#and I was so down when I planned this little jaunt back like I fully wasn’t even gonna bother seeing friends

[raylangivins]

The romantic haze of coming home for the weekend and eating various delicious meals with my loved ones…

[reidgraygubler]

peanut buttercup (matthew gray gubler/reader)

Title: Peanut Buttercup

Anon Requested: Hi so I been asking for this request for awhile but no one seems to do it. I was wondering if you could write a Matthew Gray Gubler x Fem! Reader. And they have a 5 year old kid. They both work together on Criminal minds and play each other’s love interest. One day their babysitter cancels and they have to bring their kid to set. They have a balance taking care of a kid and filming. And can you possibly add that Matthew is filming one of his unauthorize documentary and he includes his kid. I would really love to read this.

Couple: Dad!Matthew Gray Gubler/Fem!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: swearing, Dad!Mgg, mentions of being sick

Word Count: 5,076

Summary: When reader and Matthew’s babysitter cancels on them on a last minute notice, they’re forced to bring their 5-year-old daughter, Tallulah ‘Peanut’, to set. Matthew and Reader have to re-learn to balance filming, on set tomfoolery, and taking care of their daughter. 

A/N: i literally love this request so much, it’s so cute and makes me feel so soft. I really needed to write some cute fluff after everything im writing, especially for a different type of high… so thank you for sending this in. i think we need more dad!mgg fluff too, we stan dad!mgg. So, meet tallulah jane ‘peanut’ gubler, and reader ‘buttercup’ gubler :))) im so soft right now. thanks for all the love and support! check out my masterlist! 

{***}{***}{***}

It was… quiet. Quite possibly too quiet. Especially for a house that has 2 actors and a five-year-old daughter. I was getting the chance to sleep in a little later than normal, and there's no husband or little girl begging for breakfast. Maybe husband took her on a morning jaunt? No, that'd be too ambitious for him, and even for her. Or, maybe he put a movie on and she's actually watching. Or maybe- frick, nevermind. I clearly spoke too soon and had my hopes too high. The pitter-patter of little feet, followed by the louder footsteps of an adult man came running into the bedroom.

"Tallulah," Matthew's voice was soft, like he was whispering but knew it'd be useless. Because once she got up into the bed, I was starting to wake up more.

"Mommy, mommy! Wake up! Wake up!" A little girl's voice shouted as she jumped on the bed. I kept the blanket over my body and groaned as a small body jumped on top of mine.

"5 more minutes," I pretended to whine as I pulled my blanket over my head. I could hear Matthew's laughter as Tallulah jumped into my body. I groaned at the sudden weight on my still tired body. "Okay, okay I'm awake," I tiredly spoke as I sat up. Tallulah fell onto the bed beside me in a fit of laughter.

Matthew was already dressed and what seemed ready for the day. His glasses sitting on his nose, and his hair falling perfectly around his face. A bizarre patterned shirt, that I wouldn't be surprised if Tallulah picked it, hung off his frame, paired with a pair of jeans and his converse. How long had he been awake? 

"I tried telling her you wanted 5 more minutes," Matthew laughed as he looked at me. I looked back at him and smiled, before looking down at our daughter, who was still laughing. Her beautiful brown and curly locks of hair, though somewhat a ratty mess, covered her face just enough to show her toothy smile and brown/hazel eyes. "She just wouldn't listen. She wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast," Matthew smiled as he sat beside me on the edge of the bed.

"Breakfast!?" I exclaimed as I looked down at Tallulah. She looked up at me and smiled before rolling around on her back. "I guess that’s up to you, Peanut," I smiled as I placed a hand on her stomach.

"Pancakes!" She sat up and looked at me. I looked over at Matthew and smiled. The amusement he wore on his face made me feel happy. Of course, no matter what his daughter did, he was amused or happy. I don’t blame him though, she’s basically the mini-me version of him.

"Pancakes!? That sounds like a great idea!" I brushed her hair away from her face, "how about you and daddy get started in those while I take a quick shower and get ready for the day?" I asked with a smile. I glanced back at Matthew, silently telling him to help me out with this. “Maybe make me some chocolate chip pancakes? Oh! Or a few apple cinnamon?” I smiled at him. Matthew laughed at my enthusiasm for pancakes.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me," Matthew stood up and placed his fists in his hips. Tallulah looked between Matthew and me before falling off the bed in a sensible style. 

"Sounds like a plan," she copied Matthew's action and looked up at him with a smile. I smiled and watched as the pair marched out of the room. 

I sighed deeply before lying back again for a minute. I knew the second I left my bed, mommy mode would have to be fully turned on for the morning. Although mommy mode was way more preferable than actor mode, I just get to be around my favorite little girl and it makes me happy. 

Time, unfortunately, was not on my side. It was nearing the time Marianne (Tallulah’s nanny) would be here, and Matthew and I would have to leave for work. Which all meant I had about 15 minutes to shower, get dressed, and actually get ready for the day.

Once I was finished showering and getting dressed, I went to the kitchen where I knew I'd find Matthew and Tallulah. The sweet smell of apple cinnamon pancakes found its to my nose. 

“Those pancakes smell amazing!” I spoke as I entered the kitchen. Matthew was standing beside Tallulah, gently brushing out her knotty hair. “I can't wait to have one,” I looked down at Tallulah, “did you help make them, Tj?”

“Yeeeah!” She exclaimed as she put her fork in her mouth. 

“Did you also help make the mess?” I looked around the counter at the mess that suddenly appeared overnight. Matthew looked down at Tallulah, who was looking up at him with wide eyes. She was obviously whispering something to him, causing Matthew to laugh. 

“That was, uh… That was Rumple Buttercup,” Matthew nodded as he looked back up at me. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “He came up here just as you got into the shower and made the biggest mess? Isn’t that right, Peanut?” Matthew looked back down at her and wink.

“Yeah! It was Rumbellercup.” She looked at me with a cheesy smile. 

“Right,” I faked an amused smile before nodding. I quietly grabbed a sponge and began wiping up the sticky flour mess on the countertop. “Well, next time, Rumple Buttercup should stick around and clean up,” I smiled as I looked over at the two.  

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about the mess,” Matthew winked at me. I rolled my eyes before continuing my cleaning. Well, tried to continue before being stopped by my phone ringing. 

“Phone!” Tallulah shouted as she pointed towards me and my phone. I looked up at her and smiled.

“Looks like it’s Marianne,” I looked at the screen, noticing her name, “Wonder why she isn’t here yet,” I spoke before answering.

“Hey, Marianne! We were just talking about you!” I smiled as I tossed the icky sponge into the sink.

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Gubler,” her voice was low as she spoke. I furrowed my eyebrows and cocked my head, “I’m afraid I have to cancel. I can’t babysit Tallulah today?”

“What do you mean you have to cancel?” I asked, I honestly had my answer the second she sneezed, then coughed, then sneezed again. “You know something, it’s okay,” “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Gubler,” she spoke through a cough. I cringed as I looked over at my husband and five-year-old. I could sense that she was talking about something, and he was doing his best to keep up and understand whatever it was she was saying. 

“It’s okay! It’s okay, really. I hope you feel much better. Take all the time you need,” I insisted as I rested my hand on the counter, “We’ll figure something out. I just hope you feel better,” I frowned as I kept my eyes on the two. 

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Marianne whispered. I bit my lips back and shook my head.

“Get some rest. Call if you need anything,” I replied before hanging up. I placed my phone on the counter before going to grab things for lunch for Tallulah. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Matthew looked up at me as he brushed Tallulah’s hair into two pigtails. He had a certain look of worry on his face as he looked at me. I looked up at him as I made a ham and cheese sandwich. Hopefully, she enjoys a sandwich with all the fruit snacks a five-year-old could consume (which, unfortunately, was a lot), and some actual fruit. I'm sure when on our way home we'll stop somewhere for dinner or late lunch. That's hope it usually works when Tallulah comes to set with us.

“Marianne is sick. Can’t babysit today,” I frowned as I looked between him and Tallulah. Tallulah was too busy eating her pancakes and rambling about Alvin and The Chipmunks (specifically about how Theodore was her favorite, not Simon) to actually care about our conversation. 

“Really,” Matthew looked at me and dropped his shoulders. He puffed his cheeks a little bit before frowning, “No one else?” 

“I mean, I could call Aj and see if her babysitter can watch Little Miss, but that’d be a lot for one lady,” I paused as I looked down at our daughter, “Or we could bring her. You know how much everyone on set loves seeing her,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. Even though it was a lot of work bringing a five-year-old to set, we both loved it. The balance between working and taking care of her was a bit rough, but we always made it work. 

“We could do that, we have a couple of scenes together, I’m sure we could get Kirsten or someone to be with her for that time,” he looked down at his daughter before adjusting her pigtails, “Maybe even convince the writers to give Spencer and Mollie a daughter,” he looked back at me and winked. I shook my head.

“You should finish getting her ready because we have to go soon,” I pointed out. Matthew looked down at Tallulah with a smile before shrugging.

“Alright, let’s go, Peanut!” Matthew spoke as he lifted Tallulah up and stood her up on the table. I looked at the two and smiled.

“You get to come to work with me and daddy today,” I walked over to them and readjusted her crocked pigtails, and carefully pinched her cheeks, “That means you get to see Auntie Kirsten, Auntie Aj, Auntie Pag, and everyone else,” I smiled and watched as Matthew lifted her up on to his hip. 

“Yay!” Tallulah shouted once she was clinging to Matthew’s side. The two of them closely resembled a Koala. She grabbed Matthew’s face, a hand on either side, to get his attention, “Daddy’s work,” she whispered. I smiled, already looking forward to the shenanigans that was about to happen during our day. Whenever we bring Tallulah to set for a visit, almost everyone wants to spend time with her. And she sucks up all the attention. She’s got everyone wrapped around her tiny little finger. 

“Go pick out some cool clothes with daddy while I finish making your lunch. Sounds good?” I looked at her. She smiled and nodded before looking at Matthew. 

“Let’s go get out of your jammies,” Matthew spoke, tugging on her Elsa nightgown. The two walked away and towards her bedroom. I  seriously hope he’ll help her pick out something nice to wear and not let her wear a princess dress. I love it, but not today. {***}{***}{***}

“You gotta be a good girl for mom and I, okay? You can watch us while we work, but you gotta be super quiet,” Matthew held a finger up to his lips, as if he was telling Tallulah to be quiet. She smiled before copying his action. “Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” she enthusiastically nodded once Matthew set her on the ground. I squatted beside her and gave her a few quiet toys and coloring books as Matthew went to talk to one of the assistants/interns nearby. 

“Look, we packed your favorite coloring book,” I smiled as I placed the coloring book on the ground beside her. She grabbed the crayons from me and poured them out. I looked at her for a moment before standing upright.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just have her in the trailer? It’d be safer for, well, everyone. And if we check on her every so often,” I looked at Matthew once he was back beside me. We walked side by side back towards wardrobe and makeup. 

“Nah, it’s fine. One of the interns said they’d watch her. And then we can get one of the makeup artists to watch her. You know how much they love her,” Matthew smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I remembered the day we visited set after Tallulah was born. Other than Kirsten and AJ, the makeup artists were the ones to not leave our side because they loved her so much. I honestly didn’t blame them. “Don’t stress so much about this, Buttercup, this isn’t the first time she’s had to come to set with up. And you know for a fact it won’t be the last time,” he stopped right in front of the door to the makeup studio. “She’ll do a great job,” he smiled before hugging me. 

“I know, I know. She’s just a lot older than she was the last time she came with us. And I know something will happen,” I sighed, pressing my face into his shoulder. Matthew laughed as he squeezed me tightly. 

“And, if she does, we’ll take a break, bring to the trailer, and calm her down. C’mon, you know she’s a great kid,” he looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I laughed as I looked up at him.

“That’s because she’s your kid,” I nodded before stepping away from and entering the makeup studio.

Of course, luck was not really on our side. We were a few hours left of filming, Tallulah had been doing a great job, staying quiet and playing with one of the make up artists. Until she bashed her head into a table, causing her to go into full hysterics. 

“I got it, I’m done for the day anyways,” Aj looked at me from her space on the ground, away fro the raised set, “She’ll be okay. I can make all little girl boo-boos go away,” she smiled before stepping up to me. I looked at her before looking over at Matthew, who was already over soothing our daughter. 

“I owe you big,” I walked up to her, “You know we have stuff in our trailer for her. I think it might be naptime,” I looked at her, feeling the worry in my brow.

“Got it, naptime,” Aj gave me a thumbs up before stepping off the set. I watched as she carefully approached Matthew and Tallulah. Tears were still fresh in her eyes, but she was laughing at whatever it was Matthew was telling her. I could feel a smile tugging on my lips as I watch Aj grasp Tallulah’s hand, leading her away from the studio. 

“She’ll be fine,” Matthew smiled at me before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I hummed before stepping away from him.

“Oh, I know that, I don’t doubt. I’m just tired, I suppose,” I rubbed the underside of my nose, “But, we’re almost done,” I nodded with a smile. I was just happy we were able to get back to work pretty quickly after the temper tantrum.

{***}{***}{***}

“I think we’ve got what we needed for today! That’s a wrap!” The director shouted to everyone on set. I allowed my shoulders to slump as a yawn worked its way through my mouth. Matthew laughed as he looked over at me.

“You definitely needed those extra five minutes,” he spoke as he shrugged off his ‘Spencer Reid’ blazer. I yawned, again, and nodded. 

“Suppose that’s life with a 5-year-old,” I stepped off the set with him and walked beside him towards our trailer, “Do you want to go get that girl in question, or should I?” I raised an eyebrow once we were both in the privacy of our small trailer. 

“You should. I want to do something real quick,” he pecked my lips real quick as he walked towards the backend of the trailer. I looked down at the few toys that were thrown around the floor, before grabbing Tallulah’s backpack and sweater. 

“You want to do something? What would that be?” I asked, throwing the strap of the backpack over my shoulder. A moment later, Matthew stepped back towards me, wearing a Babygirl hat that Shemar got for him, and a purple scarf that he totally stole from me. “You look like a douchebag,” I scoffed as I turned towards the door, “You’re lucky I love you, and that we’re married,” I turned back and looked at him for a moment. 

“I think you’re the lucky one, Buttercup,” Matthew spoke to me as I stepped off the trailer. I laughed and shook my head. “Not everyone can score this,” he spoke as he gestured towards his body. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, are you going to let me go get our kid? Or are you going to pull me into whatever it is you have planned,” I asked with a sly smile on my lips. 

“Should probably go get Tallulah,” he shrugged as he followed beside me. I looked at him and allowed him to kiss me softly. “Good luck,” 

“I’ll need all the luck in the world,” I laughed before peeling away from him. I could hear him talking to someone as I walked away, and I could only imagine it was one of the cameramen. 

Usually Aj took her out of the studio the second the tantrum started, bringing somewhere quiet. Usually, it was our trailer, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were there for a bit, but I knew after naps it was always snack time. So, I went towards the cafeteria.

“Mommy!” A little voice shouted from across the room. My eyes scanned around, looking for my little girl and friend. Aj was sitting at one of the tables with Tallulah on her lap. Tallulah was busy, eating chicken nuggets that Aj must’ve gotten for her. So much better than a ham and cheese sandwich.

“Hey, Peanut!” I exclaimed as I sat across from them at the table. I glanced at Aj and smiled, silently telling her thank you. “Did you have a fun time with Auntie Aj?” I looked back down at Tallulah.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed before shoving a whole chicken nugget in her mouth. I raised my eyebrows and laughed.

“We took a nap, colored, played with some dolls, and then we were hungry,” Aj looked up at me as she listed their activities during the last few hours. I nodded and leaned over the table.

“That sounds like a great time. I wish I could take a nap,” I sighed before stealing one of her nuggets. Tallulah glared at me as I munched on the food. “I wanna see your drawings!” I smiled at her. Tallulah turned and looked up Aj, asking her to show the drawings she made.

“Tada!” she beamed as she showed me her drawings. I looked down at the 4 sheets of paper with a multitude of colors. One of them was easily imaged as a family portrait and I could easily point out Matthew and me, and Tallulah. Another one was just a tornado of colors, with animal stickers placed around them. And the last two pictures were coloring pages we had printed off, a Disney princess and a picture of Alvin and the Chipmunks (again, it’s her favorite movie… And not because her dad is in it).

“These are awesome, Peanut!” I looked back up at her with an excited smile, “I’m sure you had such a great time with Auntie AJ! I can’t wait to hear about it all! What do you say to her?” I looked at Tallulah as I brushed hair away from her face.

“Thank you, Auntie AJ,” Tallulah looked up at Aj with a bright, cheesy smile. Aj returned the smile as she looked at my daughter.

“Of course! I had a wonderful time with you! You be good for mom and dad, okay?” Aj asked before offering a hug. Tallulah squealed before throwing her arms around Aj. I smiled, watching the pair interact.

“Should we go find daddy? I’m sure he’d love to see your drawings!” I asked stood up. Aj helped Tallulah to the ground before standing up herself. Aj handed me Tallulah’s stuffed animal and a few of her other things. “Thank you so much, Aj,” I smiled at her.

“Of course, you know I love watching her,” she returned the smile, “Seriously, if you need help with you, you know I’m always available, even on set,” she hugged me.

“Of course, again thank you so much,” I returned the hug before letting her leave. Tallulah watched as Aj walked away, before looking up at me with a smile, “Let’s find dad,” I smiled before offering her my hand. She grabbed it before walking beside me. I handed her stuffed animal back to her as we left the cafeteria. 

“Are you going to show daddy your pictures?” I looked down at Tallulah. She was holding a small stack of papers in her hand as she skipped beside me. Her stuffed animal was now stuffed under her arm since her hands were too busy holding her drawings and she didn’t want me to hold it. “You did a good job with your family portrait,” I looked at the papers in her hand. She was looking down at that very picture with a big smile on her face. 

“Yeah!” She looked up at me and gushed. I chuckled as she hugged her pictures close to her chest. 

“Do you think he’ll like them?” I looked up and saw Matthew at a bit of a distance, someone standing beside him as he talked. He was moving around a lot, which told me he was up to something.  

“Yeah!” Tallulah exclaimed as she added a little bit of a skip to her step. And that skip in her step told me that she was excited. Well, it was more than the skip in her step. It was also the sweet-tooth, cheek-achingly, adorable smile she wore on her precious little face. 

“Do you think he’ll… Love it?” I looked down at her for a moment. She stopped walking for a second as she looked down at the picture she had drawn. Tallulah was definitely blessed with Matthew’s sense of style when it came to art (and clothing), which was lovely. She’ll be something of an artist when she grows up, I’m sure of it. Especially when her family portrait has three people and two of them have 2 heads and 4 arms, and the other one has a tail. But, that’s okay. Matthew will most definitely love her drawing. I know I do.

“Love it! Love it!” She looked up at me as she jumped. I laughed and shook my head. She looked down at the pictures again before holding them up to me. I raised an eyebrow before taking them from her to hold. 

“Well, I know I love them,” I looked back down at her. As we continued walking, she kept talking about what she got to do with Kirsten and Aj. Her babble was still a little bit incoherent, but I knew what she was saying. God bless Kirsten though. “I’m kinda hungry, do you think daddy will let us get McDonald’s on the way home?” I looked back down at her as she grabbed my hand.

“McDonald’s?” She looked at me with wide eyes. Let me just put that into my child’s mind so she can ask Matthew. Because everyone knows it’s hard to say no to the Gubler child. No one knows better than Matthew. 

Unfortunately, our conversations ended there. Because as we turned the corner, Matthew’s voice could be heard. I looked up and saw him standing beside our trailer. The second Tallulah would hear his voice, she would be off and glued to him, instead of me. What a little daddy’s girl.

“Who the fuck is that?” Matthew half-shouted to the cameraman beside him. Even though we were a good distance away from him, I could still hear the words he was saying. I was grateful that Tallulah couldn’t hear him. We both know she’d repeat any word she knows she’s not allowed to say. And since he was standing beside a cameraman, I knew he was filming one of his Unauthorized Documentaries. “Who the fuck is that,” he pulled the cameraman and pointed him towards Tallulah and I. This man and his swearing around his 5-year-old. I swear. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Tallulah shouted once grew closer to him. She let go of my hand before sprinting away from me and towards Matthew. When she was close enough to him, she jumped into the air and Matthew caught her. “Guess what, Daddy!” She shouted into his ear. Matthew laughed as he looked over at me. 

“What, Peanut?” He asked, swinging her around so she was on his back. Sort of like a monkey with its baby. It was Tallulah’s favorite way to be carried. “You got to hang out with Kirsten and Aj while mommy and I worked, right?” He looked over his shoulder at his daughter. She laughed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

 “Yeah!” she looked over at me as I got closer to them. I shuffled the few pictures before flipping them around to show him. “Auntie Kirsten and Auntie Aj let me color!” Tallulah, again, shouted into his ear. Matthew looked at the pictures in my hands and smiled.

“Woah! Peanut, these are awesome! Are you going to be an artist like dad?” He looked over his shoulder and at Tallulah. I smiled as I shuffled the pictures to show more of them.

“Yeeeah,” she smiled before pressing her face into his shoulder, like she was hiding. I smiled before stepping up to him. Matthew smiled before pecking my lips. 

“Little Miss and I are starving,” I grabbed his hand and swung it beside me.

“Starving?!” Matthew spoke loud so Tallulah could hear him. A little giggle came from her as she readjusted her position, “Well, we can’t have that! Where do you want to eat, Peanut?” 

“McDonalds!” 

“McDonalds?” Matthew looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I smiled and looked down at the ground, “Let’s fucking go then!” Matthew half shouted as he jumped. Tallulah giggled as she hugged her arms tighter around his neck, almost nearly suffocating him. 

“Matthew,” I looked at him with the signature mom glare I adopted from my own mother. He looked over at me as he placed a hand on his daughter’s arms. He knew exactly what the glare was meant for. Swearing in front of our 5-year-old. Of course, we both knew that wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d swear in front of her.

“Daddy said fuck!” Tallulah shouted before laughing. Matthew looked at me with an apologetic look in his eye before swinging Tallulah off his back and on to his hip. I cocked my head as I placed my hands on my hips. “Fuck!” She repeated, shouting the word at Matthew. And, again, this wouldn’t be the last time she repeated a swear word.

“Now, Tallulah, that is a mommy and daddy word. You know you shouldn’t say that. Just because mommy or daddy does, doesn’t mean you can,” he looked at her. She pouted before nodded. Thankfully, she actually understood when to not say swear words, she also understood what “mommy and daddy” words were. “Got it?” Matthew looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She looked up at him and stuck up her thumb.

“Got it!” She smiled before throwing her arms around his neck. Matthew laughed before picking her back up.

“Now, let’s go get some happy meals,” Matthew spoke as he pointed towards the direction of our car. I sighed deeply, walking the opposite direction towards our trailer, knowing they’ll both know we need to stop by there before we leave.

{***}{***}{***}

“She asleep?” I asked, glancing away from my script as Matthew entered the room. He pulled his shirt off as he went towards his closet.

“She’s always insistent on Rumple Buttercup, but almost never makes it to the end,” he laughed as he put his pajamas on. I smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe it’s time you wrote a second one… Give Rumple Buttercup a brother or sister,” I laughed as I rubbed a hand on his back. He looked over his shoulder with a smile before getting comfortable in the bed beside me.

“You know… I’ve been thinking,” Matthew started as he moved closer to me. I looked up from my script and over at him with a raised eyebrow. Something was telling me he wasn’t going to continue talking about a second Rumple Buttercup book… “What if Tallulah had a little brother or sister,” he asked as he looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. I couldn’t help but burst out with laughter. I felt bad for my laughter, mostly because I knew he wanted a second child. But, we were running slim on time with that.

“She is too much of a daddy’s girl to share with anyone, including me, Matthew,” I closed my script as I looked up at him. He looked genuinely hurt with my laughter and comment. “Besides, I thought we were good with the one,” I gestured towards her room.

“But, what if we had another one,” he shrugged. I dropped my shoulders and sighed, but kept a smile on my lips nonetheless. “C’mon, two! That’s a perfect number!” “Two is a perfect number,” I swallowed roughly as I looked down at the bedding in front of me. I couldn’t help but allow the smile on my lips to grow. “And she wouldn’t be alone on family trips,” I mused as I glanced over at him. Matthew was looking at me with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “You don’t think we should talk about this first? I mean, Matthew, you’re almost 40, I’m nearly 35...” I let out a small laugh.

“I think we just talked about it! And to me it sounds like we both want it,” he smiled before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed before moving away from him. 

“Okay, okay, we can try. But not right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe once Marianne is better and we don’t have to take Tallulah to set. Because that was so exhausting,” I ran a hand through his hair and smiled, “Fair?” 

“Fair,” he smiled before kissing me softly, “Love you,”

“I love you too,” 

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[writingsfromstarfleet]

Data - As The World Falls Down

♫ - As The World Falls Down - David Bowie 

For MJ, @okamiredfoxx , I hope you enjoy! ♡

"Hey, Y/N, you like those old 20th century-era films, right?" Geordi had asked you, and you looked up from your station in the engineering bay.

"I do?" you smiled at your friend, knowing he and Argyle were bound to be debating something, as per each day there was always something. Always.

"What would you say then," Argyle began, turning to you with a smile as he continued. "is the best film to come from that era of Earth?"

You sat wide eyed at the two men who waited for your answer. You hadn't thought anybody else had an interest in 1900s/2000s era film, especially given the time frame currently. Still, you chuckled to yourself, a definitive answer that never wavered rolling off your tongue.

"Easy. Labyrinth."

Argyle chuckled. "Labyrinth?" He repeated, almost confused. "Like Pans Labyrinth with the  hand guy?" He placed the backs of his hands against his eyes and motioned Pale Man's actions, leaving you laughing as Geordi swatted his arm.

"No, Y/N means the film about the goblin city and the girl who's brother is stolen by the goblin king, right?" Geordi nodded at you and you smiled back, nodding too.

"That one exactly, Geords."

"Huh," Argyle shrugged and smiled along with the both of you. "I still think it's Interstellar."

The three of you began working once more in a comfortable silence, and unbeknownst to you, a certain android had been listening to your conversation in its entirety.

Data was an enigma, but despite everything, the two of you were close. You'd begun talking to Data through Geordi, usually Data would be there when you had your meet ups in Ten Forward, not that you had minded. You found the man fascinating, he had such impartial views on everything, and he was knowledgeable about most topics, so he made for good conversation. Soon enough, you found yourself in Data's company more and more without the presence of anyone else; be that walks through the ship simply talking, or jaunts on various holodeck programmes, you were just happy to be with him. You hoped, though he didn't feel human emotion, he felt the same in his own rights.

Data watched you leave early for your lunch break, and walked to his friend.

"Geordi, may I inquire about your conversation with Lieutenant Y/N?" Data asked, and Geordi placed his hand on Data's shoulder.

"Of course, go right ahead."

Data asked him about your interest specifically, and what Labyrinth was all about. As Geordi recounted the plot, and all the fine details Data asked for in between, Geordi look quizzically at his friend.

"You planning on a movie night, Data? I would recommend it, but there are also far better films out there than that, in my humble opinion."

As Geordi laughed to himself, Data simply nodded.

"Thank you, Geordi."

You hadn't seen Data the next day, and when you had, it had been fleeting in the hall; usually your work meant you'd run into him almost hourly. You would be lying if you said it hadn't made you a little sad, but still, you carried on with your day, assuming that Captain Picard had given him more tasks than usual. What you didn't know in that moment, however, was how wrong you were.

Sighing, you entered your quarters and breathed out; another day was over and you could finally relax. You'd been enjoying your shift and the company was great, that much wasn't being disputed, but you found yourself simply longing for a nap. Exhausted, you asked the computer to dim the lights and made your way to the bed.

Upon entering your room, however, your eyes wandered to the package on your bed; a silver box tied neatly with a light blue bow. Attached was a note, seemingly handwritten in copperplate text.

'For tonight, 20:00 hours. Holodeck three. - Commander Data.'

Twiddling the note in your hands for a couple of seconds, you smiled to yourself. Everything that man did made you love him one bit more, though each and every time you would state that was impossible. Untying the bow delicately, it fell off and you opened the lid to reveal a mass of material, shimmering even under the dim light. Confused, you pulled it out of the box to reveal it was in fact a dress. As you lifted it, it unravelled fully and you could see the intricacies of the pleating combined with the embroidery, instantly recognisable to you; it was Sarah's dress from Labyrinth. A breath of shock left you as you stared at the dress in disbelief. The box also held her hairpiece, replicated with an accuracy you hadn't thought possible. Sleep was now the last thing on your mind.

8pm had rolled around both far too quickly and not quick enough for you. The halls were fairly empty as you stepped out of your quarters. Nerves overtook you as you approached the holodecks, but you couldn't think why. It was just another holo-adventure with Data, you'd done those before. The uncertainty of what he had planned was what got to you, though you knew it was more excited nerves than bad ones. Finally reaching the door, it opened for you and you gasped.

The light hit your eyes and the sounds of soft music came from inside. You stepped in, lifting the bottom of your skirt as you did so. Looking round, your eyes were met with people dancing everywhere. Tables and chairs littered the outside of the dancefloor, adorned with different foods and embellishments. Your eyes couldn't scan quick enough, every little detail was beyond accurate and you couldn't quite believe you were stood in your favourite film scene of all time.

Looking around, you failed to see Data, far too many people were spinning by you as you walked. A few offered their hands to dance but you declined politely, still searching for the android. Eventually, your eyes landed on him, and he approached you slowly, a mask covering his face. The closer he got to you, he reached his hand out, the music still playing softly around you. Taking his hand, Data lowered his mask and you saw his face; it was beautiful at the best of times but in the light of the ballroom he looked all the more handsome.

"Hello there," you spoke softly, unable to contain your happiness. Data nodded at you.

"Good evening, I am glad you showed up." His voice was low, but you heard him well despite the noise and giggled.

"As though I could say no."

Data began to sway you to the music, and you placed your hand on his shoulder and his free one laid on your waist. A gentleman, it never faltered either. As the two of you danced, Data leaned in closer to you and began to hum along, clearly having memorised the film beforehand. You instinctively curled closer to his chest, until his chin rested atop your head and you swayed in comfortable silence. The android slowly began to sing the lyrics, quietly, but definitely there.

"I'll place the sky, within your eyes..." Data trailed off as you lifted your head to look at him, astounded more than anything that the android had sung. Not only that, but he had a lovely singing voice, too.

"There's such a fooled heart, beating so fast; in search of new dreams, a love that will last.."

"I'll place the moon, within your heart." You cut him off with your own sing along, and you saw a faint hint of a smile present on his face.

Data spun you round, your skirt flowing around you seconds later, and danced just as you'd expect, with precision and correctness. The same smile never left your face as the dance continued, the two of you working around the others perfectly, as though you had done this a thousand times before. That was what you loved about him the most, that no matter what was happening or what you were doing, Data made everything comfortable. Never once had anything felt foreign, and you had just clicked with him instantly. He felt homely, and made you feel safe whenever he was around, and times like this made you realise why you'd fallen for him in the first place.

"Y/N, may I have your attention for a second?" He asked, pulling you out of your slight daydream as you stepped with each other calmly once more.

"As ever, Data, of course."

"I have been meaning to tell you this for a while now, though I did not know how best to approach such a subject. Upon consulting Geordi, I believe this was the best way to do it," Data gestured to the program, a more serious tone to his voice. He continued. "I recalled you mentioning that Jim Henson's work was among your favourites from the 20th century, in particular Labyrinth. I wished for this to be perfect for you, because that is what I believe you deserve."

"Data?" you questioned softly, looking the android in the eye as he carried on his speech.

"Since we began to talk more often, I realised that we got along very well, and you were very willing to listen to me talk; I cannot recall one time you have ever cut me off or told me to stop talking, for which I thank you. But, I have come to realise it is more than that. Though I do not have emotions, what I feel for you I know is true, and it most certainly is there. I believe, in my own way, I have come to care for you a great deal, and in human terms, I am sure that it is love. I love you, Y/N."

Your eyes were brimmed with tears, nothing but adoration in your eyes for the man stood before you. You stood shocked at his declaration, smiling nonetheless. Letting go of his hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. On your prompt, Data's arms wound themselves around your waist, keeping you against him as you spoke against his ear.

"And here I was, thinking this was purely one sided." You chuckled, and he pulled you back to look at you. No matter the time of day he found you beautiful, and right now Data couldn't deny to himself that such a fact was still true.

"Does that mean you also feel the same? That you.." For the first time ever, you cut him off, unable to contain the happy feelings you had.

"I do, I love you, Data."

On instinct, the android leant in and captured your lips with his own, and you took his face in your hands. The kiss was bliss, the sounds around you adding to the atmosphere, and this time neither of you could keep the small smiles off your faces. Pulling back, Data kept you held close to him, dancing with you once more.

"But I'll be there for you," he sang once more, and you rested your head against his chest and joined in.

"As the world falls down."

[starlling-writes]

Copper & Amethyst

Caleb has grown old, and his wish is to spend his last years separated from Essek. He doesn’t want to sever all ties; he still cherishes Essek. But even with Caleb still in his life, the slow loss of his dear friend and first love claws at Essek, driving him to learn a new spell.

Rating: PG Contains: Hurt/Comfort; Themes of loss; Lifespan angst; Minor swearing; Drugging (basically just secretly giving someone NyQuil/ZzzQuil); Brief alcohol use Words: 3100

Writing Masterlist

— — —

A/N:

I choose to believe that elves can sleep, they just don’t need to

Dragon!Yussa

Schatzi = little treasure

Vogelchen = little bird

Kätzchen = kitten/ little cat

Zauberperle = magic pearl [*Perle (pearl) is typically a term of endearment said towards femme individuals. However, given these wizards' habits of using pearls as components, I thought it'd be cute & fitting to use here]

— — —

“I think it’s time,” Caleb gently spoke as he closed his book for the evening.

Essek’s attention switched to him. A tightness started to grow in his chest. He understood. This was one of the inevitabilities that he never let himself fully think about. Caleb meant so much to him; he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Making the effort to keep his voice from betraying him, he said, “You know you don’t have to. Your aging does not diminish you.”

Caleb curtly hums, neither a non-verbal agreement nor a dry laugh. The two had danced around this discussion enough before to know he was stubborn on this. Caleb reached into his component pouch. Retrieved two silk cocoons. He propped his elbow on their shared armrest of the tête-à-tête sofa, offering out his hand and the cocoons, and said, “One last go?”

“Of course.” Essek took one of the cocoons. He carefully slid the sleeping cat from his lap to the seat as he stood up. each other, they each cast the familiar spell and turned themselves into cats.

Cat-leb’s tail twitched with joy. His polymorphed body was far more energetic and agile than his usual one. He took off galloping. Es-Katze followed after, though with less spring in his step. The two wandered through the labyrinthine tunnels of Caleb’s tower. It wasn’t long until Cat-leb turned their jaunt into a game of tag. They dodged each other, jumping over and skittering past both the fey, cat servants and their regular, pet cats. When their hour was nearly up, they headed to the top of the tower. There, the two of them curled up under a sea of stars. Even after the spells had faded, they stayed cuddled together in comfortable silence.

But the moment had to end.

Caleb sat up and looked down at his partner. Essek reached up to brush some errant strands of hair from Caleb’s face. He’d miss gazing into those starry-blue eyes like this. “One more day?”

The smile Caleb gave him was warm yet doleful. This wasn’t the first time he planned on leaving; but he was resolved to stop dragging this out longer. “Not this time.” Essek’s hand fell away from his face briefly as he sat up and turned to face Caleb. He leaned in, cupping Caleb’s face in both his hands, and pressed his forehead to his. “Vogelchen,” Caleb soothed. He placed a hand on Essek’s. Traced over the simple ring he wore.

“Kätzchen,” Essek responded. He intertwined his fingers with Caleb’s and pulled a few inches away. Words hesitated at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to find the right words, the right actions, to achieve what he wanted—like crafting a new spell. But as painful as it was to say goodbye, it’d be more painful to force chains onto the man who helped pull him from the corruption he’d fallen into all those years ago. Holding back all the words and feelings that might betray his partner’s desires, Essek simply leaned forward and kissed him.

He’d steal every moment he could with Caleb.

They retired to bed. Essek, of course, didn’t sleep. Didn’t trance. He watched Caleb sleep, stoked his hair occasionally, held his hand and traced his ring. He was fine with being a bit exhausted tomorrow. He doubted rest would even come to him if he tried. The emptiness building within him was harrowing. A staticky numbness was beginning to bite from its depths.

His body started to betray him. His eyelids grew heavy; his mind drifted and lost increasing spans of time; his limbs were heavy, like he was trapped under a blanket with all their cats piled on top of him. Caleb had drugged his tea. Did he know Essek would refuse to get any rest on their last night together? Essek squeezed Caleb’s hand and let a few tears escape as he succumbed to the soporific.

When Essek startled awake, he was alone in bed. There were only a couple warm spots from where cats had been. He didn’t need to check the tower to know Caleb had already left. He had the instinct to send him a message, or maybe try to scry on him. But he hesitated…

Caleb wanted distance. It wouldn’t be right to so quickly invade his space.

He pushed his desires away. He got out of bed and focused on doing things. Making breakfast. Feeding the cats. Gathering some effects. Focusing on tasks helped keep himself stable. For now. He assumed these feelings he was avoiding would worsen to an unavoidable level at some point.

A quick teleport brought him home to Rosohna. Or more so, to his house. Nothing about it felt like a home. He began working on his usual magic studies. The familiar routine was a small comfort. But the comfort was fleeting. It wasn’t long until he’d get to a part in his research that he’d start talking about aloud only to cut himself off when he remembered Caleb wasn’t around to listen—he’d have to get used to that again. The rest of his work felt hollow.

The Mighty Nein had sent him on a whirlwind when they first appeared in his life. He hadn’t expected to grow fond of them. Of the human wizard with a scarred past. But now he here was, decades later, facing the slow loss of the fools that forced their way into his life and helped show him the path to a second chance.

Essek shut his notebook. He went and got himself a glass of wine. He plopped on the couch in his front room, took one sip of wine, then set the glass down and curled up with his arms around himself. He felt bombarded. And he was uncertain how to handle these emotions.

He knew this was going to happen. He knew he’d outlive the few people he cared for—what with their shorter lifespans and habits towards danger. Life had been generous towards them and kept tragedy away. Yet that did not make the pain any easier to deal with; and he’d have a long time to carry this weight… Even if they stayed romantically separated, Essek wished he could give more years to Caleb. Just one more decade. Just a bit more time together.

Perhaps he could craft a spell to do just that.

Not wanting to sit and wallow further, Essek made himself get up. He went over to the shelf where he kept his spellbook. With it in hand, he returned to the couch and started flipping through it. So many spells he had learned. A handful he had crafted—both by himself and with Caleb. He turned to the page with the first spell he helped Caleb craft: Widogast’s Transmogrification. Too bad it only changed the form of a person and didn’t grant them any benefits from their turned form. But that got him thinking…

There wasat least one spell that could grant him what he sought. Or, partly—what he knew of the spell, there was some ambiguity he might need to adjust for. It was of higher magic than his current casting abilities, but he could get there. The real question was: would Caleb willingly undergo the spell? Thinking about his fellow wizard and his stubbornness, he had a strong feeling the answer would be no. But he couldn’t entirely rule out a possible yes. Caleb was a wildcard at times and surprised Essek with decisions he’d make. Maybe he’d accept if Essek already learned the spell.

He began planning a visit to the one person—that wasn’t Caleb—he could think of to help him learn it.

Caleb sat by the salon fireplace reading a book, with only a sleeping cat in his lap as company, since, yet again, Essek was busy elsewhere. He’d been busy a lot more lately. Caleb asked once what his friend was up to but he never got a complete answer. Working on another spell, was as much as he got. He offered to help, but Essek politely refused. That was fine. If he wanted to figure the puzzle out on his own, Caleb would happily sit aside.

But as the days Essek canceled their plans continued to add up, Caleb couldn’t gently overlook his absence. At times, he’d wonder if Essek was avoiding him to deal with his grief. He wondered if he already shut Caleb from his heart and was reverting to the time when he was more closed off from even friendly affection—

But then those thoughts would be assuaged by the glint still in Essek’s eyes the chance times they did get together. Caleb didn’t press for answers. He knew they’d come in time.

“There’s something I want to discuss,” Essek finally managed to bring up, some few months later.

Caleb looked at him. Reading Essek’s body language, he set his book down and gave him his undivided attention. “Alright.”

Essek cleared the table between them, then pulled out his component pouch. First, he pulled out some incense cones and set them on the table. Then he pulled out a little rock. No—not a rock. A piece of resin. Judging by the color and the assumed relation to the incense, it was likely gum arabic. Third, he placed down a small glass bottle with a silvery liquid in it. Mercury. Lastly, a small hourglass filled with white, sparkly sand; on the top, a magic circle was carved with runes they often used in chronurgy.

Caleb didn’t recognize the spell they were for. “What is this?”

“A modified version of True Polymorph.”

“Essek…” Caleb looked between the components and Essek. So this is what he had been up to all this time.

“An elf. Loxodon. Genasi. Even a dragon. Once the spell sets, you’ll gain the lifespan of your new form.”

Caleb tried and stopped short of a response a couple times. He didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. Hell, he barely knew what he was feeling. In one way, it touched him that Essek would take so much time to learn and customize a spell just for his sake. But like with the opportunity to cheat time with that Aeorian relic, this felt like something he shouldn’t touch, no matter how appealing it seemed.

As Caleb continued to fail to respond, Essek knew he had his answer. His gut tightened as he held his composure. He returned the components to his pouch. He replaced the notes and research equipment he had cleared away and continued on their research, ignoring Caleb’s unrelenting stare, as if he had never interrupted them.

To say Caleb was concerned was an understatement.

Essek never brought the spell up again. He refused to talk about it anytime Caleb dared to even skirt the subject. Besides that, everything was fine. Normal. Essek was around more, which was nice. But how he so quickly acted like he never proposed his modified True Polymorph spell, had never even thought of it, weighed on Caleb. It left a sinking ball of frozen iron in his gut to think he might be so thoroughly expunged from Essek’s life once gone.

Caleb began spending more time just sitting with all the cats and his thoughts. It was his turn to pull away. But unlike his old partner, Caleb wasn’t secretly crafting a spell for him. That spell… it was the first time Essek expressed any sort of unease over Caleb’s caducity. Death was something Caleb had always been content with meeting. In all his musings about time manipulation, he had never contemplated extending his own life, only tricking time to give his parents a second chance. Though, there had never been much of a reason to consider it.

Now he had Essek.

Should he reconsider on his behalf? Caleb began giving it some thought. With the lifespans of the races Essek mentioned—what would he do with all that time? He already lived such a full life. To take more… it was challenging to feel like he deserved to take any more than had.

He decided to seek some counsel.

Stealing an afternoon, Caleb teleported to the coast to meet Yussa for lunch. It was no surprise that Yussa already had some knowledge of the situation. Giving it a quick thought, this was where Essek must have been sneaking off to in order to learn and craft that spell. This made things easier. Caleb didn’t have to explain and just dove in.

“Would you jump at the chance to live upwards of eight time longer?” Caleb asked.

Yussa shrugged and sipped his drink. “Why not?”

“It’s so much time to take… Why live that long?”

He raised an eyebrow at Caleb as he withheld a sigh. “I repeat—why not?” Caleb didn’t have a response. “It might be different for me, since I already have so much more time than you, but this is such a rare opportunity. Why refuse it?”

“I don’t need to live hundreds of years.”

“You don’t need to cast magic, yet you do. You don’t need to care for so many cats, yet you do.”

Caleb snickered. “Those aren’t quite comparable.”

“You take in strays, thus adding years onto their lives. You claim what isn’t yours by birth and pull the arcane strings to you will. Claiming more years of life is simply another thread to pluck. You’re not seeking nor gaining immortality. And you still might not live long into the added years. What malfeasance would it be to accept?”

He sat with Yussa’s words. Mulled it over. Was it really okay as long as he wasn’t fully slighting the natural cycle? Didn’t have malicious motives? He could be an elf, just like Essek. Gods knew he didn’t need all the power that’d come with turning into a dragon. “Was it your idea or his to suggest turning me into a dragon?”

“It was more so I pointed out his deliberate aversion to suggesting it.” His expression shifted as he thought back on it. “You would’ve enjoyed seeing how flustered he became when I brought it up.”

“Sounds like you want me to do it,” Caleb accused. “I’m surprised you’re even okay with the idea of someone True Polymorphing to become a dragon.”

Yussa hummed, letting his dragon side peak out in a rumbly undertone. “One perk of the spell is that the caster needs to have seen the morphed form in person. Not many people get to see a dragon in their true form and live. The ones who do, and who have the magical prowess to even attempt such a spell, either know better than to indulge in such wanton hubris, or they have felled the dragon making the situation… an exchange, of sorts.”

“I wouldn’t be an exchange,” Caleb countered.

“But you also wouldn’t be hubristic.”

“I would be if I turned Essek into a dragon as well.”

“Elves live nearly as long as us; there’s no need to morph him.”

“So you’re saying I can’t turn Essek into a dragon?” Caleb teased. Yussa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Caleb chuckled. His gaze unfocused as he started to contemplate. “Dragon, huh?... What would I even do with all that time?”

“Whatever you’d like,” Yussa offered. “Whatever you’re already doing.”

“Teaching. Collecting cats and knowledge, I guess,” he said to himself. He lightly laughed again. “A hoard of cats and knowledge.”

Yussa watched him closely as he continued to ruminate. He watched various emotions subtly dance in Caleb’s expression. He finished off his drink and reclined back into his seat. “Looks like our talk has helped you sort things out,” he mused.

Caleb met his sharp gaze and gave him a warm smile. “Yes. So it has.”

Some nights later, Essek and Caleb were together again, reading over some new tomes on their tête-à-tête sofa. As the hour drew late, Essek got ready to leave. He was not prepared for when Caleb called him, “Zauberperle.”

His hands paused as he was putting his book in his bag. His heart skipped into a canter. “Caleb?” He sat up straight and looked at him; but nothing in Caleb’s expression betrayed his intentions behind pulling out the pet-name again. His eyes trained on Caleb as he left the room, then returned a moment later with a small box. He balanced it on the shared armrest—the box was small enough. Essek eyed it curiously for a half second before returning his attention to Caleb. “What is this?”

“Do you have a preference?”

Essek’s brows knitted together. “Of what?”

“Elf or dragon?” Caleb answered. However, that didn’t answer things for Essek; it just deepened his confusion and curiosity. Caleb chuckled, brushing off Essek’s growing anxiety. “I guess we can try a few times and see which one fits better.”

Exasperated from the lack of answers, Essek opened the box, hoping it’d give some clarity.

And it did.

Now his heart thundered for a different reason. “You…”

“Changed my mind—yes.”

For a moment, it didn’t feel real to Essek. Even with the components to the spell he crafted sitting right there, in the box before him, it felt like a dream. He took a sharp breath to steel himself before asking, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured in this.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this now?” he sassed.

Essek gave him the look he reserved for when he scolded Caleb, often accompanied by the line young man. Caleb’s smile grew warmer—he still enjoyed being just enough of a little shit to coax that look from Essek. Caleb took Essek’s hands in his, the mischief in his smile shifting back to love. “I choose to be selfish, and arrogate as many more years of your life to be by my side as you’ll give me in return.”

“They’re all yours to take, Schatzi.” Essek pressed his forehead to Caleb’s and squeezed his hands. He pulled back a moment, stared into Caleb’s soft eyes, then stole a kiss. A quiet moment passed between them. “So does this mean we’re back together again as well?”

Without missing a beat, Caleb said, “I don’t know. I’ve been enjoying having more room in bed lately.”

“Says the one who already takes up most of the bed, you cat!” Essek admonished. Caleb laughed and kissed him again. Essek glowered, but quickly relented as Caleb continued to pepper him with kisses.

They both looked forward to the much fuller future they shared.

Together, as dragon wizards.

— — —

Writing Masterlist

> This fic is the result of my partner talking about a random dnd idea and me being like, “Omg... But what if Shadowgast?” :3c I hope you enjoyed.

[talldecafcappuccino]

@pwfishing said something about Ted’s contract and then this happened (read on ao3)

meet me in the middle

“Knock knock.”

Rebecca looks up to see Ted standing at the entrance of her office, hand raised against the doorframe.

“Is now still good?”

“Of course,” She gestures to the chair across from her. “Take a seat.”

While Ted gets situated, she pulls out a folder with small brightly colored flags sticking out along one side.

“Now, Coach Lasso,” she starts, opening the front flap. “You signed a two-year contract with the club, with you and Beard coming in mid-season.”

“Yes, ma’am. I remember.”

“And now that you and the team have finished your second season together, it’s time to begin talks for contract renewal,” she flips through the papers looking for the terms section.

“Great. Where do I sign.”

She pauses mid-flip. “You can’t just sign the same contract.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not how it’s done,” she says pointedly, as if he hasn’t already done this a million times in his career.

“Well, I trust my original contract was perfectly fair, Boss. So if it’s all the same to you,” Ted reaches for her pen cup.

She sighs. This is not how she planned for this conversation to go, but perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised.

“Can you at least try to work with me here? Let’s start with base salary. Give me a number.” She gives him her best, serious-business stare, but he's distracted, picking through the cup for his favorite pen. The one with a small greyhound floating through the liquid-filled chamber.

“Four.”

“Something a bit higher, please.”

“Look, I’m happy with the contract I signed,” he gives a little ‘a-ha’ when he finds the pen, twisting it open. “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. That’s my motto”

“Coach Lasso. The team’s been promoted. It would be irresponsible of me to not reward that with some sort of raise.”

He smiles a little at that and she thinks about what she just said. Her cheeks are suddenly quite warm, but she will not be distracted.

“Let me show you something.” She turns the folder toward him and points to a line halfway down the page. “This is your current salary.”

Ted leans over, reads the paper and nods his head. So far so good.

“And this,” she pulls out a piece of paper from a second folder. “This is where the rest of the premier league managers sit.”

She waits for his eyes to bug out. Some of the numbers are admittedly exorbitant, but she’s trying to make a point.

However Ted just nods again and sits back in his chair, smiling.

“And is that what you were planning to give me?”

“Well yes, I was trying to,” she considers him for a moment. “I must say, this is an effective strategy for getting me to show my cards. Now can we move on to the rest of the terms?”

But Ted isn’t finished.

“Boss, do you know how much a mid-level, college American football coach makes?” he asks, shaking his head and smiling. “Trust me, being here is a promotion and a raise all in one. I’m very happy with my current salary.”

Rebecca can’t believe she’s having this conversation. It’s one of the more surreal moments in her career.

“Ted. Why are you trying to talk me out of paying you more? Paying what you deserve?” The words come out harsher than she means them. “This is standard business and, frankly, you are leaving money on the table.”

“How about this,” he puts one elbow on her desk and leans forward to tap the contract with the tip of his pen. “Why don’t you add a line item for one new pair of sneakers a season and a post-game beer with the boss after every home match.”

She sighs. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“The club brought in more money this season than the last two combined.” She believed in Ted and the team, but even she was blown away by the end-of-season windfall. Ted attributed it to the addition of hot dogs to the stadium menu.

“Well people do love a Cinderella story.”

“Yes, but at the end Cinderella gets to be very, very wealthy. At least take the car service?”

“Hm, that’s not really my style. But the glass slipper. . .” He taps the paper until Rebecca begrudgingly writes, one new pair of sneakers per a season.

They go back and forth another ten minutes before Rebecca decides she’s entertained Ted long enough.

“I’m exhausted,” she sighs, picking up her pen. “I’m giving you the £5 million.” She goes to write in the number when Ted’s hand stops hers. It’s embarrassing how hard it is to focus with the warmth and weight of his palm against her skin.

“Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. And I get it, really. But I have an idea.”

Rebecca considers the man sitting across from her, eyes earnest, asking her to trust him. He hasn’t led her astray yet.

“I’m listening . . .”

In the end, he agrees to a 1% raise, a fraction of what she originally proposed. Which is how the team and staff ends up with a surprise end of season bonus and 0.01% shares in the club. The shares are more symbolic than anything.

What’s left will go back into operations, new weights in the locker room, and extra sessions with the PT. They’ll get a new TV for the bus and a slush fund for team birthdays.

She has to admit it’s a good compromise. Even if it leaves Ted woefully undervalued.

”Are we done here?” Rebecca asks, considering the page of handwritten terms.

“Yeah, Boss. I think so.”

Rebecca sinks into her chair, blows a piece of loose hair away from her face. She raises her brows at Ted who is looking very pleased with himself.

“Dear, you could have warned me you weren’t planning on negotiating.”

“Sorry Sweetheart, I think it’s important we maintain personal and professional boundaries.”

She hums, acknowledging her own words being used against her.

“Besides, that was kind of fun, wasn’t it?” His voice is low and gravely, a little dangerous.

She swivels in her chair, fighting a smile.

“I’m not sure you fully understand the point of those boundaries.”

He laughs and Rebecca's heart clenches with fondness.

He stands up, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Well I guess I’ll see you at home. I gotta last-minute strategy meeting with Beard and Nate.”

“Sounds good.”

He looks at her like the cat who caught the canary.

“You gonna watch me walk away?”

She sighs, but nods her head.

“Yes, Ted. Yes I am.”

He grins and taps her desk before turning to leave with a wink. “I’ll add a little jaunt to it for ya.”

He was incorrigible, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

A few moments later her phone rings. It’s Ted.

“Hey, Sweetheart, guess what?

“What?”

“I got a raise today. Boss was a real tough cookie, but I think I held my own.”

She rolls her eyes, chuckling softly.

“Congratulations. We should celebrate.”

“Order in?”

She can already see them sitting on the couch with a shared blanket, surrounded by takeaway containers as he recounts their conversation play-by-play until she finds an effective way of keeping him quiet.

“Sounds like a deal.”

[kerwritesthings]

Subway Surfing

Summary: When a literal run in changes the course of a day, let alone of a life…

Word Count: little bit over 2.2k

Warning: adorable, fluff and funny

Author Notes: A bit of a birthday surprise for @fallinallincurls​ - Happy, happy birthday Bre! Big birthday deserves nothing more than the start of a new verse for the hockey boy I forced at you last year. Umm sorry not sorry.

Things have been a lot of not ok around here for a good clip, I’ve been really not ok. It’s been hard. Writing hasn’t come, life has just kept throwing me down and down. Trying to fight the way back up, not easy but I’m trying. This was a nice way to try to get back some of that light. I had been poking at this for a beat, the idea gnawing at me with some pieces written, notes scribbled around, but birthday sparkle helped get it over the finish line. Part two already has some bones, as does part three - but please to bear with me if you will.

You hate that it’s a Saturday and you’re trekking your way into the office. It’s finally truly fall in the city and it’s a gorgeous day. The last thing you want is to be stuck at your desk behind a computer screen. You want a hot spiked apple cider, a book, a good playlist and your plaid blanket on the grass in Central Park.

It looks like the rest of the city is awake early on this day for the same reason. The subway, which normally is slightly more bearable at this time on a weekend, is the furthest thing from that. It’s packed with people including the grimy, sweat-ladened guy in the chopped-up joggers and crocs who keeps trying to “accidentally” bump and grab you every chance he gets.

The next stop, you try to move but too many people are coming on and off as the doors only quickly open and shut. You just end up jostling as the car jolts in its start. You can’t fall forward. It would land you right into the situation you’re trying to flee. Instead, you try to lean back but you slip. Fully prepared to wipe out, a hand comes gently to steady your elbow while another holds you at your shoulder.

You hear a mish mosh of “careful there” and “are you ok” crossing together as you get back steady on your feet.

“Thanks for saving me for either face planting or landing in that sweaty creep’s grasp,” you say, sliding your bag back securely on your shoulder before turning.

You know those faces. You’ve seen them on billboards and most definitely on TV. Shit, shit and shit. Of course, the two star, absolutely adorable bestie forwards from the New York Islanders have come to your rescue. This would be your luck. At least you pulled yourself somewhat together for this Saturday jaunt to the office. You keep a straight face, smiling normally and not letting anything on.

“Couldn’t let you risk that. He’s been a bit of an ass since he got into the car. We said if he were still acting a fool at next stop, we would jump in. Plotted a rescue mission and everything,” the one explains, hand running through his hair.

“His mission was to cross his arms and give him the eye,” the other mocks, shoving at his friend’s shoulder. “I mean I guess he can look threatening, like a puppy maybe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. These two are exactly as they’ve seemed in interviews. Mathew and Anthony really are as thick as thieves.

“That sarcastic asshole is Anthony and I’m Mat. We’ll stay close until he leaves, or you need to,” he remarks.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s the subway. That happening unfortunately is just another day that ends in y, you know?” you explain. “I also don’t want to take up more of your time or ruin any of your plans.”

“You deal with that? Often?” Anthony asks, eyes a little wide.

“Welcome to New York,” you shrug. “Not every day thankfully. But it’s often enough.”

“I hope you know, that wasn’t, and we weren’t...” Mat tries to stumble through.

“No, no, no. Totally. I didn’t get that whatsoever,” you respond. “Not that from either of you guys. Promise. It’s sweet to know there are still gentlemen out in this world.”

They both get a little bashful smile across their pretty faces.

“Glad to help,” they practically say in unison which causes you to bark out a laugh.

Time to shoot your shot, you think to yourself. Worse case, it’s a moment you get to have for a fun bar story.

“I think we need to become friends, boys,” you start. “Or at the very least, I owe you a drink for saving me.”

“Yes,” Anthony jumps in, nodding his head with a wide grin. “You should come to brunch with us.”

“If I didn’t have to get to the office I would,” you reply. “Unfortunately, it’s stuff I need done before a Monday morning meeting.”

“Office work on a Saturday? That’s no fun. Play hooky! We can promise a bottomless brunch,” he teases.

“Maybe after though?” Mat chimes in with a soft smile. “Get what you need to done, give you something to look forward to after?”

“I don’t want to ruin whatever plans you’ve had for the day,” you begin before the boys both shake their heads.

“It’s just brunch and shopping to try to get this one to up his style game,” Mat chides while Anthony rolls his eyes.

You bite your lip fighting back yet another giggle. These two, at the very least, would truly make some good friends. You dig around in your tote, finally snatching your card holder.

“Not sure how long I’ll be stuck. I’m hoping only a couple hours. But. If you’re serious. Text or call me,” you say, handing one off to each of them.

They both nod, each pocketing your card as the subway comes to a halt.

“Oh shit, this stop is mine. Thanks again for the soft hands and clutch assist guys,” you wink, dashing away quickly before the doors close.

“What is my life,” you mutter, the boys waiving as the train pulls away. “I need to get to the office.”

“Ok, I think that’s the first time we’ve ever had someone realize who we are in public, without a whole big scene or making a blatant ass grab type pass. We’re keeping her. Plus, you like her,” Anthony teases, shoving at Mat’s shoulder as they hit the sidewalk coming up from the subway.

“I could say the same thing to you Tito,” he snarks back, shoving in return. “You were batting the eyes. I’m not blind.”

“She seems cool and yeah she’s pretty, but I’m not jaw drop like you were when you saw her,” he chirps back. “I was trying to get a rise out of you dude. And it worked, you actually stepped up the game. And now you have her info. Don’t make me text her too. Cause I will.”

You’re just about to settle into your email with a cup of what your office likes to consider coffee when your phone starts buzzing about in quick succession.

“Looks like this is a thing,” you mumble to yourself, lips quirking up into a half smile as you formulate a reply.

“You knew?” Anthony grins over his beer. “From the start?”

You nod, sipping at your cider. You pushed through your work to be able to meet the two downtown at this tiny spot in NoLiTa that was tucked away from the crazy of the neighborhoods it was snug between. It wasn’t as sleek as you thought they’d choose; it was something much more comfortable and lower key.

“Really?” Mat questions.

“Yep. One of you not with the other? I would have had to do double take. I would have noticed, but probably would have questioned. However, the two peas in a pod together? That was a no brainer,” you explain, fighting back a bit of a giggle.

“You didn’t say anything,” Mat replies.

“How many times does that happen and it turn into a thing or a bit of a scene?” you circle the bottom of the cider bottle around on the tabletop. “There was also no point to, either. You were just trying to enjoy the day and you were being super kind keeping me from wiping out. I get it’s New York, so it’s a less likely thing but it still happens.  So, if I could keep it from another one of those moments...”

“Told you Barzy, we’re keeping her,” Anthony taps his beer against yours. “Welcome to the crazy, Evangeline.”

You can’t help but tinge a little pink.

“Well then. If that’s the case, my friends call me Evie,” you smile.

“Evie,” Mat lets the name roll around his tongue.

A couple rounds later, of both beers and darts, you realize how tight the two are and more so, how easily you could become entangled in friendship with them. And you do. Texts and memes and random photos fly back and forth, you all hang when all your schedules align. You’re also fostering relationships with each of them separately too; sharing recipes of things you want to try to bake and longing about the places you miss in Quebec with Anthony while Mat was trying to teach you more about basketball (with little luck) and in turn you trying to expand what he calls music and what actually is music. You also share some of your favorite places in the city that the two really didn’t know about. It was easy with them, together and individually but you were getting a bit more of a tug, a bit of a warmer burn with Mat.

A Saturday morning a few weeks after the afternoon drinking funtivities, you wake up to a few texts, photos really, from the group chat with the boys. First is a pair of tickets and passes to their game that night. Second is two jerseys: a blue Barzal and a white Beauvillier. The third, a text from Mat.

Choose carefully…

We’re also not taking no for an answer. You’re coming. Game and drinks after.

“Oh shit,” you exhale, quickly jumping to your closet.

“Beth?” you call out from your room, tossing through your clothes looking for two specific items. “Please tell me you don’t have plans tonight.”

“Hot date with a bottle of pinot noir and trash tv, why?” she pokes her head into your room.

“Good. You do now. You’re coming with me to the Islanders game tonight,” you mutter, flipping through more hangars.

“Wait excuse me?” she flops down, cross-legged on the end of your bed.

“So, I may have left a tiny detail out from when I told you about the two cute guys who saved me on the subway,” you explain.

“Ok and?” Beth prompts you to continue.

“They’re Islanders…” you trail off.

“What?” she screams tossing one of your throw pillows at you.

“I’m trying to not make a big deal, cause you know. But, at the same time, well you know,” you reply, finally finding the long sleeve you wanted to wear as well as one of your hockey jerseys.

“You need to give me more than this, Evie,” Beth pries.

You lean back against your closet door.

“It was Anthony Beauvillier and Mat Barzal,” you say.

Beth screams and throws another pillow at you.

“You just casually didn’t tell me that you met the damn Calder winner and his like bromance bestie,” she laments. “Evie, what the fuck?”

“This is exactly why,” you sigh. “Like it started out as ok I could have a moment, a cool story to tell. But honestly, they’re two really great guys.”

“You’re not telling me something, I can see it in that wistful look,” she pokes. “Oh god you’re sweet on one of them, aren’t you?”

You shake your head at Beth, not acknowledging the question. Shoving her over a little, you fold the jersey on the bed next to her, so the logo was perfectly visible, but no giveaway of the name on the back or numbers on the sleeves.  

Fine if you two summon I guess I must go. I’m bringing Beth, my roommate, so you need to behave. She’s already a pretty big hockey fan so I apologize now in advance for any of her crazy. She’s great but gets excited. Also, easy answer: where’s the Ebs jersey? ;) Or I can always wear this one.

You snap a quick shot of your Dallas Stars jersey.

Mat of course chimes in first.

That’s cold Evie, really cold. And that thing? That’s even worse. Who is on there? Do I wanna know?

Then Anthony.

Non. Non. Non. Why do you even have that jersey!?

“You’ve got that look,” Beth pokes at your thigh. “I’ll leave you be for now. Need to be at the arena what 6? We should leave here at 4:30. Worse case we get there early, we can snag a drink nearby. I don’t trust the train or the subway on a Saturday to be on time. Thanks for bringing me, Roomie. I’m excited and I get to meet these boys of yours.”

I have favorites across the league, you both know I liked the sport well before you two came along. I have the appropriate jerseys for my boys. Well, almost. You guys making me choose is mean af. Rock paper scissors it between you both, whoever wins that’s what I’ll wear.

“Just leave her yours, you know you want to no matter who would win at that little challenge of Evie’s,” Anthony smiles as the text comes through, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “And I know you’d pull shit to do it no matter what. She’s really your girl anyway.”

“What…” Mat starts before Anthony jumps in.

“You know it’s never been like that with her for me, dude. She’s awesome and I’m so glad to have her as a friend,” he replies. “You though? Since moment one, she’s been something else for you. You need to make a move. You’ve got game, I’ve seen it.”

“Evie’s. She’s Evie. There’s more there...” he leans back into his locker.

“More reason to then Barzy,” he volleys back. “Come on, get your shit together. We can drop everything to leave for her on the way out.”

[sunnysviolin]

BESTIE I WANT A HEROMARI VERSION OF THE MOMENT WHERE THEY’RE FLYING AND HOWL SAYS “That’s my girl” TO SOPHIE IN THAT REALLY LOW AND SEXC VOICE 🤲🏽

CAN I RETCON AN AU I JUST STARTED??? ABSOLUTELY I CAN FOR YOU SOUPMATE....Yes you guys I did have my best friend send me an anon just so I could write this. She’s so fucking good I really don’t deserve having her in my life. So Yes I will change the AU I just started to be even more HeroMari. @cerasus--flores This is related to your ask, so I figured I would tag ya! This is also a Part Two!! 

Instead of having Hero and Mari meet at the exact time they both find their siblings....let’s work with this a bit shall we?

Kel has drifted off somewhere again, and Hero is just so fed up. He knows that Kel isn’t in the castle because Aubrey told him so, and they’re not too far away from the nearest town....Hero swears when he finds Kel he’s putting a sticking charm on him so he can’t leave his bed for a month. Kel knows why they have to hide in the Wastes, and the castle isn’t small. If he wants so badly to explore, why not explore the rooms? 

Hero grabs his cloak and puts it on, trying in vain to cover his dark blue locks. He liked making his hair fun colors, it was one of the little bits of magic he still did just for joy, but it made him easily recognizable. With a little bit of a disguising charm he left the castle and flew over to Farawaytown. 

Luckily the town is in the midst of some military parade, and everyone’s eyes are on the strapping soldiers, not a young boy hiding under a cloak. He scans the cheering fans at first, but with no traces of Kel, he begins to search the alleyways. 

Hero does a quick locator spell, letting a beam of light flare up in his palm. It starts as a ball but quickly shortens into a pointed spire, spinning like a compass. He says Kel’s name, and the spire turns a soft glowing orange, pointing southward. 

He follows it, keeping a sharp eye for any soldiers or citizens who might notice the very obvious display of magic, but the back streets are deserted. He crosses a divide in the alley, but hears a soldier laughing. Hero quickly walks backwards, cupping his hands and starting to extinguish his spell, when he hears a girl’s voice. A familiar voice. 

The spell lights up lavender, and spins wildly once more. It lands in the direction of the soldiers. Hero clasps his hands together, barely even daring to breathe. His heart is racing with a furious beat, but he can’t help to peer around the corner. 

She’s gotten taller since he’s last seen her, her hair is longer too. She always used to keep loose and flowing around her shoulders, but now it’s in a tight formal braid. Her dress is plain, and her hat is straw. Hero only ever saw her wear rich velvet robes and sparkling dresses, and Mari had always detested hats. 

He wouldn’t have believed it was her if she hadn’t spoken just then, telling the two soliders leering at her to leave her alone. They only came closer, and Hero blinked his eyes twice, searching their intentions. He could tell they didn’t actually mean her any harm, but Mari was still frightened. 

It was fine. She would be fine. He should just walk away. Getting close to her meant getting close to Solomon, which would put Kel in danger. He should just go. But Mari was scared...

Hero cursed at himself and straightened up to his full height, walking with confidence towards the trio. He put his arm around Mari, pulling her close to his chest. “There you are sweetheart. Sorry I’m late, I was looking everywhere for you,” 

Mari stiffened up, and Hero managed to brave a glance down at her face. She was staring up at him with a mixture of horror and wonder, but there was something else there. Something that sent a spike through Hero’s heart. She was confused, frightened of him. 

She didn’t know who he was.

Damn Solomon. 

The soldiers were annoyed at his intrusion, snapping something at him. Hero ignored them, not bothering to answer their questions. He held his right hand up over Mari’s shoulder, fingers crooking like they were holding marionette strings. He sent the two soldiers away, giving them instructions to join their platoon once more. Now it was just him and Mari alone. 

She was still frightened of him, and Hero lowered his hood to show his face to her. Even seeing him fully, his eyes and the glinting earrings she had given him as a birthday gift oh so many years ago, didn’t jog her memory. Damn Solomon. 

Hero tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. He gave Mari a small bow and apologized for intruding. She accepted the apology with a mumble, pulling on the sleeves of her conservative green dress.

On a whim Hero offered to “escort” her to wherever she was going. It wasn’t the smart choice, and probably the wrong one, but he had spent four years away from Mari and now that she was here in front of him, he didn’t just want to let her go. Besides the questions were beginning to pile up in his mind. Why was she not at the academy? What had Solomon done to the bright confident girl he used to know? Why didn’t she recognize him.

“Oh um...I’m just going to the bakery. I think that uh, my brother might be there, and I’m...I’m looking for him,” So Sunny was involved in all of this too. Hero shouldn’t be so surprised. Sunny managed to involve himself in plenty of trouble in their childhood. If Kel was here, chances are he had already found Sunny on his own. Hero gave Mari a small smile, the kind he knew made girl’s around him swoon and clutch at their hearts, and held out his arm.

“I’m looking for my brother too. Shall we look together?” She nodded and took his arm, placing her small hand in the crook of his elbow. They walked in silence, Hero too preoccupied, Mari too overwhelmed to speak. Then Hero noticed a familiar sight, a tiny brown mole peeking around a corner. He leaned his head close to Mari and whispered in her ear

“Don’t be alarmed, but I’m being followed. Act normal,” Mari acted even more alarmed, and Hero quickened his pace, a plan beginning to form in his head. Solomon may have taken Mari’s memories, and maybe even her abilities, but she would still have her natural talents. Maybe a taste of what she used to have would bring out some of the old times they used to share

Moles were beginning to sprout from the walls, closing them in from all sides. Mari gave a quiet shout of fright, and Hero smirked. He grabbed her securely around the waist and flew them both up high into the air. The wind made her dress a balloon, and the moles chattered angrily from below. 

Mari had her eyes shut tightly, fear making her shake. Hero frowned, and then shook off his negative feelings. He took his hands away from her waist and linked their fingers easily together. “Open your eyes,” Mari shook her head, a quiet whimper of fright managing to escape her lips. He squeezed her hands once, “Trust me,” 

Mari cautiously opened her eyes one by one and gaped at the sight. She had never been this high up before! Still something about it felt right, like she had done it a thousand times before. She turned back towards the wizard she had recognized by his strange colored hair and gave him an uncharacteristically wide smile. 

She had been so scared when the wizard Hero had first put his arm around her, thinking back to all the things the other girls at the flower shop said. But all of those rumors couldn’t be true, not about this boy with his soft spoken voice and gentle smiles. 

“That’s my girl,” He whispered into her ear, heart fluttering at the joy on Mari’s face as they glided through the air together. Hero gave her instructions to straighten her legs and start walking, and they continued their jaunt high above the heads of the rest of the world. She clearly still wasn’t herself, but it felt nice to do this with Mari again. 

This was something they had done countless times in their youth. Flying was one of Mari’s favorite things, and they had often danced around in the air while they waited for their next lessons to begin. 

“Not so hard is it?” Hero laughed, placing his boot down on one of the rooftops and launching them higher into the air. Mari gave an exhilarated giggle, and Hero couldn’t take his eyes off of her. They landed on the balcony of the bakery, the band below finishing their waltz with a dramatic flourish. Mari had stars in her eyes, staring at him in childlike awe. Hero couldn’t help the blush that dusted his cheeks, turning away from her and towards the long hallway ahead.

“Let’s see if those brothers of ours are down below, hmm?” 

[joezworld]

Fools in Love (8/10)

Double Date, Quadruple Header

1980

"And the last item on the agenda..." said the inspector as he assigned locomotives to trains. "There is a series of special trains going to Suddery from the mainland on this coming Sunday. 46 040, you and 35 102 will take the morning arrivals, and more engines will be assigned at a later time."

"Wow," said Delta with a healthy dose of sarcasm and faux cheer - she didn’t like this inspector and his clear bias towards steam engines. A special train from him could easily be carrying garbage. "A special! Is it a special special, or is it a really special special?"

"I hope it's a special special special, with special carriages." Bear said with equal sarcasm. "Then everything will be specially special!"

"Special has ceased to be a real word now." Duck said in a small voice while the inspector glared over the top of his spectacles.

"You will find out on Sunday." He said firmly. "Now get to work."

Bear and Delta arrived at Barrow on the front of separate trains - the Limited and the Express, to find the yard in disarray.

A seething Class 08 was shuttling back and forth while the trucks laughed at him. Bear, who had arrived second, watched as Delta didn't even try to help, and instead was mocking the 08 as he hurled insults at her, the trucks and the coaches.

This didn’t make the shunter any happier, and he began bumping and banging coaches until a particularly bold rake of third class carriages slipped their brakes on and refused to move an inch, trapping the disagreeable shunter deep inside a siding.

To make matters worse, none of the cars for the "incredibly special specials" had arrived yet. The trains were late arriving in Barrow, and the Yard Master was tearing out what little of his hair remained.

Noon arrived, and so did Edward, bringing a train of ballast wagons from Arlesburgh. "Oliver failed." He gasped, not having been remotely ready for a cross-island jaunt on a heavy train. "So this missed Bear's goods and- oh, hello Bear."

Bear grimaced. "There hasn't been a goods train yet - I'm still waiting on my special."

"Oh." Edward paled. "Well that would explain why BoCo was so frantic."

Bear and Delta winced. If a freight train was canceled it was usually folded into the next pick-up goods; BoCo was probably having to flat-shunt a quarter mile long train at each station, the poor engine.

After having a drink, Edward was drafted into helping out in the yard, and was soon sorting out the mess, although he did leave the 08 in the yards until last - the third class coaches had some choice words for him, and they were not brief!

At this point, BoCo finally arrived, or rather, his train did - Toad the brakevan was on the leading end, while a plume of steam wafted into the air from near the back.

"Mister BoCo had engine troubles." Toad explained. "So we left him at the works and Mister Henry had to push. His passengers aren’t pleased about that!"

They weren't. As Edward and the 08 sorted the massive train, the passengers swarmed out of the coaches, unsure of who to be upset at but hopping mad nonetheless.

"We've surely missed our connection!" They shouted at the stationmaster, who wrung his hands before telling them that the connection hadn't even arrived yet!

"There’s been a signal failure further up the line, " he said nervously. "So no train has been able to get through."

Strangely, this didn’t make the passengers any calmer, and Henry was forced to retreat to the sheds to escape their ire.

"Well, I suppose that this day can only get worse..." he muttered darkly as he looked out onto the empty BR line leading inland.

"What makes you say that?" Delta asked, not particularly upset that her "special" was late.

"The concert will be delayed!" Henry cried. "And I was rather looking forward to it - it isn't every day that you get to be tour support for Led Zeppelin!"

"What?" Bear was shocked. "Led Zeppelin is coming to Sodor?"

"Yes," Henry explained. "They're going to the Suddery fairgrounds. They did a show in Germany a few days ago, and they're coming here by train. I’m taking them."

"Really? The Suddery fairgrounds?" Edward asked as he shunted the last of the coaches into place. "But there's barely a gazebo there. How will they perform? It's all muddy!"

"I don't know how they plan on doing it, but my driver is certainly quite eager." Henry looked over at his driver, who was wearing an old band t-shirt over his normal work clothes.

"Make fun all you want, but I will get an autograph!" He yelled at Henry, who rolled his eyes.

"He's been like that all day."

---------

Several hours later, and the special trains still hadn't made an appearance. The stationmaster had attempted to quell the now-riotous passengers by showing a list of delayed trains to them, which did nothing but scare away Edward, who took one look at the large list of delayed goods trains and realized that the lazy 08 would try and make him shunt all of them. When nobody was looking, his crew connected him to an empty stock train and left for Peel Godred, leaving the 08 to have to work for a change.

And not a moment too soon. Edward has just barely disappeared into the distance when the BR home signal dropped, and a pair of furious Class 37s roared into the yard. Too angry for words or help, they banged and slammed their train into a siding by themselves, growled at the 08 as he brought their next train up, and seethed into the distance as fast as their wheels would carry them.

"That was ominous..." Henry said as the home signal dropped again to allow the next train into the yard.

It was... For the next 45 minutes, the yard was practically besieged by train after angry BR train - some over 4 hours late - who raced into the yard, dropped their wagons or disembarked their passengers, picked up new ones, and raced away again. The poor 08 was losing his mind as goods wagons built up around him. The three Sudrians couldn't even help - their shed was on the opposite side of the main line from the yard, and there was no time in between trains for them to wade into the fray and assist. Eventually, as a harried looking DMU rattled across the bridge to Sodor on a through train to Norramby, Bear and Delta were allowed across the main line to pick up their specials from the yard.

Bear had been given a short line of funny-looking vans, while Delta had a longer string of flatcars carrying lumpy shapes covered in tarpaulins.

Problems emerged before they were even coupled up.

"These hoses don't fit." Said one of the men as he tried to connect the brake pipes on Bear's wagons.

Several more attempts were made before the problem was found: the vans were from Germany, and used air brakes, while the two diesels used British vacuum brakes. Neither system was compatible with the other, which meant that this train would have to go without brakes.

An inspection of Delta's wagons revealed that they were also German, and had similar brake lines.

-

"How are there two separate trains from Germany?" Delta asked. "Why didn't they keep them together when they got off the ferry?"

"Ve took two different ferries." Snapped the lead flatcar. "Und ve vere suppozed to be hier three hourz ago!"

-

Hauling an unbraked train was not a huge issue - it merely required more care and a brake van - but a much bigger issue arose when a search for brake vans found only Toad.

"Well that’s torn it," Bear said. "We can't share a brakevan unless we double head our train, and I don’t know where we're even going with these."

"Actually, Mister Bear," Toad interjected as the yardmaster frantically flipped through his train orders to see if the situation could be salvaged. "If you are double-heading two normal length trains, you would need two brake vans then, to counter-act the increased weight. Standard practices." He paused to inspect the train.

"And that's enough wagons that I would recommend a second van and a second engine in the name of safety."

The yardmaster cursed and threw his clipboard to the ground - all of these special trains were going to the same station and he still didn’t have enough vans!?

"Toad, does it have to be brakevans?" Henry called from the platform. His special train had arrived on the back of the most recent passenger train, and unlike the other specials, it was fully braked. "Could we just put it on the back of my train?"

Toad inspected the train - three Pullman carriages and a baggage car. "It's very unusual Mister Henry, but it should just work!"

-

The unusual cavalcade was quickly assembled - Henry and his coaches, then Bear, his wagons, Delta's wagons, Delta herself, and then Toad. This ensured that the unbraked wagons wouldn't slam together and cause trouble, while also providing enough braking power for the entire train.

The unusual makeup of the train attracted the attention of its passengers as well, and the members of Led Zeppelin came out to look at what was going on.

"You know that Rod is going to lose it when he hears about this?" One of them remarked.

"Oh yeah he will. That paint's not prototypical, oh no!" Another man with long blond hair said mockingly as he snapped pictures of Delta and Toad.

"Hey!" Said Delta. "My paint looks amazing!"

The rocker held his hands up. "I mean no disrespect, it's just that one of our friends is into really accurate model trains, and he's going to flip when he sees these pictures!"

"Oh," Delta blushed a little. "Well make sure to get my good side, which is all of my sides!"

The man laughed as he went down the platform to get more pictures.

"Excuse me, Mister Plant?" Toad asked as he came near. "Will you be performing Stairway at tonight's show?"

Robert Plant blinked. "Why yes we are! Are you a fan?" He asked the brake van.

"A little bit sir."

"Well I'll be! We have fans everywhere!"

---

Eventually, the strange train rumbled out of Barrow yard and across the bridge into Sodor.

It was slow going - they were using the path cleared for Henry's train, and it had been timetabled for a much faster speed than the unbraked wagons were allowed to travel at.

By the time they had arrived at Kildane, they were running quite behind even the most generous schedule, and had to wait for other trains to pass.

The electric branch had just received new electric locomotives, but they were nowhere to be seen. Edward was there however, sitting in the yard with a dazed look on his face.

"They're very chatty." He said, sounding quite overwhelmed.

After waiting at the station for about ten minutes, the station master came out and spoke to Henry's driver.

"We need this train taken to Suddery." he said, pointing to a line of ten wagons loaded with aluminum.

"You do know this is a special, right?" Henry’s driver protested. "We can't stop to pick up more cars at every station! Have Edward do it!"

"He can't. Whatever foul-up the mainland is doing has thrown off the schedule for the entire region. There isn't another path until nightfall.” He paused. “You'd probably need to take Edward with you as well, considering that he needs to be in Wellsworth by four."

The stationmaster had phrased this like a request, but it was actually a demand, and so the unusual train got even longer, with Edward and the (thankfully braked) wagons now in front of Henry. On the platform, the members of Led Zeppelin were taking a huge number of photographs, and one - Henry thought his driver had said his name was Jimmy - was at a payphone on the platform, describing the train to a friend. From the sounds of it, the friend was very displeased at the amount of work it would take to recreate this scene on his model railway.

-

After leaving Kildane, there were mercifully no more stops until Wellsworth, where Edward was uncoupled from the train.

Henry quickly realized that there was a problem as he tried to move the train out of the yard. "I can't see anything!" He called back to his driver.

It was true. The wagons stretched so far in front of Henry that it made seeing the rails ahead almost impossible.

Considering that all the aluminum wagons and the Pullman coaches were vacuum braked, it was decided to uncouple Henry and put him in front of the wagons.

This plan was working well, until:

"The coupling is stuck!" Shouted Sean the driver from between Henry and the lead coach.

The coupling links had jammed together at some point, and it would take heavy tools to separate them - heavy tools that weren't on hand, and more importantly, would have broken the links on the chain, meaning that they wouldn’t be able to couple the train back up again!

To make matters worse, neither of the diesels could be attached, as the station at Wellsworth had a single track leading onto the branch from the main line, with the yard beyond it. There was no way for either diesel to reach the front of the train.

Henry, having accepted that this day was going to be one of the longest ones in his life, sighed. "Am I just going to have to go very slow then? Will Led Zeppelin still be popular by the time we get to Suddery?"

"Very funny." His driver said as he tried to think of another way. "We can't even do that - we'd end up delaying Edward's commuter train, and that's about the only thing that hasn't been late tod-"

He was cut off as James clattered into the yard tender-first. "Those menaces at the docks blocked the turntable!" He growled as he was uncoupled from a rake of China Clay wagons, leaving little doubt as to the identity of the menaces.

"Good to see you too James." Henry chuckled at his friend's distress.

"Gah! Henry? What are you doing here!" James yelped. He hadn’t seen Henry.

"Oh you know, just being incredibly late."

"Well don't let me stop you, Old Square Wheels."

"Oh you won't be a bother," Henry said as an idea flew into his smokebox. "Actually, you might be able to help us..."

-

James had no idea who Led Zeppelin was, and quite frankly didn't care, but once Delta shouted at him to show a wheel, he quickly agreed to pilot the train, and they were soon underway.

Suddery fairgrounds had its own sidings and platforms, used for when the annual livestock show takes place, and the train was unloaded in short order. James quickly shunted the aluminum wagons to the goods depot, and then he, Toad and the other engines watched as the lumps under the tarpaulins were revealed to be parts of a massive stage that was rapidly assembled by men who came pouring out of the coaches. Then massive speakers were pulled out of the enclosed wagons, while a number of wheeled cases were removed from the baggage car.

The band, feeling somewhat superfluous, waited near the engines. Bear and Henry felt bad that they weren't bigger Led Zeppelin fans, but were comforted in the fact that they at least knew something about the band, unlike some engines they knew.

Toad, meanwhile, had proved that he was a blatant liar - there was nothing 'little' about his fan status, and he knew more about some songs than the band themselves!

-

Eventually, the stage was built, and the band retreated from the platform to go do a sound test.

The stage was quite close to the platforms, and nobody had been allowed into the venue yet, meaning that:

"Do you lot have any requests?" Shouted Robert Plant over the speaker system.

"IMMIGRANT SONG!" Toad roared before any of the engines could even open their mouths.

-

Night fell over the fairground, and Bear was thankful that none of them were needed for other duties - the fairground was charged with an almost electric atmosphere, and it felt like something special was going to happen.

He looked to Henry at his right, and James and Delta at his left, and realized something else.

"I think," He said slowly. "That this is technically our first date."

"You're right." Henry said with shock. "It's taken us three years, but you're right."

"And ours too..." said Delta quietly. "Jamie, isn't that great? We managed to go on a date!"

James blinked slowly. "Yes we did. And it's a double date at that. By accident no less. We certainly don't do things by half measures!"

He grinned. "If this concert is half as good as that last song, it might be the best first date ever."

"Oh it will be Mister James!" Shouted Toad, who was choosing to ignore whatever the engines were talking about in favor of watching the band tune their instruments.

-

The concert began shortly after 9:30, only slightly behind its posted start time.

The band came out to thunderous applause, and Jimmy Page made the introductions to the audience.

"I just want to thank you all for coming out here tonight - back in 1972, we said that we'd come out here and do a show during our last tour of the United Kingdom, but things happened, and we never made it out here. We said we'd come back, and we never go back on our promises! Even if it takes eight years!"

He paused as the audience applauded once again. "And I also want to give a special thanks to some of our audience tonight. We almost didn't make it here tonight because of some trouble with the train, but those engines back there," he pointed to Henry, Bear, Delta, and James. "Worked like mad to get us here safely and on time, so this first song is dedicated to you!"

The band immediately began playing a hard and heavy rock song. It was an incredibly powerful piece, and the engines looked at each other with glee - this was going to be a hell of a night.

-

Later

As Since I've Been Loving You echoed over the fairgrounds, James quietly whispered to Bear.

"Is this what it feels like for you?"

Bear looked over at James. Even while he directly speaking to another engine, his eyes were glued to Delta, who was enraptured by the music.

"Yes." Bear whispered back. He knew what James meant.

-

The end of the concert was approaching - or so the engines hoped, considering it was almost midnight. Kashmir had taken quite a long time, and while Toad may have been having the time of his life, the engines were feeling the late hour a bit more.

"And this song I want to dedicate - dedicate to a little brake van out there in the train yard," Robert Plant said into the microphone. "Cause he asked for it by name, which means that we've officially got fans everywhere!"

A very recognizable guitar riff began while Toad squeaked in delight.

Henry and Bear looked at each other, and then looked over at James and Delta.  The night could go on for a little bit longer - it wasn’t often you got to see someone hear Stairway to Heaven for the first time. 

[aries-writingblog]

Stay With Me (2)

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes had never looked at himself as a family guy. He never even thought of it until she came around, flipping his world inside out. Bucky likes trouble and this girl? Well, she seems to invite chaos to dinner.

Pairing: Mob! Bucky Barnes x OC! Alex Grant

Chapter Word Count: 1898

Chapter Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, actual violence (one little hit, nothing big)

A/N: This is an OC story but I try to make them with the least amount of physical description as necessary. The pronouns used are feminine for the character.

“Hey, Alex- you’ve got another package on the front porch.” Wanda announced, walking through the door with Peter and Pietro in tow. The woman groaned, pressing her head to the kitchen island countertop.

“Again?” Alex asked, she looked over to Peter. “It’s the third time in two weeks- are you telling your boss the supplies we need?” Peter’s eyes widened and he shook his head. For the past two weeks, three unmarked packages arrived on Alex’s doorstep. The first just had some essentials for wood working- stain, paint, putty, a couple of new carving knives. The second had been similar- then she read back over a receipt as she was balancing her cheque book, noting the exact same products were present in the boxes. She could only imagine what was in the next one.

And she absolutely refused to change hardware stores- the workers were always so kind to her and the youth that typically dropped by- most of them attending the annual auctions to show support. More than once, they banded together and presented the group with a donation- which prompted Alex to make holiday cookies for the store employees every year. So, no- she would not give up on her family simply because of one idiotic, stupid rich criminal, who seemed hell bent on forcing his way into her life.

“What makes you think they’re from Bucky?” He asked, snatching a drink from her fridge. Pietro grunted, jumping up and sitting on the island, leaning over to Alex.

“If he’s giving you free shit, I wouldn’t complain.” He commented, tugging at her hair gently. Alex looked up, cocking an eyebrow at the teen. “Wring that fucker dry.”

“Pietro.” Wanda scolded, slapping her brother’s arm. “I don’t blame you, Alex. He’s a shady character, with even shadier money.”

“Okay, why are two teens giving me advice, right now? Shouldn’t you be... I don’t know, cleaning your rooms or something?” She snipped, pushing Pietro off the countertop. “People eat here, get your ass off.”

“I’m serious, Alex.” Pietro stopped her, gazing at her. She stopped pushing, meeting his electric blue eyes. “It would help with some of the expenses here. You know that.”

“We aren’t broke. You are, dickhead.” Alex shoved him down the hallway. “Now go- I need laundry in five minutes or your ass is grass.”

Wanda laughed, following her brother down the hallway. The two had been orphaned kids when Alex found them. They were on the streets, trying to survive. Pietro had been caught stealing from a grocery store, Alex stepped in and apologized for his behavior. The, at the time, nine year old played along and then told Alex their situation. She immediately offered them a place in her home. Pietro had accepted, trusting her fully. Wanda had been suspicious but eventually warmed up to her. They’d lived together for six years, the teens would have their sixteenth birthday in a few months. Every time Pietro or Wanda offered to help out and get a job, she turned them down.

“I make plenty of money at the hospital. You’re only kids now, enjoy your time as kids.” She’d tell them.

“They’re right, you know.” Peter supplied, tossing his backpack to the floor. “He may make dirty money but he has plenty of it. If he’s blowing it on you- what’s the problem?” Alex scoffed, swallowing her last bite of cookie.

“The problem is that you don’t live here, Pete. Why are you always here?” She passed the last of the dessert over to Peter.

“Aunt May is working night shift again and I told her I would stay with you so she wouldn’t worry.” He explained, trying to talk around a mouthful of cookie. He swallowed, taking another swig of his drink. “Plus, Pietro and I have a science report due tomorrow and we haven’t started it yet.” Alex took a deep, calming breath, closing her eyes.

“That’s great, Peter. But I’m also working night shift this week. So, you’ll be here by yourselves.” Alex stood up, stretching her back out. “Don’t burn my house down.”

“Sure thing.” He beamed at her, a chuckle falling from her lips as she started up the stairs.

Alex quickly got dressed for work, pulling on her scrubs. She made sure she had her ID badge, clipping it to her pocket. She then stopped by Pietro and Wanda’s rooms to double check if the clothes were picked up. On her way down the stairs, she heard quiet whispering from the teens.

“- what’s the harm in a date with the guy?” Pietro asked. Wanda sighed, Alex could almost picture her pressing her fingers to her temples in annoyance.

“So what she doesn’t want to date anyone? Just let it go, Pietro. And no one said anything about her dating Bucky, Peter just said that he has an interest in her. And sending random gifts isn’t gonna win that woman over, trust me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, do you know something?” Peter asked. Alex stopped on the steps, curious to hear what Wanda was going to spill to the group.

“Well... here’s the thing. In the back of Alex’s closet, there’s a-“ Wanda stopped, turning around and greeting Alex with a sheepish grin. “Oh, hi Alex.”

“Kids...” she narrowed her eyes, skirting around the group and going into the laundry room. There was a pause before three pairs of feet scurried after her.

“Can we order pizza tonight?” Pietro batted his eyelashes at her, giving his signature pouting smile. She returned the smile, mocking him.

“Pizza in the freezer. And stop going into my closet, Wanda.”

“In my defense, you told me I could borrow that top a few weeks ago and it fell off the hanger. So, was I really in your closet?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. Alex cocked an eyebrow and continued the laundry.

“What would you do, if hypothetically Mr. Barnes was like really interested in you?” Peter asked her, leaning over the washing machine.

“Peter.” She sighed. “I’m not dating your boss. End of story.” She started the machine before turning to Wanda. “Pizza’s in the freezer, keep an eye on it while it’s baking. Don’t let strangers into the house and keep an eye on your brother and Peter. Keep the laundry going and don’t work with any of the auction stuff until I get home. I don’t want any of you showing up at the hospital, wounded. Got it?”

Wanda nodded, repeating everything back to her. Alex grabbed her phone and keys, tucking them into her pockets. She hugged Wanda goodbye, ruffling Pietro‘s hair, before going out. She passed by the large box on the porch, groaning. She pushed it over to the edge of the porch, kicking it for good measure. Then, she got into her car and started to the hospital.

~~~~~~

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Bucky.” Steve advised, crossing his arms. He’d been slightly pissed all day, as soon as Bucky told him of the plan. Sam laughed, watching the buildings out of the window. Bucky groaned, throwing his head back onto the headrest.

“I’m just gonna ask if she got the deliveries. That’s it. No flirting, no banter, nothing. Zilch. Just a question.” Bucky reviewed, once again.

“But in practice, the deliveries are flirting tactics.” Steve pointed out, rolling his eyes. “She threatened to shoot you if you came back, Bucky. Leave it alone.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Bucky griped, cutting his eyes over to Steve. “You never give me shit for anything- girls in clubs, you’ve seen me beat guys senseless, shoot people, more questionable things than being interested in a woman.”

“She’s a woman who has her life together, man. Don’t pull her into this life.” Steve sighed, causing Bucky to shut his mouth. The SUV pulled to a stop in front of the house. Bucky unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. He jaunted up the steps and rapped his knuckles against the door. When it opened, he saw a teenaged boy with bleach white hair behind it.

“Can I help you?” He asked. He didn’t let the door open further than his shoulders. It was excusable. A strange, tattooed man at seven thirty standing on the porch of a woman who threatened to kill him. Bucky flashed a bright smile.

“Is Alex around, kid?” He asked, glancing over and spying the box still sitting unopened on the porch. “Ah... she hasn’t opened them?”

“You’re Bucky Barnes?” He asked, ticking an eyebrow up. Bucky nodded, reaching a hand out to shake hands. Pietro didn’t reciprocate, keeping the door tucked to him. Alex trained these kids well. “Well, thanks for the shit but Alex said she didn’t really want it.”

“Pietro, you left the oven-“ A girl with red hair stopped in her tracks. “What’s going on?”

“This is Barnes.” Pietro looked back at her.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Barnes!” Peter peeked his head around Pietro, opening the door wider. Pietro grumbled something but stood back a little to accommodate for the other boy. “What are you doing here?” Bucky silently sent a thanks to any deity currently listening in. Peter he could work with, the other two kids weren’t gonna give him the time of day. Much like Alex.

“Alex around?” He asked, trying to peek into the house further. Pietro shifted, blocking his view. He crossed his arms, scowling at the bulky mass of a man standing on their porch.

“No- she’s at work-“

“Peter!” The girl hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Shut up!” She turned to Bucky again. “Listen, mister, we don’t want your gifts or you loitering on our porch. We’ve found Jesus, don’t need your depression pamphlet, and we don’t want any of your fucking cookies. Our mom doesn’t condone talking to strangers. Good day, sir.” She slammed the door in his face, the audible sound of several locks clicking.

“Wanda- what the fuck! He could kill you, you know that right?” One of the boys shrilled on the opposite side of the door. Bucky stood in shock- mom? Alex definitely did not look old enough to have two fifteen year olds.

“Oh please, as if. That’ll look real good to Alex, wouldn’t it? He won’t touch either of us.”

Bucky turned and jogged down the steps back to the car. When he opened the door, Sam was doubled over, laughing so hard he was crying. Steve was watching with a ‘I told you so’ smile.

“Alright, you’ve had your laughs.” He grumbled. Shoving his way into the car. Sam snickered, straightening up and looking over at the man.

“That little girl kicked your ass!” He burst out laughing again, pounding his fist on his knee. Bucky mimicked Sam’s words mockingly as he began a search on his phone.

“Whatever.” He breathed out, looking up to the driver. “Saint Quincy’s Hospital, Davis.” The driver nodded, starting the car.

“Why are we going to a hospital?” Steve asked, mirth in his voice. Sam began wiping the laughter from his face, sniffling. Bucky turned to Steve, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Punch me in the face.” He instructed, unbuttoning the top buttons on his shirt. Steve raised an eyebrow, cocking his head. Sam turned, serious again.

“Now, wait a minute-“ Sam was interrupted by Steve throwing a punch directly into Bucky’s nose. Bucky doubled over, holding his now bleeding nose. His eyes watered, stomach rolling.

“Shit!”

[mopeytropey]

Author’s note: This moodboard for chapter 3 was not a shameless excuse to post Lincoln glistening and shirtless ... OR WAS IT? 

a beer buds series: chapter 3

(available below & posted on AO3 here)

Timeline: this takes place during chapter 3 of 'apu' after Clarke has gone running with Lexa but before game night at Lexa + Costia's apartment

Beer: Whirlpool NEW ENGLAND PALE ALE

Soft and citrusy, Whirlpool is Night Shift's flagship New England pale ale. Pours hazy blonde with a nose of ripe peach and grapefruit. Sips juicy, fruity, and crisp, with minimal bitterness and big clementine notes. A bright, vibrant beer that’s wonderfully drinkable and remarkably refreshing.

ABV 4.5%

Whirlpool: Night Shift (Everett, MA) Lexa slows at the base of an incline, bracing her weight with her hands on her kneecaps while catching her breath. Lincoln extends his run by a few extra strides, resting his torso against the black metal railing of an overlook that juts above the harbor. They stand just six feet apart, regulating their breathing, while pedestrians, cyclists, and young children in strollers filter past. Although the sun wanes, arching towards the water, its heat has soaked Lexa’s shirt and shorts so that the material sticks to her skin in several places.

“Bit more intense than your last run?” Lincoln asks when he circles back to stand beside her.

Lexa stands to her full height, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe sweat from her face. “What do you mean?”

“Octavia tells me you managed to coerce Clarke into running with you the other day. Somehow I can’t imagine there were any interval sprints in that particular course.”

That jolt of nerves—of which she is now regretfully quite familiar—at the mention of Clarke has Lexa shrugging off a laugh and heading for the shade of the Memorial Bridge overpass. Her mind betrays her in the worst way as visions of Clarke in running gear, jogging beside her and cracking jokes, resurface yet again. She would kill for some ice cold water.

Either to drink or dump over her head.

She walks with her hands folded atop her head, triceps stretching pleasantly as she leans against the bridge piling. The cold stone presses into her skin through the material of her shirt, and Lexa focuses on the sensation. Lincoln follows her with an expectant smile.

“Clarke can be coerced by nothing, I assure you. She was the one who asked to come with me.” Lexa kicks lightly at Lincoln’s chiseled calf muscle. “Anyway, I sort of lost my running partner when he started getting laid, didn’t I?”  

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lincoln laughs, defensively holding up his palms towards Lexa. “You have not lost me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not as available.”

“Guilty,” Lincoln shrugs. “But, come on, you know how it is. You remember.”

She does remember. Lovedrunk and saturated by lust and desire—that overconsumption of physical touch that leaves no room for anything or anyone else. She remembers those first few reclusive weeks with Costia, both of them cancelling plans and shutting out the world.

It feels like someone else’s memories. A fading mirage from another life.

Lexa nods, conceding with a short exhale. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

She stands to stretch her limbs and suddenly feels like she could run another ten miles.

“Let’s grab a beer,” Lincoln suggests, and Lexa is grateful for the change in subject.

“What—now? Where would we go? I’m disgusting,” she says, plucking her shirt from where it sticks to the skin of her stomach.

Lincoln bobs his head up the sidewalk, and Lexa’s stomach clenches to see the bright white siding of Dockside. “Octavia’s working. Let’s go bother her.”

“I need to shower,” Lexa stalls.

“Nah, come on.” Lincoln strongarms her, quite literally, by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking farther beneath the shadowed overpass. “The girls won’t care. We’ll sit outside.”

“Linc, I—“

“Nope, no arguments. Anyway, it’s Wednesday so Clarke is probably there too. Don’t you want to see your new best friend?”

Yes. All of the time. She is both the best and worst thing in my life at the moment. It is exceedingly problematic.

Lexa admits to none of this and instead allows herself to be escorted down the short path towards Dockside’s sunny patio. She angles her head so that she can see Lincoln’s face of self-satisfaction and scowls at his ridiculous smile.

:::

“You might not want to hug me, I’m incredibly sweaty right now.”

“Like that’s gonna stop me,” Octavia says, practically jumping into Lincoln’s embrace and landing a soft kiss against his mouth.

It’s brief and chaste, but Lexa nevertheless averts her eyes and lets her gaze fall across the boats in the harbor. They’ve approached the bar from its rear side, closer to the delivery hatch, crunching through the gravel lot that separates Dockside from the bridge.

“You guys are staying for a drink, right?”

Lexa quickly wonders if she can still sneak away for a shower and meet up with Lincoln later now that he’s got Octavia in his arms. “Actually—“

“Oh, no, sorry,” Octavia smirks. “That wasn’t a question. You’re staying.”

Lexa fully surrenders after that, following Lincoln and Octavia towards the patio entrance with a short laugh. Things could be worse than having friends hellbent on spending time with her.

It is this misguided thought that precedes Lexa’s gaze landing on Clarke through the windows that line the water.

Oh no, things are actually the worst they could possibly be.

Clarke in a strapless, summery dress. Clarke with her hair twisted at the back of her head in a delicate bun so that Lexa’s vision narrows to the shape of her bare neck and shoulders. Clarke’s bright smile as she spins to collect empty glasses from a table of two college-aged girls.

Lexa’s smile drains from her face, and when Clarke looks up to see her on the patio, she feels it like a punch to her abdomen.

She had not been wearing this particularly offensive dress during Trikru’s delivery this morning, and Lexa wonders if she often goes home on her long Wednesdays to freshen up and change clothes between shifts.

Perhaps she has a favorite customer coming in later whom she wishes to impress. Perhaps Clarke has invited someone to come visit her specifically, to make the gruelling shift more bearable. Perhaps—

“Grab a seat out here.” Octavia’s direction interrupts Lexa’s inconsequential thoughts.

Perhaps Lexa should stop theorizing about Clarke and her goddamn dress and pull her life together.

“There’s this obnoxious group of guys at the bar who keep trying to flirt with Clarke about kayaking,” Octavia continues. “I have to go rescue her, but I’ll be back with drinks.”

She leaves them with a quick brush of her fingers down Lincoln’s chest, and Lexa struggles to push images from her mind of Clarke being hit on as she climbs onto a stool across from Lincoln. The patio hasn’t yet filled with a late afternoon crowd, and she and Lincoln enjoy a minute or two of relative quiet.

Lincoln hadn’t undersold the location: the views at Dockside are stunning. The harbor is aglow as boats slice its shimmering surface. Lexa allows herself to relax under a setting sun. The sound of gulls in chorus with a quiet, perpetual clanging of cars going over the bridge soothe her previously racing thoughts.

When Octavia returns, it is with glasses of ice water, two, dripping pints of beer, and Clarke at her heels.

Lexa’s relaxation vanishes in a blink.

“Night Shift. Whirlpool,” Octavia says by way of explanation of their beverages.

Greetings overlap as Octavia places coasters and pints on the table, but Clarke’s voice, most prominently, rings in Lexa’s ears. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you guys were coming by today.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Lexa responds, avoiding Lincoln’s eye as he kicks her running shoe beneath the table.

She studiously ignores the swoop in her belly when she catches Clarke’s playful gaze instead.

“You two look properly gross and sweaty,” she comments with that unnecessarily striking smile of hers.

“Pretty sure our run was just a bit more intense than the casual little jaunt you and Lexa did the other day,” Lincoln teases.

“Hey!” Clarke reaches across Octavia for the sole purpose of pinching Lincoln’s bicep until he squirms. “I was remarkably athletic and agile, thank you very much.”

“Yes, we’re all incredibly proud of your fitness,” Octavia adds, condescendingly patting the top of Clarke’s head.

Clarke turns to Lexa. “Tell them!”

“Your endurance should be commended,” Lexa tells her entirely straight-faced.

“I hate all of you,” Clarke responds, narrowing her eyes at the three of them.

Lexa plucks at the strap of her damp tank top and represses a grin. The movement curbs Clarke’s teasing smile when she spies Lexa’s hand.

“How’s your hand?”

Lexa looks at the bandaging wrapping her right palm, almost as if she had forgotten it was there.

“Oh. It’s fine. It didn’t bother me at all during the rest of my deliveries. Stings a little now—probably from all of the gross sweat.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as Lincoln finishes a sip of beer and asks, “What happened?”

“I caught that sharp edge on the truck latch this morning.”

“Shit, I keep forgetting about having that looked at,” Lincoln says. “Did you let Indra know?”

“Yes. I had to fill out paperwork for the injury, and she said she’d have the latch replaced.”

“Why don’t you come inside and let me change the bandage.”

Having Clarke’s doting attention when it’s just the two of them is challenging. Withstanding her genuine care and concern in front of their friends is horrible.

“Oh, you don’t have to—it really doesn’t feel that bad, Clarke.”

“Hey listen, I’m not covering your deliveries tomorrow if that thing gets infected and gangrenous,” Lincoln tells her.

Lexa shoots him a look across the table for his ludicrous commentary.

“There’s no sense in you sitting there in pain just because you’re stubborn. I have all the supplies inside. Come on, it’ll just take a minute,” Clarke says and then hesitates as if she had briefly considered reaching out for Lexa’s upturned hand.

Lexa squeezes her fingers into a fist, sending a sharp, stinging pain against her injured palm. It does nothing to lessen the image of Clarke reaching out to her, but it curbs her own reckless impulses to run her fingers along the delicate curve of her shoulder just to see if—

She buries the thought and swallows hard.

“Okay,” she finally says, sliding from her stool so that she is stood beside Clarke. Eye-to-eye with Clarke’s stunning blue gaze. “Thanks.”

A tingling suspicion runs up the back of her neck as she trails behind Clarke off the patio. When they enter the cooler, darker interior of Dockside’s main room, Lexa turns to see Lincoln and Octavia huddled together and ignoring them completely.

Her paranoia—among other things—is really getting out of hand.

Clarke leads them behind the bar counter and through a swinging door into the kitchen. Lexa has never had such unfettered access to this section of Dockside, and she suddenly feels acutely aware of her damp hair and running clothes underneath the bright fluorescent lighting. Clarke grabs a plate of something from the salad line, says a quick thank you to the woman removing stems from baby spinach leaves, and they exit through another door into a dim hallway.

“My corner office with a view,” Clarke says upon approaching a heavy-looking wooden door. “Just kidding, there’s no windows in here.” She bangs open the door with her hip and steps inside, waiting for Lexa to follow her. “But, it’s where I keep the first aid kit.”

Lexa steps across the threshold with a timid smile. She’s never been inside Clarke’s office and already it feels like a line she should not have crossed. When Clarke had patched her hand that morning, they had stood in the drafty storage room with its high ceilings and spacious shelving lining the walls. It was a familiar space and vastly different atmosphere.

This room is cramped and dim. Intimate. Lexa feels out of her depth within seconds.

Clarke sets down her plate of food to fetch the box of medical supplies and is already stood too closely. Lexa thinks she can actually smell her shampoo because Clarke is just that much shorter and her head is angled to focus on removing the old bandaging from Lexa’s hand.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Clarke says.

Her words are felt in short puffs of breath against Lexa’s upturned wrist. Lexa’s other hand fiddles the hem of her running shorts while her breathing shallows and her heart hammers loudly in her ears.

She hopes the tremors building in her stomach don’t translate to her hands. Particularly while one of them is gently held by Clarke’s careful fingers.

“Your mom is a doctor so I can trust you know how to properly assess a wound, right?”

“God no,” Clarke laughs. “She would probably be horrified by my technique. Or lack thereof.”

“Great. I feel better already.”

Clarke looks up at her with a smile so utterly devastating, Lexa thinks she should have risked infection instead. “I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

She wishes she had a modicum of chill when it comes to Clarke, but truthfully, she does not.

Lexa tries to keep her eyes anywhere other than trailing down the slope of Clarke’s shoulder, which is unfairly close and appears soft and smooth under the low light. She skims over the minimal clutter of Clarke’s desk to stop herself from shamefully ogling a close friend doing her a favor.

There is an assortment of hodgepodge frames that hang on the dark wooden wall behind Clarke’s desk. She sees a picture of Clarke looking much younger with a boy around her age, arms wrapped around each other and stood in front of Dockside.

She hears herself asking, “Who’s that?” before she can silently advise herself to mind her business and get out of this room as quickly as possible.

“All set,” Clarke says, and then turns to face the wall behind her desk. “Who’s who?”

There’s finally some small distance between them, and Lexa breathes out slowly. She looks down to her hand, freshly wrapped in soft white gauze, and flexes it twice into a fist.

“Thanks.”

Clarke’s voice is as soft as she has ever heard it. “You’re welcome.”

For a beat, they hold a steady gaze. It passes quickly, but not before Lexa’s pulse accelerates and her palms begin to ache with nerves. She breaks eye contact first, as she often does. She can hear Clarke quietly exhale a second later because the room is remarkably compact, but also because Lexa has started to believe that her body is attuned to Clarke’s the more time they spend in the same place.

Or, she’s just being dramatic.

“The, uh, middle frame. The kid hugging you outside of the bar.”

“Oh! That’s Wells.” Clarke walks towards the frame and plucks it off the wall so that she can examine it more closely. “He’s one of my closest friends and the reason I get to play bar manager at this lovely establishment.”

That has Lexa’s attention instantly, and she forgets her nerves in favor of learning something new about Clarke. “Oh, really?”

Clarke often does this—unintentionally creating distractions from Lexa’s problematic internal narrative. She drops these little tidbits of information that snare Lexa’s curiosity. Each time, it becomes easier to just relax and enjoy Clarke’s company without overthinking the way the air condenses around them when they are stood too closely. Between that and her penchant for terrible jokes, it explains why Lexa has been able to maintain any semblance of friendship.

“Yeah, we became friends in high school—we were both into the arts, so total nerds—but he left for San Francisco right after graduation. His dad owned and ran this bar for ages, but when his memory got worse and he had to retire, Wells more or less inherited a business he never wanted to manage.”

“And he asked you to take it over,” Lexa supplies.

“Yeah, he sort of caught me at an opportune time when I had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life.” She replaces the picture to its nail on the wall, crosses her arms over her stomach, and exhales a humorless laugh.

Lexa raises her eyebrows and nods. “I can relate.”

“Right.” Clarke’s short laugh is the last lingering sound in the room.

The moment stretches, Clarke watching her as if trying to solve a riddle. Three rapid knocks at the open doorway interrupt the heavy silence, and Lexa is glad she isn’t forced to be the one to look away this time.

“Call for you on line one, Clarke.”

Lexa recognizes Mindy’s voice at her back and watches as Clarke smiles and nods. “Okay thanks, I’ll take it back here.”

“Okay, boss.”

Lexa can hear Mindy’s retreating footsteps a moment later and shifts on her feet to prepare her own exit.

“I should let you—”

“I’m just gonna—”

Words trip over one another until Clarke’s embarrassed smile matches her own.

“Thanks again for …” Lexa raises her right hand to show its fresh bandaging.

“Try not to be so clumsy next time, yeah?” Clarke sits at her desk with a smirk and Lexa takes one, measured step backwards.

“I’ll do my best,” she grins.

She thinks that if Clarke showed up to the delivery hatch wearing that dress next Wednesday, she may very well sever her entire hand from her body from sheer distraction.

“Okay, you should get out of here—Lincoln will think I’ve taken you hostage, and I’m very busy and important taking calls in my fancy office.”

Lexa laughs in response, backing her way towards the open doorway. If Octavia has stayed to keep Lincoln occupied at their table, there’s no way he’s even registered her prolonged absence. She mock salutes to Clarke once she is back in the hallway.

“I’m leaving, Madame President. Proceed with your executive responsibilities.”

Lexa exits the darkened hallway to the trailing sounds of Clarke’s laughter.

:::

[loneswaggingranger]

Does it matter?

By @loneswagger for @pixiethefirecat7

This is for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Bruce Banner, May Parker

Summary: 

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched away from him. 

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.” -

The one where Tony Stark lives with a metal arm, Steve Rogers never became old, and Peter Parker baffles at how incredibly fine they make everything seem. Or, the one where Peter Parker becomes Tony's designated spokesperson. Seriously, what would they do without him? (Nothing, apparently.)

Story under the cut! Hope you like it~

Does it hurt?

*

He once found Tony shirtless and utterly wasted in the lab, drowning in a sea of one too many shattered decanters, knuckles gone white from wringing that outdated burner phone for who knows how long. Crimson dribbled from calloused palms across scarred flesh, to ripped jeans over to  shimmering glass shards littered upon sullied floors. 

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched. 

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.”

*

When Peter came home, he expected many things. He expected his dingy little apartment with the wafting smells of May’s burnt bread, imagined snuggling on the couch with her, and watching cheesy soap operas all through the night. He expected those weekly sessions with just him and Mr. Stark in the lab, planning, tinkering and innovating without a care in the world, positively shining whenever Mr. Stark whistled and said, “You got brains, kid.”

He should have known, expectations rarely matched up with reality.

Said notion found him in front of his lunch one day, mumbling, “Nothing makes sense anymore.”

 “Oh?” A tilted look of concern.

“I just- I never expected this, y’know?” Peter twirled a fork aimlessly between his fingers, eyes trained so hard on his meal he thought it might start sizzling soon. Or evaporate into dust. Whichever seemed possible at this rate. “It’s not bad, I mean, you have a great family and an actual kid now- which is totally cool, by the way! And May - May has Happy now, so the apartment's not that empty anymore, a-and she smiles a whole lot more these days. Which is good, I guess. The Accords isn’t even a legit thing anymore, the Avengers come together to sing Kumbaya every other weekend,” His fingers tightened round the fork. “Everything’s all good, yeah?”

There probably would have been a reply, if it wasn't for the tell-tale thump of approaching footsteps Peter never dreamed of growing familiar with.

“Afternoon, Captain Doritos,” Mr. Stark’s drawl felt appeasing at best, challenging at worst.

Captain Rogers threw a half-glance his way, nodding curtly. He went for the fridge in two large strides, swiping out a carton of milk and downing its contents in one vigorous go.

“Ugh, you’re gross, Cap, I’m getting the hell out of here,” Mr. Stark rose from his seat, lightly tousling Peter’s hair as he went. “Finish your grub and hang in the lab with me later, yeah?” His eyes seemed to soften. “It‘ll be just like old times.”

 Old times. Right.

“Also-” Mr. Stark slapped the good Captain’s shoulder, smirking wildly at the vexed ‘Oi!’ that elicited. “If we’re watching anything remotely Disney tonight, I’m going back to Pep’s for the weekend.” 

“For that alone, we’re watching Moana, Frozen and Mulan!” Captain Rogers hollered after the retreating metal middle finger shot high in the air, shaking his head once it fully disappeared down the hallway. A bemused look. “What’s wrong with Disney?”

Peter scoffed, grin plastered expertly on his face.

Another thing that didn’t make sense, this song and dance. This parade of concealed emotions, this system of tactical meet-and-retreat, this exhibition of faux jaunt put up for one another. The shake in Captain’s tone, the tremor in Mr. Stark’s arm - almost indiscernible and yet there it was. Always there, each time Peter looked.

Captain’s carton of milk slid into the bin by his feet. “So how was your week, son?”

Peter chewed on his noodles thoughtfully. “Tiring, I guess. Lots of homework. Also-” He made a face. “Son? Seriously? How nineteen-thirties can you get, Cap?”

Captain rolled his eyes, mock indignance in his stance. “Great. I have to deal with two Tony Starks in the team now, don’t I?”

“Exactly,” Peter smirked, drawing out the last syllable slightly.

*

He remembered piecing uncharacteristically silent calls with his own incessant chatter, so that the harsh breaths pulsating on the other end would finally, finally smoothen out. He remembered resting a hand over Tony’s arrhythmically flouncing heart, coaxing him for a meal, a drink or to just breathe. He remembered whispering to him in a voice so soft yet so firm, “Mr. Stark? Mr. St-Tony? Tony, it’s me. It’s Peter. No one else is here, okay? You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

He remembered the world of hurt his hero went through.

*

It wasn’t like Peter never asked. 

He tried asking during the quiet moments, when he and Mr. Stark were the only ones up at ass ‘o clock, when Mr. Stark strolled into the kitchen for customary morning tea (Pepper said weekends were coffee-free days). He tried asking during the loud ones too, when Mr. Stark was drunk on whatever alcohol he was having, when all the Avengers were in the room, because surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to brag about a good story in front of everyone, right? Wrong. That particular fiasco ended with more than a couple uncomfortable looks, a pale-faced Mr. Stark storming out of said room and a flustered Peter trailing after him with his dozen apologies.

It got to the point where Mr. Stark had to sit Peter down, look him in the eye and say, “That’s it.” His finger, the metal one, dug deep into Peter’s collared shirt. “Stop it, kid. Me and Rogers, whatever happened between the two of us, it’s got nothing to do with you. And we’re fine now. We’re fixed. We watch Star Wars and Harry Potter every other Sunday, for god’s sake. There’s no better that we can get.” The other hand pressed on his arm shakily, a sort of pleading in the motion. “You don’t have to do anything for us anymore. Alright?”

Peter stopped asking after that.

Instead, he made observations. His eyes tracked each subtle gesture of wistful longing between the two, sometimes bordering on spontaneous animosity. Day and night, he made summaries, graphs, charts and fifty-one five-page essays for ten days in a row, writing and writing like he was running out of time.

He conducted interviews too.

Colonel Rhodes shook his head so adamantly when Peter pulled him aside for one of his trademark inquiry sessions, refusing to divulge anything more than a clipped but not unkind, "There’s definitely problems this team hasn't come to terms with yet, but it doesn’t fall on your shoulders to solve them, Peter." Dr. Banner had been much more forthcoming, nodding along to Peter’s mini monologue of observations. He even pitched in some of his own discoveries as to how the two skirted around each other when there was or wasn’t an audience, albeit with a mild warning that some things aren’t meant to be pushed too hard.

Even Bucky once appeared in front of Peter’s room, bouquet of purple hydrangeas and mug of hot chocolate in tow after one particularly brutal sparring session which had ended with one man’s ruptured blood vessel and another’s broken nose. He spent an hour trying to convey that, that was just their way of resolving conflict, their way of getting things out of their system. There wasn’t much that could be done about it. There wasn’t much they could do about it.

Or so they said.

But how many sleepless dawns after patrol had Peter spent - huddled under blankets in front of a glaring screen, scouring his way through Friday’s systems, keying in every code, every digit he thought would lead him to the right answer. Something, anything that he could work with.

Two months, twenty days and twelve hours later, he found it. The answer. Or at least, a part of it.

 It wasn’t pretty.

He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew that The Winter Soldier wasn’t Bucky, that the man in the video was just Hydra’s brainwashed lackey, that the Bucky he was familiar with would never consent to do anything remotely similar to what he had seen him do. He knew this, and yet some nights still found him jolting awake in a sea of his own sweat; May’s gasps echoing Maria Stark’s dying wheeze, Howard and Tony Stark’s pleas morphing into one, cold unflinching gaze haunting all the moments he fell quiescent. 

In the moments that he was restless, however, Peter resumed his search. He ploughed through the frights and horrors and sleepless dawns even more frenetically than he first did, because if he didn’t get to the bottom of this, no one else would. Because he knew there was more than just ‘The Winter Soldier murdered Mr. Stark’s parents’; there was always more.

Because what use was a team, if all its splintered souls did nothing to embrace their blemishes?

*

“Hey, Pete.”

 “Hm?”

“Wanna’ skip out on the theater gig tonight?” Alloyed fingers drummed idly on the lab table. “We could stay in here for a bit, work on those web-shooter combinations. Could order some tacos. Or pizza. Your choice.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Thought it was supposed to be tradition.”

“Yeah, I’m getting kinda’ sick of Rogers' princess movie obsession,” His eyes drifted upwards, thumbs twiddling. “You could go, though. If you want.”

Peter pulled back without missing a beat, eyes widening in comical fashion. “No, are you crazy? Lab night with pizza? When do I ever turn that down, Mr. Stark?”

An honest grin slid across Mr. Stark’s features. “Never.”

“That’s right.” Peter closed his eyes, leaning into the touch rifling through his unkempt locks. “Never.”

*

It didn’t make sense.

Did you know?

I didn’t know it was him.

Don’t bullshit me, Rogers!

Yes.

Peter watched, and still, nothing made sense.

He’s my friend.

So was I.

It. didn’t. make. sense.

*

Blinding white tore across the starless city sky in sharp erratic bursts, heated claws threatening to eliminate all in its path with each stroke of rampant rage. Ice-cold rivulets knocked mercilessly against bare skin, freezing the seconds ticking by as raddled sneakers thrummed upon asphalt, each reverberating cadence in perfect harmony with the furious anthem of unvoiced justice pumping through his veins.

Said anthem soared ever the more when the Captain’s door flung open, pounding hard at the seemingly bewildered face meeting his view.

"Peter? What's wrong?" The golden boy scanned him up and down, concern thick in his tone. "Why aren't you in your suit? Did something happ-"

Peter threw the answer up in his face, letting the phone explain everything as he panted over bent knees. The stark silence that ensued spoke for itself.

"Stevie, what's- oh." Him. No, Bucky. "Peter. You're- why don't we all come inside, yeah? Rain's pouring out here." The voice, so tender, not like. Not like him. Not. Him."I'll put the kettle on."

Which was how Peter ended up in one of Bucky's oversized shirts, settled opposite two war veterans, hands cupped round a mug of hot chocolate and eyes cast in a blatant show of quiet outrage.

"Explain," The anthem burned strong in him.

"Son-"

"Don't call me son."

"-this was all on me, alright?" Dejected tone, blonde head bowed over clasped hands.

Good.

“I- we disagreed on the Accords because-”

“I don’t care about that, Captain,” Peter set the mug down, flexing his fingers mechanically. “The Accords was rigged to begin with. Whatever that came after, shouldn’t be put on anyone but Ross, that I get.” He pressed a finger to the cracked screen of his phone. “No Captain, I’m talking about this.”

Captain Rogers stared at him with eyes so blue, but like the sick man in the video pointed out, there was a hint of green in that blue. A flaw.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” The captain leaned back into his seat, where Bucky’s prosthetic arm (that Tony Stark built for him) was stretched rigidly upon. “I thought that by not telling him, I was sparing him from the sorrow. But really, I was just sparing myself. I- I never meant for him to get hurt. And I’m sure, neither did he.”

Oddly, that last sentence was what pushed Peter over the edge.

 “Neither did he?” His jaw clenched. “Neither did- are you seriously saying that right now? Of course he didn’t mean to hurt you! If he had any control over the situation, any control of the information that you withheld from him, he would not have done that.”

 “I know, Peter.”

 “Do you?” He hissed. “Do you really? Do you know the pain of losing your parents, of not knowing what the hell happened to them except that ‘They died in an accident’? Do you know the want, the pure want, to kill the piece of shit that took their lives, that walked free as you mourned their deaths? That ripped them from you, before you even got to know them?” His fists shook in tandem with the throbbing crescendo of his anthem. “Do you know, how Mr. Stark fought for you behind the scenes? How he wrote and rewrote proposals to alter The Accords, only to be rejected by Ross time and time again? How he hired lawyers and sometimes personally went to vouch for the others in the Raft? How he lost sleep at night, how he drank himself into oblivion, whimpering your name, begging me each time not to tell Mrs. Pepper or Rhodes, because apparently, it didn’t matter?”

 Captain Rogers stiffened in his seat.

“Do you know?”

 “No, son.”

 “I’m not your son.”

 Bucky remained a stock still statue by the Captain’s side.

 Peter sighed, shoulders sagging. Deep breath, calm down. “Sorry.” The lingering pulse of anguish pushed to the back of his mind. “That was uncalled for. Sorry. ”

 “Don’t be.” Bucky replied with haste.

 Peter made another haphazard gesture towards their object of discussion. “Did you guys ever try talking to him about this?”

 “I wrote him a letter.”

 “Yeah, and sent him a burner phone, I know.” Peter snapped, tone sharp. “Scintillating ultimatum you gave him, by the way. He broke it in his fists after two whole months of drinking and staring.”

 “Sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, Cap,” His fingers tapped the mug handle almost frantically. “Say that to Tony. He needs to hear it.”

 “It’s only two years for you, Peter, but it’s been seven for us. He might’ve- he might not want to hear about this anymore. We’re fine like this.”

 “Bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t notice the way you both act with each other. You guys really need to solve this shit,” Peter mulled over his words, before adding, “By solve, I mean talk about it. Not punch the living daylights out of each other.”

 Captain Rogers shrugged hopelessly. “We don’t talk about things like this. It’ll just escalate, and then we’d be throwing fists all over again. Might as well get that done without scarring our hearts more than it already has been.”

 “Are you serious?” Muted wrath threatened to positively devour the mug in his hands. “Dude, we could have lost Tony in that war. He could have snapped his fingers, and that would have been the last we saw of him. Would you have lived with this then? Not talking about this, because neither of you can stop feeding your very physical ego for one goddamn second? Because neither of you were brave enough to listen?”

 Again, the stark silence spoke for itself.

 “You need to talk about this.”

 “Look, son-”

 “Damn it, Cap!” Peter roared, fists banging against the table. “Call me son one more time!” The mad beast reared its horrendous head, yanking his vocal chords to unrivalled heights, fuelled by the heated flames that grew larger and fiercer with each thunderous beat. It fed off the tension, the visceral need to rip, maw and absolutely pulverise anything and everything that it could find.

 Reddened eyes, full of tears unshed, reflected one another transparently.

 He couldn’t take this anymore.

 “Honestly,” He stood, mug left untouched, voice barely over a whisper. “With all due respect, Captain Rogers. You’re a fucking dick.”

 Peter left, door slam behind him, along with Captain’s echoed ‘Wait!’ and Bucky’s muted ‘Kid’s got a point, Steve.’

*

Peter thought that if he found the answer, everything would make sense. Or, at the very least, he would feel better about things not making sense.

 Clearly, he had been wrong.

 The first night he stopped searching, his phone rang like the house was on fire.

 Mr. Stark had been the first to call. Followed by Colonel Rhodes, then Bucky, then Captain Rogers, then Dr. Banner, and then subsequently the rest of what his team was supposed to consist of.

 He refused to answer. He didn’t care if his phone burst from being called 24/7. He didn’t care.

 Instead, he spent the rest of his time doing what he did best - he looked out for the little guy. He threw himself in front of cars inches away from crashing into one another, saved kittens from trees, taught children how to look both ways before crossing the street, spent time with that tired old man sitting alone on the park bench every week.

And when he wasn’t doing this, he was with May. May and Happy, sometimes, but mostly May.

 He did his homework, with May. He had breakfast, lunch and essentially all his meals, with May. He watched those cheesy soap operas he missed, with May. He did all the things he longed to do, mourning the years that he lost, with May.

 “Are you okay, baby?”

 Maybe it was her firm arms cradling his head, maybe it was her tentative whisper, but there was something about hearing May calling him baby that made a lump form in his throat.

 “I don’t know.”

 May hummed. “Do you want to talk to Tony about it?”

 “No,” Peter sniffed. “Not for now.”

 “Okay, baby,” May rubbed the back of his neck in a way that only she knew how. “That’s okay.”

 He stopped going for movies and lab nights on the weekends.

 *

bucko (4:03 a.m.) : Hey punk, stevie and tony talked it out for a while. wasn’t pretty but, it was necessary, I think. you’re a legend, kid

 coolestdoctorr(4:23 a.m.): I heard what you did. We all needed that to happen eventually. Thank you for being the bravest of us, for acknowledging our flaws and for bringing our team together as best as you can. Take as much rest as you need, and if you need someone to talk to, I’m happy to listen. Stay safe, and we love you.

 warmachineROX (4:29 a.m.): you did great, Peter. I’m sorry i said you couldn’t do this; those boys really needed a nudge. Thanks for doing what you did. Take care, kid.

 so-you-got-detention (4:28 p.m.): Peter, I don’t think there’s anything I can say except I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have talked with him about this 7 years ago. I spent a couple long hours with Tony earlier this weekend. That hardly made up for anything, but we’ll work it out. Things aren’t perfect, we’ll get it better. We have you to thank for that. I know you’re angry with me, which you have every right to be, but know that if you ever need help, just call me. I’ll be there.

 he’s stark, tony stark (5:01 p.m.): b at ur place in 5 mins[sunglasses emoji]

 *

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, kid.”

“Steve mad at me?”

“Definitely not.”

“...You mad at me?”

A pause. “Not really, no,” Mr. Stark rubbed the side of his chin, tilting his head towards Peter. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter felt his lips shiver against his teeth, sheen of moist clouding his vision, head bowed low and voice crackling, “It does.”

Arms, one alloyed and the other so very real, quietly rolled themselves round his trembling frame, guiding his head towards the steady rise and fall of his hero’s chest, flesh thumb rubbing slow circles over his back, whispers of soft nothings soothing his hair and eventually, a light peck on the forehead.

They stayed like that for a while, beside Peter’s unmade bed, melancholic warmth emanating like cool salve on an open wound. It was comforting, that lack of sound, that silence that spoke the thousand words they couldn’t.

And then, the patented smirk. “You did good, kid,” His tone, so fond. “Friday probably thinks otherwise, though. She’s a little pissed, I think. Kudos for that, by the way. Real sneaky.”

Purely on a whim, Peter snorted, “Love you too, Tony.”

For a moment, it looked as though Tony might just melt into an emotional puddle of goo. Thankfully, he didn’t; Peter wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath, squeezed Peter closer to his heart, and in a voice smaller than Peter had ever heard, muttered,“Lab night this Sunday?”

Peter, in all his glorious mess of tears and snot, broke into a wobbly laugh.

*

Always.

[mostfacinorous]

Stoki Whumptober Day 28: Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops. [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27]

Loki didn’t make it very far; he had nowhere to go, really, and so ended up hiding elsewhere in the park they had landed in-- near enough that he could see the tower, where everyone on Earth who knew him was no doubt huddled to discuss what to make of him now that they had parted ways. 

It was nearing morning, and though it was chilly, it was nowhere near so cold as it had been in those woods. He kept walking, retreading the steps he’d been taking since he saw Steve walk away.

It was ridiculous, he knew. He needed to make a decision, choose where to go next, what to do with himself next. 

He’d had plans, for the stone. He’d been an idiot to give it up like that. But then, he had no idea how much of history their little jaunt had changed here on Midgard. He had no real idea how much his plans to bring Frigga back would have changed, on Asgard. 

But there was part of him that wanted to stick around-- to lay low while keeping an eye on Steve to be sure he didn’t suffer any ill effects from having spent so much time with Loki. To be sure his friends didn’t suspect or reject him, and to give Thor time to go back home, after Loki didn’t immediately do anything overtly evil and eye catching.

And so, with that goal in mind, he was skulking in the shadow of Avengers tower when he caught wind of trouble. 

Trouble, in this case, appeared to be three men with other means of time distortion, who were interested in the stone for themselves. 

Loki mentally slapped himself. 

He’d used the stone, without Steve’s understanding or consent, to make a huge leap, and there had been immediate consequences in the form of shutting down power. Of course there would be those who could determine the source, and of course they would come looking for the stone. 

The stone that Loki had handed Steve in a fit of self loathing. 

And now he was unprepared and these three were after him, and who knew who else might be on their way or already here. 

But at least, Loki thought, he was surrounded by his friends, the heroes-- it meant he was safer than he would be alone. 

Only, when Loki made his way invisibly up to the floors he’d been accustomed to visiting, he found himself pinned to the wall with Barnes’s metal arm.

“Show yourself.” He snarled, followed, almost immediately by, “What the hell did you do with Steve? Where is he?” 

Loki raised his hands, showing he meant not to fight back. 

“I thought he returned to you last night. I came looking for him myself-- to warn him. He has the stone, and he’s being hunted.”

Barnes let go of his hold on Loki’s throat and stepped back, watching him wearily. 

“JARVIS, is Steve in the building?” Barnes asked, eyes not leaving Loki’s. 

“No sir. Captain Rogers has been missing since the attack two nights ago.” 

Loki frowned. 

“We returned last night-- the power outage. We have to find him.” Loki turned around and walked back the way he’d come, and Barnes stumbled to keep up. 

“I am going to follow those who are tracking the stone. With any luck it will lead me to him. You gather your friends; I will be in touch in the event that we need backup. I’ll see him returned safely; I swear it.” Loki said, giving Barnes no time to interrupt or try to stop him. 

“Got it.” He ground out, surprising Loki almost into stopping. But Barnes was already reversing course and talking to the AI about summoning the others, so Loki left it be. 

He had more important things to focus on. 

Like where Steve had gone, the night before, after Loki had left him. 

Loki located the three men he’d noticed before with relative ease, and he studied their devices invisibly-- Steve was still, and close, and they were on their way to him. 

Loki wouldn’t have it, and made short work of the men, before they could think to react, a knife in each of the first two’s backs, and a growled question in the ear of the third with a knife at his neck: “Who sent you? Are there more?”

“The Collector. It’s-- it’s just us!”

Loki considered letting him go, sending back a message to the Collector, but he was familiar with the man-- ancient and powerful and stubborn. If he was told not to do something, it would make him go after it all the harder. 

And so Loki slit his throat and let him fall, hoping the Collector might forget or lose interest, if he simply never heard back. 

Loki recovered their tracker and followed it to an alley. 

“You know, when I said you had better options, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” Loki drawled, to hide his nervousness. 

He found Steve with his back to the wall, sitting down, head hanging. Immediately, he dropped the act. 

“Steve?” 

Steve looked up, his face exhausted and bruised. But he saw Loki, and smiled. 

Then immediately winced at the pain it caused. 

“Good t’see you.” He said, and Loki realized his lip was swollen as well. 

“It looks like someone really did a number on you.” Loki said, kneeling to get on a level with him. 

“Y’should see the other guy.” 

Loki shook his head. “I’m sorry; I didn’t think. They’re after the stone, again.”

“Yeah, figured that out m’self.” 

“Why did you not call for your friends, your team?” Loki felt like he was whining, trying to make sense of it. 

“I was looking for you, didn’t think you’d let me find you if I had them with me.” 

Loki had to concede he might have been right, but that didn’t make it any better. He felt guilt worming through his gut. 

“Well, I went to them this morning, looking for you when I discovered several men searching for the stone.” 

Steve looked up, alarmed, and his eyes flicked behind Loki, towards the mouth of the alley. 

“It’s alright. I saw to them already. But we should get you back to the tower. They were worried enough when we disappeared. When I returned without you…” He trailed off, and Steve winced again. 

“Yeah, alright.” Steve spoke as he began to stand, then sucked in a pained gasp, and Loki caught him before he could fall back down, fully. 

“I will carry you.” Loki said firmly, and when Steve opened his mouth to object, Loki shook his head. “Those are ribs, Steve, and your healing can only do so much. Come, let’s get you back.” 

He lifted Steve and got him into a bride’s carry. 

“Have you your phone?” Loki asked. 

Steve patted at his pocket. 

“Good. Let them know we are coming. I don’t want to be attacked for the state of you.” 

Steve sighed, but fished the phone out, and Loki turned all eyes away from them as he made his way back, once more, into the den of his former enemies, for this man.

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 1

Characters: Vira, Vlad, Charles, Faust + some main cast

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​

A/N: Have my most recent Ikevamp OC! I realize that I have only posted 2 of my many ocs for this game so I am remedying that with this series! Note that this story is much darker than my other series, and will have adult content (next chapter and forward) and descriptive violence and gore, possibly even torture. It’s dark my friends.

WARNINGS: 18+ Violence and Descriptive Gore

 Metallic warmth coated her pale lips and slipped passed to spread across her tongue, like finding a single droplet of water after a century in the blazing heat of the desert that left her achingly parched. Stiff limbs regaining their ability to feel as the blood coated her throat, slowly giving life to that which had been rendered inanimate for an inhumanly amount of time.

Golden eyes opened for the first time in too long, unfocused, and blurry but the sight of simply the crumbling concrete ceiling of the mausoleum made her tingle with excitement. Her tongue slithered past her cracked lips to swipe away the last bit of blood that stained her red.

“Easy, Vira. You’ve plenty of time to regain your strength.”

Her lashes fluttered, words unable to escape her mouth that refused to work, too weak. The only thing that her voice could make was raspy, guttural laughter from deep within. Resurrected by Vlad, not her own father, boded well for her to return to Paris and paint it a gloriously deep crimson.

What fun would she soon have with this newfound freedom from eternal, restless slumber.

******

“Uncle Vlad, I’m grateful that you resurrected me. I’ll assume my father has no idea you’ve found me,” Vira sat upright on the slab of stone that used to be her resting place, the small vial of blood drained completely into her body and giving it the strength she once lacked. Though not blood related, the girl had spent so much time with the older vampire that she’d grown quite fond of him as part of her family. After all, he had been the one to side with her, believe in her, and allow her all the fun her heart desired.

The white-haired vampire extended his hand to her as his head shook in answer to question. Of course, her father couldn’t know of his plans to bring the child back, or he’d surely have hidden her body somewhere less likely to be discovered. “My apologies that you had to endure such cruel torture from him, and that I couldn’t rescue you sooner.”

Vira placed her dainty hand in his, accepting the assistance in standing. The amount of blood given to her not near enough to quench the painful thirst of a century without that vital nectar. Golden eyes flickered to the two lingering by the entrance to the mausoleum. “Can I drain them?”

“We are vampires ourselves, under Lord Vlad.” The taller one spoke with gruff and disdain. Though stories had been told of this wicked vampire, the priest found her lacking of the pedestal that he’d perceived her to be placed on. A dainty little thing, perfect for experimentation.

“So? Blood is blood, and I’m terribly thirsty.”

Vlad tightened his grip on her hand after the first malicious step she took toward them. “Faust, there’s no need to antagonize her. And Vira, darling, refrain from killing what’s mine or I’ll have to punish you.” The point pushed by the pain from the bones in her hand nearing their breaking point.

The girl gave a resigned sigh with a pout on her lips. “Breaking my bones isn’t necessary, Uncle Vlad. I wouldn’t do anything to harm those that you are fond of. All you need is to tell me.” Her head tilted to the side and the pout disappeared, slipping into a crooked smile. How long it had been since she last felt pain. Truthfully, it sent a shiver down her entire body to be on the brink of such an excruciating feeling. “Although, even if you say I shouldn’t visit my dear father, I won’t be able to resist. I owe him a little chaos for leaving me here.”

Flashes of that night arose from her deepest memories. Hours upon hours of dripping crimson blood onto the floor, not from her doing but spilled from her body. A rancid smell as the feeling in herself faded into a sedated, comatose state. By his hand.

Vira took in a deep breath once outside the crusty mausoleum that sat atop a hill far outside of the city of Paris. Land owned by the oldest vampire families and the burial ground for their beloved pet humans and outcast members that had been subjected to the same punishment that had befell her. Some especially dangerous were encased and hidden for none to discover.

The chilled wind crept over her form as if welcoming her back into the world with it’s harsh, frigid bite against pale skin. Leaves rattled in the trees like a fanfare. Moonlight reflecting in golden orbs shimmering with newfound purpose and an ungodly lust for the taste of human blood. It thrummed in her ears, even from this distance. A world of delectable decadence in the unsuspecting town that the vampire wished to indulge herself in.

“I’ve prepared a room for you at my home, whenever you’ve had your fill of fun tonight.” Vlad chuckled at her longing expression. First, she’d feed on a handful of unfortunate souls and then pay her visit to his longtime friend before scuttling home to him. Her mood would surely be lifted after this excursion and he could speak of his plans.

Vira adventured out into the night, like a grim reaper descending on the innocent townspeople out only to drink and be merry. Picking them off one by one, the little sheep falling prey to the frightfully starving wolf. The throbbing of their veins as her sharp fangs pierced their corroded paired with the thumping of their rapid heartbeat only drove her to find more humans to drain.

The struggling fizzled out, even the strongest of men unable to overpower the slight vampire. Pinning them against the rough brick wall of the alley, digging her knee into their stomach to keep them steady. The bite causing them to spiral into a state of surreal pleasure even as she gulped down their delectable, warm blood.

Golden irises reflected in their fear-stricken eyes. Her tongue sliding across crimson stained lips. Vira spent time with them, bringing them down from their high with a snap of one of their bones, only to sink in her fangs again to mask the pain with unbelievable euphoria. A shiver snaking down her own body. Their cries of pain and pleasure so delicious.

When their life ebbed away, she disposed of them by letting their bodies crumple to the ground, left in the dark alley to rot with the trash.

In a hazy state of ecstasy, Vira turned her sights on the mansion outside of town. Her strength fully returned; color brought back to her pale skin. Perhaps by morning, she’d dye the sky the same deep crimson that stained the streets of Paris.

The door unlocked. Quite dangerous, but it only proved that he believed no ill intent would come this far. What did vampires have to fear from weak humans? Vira took a deep breath. Fresh food of all varieties, a handful of lesser vampires gathered closely, and him.

Her hands trembled in anticipation. The prospect of destroying the picturesque evening and seeing how he’ll react. Will he be angry? Or maybe she’ll get a real treat and see utter despair and heart break. Her body was alight with tingly eagerness.

Once upon a time, she’d resided in this very mansion. Walking these halls, seeing little changes save for the gaggle of lesser vampires leaving their scent heavily over the house, it ignited the desire to watch it burn and crumble.

Tugging the door open, all the attention fell onto her. The eight seated around the table wearing varying degrees of confusion across their feature. Neither of the two who knew her were present.

What fun!

“Mademoiselle, how did you come to find this mansion?” The butler asked, hiding the deeper question behind a feigned smile. Why did you enter without permission? A human. His scent strong enough to wet her mouth with appetite that should have been filled after the jaunt in town.

Her desire for blood never truly satiated. Vira brought a lazy smile to her lips. Humans were less intimidated by friendly demeanor, weren’t they?

Maybe just a little...

“I shall inform M. Le Comte of an unexpected guest.”

Vira halted, head falling to the side at his words. Golden eyes sweeping over the array of utensils perfectly placed for each dish. His steps echoed in time with the beating of his heart.

“Are you a friend of Comte’s?” A gentle voice spoke from beside her. Cerulean blue eyes holding no amount of ill intent, only genuine curiosity.  

She was hot. Every fiber of her being reacting to that name like fiery lava about to erupt from the depths of a volcano. Rage like acid, burning and potent enough to disintegrate anything that dared enter her path.

The large bird awaiting to be carved supplied two tools. A slicing knife sharpened to easily slice the meat, and a two-pronged carving fork to hold it steady. 

They sounded friendly. As if they liked the damn man.

Vira jabbed the prongs down into the blonde man’s hand until it refused to sink further than the wooden table, freshly spilled blood filling her nostrils. Even vampire’s blood could be tasty when was spilled in tandem with pain.

She could hardly enjoy the cry of agony.

Chaos erupted around her, their movements like wading through thick tar in her vision. All drowned out by the pounding in her head. Wrath scorching, like fire lighting in her veins. Narrowed eyes locked onto the butler that nearly escaped her grasp but not quite quick enough. The knife embedded into the inside of his shoulder blade.

“Sit. Down.” Words hissed at anyone who dared to defy the insanity that had waltzed into their home that evening. Golden irises aflame.

They deserved to be hurt, broken, shredded into tiny pieces. Skinned down to their bones, muscles and tendons carved off their bodies. Rip their eyes from their sockets, and force them to devour it, choke on its bloody sinews. 

“Broer!” A foreign tongue roared from beside her. He towered over her small form, his own anger only that of a spark compared to the seething rage that radiated from the girl.

Vira caught his arm as his elbow thrust into her chest, drawing her ire upon him. Her strength far outweighed any lesser vampire. Like the snapping of a twig, she twisted his forearm back. The sickening crack of the bone breaking into two pieces wasn’t the end.

It didn’t satisfy her at all.

As the man sank to his knees in absolute agony. Her foot slammed into his side, leveraging her to pull the broken limb taught. “Would you like me to rip it off? I wonder which will give first. The mangled bone or the shoulder. Let’s find out-”

“Stop this madness!” Blade pressed against her throat; the soldier spoke with such authority he managed to gain her attention.

Her head lolled back, black, and red strands of hair falling away from her face. A devilish grin on her lips. “Are you planning to slice open my throat if I don’t? It’s too bad you wouldn’t be the first to do so.” Releasing the man like a child dropping a toy they’d lost interest in, Vira shifted her body to face the newcomer. 

The tip of his blade digging into her shoulder, intentionally done by her. Jade green eyes narrowed, standing his ground against the girl. “You’ve no place in this home.”

Wide-eyed, Vira burst out laughing, the sound off put by the whining and groaning of the three indisposed men. He’d only confirmed what she suspected that he had locked her away like an ill-kept secret, a skeleton in his closet that he planned to hide for the rest of eternity. “You aren’t his family. You’re his pieces on a chess board, pawns to be used to cure his boredom of immortality.” 

She shoved the sword away with her palm, letting it cut into her skin. The feeling of pain sending a shiver over her being. Calculated steps, quick and unread, the pureblood had the man shoved against the wall. Fangs sunk into his neck.

Whatever he may be, his blood unlike anything that she’d tasted previously. Not fully human, but not quite vampire, some abomination in between the two species, lost in limbo of life and death. Her eyes rolled back as a moan rumbled in her throat. Every last drop.

A rough hand gripped the back of her neck, throwing the girl away from her prey before she could fully take his life. Her body thumping against the floor, knocking all the air from her lungs. “How rude, Leo. I wasn’t finished.” Her crimson coated tongue swiped a missed droplet off her chin.

“You haven’t changed, cara mia. I thought that Comte had banished you.” Leonardo narrowed his eyes, supporting the weakened soldier who could barely stand.

“Banished? Oh, if only.” Vira climbed back to her feet, brushing her hands together as she checked for any injuries. To her dismay, no broken bones to play with. “But, why ruin the surprise. He’ll admit to his sins in due time. I only came by to say a little hello.” Her gaze swept across the dining hall.

Leonardo shot a warning glance at the others, silently telling them to stay back. He’d witnessed her handy work firsthand, and this had barely scratched the surface of her twisted pleasures. “I’ll be sure to pass along that you were here, Vira.”

“He couldn’t even bother to be here when his precious daughter comes home after centuries? Aww.” A pout set on her lips as she whined, as if all her work had been for naught. She’d craved to see his reaction to her revival. “Do tell him that this is just the beginning.”

She’d savor it another time.

Vira flashed a wry grin at the residents before turning on her heel to exit. Her hand rested on the knob. “Till next time.” She tossed the words over her shoulder with a wink and malicious smirk.

There were so many to play with, it would be difficult to choose.

Ah, but it hardly mattered. Any playmate will suffice. All they need do is bleed and cry out in pain.

Returning to her Uncle Vlad’s castle, her hums echoed down the empty corridors. Her bloodied clothes littered around, like a trail of clues leading straight to the culprit. Her steps light and airy, like a ghost dancing through the moonlight that bathed her pale skin.

High. Hazy. Tingling with desire and need. Her eyes slid closed, replaying the sight of their blood and their pained expressions bringing a soft moan to her throat. The whines and screams, the slicing of her own skin by the sharp blade. It electrified her nerves, leaving her wound tightly and longing for more release.

Golden eyes met with pale green ones.

That will do.

[vannahfanfics]

Waste the Night Away

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hanta Sero, Ochako Uraraka

Additional Tags: Mermaid AU

Hello, everybody! This is another piece for @bnhabookclub‘s MerMay event, this time for the prompt “Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night”! 

This is also a present for my lovely beta-reader and number-one supporter @deliathedork. I love you dearest! You certainly make all my hard work worth it! <3 Enjoy!

“Needless to say, I keep her in check! She was a bad-bad, nevertheless-! Callin’ it quits, da dunna dun duh…” Hanta sang along to the music pumping in his headphones as he jaunted along the concrete sidewalk. He punctuated the words with very exaggerated motions, earning him quite a few concerned glances from passersby; not that he noticed, because he had his eyes closed as he skipped a few steps flapping his arms like a chicken. “Then you’re left in the dust-! Unless I stuck by yaaaaaaa! You’re a sunflowwwwwwer! I think your love would be too much!” he yowled and spun around a light pole on the corner before hopping off and scooting a few more steps down the sloping sidewalk.

It was about seven o’clock in the evening, and Hanta was on his way home from a riotous day of videogames at Denki’s house. Hanta had proudly obliterated Denki, Katsuki, Eijirou, and surprise guest Fumikage at Super Smash Bros. Needless to say, he was still riding the victory high- so much so that he had elected to walk home rather than take the bus. The night was pleasantly chilly, just enough to stave off the heat from all his wild dancing, and a few of the stars were visible between the wispy gray clouds trawling over the inky expanse of the night sky. The evening was still young, so as he jitterbugged his way through town, he distantly wondered what he was going to do for the rest of it.

“I can hear you tellin’ me to turn around! Fightin’ for my trust, and you won’t back down! Da dunna dun duh, da dunna dun da…” he clumsily sang as he hopped over the curb to jaywalk across an empty street. He trotted down another incline, which led to his shortcut- a waterway that traveled the length of a series of highway overpasses. The watercourse siphoned excess water away from the city reservoir; it had rained a considerable amount lately, so the freshwater was lapping up at the edges of the levee. The splashing and gurgling of the water served as an accompaniment to his performance while he strolled along, occasionally stopping to kick his legs or punch the air energetically. “You’re the sunflowwwwwer! You’re the sunflower!” he howled again, skipping to the edge of the levee and shaking his hips, before the song ended. He then wrenched his headphones off his ears to rest them around his neck and released a self-satisfied sigh, placing his hands on his hips and staring out at the canal.

Hanta always took a moment to appreciate the view when he came this way, if the water level was high enough. It was extraordinarily breathtaking when the stars were out. Light sparkled across the gently sloshing waves like millions of diamonds. Just above the concrete slopes of the other side of the levee, through a rusted chain-link fence, spread the expanse of the city; gold lights floated like orbs in the distance, emanating from streetlights and houses and businesses. If he squinted, he could make out the reds and green of traffic stops as well, or the flickering neon flashes of animated billboards. He could not hear the deafening noise pollution of civilization, though, aside from the humming of car engines bouncing down from the highway half a mile from where he stood. No, the sounds of nature reigned- the babbling of the water, the chirping of the crickets in the bunches of weeds springing up from the cracked sidewalk, the baying of stray hounds and the hooting of the barn owl that nested in the crooked old tree beyond the fence. He closed his eyes as he drank it all in. The bubbling. The chirping. The howling. The hooting. The little muffled whimpers for help-

Wait a second.

Hanta’s eyes snapped open, and he strained his ears to make sure he had indeed heard what he thought he had. Sure enough, floating down the waterway from his right were small, stifled squeaks and sobs. Someone needs help! He took off down the sidewalk, whipping out his phone to turn on the flashlight. A bright circle of white illuminated the stone construct before him, and he swung his phone side to side wildly to check every square inch of space.

“Hello? Who’s out here? Do you need help?” he called, cupping a hand to his mouth to increase the volume. The noises ceased for a moment, and he worried that he might have frightened them off. “Don’t be scared! I just wanna help you!” He remained still aside from his slightly ragged breaths, eyes searching the dark and ears straining the fresh night air for any sound, any at all.

“… Please help me.” The plea was meek, but close, close enough for him to tell it was a girl. A million deplorable scenarios flew through his mind at once, but he forbade himself to settle on any of them; instead, he focused on picking his way down the slick slope to where he thought the voice originated from. Suddenly, the disc of light from his phone’s flashlight puddled over a caramel-haired, brown-eyed girl with her body half in the water.

“What the shit?!” Hanta panted under his breath. He cried out as the sole of his sneaker slipped over the wet rock, and he sank into a split. He let out a shrill whine as his thigh and groin muscles strained way past the point they were naturally meant to. His feet scrabbled against the slimy, rocky levee wall until he managed to regain his footing again. Hugging the levee surface, he allowed gravity to slide him the rest of the way down the slope until the toes of his sneakers barely breached the rippling surface of the water. “Don’t worry, miss, I gotcha,” he reassured the frightened girl as she shied away from his sudden presence. He held his phone up so that the light illuminated her fully but also fell on him so she could see his kind smile. “We’re gonna get you back up just… just… fine…”

His words trailed off when he happened to look down at her lower half, which rested in the water. It was just instinctual. He hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, given the situation; he could have discovered any number of sickening or unsavory things. What he discovered was not sickening or unsavory, but downright befuddling. Rather than human legs, the lower half of the girl’s body was in the form of a bubblegum pink, scaly fishtail, with thin, curving fins like a flying fish. Hanta stared incredulously at the appendage for a few seconds before he realized why the girl- mermaid, rather- had been crying out for help. Wrapped around her tail were industrial-sized plastic rings. The hard edges were digging into the flesh, slicing right through the hard scales to cause blood and effluent to ooze out. The mermaid stared fearfully at him the entire time.

“Right! Uh, knife, I need a knife,” he mumbled and began patting his pockets in search of his Swiss Army knife. One never knew when one needed a particular tool, so Hanta had always made a point to keep one on his person. He never dreamed he would be using it to cut some plastic off a mermaid, though.

“Ah-ha!” he grinned triumphantly when he finally tugged it out of his back pocket. He flashed a reassuring smile at the mermaid. “Don’t worry, Miss Mermaid. I’mma have you free in a jiffy.”

“Erm… Thank you,” she flushed shyly and dropped her gaze. Hanta then realized he would need two hands to cut her free, so he grinned bashfully at her.

“Er, would you mind, uh, holding this for me?” he asked with a shake of his smartphone. She stared curiously at the device and gave an unsure nod, reaching up with her small hands to take it. “Just keep that light pointed on your tail- Jesus Christ, she has a tail- uh, keep it pointed there so I can see.” Obediently, she turned the phone so that the flashlight kept her tail illuminated. Hanta bit down on his bottom lip as he hunched over the appendage to begin cutting the plastic loose.

Some areas were more accessible than others; in several places, the plastic was lodged half an inch down in the meat of her tail. He felt pangs of guilt every time the poor thing yelped with pain when he would dig his fingertip into the gaping wound to pry it out. She began to squirm around and sob pitifully, so he decided to try and distract her from the discomfort. “My name’s Hanta. Sero Hanta,” he informed her with a quick smile. “What about you? Do you have a name like humans?”

“In your language, it would be Ochako. Uraraka Ochako.”

“Cute name, cute name.” He winced when she whimpered again, for he was digging into a rather deep laceration to force out some clinging particles of the stretchy plastic. “How did you even do this?” he muttered disparagingly. He glanced at her face to see her eyes tearing up and a self-pitying pout making her lips quiver.

“I just swam into it like a big dummy… I freaked out trying to get it off, and next thing I knew, I was up in this channel. I got it all tangled with my fins, so it was getting hard to swim…” She used to her free hand to wipe at the tears glittering on her brown lashes. “I thought I was gonna be stuck here forever…”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it! Good thing I happened upon you, huh?” he interjected as she began to cry piteously. He probably shouldn’t have delved too much into the backstory. A bright idea struck him like a thunderbolt, and he wrenched off his headphones to stick them over her ears. “Here! Listen to this, and it won’t hurt as much,” he instructed her and tapped on his phone screen to restart the music. Her eyes went wider than the full moon above as the music began blasting in her ears. The tears ceased leaking down, and slowly, she began bobbing her head a little. Hanta beamed widely, pleased his clever plan worked, and resumed cutting at the plastic. He gave the mermaid an amused side-eye as she began humming along to the tune.

Once he had tossed the last bit of the plastic up onto the top of the levee, Ochako gave her tail an experimental flap. She flushed pink and slapped her hand to her mouth as she involuntarily splashed water all down his front and into his face. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’s just water,” he laughed mirthfully when she began to squeak apologies. “It’ll dry,” he purred and wrung out his shirt. The water gushed down onto the stone levee with spattering splashes. “Anyway, do you think you can swim now?”

“Yes, I do,” she agreed and lowered the headphones from her ears to glance gratefully down at her tail. Thin lacerations painted red cross-crossing lines in the bright pink flesh, but her fins now fluttered freely. He gawked in awe at the realization she could manipulate each one of them voluntarily. She noticed him staring and giggled. “Would you like to touch it?”

“Is that weird?”

“No. Go ahead,” she chuckled. Hanta immediately splayed his palms out over the fishy tail, dark eyes going wide. It wasn’t nearly as slimy as he thought it would be. The scales were a little soft and pliant, feeling like thin discs rolling under his skin. The membranes of her fins were so delicate-looking that he was scared to touch them, but when he did, pinching them between the pads of his forefinger and thumb, they felt like the sheerest lace.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured on reflex. He looked up to see Ochako blushing and bashfully holding a hand to her reddening cheek. Realizing just how embarrassing that was, he hastily retracted his hands and straightened up. “Anywa- Ack!” He had put too much force in the movement and essentially flung himself. He slipped down the rest of the levee to land with a splash in the water. The bank was only about two feet deep, so he could sit there on his rump in the water and grin shyly at the concerned mermaid. “Well, guess now we really don’t have to worry about you splashing me, huh?”

“No,” she agreed with a girlish giggle that made Hanta feel all dreamy-like. Sighing contentedly, he crawled back up onto the levee and reclined against the slope on his back, putting his hands behind his head and bending one knee. “Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night,” he chuckled.

“Me neither,” she laughed and stretched out on her belly beside him. She raised her tail, and as it caught the moonlight, the scales shimmered like thousands of pink opals. Water cascaded down from it like liquid crystal to plop in the water below. Hanta caught himself staring again and returned his attention to her face, finding her smiling warmly.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen a girl- mermaid- as pretty as you.”

“I’m the only mermaid you’ve ever seen.”

“That automatically makes you the prettiest, though!” Ochako laughed loudly at his explanation. He found himself savoring her laugh. It rang out like bright bells, full of cheer and goodness. He rolled onto his side, resting a cheek in his hand. He ignored the way the rough stone scraped his elbow, because he just wanted to keep looking at her. He knew he would probably never see her again, so he sought to get his fill. Ochako tilted her head to the side coyly.

“Hanta?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about the human world.”

So he did. He told her everything his spastic little brain could think of- cars, trains, movie theaters, bubble tea, traffic stops, coffee, videogames, the little old lady next door with the Chihuahua he swore was the spawn of Satan. The amount of information that tumbled from his mouth was disgustingly overwhelming and mind-numbingly mundane. Still, Ochako hung onto every word with the most rapturous expression on her round face. Hanta found himself getting pointlessly excited about it all and was soon sitting straight up, gesturing wildly with his hands. Occasionally, Ochako would pipe up about a counterpart they possessed in the underwater realm, and they would gush about it for a few minutes. They didn’t notice the moon swiftly traveling across the sky, nor the golden lights of the city flickering out one by one. For that brief period, it seemed like time did not exist at all; that waterway was theirs and theirs alone. That little stretch of levee was a dimension beyond all responsibility and borders. They were perfectly content to waste the night away until the dawn came creeping in, flooding the world with its warm light.

The bubble burst when Hanta’s phone began to ring. He grimaced when he noticed it was his mother, and hurriedly picked up, because he’d never hear the end of it if he rejected her call.

“Yeah. Yeah, Mom, I got caught up at Denki’s. I’m all right. I’ll be home soon. Bye.” Ochako was staring at the phone like it was its own life form when he hung up. She then frowned sadly.

“Does this mean you have to go?”

“Unfortunately so,” he sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, then smiled sheepishly at her. “This might sound corny and all, but I’ll never forget you.”

“Why do you say that like you’ll never see me again?” she asked, looking hurt. He blinked stupidly at her and then flushed.

“Well… I mean… Isn’t it dangerous for you to swim up in the canal? You know, getting kidnapped by humans and sold off to a circus and all that?”

“Yeah, but I don’t care.” He reeled in her utter disregard for her safety. She gave him a roguish smile that was ridiculously cute on her round face. “I’ll come back tomorrow!” Hanta made a mental check of his plans to ensure that an excursion to the channel was indeed feasible before nodding excitedly.

“Yeah! But be careful,” he grimaced. She giggled coquettishly and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me.”

“Well, I am a gentleman,” he huffed, puffing out his chest and closing his eyes with a self-possessed smirk. Ochako took advantage of his lapse in security, and the next thing he knew, she had her lips pressed up against his cheek. All his mental processes screeched to a jarring halt, and he just gawked open-mouthed at her with a brainless “Uhhhhhh…” rumbling in his throat. Ochako giggled at his bashful response and shot him another flirty smile.

“See you around. And thanks again!” Before he could think of anything intelligent to say, she dove off the levee into the water. He tried to scramble to his feet. He only succeeded in tumbling back into the water again, this time with his phone in his pocket. His headphones just barely avoided suffering water damage, and he wrenched his phone out of his pocket to hold it aloft, praying that it was true that it was waterproof. He just barely caught a glimpse of Ochako’s bright pink tail swaying underneath the surface of the glittering black water before it faded into the shadows.

“See ya,” he called softly. Though it was impossible, he still fancied that she heard him.

Groaning, he climbed back up the slope of the levee to the flat sidewalk. He shook himself out like a shaggy dog and wrung as much as the water as he could from his clothes, then placed the headphones snugly over his ears. His phone was thankfully working just fine. He started his music back up and began swaying to the beat a little, then took off in a jog down the path leading home.

“Even if we gotta risk it all right now, oh-! I know you're scared of the unknown! You don't wanna be alone! Da da dun dunna dun dun dun… You’re my sunflowwwwer…”

When his mother inquired what the big smile on his face was for, he merely replied that his Saturday night hadn’t been a wasted one.

DISCLAIMER: The rights to “Sunflower” belong to Post Malone. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @mhafandomman @simplybakugou @sadistiks

[done-dm]

Talks Machina Summary: Episodes 76, 77, and Dalen's Closet

In lieu of the usual pre-show entertainment, we were graced with lovely imagery and music from Sounds of the Wildmother Vol. 1.

Announcements

The next episode of Between the Sheets is Monday, September 26 with Felisha Day. The VOD is available the following Wednesday.

There is NO episode of Critical Role this week. There will also be no episode of Talks Machina the following week (because no episode), but the Tavern Keeper Builder livestream will take up that timeslot.

Critrole Stats

Bread was mentioned 52 times in episode 76.

Jester's 100th message spell was cast during episode 77.

Ten days passed between Caleb's first and last conversation with the scourger.

Episode 76 and 77 tie for most dm face palms with 14 each.

Questions

Laura took the longest to come up with Jester's new character art. She drew out the outfit (somewhat poorly) and the artist took it from there. Laura wanted her to look more and more like the Traveler and dress a little more like an adult

Liam wanted Caleb to look less frazzled and more grim/determined in his new character art.

Jester is not aware that sharing your problems is not something to be ashamed of despite helping the other members of the M9 do exactly that. She doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that she has problems in the first place.

Caleb isn't sure that Essek trusts him, and he doesn't really trust Essek either. He thinks Essek has his own reasons for helping Caleb. Essek could be trying to stack up favors, get him under his thumb, acting as a mole, etc.

Jester's perspective on the Traveler has not changed despite her hearing the Traveler's following referred to as a cult.

Caleb feels like the group is clever enough to meet the needs of everyone that they're dealing with (despite the fact that they've been calling in several favors, particularly from Essek). It's a longshot, but he's trying to broker some kind of peace and needs to stay in everyone's good graces in order to do so.

Essek hurt Jester's feelings when he said he had nothing to learn from her. She tried to hide it from the others. Jester doesn't know who she is right now and that's starting to register with her for the first time.

Caleb has been thinking about the Scourgers for years. He wondered what state somebody would be in after years as a Scourger since he escaped that life early. He also wanted to know if anyone who had gone through that was a lost cause (Astrid and Eowulf in particular). There's still a lot of self-loathing, but Caleb understands that he was manipulated. The Scourger he interrogated was younger than him, so if he was any hope for himself he had to offer that to her as well. He also thinks about Yasha and would be quicker to make excuses for her than he would for himself.

Jester fully believes the Gentleman is her father. She thinks he doesn't care about her, but thinks she can convince him that he is her father eventually. She has no plans to tell the others about his refusal to acknowledge her.

Liam mimes using a shake weight. I expect the gifs to be entertaining.

Caleb has a newfound confidence in facing his past now that he has powerful friends, lots of assets, are in the pocket of a queen, etc. Liam wasn't sure where Caleb would be at this point in the campaign. The group is too persuasive as a family for him to walk away and cause Caleb to go down the other paths Liam thought were a possibility.

Jester thinks it's weird that no one else can see the Traveler, but she chalks it up to him being awesome and powerful.

Caleb made himself look like Trent to avoid looking at him and because Trent is enemy #1, so it made sense to Caleb to put that on hinself.

Jester's main example of people helping others is her mom, so she tries to emulate that: hence the motherly behavior towards her friends in the more recent episodes.

There was a question about Caleb's use of the transmuter's stone that I totally missed, whoops!

Jester expects the Traveler Con to be a really awesome celebration where she will be asked to host a few panels. Although, she obviously doesn't know all the details yet.

Liam pulled that line about the porcelain cats out of his ass. Now it's cannon that Caleb has 9 of them.

Jester finds it hard to be the messenger that everyone relies on. Scrying on Yasha was particularly difficult for her (considering the recent... incident). Laura is thankful Matt will repeat information instead of only relying solely on Jester's ability to convey it.

Caleb wants dunamancy knowledge for the sake of knowledge and also because he wants to manipulate time.

Jester feels like she's doing a pretty lousy job of getting more followers for the Traveler, especially since Fjord was actively looking for a god to follow.

Dalen's Closet Stats/Questions

Vex is the only member of vox machina to get hdywtdt on both Sylas an Delilah Briarwood.

Grog called Derrig four names other than his actual name during the course of the episode.

Liam did know that Sam intended to make Vax the wedding gift. Sam texted Matt and Liam to be sure they were okay with it first. Liam felt like he was playing Vax as an NPC at this point. Matt has told him a little bit about where Vax is at, but it was up to Liam to decide exactly what Vax was at this point.

Laura says it feels "fucking awesome" to be responsible for the deaths of both Briarwoods. Laura thinks of Vex/Percy and Delilah/Sylas as two side of the same coin since she would "pull a Delilah" if something happened to Percy.

The bone on Vax's shoulder was a physical manifestation of his tattoo of Keyleth's antlers. It was the one part of his humanity the Raven Queen couldn't control.

Liam was inspired by the short story "The Jaunt" when deciding how Vax was going to appear at the wedding. Vax has been gone for a year, but that doesn't mean he's experiencing time the same way as the rest of Vox Machina.

Laura fully thought Vax would come back exactly the same as he was when he died. Liam thought that all of Vax's decisions needed to have consequences.

Laura and Liam both feel like this one shot was the end of Vox Machina's story.

It felt good for Laura and Liam to be "twinsies" again.

Vex would have reacted differently if Vesper was at the wedding instead of alseep. She didn't bring it up to avoid giving Sylas another weakness to exploit.

Liam could accept every other member of Vox Machina dying except for Vex because "he made a deal."

Names of Derrig's family members (please note that I totally guessed on spelling): his wife is Nell; his three girls are Baroni(?), Litan, and Maeve; and his son is named Will.

Sam and Marisha both thought they were Taliesin's/Percy's best man. They told Sam he was next to Vex and he had to rewrite his speech (he had one prepared Percy). Laura didn't write down the wedding vows ahead of time, but did prepare them beforehand .

[fitllivinglifestyle]

Best Hiking in Ireland and Other Unique Irish Adventures

If you want to fully experience one of the most naturally beautiful places in the world then you must go Hiking in Ireland. The rolling green fields, stone fences, savage cliff coastlines and  medieval castles make it one of the most awe inspiring locations for a great hike or country walk. It is one of the greenest place I have hiked in the world, right up there with my home area of the Pacific Northwest and Hiking the Banaue Rice Terraces in the Philippines. Then you have the Irish themselves who are some of the friendliest people you will ever come across. Everywhere you go, whether a city or small village, you will find a pub filled with welcoming  locals, music, dancing and stories of myths and legends. A perfect place to rest your feet and quench your thirst after a day of hiking the Irish hills and valleys. So where do you hike in Ireland? Well the list is almost endless but to get you started I have created a guide to some of the most scenic hiking spots in Ireland and Northern Ireland. Here you will see some of the best this island has to offer while hitting up a few iconic photographic spots as well.  

Best Hiking in Ireland and Other Unique Irish Adventures

1. The Cliffs of Moher

At over 700 feet tall these cliffs are magnificent to view. They are one of the most visited attractions in Ireland and can get busy during peak season. I suggest going early in the morning when they first open. There is a great walk along the cliffs. They do have a small wall barrier but this can be easily hopped over for a full cliff hike experience. Be careful as winds can be very strong when walking too close to the edge. You can literally fill up a whole card of images here. Look below and see the power of mother nature slamming into the walls. Scenes from great movies like The Princess Bride (Cliffs of Insanity) and Harry Potter and the half blood prince have been filmed here. Here is a 360 experience for the Cliffs of Moher Galway is one of the best places to stay as a home base for seeing the Cliffs of Moher. A bustling center with so many pubs to explore when you are not exploring nature. Galway Hotels

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2. Ballybunion Cliff Walk

South of Galway is a little town called Ballybunion. Along the coast is a great walk along some beautiful beaches and picturesque cliffs. This walk has been used by visitors for the last 100 years. You can also explore a pretty castle and some lovely sand dunes. Most people can easily spend a couple hours here exploring.

3. Clogher Strand Beach

A must see stop when driving around the Dingle peninsula is Clogher Strand. There is a car park here and even on the calmest day, this little cove is spectacular to view. The rocky shore and cliffs are battered by wind and waves up to 26 feet high. There is a wonderful hike from this cove along the countryside and cliffs to the Pier at Wine Strand. This is some of the best hiking in Ireland. This route takes about 3 hours, but you can make your way back via a road if you do not want as long of a walk. Many movie fans may recognize this area as the Irish countryside that Tom Cruise's character was from in "Far and Away."

Dingle is an iconic Irish village worth a stop itself. It has one of the biggest food festivals and also is home to one of the most famous Dolphin's by the name of Fungie. Locals say this same dolphin has made this it's home for the last 32 years. Dingle Hotels

4. Slea Head and Dunmore Head

Easily accessible from Dingle, this is the most western point in Ireland. You can park at Coumeenoole Beach and head up to see Coumeenoole Ogham Stone. This particular Ogham stone is believed to be a place of worship for someone named Erc to the goddess Duibhne(Dovinnias). It is a bit of a hike up to the stone through fields of sheep and over a small fence, but the views from there are one of a kind. You have a heavenly view of the Blasket Islands to the west and nothing else until North America behind them. To the east you can view Slea Head beach and endless miles of green countryside. Put this one on your hiking in Ireland list.

5. Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe is a scenic narrow mountain pass just outside of the popular town of Killarney, Ireland. A popular way to ride through the pass is with a jaunting car or pony guided by locals who live around the gap. You can also find some of the best hiking trails in Ireland here. Many also choose to bike through the area. There are even rock climbing routes in the area for those looking for a more extreme adventure. The Dunloe gap is about 7 miles long and consists of 11 lakes connected by the river Loe and an old arch bridge called the "Wishing Bridge." The gap was also a filming area for the movie "The Crying Game." Killarney is your best bet for a place to stay in this area and is a wonderful town full of pubs, delicious food, live music and amenities.  There is also the Killarney National Park to explore and definitely worth a visit when in Killarney. One of the largest parks in Ireland. Killarney Hotels

6. Bog of Frogs Loop

Dublin is an epicenter in Ireland. Many people just stay in Dublin for pubs, music and food but there is adventure just outside the city along with some great Ireland hiking. Within the town of Howth is a fairytale hike through enchanted forests and up to an amazing lookout. This whole area known as Howth Head was immortalized in James Joyce's book Ulysses. One of my favorite Howth hikes is Bog of Frogs that winds through an enchanted forest of gnarly trees which locals say is full of fairies.  Check out Shane's Howth Hikes for guided Ireland hiking tours of this area. Need a spot for lunch? Don't miss the delicious seafood at Octopussy's Seafood Tapas Restaurant on the Howth waterfront. Coming from the Pacific Northwest, I know seafood and this is good seafood. Need place to say in Dublin? Dublin Hotels

7. Dalkey Island

In the town of Dalkey just outside of Dublin you can kayak over to Dalkey Island with Kayaking Dublin. This drops you right into Lord of the Rings-like terrain. The kayak trip over is full of encounters with seals and beautiful coastline. Then you touch down on the island which is covered with rock and a spongy Irish moss. I chose to go barefoot and literally felt like a hobbit exploring the island.  If overnight stays were allowed I may not have left. The island was used by the Vikings as a holding area for slaves they had captured and a base for attacks and defense. This uninhabited island has been used for various purposes for 6000 years. It is now home to goats, seals, rabbits and legends.  Want lunch in Dalkey? Look no further than The Dalkey Duck Looking for more adventure? Zip It Forest Adventures may be what you need. Packed with fun and challenging routes for beginners to advanced. The Red Circuit is an upper body killer!

8. Hellfire Club (Mount Pelier Hill)

One of the most haunted buildings in Ireland wrapped up in witchcraft and satanic rituals. The Hellfire Club had multiple meeting locations around Ireland and some of the most influential and richest men in the country would partake in these gatherings. This old hunting lodge built by William Connolly is on top of Mount Pelier Hill. Locals share stories of debauchery, sacrifices and even the devil himself at this lodge. The hike up to the lodge is gorgeous with views of Dublin to the North and the Wicklow mountains to the South. The lodge itself sits on an old burial site in which adds to the haunted tales and stories of satanic rituals. You can explore the building and feel the eerie presence of those who may have died at this site. Watch your step as the building can be damp and dark. There is a great company Hilltop Treks that does Ireland Hiking tours and can take you up to this spot and other hiking in Ireland Watch a story told by Terry from Hilltop Treks about Hellfire Club here. Looking for something extra to do in this area. How about horseback riding in Dublin overlooking the Wicklow Hills with Killegar Stables? They are a great outfit for beginners to experts and one of Ireland's longest established riding schools. Take in the fresh Irish air as you trot through the countryside. Prefer golfing to hiking? Check out this resort just outside of Dublin with golfing at your fingertips? Check out Portmarnock Hotel and Golf Links

9. Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge

Situated in Northern Ireland along the coast is a rope bridge not for the feint of heart. The bridge is 65 feet long and 100 feet above the rocks below. It connects Carrickarede island with the mainland. It is a nice scenic walk down to the bridge, there is a fee to cross it. On the other side you can explore the old fishing dock and take the stairs to the top of the island. Upon returning across the bridge to your left you can follow the trail to a nice lookout spot for a great photographic view of the bridge and island. This will loop you back to the parking area. Not some of the best hiking in Ireland, but definitely a unique and beautiful area. Plan to stay in Belfast? Belfast is a prime city to situate yourself when exploring Northern Ireland. You can visit Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, Giant's Causeway, Dunluce Castle and The Dark Hedges all from Belfast. Belfast Hotels

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10. Giant's Causeway

One of Northern Ireland's most visited natural wonders. An area consisting of about 40,000 interlocking basalt columns. This is the by-product of an ancient volcanic eruption and is now a UNESCO site. Legend denotes the columns are the remains of a route built by giants. To get to the columns you must park above near the Visitors Center. Remember entrance to the Giant's Causeway is free but use of any of the facilities like the car park requires payment. In slow season you may be able to stop for a drink or snack at the pub and use their parking area or find parking along the road or a wall near the visitors center. It is a bit of a hike down along the coast to get to the columns, but a fairly level road to walk on. Once there, you can spends hours climbing and exploring the area. One the weirdest landscapes next to Cappadocia, Turkey.

Are you a Game of Thrones fan? When you are on your way to the Giant's Causeway or any other of the Northern Ireland Coastal locations, you can stop by the Dark Hedges. Used in the popular TV series Game of Thrones. The massive and unique trees curve over the road and give an eerie and medieval feel to them. Here is another article about Game of Thrones in Dubrovnik.

11. Dunluce Castle and Cliffs

The medieval Dunluce Castle sits right on the edge of the coastline of Northern Ireland. Something right out of Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings. On all sides of the castle are steep drops which made it an ideal fortification for early Christians and Vikings. There is a cool little bridge connecting to the castle plus a waterway escape to the ocean from under the castle. You can spend a good hour exploring the area and walking through the castle. Plus the area is beautiful for a cycle or a good ole Irish walk along the coast. Read about another Historic Trail here.

12. Glenveagh National Park

Glenveagh National Park is an adventurers paradise. In the county of Donegal in Northwest Ireland lies an oasis of trails, cycling, fishing, vast landscapes and a picturesque castle. In reality this area provides some of the most remote and best hiking in Ireland. Entry to the area is free, but services will be extra. At almost 40,000 acres, this park provides countless hours of exploring. It consists of most of Derryveagh Mountians, the Poisoned Glen and part of Errigal Mountain. You can rent a bike with www.grassroutes.ie to discover more of the area. Fishing can be done on Lough Veagh from July 15th - September 30th. Contact www.donegalanglingholidays.com to arrange. Derry, also know as Londonderry is just over the border in Northern Ireland, but provides a good home base for exploring County Donegal. It is a sight to explore by itself as well. It is a walled city with various 17th century architecture to see. LondonDerry Hotels

  Another option for accommodations is Ireland 's Blue Book. They provide access to Irish Country House Hotels, Manor Houses and Castles for a more unique experience.  

13. Slieve League Cliffs

Just over 2 hours from Derry, these Irish cliffs are said to be one of the best cliffs is Ireland. Larger and just as spectacular as the Cliffs of Moher. I am talking almost 3 times higher. You get wonderful views of Sligo Mountains and Donegal Bay from the top of the cliffs where the ocean devours the rock below. If you are feeling like a little extra adventure, head onto One Man's Pass which connects around to Pilgrim's Path. This is one of Ireland's best hiking trails in Ireland and goes along one of Ireland's most impressive coastlines. The best part is this area is less explored than many other parts of Ireland, at least for now. Thanks for reading. Another detailed article about an Ultimate Road Trip from Belfast to Derry, Northern Ireland is here. Let me know if you think any new hiking in Ireland adventures should be added. Always looking for a new adventure to try. Here is some of the Best Hikes Near Seattle, my hometown. On Pinterest? Use this Pin below to share!

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