff from Max.

The rest of the drive continued in silence, Max and Eddie climbing out of the car the second we came to a stop. I followed behind them, tugging on Eddie's sleeve as he turned to walk into the local grocery store. I waved Max on, watching as she greeted Robin.

"Thank you for covering for me," I said, properly looking at Eddie.

He gave me a tight-lipped smile, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Not a problem Y/N,"

I reached into Billy's jacket, pulling out the deck of cigarettes, offering one of the last two to Eddie. He looked down, and carefully plucked both out, passing one to me. I lit his cigarette, and mine, relishing in the feeling it gave me as I inhaled.

"Why Billy?" Eddie asked, leaning against the Camaro.

"He was the first person to make me feel good about being me," I answered, pausing to tap away the ash on the cigarette. "That's why I followed them all the way from California. I couldn't live without the person who encouraged me, even as bad as he was, but he was working on that. And now we're here,"

"I'm still stuck in Hawkins High, but if you ever need a friend you know where I am," Eddie responded, holding out his hand.

With the cigarette hanging between his lips, jeans and overall stature he reminded me of Billy. I shook it gently, watching as he walked into the store.

Billy would most definitely be rolling in his grave if he knew I was interacting with Eddie Munson.

EDDIE MUNSON TAGLIST: (OPEN)

@babyhoneync @eddies-bat-tattoos

@strangerthanfanfiction713 @voldieshorts

@themuppyshow @ghoulsgraveyard

@bookfrog242

[serasvictoria]

I've Got Dreams To Remember

Pairing: Incubus Hvitserk/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 8244 (yeah, I don't know what happened either)

Summary: A certain young man keeps showing up in your very x-rated dreams.

Notes: I fully realise that the contents of this might not be for everyone, so I’ll just say that according to some stories Incubi are capable of shapeshifting. A certain aspect of this has been inspired by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie's absolutely brilliant fic, Take Me, so if you've read that you'll know what I'm talking about. And if you haven’t read it, what the hell are you doing? READ IT.

There is another moodboard all the way at the end of this to provide a visual for something that I describe in this so have a look at it at the end.

Tagging: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @vikingstrash @quantumlocked310

He only ever came to you in your dreams.

The dreams were interesting to say the least and he always played a very big part in them. You often wondered what deep and dark recesses of your brain had conjured him up, because you would definitely remember if you had encountered someone like him in real life.

It first started about a month ago. You’d gotten out of a particularly nasty relationship a few months before. You were still trying to navigate your way through this new life that you now had and while your friends were busy with trying to get you back onto the dating scene, you persisted in that regard. You weren’t looking for a new man in your life, but you still had needs. Sure, you had your toys, but they were a somewhat poor substitute when what you really wanted was for someone to grab your ass, lift you up and fuck you up against a wall.

Maybe that was where he had come from. Because that was exactly the scenario that you got the first time that he showed up.

It was a fairly generic one where dreams were concerned. You were in a bar with some people, a wide assortment of people that you knew in real life, when you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You looked up and stared straight into the half shaded face of a young man whose eyes you couldn’t actually make out, but you saw the smile that graced his lips and boy was it hungry. You only glanced away for a second and when you looked back again, he was already gone. You’d resigned yourself to missing your chance, when a hand suddenly grasped your wrist, dragged you outside to a nearby alleyway and gave you exactly what you’d been thinking of during your waking hours.

When you woke up, you had never found yourself feeling so satisfied before. You threw the blankets over your head, rolled over and tried to fall asleep again, but sleep didn’t take you for a second time that morning sadly enough. Later that day, after getting out of the shower and glancing in the mirror before combing your hair, you stared at your reflection in confusion or to be more precise at your bare skin. In your dream, your mystery lover had bitten your shoulder and there, right there on your shoulder, were teeth marks. But that was impossible, right? Maybe the dream had been that intense that it had somehow tricked your body into believing that it had been real? Did things like that even happen?

You didn’t dream of him the next night. Nor the following five nights. Not that you were keeping track or anything. He eventually put in another appearance though. The setting for that dream wasn’t particularly inventive either and you were almost embarrassed that your mind was even coming up with stuff that gave you the impression that they should be storylines in bad porn movies. It was a department store this time and you were looking at underwear. Your fingers continuously ran over the lace trims of various bras and touched the silky panties that came with them.

Again, you felt eyes on you and it was the same young man as from your previous dream. Apparently, dream you was in a frisky mood so you held up various bras in front of your chest, most of which he disapproved of, until you came across a bright red lace number that he seemed to like. When he finally found you in the fitting room shortly after, you were wearing the set that he had wanted to see you in before tearing it off your body and fucking you up against the full length mirror.

That was the first time that you’d gotten a good look at his face. Frankly, you were impressed with what your mind had come up with. He had long dirty blonde hair that he wore in a ponytail and that you longed to see loose. His eyes were green one time and when you looked again they seemed brown. That was one of the parts about him that mystified you. That and the part where you constantly wanted to kiss the tip of his nose and his ears. That was definitely an odd experience to say the least.

He was tall and lithe of build, but with surprising strength in his arms. The way that he would hold you was intense, like he never wanted to let you go. When his shirt came off, you found yourself staring at the intricate tattoo that covered most of his left bicep and part of his chest. It was some kind of Viking design and it looked old, but it was probably meant to look like that. You found yourself tracing it with your finger a number of times, something that seemed to amuse him.

Whenever you woke up, you were annoyed that you had been torn out of this perfect little dream world. The dream world where you were fucked six ways from Sunday. You were so thirsty for this young man that you had created that he was in your nighttime fantasies pretty much every single night now. In your dreams he left you so satisfied that you had no idea why you ever wanted to leave. If only you could stay asleep and feel this bliss forever. What would make them even more amazing was if the fantasies were better. You always swore that you were one dream away from having him come round to your house so he could have a closer look at your plumbing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rolling over on your side, you looked at the man next to you in the bed. Despite the fact that you had been dreaming about him almost every single night for the past two weeks, you had never actually heard him talk. You’d heard him moan and groan several times, but to hear his lips form actual sentences was a new thing.

“Nothing,” you replied with a smile.

“I can read your thoughts, you know.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I never told you?” He grinned at you and ran his fingers up and down your bare arm. “Maybe I could have told you if you’d wanted to talk, but you only want me for my body.”

“What? I don’t… I never…” You were flustered and looking for words after being so brutally called out. “It was never like…”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s what I do.” Since he saw the obvious confusion on your face, he continued. “I’ve been feeding off you this entire time.”

“Feeding off me? But I never feed you anything.”

“Your orgasms.” A frown creased your brow and he started laughing again before leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. “It’s what I need to sustain myself. I can eat other food as well, but it never quite fills me up the way orgasms do.”

“So the reason that you made me come multiple times is…”

“Because it fills me. Not my belly, mind you, but on a deeper level.” He cupped your chin and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I suppose a thank you is in order.” His hand slipped down, gently gripping your neck, applying just the slightest bit of pressure, before moving down to it’s destination and plucking at your nipple almost idly. He was gearing you up for another round and you found that you couldn’t actually remember how many times he had made you come already. “Can I thank you with this body that you can’t get enough of?”

“Wait.”

“So now you want to talk?” He continued his ministrations on your chest as if you hadn’t been talking at all. You caught the playful smirk on his lips before he leaned in and started sucking marks on your neck. “What do you want to know?”

“You say you feed off me, but doesn't that mean that you want to eat me?”

“And why would I want to do that? I like to use my mouth for other things,” he said with a low chuckle. You hissed through your teeth when he sank his teeth into your skin suddenly and then licked the spot where he had bitten you. “Would be a waste to eat you anyway.”

“So the reason that you’re able to…”

He pulled away so he could look you in the eye. He grinned as he pushed his hand against your shoulder and he got on top of you as soon as you were laying on your back. “Are you getting shy on me now? After everything that we’ve done?” He nudged your legs apart and you could feel his erection pressing into your thigh. “But yes, that’s why my erections last so long. The aim of the game is not to come myself, but to make sure that you do.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I beat myself off when you wake up. It’s not like I can’t climax myself, but I can make sure that I stay hard for as long as I need to.” You could feel his tip pressing against your entrance, ready to slide in at any second. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in a dream.”

“Anything?”

“Sure. Wanna see?”

You didn’t know what he had planned, but you nodded anyway. His eyes lit up, his irises practically glowing green right now, and he started grinning, eager to show you what else he could do. He snapped his fingers and all of a sudden you were sitting on a red velvet sofa in what appeared to be some kind of high end bar. Your legs were wide open with him on his knees in front of you, his lips already on the inside of your knee and slowly working his way up.

“So you can change locations?”

“Honey, I can change everything.” You felt his teeth on the inside of your thigh, nipping at your skin playfully, mere inches away from the top of your legs. “Is the setting not to your liking?”

“How did you even come up with this place?”

“Experience?” He briefly looked up at you and shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Not telling.” He stuck his tongue out at you and then dipped his head down to lick a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “I can never get enough of how you taste.” He moaned against your core. He spent most of his time with his face between your legs in your dreams. With what he’d revealed earlier, about how he fed on your orgasms, maybe that was the place where he could taste it the best? “Not really.” You moaned loudly when he spoke, because his voice was adding vibrations to what he was doing. You’d entirely forgotten that he had mentioned that he was able to hear your thoughts. “You just taste real good.”

A single finger slid inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. When he adds another, you start whimpering and you know that you’re going to come soon. If you could, you’d have him in this position all the time. There had never been anyone in your life who had been this good at eating you out and who was so clearly enjoying himself as well. Your last boyfriend had been a disaster on that front, more often than not he would skip foreplay entirely, but he’d still expect you to suck his dick whenever he felt like it. Figures that you’d only be able to find an enthusiastic lover in your dreams.

Guys like that simply didn’t exist in real life.

You reach down to thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture makes him suck at your clit harder and thrust his fingers in deeper than before. He was practically devouring you at this point, lapping up your juices and making sounds that told you that he hadn’t been lying when he told you that he liked how you tasted. It was almost as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. You keened out a noise as another orgasm positively engulfed you. You’d push him away and close your thighs if you could, but he had wrapped his arms around your thighs and was using all his strength to keep them wide open. Your muscles were tight as a bowstring, your back arched and pushed you up into a position that would start to hurt if you stayed in it for too long. He was relentless though, ignoring your discomfort and continuing his assault until he had managed to pull yet another climax out of your shuddering body.

When he finally released you, you collapsed onto the sofa, your entire body sticky with sweat. You blinked a few times to stop yourself from seeing stars and when you heard him chuckle, you swatted your hand in his general direction without actually hitting him. It took you a couple of minutes, but you eventually managed to sit upright again when your lungs stopped burning. He was still on his knees in front of you with an incredibly smug impression plastered all over his face. You nudged your foot against his shoulder and he fell backwards dramatically. Your face twisted when you felt the velvet against your sweaty body. It had felt pleasant on your bare skin before, but not anymore.

“I can do something about that,” he said cheerily and snapped his fingers again. When he saw the look on your face when you noticed where you were, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “No good?”

“This is terrible,” you replied with a wide grin. “I mean. Honestly.”

The flashing light underneath you made you laugh. He’d pulled this one from your bad sex fantasies again. A piece of paper slid into the tray on the side. He picked it up, looked at it with a frown before turning the piece of paper over so you could see it.

“I think there’s something wrong with this printer.” He shook his head and pressed a few buttons underneath your leg. “It really needs fixing.”

“Think you can fix it?”

“I can try.” He pushed his hands underneath your ass just as the light flashed again and a few seconds later he showed you the black and white printout of your behind with his fingers shoved in between you and the glass that you were sitting on. “That’s beautiful. Think I might have to frame that.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“I think that it’s funny.” He pressed his lips on yours hungrily and you could still taste yourself on his tongue. “I got this from your mind, remember? I really think we might have to work on the state of your fantasies though. They really could be a lot more inventive.”

“Maybe I’m just not very original.”

“You’re just not giving yourself enough credit, sweetheart.”

“Maybe.” You nipped at his lower lip and then pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose which was probably a little too gentle considering all the other stuff that you’d gotten up that night, but you hardly cared anymore. “You can probably come up with something a lot better.”

“I can try, but you’re probably going to be disappointed.”

One snap of his fingers and suddenly you were in the dark. You could also tell that you were alone. The other two times, you could always feel him around you, but not this time. You hugged your arms around your torso, feeling cold for no reason at all. All of a sudden a couple of lights switched on, bathing the room in red light, and you realised that you were standing on a stage. When you glanced at the side, you could see a pole right next to you. You instinctively reached out for it, feeling the cool metal against your palm and you held it as you walked in a circle around it. There were full length mirrors all around you and you briefly looked at your reflection.

The outfit that you wore left little to the imagination which was probably the point when you took the location into account. You were wearing a red triangle bikini top and a black pair of shorts that half your ass was hanging out of. The shoes, the infamous stripper heels naturally, had plastic, see-through straps and the platform heels had a iridescent sparkle to it.

When you had done a turn, your eyes scanned the place and you could see him sitting on a chair right next to the stage, looking up at you expectantly. He obviously wanted a show so why not give him one? Holding onto the pole, you slid down until you were on your knees and then you started skimming your hands up and down your chest. He was completely enraptured and kept reaching down to readjust himself in his trousers. Given how he usually remained rockhard throughout these dreams, the skinny jeans that he was wearing right now were probably incredibly uncomfortable.

You crawled over to where he was sitting. When you had reached the edge, you reached out to grab him by his shirt and pulled him up out of his seat. His eyes widened for a second or two before he composed himself again. He couldn’t resist leaning in when your face came closer to his, but you merely ghosted your lips over his before pushing him back into his chair.

“No touching the stripper,” you chided and then wagged a finger at him. “Or I’ll ask security to kick you out.”

“But you’re allowed to touch me?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d have me kicked out?”

“No way.” He leaned back in his chair, arm hanging over the back and he started sipping at a cocktail that suddenly materialised in his hand. “Keep going.”

The only problem there was that you had no clue what strippers even did. Sure you’d seen a video, but those women were a lot more athletic than you were. You’d also seen Showgirls once, but that movie probably wasn’t the best example about what to do. The only thing that you had learned from that movie was how not to have sex in a pool and that licking a stripper pole wasn’t particularly sexy, just incredibly unhygienic. You swung your legs over the edge of the stage and put your feet on the arm rests of his chair, practically daring him to touch you. Having caught your intent, he didn’t move and then he had the audacity to feign indifference.

Sliding off the stage, you climbed onto his lap instead and started gyrating your hips against his. You reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulled his head back and dragged your lips down the column of his throat. When he grabbed your ass, you slapped his cheek with your free hand.

“No touching,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m not telling you again.”

“Damn, baby.” He sounded impressed by how well you were taking control of this new situation. “That is such a fucking turn-on.” You pulled on his hair harder and since your mouth was still close to his ear, you took his earlobe between your teeth and gave it a gentle tug. “Holy shit. You’re a fucking natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

You leaned back so you could look him in the eye. His eyes sparkled with obvious excitement and a deeper, more animalistic need. Like he could grab you at any moment, throw you onto the stage and fuck you right there if you pushed him too far. Very tempting. Reaching to the back of your neck, you pulled at the bow that held the strings of the halterneck together and when it was loosened, they fell down your shoulders. You pushed the cups down until they hung loosely around your chest. The only thing that was keeping the top on was the string that tied together around your back.

His eyes flitted down to your chest and then back up to your face again. You wanted him to touch you, but after telling him off a few times, you weren’t sure if he was going to. So you placed your hand on the back of his head and pressed him against your chest instead. You felt him smile against your skin and then his lips started moving, shifting in the direction of your nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine and you looked up suddenly. You had the odd feeling that there was another set of eyes on you, but that was impossible since the two of you were the only people here. Looking up at the bar, you saw a young man who was leaning against the bar and watching the two of you intently. He was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit, his long hair loose and hanging down over his shoulders. Even in this odd red light, you could tell that his skin was too pale, so white that it was almost translucent and when he grinned at you, you could see that his canines were too long, too pointy. Without realising it yourself, you had frozen entirely and the young man underneath you had sensed it, looking up at you in confusion before following your eyes.

“What the fuck, man!” He suddenly shouted at the other guy, anger flashing behind his eyes. “The hell are you doing here? Fuck off!” The man at the bar shrugged and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” he said with a deep sigh. “Our mother would keep tabs on us when we were kids to make sure that we didn’t get into any trouble. You have any idea how weird it is when your mother enters the dreams where you’re trying to get off with a girl? Fucking embarrasing.” He raised his eyebrows at you when he noticed that you were trying to suppress a laugh and pinched your side. “I don’t know how the fuck it works, but my mother taught the little shit how to do it as well and so he just… I dunno… shows up sometimes like the little creep that he is.”

“Does that mean that he’ll come back?”

“No. He just likes to remind me that he can do it from time to time.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head against your chest. “But fuck that. I don’t want to talk about my asshole brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“Ah shit. No. Not talking about them.” He pulled at the string on your back, pulled the bikini top from your body and threw it on the stage. “So this particular fantasy is ruined now. Let's start again, shall we?”

“Can’t we salvage it?”

“I’ve got something better.” The look on his face told you that this had the potential to be really good. “Do you trust me?”

“How bad is this going to be?” He tilted his head to the side, that wasn’t the answer that he had wanted to hear. “Yes.”

“I don’t do this a lot so bear with me alright?”

Another snap of the fingers and the strip bar starts to fade away. You were sitting on a bed now and you were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked old. The new location was just as red (he really did seem to like that colour), but it didn’t look that special to you. In fact, it looked like a fairly cheap love motel, one where lovers would retreat to so they could enjoy each other's company for about an hour before going their separate ways again.

You got up from the bed and walked over to a table by the window to look at what was set out on it. There was a big bowl of strawberries and a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne right next to it. He’d really pulled out all the stops, even in a dream. You were giggling to yourself when the door to the bathroom opened and someone appeared in the doorway. It took you a short moment before you realised who it was, but when it all clicked into place your mouth fell open.

Because leaning against the doorframe was a woman. Her dirty blonde hair was loose and still slightly wet, hinting at the fact that she’d been taking a shower moments earlier. She was wearing a silk bathrobe that was tied together by the waist with a big bow and you could see her hard nipples quite clearly through the thin material. The smirk was damn near unmistakable however. When she approached you, you instantly got the impression that you were her prey, there was just something very predatory in the way that she moved. She came to a standstill right in front of you and her mischievous eyes flashed bright green briefly.

“Feed me,” she said with a grin. You took one of the strawberries from the bowl and when you presented it to her, she held her mouth wide open, ready to be fed. You felt her tongue swipe over your fingers when you fed it to her and then she let out a single moan when she started chewing. A few seconds later you felt a finger against your chin so she could push your mouth shut. “Surprised?”

“Very.” You looked her up and down. The bathrobe barely covered the tops of her thighs and she reached down to play with the hemline, to make sure that your eyes stayed focused on her legs. “I didn’t know you could turn into a woman.”

“It’s a dream,” she stated simply. “Anything’s possible.” She leaned in to you and you closed your eyes, anticipating a kiss, but then her lips brushed against the shell of your ear as she talked. “I don’t do this a lot though. So consider yourself special.”

“All this to make up for your brother interfering?”

“Guess you could say that.” She took your hands and started pulling you along to the bed. When you reached it you thought that she was finally going to kiss you, but then she spun you round and made you sit on the bed instead. She pulled on the bow that held the bathrobe together and brushed it open, revealing herself to you slowly, like one might unveil a priceless painting. “Like what you see?”

Your throat had gone dry and you found that you had lost the ability to form words. He was beautiful when he was a man, but now that he was a woman, his toned torso had given way to soft curves and skin that looked so smooth that you wanted to do nothing else but reach out and touch it. She took a step closer and stood in between your open legs, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“You’re not talking.” There was a slight teasing tone to her voice as she spoke. “That bad?”

“No.” She took your hand and moved it up until it was covering her bare breast. You gave a quick experimental squeeze. “Just surprised. Takes some getting used to.” Your other hand moved up of its own accord so you could cup her other breast as well. “I mean, I’ve never been with another woman before.”

“You can. If you want to.”

While you had only ever been with men, the thought of being with a woman wasn’t something that you weren’t entirely opposed to. Especially not with someone as beautiful and seductive as this. She shrugged out of the robe and dropped it to the floor. The tattoo that was usually on his left arm had changed into something more delicate and feminine, pink cherry blossoms with green leaves and branches in between them that curled up her arm and covered part of her clavicle. You moved your hand up and started tracing them with your fingers, gently caressing her skin, her green eyes following your every move.

When you heard a soft giggle, you looked back at her face and before you could say anything, she’d pushed you back onto the mattress. She was on top of you a split second later and then you finally felt her soft lips on yours. You could still taste the sweet strawberry on her lips and on her tongue when she slipped it into your mouth. Your hands ran down her back, following her spine and then settling on her ass. Whenever you squeezed, she ground her hips down against yours and you were suddenly overcome with the urge to see her on her back with her hair fanned out over the red sheets.

Grabbing her hips, you flipped her over and since she’d just read your thoughts, she reached up and made sure her hair was spread out just the way that you had just imagined it. She started pushing your shirt up and you almost ripped it off in your eagerness to get naked for her, even if she’d seen you like that many times before. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and shoved her hand into your sweatpants roughly. Her fingers started rubbing at your sex, finding you very wet and very willing.

Pulling her hand out, you leaned back and pushed your pants down, kicking your legs to get them off entirely without moving too far away from her. When you were completely naked, her hand settled back at the top of your legs, her movements more hurried and urgent now. With your hands on her breasts, you started licking and nipping at her neck, moaning against her skin when one of her fingers started circling your clit.

“I want to make you come,” you groaned into her ear. “Never made you… fuck… come before.”

“But you give me so many other things,” she purred back. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You skimmed one hand down her stomach and slipped your hand between her legs. “Jesus Christ. You’re so wet.” You were rewarded with a moan when you tried touching her the way you liked to be touched. It was almost as if you were moving on autopilot, like you instinctively knew what to do. “Please.”

She didn’t reply so instead you pulled your hand away from her, making her let out a displeased whine, and you pulled your face away from her neck so she could watch you suck your fingers into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around your fingers, making sure that she could see exactly what you were doing and then moved your hand down again. You pressed them up against her entrance first, teasing her with the slightest bit of pressure and then slipped them inside. She started tilting her hips up against your hand and the way that her face contorted in pleasure really was something that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Can I?” You repeated the question since you still hadn’t gotten an answer. “I really want to.” Pressing your lips down on hers again in a searing kiss, you murmured against her lips. “Please say yes.” You pressed your fingers in as deep as they could go, all the way down to the third knuckle. Since he had seemed to like it quite a bit when you did it earlier, you tangled your fingers in her long hair and gave a forceful tug. She gasped into your mouth and you knew that you had her. “I’ll just keep doing this until you say yes.”

“Fuck.” She shifted underneath you and you reluctantly pulled your lips away from hers. “I love it when you do that.”

“I know.” A triumphant grin formed on your lips and she was so obviously into it that it was hard to drop this act. Dipping your head down, you bit her neck suddenly and she squealed with obvious delight. You decided to thrust your fingers into her harder and she was so wet now that you could hear your digits moving in and out of her. “I want to make you come so bad.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” she moaned breathlessly. “Want to take this a little bit further?”

“How?”

“I’ll give you what you want, but not like this.” She wrapped a hand around your wrist and gently pulled your hand away. She then brought your hand up to her lips and started licking her own juices off your fingers with such fervour that she could have been mistaken for a starving animal. Seeing that was so arousing that you couldn’t stop a moan from escaping from your lips. “I want you to do something else.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Check the drawers.”

You scrambled off of her, probably a little bit too fast, in your eagerness to see what was in there. You were expecting a vibrator, a buttplug even, but you must have pulled a particularly funny face when you saw what was in the drawer instead because she started laughing as soon as she saw your expression. You hooked your fingers in one of the straps and lifted it up, probably looking very much afraid to even touch it. Your eyes were wide as it hung from your fingers and you turned back to fully face her.

“You want me to wear...” You gestured at it with your free hand. “...this?”

“Well, yes, sweetheart.” She got on all fours and crawled over to your side of the bed. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Right.”

“You’re not sure.”

“It’s just… this is very much virgin territory for me.”

“You were doing fine just now.”

“That’s kinda different though, isn’t it?” You looked down at the strap-on that was still dangling from your fingers and she started poking at it playfully. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh. Truth be told, you were kind of curious about this kind of thing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” She pushed herself up on her knees and hooked her arms around your neck, pressing her entire body flush against you. “So. What do you say?”

“This is definitely one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.”

“Yes or no.” She started kissing you, nice and slow, and then sucked your bottom lip into her mouth. Your hands snaked down her back and when she nipped at your lip, you gave her ass a hard slap. “Baby!” She started giggling, her fingernails digging into your shoulder blades when you grabbed her ass and squeezed her roughly. “I love it when you manhandle me.”

“That’s new for me as well.”

“I really am pushing your boundaries, ain’t I?” She pulled away suddenly and got on all fours again, turning her ass in your direction. She wiggled her hips and peered over her shoulder until you slapped her again. “Keep doing that and I’ll climax before you’ve shoved that thing inside of me.”

“Yeah right.” But you slapped her on the other cheek just for good measure. She pushed back until her ass was pressed against your hips and then she started moving backwards and forwards like you were already thrusting into her. “I need some help… with this thing…”

She faced you again in a flash, obviously excited by your willingness to do this. The harness was on you fairly quickly all things considered and then she lowered herself, gave you a quick wink and started sucking the large dildo into her mouth. So that’s what it looked like from that angle. You stroked her hair in very much the same manner like your previous partners had always done with you whenever you went down on them. Come to think of it, you suddenly realised that you had never actually had his cock in your mouth. That probably wasn’t all that weird considering this no climaxing thing that he appeared to have going on, but whenever you’d even attempted to kiss your way down his chest, he always stopped you.

You felt her tap her fingers against your hip and then she released the dildo with a pop. “You’re overthinking this. This isn’t about me. Never was.” Sitting up on her knees again, she stroked the side of your face almost lovingly and you eased into her touch for a few seconds. “Like I said earlier, the aim is to make you come.” She flashed you a big, predatory smile and then continued, “Speaking of. You do this right and afterwards I’ll push myself into you balls deep and fuck you until your fucking alarm goes off. How’s that for a tradeoff?”

“The way that you usually are?”

“Depends on what you want.” Her hand settled on your chest and she twisted one of your nipples between her fingers. “If you want me to wear that strap-on afterwards, I can do that. No problem.”

“You’ll probably be able to tell exactly what I want when I’m done with you.”

“You bet your ass, baby.” She winked at you and then a bottle of lube magically appeared in her hand. “I know that this is a dream, but I still need to use this.”

“Do you have any idea how weird it is when you do that?” She looked at you with her perfect eyebrows raised as she squeezed some liquid into her hand, applied it liberally to the silicone shaft and then the tube disappeared again when she was done. “Magicking things up out of thin air.”

“That’s what you think is weird about all this?” She rubbed her hands between her legs, applying some more lube on her pussy and started pushing her hips up against her hands. “I can change everything about this dream, even my gender, but when I make stuff appear in my hand that’s taking it one step too far?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She turned her back on you and pressed her ass against the sex toy. “Now get it over with and fuck me already.”

“That really wasn’t necessary.” You grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled hard and twisted her head back. She laughed breathlessly and pushed her hips back again. “I’m just going to have to fuck this attitude out of you.”

“Fuck yes! Teach me a lesson.” She was practically purring the words at you. When you pushed her forward roughly, she loudly voiced her delight. You pressed one hand firmly between her shoulder blades, making sure that her face stayed down. Grabbing her hips, you made her raise her ass in the air and then positioned yourself in front of her entrance. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” With one thrust of your hips, you slipped inside of her and she let out a long stretched out moan as you watched the dildo disappear inside of her. “You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that sudden admission. For some reason she was playing the part that loads of women seemed to play in porn movies and when you started pumping in and out of her, she wouldn’t stop moaning about how good it felt and how well you were fucking her. This really was something else and whenever you glanced down at how her ass rippled whenever your hips connected with her, you couldn’t help but be completely fascinated with how it looked, practically unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Her noises started increasing and you kept slapping her already reddening ass in between thrusts. Pulling out almost entirely, you pushed back in so hard that her moans were starting to sound muffled. Never once pausing what you were doing on her, you slid one hand down over her hip so you could touch her clit. You ran the other one up her spine, tightened your fingers in her hair and yanked her up, pulling her against your chest.

“I wanna hear you,” you groaned in her ear and she started whimpering instantly. “You gonna come for me now?”

“Almost,” she mewled back. “I’m so close.” You speeded up the motions against her clit and she let out a loud cry, reaching back with one hand to wrap it around the back of your head. You were barely able to move your hips at this odd angle, but she didn’t seem to care from the way that she was bucking up against your hand and panting. When she started whimpering and rubbing her back against your chest, you could feel the muscles in her thighs constricting against your hand. “Fuck.”

A grunt of pleasure was torn from her throat and she arched her back, all her muscles going rigid all at once when her orgasm tore through her. You kept her pulled against you, absolutely delighted that you appeared to have done this right despite being slightly weirded out about it at first. When you released her, she dropped down onto the bed, completely out of breath. You lay down on your side next to her and studied her face closely. Her eyes were squeezed shut and you ran your fingers up and down her jaw as she caught her breath.

“Gimme a sec…”

You saw her swallow hard, her throat no doubt having gone dry. You got up off the bed and giggled when you looked down. Seeing that huge silicone dildo swaying about with every step that you took really looked hilarious. When you reached the table, you were ready to struggle with attempting to open the champagne before noticing that she’d already taken care of that. There were two glasses filled with the sparkly liquid standing right next to it.

When you turned back around, you saw that she was gone and that he was now laying on the bed in her place. You briefly frowned, sad that you hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye before realising that they were one and the same person. You heard him laughing from the bed when you walked back with the glass in your hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” You sat down next to him and waited until he’d pushed himself up into a sitting position before handing him the glass. He emptied the glass in one big sip. “Wanting to say goodbye.”

“I just forgot. Until earlier I thought that you were nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

“Oh no.” He threw the glass across the room and it bounced off the wall before rolling onto the floor. He looked down at your lap and flicked his fingers against the strap-on. “I’m very real.”

“Can you help me get this thing off?”

“Or you could keep it on.” He flashed you a quick and very dirty smile. “I’d let you peg me.”

You almost choked when you tried to imagine what that would look like and blurted out a quick, “One thing at a time please.”

“Spoilsport.” He tapped a finger on the harness and then it was gone. “You’d be pretty good at it, you know. Pull my hair a couple of times and I’m yours to do with as you please.” Before you could reply to that, he put an arm around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. Moving you onto your back, he knocked all the air out of your lungs when he suddenly got on top of you and pinned your hands up above your head. “But I promised to do something else anyway. So I win anyway.”

He kept true to his word and fucked you with such ferocity afterwards that when you finally woke up the following morning, it was a damn miracle that you were even able to walk at all. And all that just because of a dream. In the many more dreams that followed afterwards, the woman made an appearance on more than one occasion. On some nights you would just get her and other times he would turn into her while he had his mouth on your pussy. You were never entirely sure about how the entire thing even worked. He wasn’t merely something that your horny mind had come up with one night. No, he was indeed very real.

A couple of months into this very odd arrangement, where he would satisfy your every desire while you were asleep, you were at the beach with your friends. They were convinced that you were seeing someone even if you always said that you weren’t. Maybe this little weekend getaway was a ploy to get more information out of you, but how could you possibly tell them that you’d met someone in your dreams? You’d sound like a bloody lunatic.

When the four of you were looking for a spot to spread out your beach towels, you passed two guys. One was sitting underneath a parasol, dressed in a black t-shirt and black shorts, making sure that no part of him even got out of the shade that was provided by the large umbrella over his head. He was scowling at another young man with long blonde wavy hair who was sitting next to him, strumming a blue ukulele.

Your small group settled down a couple of feet away from them and stripped down to the bathing suits that you wore underneath your clothes. You were wearing a red triangle bikini, somehow now also favouring the colour since your dreams were constantly bathed in it. Your friends headed down towards the water while you sat down on your towel and started reading the romance novel that you’d brought with you.

After a couple of minutes, you realised that you had completely stopped paying attention to what you were reading but were instead focusing entirely on the young man a couple of feet behind you who had started singing. You instantly recognised the song that he was singing. It was the song that the sirens sang to Odysseus in the Odyssey. You were so hypnotised by the song, that you’d completely forgotten about your surroundings. It wasn’t until something slammed into your upper arm that the spell was broken. Your head whipped to the side and you saw a frisbee laying next to you in the sand.

“My bad!” A voice called out to you and you picked the piece of plastic up to hold it out to whoever was approaching you. “I am so sorry! I should have caught that.”

“No problem. Not like I’m…” As soon as you looked up the words died in your throat and you instead stared at the young man who was now standing next to you with wide eyes. “Wait…”

“Well, this is a surprise.” He dropped down onto his knees next to you in the sand, a huge smile plastered all over his face, and he took the frisbee from your hands. “Definitely wasn’t expecting this.” For some reason, you reached out and poked a finger against his chest. You half expected that your mind was playing some kind of trick on you, as if your finger was going to pass right through him, but it didn’t. “See? Real.”

“Serk!” Another voice called out and he tore his eyes away from yours to look at whoever it was that had called his name. “Stop hitting on girls and toss the frisbee back!”

“I’m done playing!” He threw the frisbee back which the other guy effortlessly caught. “Tell Sigurd to play with you before he drowns someone with his singing.”

“Fine! But you owe me.” He winked at you and turned around to join the other two guys that you had passed when you had just arrived. Your eyes were drawn to his back or to be more specific to the long braid that swung back and forth as he walked away.

“Stop checking out my brother.” You blinked and turned your attention back on him. “You want me to introduce you? I mean, if you’d rather want to spend time with him than me…”

“What? No!” He chuckled when your words came out louder than you intended. “Not funny.” He ran a hand down your arm, mirroring the same thing that he’d often do in your dreams. “He called you Serk. Is that your name?”

“Short for Hvitserk.” He held out his hand to you. “And what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied when you took his hand in yours. He repeated your name with a warm smile. “I erm… this is weird…”

“Is it?” He let your hand go and got to his feet. You panicked slightly, thinking that he might leave, when he suddenly extended his hand to you. “Come on. I wanna buy you a drink.”

“And then what?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug when he pulled you up off the ground. “Sit with me. Talk. I know you, but that’s the dream you and now I want to know the real you. That okay?”

“Sure.” He started pulling you along to the beach bars a short distance away. “I’d like that.”

*****

And this moodboard is based on when I described female Hvitserk coming out of the bathroom.

[barbenheimer-core]

AUDERE EST FACERE !

하나. chanel : part two — 1.7k words

TURN.

The lights in the shop lowered in their intensity, and Ahyeong gasped, drawing in heavy breaths of air as her limbs finally moved of her own accord, bending low to clutch her knees and balance herself when she slightly stumbled.

"Are you okay?" Wangja the Shop Owner asked, concerned about the sudden change in demeanor.

"I,"— Ahyeong found herself at a loss for words, what was happening to her?— "I don't know."

An abnormal lucid dream, she thought, that was what she was experiencing. One in which she was aware of her made-up fantasy world but couldn't control her speech and actions at times.

It was like the dream itself had a script of its own.

Huh. Maybe that was it. She just had to follow the script.

"Umm... I think I should get going," she mumbled, hoping her hunch was right.

Wangja looked a bit disappointed that he couldn't carry on the conversation, but nodded in agreement. The sleek black car outside that he had spotted while coming in was probably her driver waiting on her.

Suho was still coughing on their way out, and upon the two shooting concerned looks at him he merely ignored them, gaining his composure and zooming past them and into the dimly lit night in his mildly flustered state.

As Ahyeong stepped into the cold night air, she saw her family's personal car, finding Driver Kwon sitting in front of the wheel through the tinted windows.

Her family and acquaintances must be the same as before then.

"Well, do come by often," Wangja said, handing her the copy of Shiver that she had been sifting through previously, and when Ahyeong looked at him confusedly, he winked, "as an insurance that you do visit, I'm letting you borrow it. Remember, the shop's policy only lets you borrow items for two weeks. Any more and you'll have to compensate."

The girl tucked the comic under her elbow, amused at his antics as if she'd known him for a long time, and said without thinking, "Does ramyeon work as compensation?"

The shop owner grinned, "Aye, you know me so well. Now go. Your driver is giving me the creeps with his glare."

Ahyeong chuckled at that. Driver Kwon was rather overprotective over the Song siblings and got suspicious of anyone who got within six feet of them, even the people the two kids had explicitly stated were their friends.

Bidding Wangja goodbye, Ahyeong slipped into the leather seats of the car, fastening the seatbelt around herself as was the clearly stated rule by the person in front of her who turned the key as soon as she got in, revving the engine before taking off into the night and to, presumably, her home.

Ahyeong paused at the front door, looking at the front lawn with puzzled eyes.

Why did it look even more extravagant than it was on a usual day?

The flowers were in full bloom despite spring having passed months ago, the garden lights were still switched on, illuminating the finely-trimmed shrubs and foliage, and the cars were displayed out in the open instead of being in the garage.

It was as if someone was trying to make a drawing of a picturesque rich household, perfect in every aspect with next to no flaws in its design.

The mahogany doors opened abruptly, halting her thoughts, and the housemaid, Eunjung, hurriedly ushered her in, putting slippers in front of the girl's feet as she toed her shoes off.

"Why were you out so late? It's past curfew. Thank goodness Mrs. Song hasn't returned from work yet, or you would've been in trouble," she fussed.

Trouble with her mother? That was odd. That never happened because Ahyeong usually informed Eunjung of where she was going, and her mother didn't really mind if she was out past curfew as long as she had alerted someone of coming in late.

"I'll prepare your dinner while you wash up. Do you want to eat at the table or should I bring it to your room upstairs?"

"My room, if it's not too much trouble."

Eunjung waved her hands, dismissing her, and scurried off to the kitchen while Ahyeong headed up the stairs to the West Wing of the house where her bedroom resided.

Contrary to what she thought, her room had not been what she expected.

It was littered with cardboard boxes and suitcases, most of them unpacked and organized but there still being enough to do that the floor looked messy.

Ahyeong remembered her involuntary words back at Prince Comics.

So her family moved to Seoul in this dream?

From where though? She's never lived anywhere else other than this city.

Oh well, too bad. There was no use dwelling on it. Her dream would end as soon as she would go to sleep and wake up anyway.

But her nagging mind urged her to clean her room up, and despite knowing that her efforts may be in vain she obliged, and by the end of the hour, her room looked just as it had been in real life.

Setting her towel by the bathroom rack to dry, Ahyeong sat down in front of her desk in her pajamas, where the maid had spread out a variety of steaming dishes on fine china while she had been tidying up.

Leave it to Eunjung to make mouth-watering food for any time of the day.

Just as she raised her spoon to eat the seaweed soup, her door swung open.

Gilyeong stood by the threshold, racing to her and shoving his phone in her face, a rather horrible picture of a mangled body on its screen.

"What the-" Ahyeong dropped her utensils with a clang, pushing the device away from her face with a disgusted expression and glaring at her brother, who giggled mischievously, "I'm trying to eat, you gremlin. Don't make me lose my appetite."

"It's payback for the time you showed me a clip of a gutted person when I was trying to eat pat-bingsu. Now get a taste of your own medicine, grinch," Gilyeong laughed evilly, shoving his phone into Ahyeong's eyesight as she tried to stop him from ruining her eyes in front of her food.

Even in dreams, her brother was as nasty as they came.

"You evil little-" Ahyeong wrestled the phone out of his hands, making the younger Song frown and whine at her to give it back to him, and got an idea as she glanced at the shelf on top of her desk.

"If you promise to behave yourself this week, I'll let you borrow that," she said, pointing at the Junji Ito comic that Wangja had let her borrow.

Gilyeong looked up, and his eyes glimmered in anticipation as he jumped up to grab it from the shelf.

"Woah, where did you get this from?" He exclaimed as he started to peruse the pages, "It was out of stock in every bookstore I dragged you to."

"I got it from a hippie who starred in a drama," she smirked at her brother's puzzled face , "so, do we have a deal?"

She raised her hands as she said so.

Her brother looked up at her suspiciously, eyes narrowed in contemplation, then nodded briefly, "deal."

He raised his palms, meeting Ahyeong's halfway as they did their Handshake of Temporary Truce.

Yes, they had different handshakes for a whole list of situations.

"But you still have to pay up for your flinches from yesterday and now," he drawled while walking out of her room.

Wait, yesterday?

"What do you mean the flinch from yesterday?"

Gilyeong stopped midway and turned around, confused.

"Don't tell me you've been getting amnesia too. We were at the restaurant yesterday with Mum and Dad's investors, remember?"

With that ominous comment, he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

Sunlight peeked through the half-open blinds, beaming on Ahyeong's face as she woke up and looked around her room, same as ever.

What a crazy dream.

She remembered it as clear as day.

But it was over and done with, and she was in reality now.

For a moment she pondered how she had gotten into her bed, but then trashed the thought. One of her parents had probably carried her here when she had fallen into a deep sleep in the lobby of the restaurant.

She got up, picking up her phone to look at the day and time.

It was around 8 on a Sunday morning, and Ahyeong yawned, kicking off her blanket to freshen up. She woke up too early for a weekend.

Deciding to explore the city for the day, she changed into a button-up and denim trousers, picking up a set of Doc Martens on her way out for breakfast.

"What's new this mornin', gremlin," she greeted Gilyeong while running down the stairs, who sat by the couch reading something, its cover blocked out of her eyesight.

She slightly tripped on the last two steps and hit her knee on the railing, hissing in pain and lightly hopping towards the dining table.

"Good morning, Eunjung-ssi," Ahyeong smiled through her discomfort at the maid, in complete contrast to the way she greeted her brother, and he scowled at her from his spot but didn't say anything.

Eunjung rolled her eyes in good nature at the sibling's antics, all too used to it, "Good morning to you too."

She set down two servings of rice, soup, and a variety of side dishes for breakfast, and the siblings came to sit at the dining table.

As Ahyeong scooped up a spoonful of rice, she saw Gilyeong putting down his book, finally spotting its cover.

She paused.

"Hey, dongsaeng, how did you get that?" She said as she pointed at the copy of Shiver.

The young Song stopped eating, pointing a fake grin at her.

"From the grinch who got it from a hippie who starred in a drama."

This was not a dream.

masterlist

© 2021 Alfia Sheikh, All Rights Reserved

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @helenaeisenhower​​ @villanellevi​​ @hurricanerin​​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @iheartsebandchris​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​

[n-ctarinenga]

New Wallapaper [ awsten knight ]

a @calmlftv​​​ birthday special! | word count: 2,302 | masterlist

After probably the longest birthday of your life, you fell back into the warm embrace of your bed. 

Your day had started early, your best friends and roommates waking you up with breakfast in bed, before promptly shoving you downstairs and insisting on pampering you. 

By lunchtime, you'd played an intense game of monopoly, had a sparkling manicure, tasted endless mocktails with stupid pun names, and watched all of the 5 seconds of summer cocktail chats videos on the large TV in your living room. 

You were happy you'd agreed to a chill day at home for your 23rd, taking the day off work and scolding your friends when they decided to do the same. You had taken the time to celebrate with your workmates and extended friend group over the weekend, having dinner with your family the night before on Sunday before finally settling in to take time out for yourself, which your friends were happy about considering you were always the first to help everyone else before yourself. There was no doubt in your mind that you were loved by the people around you though, all of them reminding you of it constantly through the day.

At first, you didn't understand why they insisted on having dinner early, and grew suspicious that maybe they had something planned for tonight that you were yet to be told about. 

"Who has dinner at two pm?" You ask, watching one of your friends prepare a filet steak just the way you like, the large fat of the meat being put to the side for her dog later.

"We do, now stop questioning it." Another answers, shoving yet another red velvet cupcake iced to look like a sunflower into your hands. 

You narrow your eyes at the three of them, all glancing at each other and speaking in eye movements and hand gestures so you couldn't decipher their words. 

Your attention is pulled away though by your phone that sits in your lap, a new text from your boyfriend, Awsten, filling the screen. 

While you wished he could be with you for your birthday, you knew what you signed up for when you started to fall in love with a musician, and that was weeks and months on end of facetimes and texts while miles apart. 

Awsten was currently on the other side of the country, but that didn't stop him from blowing up your phone any moment he could with his newest invention, birthday bombing, aka putting a party hat on anything he could find to show you that you were being celebrated even if you couldn't see it in person. 

The thought alone was enough to make your heart swell with joy, but as you received yet another picture of your boyfriend wearing a line of hats like dinosaur spikes down his back, you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

At the sudden noise, one of your friends looks over your shoulder, laughing at the picture you were quickly setting as your lockscreen. 

"Your man is a nerd." She chuckles, and you shake your head with a laugh, smiling fondly as you lock your phone again. 

"Yeah, he is." 

Little did you know, Awsten was a lot closer than the 200+ miles away you thought he was. 

In fact, Awsten was currently running around Houston searching for the exact perfect items he needed for your surprise, periodically sending you the pictures he had had Geoff, Otto and Jawn help him stockpile before his flight back this morning.

He pocketed his phone after sending you his personal favorite of the bunch, his fantastic dinosaur impersonation, and returned to picking out his birthday cards for you, drawn to the biggest and most decorative ones on the shelves. 

Ever since the day you told him about your lack of celebration for your birthday in your teenage and recent years, Awsten had the idea in his head to make sure you got to celebrate the special day in some way, someday. After all, it was the day his favorite person was born. 

Adding a 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, and 23rd birthday card to the growing pile in his arms, Awsten walked to the counter, where the assistant gave him a suspicious look. 

"Girlfriend's birthday." He explains with a smile, earning a small nod from the woman as she placed them all into a bag. 

"Either you have a lot of making up to do or you have a very humorous girlfriend." She comments, handing him the back and grabbing a pen from a display beside the counter, throwing it in too. 

"You're probably gonna need it." She whispers, a kind smile on her face as a grin spreads across his. 

"A bit of both, and you're right, thank you." He laughs, sending her a nod of thanks as he walks out. 

With the cards and your present already taken care of, all that remained was the picnic basket he had to fill and the flowers he was set to pick up next. 

While you sat at the head of the dining table, your friends hands over your eyes as the other two carried and lit your cake, Awsten was already walking into the flower shop packed to the brim with fragrance and colour. 

"Happy birthday, dear y/n, happy birthday to you!" Your friends cheer, eyes uncovered to see a large, delicately iced red velvet cake, very similar to the cupcakes you had been handed throughout the day, but this time with two gold and white candles lit on top, a bright and shiny 23 right in the middle. 

You can't help the wide grin that covers your face once again as you make your wish, blowing out the candles with light dancing in your eyes as a friend snaps pictures of you for later.

Cake and presents are taken care of before the hour is up, and after showering you with buckets of affection all day, your friends finally let you escape for some time alone, letting you know if you need absolutely anything to just call them, all of them still heavily dedicated to their role as birthday elves. 

A smile still plays on your lips as you relax on your bed, the sound of Daphne Blue by the band CAMINO playing on your record player across the room letting you relax as the day sank in, a content sigh escaping you as you recall the events of the day.

You're confused though as you hear the sound of music still playing well after the end of Honest, the needle on your vinyl travelling to the middle of the record and waiting on you to flip it in silence. 

With a confused frown, you climb off your bed, walking over to your window to investigate the source of the noise. 

Catching a sight of bright green, a small scream escapes your lips as you see Awsten standing below your window, a bluetooth speaker held above his head playing Blink 182 on full volume. 

"Happy birthday babe!!" He cheers loudly, his heart racing as you hang your head out of your window, shock evident on your face.

"Awsten!! How the fuck did you get here so quick, crazy??" You call back, happy tears gathering in your eyes. 

"For you? Yeah. Now are you gonna let me in so I can kiss you or what?" He asks teasingly, making you shake your head at him, grinning as you close your window and run out of your room, basically flying down the stairs and past your grinning best friends. 

You swing the door open, and hit Awsten's body full force as his arms wrap around you tightly, tears starting to fall as you actually get to touch him again. 

"Hey sweetheart." He grins, kissing the top of your head and drinking in the familiar scent of your shampoo and conditioner. 

"You're home." You cry into his chest before pulling back so you can hold his face with both of your hands, still in shock that he's real and in front of you. 

"And I still like you even though you're twenty three." He jokes, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him so he can finally kiss you after so long apart. 

The small action made your heart burst, the feeling of having him so close again like taking a breath after feeling your lungs burn under water. It made your skin shiver and your heartbeat race, even with your best friends wolf whistling in the background. 

"Speaking of, why did you go all 'boombox outside my window'?" You ask, pulling back and frowning at him. 

"I wanted to be romantic." He shrugs, making you shake your head as you laugh. 

"Dork." You say lovingly to assure him, making a wider smile spread across his face. 

"Okay," He pecks your lips one more time, nodding in the direction of the stairs, "there's more surprise to go so you go wait up there while I get everything else." 

You try to fight his instructions for a moment, wanting to help, but give up when he gives you a look that says 'don't even try'. 

It takes Awsten all of three minutes to run from your door to his car and back again, picnic basket and presents in hand as he mouths a thank you to the girls in the living room, them helping him all along without your knowledge. 

Confusion washes over you as you see the picnic basket in his hand as he walks in, proudly and confidently walking towards you and dropping a bag down on the bed beside where you sit. 

"Open." He instructs, pointing to the bag that you eye suspiciously. 

"What have you done here, Knight?" You ask, watching as he takes the blanket from off the end of your bed to lay on the floor and opening the bag to peak inside. 

"We are having a very special edition air conditioned picnic where I don't have to worry about my gorgeous girlfriend being bitten by ten million mosquitoes." He explains, still making your cheeks heat up at his words just as easily as he always had. 

Awsten occupies himself setting up the indoor picnic as you take the top envelope from the bag, opening the small pastel pink package to see a very glittery, very girly happy 1st birthday card. 

"Sweetheart," you laugh lightly, "I think you got the wrong card." 

"No I didn't, I got you a card for every year you've been alive because we're celebrating all the birthdays you didn't before." He states simply, but it hits you as anything but simple. 

"Awsten…" You trail off, opening another few cards with tears in your eyes. 

"Do you… do you like it?" He asks, walking over on his knees to kneel in front of you, suddenly unsure of the gesture of the cards. 

The tears start to fall as you look down at him, pulling him into a kiss that makes him melt like putty in your hands. 

"I absolutely love it. I'm gonna put them all up like another wallpaper." You laugh happily, while he wipes away the tears that fall down your cheeks. 

"Sounds like a plan to me. But first," He points to the open picnic basket on your floor, "we have some tacos to take care of." 

You thank your lucky stars for the bright, in every sense of the word, man in front of you as you eat, happily exchanging stories of nightmare customers you'd had in recent weeks for his stories of venues that made your toes curl. 

When the tiredness finally took over, Awsten pulled you into bed, legs tangling together and his arms around you once again as he fell asleep, while you stayed awake a little bit longer, reading the messages placed all through the 23 cards you had been given while relaxing back into the arms of the man you love. 

You could feel his breath on your neck behind you, comforting and familiar as you finally reach card 23, a gasp leaving you as the simple but gorgeous necklace tucked inside falls onto your bed beside you.

You pick up the small tear shaped ruby gem necklace from beside you and hold onto it tightly, unknowingly moving closer to the man near squeezing the breath out of you even in his sleep. 

Reading the card in the soft light of your bedside lamp gets harder as tears cloud your vision, but you do your best to push through it. 

Today, we celebrate 23 years since the love of my life was born. You, not Carlos Santana. You know I toe the line of being cheesy every day, but I apologize in advance for diving over the edge for a moment. For a long time I felt like I had to escape who I was, and for a while, I did, but I lost a home that I couldn't find no matter where I searched for it. The closest I ever got to that home was your arms that night you pulled me in, and thank god you didn't let me go, because you've proven to me over and over again that I do have a home, and it's in the spot right by your side. You're the one thing in my life I know I got right, and you deserve to feel like the most important person in the world, because to me, you are. There would never be enough space in a card for me to tell you how much I love you, but I plan on letting you know every day for the rest of my life. I still like you, I still love you, and I still think you're an actual angel. Happy birthday sunshine. 

taglist | @spicycal​ @calmlftv​ @irwinkitten​  @mrandleer​ @candidcal​  @lukeskisses​  @wallflowercal​  @brooklynsninenine​ ​ @whereveryouares​ @everyscarisahealingplace​

[jacobseedvaas35]

A Love Like No Other

Jacob Seed X OC Ana Pearce

Warning: Violence, Smut, Mention of abuse

Word Count: 1108

Chapter Three

Jacob's been going mad. He already had nightmares to deal with when it came to not getting any sleep but now he had something else bothering him. He didn't want to tell anyone because he felt embarrassed but he knew that his brothers wouldn't judge him. Instead they'd help and guide him, so that was what he did. Jacob drove down to Joseph's compound to have a talk with him.

"What's bothering you Jacob? You seem down" John asked. The three brothers sitting inside the church waiting for the Pearce siblings to arrive.

"It's nothings" Jacob tried to shut down his little brother but John was a stubborn man.

"I don't believe you" John continued. "Somethings wrong and you aren't telling us. Not getting enough sleep again?".

"Yeah" Jacob responded.

"Nightmares again Jacob?" Joseph asked and took a seat next to his big brother.

"Partially".

"Oh so something else is bothering you? We are all ears brother" Joseph said. John joined his brothers and waited for Jacob to open up to them.

Jacob sighed and looked up at Joseph. "It's Ana".

"Ana? You mean that girl that came to the church with her brother, Sunday morning?" Joseph asked.

"Yeah. I've been thinking about her a lot" Jacob confessed.

"Oh. Someone's in love" John teased.

"John" Joseph was quick to shut his brother up. "Keep going Jacob".

"She denied being abused by her parents but her brother said differently that day" Jacob explained to his brothers.

"Maybe she's scared" Joseph suggested. "We've been through it too Jacob. We know what it's like to be afraid to tell the truth".

"I'd like to help her" Jacob informed them.

"Is there something else you'd like to tell us Jacob? Could John actually be right?" Joseph asked.

"What do you mean?" Jacob was confused.

"You like her. You've never made other people's problems yours Jacob" John smirked. "So admit it. You like her".

"I barely know the girl John. How can I like someone I don't even know?" Jacob asked.

"Well she is quite beautiful. I must admit" John said.

"Yes. You're right John. She is beautiful" Joseph agreed.

"That doesn't mean anything" Jacob barked.

"Answer me this" John said.

"Fine"

"When you think about her, do you... you know, jerk off?" W asked.

Jacob looked at his brothers and signed, admitting to them that he has. "Can you blame me? It's been years since I've gotten any action".

"Don't be embarrassed to admit it Jacob. We've all been down that way" Joseph reassured his brother. "Your little secret is safe with us. Right John?".

"Thanks".

The doors to the church opened wide and in walked the four Pearce siblings and Faith. Joseph stood up and welcomed them all with hugs, introducing himself and his brothers to Hannah and Haley. Jacob and Ana came eye to eye and then smiled at each other.

"Hi Jacob" Ana greeted him.

"Hi" Jacob responded back and walked away from the group, taking a seat on the bench at the front of the church.

Ana's smile immediately disappeared and became upset. She turned to John and asked if everything was ok. He suggested to her that it was best if she spoke to him, herself. Ana made her way next to Jacob and took a seat next to Jacob.

"Is everything ok?" She asked him.

"Yeah I'm ok. Didn't get a proper sleep last night so I'm a little tired today" Jacob replied back, not looking at Ana.

"Nice try, Jacob but I think there is something else wrong with you?" Ana continued to pressure him for a proper answer.

"Really Ana, I'm just tired" Jacob insisted.

"So we can't go to the Mountain's today?" Ana asked, hoping that would light Jacob up a bit.

"You wanna go today?"

"If you're up for it?" Ana smiled.

"I don't see why not" Jacob smiled back.

"Awesome. I got a picnic basket ready while my parents were out" Ana said, standing up and grabbing Jacob's hand. "Come on let's go".

Jacob stood up with Ana's help. They said their goodbyes to everyone and left the church together. Ana still holding Jacob's hand tightly. She grabbed the picnic basket from the back of her parent's van and carried it to Jacob's truck.

"Ana"

"Yes Jacob"

"I'm gonna need my hand to drive" Jacob lifted their hands up, for him to show Ana.

"Oh sorry" she said and immediately let go of his hand.

Jacob opened the passenger door for Ana and helped her in, before making his way to the drivers side. "Whitetail Mountains, here we come".

-

As they drove through Whitetail Mountains, Ana's eyes lit up when she saw the mountains in the distance. This place was beautiful. She looked at Jacob and gave him the biggest smile, before turning her head and looking out the window again.

"Oh Jacob, this place is beautiful" Ana said.

"It sure is. I'm lucky to call this region my home"

"You live in Whitetail Mountains? Oh my god, you are so lucky"

Jacob smirked. "I’ll give you a tour of this region one day”.

“You’re the best” Ana said.

-

Jacob and Ana spent their whole day in Whitetail Mountains. Had a picnic on top of a mountain and got to know each other a lot more. Spending all those hours with Ana made Jacob realise that his brothers were right. He did like her but the strange thing was, they’d only known each other for five days. Plus, why would a young and beautiful girl like someone like Jacob. That’s what he kept telling himself.

After Ana and Jacob returned back to the church, the Pearce siblings immediately left to go home. Jacob sat down with his brothers and sister and confessed the truth to them.

“You have to be open with her Jacob” Joseph suggested.

“I can’t Joseph. Confessing something like this might push her away” Jacob worried.

“So what are you going to do?” John asked.

“I’m going to try and keep away from her. It’s not doing me any good. I’ve got nightmares that make me have crap night sleeps, last thing I need is a woman to add to it” Jacob stood up and walked to the church doors. “If they come down again, don’t call me”.

“And if she asks us about you? What do we say?” John asked.

“I’m busy with work” Jacob replied and walked out off the church.

“Poor Ana. Blake was telling me how much Ana appreciates his friendship and closeness” Faith informed her brothers.

“Oh dear. This is going to break her heart” Joseph said and looked at the church doors.

[read-of-the-day-blog]

Lunula

Noun [loo-nyuh-luh]

Something shaped like a narrow crescent, as the small, pale area at the base of the fingernail.

The mid-morning sun washed through the sterile, white room of Abigale Peters as her nurse helped her into the chair set by the window. She lowered her slowly and with practiced care that would be given to any other resident of the Rolling Hills Nursing Home. "Betty, be a dear and fetch my purse. We have to make it to church in time to greet the pastor or ill never hear the end of it from that nosey Mrs. Bradberry."

The plump, young nurse, whose name was really June, smiled patiently and turned to face the woman in the doorway, who stood tall and lithe but with some reservation. Her fingers curled around the handle of a soft pink kaboodle kit. She nodded graciously to the nurse and stepped inside. "Mama, you've already been to church today. The pastor loved your hat, don't you remember?" The old woman never did, but Denise always felt the urge to ask. Always hopeful that her mother would one day respond with an "Oh, of course, Denise. How could I forget?" But she never did, not anymore. She watched as her aging mother's brow furrowed in brief confusion before quickly being distracted by the movement of the trees outside her window. Denise sighed quietly and thanked June as the nurse set up a stool beside the chair and took her leave. Denise tucked a strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear and set the kaboodle on the chair-side table. With a click, it opened and Denise took her seat on the stool, adjusting for comfort as she spoke. "Mama...its time for another manicure. What color would you like today?"

"I always loved yellow. My kitchen is yellow, you know. Jacob always hated it. But I told him, I said...'well you won't be in it near as much as me and if I'm gonna be making you breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day, I want to do it in a room that makes me happy." Abigale gave a tired laugh. "That damn husband of mine. He's always gone at work nowadays. Betty, do you know when he'll be back?"

Denise paused and looked at her mother. Those blank eyes hurt her more than the questions, but not as much as being called 'Betty'. Betty was Abigale's sister who had died ten years ago and who her mother hadn't spoken to for at least thirty. It cut her like a knife, taking a tiny piece of her every time, but her therapist had urged her to try and not take it personally. Spite rose like a poison in her and for a moment she considered reminding her mother that Daddy was dead and gone, but that would only upset her, and not for long enough to make Denise feel any better. She took a deep breath and counted down from ten in her head before shaking the feeling and correcting her tone to the usual forced pleasantness she used on Sunday mornings. "This afternoon, I'm told."

Her mother nodded with a smaller smile, satisfied. Figuring she would never actually give her a color (yellow was a ridiculous color for nails. If her mother were in any lucid state she would never stand for it), she decided to pick one herself. Primrose. A proper color for a proper lady.

She shook the bottle and grabbed the emery board, cuticle pusher, and nail trimmers, setting all aside and pushing through the other bottles for the acetone and some stray cotton balls. She took her mother's hand, wrinkled with age and almost impossibly soft. The knobs and twists of arthritis in her knuckles still felt foreign to her, even after so many years. Denise drew in a sharp breath meant to control her emotions and set to work removing the dark polish from the week before. "I spoke to Cynthia two days ago. I asked when she may be able to make it back in town for a visit since she had to push back last month, but she wasn't sure. She asked that I.." Denise tightened her jaw. "...that I tell you that she loves you. And she misses you." Denise didn't believe it. Not for a moment. Cynthia cried and confided in her how hard it was to watch their mother deteriorate but Denise couldn't help but think that if she were actually here, marinating in the decline as Denise had been, perhaps maybe it wouldn't feel like such a drastic change each time she saw her. It was hard on Denise too....but she was here.

Abigale smiled brightly. "Cynthia is such a doll! You know she won junior Miss. Dickson twice? Bell of the ball! Oh!" She laughed. "Jacob practically had to beat the boys away with a stick." Denise rolled her eyes and shook her head. Abigale continued. "Cynthia always takes such great care of herself. I wondered why she wasn't a bigger help to Denise. The poor child couldn't stay out of the yard for more than an hour at a time. Hair always a mess. Always dirt under her fingernails." Denise's shoulders tightened. She looked at her own nails, nowadays well manicured and clean as a whistle. Abigale always said she was a 'late bloomer' but Denise more or less saw herself as an appeaser.

"Im sure Denise tried very hard to make you happy..." She muttered as she moved to the other hand.

"Well, she did what she could with what she had I suppose. Never as blessed as Cynthia in the ways of social graces-"

"Well maybe you would prefer Cynthia do your nails?"

Abigail turned to face her youngest daughter. "...what?"

Denise wiped away the polish on the last nail and shook her head. "Nothing. Maybe I should put on some music, hm?" Anything to stop the Cynthia golden child hour. There was only so much Denise could take. She stood and tossed the used cotton balls into a nearby wastebasket a bit more aggressively than was necessary before going to the radio and turning the dial to the designated oldies station, filling the room with the musical stylings of Doris Day. Abigale smiled and hummed along. Denise took another breath as she gripped the edge of the dresser and counted down from ten once more.

When she returned to her seat she started trimming her cuticles and filing her nails. Denise sat in anxious silence for a few minutes before asking a question she was certain she would.immediately regret. "And what about Denise? Were...were you proud of her?"

"Whats that, Betty?" Her mother had been lost in the music but Denise couldn't take it. She let out a small, muffled, anguished cry. "In not Betty, Mama! I'm your daughter! I'm Denise! I am here every week! I take you to church and to the doctor. I do your nails! Why can't you remember!?" She pleaded.

"Denise lives in Birmingham.," Abigale said with a furrowed brow. "Yes I used to, but I moved back here. To take care of you! Me, Denise! Not Cynthia, not Betty. Denise!"

A blank stare was all she got in return. Denise stood and put the tools back in the kit and walked to the bedside table to pluck a kleenex from the patterned box that was stationed there. She dabbed at the edges of her eyes and wrapped her arms around her frame, cradling the broken bits of her in front of the only person she believed could put them back together, but simply didn't possed the faculties to do so anymore. Her mother was never one to coddle even when she was aware. Self-comfort was simply a means of survival as much now as it has always been.

Abigale watched her all the while, worry falling over her time-worn features. She was quiet for a moment, as though considering what should be said to comfort the woman in her room. She was clearly upset though she couldn't imagine why.

"Dear...I'm sorry if you're upset." Her voice was quiet and gentle. The radio, as if deciding to attempt and cut the tension began to play 'Ain't Too Proud To Beg' by The Temptations. It felt cruel in context to Denise, but Abigale lit up and even clapped. "Oh, I love this song, don't you?"

Denise did, in fact, but she was in no mood. She simply cleaned up her face and made her way back to the stool, snatching the color from the table and shaking the bottle again. She told herself she would not speak again if she could help it. Today was one of those 'bad days' they talk about in her support groups. It was healthier not to take part in it for her own sanity. But then her mother said the most incredible thing.

"You used to sing this song and dance around the kitchen when we would clean up after dinner. It always tickled me. You have such a lovely singing voice. It's a pity you wouldn't sing for the church choir. I suppose you had too much personality for it, really. Such a big voice for such a skinny little thing."

Denise froze. A droplet of polish fell from the brush onto her skirt, but she hardly noticed or cared. "You...you remember that, Mama?"

Abigale grinned. "Oh, of course, Denise. How could I forget?"

They smiled at one another. Recognition flashing across Abigale's face, and relief washing over Denise's. And for that brief and fleeting moment, Denise felt whole again.