#chester knew what he was doing with wick

[domaslut]

Sleepless night in the meadow (I).

HOGWARTS MYSTERY.

Prompt: In which Chester and Clarice are dating, but her father does anything in his power to part them. Craving to meet his girlfriend, he asks Felix to pick her up for him for a date in the middle of the night. 

Starring: Chester Davies, Felix Rosier and Clarice Blackthrone (my Mc, but you can replace her with yours, if you please).

Warning: fluff, a lil bit of angst, mention to virginity and sex.

PART 1.

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He was tired of seeing her sporadically, reading those heartbreaking letters she sent him was making him feel powerless. Her family was slowly consuming her and all he could do was watching her crumble to the ground, shattered in pieces too small for being put back together. She was not evil, yet they were trying to awaken her dark side, the one that lays within people’s heart. He had to set her free, at least for a day or two. He wanted to remind her of the purity of her heart, before it was too late.

Maybe he did not stand a chance against her father and his comrades in a duel, yet it did not mean he was going to sit idly and watch them turning the love of his life into a murderous assassin. She did not deserve it. He had spent days mulling over what to do. Her family knew they were friends. Her father did not quite appreciate him. Whenever he knocked on his door, asking for his daughter, he stared down at him as if he was some kind of a despicable beggar. However, he had given him a chance for redemption. His venomous words still rang in his head after months. His deplorable speech in the Blackthrone living room, before the fireplace, had made his stomach twist and turn to the point he had thrown up on his way home.

‘You descend from a pureblood family, Davies, am I right? I know your parents. They are rather broad-minded, aren’t they? It’s a shame they have turned down our offer to join us… What about you, Chester? You are young, you are a brilliant man, a Ravenclaw. Why don’t you join us? Felix Rosier is your friend, isn’t he? And my daughter is even more than that to you. I can see it in the way you look at her. You are in love with her. Think about it, Chester. If you joined us, you could even be her husband in a few years. Otherwise, your best friend, the young Rosier, will be bragging at you about how delightful it is to spend the eternity by her side’.

Chester exhaled deeply, his eyes flicked up to meet the intense gaze of his best friend Felix. If he was the only person in the world he could confide in to meet his beloved girlfriend, then he would have gladly taken adventage of his position in the wicked group of dark wizards.

”Chester, are you drunk or what? You want me to pick up Clarice and escort her in the woods? What’s wrong with you?” Felix asked, leaning his torso over the table in concern.

”I’m perfectly fine, Felix. Her father does not particularly bear the sight of me around his house and I am more than sure that he is plotting to murder me too, after I have declined his kind offer to join you” Chester replied, taking a sip of his butterbeer.

Felix scowled and glared at his friend “The young ones did not have a choice, Chester. I didn’t get to choose which side I wanted to belong to and Clarice couldn’t do it too. It’s not like we’re happy to be a part of that disgusting crew of freaks – he hissed, earning a sigh from the other guy – What on the Earth makes you think he will let me take her out?” Felix inquired, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. Was it just concern, though?

The Ravenclaw prefect nodded his head apologetically “Hey, calm down, I know that you did not have a choice. You are my friend, Felix, and… And you know what’s going on between Clarice and me. – he paused, settling his pot on the wooden table – I know for sure that her father likes you” he added shortly.

Felix quirked a long dark eyebrow up “Why? Because I’m a Death Eater?”.

”No, Felix, don’t push it”.

The Slytherin prefect scoffed and slammed his palm over the table in indignation “No secrets, Chester. Do you remember the oath we took years ago?” he pressed his friend. He was frustrated.

Maybe it was true that love was greatest destroyer of all. The Dark Lord was raising again and here they were, plotting a bloody elopement to mend their broken hearts. Who was going to mend his one, though? Moreover, what did Chester know that he did not? Why did he have to take the girl he loved to a night date with his best friend?

Chester pinched the bridge of his nose, a tired groan escaped his lips before he locked eyes with his best friend again. How did they come to this?

“Felix, you are not just a Death Eater. I could be one too, if I turned my back on everything I believe in. You are a pureblood and so am I…Yet, and that’s the difference between you and me, you are last scion of an important and noble family. He wants her to marry you, not me” Chester said, hating each and every word rolling out of his tongue. The truth was not bittersweet. It was sour and metallic, just like taste of blood. Chester Davies was not Felix Rosier and nothing could have ever changed that. Not even Clarice’s love for him. 

‘Am I just wasting her time, if in the end she’s destined to be his wife? In years, will I even be able to say that, for a short but happy period of my life, she was mine, ascertained that the woman I love was not born to love me?’ Chester thought, eyes dawncast as reality dawned harshly on him.

Silence swallowed them for a few minutes, before Felix decided to speak again “Who told you that?” he uttered, running one hand over his silky hair to draw back some strands tickling his forehead.

It did not sound unrealistic to him. Almost every marriage among purebloods was arranged. Only a few exceptions were based purely on the mutual, rare feeling of love. His family had mentioned that before and his father believed that Clarice would have been the best choice to make. He had always agreed on that. The thought of spending his life with someone he cared about was a privilege reserved to a only a few lucky people. Still, even if he loved her, she was Chester’s girlfriend and he would have never stabbed his back like that.

Chester sighed and clicked his tongue “He did. I don’t want to talk about the details of our conversation, though. At least, not now. – he said, tapping his fingers onto the table nervously – I just… Can I still count on you? I know you care about her, Felix. They are tormenting her, her light is slowly fading away. Please, do it for her” Chester pleaded his friend, the gleam of hope sparkling into his dark eyes making Felix’s stomach clench. He knew he was right. Maybe, Clarice was omitting a lot of things not to break Chester’s heart. He always sat beside her during the meetings. The things they heard, the tests they were constantly put under were truly breaking her. He knew what he had to do.

Felix Rosier stood up, straightening his jacket and nodding his head at him “Meet us tonight at the sunflowers meadow” he announced, before walking out of the pub.  Chester did not reply. He just felt his lips curling up into a tiny smile. Felix Rosier, his best friend, was not truly gone. He was still the cocky bastard who pretended not to have feelings, but did anything he could to protect them. 

In the meanwhile, Clarice Blackthrone was sitting on the leather couch of her living room, composed, a novel laying on her lap as she brushed her fingertips on the title of the muggle book she had been reading for the past two hours. Her family hated muggles, yet they had always let her buying herself their inventions and random stuff, such as the CDs or the novels, and they even allowed her to visit their cities and museums. They appreciated art and they had invested a lot into her education. They hated being ingorant and, above all, they firmly believed that knowing your enemy is the key to brew up a glorious plan for their downfall. They had made her promise not to let her interest for the muggles get too far and not to interact with them more than it was necessary. She had learnt her lesson a long time ago. She still remembered vividly how her father had killed a muggle before her eyes just because he had complimented her mother. Her parents had made her watch the whole scene. They were nothing but monsters.

The authoritarian voice of her father echoing through the walls of the room made her flinch and tighten her grip on the book “Aren’t you supposed to train, Clarice? Your mother has been waiting for you in the training grounds for hours, but you haven’t showed up” he said, a hint of disdain in his voice as he pointed out how disrespectful towards her own flesh and blood she had been.

“I won’t spend my summer break learning how to murder people, father” she sternly replied, her blue eyes staring into the potrait of her grandfather hanged on the wall on the opposite side of the living room.

She had spent enough time of her life living with her father, fearing his violent outbursts, that she knew exactly what he was going to do. He did not dignify her with an answer, instead he drawed his wand and attacked her. She apparated a few feet away from where she was standing and successfully protected herself with a effective “Protego!”.

Her father laughed, cocking his head to the side as he watched her eyes burn in anger. Her wand was still pointing at him and her facial expression displayed nothing but fury. She was livid as she tried to cast another spell “Locomotor Mortis!” she said, hoping to make him lose his balance. Yet, how could he trick the one who had taught her how to fight?

”Fumos” he breathed out and before she could even realise it, smoke enveloped him. The spell smashed a vase behind her father, her aim diverted.

She took a step back, her eyes searching his blue ones as she heard him laugh again “Oh, my dear, look at you! You are my daughter, you are just like me. We share the same murderous look in the eye when we engage a fight!” he pinpointed and she grimaced at his words. No matter how hard she tried not to be like them, Clarice Blackthrone was her father’s daughter. She was destined to be a killer.

”You have ruined my life…” she breathed out, rushing out of the room.

She heard him yell after her, shooting a few spell at her back. She dudged them hastily, sending some defensive spells at him. As he chased her down the dark corridors of their house, a constellation of tears sparkled on her lashes. Black lines of mascara drew irregular patterns down her cheeks. Was he going to kill her this time?

A knock on the front door made them freeze solid. Did the Aurors finally find them? Were they rescuing her? She gulped down nervously, sweat beading her forehead as her father gestured for her to get behind him. It was no time for debating, she obliged his request wiping away some tears off of her face.

”May the Dark Lord raise again, Mister Blackthrone” a firm voice announced from behind the polished wooden door, making her heart skip a beat. Felix, her salvation, was here.

Tobias Blackthrone unlocked the door, his wand lowering as he grabbed the silver knob and opened the door. The young Rosier stood on the porch, a black suit and a bright green cape setting off his slender frame. Hair perfectly groomed, silken, he bowed his head at him as a sign of respect. The girl felt her heart burn as she registered his actions. A well-educated, deadly, charming pureblood. They were the same: living up to the expectations of their parents. However, while Felix obliged their requestd without making a fuss, she was keened to rebel against her parents. 

Tobias nodded his head at him, stepping aside to let him in “Felix Rosier, what a pleasant surprise. – he said, watching as the French Wizard slowly crossed the threshold – Any news from your parents? Would you like a glass of wine?” he offered, a small smile curling his lips.

Felix bowed his head again “They are out of town, Mr. Blackthrone. I am here to ask you the permission to take your daughter out tonight” Felix said, eyes trailed on the polished parquet underneath his feet. He had not met Clarice’s eyes yet, he had not seen her puffed, reddened eyes and the black lines of mascara on her cheeks. Or the fright in her eyes. The girl sighed and took her chance to wipe away the tears off of her face. It was her chance to leave her daddy issues behind her for a few hours then.

Clarice cleared her throat and took a step towards her friend, whose gaze flicked up to meet her blue hues “It’d be a pleasure, Felix. Where would you like to go? I might have to change into a better attire, if you pick a fancy restaurant for dinner” she noted, a small smile curled her lips. She was tired.

There she was: a doll face, acting on her best behavior to accomplish her goal to please her father’s expectations. Yet, Felix knew her like the back of his hand. He sensed the tension in the air. His attention, though, was on her sclera: it was no white, on the contrary it was reddened. Anger enveloped his heart, but he simply decided to disguise it with a warm smile.

’What has this freak done to her this time?’ he thought, glancing at Clarice’s father. 

“Actually, I hoped to invite you over. A simple dinner, a walk through the gardens… Nothing inappropiate, of course. Plus, you are bewitching just the way you are” he whispered suavely, making Clarice feel extremely indisposed. He had always had that ascendant on her. Was he just pretending to be intrigued by her? Actually, Felix was trying to pretend, he wished he was just pretebding, but those words rolled out on his tongue effortlessly. He loved her, but she was with Chester, wasn’t he?

Tobias grinned and nodded his head “Don’t disturb taking her home, Felix. – he suggested, a gleam of malice in his eyes – Your parents aren’t around, you could take advantage of the time you spend alone at home with her. You have my consent for spending the night out with her. In addition, I believe my lovely daughter will enjoy taking a break from her duties” he raved, gesturing for Clarice to go upstairs and gather her stuff.

She blushed, ashamed by the way her father way practically selling her to Felix. Tobias, the man who stack up to his ideals of chastity before the wedding, to being respectful of partners, was now pushing her into Felix’s bed.  The young Rosier felt his hands sweating and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down spasmodically. He felt disgusted and terribly scared of what would have happened, if that man had found out where they were heading to and who was going to lay with his daughter on the soft grass.

“Father, please…” she protested, before running upstairs to gather her stuff. The look in her eyes, the way she was hurting herself by pretending to be okay smashed Felix’s heart into a million pieces.

They had left the Blackthrone maison almost an hour ago. Not a single word had left their lips, but Clarice knew one thing for sure: they were not going to spend the night in the Rosier maison. She was just glad he had somehow found a way to get her out of that cage. As long as her parents were not around, she would have walked a thousand miles.

To break the silence was surprisingly Felix “Are you hurt?” he asked, gaze transfixed on the horizon.

”What?” she said, trying to keep his pace. The high, wild grass was stinging her bare legs, puncturing the tender flesh of her exposed calves earning a few groans of frustration from her.

”You’ve heard me. Did he hurt you?” Felix quipped, switching his attention to her again.

Clarice chuckled, elbowing him jokingly on his side “Are you concerned about me, Rosier? I am flattered once again… You truly are a gentleman, after all. I’m fine, anyway, thanks for asking” she said, playing with the hem of skirt.

Felix rolled his eyes and stopped on his tracks, frowning at her barbed response “Is it so strange I care about you? We’ve grown up together, Clarice. I know what you’re going through… – he trailed off, assesting her reaction – And, for the record, I am risking my neck for you and your happiness. You should show me some gratitude” he added, cocking his head to the side.

The brunette knitted her eyebrows together, tossing her bag onto the ground. She could not care less about her stuff getting dirty, all she was focusing on was him and his enigmatic answer. Was Felix trying to seduce her for real? But he was not risking his neck when her father rooted for him.

”Merlin’s beard, of course, Felix! I care about you too and you fucking know it! Yet, what the hell are you talking about? And what was that little entr’act back at home? Are you hitting on me? You were so charming, kind and… And loving! And where in the actual fuck are we going, by the way?” she snapped, exhaling in distress.  Felix swallowed his pride, a stern look on his face “What’s about it?” he deadpanned.

”It felt real!” she declared, blushing.

”What if it was?”.

She was left agape, her heart skipping a beat at his rhetoric question. Was Felix in love with her? Was he really trying to seduce her?

“I don’t… I don’t understand, Felix. Why? You can’t love me” she stammered, breath uneven as flahes of her kisses with Chester played on repeat before her eyes.

Felix felt as if she, the woman he loved, had just casted a Crucio on him. His heart bled out, but he was a Rosier: he would have bled in silence, loving that cruel lady from afar. He shrugged a dry laughter escaped his throat “Calm down, sweetheart. I am taking you to Chester. I could never love my best friend’s girlfriend”.

What a beautiful lie.

[canonicallysoulmates]

Supernatural 15.16

What can I say? No, seriously, what can I say this was such a disappointment I just wanna salt it, burn it and forget it. 

This is not what I wanted nor what we were told we were gonna get, the promo’s and the way it was promoted made it seem like this was gonna be a heavy brothers centered episode and we were gonna get to see flashbacks of Sam and Dean hunting solo together, without their dad, for the first time. It wasn’t.

This episode is snake oil. It was advertised in all the right ways to make us buy into it but it has no real substance or value.  

The plot is simple: Sam and Dean have to investigate the death of an old, sort of friend they made in one of the motel’s they stayed at back when they were little and haven’t spoken to in over 20 years. And let’s talk about this real quick because at the beginning Sam and Dean don’t know they’re going to investigate their friends’ death they think they’re going to the funeral cause the victim’s sister, who was also a sort of friend of theirs back in the day, invited them to the funeral to guarantee that they would go which is so stupid, people miss funerals all the time especially when they’re the funerals of people who they only knew for a week over 20 years ago and didn’t keep in contact. So, the stupid starts early in this episode. 

Back to the plot, the thing that Sam and Dean are hunting is something they had hunted and thought killed years ago back when they were the wee!chesters, and by “they” I mean….Dean and the girlie. I’m sorry you thought, we were gonna see young!Sam and Dean actually hunt together? No. 

The four of them sort of work together to figure out where the thing might be hiding and Dean’s all ‘I’m handling this on my own’ and Sam’s like ‘I’m going with you’ and Dean’s like ‘no’ and the girls like ‘then i’m going with you’ and Dean’s all ‘no’ and so he goes off on his own but the girl follows him so it’s the girl and him hunting this thing down while Sam is stuck back in the motel on babysitting duty of the girls little brother which I’m sure the writer is patting herself on the back for because at the beginning in the first flashback Dean was all ‘I used to babysit you when I was your age’ so now Sam is stuck babysitting...get it? Get it? I think it’s supposed to be clever…...excuse me a minute

*clears throat* where was I? Oh yes, so anyways after some investigating and Dean finding a bunch of children’s corpses they arrive at the hotel in time to see the thing they’re hunting attacking Sam and the other kid and Dean’s all ‘Sam get out of the way’ and stabs the thing which makes it turn to dust so they think it’s dead which we all know it ain’t but let’s talk for a minute about the fact that Dean just walked to see a monster attacking his baby brother AND HE DOESN’T EVEN RUSH TO CHECK ON HIM WHEN THE THING IS DEAD!!!! Also, this thing was hunting kids that were around Sam’s age but Dean doesn’t seem to give a fuck. 

So what was the thing Sam and Dean were hunting oh so many years ago when they did shit re-search even though we know that they knew how important research was but this writer doesn’t know how to write this characters in present time why would she be able to write young! them? Baba Yaga! But they still don’t know that they’ll find that out later in the episode, in like a 5min scene that really does not do this figure justice but neither does the rest of this episode as this writer doesn’t really care and treats Baby Yaga more like a traditional vengeful spirit. 

For real though, it is a shame that this writer doesn’t care enough because Baba Yaga is a folklore figure with so much history they could have really done something interesting and scary; such a famous folklore figure and she was treated like a footnote. 

But that’s what young!Sam and Dean were up to what about our Sam and Dean? Well, after they find out the truth that they’re there to investigate and not attend a funeral that happened a week before they go check what’s up at the motel since that’s where everything happened years ago and the dude died, Dean is feeling guilty af for so many reasons including that he had yet to tell Sam Jack was gonna die, at first Dean doesn’t believe it’s the same thing they had hunted but then he’s like ‘okay maybe it’s not as dead as I thought’ and leaves Sam and the girlie to do research while he has a scene with Billie where she tells him the end is coming and while that’s happening Sam finds out it’s the Baba Yaga and the girl gets attacked and then Dean returns and he and Sam go their separate ways to find her because of course the do and Dean gets attacked but Sam arrives and then they properly kill the monster. 

Anyways, it all ends with their “friend” telling Dean for like the 20th time that he has changed and then they have a hug which gives us our final flashback where after him and the young girlie say goodbye to each other him and Sam are waiting for John to pick them up and Dean’s all ‘I don’t know about this college thing but we make a good team’ which would be great if we had actually seen them work as a team.

With the thing dead Sam and Dean make their way back home and Dean tells Sam the truth about Jack dying. We’ll come back to this scene. 

And that’s the episode in a nutshell. It’s bad. It’s unforgivably bad. This is the mediocre, poor man’s version of Something Wicked. 

It’s got no soul, with the exception of one scene it’s got no emotion. It stays at the surface level, we don’t truly get to see young!Sam and Dean work together, we don’t really get to see their dynamic with each other, we don’t learn anything new about them, Dean clearly didn’t like Sam thinking about college but it wasn’t really explored he was just an ass to Sam about it and then was all ‘we make a good team’ but like I said we didn’t truly get to see them be a team so it just falls flat, there weren’t really any proper scenes between the young brothers, Baba Yaga is not explored she’s more a footnote, we also don’t get to see adult Sam and Dean hunt together. 

You compare it to other flashback episodes like Something Wicked, A Very Supernatural Christmas, Just My imagination to name a few, and you can’t. You can’t really compare it cause those episodes were well written and actually explored Sam and Dean’s emotions and their relationship. This episode is the worst flashback episode we have ever gotten and I wish it didn’t exist. 

I wanna talk about the young!Sam and Dean actors real quick cause no shade to them but I didn’t like them one bit not just because of the way they were written but also because they don’t really embody Sam and Dean’s personalities in the way that their predecessors have, I look at them I don’t see Sam and Dean. Also, their acting? Not the best. 

So, all around this is a failure as far as young!Sam and Dean.

There was one scene in this whole entire episode that had any sort of emotion: the final scene with Sam and Dean in the car where Dean tells Sam everything and about Jack dying and Sam is pissed off and they get into a fight. That’s the only scene where Sam and Dean got closest to acting and sounding like themselves and the only one that was worth something and I give full credit to Jared and Jensen for that because their acting in that moment was standing ovation worthy, they honestly almost made me cry. I think if this epi had been better written and emotions actually explored it would have managed to make me cry. 

I don’t like that the epi finished with the boys fighting, even less that the one proper scene we got between them was a fight but it was the best scene of the episode and it should be watched if for no other reason than to see Jared and Jensen put on an amazing performance, 

But that scene alone is not enough to save this episode. 

The writer of this epi once recommended that you could put the first 2 seasons of this show on as background noise and maybe if she hadn’t done that and actually paid attention to the foundation of the show that paid her bills she wouldn’t have given us the mediocre version of Something Wicked or would have learned how to artfully weave the main plot of a season into a stand alone episode like Phantom Traveler did instead of sticking in a scene right in the middle for some exposition. As it is, you can use her episode as background noise. 

Here’s the thing, you can make the argument that it’s not as bad as it could have been or as what we have gotten, or that we should expect the episodes to be bad because it’s all we’ve gotten, or that we should just be happy with what we get and listen you feel how you wanna feel about this episode and/or tell yourself what you need to make yourself feel better but that don’t work with me. I’m not going to thank the writers for taking a smaller shit on this show than they did last time, and expecting the episodes to suck doesn’t mean we don’t deserve better and that we shouldn’t be upset. 

And I am upset. I am angry. I am sad. I am bitter. I am disappointed. 

You know what stings most about this episode? What makes it cut differently than all the other shitty, insulting, disappointing episodes that have come before it? That this is the last time we’re going to see young!Sam and Dean. This was the last ever flashback episode. A badly written episode with barely any proper interaction between the young brothers, is the last time we’ll see young! Sam and Dean. 

I so badly wish I could recommend this episode but the truth is that I can't. What I can recommend, and I highly do, is looking up the final scene and enjoying that beautifully acted, painful, brother moment. And then if you still want to watch young!Sam and Dean, just re-watch Something Wicked. 

In conclusion,

[geekydane]

Talk to me - Tommy Shelby x reader - Chapter 15

Masterlist

Warning: blood, gore, lots of guns and shooting and all that stuff

Author note:

Hello guys. Again i’m so sorry for the looooong pause! But i’ve had an accident and injured my shoulder. So i’ve bacially written this chapter with one hand… So i’m sorry for all the typing errors in advance! I feel like i could do a lot better, but i’m also very tired all the time because of painkillers. 

————————————————————–

Polly took care of the poor man’s family by your request. You said to Tommy that you wanted your salary to be giving to the man’s family but he insisted that you kept your money and he would give them a much larger sum from the company. He said that they would always provide for the family of a fallen Blinder.

You could feel the unease in the office after the episode. People weren’t as loud as they usually were and most of the men looked up when someone walked in the front door to the betting shop. Tommy was out much again and you hated that you just sat there in the office and did the paperwork. You wanted to be where he was and help with whatever he was doing out of the office all the time. You had asked what you could do, but he just told you to work like you always did and keep your head low. No shopping trips with Ada or outings with Lizzie. Besides that, Tommy seemed like he always did. He wasn’t any more panicking or was out half of the night like he was when you started to know him. He came faithfully home every night before you went to bed and would pull you in for a kiss or a hug as a greeting, always with a smile on his lips.

You couldn’t resist him when he was in a good mood and let him sweep you away but when you weren’t around him it started to get to you. It didn’t seem like he was doing much but at the same time, you didn’t know what he was doing all day. He had promised to include you more but at the same time he was so over protective that he didn’t want you to go out of the house when a potential killer was out there waiting for someone close to him and the Peaky Blinders.

“You are in.” You said softly as you walked into Tommy’s office some weeks later. Tommy was sitting bending over his desk with his head in some paperwork. His face didn’t give away what he was reading but he looked up when you came in with a tray with tea and biscuits. You knew John and Arthur would either be there or come in a little later, so you had cups for them as well.

“How did you know that I needed that right now?” He said and let an arm sneak around your hips as you sat the tray down next to him.

“You’ve been sitting in here the whole day. It’s not like you. So now that you aren’t out running to god knows where I thought you might want something sweet to get thought the rest of the day.” There were still a couple of hours left of work and you had thought this through so many times. Leaving your desk and drink tea with Tommy was a privilege you didn’t know if you had. Yes, you were with Tommy now but that didn’t mean that you could just abandon work when you wanted to. So you had worked extra fast to earn yourself some time off with Tommy. At least in your head you had and you hoped Tommy thought like that too.

“Something sweet, huh? Is it the biscuits or you we are talking about here?” He said with a wicked grin playing on his lips. He brought the teacup up to his lips to take a sip.

“I certainly hope we are talking about the biscuits, because it’s for Arthur and John too.” You said and Tommy almost chocked on his tea. You couldn’t help but laugh hysterically and pat him on the back till he could breathe properly again.

“How… how did you know they were coming too?” Tommy said when he was done coughing and adjusted his collar.

“You three are up to something without including me and you have been out with them every day since Chester was found dead outside Purnell’s. I knew they would come eventually.” You grabbed a cup from the tray and sat down on the opposite side of the desk with your legs crossed.

“Will you please stop referring to him as Chester and call him Mr. Lynch? You didn’t know who the man was before he…” Tommy growled but you interrupted him.

“I feel like I owe the man, Tommy. I made the deal with Lady Isabella so that Mick King started to act out more than usual. And if we look further back he actually said he wanted to stop killing YOUR men if he got to fuc…”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.” Tommy warned you and slammed the teacup down onto the saucer. The tea spilled on his papers and he growled when he tried to dry it off. You sighed and got up to get some towels from the kitchen. You met Arthur and John on the way out and they tipped their hats as if you were on your way out.

“I’m coming back in. Tommy just spilled his tea because of his bad temper.” You grumbled and they stopped and looked after you but you didn’t care. Tommy needed to do something and if you could hurry up the process somehow you didn’t care if you were behaving badly and you might shock people.

All three brothers were silent when you entered the office again. Tommy moved a little to the side for you so you could dry off the paper, but there wasn’t much use for it. You would just ruin the ink.

“I’ll take them to my desk and write them over tomorrow.” You explained and hurried out to put them on your desk.

“Shall I?” Lizzie asked as you were heading back to Tommy’s office.

“Oh please, yes. Thank you.” You said and gave yourself time to give her a smile and placed the papers on her desk. While doing that, you could hear the brothers’ whispering in a hissing manner and hurried back to them. The moment you stepped inside they stopped talking.

“Please continue.” You said stubbornly and sat down in front of the desk, in the chair that John was leaning his hand on, placing yourself in the middle of their conversation.

“Y/n. I know and appreciate that you want to join us, but what is going to happen next is going to be very dangerous and it needs planning. We are not doing this for one man but…”

“I don’t care how dangerous it will be. If you have something I can do, then let me do it.” You explained and leaned back in your seat as calmly you could master but you could feel your heart race by your words.

“I do care if it is dangerous. I want to keep you as far away from this as possible. But IF there is something you will be able to do, I will let you know.” Tommy leaned over the table and held out a hand for you. You were about to reach out for his hand when you noticed the silent that had felt over the office.

“Am I dismissed then?” You asked but you already knew the answer. The brothers only waited for you to go away, so that they could plan their next move where you weren’t included.

“For now.” Tommy assured you but you couldn’t feel certain that he would let you be included if you didn’t do anything yourself. You got up without taking Tommy’s hand and went to the door. You turned around a last time as you considered if you could say something to change his mind but you knew better and nodded to the brothers and went to your desk.

————————————————-

When the day was over and people started to leave the office and betting shop, the brothers hadn’t left Tommy’s office. You sighed when Lizzie asked you to go with her for a small grocery run but accepted it, because you didn’t want to just go to Tommy and yours’s room and just wait for something to happen. It was nice to be out even though it started to get dark outside earlier. It was slowly becoming autumn. By the time you split with Lizzie it was almost entirely dark and you walked quickly through the streets to get to the Shelby house. When you turned the corner to their street you saw a bunch of men running on the opposite pavement. You halted at first and were afraid that they were running towards you, but they turned the corner and moved down the same street towards the Shelby resident. You breathed out but saw one of the men stop and look in your direction. You debated quickly if you should run or try to get your gun out, but when the man passed a streetlamp you saw that it was one of Tommy’s friends that was called Johnny Dog. You have seen him a few times around the office but not with this dark colour of red on his face and neck.

“Miss y/l/n.” He said between huffs and puffs. He wasn’t in a very good shape.

“What is going on?” You asked worriedly. If anything could make a man like Johnny run like that, it had to be important. The other men stopped further down the street, when they noticed that Johnny wasn’t with them.  

“We were on our way to fetch Tommy. There has been a massacre at the new building in Manchester.” Johnny said as a shadow came over his face. It looked like it hurt him. Maybe he knew the men.

“Massacre? What does that mean? How many were…?” You didn’t finish the sentence because you didn’t have to.

“I don’t know. I just got word of it. We need to go to Manchester NOW. I want that bastard Mick King dead.” Johnny explained and you knew immediately what you needed to do. There was murder in Johnny’s eyes and he was in a manic state of mind. This was your chance to prove that you could do something. You could kill off Mick King once and for all before Tommy would ever get to do anything.

“Take me with you. NOW. Send someone else to fetch Tommy. Mr. King won’t expect an attack so soon if we hurry. Do you have a car available?” You hurriedly said as the other men came up to you.

“I’ve got one!” One of the Blinders said. He had a wicked smile on his lips. He was ready too. There men had had enough and Tommy was too slow. Nothing was happening from the blinders side while their friends and brothers were killed left and right.

“Good. Johnny and I will ride with you. If anyone else has a car, go after us. Then the left can go and look for Tommy.” You said firmly and they all nodded before they spread out.

“All right, you ARE the boss’ lass.” Johnny said amused and the Blinder lead the way to the car.

———————————————- It was in the middle of the night when you finally started to arrive to the suburban Manchester. You were only two cars but it was more than enough to kill one man. You knew that Tommy wasn’t far behind you anyway. He would be furious with you but you could feel the familiar bloodlust inside you burn and it didn’t want some random member of the Scuttlers again, you wanted Mick King. The ride had been mostly silent but once in a while Johnny talked about some of the men The Blinders had lost.

“We called him little Jim. He wasn’t very tall but he was working damn hard for his daughters.”  Maybe it was his own way to keep the anger and the adrenaline going, that made him go with you without even seeing Tommy first. But it was heart-breaking to listen to all the names, what kind of person the families had lost and how they ended their days.

You had agreed to visit the new buildings near the docks first. It was where Mick King’s men had attacked the workers. You passed the empty Davyhulme Park on your way and saw the dark empty building in front of you. There wasn’t any sounds to be heard outside but you were sure that there might still be some Blinders inside. You all hurried inside and the big entrance hall was dimly lit by beautiful chandeliers in the celling, you knew they were handmade for the place, as you had been sitting with the bills. It was a reflex for you to look up when you entered a huge greeting hall but this time it was pure terror to finally look down. It was like your ears had drowned out the cries of the men running around in the hall. Johnny ran to the nearest man that was lying on the floor as two other men stood over him. The man was not moving. All around the hall there was chaos. You could easily guess that they were gathering all the injured or deceased workers in the front hall so it would be easier to get help. Where was the help anyway?

“No one called for a doctor?” You asked the first of the workers that ran past you.

“We did, but we think the Scuttlers are keeping them away. It’s not only the police that can be bribed, miss.” He replied and hurried over to a man who was clenching his fists and moaning, as someone was cleaning what looked like a bullet wound in the man’s arm. All around you it was the same. You could count at least 5 people who were covered with jackets and other fabrics. A clear indication that they wanted the deceased to be respected. You caught the eyes of Johnny whose nostrils flared. The people who died here and got injured weren’t only Blinders but also innocent people who had taking honest work. You couldn’t let this pass and you knew that you must look as furious as Johnny at that moment.

“Can’t you tell Tommy to hurry the fuck up? This is getting way out of hand.” A man came up to you with rage in his eyes and a gash in his forehead that bled down over his eyes. It made him look insane.

“We’ll find the bastard. Tommy is on his way.” You said to him and you were sure that it was true. Johnny nodded, agreeing with what you said and whistled out in the hall to get everyone’s attention. The men you came with came up and stood beside you.

“We are going to find Mick King and end this once and for all. We will not stand for this anymore. If anyone can be spared here, you are welcome to join us.” Johnny roared out in the hall. A few men stood up and walked up to you in silence. They eyed you as to ask why you were there and not Tommy, but they must know who you were by now, because there weren’t any questions asked.

The workers that went with you could show you where the Scuttlers had their headquarter. It was a part it town that you hadn’t been to before, and for a good reason. The Salford district on the south bank was in many ways like Small Heath. A mix of small houses in poor condition and too many people. Once in a while you passed a slightly bigger house, but it was always near a factory or shops. It was clearly the owners that either lived there or had it as their second house. You were all tense while walking in the very dimly lit street, cursing the street lamps that made it hard to get use to the dark around you. Everyone could hide in the dark.

The men stopped at a corner on Earlham street and pointed down a narrow street called Shelton Street. Even though there wasn’t much light on the street, the bright yellow building stood out like a lighthouse. Grosvenor Prints was written on a huge blue sign over the façade. Was that really what Mick King used as the cover up for his dirty business? No one would believe a man was foul as King would own a simple print shop. The lights in the shop wasn’t on, but there was a smouldering light in the back, like there was someone still in the back rooms.

Without a second thought Johnny and one of the men from the new casino building rammed the door to the print shop and you reached down in your small purse and grabbed the small gun Tommy gave you. You had it with you everywhere since Tommy told you to keep it on you.

“We can’t just walk in there and kill them all! We don’t know how many they are!” One of the men behind you hissed and you turned around, glaring at them all. They stiffened up and it was very satisfying to see big men being tense by your stare alone.

“And why not, gentlemen? I’m going in.” You simply said and lifted your gun as you went.

“She’s going in with THAT gun?” One of them mumbled, but either way they went in right behind you.

You were just in time to see Johnny ram damn the next door and as he stumbled a little when he feel through, you stepped in and aimed at the first guy you saw. Cutting of every emotion and thought in the process except getting to Mick King.

“What the…” Was his last words before you placed a bullet right between his eyes. There were a lot of them but you had caught them off guard. Perhaps they hadn’t expected you so soon. You walked further in to make room for the men that roared behind you. They either attacked with guns or raw strength. Some of them ran straight into some of the men that barely got to stand up from the long tables before they were tumbling around on the floor with a brut of a Blinder on top of them. Hitting them repeatedly in the face with fists on the size of spades.

You stood there and looked around to see where you had just entered. All the men were wearing the signature flashy silk scarves around their neck. One of them was actually being choked in it. Ironic. There were fighting and gunshot that rung in between the big printing machines. However, Mick King was nowhere to be found. There was a staircase in the back of the large room and it looked much too fancy to be just a normal staircase to workers of a print shop. It was too refined and with many detailed cut-outs. It must be the way to the boss’ office if anything. You dodged behind one of the machines as the fighting came close to you. You walked along the wall, keeping out of the fight and with the gun in front of you.  You reached the end of the printer where the steam driven conveyor belt started and the newspapers were still spitting out for the day to come. As you were in sight again, one of the Scuttlers immidiatly broke from the fight and went after you. You were definitely going the right way. You pointed the gun at him and he held up his hands for you to stop.

“That is a pretty gun you have there, ma’am.” He spoke in a thick Manchester accent. He smirked at you while walking slowly towards you. You changed the gun and pointed it at his head.

“I don’t want to have to do this. I don’t hurt ladies as long as they behave.” Even though he was bigger than you in any possible way, you still had the upper hand. You were ready to shoot as a Blinder came up behind the man, took him by his middle and slammed him into the floor. The shock made him lay still long enough for you to step forward and with a smirk on your lips that matched his before, you looked into his scared face and pulled the trigger. The Blinder rose from the ground and looked at the man. He stood wide eyed for a second before he tilted his cap at you and went on with his work.

You hurried up the stairs two steps at a time. You came right in time for two men emerging from one of the side door in the hall you came up to. You immediately fired at the first dude, which went straight into his stomach.

“What is going…?” The other man yelled out and you recognized the voice. It was King. The man you had hit fell over on the floor clutching his stomach and moaning in agony. You went up him and placed a well-deserved bullet in his head to make the moaning stop and you turned to look into the room. It was a huge office with a big mahogany desk in the middle. The air was smoky, so they must have been sitting in there for a while. Was King not with his men, storming the Shelby building? What kind of leader was he? A pure coward. You stepped inside and looked around. You couldn’t see anyone but something rattled behind a wooden folding screen and without thinking you fired at it and saw how the bullet splintered the thin wood, but no one spoke up or at least grunted. Fuck! You had used your last bullet stupidly. You had to get out of there and obtain a new gun. You knew that Mick King would be able to overrun you in no time, so you had to leave him be for now.

You cursed under your breath as you ran down the stairs as fast as you could. You needed to be around some of your own, before you could think of a new strategy or maybe fetch some of them to search King’s office. The downstairs was mostly quiet. It seemed like most of the fighting was over and you hoped it was to your advantage. Or else you were caught in the middle of the Scuttlers headquarter without a way out.

It was impossible to get a clear view of who was standing and who was on the ground. You stepped over the body of the man you shot on the way to the stairs and pepped around one of the machines. You saw the back of a man that was holding another man up by the collar with one hand and landing a solid fist into the jaw of the poor thing. You were about to step closer as someone grabbed you by the ankle and pulled. You lost your balance and fell hard on your stomach and got the breath knocked out of you. You tried your best to turn around to see what had grabbed you, but as you turned, a body dragged itself further on you of you. You saw directly into a bloodied face. The man looked while with a bloodshot eye that was slowly closing as it swell and blood gushing from a wound on his forehead. He was gritting his teeth as he was dragging himself along by grabbing your clothing and pulled. You tried to kick at him but he grabbed your other leg too and kept them down. His leg was exposed as his pants were ripped and you saw the big hole that was ripped thought his flesh and left a bloody mess. Someone must have shot him with a rifle. The fear had overtaken you as his hands reached your face and scratched long lines. You had to close your eyes to not get an eye poked out by his dirty nails. He growled like an animal as you tried to kick and hit him from your position under him, but nothing seemed to affect him. It was your nightmare all over again.

He grabbed blindly at everything he could get his hands on and he caught the top of your dress and as he pulled, the fabric ripped and exposed your brassiere. You screamed to get a bigger force behind your hits but the man tumbled away from you and you opened your eyes to see someone kicking the man away from you. As soon the weight was lifted from you, you crawled backwards until you were leaned up against one of the machines that was vibrating as it still produced the newspaper after newspaper, not affected by what happened around it.

A gunshot rung in the air and you looked to your saviour. Tommy stood over the man with his smoking gun pointed at the man’s head. You hurried and collected the remains of your dress around you and supported you weight on the machine as you stood up. Tommy was at your side immediately. He grabbed your face in his free hand and it stung where the man had scratched you. You hissed a little which made Tommy’s eyes darker.

“Are you okay?” He asked. There was murder in his voice, but you knew that it wasn’t towards you, but the man that was already dead on the floor.

“I’m okay. But Mick King is upstairs. Go after him! He must still be there or still in the area. Go!” You yelled at him and pushed him in the direction of the stairs. Tommy let you push him away but he didn’t move any further. He made a hand gesture and Arthur came skipping up to you.

“Upstairs.” Tommy simply said and Arthur looked you over and you pulled at your torn dress again. He headed towards the stairs with a smirk on his face. It made Tommy huff and he pulled off his jacket. He reached it around you and let his hands rest on your hip.

“Tommy you need to do something. We were so close. I was in there with him but I…” You were cut off by Tommy.

“You were in the room with Mick King alone? Are you mad? You could have gotten yourself killed!” Tommy suddenly roared. He was intimidating as you stood there so close. His hands were still holding on to your hips gently, so you weren’t scared of him.

“We had to do something now that you didn’t do shit!”

“You cannot just throw yourself to the sharks, y/n! You don’t know how important you are to me and my family. We can’t lose you over some stupid shit like this!”

“It’s not some stupid shit when we almost got him! We could have ended this here today if it wasn’t because my gun only had 6 bullets!” You pulled away from him and went to see the front of the front of the room. You needed to see how many were left and if anyone of your men had died. Your men.

The room was filled with bodies lying around like they had been thrown. Maybe they had. Most of the men you had brought with you sat on or around the long tables the Scuttlers had been gathered around. A few was tending to each other’s wounds but some were hovering over bodies on the floor. Tommy reached you again and let an arm rest on your shoulder, as you took in what had happened there. At least two were dead of what you could see. But there wasn’t one single Scuttler standing.

“He’s gone. He ran away.” Arthur confirmed as he came back down.

“Can’t you see how close we got? It’s horrible that we lost people but at least we went down fighting and not just waiting for them to take us down one by one.” You explained. Johnny was looking at you from across the room and as the other Blinder had done earlier, he tipped his cap at you.

“I see that but I don’t want you to…” Tommy sighed but you interrupted him.

“It’s not you to decide. That’s me. I want to earn my place in the Blinders. They only know me as your girl. I want them to know me for my abilities too. I am capable of many things” You explained andgestured out in the room.

“Capable of making a mess. Let’s get out of here before he comes back with more men. He’s not going to keep quiet for long.”

“I’m not going anywhere before you promise to actually involving me in this from now on.” You said stubbornly. More of the Blinders looked expectantly at the two of you. John that had been crouching over one of the bodies stood up and inspected the conversation. Tommy drew in a sharp breath before his shoulders sacked a little and he looked like he was finally giving up.

“Okay okay. I promise. Just promise me that you won’t get yourself killed.” He said slightly panicky, as he looks around like he expected an attack any minute. You nodded and let him pull you into his body. His hand was holding onto your neck, keeping your cheek close to his chest. His heart was beating with an incredible speed and if you didn’t know better, you thought he must have been afraid.

Tommy loosed the grip on you when he had calmed down a bit. He held onto your hand and started to guide you towards the entrance of the print shop, but you stopped next to Johnny and let go of Tommy. Without saying a word, you let your arms fall around the man and he stiffened a little but patted your back lightly. To think that you who had problem with anyone touching you were the one to give out hugs.

“Thanks for trusting me, Johnny. What were the names of the men who lost their lives here?” You mumbled while still holding onto him.

“Eddie Sarratt and Rocky Bates Jr.” he said close to your ear. You let go of him and stepped back.

“Eddie Sarratt and Rocky Bates Jr. I am sorry that they had to die, but they fought bravely and I will never forget them. I will notify their families personally, if you can find their addresses.” As you said their names out loud, you looked to the bodies that was not lying next to each other on the floor, covered the surrounding men’s jackets.

“Will do, miss.” Johnny confirmed. You let Tommy put a protective arm around you middle and walk you out of the print shop. Now you just needed a new plan because there was only one place that Mick King could be safe and you were the only ones that would be able to get him there. Wilton House. Lady Isabella’s Casino on Barkeley Street.

——————————————-

Taglist:

@im-the-colourless-sunshine @fearthequeer595 @sununicorn @i-love-you-green @imnotsomewhore @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @hi-there-x @namiknows @imnotsomewhore @captivatedbycillianmurphy @irishgirl1995 @stalker83005 @stressedandbandobessed7771 @tuliptx @stydia-4-ever@ladymelissastark @yoheyyosup @calciferthelivingfire @actorinfluence @theamuz @affection-rabbit @jenepleurepasbaby @mango978 @csigeoblue @independentgirl @sweatydragoncloudknight @kiaoizz @rosedunne-shelby@greedysiren @adelinekam weebllespaces ldynblack  @barnestann​ @mssbelikova​ @hellsredskies​ @redmercysugar​ @astheworlddturns​ @annshit​ 

[earnestly-endlessly]

First, thank you SO MUCH for all the fic recs you’ve been blessing us with! I really appreciate all the time and effort you’ve put into making these. Second, could you recommend some historical AUs? Thank you and I hope you have a lovely day :D

Thank you so much for the kind words anon. It’s so good to hear that you guys like these recs. I really enjoy creating these lists and finding fics that are both well-loved but also those who are underrated in the fandom. 

I have a LOT of historical AU fics so I hope there are some you haven’t read before. The fics are, more or less, in chronological order, so it starts with Ancient Rome, moves on to the Middle Ages, then to Regency era, etc. etc. This should make it a tad easier to find fics from different eras. Enjoy! 

                                 Cherik Historical AU Fic Recs 

History Repeating – winterhill

Summary: From a kinkmeme prompt, this is a series of vignettes about Charles and Erik throughout the ages. Each chapter is written as a self-contained era.

Wanton in the Air – Rosie_Rues

Summary: In which Charles rescues a gladiator from the arena and soon becomes somewhat disconcerted by this handsome new slave and his sharksome grin.

Pantheon – Yahtzee

Summary: In the year 96 AD, all Rome is aware that their gods have begun to Mark certain people with their gifts – the healing power of Apollo, the metal control of Vulcan, the deathly touch of Pluto, or the mental powers of Minerva. When those gifts fall to slaves or barbarians instead of the Romans themselves, strict control is necessary.

Then a gladiator from Judea meets an enslaved scribe from Britannia, and the repercussions will shake the Empire itself.

Taken By His Majesty – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik’s mission was simple, sneak into the Celtic pretender king’s tent, assassinate him, and return to Rome with his father’s honor restored. Unfortunately, he didn’t count on Charles. When the prince chooses to take him as his personal slave, Erik feared the worst, and his concerns weren’t entirely unwarranted. The worst, however, turns out to be falling in love with the greatest enemy of Rome’s primacy in Briton. A historical romance set during the early days of Rome’s occupation of Briton.

Terrible with the brightness of gold – brawlingdiscontent

Summary: The war is lost.

With the futures of his people and his children at stake, former Crown consort Charles of Normandy awaits the arrival of England’s new master, the fearsome Viking warrior, Erik Lehnsherr. (Inspired by 11th century historical events)

“For who could look upon the lions of the foe, terrible with the brightness of gold, who upon the men of metal, menacing with golden face, … who upon the bulls on the ships threatening death, their horns shining with gold, without feeling any fear for the king of such a force?” - Encomium Emmae Reginae

Burn Your Kingdom Down – spicedpiano

Summary: Erik’s people were brutally massacred when the Crusaders took Jerusalem. The sole survivor, Erik fled to northern Europe, only then to be captured as a thrall by Viking raiders. Since that day he has fought his way up to leading a group of Vikings on an invasion of the Christian mainland, killing every Crusader he can find. But when he captures a thrall of his own, a young witch who gives his name only as Charles, he discovers that there is a darker magic than his at work - and the fate of the known world may rest in his hands.

More Than All The World (The Werewolf’s Tale) – Luninosity

Summary: An Erik/Charles story very loosely based on Marie de France’s 12th-century French werewolf tale, in which Erik is the man transformed into a wolf (he’ll get changed back by the end, it’s not that kind of story, though they very definitely do fall in love) and Charles is a king and eventually there’s a happy ending. Also, a villain’s nose gets bitten off.

The Conspirator’s Gift – kaydeefalls

Summary: Medieval mystery AU. In the aftermath of a bloody siege during the 12th-century English Anarchy, the monk Henry and tradesman Erik discover evidence of murder: one corpse too many hidden among the fallen rebels. To see justice done, Erik must tread carefully through the conflicting and treacherous loyalties of civil war, as well as the potentially dangerous schemes of the enigmatic young Lord Xavier.

As Dark Longs For Day – Yahtzee

Summary: A daring young thief escapes from the wicked bishop’s dungeons, thinking herself free – until she encounters a rider with a black horse, a tame hawk and a dark secret. And who is this mysterious young man who only appears at night, accompanied by a protective wolf?

No Longer in Silence – Black_Betty

Summary: It has been eight years since Charles has seen Erik. Eight years since they parted under unkind circumstances and Erik went off to sea. The boy he once knew is Captain Lehnsherr now and they are as known to one another as strangers, and yet–Charles finds that eight years has done nothing to diminish the feelings he had when he was 16 and in love. It’s unfortunate then that Erik doesn’t feel the same way. (Persuasion AU)

Dance With Me – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe)

Summary: After his most recent tour, Erik Lehnsherr has finally earned the rank of Captain and a commission on a vessel all his own. With the prize money he has collected and this new rank, he finally feels secure enough in his future to propose to the man he has loved for years. He just prays that Charles is willing to have him.

Connexions – keire_ke

Summary: When Mr Lehnsherr of Thornfield first began seeking a tutor suited to educate his young daughter, he could hardly have expected the young gentleman who turned up at his door, nor the connection they would forge.

The Master of Charlton Park – Gerec

Summary: On the brink of losing his ancestral home, omega Charles Xavier agreed to do the unthinkable; he would sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of his family, and bear a child for a married alpha and his mate.

But Charles never expected that alpha to be Erik Lehnsherr, with whom he shared an impossible love and undeniable passion.

Move Still – Black_Betty

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hates dancing, but has a very specific reason for throwing a ball…

To Turn and Look When Thou Hearest the Sound of My Name – lachatblanche

Summary: North and South AU.

Erik, the master of the Genosha steel mill in the north, has lived a hard life, building his industry from scratch with the aid of his adopted sibling, Emma. When Charles Xavier, a young, southern gentleman, takes up residence near the mill, Erik finds himself drawn to him, despite Charles making it very clear that he cares neither for the north nor for Erik.

Based on Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel (takes place about midway through the story).

Frost fairs and fair frosts – diner_drama

Summary: The social circles of the upper end of London were in uproar - not only had the Thames frozen over, but the atypical weather had also prompted the mysterious and uncanny Dr. Xavier and his peculiar young charges to make the journey all the way from his mansion in Chester.

Erik Lehnsherr was not entirely certain that he could countenance meeting another of Mrs. Frost’s high society friends without suffering a violent fit of apoplexy, but perhaps the charming country doctor could break through his iron defences.

What We All Long For –  Nos4a2no9

Summary: Charles Xavier was heir to a vast fortune before his stepfather stole his birthright, his dignity, and his freedom. Forced to serve as Kurt Marko’s informant and as a sexual plaything for the wealthy men of Europe’s upper crust, Charles yearns for nothing more than a quiet life free from shame and abuse.

The death of his stepfather seems to offer a way out, but Charles is once again forced to serve the Markos when his stepbrother offers him up as collateral in a game of chance. Suddenly Charles becomes the property of Erik Lehnsherr, a mysterious gambler with a thirst for revenge.

When love between the two men begins to blossom, Charles finally discovers what is at the heart of Erik’s tragic story, and why he is set upon a devastating course of revenge that will endanger Erik, Charles, and everything they have longed for.

Roses & Cinnamon – TurtleTotem

Summary: Charles Xavier lost more than his leg in the war with Napoleon, and the man he’s just pulled out of the water has ghosts of his own – especially when Charles’s involuntary projected hallucinations prove catching. Raven, meanwhile, faces the choice of whether to marry respectably or run away with a carnival fortune-teller.

Ironwood Hall – wheel_pen

Summary: Erik and Emma are Alpha siblings living in an ancient house in the Victorian era… a house that has strong opinions about who its family should marry, that has dispatched unsuitable spouses in the past. The latest candidate? A creative young Omega named Charles Xavier.

Somewhere between Rage and Serenity – Hyperballad

Summary: Charles Xavier is Erik Lehnsherr’s servant in this fic, set in the late Victorian period. Although Charles was quietly enamored with his employer, he had no intimation that the other was equally infatuated with him. Only with the coming of a dark force in their lives would these feelings be brought to light and it will test the strength of their will. Would the raging lust win over a tranquil heart?

In a Compromising Position – Fireflydown (Hyperballad)

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is Charles Xavier’s newly hired manservant in his Victorian Household. He may be cheeky at times and amiable towards his master but he holds a dangerous secret that would trigger the following events and it will change both their lives forever.

Better Outrun My Gun – Magnetism_bind

Summary: Erik is searching for the man who murdered his parents. Charles runs a saloon with his sisters.

Taming the Wild – Penguina

Summary: A Cherik Wild West AU: Mutants in the Wild West.

Charles Xavier finds himself crossing the entire ocean to America to find his sister Raven. However the task turns out to be more difficult than he expected because Raven is nowhere to be found.

In the meantime Charles settles in a small town where he starts a new life as a school teacher. There he meets Erik Lehnsherr - the town’s blacksmith. Although at first he believes Erik is the rudest person he’s ever met, the two start a friendship and Charles becomes a teacher to Erik’s kids.

However both Charles and Erik have their own little secrets that no one should ever uncover.

Would Charles find his beloved sister and is she still alright? Would Erik’s tragic past haunt him forever and prevent him from finding his happiness? Would Charles have the guts to admit that his feelings for his new friend are a bit past the line of friendship? This and more in Taming the Wild!

The Gunpowder Files – Tawabids

Summary: In a 19th century Britain, the wealthy Xavier-Marko couple pay Erik, a hired killer, to put their disabled son Charles “out of his misery”. Instead, Erik saves Charles from dealing with those kind of parents ever again. Charles follows Erik back to London and eventually convinces the assassin to take him under his wing and teach him the trade. When their lives cross paths with a destructive opium cartel led by the shadowy Sebastian Shaw, they decide to take down the businessman down no matter the cost.

Steel Roses – Mikanskey, ximeria

Summary: The year is 1864. While unrest brews in Europe, Charles Xavier is finally able to start his research after spending years trying to find funding. Riding the tailcoats of Charles Darwin, he sets out into the British countryside to find out how much truth there is in folklore, how much of it that can be explained by his own kind, gifted humans with special abilities.

Little does he expect to find new friends, new challenges, a budding attraction both emotionally and physically. Not to mention an enemy with far more nefarious and sinister plans than he could have ever imagined.

Erik Lehnsherr is set with a good business, a manor and grounds, staff and acquaintances he can lean on if needed. However, having tracked down and killed the man who killed his parents, he feels adrift, wondering if this is where he’s supposed to end his life; a respectable man with a respectable business.

Dragging a drowning Englishman out of the river starts him down an entirely unforeseen, but not necessarily, unwelcome path.

They were Paris… – Mikanskey

Summary: Paris, at the end of the 19th century.

This is where Erik decided for a while to lay down his meager luggage.

This is where he hoped to find calm and inspiration for his art.

But instead this is where he found love…

With pulses that beat double – aesc

Summary: It has been thirteen years since Charles watched his beloved childhood companion walk out of his life. Now, in fin-de-siècle Paris, a chance overheard remark may lead them to each other’s sides once more.

The Body in the Bedroom – telperion_15

Summary: Autumn, 1909 – Viscount Charles Xavier has invited friends and acquaintances to spend the weekend, hoping for good company and interesting conversation. But he doesn’t bank on murder being committed under his roof, nor his growing interest in the enigmatic Erik Lehnsherr…

In which there is a country house party (what else?), murder most foul (of course), and almost everyone’s a suspect (naturally).

Your soul is a chosen country – aesc

Summary: He sends letters, of course, because out in the sticks there’s not much to do except tend to Westchester’s endless affairs. And, of course, avoid tending to those affairs by going on walks, riding, and writing letters that make him hard and thrill secretly when he hands the properly-sealed, addressed envelope to the butler.

I was in London the other day, and in a bookseller’s along The Strand I found the most interesting and instructive volume. Or rather, it would have proved instructive if we had not already worked our way through much of the repertoire.

Blue Skies – baehj2915, marourin

Summary: At the tail end of the 1920s, the Twentieth Century is finally changing for the better. When Charles and Erik meet, it seems like an appropriate expression of the zeitgeist–a confluence of passion, romance, and change. But the good times never last. Erik and Charles have to discover if they can weather the gray days together, or at all.

A September as Sunny as Spring – Black_Betty, ikeracity, keire_ke

Summary: Charles Xavier was part of a famous vaudeville act before an accident cost him his career and his ability to walk. He’s pulled together a new life as a musician in Hollywood, but is finding it difficult to navigate his feelings for his old friend and partner, Erik Lehnsherr, the most sought after matinee idol of their generation.

Famous film duo Frost and Lehnsherr are two of the most well-known and admired mutants in the public eye, having built their fame and fortune on silent film blockbusters.When the rise of the new “talking pictures” phenomenon threatens all their careers, they must band together to try to prove that their days of stardom are far from over.

Lay with Me Amongst the Grapevines – kageillusionz

Summary: Young Master Charles’ friend from Oxford comes to stay with him at Westchester House during their break. Their relationship changes over the course of Mr. Lehnsherr’s stay, warmed by the summer sunshine and their mutual affection.

The Eldest of the Gods – lapetitesinge

Summary: It’s 1928, and sixteen-year-old Charles Xavier is intrigued by the new boy joining him at Eton College. He’s thrilled to realize that they may be alike in more ways than one, but there’s more standing between them than he can possibly guess.

Robbers – dsrobertson

Summary: 1933. Bank robber AU.

The Bureau of Investigation are after Public Enemy Number Two, bank robber Erik Lehnsherr. Charles Xavier is fiancé to Special Agent Moira MacTaggart. A closet homosexual, Charles visits the Manhattan pansy club scene and meets Max Eisenhardt. Only as time goes on, Max Eisenhardt turns out to be Erik Lehnsherr. Public Enemy Number Two.

Charles learns exactly what happens when you accidentally fall in love with a male bank robber in 1930s America.

Sign of the Times – dsrobertson

Summary: Casablanca-ish AU.

Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr in Paris, 1937. They spend the next two years with one another, stupid in-love, until war comes heavy in September 1939. Erik leaves for Poland and the Resistance movement there, promising to return. Charles is left in Paris, where Nazi jackboots march in, Summer of 1940. He becomes a member of the underground French Resistance, publishing illegal newsletters, leaflets, until news comes through in February 1942: Erik is dead. Charles throws himself into more dangerous work, meeting with Communists, helping derail a German train, and he does too much, goes too far. His friends find him safe passage out of France, out across the Mediterranean, to Morocco, Casablanca. It is here he finds Erik, alive.

Alone No more – MacandLacy

Summary: Erik and Charles each thought that they were alone. When they meet as children and discover otherwise, it changes their lives. Set before and during World War II.

The footsteps of uprooted lovers – ninemoons42

Summary: Against a turbulent backdrop of artistic, social, and political upheaval, the playwright Charles Xavier and the photographer Erik Lehnsherr find themselves meeting under less-than-polite circumstances, but part rather more amicably than they’d met.

When they find each other again in a Barcelona that is falling inexorably toward war, they find themselves taking up arms, each in his own way, and together they join a struggle for freedom, for love, and for their very lives.

Theme and Variations: War – ninemoons42

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a musical prodigy and a man destined for great things and great stages. But his life is shattered by a terrible accident that leaves him blind and trying to find his way back to his life, his music, and his place in the world.

Then he meets Charles Xavier, an agent of Section 8 of the Military Intelligence Directorate of Providence, and he finds himself listening in to clandestine radio transmissions and clicking Morse code, and these sounds are part and parcel of a war that can only take place in the shadows and the hidden places of history.

Hier steh ich an Marken meiner Tage – MonstrousRegiment

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

“You’re the only person in the world who knows what I am.”

A fish hook; an open eye – fabeld

Summary: Charles Xavier’s wealth protects him from mandatory service in the British Armed Forces, but he refuses to sit idly by when his telepathy can be used to assist the Allied Powers. As a British spy, Charles gains the Nazi Party’s trust and is sent to Paris to complete one last mission. His plan is disrupted when he runs into someone he never thought he would see again.

WWII AU with nods to Atonement.

A Light That Never Goes Out – R_Cookie

Summary: It was meant to be the war to end all wars; these two men were never supposed to meet. One a German Jew, the other a British surgeon. The odds that their paths should cross were next to none - but War defies the expected. It always has, and always will.

From the beaches of Dunkirk to the treacherous slopes of Monte Cassino - this is their story.

WWII AU.

Xmas in Connecticut – Yahtzee

Summary: In December 1944, the entire nation loves Rebecca Lawrence - “America’s Most Beloved Homemaker.” Her columns about leading the ideal life in the country help lift people’s spirits on the home front during World War II. But when her publisher asks her to host a war hero for Christmas dinner, the world is in danger of learning the truth … which is that “Rebecca Lawrence” is imaginary. Really, she’s a combination of Raven’s snappy writing and Charles’ knowhow in the kitchen.

However, this war hero, Erik Lehnsherr, is headed to Connecticut, so Raven and Charles have no choice but to find a way to make the imaginary real - at least,

Infamy – Yahtzee

Summary: In the aftermath of the Second World War, Erik Lehnsherr – survivor of Dachau, former resistance fighter in Occupied Europe – joins forces with US intelligence to hunt down escaped Nazis. A sensitive mission in Rio de Janeiro calls for Erik to recruit a new operative … one nobody is sure whether to trust. Charles Xavier is the stepson of convicted Nazi spy Kurt Marko, a rapidly worsening drunkard and a homosexual who hardly even bothers to hide his predilections. Hardly ideal.

But Charles is the only person with any chance of getting close to Sebastian Shaw. The one man who might allow them to complete the mission.

And although Erik’s business is keeping secrets, Charles brings something out in him that he’s worked desperately to hide –

What Dreams May Come – AnnaMcb24

Summary: Erik is a holocaust survivor who has recently lost his wife–the only person in his life who kept him sane. He continues to suffer in his dreams–facing the same agonies that plagued him in his early life–until one day he dreams of a young boy who endeavours to free Erik from his subconscious prison. However, the boy holds a great many secrets and, while he works to save Erik, Erik works to reveal his saviour’s identity.

Meanwhile, young Raven Xavier has lost her mother and is slowly uncovering the secrets of her family home–secrets that will lead her directly to one Erik Lehnsherr.

By Faint Indirections - kianspo

Summary: Erik is in his ~50s, and lonely and bitter. He survived the Holocaust and was only ~14 when the war ended; and even ~40 years later, living in a country that helped to end WW2 and the Third Reich, homosexuality is still a taboo topic. Then one day, he stumbles over Charles, who is young(early 20s) and bright and smart and cheeky and full of energy and beautiful. And moving in the same street where Erik lives.

[parkerxchesteruwu]

Chapter 1: Danger

Beads of sweat fell from his face as he struggled to keep his breath manually altered, rhythmic and tranquil, holding himself from the flickering flame beneath his own skin. He could feel the wick he’d shown to the world slowly begin to spark; a lighter was being held up against his heart and he was letting it happen.

He’d always found himself to be the skeptical type - never stopping to listen to something out of his own field of view. Even the most stubborn were aware of their own stubborn tendencies. But now, in this light, when things were dim, he’d become open to possibility. Whether crawling too close to the moonlit fire was dangerous was up for interpretation.

“Parker..”

His own name rolled off the tongue of the man beneath him. The darkness struggled to highlight the smaller’s features, but even now he could pinpoint the rigid jawline and angular facial characteristics of his best friend. What had led them to be so close, lips moments away from connecting, was beyond him - one booze after another fogs the brain. His breaths were labored, and smelt like alcohol. He knew it was only the chemicals in his brain that were making him act like this; and even so, it felt right. The crisp lines of light from the half-open blinds shining illumination onto the other man’s features told him so. In the harshness - helplessness of the moment, he couldn’t help but say his friend’s name back.

“Chester.”

-

“Hey, dude, come have a look at this.”

Parker’s eyelids fluttered at his best friend’s voice. He stood in the corner of the room the two of them always found themselves in; Parker’s kitchen, where they’d edit content for money and split the pay at the end. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy making videos to put on youtube, though there were cons. Having corporate business owners ask him, ‘What do you do for a living?’ was a problem in itself. But he knew he had it well enough. 

Parker responded to Chester’s words with a frenzied smile - he knew the drowsiness of the half-open blinds revealing nothing but black and strips of illumination were getting to him. Sleepless nights of editing footage for a video that’d probably get copyright stricken within a day did numbers on the man’s strength to stay awake. His ambition to work normally coincided with his desire to create - his stubborn tendencies, maybe. He’d been told in his early childhood something along the lines of ‘When you start things, you see it through to its completion’. Parker supposed that was productive in all the ways it could be; but in terms of his mental health, that’s where things plummeted. 

Without a worded response, Chester’s eyes darted to the figure making his way over, and he cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms, leaning back on the wooden chair he comfortably sat at. “Can’t you turn on the lights or something?” He stifled back a chuckle at Parker’s drowsy state, “The blinds are making your forehead look shinier than your career.”

“Our career,” Parker retaliated with a playful undertone. Their banter was always something he savored with a gentle delicacy - it was something only they could have, and it was personal. Their mixing personalities intertwining together to make whatever their lives were brought a special touch to Parker’s daily struggle. It was the lighter of an unlit hole - the fire in a dark cave. Something he held onto with a passion. A stubborn, arrogant passion.

Chester smiled with sincerity. “Anyway, take a look.” His hands gestured to a laptop screen with its brightness at the lowest setting - requested by Parker himself - displaying an email inbox they’d come back to every couple of weeks. the same old same old, but he savored it. He savored everything when it came to Chester.

“What am I looking at?” Parker bit back a grin. He could feel his friend’s all-so-familiar glare seething into his features, and then came the scoff. “The email.” Parker saw it crystal clear. “Which one?”

“Parker.” Chester’s tone was a little more serious, and he still managed to forget he was smiling. Parker could pinpoint the exact curvature he’d see when the smaller man grinned. It was something he did a lot, according to Parker; he was bad at pretending to feel something he wasn’t. Lying was a given weak point, too. 

“Sorry, sorry.”

His eyelids drifted into pale submission as Parker found himself lowering to Chester’s point of view - he stared at the screen and read through what he was instructed to; a video proposal, and an idea. A muttered “What do you think?” came from his best friend, left unto Parker. Parker’s thoughts.

“I think,” He began, leaning upwards again and placing a hand on the table Chester sat at, gripping the wooden ledge. “We should worry about it tomorrow.” The light dripping through from the half-open blinds hit his irises in just the right spot and he had to blink. “Be serious.” Parker bit back with a nonchalant glare. “Be quiet.”

He found his feet propelling him to a colder part of the kitchen, locking eyes with the food-bank; the fridge. Unstable cognition and the need for relief brought his hands to the freezer, pulling on the handle in safety. He felt safe, like this. 

He could feel Chester’s eyes glued onto his figure. He reached into the freezing compartment and grabbed hold of an icy cold beer - a bottle he could hold onto without it slipping from his hands. His hands fit around it nicely. He stopped for a moment, and in the silence he’d grabbed another - not for himself, but for his friend.

“You can’t get drunk while we’re working.” Chester scoffed, typing away at his laptop’s keyboard. “Nobody said I was getting drunk. Just a few drinks, is all..” He closed the freezer with a nudge of his foot, “Besides. You should be thanking me.” Chester’s eyes darted from the screen to Parker’s hands and he rolled them in his realization. “I brought you one too.”

“Oh, however will I repay you for this kind act..” Chester’s sarcastic tone lingered on his words, falling off his tongue like they were meant to be. Parker took the opportunity. “Drink with me.” He found a seat next to Chester and placed the two bottles on the table, small drops of icy water falling onto the table. It probably tasted refreshing, by the look of it. Though dimly lit, it felt like they were in one of those beer ads.

To enjoy something like this with his friend was something he savored, too. Everything was held onto when it came to Chester - looks, and smiles, and words. A gentle admiration he displayed in small acts of sarcasm. He really adored his friend.. and he was surprised he’d stuck around to deal with someone like him, too.

“Just for you, your majesty.” Chester stifled an ‘annoyed’ grin and took hold of one of the bottles, leading Parker to do the same. “Cheers.”

Parker knew that he was tough to be around. Even in his good moments, he was to-the-point, and a skeptic. He’d be left with strong, solid evidence and still want to go further. He was one to go beyond his limits - his personal boundaries - and he knew it was dangerous, but the edge of it kept him going. Out with the old, and in with the new. Things were always new with Chester.

They took a swig in dismembered sync, feeling the icy cold substance fall down their throats and into their body system. It was relieving, and sharp, and had an edge to it that was dangerous. Parker knew he’d be getting drunk that night; the first sip had pulled him into that mindset. but at least he’d be getting drunk with Chester.

Drinks and drinks, laugh after laugh, his clock out of service and the night still apparent. They were in Parker’s living room now, on their 3rd, or 2nd, or something along the lines of that. Parker’s distinguishable features were covered by the blindspot of their dimly-lit illumination, as were Chester’s.

He felt safe like this. Even in his intoxicated state, he felt safe, knowing he could spend his nights savoring these moments like he always did. He savored Chester. What did it mean, to savor Chester?

“So...” Chester was in the middle of speaking through slurred sentences and giddy hiccups. He wasn’t new to the feeling of being drunk; of course, you’re not always aware of it when it happens. But he knew when Parker had sat next to him that it was how the night would end, and he’d accepted it before his mouth could say it straight.

The blinds’ lights shifted as a passing car’s headlights focused the illumination on a different part of the open spaces, and Chester’s features - his angular jawline, and rigid facial characteristics - were heightened, through the crisp sheen of light. It was only for a split second, but through the blurred moments and loss of time it felt too long to be normal. A moment where everything Parker savored was there, in front of him, in safety. He felt safe like this, in savor. But he also knew he had a knack for going over the edge. Feeling dangerous.

Before he could pinpoint what he was doing, his own desire to feel unsafe poured over him, and his glares became heavier, and more personal. He felt safe like this, but he loved to go beyond the boundary. Cross the line, just to see how it goes.

It seemed like Chester noticed it too. His breaths became shorter, but deeper, if that made any sense. The alcohol had gotten to the two of them hours ago and the air felt hot. Thick. Passing cars became the only noises beyond their own breaths. This was the taste-test of beyond savor - beyond Parker’s limit, his own morals, and his own thoughts. He knew it was weird of him to be like this. He knew it was wrong, because he’d never think of Chester of anything other than his friend. But that’s what he felt safe in, and he was ravenous for danger.

He moved closer. He liked the way danger felt. Sharp, and blunt, all at the same time. Chester’s grip on his bottle faltered as he placed his beer down on the coffee table near the couch. In his arrogance, he knew that Chester was aware of his hunger, and whether he was hungry too was beyond him.

Thick. Thick, and heavy, the air felt almost intoxicating to hold in his lungs. This was scary, and this was dangerous. The way the adrenaline pumped through him was addicting.

There was no time to savor, now. Opportunity arose and Parker was ready to fall victim to his arrogance. Once starting something, he’d see it through to its completion. 

A hand moved to Chester’s thigh, clothed in demin jean he couldn’t remember the colour of in the dim light. After a moment of thick silence and awaited protest, the flags of danger rung in his brain, realizing Chester was not stopping this. The hunger for danger.. all of it, turned to Chester, his best friend. Savoring Chester was just a fool’s copout for the hint of something more beneath his glares. No words. Just thoughts, and emotions, and silent compliance. he wanted this. Chester wanted danger, too.

Beads of sweat fell from his face as he struggled to keep his breath manually altered, rhythmic and tranquil, holding himself from the flickering flame beneath his own skin. He could feel the wick he’d shown to the world slowly begin to spark; a lighter was being held up against his heart and he was letting it happen.

He’d always found himself to be the skeptical type - never stopping to listen to something out of his own field of view. Even the most stubborn were aware of their own stubborn tendencies. But now, in this light, when things were dim, he’d become open to possibility. Whether crawling too close to the moonlit fire was dangerous was up for interpretation.

“Parker..”

His own name rolled off the tongue of the man beneath him. The darkness struggled to highlight the smaller’s features, but even now he could pinpoint the rigid jawline and angular facial characteristics of his best friend. What had led them to be so close, lips moments away from connecting, was beyond him - one booze after another fogs the brain. His breaths were labored, and smelt like alcohol. He knew it was only the chemicals in his brain that were making him act like this; and even so, it felt right. The crisp lines of light from the half-open blinds shining illumination onto the other man’s features told him so. In the harshness - helplessness of the moment, he couldn’t help but push himself onto the man, kissing him with silent fury, only to pull away and say his friend’s name back.

“Chester.”

[sarahegerton96]

My Saviour-Taron Egerton

This is something Ive been working of for close to 3 weeks, final work count is 11′500 words approx, hope yous enjoy it :)

Y/N:

“Goddammit all to hell! Y/N!”

My boss’s voice rang out through the office, and out of the corner of my eye I saw several people wince at the tone. I kept my face blank even though I wanted to do the same thing, dreading going into his office. I took a silent, deep breath as I pushed away from my desk and walked into Mr. Walker’s office.

“Yes, Mr. Walker?” I kept my voice neutral, knowing it was the safest route. My eyes widened as I took in the scene on his desk, knowing this was bad. Oh, so very bad.

Spilled coffee covered the posters spread out on his desk, posters that he needed for a presentation he’d been working on for months for a huge client.

Of course, when I say he’d been working on them, I meant the team he bullied around. He’d been bragging about this client since the moment they were assigned to him, telling anyone who cared to listen- and many who didn’t- that this one was sure to land him a promotion and an office upstairs. So naturally, he had other people do the work for him.

Chester Walker was what I liked to call a brilliant idiot. He couldn’t do any actual work with any intelligence, but he somehow figured out a way to keep climbing up the ladder. Either he knew exactly how to blame the right people when things went wrong, or his daddy placed money in the grubby hands of the higher ups. Probably a little bit of both.

“I need you to get down to the third level and have them print another copy of this presentation. Run, yell, do what you fucking have to in order to get this to me on time.” He was already trying to clean the mess up off his desk, not looking at me once.

“B-but, sir, it’s going to take at least 20 minutes for those to print again. The meeting is in less than five!”

He looked up from his desk, his thin hair falling over his sweaty face as he glared at me. “Well then you should’ve been down there fifteen minutes ago! Just get your ass down there and bring them up to the meeting when they’re done.”

I snapped my mouth shut, fuming silently as I rushed away to do his bidding. There was no point in arguing that there was no fucking way I could’ve had them reprinted for him on time when he literally just ruined them. He’d only yell some more, wasting both our time. And there was no way I could just tell him to go to hell- I needed this job, as much as I hated it.

I burst into the printing room, and my eyes locked onto one of my best friends. Samantha saw me, and the look on her face must have clued her in to how desperate I was.

“What do you need, girl?”

“Chester just spilled coffee all over his presentation for the meeting that starts in,” I glanced at the clock on the wall, “thirty seconds.”

“Shit,” she muttered. Placing her hands around her mouth, she yelled out to the three other workers down there. “Everyone, drop what you’re doing. Start reprinting Chester’s stupid posters. My girl needs ‘em!”

I relaxed just a bit as she turned back to me with a grim smile, the other workers clacking away on their keyboards to find the project she was talking about. Everyone in the building knew who Chester was. He made sure of that.

“With everyone printing different pages, we can cut the time in half. Sorry I can’t do more than that, sugar.”

“It’s alright Sammy. That’s better than nothing."She sighed and turned to her own computer, pulling up the project in the database history and calling out which pages she wanted everyone printing. I paced back and forth along the carpet, watching the clock tick by second by grueling second.

Eleven minutes later, I was pounding up the stairs towards the ninth floor where the meeting was. I knew it was a risk going into the meeting sweaty and out of breath, but I was desperate to get there as fast as possible. Thank god I wasn’t completely out of shape, or they would’ve found me dead in the stairwell after three of the seven flights I had to climb.

I shoved open the last door, gasping and panting but glad no one in the meeting could see me from here. I leaned against the door, closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down before walking at a clipped pace to the meeting room. I knocked on the door sharply and waited for Chester to invite me in- as I knew he preferred.

I kept my breathing as steady as possible while I walked to the front of the room where Chester held court. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, burning into my skirt and blouse that I hoped to god didn’t show how sweaty I was.

"Took you long enough, Y/N. I apologize again gentleman. I’m sure you all know how hard it is to find good help.”

Tittering laughter filled the room at Chester’s words as I stiffly shoved the posters at him.“Careful girl, you already ruined the first set.” Chester’s snide words made my back stiffen and I opened my mouth to contradict him. He raised an eyebrow at me, shooting a glance towards the rest of the table and my mouth snapped right back shut. If I mouthed off to him in front of these people, I was for sure going to lose my job.

“Sorry,” I grit out. I knew had to get out of there before I exploded. I spun on my heels as Chester began his presentation, his nasally voice grating on my every nerve as I mentally eviscerated him.

TARON :

I watched in fascinated rapture as the woman stomped out of the room, steam nearly blowing out her ears. She kept her head high, her hazel eyes flashing fire. Her strawberry blonde ponytail swung quickly, the tips of her hair brushing the small of her back. She was a tiny thing, probably 5'2" without the wicked heels she was wearing if I had to take a guess, and slender with just enough curves to fill my hands.

And fuck, did I want those curves in my hands.

“Mr. Egerton ?”

I jerked my head back to the other side of the table where the piece of shit my company had been dealing with over the last few months was standing.

I merely stared at him, not saying a word. It didn’t take long for him to drop his eyes, and satisfaction filled me. He coughed awkwardly, then continued with his presentation. I tuned him out as my mind drifted back to the woman.

Y/N. I scrunched my nose, thinking that the name didn’t really fit her. It sounded too… delicate. And even though she was a small thing, she had steel in those bones of hers. No, she wasn’t anything like a flimsy piece of lace.

A man a couple seats down to my right was speaking now, and I finally tuned into the conversation.

“As you can see by the charts up on the board, we project that sales would go up by at least 15% with in the next year after implementing said changes.”

“Only 15%?” My voice rang out in the room, and everyone turned to me. “By my math, if all the changes that I expect to be put in to place go well, there should be a 27% increase and that’s just within the first eight months.”

Chester’s face went bright red and he glared at the other man. “Did you input all of the data I gave you David?”

“Y-yes sir, I know I did.” He started flipping though the pages of a folder in front of him, his face pale as he frantically searched for the info.

“Obviously you didn’t.” Chester’s sneer was nasty, and my blood boiled even hotter at the way he was acting. I ran a goddamn tight ship, but I always treated my employees with respect. This was only fire on the flames of the annoyance I’d had with him since the beginning, plus the way I’d nearly jumped out of my chair and strangled him with the way he’d talked to Y/N.

“Enough,” I said harshly as I stood. “I’ve heard plenty. David, come with me.” I turned and walked out of the room without a backward glance, knowing that everyone on my team would automatically follow; as would David. My reputation as a ruthless business man was slightly exaggerated but it wasn’t inaccurate, and I used that infamy to my advantage when I had to.“David.” In the next second the man was hurrying to walk beside me, his mouth opening, probably to make another apology. I interrupted him before he could even begin. “Where is Y/N?”

“Who?” I glanced to him to see him confused, and I realized I referred to her by my own nickname for her.“Y/N.”

“Oh. Um, this way.” He motioned to the left toward the elevators. “She’s three floors below, where Mr. Walker’s office is.”

“What’s her role here?”

“She’s his… assistant.” He pushed the elevator call button.

I turned to my associates. “Gary, Emily, Reid. Go ahead on to the office, I’ll be there shortly.” They all looked at me with a little bit of curiosity, knowing this wasn’t my usual m.o.

“You got it boss,” Gary finally responded. I rolled my eyes at him, ignoring his chuckle as I turned back to David, all of us stepping into the elevator.

“Now why did you hesitate when you said she was his assistant?"David swallowed hard, but kept eye contact. A kernel of respect for him grew, knowing that not everyone was able to do that when I was in a mood.

"Well, that’s what she is. He calls her his 'glorified secretary’ though.” The distaste was obvious in his voice and stamped all over his face. My respect for him grew a few more notches.

“Hmm. Can I see the file?” He handed it over to me without hesitation, and I shuffled through the papers. I found and email to David from Chester, notes about the data for today’s projections. I immediately noticed several important factors were missing, and I quickly figured out that those numbers would have affected the data and given us exactly what was presented to me today.

It was obvious that Chester had failed to pass on all the information I’d needed for David to correctly prepare the presentation. It wouldn’t surprise me to find that Chester had barely done any of the work for this, only wanting to take the credit when all was said and done. I made a noise of disgust in my throat, closing the file and handing it back to David.“Sir?” David was looking at me warily, and I was sure all my rage and frustration was showing on my face. The elevator stopped, pinging to let us know we were on the floor we needed.“Take me to Y/N.”

Y/N:

I slammed another desk drawer shut, taking my anger out on the poor thing. Everyone had been avoiding me for the last half hour. Wisely. I was in no mood to deal with anyone else’s bullshit today. In fact, I was just getting ready to leave early. I didn’t care if Chester got mad at me for it, there was no way I was staying here to help him after he lied and threw me under the bus in front of everyone earlier.

I took my note to Chester to his office, grumbling out loud to myself the whole way. It was a bad habit of mine, but one I hadn’t been able to get rid of.“He’s so freakin’ stupid. I don’t know why he even wants this job, when he doesn’t know anything. I mean, that’s just got to be so stressful. Well I guess if you’re smart it would be, but he’s dumb enough to think that everything is perfectly fine when everyone just wants to wring his fat neck.”

I was just saying the last part as I stomped out of his office, freezing when I noticed David standing awkwardly at my desk with a stranger. David gave me a tight smile, but I barely saw it as I took in the other man.

Standing almost a foot above my own height, he was lean but I could see even through the tailored cut of his expensive suit that he was fit, and probably still packed with muscle. He had a confident and intense aura about him, and my mouth went dry at the look in his eyes as he perused my body from my heeled feet to the tie in my hair holding my ponytail.

His eyes were so dark they looked black, and he already had a five o'clock shadow covering his jaw and cheeks, the black stubble that matched his hair calling to me. My fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and feel the prickles against my skin.

“Y/N, I presume?”

Holy shit. A full body shiver went through me at that voice, deep and gruff with the hint of a British accent. I swallowed hard and nodded, taking a few more hesitant steps towards the mystery man.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Taron Egerton .”

A lightbulb went off in my head at David’s introduction of the stranger, and I stiffened. This was the head of the company for the presentation Chester had been in charge of, and if he was here at my desk, and only after half an hour, that meant the meeting hadn’t gone well. And since Chester had blamed the lack of visual aids on me, I assumed Mr. Egerton was here to berate me for it. I had no choice but to save my ass.

“Mr. Egerton ,” I started as I stepped toward him and held out my hand in greeting. “I would like to apologize for the Y/N in today’s presentation. I hope that my mistake didn’t deter you from working with us.”

He let me finish my apology before taking my hand, and when our palms touched sparks shot through me. I was grateful I hadn’t been speaking at the time, because the effect he had on me would’ve been obvious when I tripped over my words.“No apologies necessary, love”

My eyebrows shot up in confusion at his words, “My name is Y/N."“I know I don’t like it that much”

I felt my face flush, embarrassment and a little disappointment filling me at the blunt words. Turning to my desk and sitting, I replied, “Then feel free to leave.”

I shook my mouse to wake up my screens, focusing on them even though I could feel him staring at me. It was probably irrational of me to be sad he didn’t like my name, since I didn’t either, but I couldn’t help it.

“David, wait for me down the hall.” Mr. Egerton ’s voice brooked no argument, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as David immediately did as he was told. I snorted a tiny bit under my breath at his obedience; I wouldn’t be so easy to order around.

Mr. Egerton walked around to my side of the desk, spinning the chair so that I was facing him. He bent down to get closer, his words low but commanding.

“You’re going to have lunch with me. I can already tell you want to fight me, but I wouldn’t suggest it. I have no problem putting you over my shoulder and spanking that ass if you do."His words made me bristle and warm all at once, the mental image of his threat enticing me and pissing me off at once. I could feel the tip of my nose turning red like it did when I was holding back my anger.

Pushing against the floor, I rolled the chair back and out of his hands so I could stand, grabbing my purse angrily.

"I’m going to go with you so that you don’t cause a scene, but don’t think for one second that I want this,” I grit out so only he could hear. This office was open and full of gossips, although fairly harmless ones.

He let out a low laugh, and the hairs on my neck raised in appreciation of the sound. Traitor body, I thought to myself as I stormed past Mr. Egerton towards the elevator doors. I punched the button and waited, listening to him and David talk behind me.

“Although your charts were wrong, they were not incorrect David. You weren’t given the information you needed, so your data was off by no fault of your own. Give me your email address and I will send you the correct information. I expect to see the updated charts in two days.”

“Yes, sir.” David sounded a tad confused, reflecting my own thoughts. Why would the owner of a giant corporation want to deal with someone lower on the totem pole? Usually men of Mr. Egerton ’s status thought they were better than all that, preferring to deal with the higher ups.The elevator doors opened and he followed me in, leaving me trapped with him in a big metal box. His scent enveloped me, and I took a slow deep breath to really appreciate it. It was something smoky with a hint of freshly cut wood, and I only wanted to get closer, imprint it in my mind forever.

Shaking my head to get myself together, I turned to the man who’d somehow managed to discombobulate me without even trying. “What am I doing here, Mr. Egerton ?”

“Please, call me Taron .” I made a non-committal noise, and his mouth twitched, a ghost of a smile appearing for a moment. He moved closer to me, backing me into a corner and placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

My mid was telling me to push him away, but my body had different ideas. My pulse quickened, beating hard in my veins as his dark eyes captured my own light ones.

“I can see you want to fight me Y/N, and I like that. But I have an offer you can’t refuse."I paused for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You’re really going to use that on me right now?”

He chuckled and stepped away from me, breaking the tension. “I know, it’s cliché, but I couldn’t help myself.”

With that one sentence, I learned something about Taron . He was intense, but a bit of a goof underneath that. I wasn’t sure why that made me instantly more comfortable with him, but it did. I finally relaxed, but crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow at him, still expecting an answer to my previous question. His eyes flicked down to my cleavage, now more pronounced by my crossed arms. A sliver of satisfaction filled me at the heat that flared up in his eyes before he snuffed it out and got to business.

“I want you to come work for me.” His tone brooked no argument, but that wasn’t the kind of person I was. I didn’t follow commands like a dog, and I wasn’t going to start with him no matter how delicious he looked and smelled.“No.”

TARON :

I stared down at Y/N, hiding my shock at her answer. I was trying to avoid looking at her tits again, because I wanted her to know I was serious about this. I didn’t want her here with that shit head Chester. I wanted her in my space, around me. All the fucking time. It was a little disconcerting how suddenly this need for her had consumed me, but fuck if I was going to try to fight it.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“Oh really? You mean like Chester?” I knew it was a dick move, but I wanted to get my point across. “You would rather stay here and take the blame for all his mistakes? Let him walk all over you?”

“And what’s the alternative here? You want me to come work for you, where I’ll probably end up spread out on your desk or under it, sucking your cock while you try to have a conference call? I’m not an idiot, and I don’t want my life to end up like some trashy romance book!”

My dick throbbed painfully at the images she painted for me, and though I was guilty of wanting just that, I wasn’t the kind of man to expect that.I crowded her against the wall again, ignoring the ping of the elevator saying we’d reached our floor. I spoke in a low voice, so she was the only one that could hear me if other people were around.

“Although I’d love to have those pretty lips surrounding my cock, that’s not what I meant. I see your drive, your passion, and it would thrive in my office instead of being stifled here in this one.” I stepped back and turned to leave the elevator, ignoring the looks of the couple of people standing outside watching. “Let me know if you change your mind, Y/N.”

That woman was so goddamn stubborn. It’d been nearly a month since my visit to the office, and she had avoided speaking or seeing me at all costs. My takeover of the company was almost complete, although only two other people knew that it was happening. I hadn’t said anything to Y/N, but after I bought that company out I was going to promote her.

I didn’t want her to think I was doing it because I wanted her under me. And I didn’t want her to think I was using that to get her to like me. Not after all the gifts I’d tried sending her that she’d sent back in the same day. Every time I’d gotten the gift back, I’d grinned and chuckled, storing it away for later. She was going to accept the gifts someday, whether she knew it or not.

I had noticed though that in the last basket I’d sent, she’d taken out a caramel chocolate bar. I’d smirked, loving that she’d given a tiny piece of herself away even if she didn’t know it. I was desperate to know her, to get inside her head and figure out what made her tick.

Of course she was beautiful; that was obvious. But with every spurned gift I only yearned more to know her. And today, I was going to make sure I got exactly what I wanted.

Today was the meeting for all the staff, to tell them about the takeover and introduce to them their new owner and overall boss- me. I knew exactly what changes I was going to be making, and I knew some people weren’t going to be happy about it but I didn’t give a fuck.

“We’re here, Sir.” My driver’s words brought me out of my head, and I nodded crisply. I didn’t wait for him to open my door, reaching for the handle and letting myself out. I headed into the building, glancing at my watch to make sure I would walk in at the precise time. I got in the elevator, doing my best not to think about the fact that last time I was here I had Y/N in here with me.

I stepped off onto the 5th floor, making my way to the meeting room. I heard the voice of the previous owner of the company, Pete, just finishing letting them know he’d sold his company. Stepping through the door, I caught his eye and he motioned towards me.

“I’d like to introduce you to the new owner, Taron Egerton .” Polite clapping followed his words, but I barely heard it. I’d caught Y/N’s eye, and the heat in the air between us was high, her gaze shooting daggers at me. Something I would deal with later, especially seeing as how I was about to flip her world upside down.

“Thank you Pete. I hope your retirement is as enjoyable as you’ve been planning.” He chuckled at my words and shook my hand, waving to the people gathered in the office.

“Good luck with this one!” He chortled and waddled his 72-year old body out of the building. The room went quiet, and I stood looking at everyone until I heard the chime of the elevator in the distance signal his final departure.

“Okay everyone. As you’re aware, I just bought this company. I am a demanding boss, but I am fair. I may ask a lot, but nothing I’m not willing to give in return. If you’re a hardworking employee, then you have nothing to worry about.”

I saw a few surprised glances, and I let the ensuing whispers die down before I began to talk again. I caught Y/N’s eye while everyone was semi-distracted, giving her a small smile and a quick wink that only made her glare harder. I swallowed the chuckle with a cough, catching the room’s attention once again.

“Chester?” The heavyset man stood, a smug smile on his face that I was about to wipe off.“Yes, Taron ?”

I held back the snort at his presumption of using my first name. “You’re fired."Gasps rang out through the room, and Chester’s face went white. I glanced at the crowd, noticing a fair amount of them looked pleased with the new development, even though they tried to hide it. Chester began to splutter, and I cut him off.

"You don’t do any of your own work. You blame other people for your faults. You’ve been stealing from the office and those under you, and I don’t tolerate dishonesty or thieves. Get your shit and go.”

His face turned red, but he wisely held back whatever words he wanted to say. He turned and stomped out of the room, all of us watching as he went. He stepped out of the room, and I turned back to the others with a pleasant smile.“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s move on.”

Y/N:

Holy shit.

I wanted to clap, laugh, and cheer for this new development. My anger with Taron had temporarily abated, my happiness at his firing of Chester overshadowing everything else.“Y/N.” Taron ’s voice was sure, his gaze pinned on me as I froze in my seat. Oh shit, was I next?I stood on shaky feet, clasping my hands together to hide my nerves as I stared him down defiantly despite the pounding of my heart.

“You will be replacing Chester. If there’s anyone not on the team that you need or would like to move around, come to me and I will take care of it. I would also like to speak to you about your new responsibilities after this meeting is over.” He nodded, signalling that I could sit back down.I fell back into my chair, still processing what the hell had just happened. I tuned out the rest of the meeting while my brain tried to decide what Taron ’s motivation for this was. There were people here who had been there longer, in the actual field of work, that would have been better able to take over than a secretary.

Was this all his way of finally getting me to work for him? Anger rose anew at the thought, his manipulation and secrecy pissing me off. He couldn’t have bothered to tell me he was taking over? I ignored the voice in my head that said I’d been ignoring him so even if he had tried tot ell me I probably wouldn’t have listened.

I sat there fuming for the next 20 minutes, every possible reason for all of this getting worse and worse in my brain. Taron finally dismissed everyone and then motioned for me to follow him. I did so silently, waiting until we were alone to have the conversation that was bubbling inside. He didn’t initiate conversation, the ride in the elevator up to his office a couple floors above silent and vibrating with tension.

He let me in his office first, shutting the door behind me. As soon as I heard the click that signalled we were now private, I let loose.

“What’s the point of this? Are you doing all of this just to get back at me for ignoring you? Are you going to blackmail me with my new job, take it away if I don’t fuck you?”

His face had been impassive at first, but at my last words his eyes darkened and his expression turned thunderous. My words died at that look, my nipples perking against my will as he grabbed me and pressed me against the door, his face coming close to mine.

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely Y/N. I promoted you because I know you have the ability to get the job done, and fairly. I know it’s where you want to be. I know that everyone you talk to loves you, and that you will make a fuck of a lot better boss than Chester ever was."His words floored me. "How… how do you know that? About me, I mean?”

His eyes roamed over my face, the intensity bringing a blush to my cheeks. “David is a well of information once he gets started.”

I mentally cursed David, and then myself for giving him tidbits about me when I knew he was a worse gossip than old ladies in a small town.

“One last thing Y/N, and then we’ll get to business.” He leaned even closer, his face tilting so that he could talk directly into my ear. “When I fuck you, it will be because you’re begging for my cock in that tight, sweet little pussy of yours and not because of any goddamn job.”

He pushed away from me and turned, leaving me breathless and wet at his words, my ear still burning from the touch of his hot breath. I watched his saunter over to the chair of his new office before he sat, regarding me with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? Are you ready to get to work?”

I sprayed my new office with the can of air freshener I’d bought last night for the 50th time, trying to get rid of Chester’s scent that had seemed to permeate every corner. I finished the round of freshener, then fell into the brand new chair that had showed up this morning before I got in.

I hadn’t questioned it, only relieved that I wouldn’t have to sit in the same chair as Chester. The idea of that gave me the creeps. I was still getting used to the idea of being in charge of a whole team, but I couldn’t deny the excitement this new challenge brought me. It was where I’d wanted to be all along, and I was so incredibly grateful for all the support the people on my team were already showing me with this being my first official day on the job.

I’d stayed late to make sure that I had everything in order, and pretty much everyone else in the building had already left. I packed up my bag and headed out the door, taking the elevator down to the parking garage. I was mentally running through everything I had to finish tonight before delving even deeper tomorrow, which was probably why I didn’t hear the man shuffling up behind me while I tried to unlock my car door.

A hand grabbed my hair and slammed my forehead into the driver’s side window, pain blasting through my head and making me cry out. The hand tightened in my hair and I dropped everything in my hands to reach up and try to stop it from causing me more pain. I yelped loudly as tears gathered in my eyes while my head was yanked back, the rest of my body pressed against my car by the body of the man behind me,

“You little bitch. You fucked him so he would fire me, didn’t you? And then I bet you took his cock down your throat so you could have my job. Did you spill the beans about my skimming from the company too?”

The nasty voice took a minute to register through the pain, but when it did, I was even more horrified than before.

“Chester?”

His hand yanked on my hair again, and I couldn’t stop the tears from escaping my eyes at that point.

“Fucking whore. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything!”

“Shut up! You’ve ruined everything!” Chester’s voice was high and reedy, panic obvious. I had no idea what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into, but it sounded like he was scared shitless. It was hard to feel bad for him at the moment though. I just had to figure out how to get out of this situation.

“Chester, just tell me what you need, I can help.”

“I can help,” He sneered in my ear, his breath wafting over my face and making me gag. “How much do you think your boyfriend will pay to get his slut back?”

I was so confused. “What boyfriend?”

He jerked my head around to face him, and I was horrified to see his face covered in bruises, his left eye completely swollen shut and the right bloodshot and full of anger. I glanced down and saw that the hand that wasn’t tangled in my hair was covered in a makeshift splint, his fingers purple and twisted unnaturally.

“Taron Egerton , the man you fucked to get my job.”

“I haven’t fucked him!” It was true, but by the maniacal laugh he let out, he wasn’t going to believe it.

“Yeah right. I’ve always known you’d do whatever it took to get that job. And it looks like you succeeded.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he let go of my hair to slap me across the face before I could say anything more. I fell to the ground and curled up in a ball instantly to protect myself from what I was sure to be the beginning of a terrible beating.

I heard a loud thud and crunch and flinched before I realized the sound wasn’t coming from me. I heard some more grunts and odd sounds, and I lifted my head warily to see what was going on. My eyes widened in shock when I saw Chester on his back on the ground with a giant man towering over him, punching his face furiously. At this point, I couldn’t recognize Chester’s face through all the purple and red, blood flowing like crazy.

In the second after I took all that in, my saviour’s voice rang out through the empty parking garage.

“Don’t ever fucking touch her again!” With one more brutal punch, the man turned and faced me, chest heaving and fire in his eyes.

“Taron ,” I whispered out, stunned. He stared at me, his eyes raking over the wound on my forehead and cheek, my skin throbbing when his eyes landed on them. His jaw clenched and he took out his phone, pressing a button and putting it to his ear as he turned to kick Chester in the side a few times.

“E” He paused. “Yeah, the parking garage. Thanks.”

He hung up and turned back to me, holding out a hand.

I stared at it, taking in the blood and swollen knuckles before looking up to his face again. He looked at his own hand, realizing why I hesitated. He swore and then pulled out a cloth from his pants pocket, not even wincing as he cleaned off as much blood as possible. He shoved the cloth in his pocket and then held his hand out again.

“Come on Y/N, let me help you.”

His voice was soft, almost like he was asking me to trust him. And I did, despite the level of violence I’d just seen from him. It was highly possible that Chester was dead, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. If Taron hadn’t shown up, I could be the one laying there on the ground, covered in my own blood.I took his hand, careful of his wounds, and let him help me up. I bent down to grab my dropped purse and keys. I looked back up to Taron , a calm I wasn’t really feeling in my voice as I spoke.“Thank you. See you tomorrow then?” I turned back to my car, my hand shaking so violently I couldn’t get the key into the hole.

“Fuck Y/N,” he growled and swept me up in his arms. I started to protest, but he hushed me with one word. “Stop.”

I automatically settled in his arms, meeting his gaze with questions in my own.“I’m taking you home with me. I need to make sure you’re okay, and you’re in no condition to drive. Please, just let me do this for you. You can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

I shut my mouth, just nodding as I realized I really didn’t want to be alone. I found a weird comfort in his arms that I hadn’t felt in years, if ever. I let him put me in his car just a couple rows over that I hadn’t noticed before and buckle me in, wondering what was going to happen now.

TARON :

We drove in silence to my place, my anger still a burning hot thing inside me while she probably didn’t even realize she was shivering next to me. Thank fuck I’d worked late tonight and drove myself, or else who knows what would have happened to Y/N. The thought of that bastard Chester hurting her made me clench my hands on the wheel. the temptation to turn around and kill that fucker almost too much.

One look over at Y/N though, and I knew I was where I needed to be. I’d already called E, the mystery man on my staff who handled the ugly things like this, and Chester would be given to the very men who’d gotten to him before I did.

Yeah, I knew all about Chester’s gambling problem. He’d been stealing from the company for years to pay his debts, and he’d made a big bet the night before I’d fired him that he had no way to cover now. I would never have imagined that he’d take it out on Y/N though, or I would have made sure he never got near her.

I was feeling the guilt for not protecting her, but it was something I would have to deal with.I pulled into my driveway minutes later, punching in the code to my front gate before driving through and letting it shut behind me. I pulled up to the front door, knowing that someone would move my car where it needed to be eventually. I had Y/N to take care of right now, so the car could wait.

Going around to the passenger side door, I opened it and saw she hadn’t even unbuckled herself. I did it for her and pulled her into my arms again, loving how perfect it felt to have her there. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and snuggled into my chest, and I nearly stumbled at the warmth that shot through me.

I clutched her tighter to me and made it into my house and up the stairs to the master suite in record time. I walked straight into the bathroom and set her down on the toilet seat. I turned the shower on, testing the temperature before I pulled back.

“Y/N?” She didn’t move, still shivering. “Y/N, I need you to look at me.”

Her head slowly moved up, her eyes glassy but meeting mine.

“Hold it together for another few minutes so you can get warmed up. If I leave, will you be okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered and lowered her head again. I stared at her for a few seconds, warring with myself. I didn’t want to push her too hard, but I didn’t want her going into shock either.

“Alright. I’ll just be right outside the door so if you need me, just shout.”

“Okay.” Another small whisper, but she was responding.

I hesitated, but walked out the door and shut it softly behind me. I listened with my ear to the door, and I let out a sigh of relief when I heard movement and the sound of clothes hitting the tile. The sound of the water changed a minute later, and I knew she’d made it in.

I began to pace the carpet, fuming about the events of the night. My right hand throbbed with the memory of punching that asshole in the face, and I didn’t regret the bruises already forming.A sudden weird sound had me pausing, and I strained to listen. When I heard a second choked-back sob echo in the bathroom, I was opening the door and striding in there without even thinking about it. I pushed the shower door open and saw Y/N huddled up on the floor, arms around her knees as she sobbed as quietly as possible.

I knelt down, not caring about the water ruining my expensive suit, and took her in my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with her tears as she let it all out.

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe.” I repeated those words over and over, holding her tight to me and petting her hair. I was practically vibrating with the need to go and kill Chester, but knowing that Y/N needed me here more kept my ass plastered to the bottom of the tub.

The water had started to cool by the time Y/N lifted her head from my shoulder, her hazel eyes now a muddy colour but no less beautiful for the torment in them. She sniffled and reached up to rub her eyes, clearing them a bit as she finally focused on me. She looked down at herself and I saw a blush rise on her cheeks when she realized she was naked, in my arms, while I was fully dressed and now soaking wet.

Despite the unholy temptation to glance down and take in her body for myself, I kept my eyes focused on hers. I needed her to trust me right now more than I needed to see her bare skin, and I wanted her to know that.

“Come on Y/N, let’s get you out of her and into something warm.” I kept my voice soft and reassuring, and I waited for her nod of assent before clasping her against my chest as I stood.She let out an adorable little squeak when I lifted her, and automatically wrapped her legs and arms tight around me. I held back a groan at the feeling of having her pressing against me. I needed to focus on getting her what she needed, not what my body wanted. Desperately.

I leaned over to shut the water off and stepped out, not caring about the water dripping from us as I headed back into my room. I reached behind my door and pulled my robe off the hook, awkwardly placing it around Y/N’s shoulders while I held her.

“You’re going to have to let go of me,” I said in a gently teasing voice.

She hesitated, then loosened her grip on my body. She slid down, and I bit my tongue as she rubbed against my dick that was unmistakably hard. Just because I knew I wasn’t going to be doing anything with her tonight, it didn’t mean my dick knew that. We both ignored him however, and I wrapped her up in my robe while I pretended not to notice her body.I brought her over to a chair and had her sit down. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

I hurried into my closet and stripped off the ruined clothing, leaving it on the floor to deal with later. I quickly changed into some sweats and t-shirt and made my way back out to Y/N.

Stepping out of my closet, my eyes locked with Y/N’s in the mirror I’d sat her in front of. Her face was still slightly red from her crying, but her eyes seemed to hold more cognizance than before which I was immensely grateful for.

I held her gaze as I moved toward her, letting the silence between us hang there, the tension in the air there but set to the side. I stepped up behind her and lifted my hands, cautiously placing them on her shoulders. When she didn’t flinch or back away from me, I knew she was going to be okay.

“I want to take care of you tonight. Will you let me do that?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded haltingly.

“I want you to be sure. I swear I won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable, but I also want to make you feel good.”

A small, strangled sound escaped her and I suddenly realized how my words sounded. My cock jumped beneath my sweats, and I mentally berated it. I moved my hands from her shoulders to her neck, pausing when I felt her quick heartbeat. Pushing away the sudden desire to clasp a hand around her neck and make her tilt back for my kiss, I moved my hands higher into her hair, beginning to massage her scalp.

Her eyes closed and a blissful moan fell out from between her parted lips. I bit my tongue again, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time tonight. Ignoring the blood rushing from my brain, I continued to massage her head, waiting until she’d practically melted into the chair to take my hands away.

Her eyes popped open when my hands left her, and I smiled at her. “I’m going to get you something to sleep in.”

She nodded and settled back into the chair. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked back to my closet, finding a pair of shorts with a tie and one of my t-shirts for her. After handing them to her and telling her she could go change in the bathroom, I set about making sure that my bed had clean sheets for her. I was just placing the comforter on top when she came out of the bathroom, prompting me to look up at her.

My mouth went dry as I took in the sight of her wearing my old high school mascot shirt- and nothing else. She was holding the shorts in her hand, and gave me a little shrug.

“They weren’t really staying on.” She set them on a nearby chair, and then wrung her hands together as she waited for me to respond.

My dumb ass was still stuck on taking her in. Her long, strawberry hair spilling around her slim shoulders in waves. Her eyes large and cautious. Her braless tits peaking underneath the thin cotton, calling to me. She finally cleared her throat, and I stood up straight from the bed."Right. Uh, well, you can have the bed. I’m going to go out to the couch.”

I started hurrying out of the room, but her grasp on my arm halted me as I walked past her.“Please,” she said in a broken voice that had me turning to face her. “Don’t leave me alone."I shut my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "If that’s what you need, then-”

My words were halted by her hand tightening on my arm and pulling me towards the bed. I’ll take that as a yes.

She climbed into my bed like she’d done it a hundred times before and buried herself underneath the blankets. She looked so cosy, so content, that my heart beat hard in my chest imagining what it’d be like to have her in my bed past tonight. In my life.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I slid in next to her and kept as much distance between us as possible. Not because I didn’t want to curl up behind her and encase her in my arms, but because I knew she’d gone through something traumatic tonight and I wasn’t willing to make her feel like I was pressuring her into anything. even though she’d been the one to ask me to stay, it didn’t mean anything more than that she didn’t want to be alone.

I heard her shift in bed , and I could feel her staring at me. Risking a glance, I saw her on her side facing me, a soft look in her eyes.

“Thank you, T. For saving me tonight, and for everything after. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

I swallowed hard as red began to take over my vision. “I’m glad I was there too, Y/N. But no need to thank me.”

With that, I looked away from her, waiting until she turned onto her other side. I listened to her breathing, noticing when it deepened and slowed indicating she’d fallen asleep. Only then did I turn on my side to face her, studying the hidden lines of her body, the unique scent of her that enveloped me as I lay there, thanking whatever gods existed that I was there at the right time tonight. It was those prayers I fell asleep to hours later, my eyes never once leaving the woman in my bed.

Y/N:

I jerked awake, my heart pounding while I stared at the ceiling as the dregs of the dream I was having faded away in the early morning light coming through the window.Wait, that wasn’t right. I had blackout curtains, so what-

I whipped my head to the side as memories flooded my brain, and my heart softened and sped up all at once to see Taron sleeping next to me, noticing our legs tangled together and his hand laying on the bed between us, lightly gripping the ends of my hair.

The dream I’d been having came back to memory and I felt my cheeks heat up at the realization that I’d been having a sex dream about Taron . It was no wonder, when I’d been suffering for weeks to battle my desire for him, and then being surrounded by his scent and presence all night after he’d literally saved my life? Yeah, there was no fighting that now.

My clit pulsed when a vision of T slowly fucking into me from above while my legs were held up by his broad shoulders, and a light moan left me. I was wearing nothing but T’s shirt, and even that was tantalizing. My nipples had been hard since I woke up, and I could feel how wet my pussy was from the dream.

I shifted unconsciously, and I bit my lip as a wicked idea ran though my mind. He seemed to be sleeping deeply enough, maybe if I touched myself just a little to ease the ache, he wouldn’t know?

I kept my head turned towards him so I could watch for any signs he was waking up, and my right hand slid down beneath the blankets to touch my wet pussy. I couldn’t help the small gasp as my fingertips brushed my clit, sending lightning through me.

I paused, waiting for T to wake up, but he didn’t move a muscle. Happy to see that, I continued to slowly rub my clit with two fingers. I studied the lines of his face, the chiselled jaw of his that called for me to kiss it, to feel the stubble growing there rough against my soft lips. Just looking at him and remembering the way his hands had felt on me last night, massaging my head already had me dripping wet. I shuddered as my fingers began to speed up and my eyes closed in pleasure.

“Y/N,” I imagined him saying into my ear. My free hand moved under the shirt I was wearing, pushing it up my stomach so I could squeeze my breast like I imagined he would.I could practically hear him moan in my head, and my fingers moved faster on my clit as my hips lightly thrust into the air.

“Y/N,” Taron said again in my head. I shivered at the sound, how real it was. Something tugged my hair, and the sharp tingles it sent across my scalp hand me moaning. Man, if I’d known accidentally laying on my own hair would have that affect, I’d have tried that a lot sooner!“Y/N, stop.”

My eyes popped open and I froze, little pieces putting themselves together. Exactly how real his voice had sounded. The pulling on my hair. It had actually been him the whole time, awake.I stared up at the ceiling, to embarrassed to look over at him. Fuck, could this get any worse? I still had one hand buried in my pussy and the other gripping my tit, but I couldn’t seem to move.“Look at me Y/N.” He waited patiently for me to gather up the courage. When I did, it was to see him with eyes dilated and full of desire. His body was tight with tension, and one quick glance down had me noticing the giant tent in his sweats.

“I… I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.” The words fell from me, breaths shaky and stuttered.

“I don’t really think you are. I think you’re sorry I caught you rubbing your pussy in my bed, but I doubt you’re sorry you did it. Are you?”

His eyes blazed at me with need and a challenge. Would I pretend like I didn’t know what he meant, and let this be the end of it? Or…

“No. I’m not sorry.” My heart sped up even more, and I knew he could see the pulse beating in my neck. “I’m only sorry I’m the one doing it, and not you.”

It took a split second for my words to register, but when they did, his reaction was more than I could have hoped for.

A low growl reverberated in the air around me, and in just a couple seconds he was kneeling between my spread legs, everything bared to his sight as he pushed my arms above my head and into the soft bed.

“It’s been fucking torture,” he groaned while he leaned down and nibbled on my neck. “To see you walking around in those fucking pencils skirts and those damn high heels. To need and want you so badly, and not being able to touch you. But now that you’re in my bed willingly, offering up this pretty as fuck pussy to me? Now, I’m going to get my fill.”

He paused to pull back and study my face, looking for any sign I wasn’t on board.“I need you,” I whispered. It was all he needed to hear. Dropping his forehead onto mine, he stayed there for a second, giving me one last chance to back away. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled my body up to meet his, rubbing myself against him through his pants.That seemed to be the last straw. His mouth was on mine before I could take another breath, and I moaned loudly when his tongue came out to tangle with mine. He groaned in response, and sooner than I would have wanted he pulled away.

“Now tell me my sweet little Y/N,” he murmured as he sat back on his heels, inspecting me. “What was it that had you stroking that pussy this morning?”

I bit my lip, embarrassment flooding me again. I really didn’t want to tell him I’d dreamt about him, but I wasn’t sure he would believe a lie if I tried to tell one. His hands moved to grip my thighs, squeezing them before bringing his hands closer together, his thumbs stopping when they met the crease between my leg and pussy lips. He stroked the sensitive skin there, telling me wordlessly that he would continue if I answered him.

I swallowed. “I was dreaming about you, and, ohh…” I broke off when his fingers moved closer, stroking my wet lips. Such a light touch, and so powerful.

“Don’t stop baby, tell me about the dream.”

I fisted the sheets next to my hips and pressed up towards him as I continued in a strained and panting voice. “I dreamed that after you climbed into bed with me last night you didn’t stop yourself from pulling me closer. That you, um, rubbed your cock on my ass while you played with me.”

“Mmm, sounds like a good dream,” he said in raspy tones.

“Yeah… this is better.”

“I haven’t even really touched your pussy yet,” he teased.“Please,” I begged, looking down my body at him. “Please touch my pussy.”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

I watched hungrily, heart beating wildly in my chest, as he leaned forward and took one long lick through my folds. I moaned, my head falling back onto the pillow while I trembled beneath his hands and tongue.

I was no inexperienced woman, but I had never felt anything like this. I had never been so close to coming from just a few swipes of a man’s tongue. His tongue rasped through my folds over and over, dragging me closer and closer to orgasm until my hands were buried in his hair and my hips were grinding up into his face.

“Please, oh please please let me come.” Words fell out of my mouth and echoed around us in his room. His hands grasped my thighs tightly a second before he took my throbbing clit in his mouth and sucked, flicking his tongue across the surface and making me burst into a million pieces.

“Taron! Fuck!” My whole body was shaking, jerking under him as he held me down, humming against me in obvious pleasure at my reaction.

I was just barely starting to come down when T pushed himself up and over me, his eyes fully dilated and my juices still glistening on his face.

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that. And Y/N, it was even better than I dreamed.”

I flushed under his praise, a shy smile tilting my lips up. “I think I know what you mean.”

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me, kissing him and tasting myself on his lips. He groaned into my mouth, tilting our heads so that he could kiss me deeper, harder, ratcheting my desire for him right back up.

I pulled away first to look at him. Even though he’d gone down on me and kissed me like he was just seconds away from fucking me within an inch of my life, he still held his hips away from mine. Hell, he was still wearing clothes! The orgasm he’d given me with my mouth had only temporarily satisfied me; I wanted to feel him pumping in and out of me, our skin slick with perspiration as we barrelled towards the edge together.

I moved my hands down his body and grabbed his firm ass, pulling him down tight against me so I could rub against him. The moment our hips met and I shifted underneath him, and strangled sound wrestled itself from T’s throat and his hips thrust hard into mine. A loud cry left me, part surprise and part pleasure at the absolute wildness of the movement.

“Wait, Y/N, I can’t.” He started to pull away, and I wrapped myself like a koala to stop him. I waited until he opened his eyes and looked at me before speaking.“Why not?”

TARON:

Goddammit. Every second she spent wrapped around me was weakening my resolve. She stared up at me with her molten eyes, pleading for me not to go.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. After last night…” I trailed off, the familiar anger with Chester burning in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing through my nose to calm down.A soft hand pressed against my cheek, and the calm I’d been looking for settled over me like a blanket. I opened my eyes to look at Y/N, and saw her eyes full of some emotion I was afraid to name.

“While I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she began, “I’m not looking for you to be gentle right now. I’m not going to break. Nothing happened to me; you were there to save me. And I need you, T. Remind me what it feels like to be alive.”

I hesitated for just a second, and she saw that. A wicked gleam replaced the soft emotions that were there before, and when she spoke again her words came out on a throaty purr that was impossible for me to resist.

“Come on Taron. Don’t you want to know what it feels like inside my tight, wet pussy? I bet you can slide in all the way on your first try, even though you’re so fucking big.” She moved one hand down and slipped underneath my pyjama pants, finding me bare and hard, throbbing and leaking with need for her.

I couldn’t help the thrust my hips gave into her soft hand, her grip just the right strength to have me leaking more precum than before.

She purred, and continued to talk while she used her heels to push my pants down, baring my cock in her hand to the both of us. The sight was so fucking erotic that I nearly lost it, but it was her next words that made me snap.

“Mmm, imagine all this cum leaking from my pussy baby. Don’t you want to see that? I’m on birth control, so you can come in me if you want.”

“Jesus Christ,” I grit out as she rubbed her thumb across the head of my cock and gathered my cum to taste it. My mind blanked, only one thought going through my mind. “You want me to fuck you Y/N? Fine.”

I yanked her shirt the rest of the way off and flipped her over onto her stomach, tying her arms behind her back before she could say a word of protest. I ran my fingers down from her shoulders the fabric of the shirt, then over the skin of her ass to her thighs, taking the touch away from her right before I smacked the right side of her ass. She let out a yelp and jumped a little, but calmed when I rubbed my hand over the pink mark.

“That’s what you get for pushing me, you naughty girl. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, and now you’re about to get more than what you bargained for.”

I paused for a second, then leaned down and murmured carefully in her ear, “If this isn’t okay, just let me know.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Please, don’t stop. I love it.”

I grinned and sat back up. I spanked her other cheek a little harder than the first time, and the sound she let out had my cum leaking onto her skin where I straddled her thighs. I leaned back just a little and used my hands to spread her lips apart as much as I could with my legs keeping her tight together, and my mouth watered at the sight of how wet she was, the insides of her thighs shimmering with her arousal. I slid a finger down and ran it across her, then pressed forward into her tight hole just enough to tease her.

“You weren’t kidding, you’re fucking soaked baby. This cunt is going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

“Please!” She wriggled under my hands, trying to entice me to push more than just a finger inside her.

“All in good time, Y/N. Let me play a little with this naughty pussy of yours first.”

A whimper left her and her hands clenched in restraint. God, just seeing her back tense and her skin ripple with goose bumps as I lightly thrust my one finger in and out of her had me growling. I was going to tease her a little longer, but I had overestimated my self restraint.

I wrapped one hand around her bound forearms and pressed down, telling her silently to be still. Slipping my now soaked finger from her pussy, I brought it up through the crease of her ass, swirling the tip across her puckered asshole. My eyes widened when all she did was melt under me, a loud moan filling the moment of quiet. My finger paused there, pressing just a tiny bit as I tested her reaction.

“Um, oh my god, just… shit.” Y/N’s words were jumbled, and if her brain was as scrambled as mine was at this little revelation then I could understand.

“Y/N… do you like having your asshole played with? And don’t lie to me,” I said in a mocking voice as I pressed my finger against her again and relished the way her hips automatically pressed back towards me.

“Yes,” she mumbled into the blankets. I could barely understand her, but since I already knew what the answer was, it wasn’t difficult to decipher.

A low, excited laugh left me. “Oh baby, we’re going to have so much fun together.” I pulled my finger away and loved the way she let out a disappointed sound. Pressing slightly harder against he back, I cam up to my knees and took my cock in hand, pressing the already wet and dripping tip against the spot my finger had just left.

She jerked against me in surprise, and I let another laugh escape me as I pulled away.“Don’t worry, I’m not going there yet. Although I have to say, the way you pressed back against me like you wanted my cock in your ass first, is very tempting.” I moved my tip down to her cunt and notched it against her, pausing for a second while I steadied myself.

“Taron, stop teasing me and just fuck me please!”

How could I deny her when she begged so pretty? With one thrust, I went balls deep just like she’d mention earlier, her pussy immediately pulsing around me as she screamed my name out. It took everything I had in me not to come with her, the fact that with just one thrust of my cock in her had her breaking apart nearly too fucking good to resist going with her.

I managed though, and after a few deep breaths I had enough control to start pulling out of her. Little moaned and whimpers left her as my cock rubbed against her sensitive walls, her body still shaking from the orgasm she was having.

“Shit Y/N, I don’t know how long I’m going to last.”

“Doesn’t matter. S-s-sooo good,” she moaned out as I started to really fuck her, her ass bouncing into my hips and adding one more layer to the moment.

I was panting, my skin burning hot as a film of sweat gathered on my skin, sheer willpower and need for her to come again before I did driving my hips hard and fast against her.

I used my free hand to spank her ass rapid-fire, feeling how she clenched tighter around me with every smack. I continued to fuck her as I took my thumb and ran it back and forth across where we were joined, making both of us moan. Once my thumb was completely coated in both our juices, I brought it back up to her ass and played with her forbidden spot.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” she gasped loudly and threw her head back, her spine arching in pure pleasure as I pressed my thumb inside her. I felt her begin to ripple around my cock again, and my eyes widened while I slammed my hips harder into her, going so fucking deep I swear my cock touched her cervix.

“Shit, are you going to come again from my thumb in your ass?”

“Yes,” she cried out. “Fuck me so deep with your cock in my pussy and your thumb in my ass. I’m gonna come!”

I pulled up on her bound arms so her chest was lifted off the bed as I drove my thumb all the way in, my cock pistoning in and out of her gushing cunt.

Less than a second later, she was coming all over me, and I couldn’t resist the call that time. I yelled out along with her, coming so hard inside her that I couldn’t even breathe. My cum glazed her walls and spilled out around us as I continued to thrust in and out of her, dragging our orgasms out as much as possible.

I wanted the feeling to go on forever, but eventually we started to come down. We both collapsed onto the bed, and I began to untie her arms, rubbing them to make sure the circulation was going through and she wasn’t injured in any way.

Once I determined she was good, I turned her over and cuddled her into my side. She happily curled into me, humming with happiness with a big smile and eyes closed. We were still panting from exertion, but I’d never felt so replete and satisfied. I hadn’t expected Y/N, but I was sure as hell glad for her.

I knew I was going to keep her around; it was just a matter of convincing her to stick with me. Looking down at Y/N in the soft sunlight of the early morning, watching her as she began to fall asleep in my arms, I knew this was only the beginning for us.

@primaba11erina​

[split-n-splice]

This arc is for introducing some faces around them. Everyone's got their problems to contend with~

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

28. Aura of Others – 2

She knew the morning was off to a good start when a scream followed the frantic beeping of an unfamiliar alarm clock, and she cracked her eyes open in time to see a familiar blue someone flail and tumble out of bed. She was glad the lamp was on so she could catch the spectacular fall from grace.

She barely kept the laugh to herself as the startled man picked himself up, staring at her wide-eyed over the edge of the bed. Panic-stricken and stammering, he welcomed her to sleep in for another half hour, or an hour, or all day if she pleased, but she had to decline no matter how tempting. She had places to be, unfortunately.

The second Drakken excused himself hastily to his own private bathroom, she threw back the sheets to check for any sign of burnt fiber. She was pleasantly surprised and gave herself a pat on the back for making it through the night without incident, even as her face burned as she quickly dressed. She hoped the gambler wouldn’t push his luck next time either – and then banished the thought from her mind. There wouldn’t be a next time. This was a one-time occurrence. A simple test of will.

She had the feeling she was lying to herself as she wore another of Drakken’s sweaters to Buckley’s to hide the fact she hadn’t exactly changed out of yesterday’s outfit. And she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone else either when he was the first customer of the day, smiling pleasantly as she served him joe to go. When he turned to leave, Shilo had to tear her stare away from the green elastic band holding the ponytail he’d taken the time to neatly put up himself.

Eyes of future-henchgirls drove daggers into her back. She heard the low voice of Buckley in the kitchen muttering to Chester, but couldn’t make out what she rumbled. No doubt something displeased, and Shilo was sure it was about her. If it weren’t for the generous tip Drakken slipped into the jar, the baker might have said – or done – something to him to chase him off.

As it were, Drakken was in no hurry to leave, courteously holding a door open for a blithe young man with a pep in his step that made Shilo’s blood run cold before inciting the dreaded fire once again.

She felt suddenly far too small for the sweater hung around her. If only she could disappear into it. If only it wouldn’t be so childish to duck behind the counter to make Gail take the order. It was too late for hiding now anyway.

Ignoring Drakken lingering at the open door was just as hard as looking up at the next customer. She forced a smile for the increasingly familiar boy beaming back at her, and she warmed over as if standing in a sunray from heaven. She couldn’t say she liked it, but she couldn’t say she didn’t either.

“I, um. H-hey—,” she clamped her mouth shut and gave a small cough to clear her throat. She tried again before Abigail could shove her aside to take over, and managed to utter a coherent greeting the second time. “What can I get you, angel boy?”

Angel boy smothered his grin and glanced to the case. “Caramel latte and a cinnamon roll to go today, please,” he answered promptly as if he’d rehearsed it. If he was uneasy, he disguised it well.

It would have been an easy enough task if she weren’t aware of Drakken still standing in the doorway, watching with unnerving interest. She almost spilled the latte when she handed it over. As she fumbled with the register, she caught a glimpse of the felon pointing at the angel boy, almost as if aiming a finger-gun at his back.

Drakken’s raised brow and inquiring gesture didn’t help the heat spreading across her face or building in her chest. She was eager to get them both out of the shop. She even considered calling for Buckley to scare the rogue doctor away, at the very least.

For as much as he stared and beamed at her, angel boy didn’t seem to notice the peeks she shot past him, or the dismissive flick of her wrist in a vain attempt to shoo Drakken off. She didn’t need to squirm under the analytical stare of a rogue scientist when she was already caught in the radiance of an angel boy, and she was all the more convinced she needed to get a grip on herself and Lady Fate’s gift.

“Hope to see you soon,” said angel boy warmly as he left, but Shilo could only spare the tiniest wave in goodbye before hiding her hands behind the counter once more.

Dr. Drakken was still rooted in place, continuing to hold the door open and let the heat out. The young man cast a perturbed glance up at him and another glance over his shoulder to Shilo before going on his merry way. It took Drakken another moment of standing there, watching the blond depart, before he turned his eyes back to Shilo. She tried to ignore the arch of his brow or the smile that split across his face.

“Interesting,” he piped, grinning smugly her way. Her face burned and she had to wring her hands under the counter to snuff out the heat in her palms. “I didn’t take you for a nervous Nellie.”

A small hand curled around Shilo’s shoulder. Abigail was a fraction of Buckley’s size, but with a little genetic manipulation and training, she could one day compare to the role model. She’d taken lessons from her, and must have been able to replicate the baker’s sneer perfectly because Drakken took a step back out the door when Gail curtly snapped at him, “There something wrong with your order, sir? No? Then get outta here. No loitering.”

Effectively told off, Drakken left with haste.

Later that day, when Shilo was at last relieved of duty for the afternoon, she almost made a beeline for the lair, compelled to chew out the man for stirring trouble with her at Buckley’s Brew, which had lived up more to its unscrupulous underground name of Jackass Joe’s on this fine day. Between customers, she’d suffered critical glares, poking, prodding, elbowing, and snide comments like two-timer and skank. On an average day, she could take every name in the book in stride, but it hadn’t made getting through this day easier when she was already fighting to put out the hellfire stoked by an angel.

She hadn’t made it far before the chill in the air wicked away the heat, and she breathed easier than she had all day. A misty drizzle fell, and she was convinced to go home instead when she missed the bus. She had better things to do than get herself worked up over a smug man who found her plight interesting.

Better things, such as going home and sweeping up the glass she’d left scattered across her bathroom floor.

When Shilo entered her dingy apartment, she jumped, spying a large rat dart behind the fridge. Swearing aloud, she raised a hand, drawing up energy into her palm, and readied a blast fit for a rodent as she shoved the fridge back. The vermin disappeared through a hole chewed in the drywall before she could take the shot.

The ball of plasma still crackled in her palm, bubbling and dripping, and Shilo found herself unable to recall the glow still desperate for an exit. It was abnormal, but not the first time she’d been faced with the predicament, and it was an unwelcome reminder she didn’t have as much control of it as she wished she did.

She realized as she washed the sizzling alien fire down the sink that she hadn’t done much to relieve herself of the bottled energy lately. She stared into the sink, hoping that washing plasma down it wouldn’t make the pipes any leakier, and optimistically added to herself that maybe it would unclog the drain.

She mulled it over while cleaning the neglected bathroom. With no glass door to hide behind anymore, the special prescription stared her down from its perch on the shelf in the medicine cabinet. She considered, between the lack of suppressant and lack of an outlet, maybe she was spilling over. Could she overflow? She knew she could get riled up and overcharge – there was even emergency protocol for that – but she couldn’t recall a time she’d ever gone more than a week without throwing a few plasma balls for target practice at the very least.

Rubbing her throbbing head, she tried to recall the last time she’d let loose at all. She’d used her glow as a light source a few nights ago on the way home from Vegas, but that was a low-level energy release with hardly any power behind it and no heat to the flame. She’d worked on hand-to-hand combat with the henchmen, but she’d played fair. The last time she could remember really giving her glow the slightest workout was the day Drakken gave her the new gloves. That had been weeks ago.

Bathroom clean enough to stand barefoot in again, she was dressing down to settle in for the evening when she emptied the pockets of her jeans out of habit. The bracelet and note she pulled out nearly caught fire – and she once again found herself unable to extinguish it without a little help.

This time she was rinsing the plasma down the bathroom sink though, and this time the suppressant was staring her in the face. She’d circumvent it if she could. And she would. She had to – because relying on the medication would only hamper her, and that just wasn’t happening anymore. It would only put her under GJ’s thumb and at their mercy.

Shilo forgot about her PJ’s waiting for her on the bathroom counter and dressed into a new pair of jeans, one of her own sweaters, and the slicker jacket, and headed out the door into the rainy evening.

She had energy to burn off.

It was only a hunch, but it was worth a shot. Besides, she had to try, or she might never make it through a date with an angel boy capable of thwarting her self-control and setting her on fire with a single look.

So she skulked through the rain as the twilight fell, her feet carrying her to a bridge over the river that ebbed and flowed like the tide. She cast a look around before stepping over the guardrail into a prohibited area of the canal, pushing her way through branches and bushes on her descent down the muddy slope to find flat ground beneath the bridge.

The river was a safe enough target. It swallowed each blast, the green blobs of molten plasma gulped up by the muddy water. Steam rose, and not just from the water, but from herself as well. She soon shed her slicker and her sweater, and she briefly considered that she might have been better off wearing her gear out here, but it was a little late in the evening to go back for it now.

She only stopped when she heard a vehicle stop on the bridge above. She realized, with a sudden frigid wave of dread, that a fogbank was flowing out from the downstream end of the bridge. It was sure to have caught some eyes.

Heaving for breath, she held her fire – and was glad she could finally recall it – as she pressed to the wall and waited for the curious witness to leave. When they didn’t move along, she held her breath and listened for a car door. Something. Anything.

The warmth burned down her arms again, and she was second-guessing if she really had her alien fire back under control after all – when finally she heard wet tires rolling. But the vehicle didn’t go far. She heard the engine cut, a door, and soon heard the squelching of footsteps coming down the muddy bank.

If it was an officer coming to investigate, her things were simply too far away to risk diving forward and grabbing. She’d be seen for sure. So she bolted the other direction, hooking around the wall and glancing back under the bridge before staring miserably up the embankment thick with vegetation above her.

Passing through it silently was hopeless, but she did her best, glad the recent rains had at least saturated the sticks and leaves enough to soften the sound of her slippery passage.

She ducked as she reached the top, fully expecting an officer or two, or at least a police cruiser – and felt her face heat when she saw the furthest thing from it.

An old brown station wagon with a taped-up back window was parked on the side of the road.

And behind her down the hill, someone was clearing his throat.

“You know there’s a flash flood advisory, don’t you?” Dr. Drakken called up at her, although he was the one presently standing in the danger zone by the water’s edge. He held her abandoned sweater and slicker draped over an arm. He nodded to the fogbank rolling slowly downriver and added, “Lovely work, by the way.”

“What are you doing here?” she snipped down at him as he began the awkward climb up the overgrown slope after her.

“Errands,” he answered curtly. That was hard to believe when he had henchmen to run errands for him.

“What kind of errands?”

Drakken shook his head in exasperation and snorted. “Must I tell you everything?”

“Yes.”

Halfway up the slope, he paused and looked up from watching his footing. Shilo didn’t like his silence, and she had the feeling the awkward reply, “Post office,” was little more than a bluff if not a total lie.

“Have you been spying on me again?” she pressed when he reached her at the top.

“Wh—nngg! No!” he sputtered, his face turning a funny shade she knew wasn’t from the nippy weather. She might have liked to see him flustered and choking on words if she weren’t still skeptical he wasn’t lying to her face. He shoved her things at her to free his hands for flailing. “I was just – I was – I heard it was supposed to rain. I was going to give you a ride from Buckley’s, but then I got distracted and ran a little late and—”

“Try four hours late,” Shilo snorted.

His lips pressed into a flat line and he grunted and glared away toward the car. “Better late than never though, right?” He skulked off for the vehicle.

Shilo was hesitant to follow, but the rain was coming down heavier by the moment. “I’ll forgive you for being creepy and stalking me – on one condition,” she haggled.

“Which is…?” he wearily prompted with a roll of his wrist.

“Cow-n-Chow drive-thru and swing by the movie shack,” she said as she came around to the passenger side. “Those are my demands.” She should have asked for a target range, but she didn’t consider it in time. At least she was good and cool now. Burning off some energy might have done her a fair bit of good after all.

“A small price to pay,” sighed Drakken. Meeting her inside the car, he added, “And I wasn’t stalking you. I was on my way to knock on your door like any respectable – uhm – to ask you—nngh!” He curled his lip and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“Any respectable what to ask me what?”

“Nothing.”

A few minutes later, the cross man was eating fries from a bag between his knees, and the sloshing windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour. They hadn’t spoken outside of placing an order at the window and were now cutting through town to find the rental shack before closing. She hadn’t expected Drakken to strike up conversation – or if she had, she’d expected some jeering about angel boy – but instead, he gave a morose hum and looked over at her.

“What was that about anyway? Under the bridge?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. You want me to be honest with you. And I told you, so it’s your turn.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t give me a full answer,” Shilo retorted, hopeful to divert the subject away from poorly-managed alien fire she couldn’t keep contained.

“I was coming to see you,” Drakken shot back at her. “I thought – geez, Shego! I thought that was clear already.”

“Why?” Better yet, why was she raising her voice?

“Because I – I don’t know. Hoping I can change your mind about – what was it you called him? Angel boy?”

Shilo pressed against the door. “What?”

“I was just hopeful we’d get out Friday, alright?” Drakken grouched. “Just us. Maybe a henchman. Or not. I thought we’d go do something thrilling and dangerous, like crossing state lines in this piece of crap. Because you’re right! You’re absolutely right. I need to get out sometimes. And it turns out, I do enjoy getting out with you.”

She watched him swallow and his brow knit into deep creases. And she gave a frustrated sigh, deciding not to fault him. At least he was being honest. Or at least she had to trust he was. She hugged herself. “Next Friday night. I promise,” she said. “But you’re gonna let me do this with – with what’s his face, and you’re not gonna stop me. You got that?”

Drakken was quiet. She didn’t miss his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. “Loud and clear,” he grunted.

“Don’t be such a sore loser, Doc,” she grumbled, reaching into her own bag to pull out a pinch of overly-salted fries. “It’s not what you think.”

He scoffed. “Then what is it?”

She slumped back and kicked her muddy heels up on the dash. “I have a score to settle.” She couldn’t give him any more detail than that. She’d figure it out when she crossed that bridge. She knew only one thing – she’d make angel boy pay retribution, one way or another.

Drakken was quiet for a moment before he grumbled, “I am not a sore loser. I didn’t lose anything.” Shilo couldn’t help laughing a little at his frown. “I’m just – it’s nothing crucial – I’m just a little pissed off to have Friday plans pushed off the table, that’s all.”

“Live and learn,” she said around a mouthful, and shrugged. “Don’t set your heart on anything involving an us without consulting me first. ‘Kay?”

She had to take his harumph as a grunt of agreement.

There was no reason to nod up to her darkened apartment and suggest he come upstairs. It wasn’t a feeble attempt to butter him up – because there was no reason to be apologetic for the clash of plans, much less apologetic for the existence of a boy who could stir something wretched in her. She had a movie, and movies were better with company. That was why Drakken followed her up the stairs.

The heater was kicked into operation and shoes were kicked off. Drakken’s jacket hung next to her slicker on the rack. He grudgingly agreed to the chore of popping the tape in while Shilo made the popcorn as the previews played.

She couldn’t help stealing a peek over her shoulder at the man kneeling before her television balanced on a small shelf. He was a decidedly better sight on her shaggy rug than the hoodlum with the mutt. And unlike the hoodlum, she might have been at least a little compelled to be a good host to the rogue doctor presently threatening to disassemble her malfunctioning remote from his spot on the floor.

No sooner had the stray thought of inviting the man onto her bed – to make up for lack of a couch – crossed her mind did she come to the jarring realization that she had in fact not burned herself out. A soft popping sound wasn’t coming from the microwave – but rather the bubble and ooze of her glow escaping her palms.

A small gasp slipped out, and Drakken’s tired stare turning back at her didn’t ease the flush of heat. She hid her hands behind her back and slunk off to the bathroom.

There, she locked the door and wrung her hands.

She still felt watched, but she knew it was only her imagination. She found herself facing the sink. She squeezed her eyes shut and doused the licks of plasmic flame crawling over her hands and up her wrists under a stream of icy water, and all the while the orange bottle stared down at her.

There was no reason for her nerves to spike now. She wanted to blame it on the medication’s side-effects, or withdrawals, or something. Because it couldn’t be Drakken sitting in the other room, ready to watch a movie with her. That would complicate things.

Fire barely subdued for the moment, Shilo gripped the edge of the counter, telling herself she wouldn’t – yet one hand pried away, and the other had a pill in the palm a moment later. She drew a shaky breath, broke it in half, and nipped a piece off that, just like she used to on the average rough day in between classes. It was only a fraction of a dose. Unless big brother had upped the potency, it should be just enough to take the edge off without the risk of knocking her out cold. She’d get a little drowsy at the very most, she assured herself.

Just as bitter as she remembered, the crumb dissolved on her tongue before she could swallow. She resisted the urge to retch.

The smell of burnt popcorn all but yanked her from the bathroom then. She swore as she burst out the door, and startled to find Drakken dumping the remainder of blackened kernels into the trash. Her face heated, but no more than it should have.

“Most of it survived,” Drakken informed with a nod back to a bowl on the counter.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and ducked back into the bathroom for another moment to change. She returned once and for all a minute later, dressed in full cotton PJs of a dingy shade of green, feeling just a little overdressed after last night and twice as flustered to consider it now. She almost wished she’d been under the influence, just for something to blame the rash decision on.

She tugged at the hems of her sleeves as she passed the man sitting on her floor again, and took up a spot at the head of her bed. He made no comment on her jammies. Good. She’d thwack him if he did.

As the movie opened up to the sound of sirens, Shilo shifted in place where she sat on the edge of the mattress, just close enough for her company to hand the bowl of popcorn up to her. She nibbled for a few minutes before shifting slightly again and stopping herself from patting the spot next to her. “Why don’t you sit up here?” she blurted anyway.

Drakken slouched, his legs kicked out and crossed at the ankle, arms folded over his chest. “Thank you, no,” he said stubbornly. “I’m good.”

Her eyebrows knit together at the blatant rebuff. Without pausing to think, she reached down to grab him by the hair at the top of his head, giving it a small tug as she crossly ordered, “Get your stupid ass off the floor.” At the first tingle, she snapped her hand away in time for sparks to glint at her fingertips. She wiped her hand on her shirt as if to erase the sensation.

Grunting, Drakken hefted himself up to slouch on the edge next to her, and he only sat straighter to accommodate the bowl relocated to his lap. Shilo migrated away to the corner, a pillow behind her and another to hug. As the new release rolled on, the unhappy blue man relaxed, inching backward until his feet were off the floor and his back was against the wall. He made headway on the popcorn, but she didn’t complain. She didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment anyway with arcs of blood spraying onscreen. Not that she could trust herself to reach for any popcorn with her hands still threatening to bloom with green embers.

In vain hope of resisting the siren call of the suppressant, she worked up the nerve to lean over and reach under her bed, fishing out the stylized glass water pipe. She cleared her throat, and just barely saw dark eyes flick her way past the massacre reflecting off his lenses. “You wanna break this in with me?” she quipped as nonchalantly as she could.

Drakken didn’t seem particularly alarmed or impressed by the paraphernalia she presented, but he’d seen it before. His only reply was a withering look.

Indulging anyway with or without him crossed her mind, but Shilo sheepishly tucked it back beneath the bed instead. “I’ll take that as a no,” she mumbled, and scoffed. “Pssh. You’re no fun.”

Drakken opened his mouth to argue, but a scream from the television cut him off. He didn’t look like he was enjoying the movie, but he’d yet to leave or suggest any other tape in her meager collection.

Sighing, Shilo relaxed into her bed and wriggled a bit to get comfortable, trying and failing to make the best of her limited space with her guest in the way. Uncomfortable or not, the weight of the day settled over her, weighing her eyelids down soon enough. Or maybe it was the fraction of a pill doing her in. She wondered if the supposed villain would be courteous enough turn off the TV and lock the door on his way out when the movie was over, but she didn’t let herself count on it.

After a while of watching the blurry shapes through her lashes, movement in the dark from the corner of her eye drew her sluggish attention.

She almost lifted her head to ask if he was leaving, but kept her silence as she watched him pull a square of paper from a back pocket. Her drowsiness slowly lifted as he unfolded the slip and frowned miserably. He chewed his lip and cast a fleeting glance her way, only to jump when she croaked, “What?”

He blinked back to the television, paper crumpled and hidden between his knees. “It’s nothing – ow!” he yelped when she drove her heel hard into his hip. “For fuck’s sake, Shego. It’s personal.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled, relaxing back into the pillow she hugged beneath her. Feigning acceptance or disinterest didn’t last long. Soon she was sitting up again, making a snappy grab for the wadded note he couldn’t hold out of reach in time.

He barked her alias again in annoyance as she scooted back to her corner to unfold the slip. She stuck a heel out again to keep him at a distance. “That is none of your business!” he spat at her.

“RSVP! You’re invited,” she began aloud with flair, and settled to mumbling along, one hand precariously lit to read the hand-written invitation on floral-print notepaper smelling of powder and flowers of a variety she couldn’t place. A polite invitation to thanksgiving dinner at Mrs. Lipsky’s home in Middleton, California, finished with a guilt-tripping dig, P.S. We miss you.

Her eyes glanced over the plus-one invitation once more before she arched an eyebrow at the purple-faced man resigned to sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping his head.

“Mrs. Lipsky? I didn’t know you were married—”

“That’s my mother,” he spat venomously.

Shilo almost winced, but instead she nodded. “Ah. That makes more sense, I guess. Um. Here.” She passed the invitation back. He snatched it and stuffed the crumpled paper back into a pocket, and she stared for a second too long before sitting back against the wall. “So. You gonna go?”

“No,” he grunted, barely audible. He’d gone back to clutching his head.

“Is the cooking that bad?” Shilo quipped in a meek attempt to make light of his disturbance.

Drakken’s nostrils flared and his glare bore down at her, and she had to take a wild guess he was deeply offended on his mother’s behalf. She made a mental note not to insult the woman she knew nothing about, or her cooking. He didn’t bite back at her for the comment though, and instead grumbled, “I can’t go.”

“Why not?” she pressed coolly. She relaxed back down on her side, pillows bundled under her.

“I haven’t seen Mother since—,” he groaned and deflated. By the light of a stormy night scene glowing from the television, he looked bluer than she’d ever seen him before.

“Since?”

He heaved a defeated sigh, and she barely heard him mumble, “Since before the incident.” A small gesture to himself sufficed. It shed a little light on why he was having such a bad day.

“Oh.” She quirked her mouth and shrank down a little. She had nothing to be guilty for. The chain of events wasn’t her fault. “How’d you get mixed up with Gemini anyway?” she blurted, and immediately considered that maybe she should have kept her lips zipped.

“I don’t want to dredge up – alright! Stop kicking me,” he groused, shoving her heel roughly away. “I suppose it all began in a Hellhole I bussed when I stole the game plan from one of his agents. And then after you – after I let you go.” He glowered and chewed on something bitter for a moment before spitting it out with some more frustrated gestures thrown in. “Right after. They tried to intercept but got me instead. I was interrogated, and he was about to off me himself until I pled for my life and offered my services and allegiance. It was not my proudest moment. Are you satisfied?”

She knew Gemini. She knew he could be cruel and merciless, holding little regard for human life. Drew Lipsky of four years ago must have shown promise, whatever he’d done to sway the head of the criminal spy organization. She tried to imagine her bumbling rogue doctor, still pasty-skinned and stinking of pickles, walking on eggshells around the leader of the pack. How he’d survived more than a day without being dropped down a chute to be fed to piranhas or crocodiles was a wonder. It had to be a sore spot.

A mousy little, “Sorry,” was the only thing Shilo could think to say.

“For what?” he grumped.

She shrugged halfheartedly. “For getting you mixed up with villainy?”

Suddenly the dismal man’s shoulders shook, but before she could suspect a sob, he threw his head back and a bitter chortle erupted from him. He was well on his way to maniacal laughter, and Shilo was taken aback as he laughed in the face of her sentiment. She wished she could take it back as he shot a nasty sneer over at her. For a fleeting moment, there was something sinister behind his eyes to remind her there may have very well been something to his self-proclaimed villain title after all.

“Sister, I was born twisted. You and Gemini were just the breakthrough I needed,” he stated with a growl like corrosive acid, maybe the same acid burning a hole through his soul. She’d like to believe he was more resilient than that – but that wouldn’t make him very evil, would it? That was what she was with him for, wasn’t it?

She felt rather foolish now for lying down so comfortably. For being comfortable in his presence at all. Too stubborn and jaded to let him know he was capable of worrying her though, she kept herself in check and maintained a deadpan stare on him until the darkness behind his eyes lightened up a little.

“Twisted, huh?” she jibbed with a small chuckle. “You seem like just a big softy to me.”

There was a hint of something genuine in the smile he cracked. “Oh, I’ve got skeletons,” he assured. “You should see my basement.”

She rolled her eyes at his misuse of the expression.

[fan-wicktion]

SPARROW (11)

MASTER LIST

a/n: Sorry for the weird format!!! Trying something new and of course it isn’t the greatest but here we are! Here’s the deal: the beginning of this story has audio. Please press play when you see the word “music” in bold, then stop it when you see in again in bold. Don’t count the pre-story summary or anything like that. Just the actual narrative.

warnings: violence typical of John Wick, bad language

Summary: You are an assassin who stole a kill from John Wick. He shows up in your apartment for revenge, but you managed to escape after some confusing sexual tension. You fled the country pursuing a new contract, but ruffled some feathers along the way. Winston orders John to hunt you down and bring you back to him, and he intends to kill you as punishment for your misstep. John finds you (of course), ties you up and transports you to a secret holding house, and attempts to interrogate you. You get back at him later, mess with him in an airport, and accidentally end up bonding a bit on a flight to LA. Now you’re about to team up and blow off some steam on a good ol’ assassination contract.

————————————————

John glances up from stocking his tactical belt when he hears the music. He rolls his eyes, figuring he’d now be waiting another hour for you to get ready. Women and their—

BAM! The doors to your bedroom fling open, thrust by the powerful sole of your boot. In what looks like slow motion you strut out, a cocky grin smeared across your face. You reach up and smooth your slicked back hair, and then adjust your black tie as John’s mouth falls open in astonishment. Fuck yeah. Head to toe in a sleek black suit that uncannily resembled the one clothing Mr. John Wick, you stride up to him and do a little spin before cutting off the music.

“What do you think? I personally think it’s a bit much, but some people swear by it apparently—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” John glares down at you with what can only be described as seething admiration. You catch his gaze and wink, positively oozing annoying charm.

“Look!” You gesture between the two of you, acting like you just noticed. “We match! How embarrassing.” 

“You’re not wearing that.”

“And you aren’t my dad!” You stroll back to your room and begin the long process of strapping various weapons to your person. Today is going to be so fucking fun. Armed to the teeth, you return to him, hands on your hips. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he growls, ignoring the thought screaming in the back of his mind that you looked hot as hell. No distractions.

————————————————

As it happens, the contract the two of you were heading to fill was less than a mile from your hotel. Chester Marlan. He is a despicable cyber criminal with a global agenda, and his desire to cripple the internet had reached a dangerous level. When an anonymous tip had leaked his plans to replace all online fonts with Comic Sans (to undermine any and all legitimate websites), he was thrust into the Underground’s spotlight. Everyone knows assassins are classy, and this threatened their very existence. Oh, and he is capable of procuring any information he wants from any device in the world. Admittedly, that’s much worse.

You and John recoiled with visible disgust reading his bio, and you had to forcibly stop yourself from dry heaving when you read about his Comic Sans plans. This fucker needs to die.

Approaching the surprisingly well-fortified warehouse—Why is it always a warehouse?—you and John exchange glances. 

“Now, I trust that you won’t go running off on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, old man.” He rolls his eyes and slips through the side door, and you’re hot on his heels.

Side by side, you make your way through the deserted hall—pistols at the ready. John holds up his hand as signal to halt, and you both pause, listening intently for any sign of movement. Faintly, almost inaudible, you detect the light sounds of breathing just around the corner. An ambush! They must have caught wind of Marlan’s head price and expected us…

Catching John’s eye, you nod and reach a silent agreement. You know your own strengths and he knows his, and one of you is significantly more skilled at killing multiple people at a time. You’d meet up shortly. In the meantime, you peel away and sneak back out the door. 

Alright. Looks like I’m climbing this bitch.

You creep up a fire escape to the second floor, then size up the brick of the building. Nice and uneven—great for climbing. This warehouse was three stories tall, and you knew what—who—would be hiding at the top. Unfortunately the fire escape was all rust and dust past the second floor, and you’d be scaling the wall from here on out. Gunfire erupts within as you find a handhold, and even though you know he’s got it handled you can’t help but worry about John.

You reach a point in your climb where you are clinging to the wall next to your target window. Cautiously, you lean over and look inside. Marlan is seated at his desk, furiously typing at a laptop. An enormous guard stands in front of the desk, facing the door. From your vantage point at the window behind him, you can see beads of nervous sweat trickling down his neck. He knows he’s in trouble. Ha! If only he turned around…

Resetting your grip so that you’re perched on the windowsill—left hand holding you up, gun in your right—you lightly tap on the window. Marlan whips around from his hunched position at the computer and looks you dead in the eyes. Perfect. You squeeze the trigger, and the glass between you shatters as a hole rips through his skull. You pounce through the window and roll behind the desk right when his bodyguard opens fire.

In an instant, you’re back on your feet. You bound up onto the desk, releasing a knife to take out the man’s gun hand as you pounce at him. The knife embeds itself in his wrist and he drops his weapon with a yelp, toppling over when your legs wind around his neck. A pistol-whip to the face knocks him out. Easy peasy. A gutteral yell from below makes your blood run cold, and you’re sprinting through the door before you can finish him off. John!

Ignoring the steps, you leap down the flight of stairs and land with a swift tuck-and-roll that brings you to your feet—gun at the ready. John is staggering up off the floor, pulling a large knife out of his shoulder. The ground is littered with bodies and you deduce that he must have run out of ammo. His gun seems to have been flung across the room. Classic.

The man he’s duking it out with hasn’t seen you, and you’re quick to put a bullet in his brain. His body drops with a thud, revealing your silhouette in the doorway. John grins at you, then slumps so he’s sitting with his back against the wall. You rush over, pulling a handkerchief from your suit pocket to help stop the blood running down his chest.

“You dumbass,” you murmur, applying pressure. “How’d you let this happen?”

John chuckles. “I’ve had much worse than this.” He pulls a roll of duct tape from somewhere deep within his many pockets, then uses it to attach the wad of cloth to his skin. “That should hold for a while.”

Sitting back on your heels, you suddenly remember something. Shit! Gotta claim the contract! 

“I killed Marlan by the way. You were taking too long,” you smirk at him, standing. “Wait here. I’m gonna go snap a pic.”

He grunts in response and you jog back upstairs.

————————————————

It’s been too long. John stands and brushes himself off, rolling his neck around a bit to ease the ache of combat. It takes 2 seconds to take a picture. Unless she’s being dumb again and setting up some shot…

His brows furrow as he swiftly scales the stairs, worried you’ll somehow worsen your standing with Winston. 

As he steps into the room he sees the reason it’s taken so long. You aren’t alone. The bodyguard from earlier had evidently woken up, and caught you by surprise when you returned. He had you choking in a headlock before you could even cry out, and now you were silently turning blue in the crook of his arm. It had been minutes already without air, and your body hung limp. He was trying to kill you.

“Drop. Her.” John growls menacingly, wishing he had his gun. To his credit, the man seems surprised and even a little scared to see the tall, dark man in the doorway. He should have been terrified, but he didn’t know Wick.

John crossed the gap between them in a stride, whipping off his belt at the same time. 

CRACK! The body guard takes a stiff blow to the head and stumbles back, releasing you. Your lifeless form crumbles to the floor as John jumps the man, returning the favor with a leather noose. The man fumbles at the belt that encircles his thick neck, but is quickly losing strength. Reaching down, John quickly pulls the guard’s pistol from it’s holster and empties the chamber into his head. Fucking hell.

He kneels next to you as you open your bloodshot eyes, and everything hurts. You wince at the pounding in your brain and the fire raging in your chest, and allow yourself to be lifted off the ground.

“Thank you,” you try to croak, but it hardly even sounds like words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @chicksamwitch @mikaneonox @onebatch—twobatch​ @fandomwritrix @littledeadgirlwalking @minsugagenius @10yz @where-did-the-good-ones-go @catsmieow @xrevoltx @kezzasaurus-rex @homesoutofhuman @lunilate @coolbreezeinkeanureeves @bonky-bornes @lustforfern @so-not-waiting-for-godot @weird-civilian @linwavez

[dracwife]

dex’s comprehensive s/i list

this took way too long. will be updated as i develop them further! note that these only include a few of my main, more developed s/is, but i do have s/is for all my f/o’s universes!

[ evil dead ]

name: river kennedy

[ movie canon ]

age: 22

occupation: pizza delivery boy

physical: river kennedy was always on the taller side, his physicality being his foremost quality. he was the star quarterback in high school, and his muscular prowess didnt leave him after he graduated. finding no need for college, his routine consisted of working out during the day and going to work at night. his lean stature doesn't precede him - he can hold his own in the midst of chaos...and deadites.

6'0"

green eyes

dirty blonde hair

a southern drawl accents this cowboy's witty and devil-may-care temperament

while he's the more sensible of the two, it's only by a tad...ash and river are the quintessential "team one brain cell"

about: ash and river met on a wild night out during their high school years. needless to say, it wasn’t long before they ended up together, inseparable and making as many bad decisions as possible. 

sarcastic

upbeat

enthusiastic

here for a good time, not a long time

ship name: sympathy for the devil

[ show canon ]

age: 36

occupation: sheriff

physical: living in a small town has its perks - mainly that there’s not much to do during the day. the most action river sees on a daily basis is maybe a kid or two caught vandalizing the old bleachers behind the high school...and even then, it’s a stretch to say it’s much more than chasing down a teen with spraypaint. while he’s still physically fit, he’s not quite at his peak like he once was, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still hold his own against whatever the necronomicon may throw at him.

6'0"

green eyes

dirty blonde hair

a southern drawl accents this cowboy's witty and devil-may-care temperament

while he's the more sensible of the two, it's only by a tad...ash and river are the quintessential "team one brain cell"

about: while they never quite settled down, river took some time on his own to live with his family. he and ash lost contact for nearly twenty years, until the deadites returned out of nowhere. upon hearing the news, river tracked ash down, and again their shenanigans resumed, for the better or worse, no one really knows. 

sarcastic

upbeat

enthusiastic

here for a good time, not a long time

ship name: born to be wild

[ saw ]

name: everett bailey ; salem

age: 23

occupation: freelance coder / web designer

physical: salem is not physically intimidating, but that doesn’t stop him from picking fights with those bigger than him

5′6″

bleached hair, often dyed

blue eyes

lots of leather

about: salem is, to say the least, a scammer who profits off of the ignorance of those less technologically capable than himself. for this reason (and for getting in the way of adam’s game) he too was punished, thrown into a trap that left him scarred both physically and mentally.

cocky

angry. just angry

daddy issues

drugs! probably

literally just a little shit.

ship name: waiting game / the jig is up / coma white / absolute penance (au)

[ twilight ]

name: holden cullen

age: 24 (at time of death)

occupation: clinical attendant / physician

physical: holden is physically smaller than most of his peers, but don’t let that fool you - he can definitely hunt just as well as the rest of them.

5′7″ (short king mama hey)

dark brown hair / soft black

green eyes (golden after death)

freckles

about: holden met carlisle at work, where he worked as a clinical attendant. within a few months carlisle had introduced holden to the rest of the cullens, and not long after holden deduced their family secret, though carlisle refused to turn holden on the basis that holden could live happily as a human. after a particularly nasty car crash, however, carlisle was forced to turn holden lest he let him die, and thus holden was finally a true member of the family. in his spare time during his “recovery,” he was able to complete his doctorate, and now works alongside carlisle at the clinic.

upbeat

fun-loving

dedicated

kind-hearted

absolute dad

holden’s gift is similar to that of jasper’s - with a strange type of pathokinesis, he is able to dull the pain (physical and emotional) of others, instead taking it himself. 

he uses it to help carlisle destress most of the time - when he was human, carlisle would always say just how comforting it was to be with holden, that he had a sort of warmth to him, and that warmth followed him even after his death. carlisle describes the calming nature of it as though holden has “sunlight in his hands,” as a mere touch from him can bring complete serenity. 

ship name: sunlight in his hands 

[ house, m.d. ]

name: rowan kirk

age: 30

occupation: pediatrician

physical: rowan is likely the least intimidating person you’d ever meet - he’s very quiet, and very bubbly. his stature is rather lax, and his soft temperament is complimented by his just as inviting looks, making him the perfect doctor for even the rowdiest of children.

5′8″

strawberry blonde hair

green eyes

freckles

always smiling

never seen without a stuffed animal and at least 10 lollipops in his lab coat

about: rowan is a kind-hearted doctor, driven by an inexplicable need to help others. it was for this reason that he quickly caught the eye of james, and together they make quite the hopeless pair of romantics.

has good intentions

soft-spoken

hates star trek jokes

absolute hopeless romantic

Repressed Trauma tm

always cold gay

ship name: sunshine & star trek jokes

[ quantum leap ]

name: dexter marsh

age: 26

occupation: chemist/biologist

physical: while short, dex’s wit makes up for more than enough of what he lacks in height. he’s far more on the nerdy side, bookish in all senses of the word.

curly hair

freckles

brown eyes

short

wardrobe consists of sweaters exclusively

about: dex works as a chemist on the starbright project alongside sam and, after one too many late nights spent on research they realized the feelings they harbored for each other were those of more than just friends.

quiet, but brilliant

strange fascination for chemistry and biology

hired on originally as a data analyist for the starbright project

married to sam after his leap home

has two dogs, a german shepherd and a husky named melody and marley respectively

ship name: terminally good

[ gotham ]

name: dexter “cheshire” chester

age: 23

occupation: gang leader

physical: his grin as wicked as the cheshire cat himself, dexter dons stripes and a leather jacket to complete his look

catlike reflexes

nearly always high

blue eyes

bleached hair, a few purple streaks to accent it

never seen without his trusted smashin bat

about: having found his family through his gang, he runs the strays of gotham alongside his adopted sister queen, and finds his niche in illegal dealings

cares far too much for his “family”

gained the nickname cheshire from a combination of his gang’s name and the fact he always seems to disappear from the scene of the crime

peddles an experimental drug called “jabberwock” which is similar to speed as well as weapons and other illegal substances

ship name: down the rabbit hole

[ phantom of the opera ]

name: adonis

age: 20

occupation: performer ; actor / singer

physical: adonis knew from a young age that he hated his body. it simply felt wrong, and though he had a talent for the musical arts, he passed at the opportunity to perform in lieu of working as a stagehand, passing as male and taking the name adonis.

trans (ftm)

binds with a corset even though it isn’t healthy

dirty blonde hair

blue eyes

doesn’t own a single shirt that fits him properly

about: he caught the eye of erik when, on a whim, he sang aloud to himself on stage as he was readying the props for a show. erik was smitten from that day, intrigued by the young man and his strangely beautiful voice. since then, erik has helped adonis train his voice, and he now performs on stage and is very popular among the patrons of the theater. 

ship name: gods & monsters

[ ahs ]

name: clarence miller

age: 20

occupation: performer

physical: born an albino, clarence miller was inducted into elsa mars’ freakshow at a young age, and now looks up to her like a mother. 

pale, pale, pale

short

nearly blind due to albinism

does not own any clothes that fit, actually

about: clarence is quiet and keeps to himself most of the time. while he doesn’t have any standout talents, he acts as a tickettaker for the freakshow

has a little pet lizard

falls asleep in the booth a lot

cannot go out in the sun for long

dandy can and WILL kill for him

ship name: dance macabre

[ ghostbusters ]

name: oasis*

age: unknown* (deceased)

occupation: physicist / parapsychologist

physical: while he does seem human in all aspects, oasis is far from it.

extremely pale

white hair

green eyes

lanky

can and will appear behind u...nothin personnel, kid.....

just can’t stop floatin’ sometimes

about: *while oasis is not his real name, it was the name of the theory accredited to him, in which he believed there to be two planes of existence, one of the living and one of the dead that are consistently manipulated by each other, the phenomenon that results are noticeable but often disappear when investigated further, “Like a mirage, and oasis in the desert.”

ship name: oasis theorem

[myrainydayloves]

Ain’t No Rest For the Wicked

In an attempt to soothe Apollo’s nerves, Annaka goes for a late night evidence hunt. She encounters all sorts of midnight enemies like gangs, poker games, and troublemaking ex-boyfriends. All part of business as usual. TW: Knife fighting and light strangulation. 

(TWO FICS IN ONE NIGHT??? YEAH! Uh no serious. You might see some familiar characters in here but that’s bc it’s my self insert world and I’m not bound by the rules of copyright)

There were three things Annaka was looking forward to when she walked into the Wright Anything Agency at two-thirty AM. One, the leftover Chinese food Phoenix had left in the fridge for her to eat when she got home from her mission. Two, her favorite chair being unoccupied and ready for her. And three, a blanket she had thrown in the dryer before she left. She would finally be able to catch more than an hour of sleep before waking up the next morning to help Phoenix again.

So the anger that coursed through her when she walked into see Apollo sobbing over the papers on his desk in her favorite chair, with an empty Chinese food takeout container next to him, and curled in her blanket was immense. If he hadn’t been fully bawling, she would have honestly strangled him to death. But he was sobbing uncontrollably, head buried in his arms as he gasped for air between bursts of tears.

“Apollo?”

He looked up, snot running from his nose and his eyes bright red from tears. “A-Annaka?”

“What the fuck happened?”

Apollo burst into tears again, head rolling back as he cried so hard he was almost a human fountain. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna lose this case!”

“And?”

“And an innocent person is gonna go to jail and I’m never gonna be able to get another case and I’ll be stuck here! Cleaning toilets for the rest of my life!”

She walked over to the crying young man, picking up what few non-tear soaked papers there were to read them. “Oof, Yeah. Simon’s really painted you into a corner…”

As Apollo sobbed even harder, she looked through more of the papers before pointing to a sentence. “All you need to find is proof this guy bought the poison right? Then your client goes free?”

“But there’s nothing! No one knows where he could have gotten it and my client is a chemist!”

With a hum, Annaka resigned herself to more work. “I’ll get you the info. You stay here and take a nap on the couch, okay?”

“I-Okay…”

There’s no rest for the wicked, Annaka thought as she walked down the stairs and onto the LA streets. Her heeled boots echoed through the quiet as she walked to her bike. She threw herself on her trusty motorcycle, turned the key, and settled into her business. There was nothing like the bass of some pop song bumping through her helmet as the street lines shot past her. She weaved through the streets as easily as a needle through cloth.

And the paved streets that housed the Wright Anything Agency degraded into potholes and cracked streets. It was a sign she was entering a whole new world rather than the squeaky clean one Apollo knew.

She slammed on the brakes midway through a tunnel, stopping the bike so that next to it was an unassuming door into the tunnel proper. In the dark, Annaka coughed.

“It’s rude to keep a lady waiting,” she said to the door. “Plus, I need someone to park my bike and I’ve got something I need explained.”

The door opened to reveal an eye patched man with silver hair leaning against it’s frame. “So the witching hour brings old devils to my door.”

“Cut it, Niles. Is Nyx in tonight?”

“What’s it to ya?”

“Need to know where and when she sold poison to this guy,” Annaka said, climbing off her bike to show him the photo. “Got a defense attorney crying his eyes out cause she’s too good at her job.”

Niles clicked his tongue before whistling. A young girl appeared sporting a wrench and a grease stained shirt. Without a word, she took the keys from Annaka to park her bike and Annaka walked in. Gracious as the Chester Cat, Niles opened a hatch for Alice to fall down into.

And she did.

Landing on her ass in front of the ruler of LA’s biggest gang was something she was unfortunately very familiar with. Annaka rubbed her butt as she stood and Niles slid down the ladder behind her. The boss raised an eyebrow; he was as he always was, refined and poised but unequivocally dangerous. He had been enraptured in a game of poker before she had tumbled down and now looked at her over his cards.

“Little Princess,” he said with a wave of his hand. “How are you?”

“Good and you?”

“Business is booming. Scalped tickets to Prosecutor Gavin’s concert sold for three times their worth.”

“Well considering they’re worth nothing, I’m sorry to hear you’re still in the red.”

The boss laughed and patted the seat next to him. “So cutting Little Princess. How is your lawyer friend?” He jerked his head to the unnamed dealer. “Deal her in.”

“Still better at poker than either of us.” A king of Spades and a three, she sighed inwardly at her luck. “Call and can I get a drink?”

“Of course, Annaka!” Cried a pastel pink haired girl from the darkness. “Your usual Shirley Temple?”

“Yeah, Thanks Felicia.” She tapped the table. “You making a play or what, Xander?”

“What?” The boss asked. “Call.”

A well dressed man next to Annaka sighed. “I’ll fold. There’s no point trying to play when such a beautiful woman is at the table. I’ll only fall more in love with every raise.”

“Stuff it, Laslow.”

The dealer laid down a pair of threes and an ace. Xander raised a hundred chips. Annaka called. Laslow sighed and took the cherry from her Shirley Temple. Xander called. Annaka called. Laslow presented the stem of the cherry which he had tied into a knot with his tongue.

Xander had nothing. Annaka had the high card. Laslow had a handprint carved onto his cheek.

“Info,” Annaka said as Laslow rubbed his stinging cheek. “Nyx sold the man in this picture poison. In front of what security camera did the sale happen?”

“What makes you think we did it-“

“Standard procedure. You help people who help themselves. If the guy was smart enough to cover his face then Apollo’s screwed. But I’m betting he wasn’t.”

Xander hummed and leaned onto the table so he could pick up a lock of her hair. He rubbed the curl between his fingers in a move that was less power and more praising. Finally he patted her head.

“Annaka. If you ever get tired of dealing with boys and lawyers, there is always a place for you by my side.” Xander cracker the first smile of the night. “We have boys for you to play with too, you know.”

Annaka smiled back. “I don’t need to join to play with Laslow, Big Bro.”

He laughed dryly, amused but exhausted by his retainer. “The camera on 38th on the side of the LA bank.”

“The one that over looks the farmer’s market? Since when do we sell produce? Fuck that’s smart. Thanks, Xander.”

She scrambled up the ladder at half past three am and rode to the bank. In the dead of night, it was more than destitute. Which was good because Annaka had a feeling she was gonna need to pick the lock.

After a few minutes fiddling with the lock to the security entrance, she entered to see the camera room empty. Judging by the cup of coffee on the desk, that meant someone had gotten to the guard before her.

And only one person in this city could get the drop on Annaka.

“Well well well, I never thought I’d see you in the flesh again. Have you gain weight?”

Izaya.

Turning slowly to meet the knife pointed in her direction, Annaka smiled. “Gained as many pounds as you lost inches off your dick.”

“God,” he said, gliding forward to thrust the knife at her chest. As she ducked, he slashed downward, barely catching her left ear. Pain was the word on her mind but the blood would have to wait.

“You have-”

Izaya cut the edge of her denim jacket.

“Always thought-”

A slice aiming for her eyes missing to connect with the metal racks behind her. Izaya scowled as she rolled to the other side of the room. Annaka flicked her skirt up to reveal her own set of precious knives and he rolled his eyes.

“That you’re so cute.”

“You used to think I was.”

“I still think you are.”

“Then I have reason to believe my thoughts!” Annaka ducked under his blade and aimed her own stab at his ankles. Jumping, he laughed.

Now that they had swapped positions in the room, Annaka blew a piece of hair out her eyes and demanded, “Whatever video you took from the camera, I need.”

“Now why do you need something like that?”

“Polly’s needs a-”

Izaya shot forward as she started to answer. She barely had enough time to meet his knife inches from her face. He pushed with all his strength and Annaka’s arms shook under the pressure. Ducking away, his momentum carried him past her. Burying her heel in his back, she helped push him into the racks.

Before he could get up again, she jumped on him, pinning him down with her weight and driving her knife into the ground next to him. “Stay down,” she hissed.

His mouth curled into a beautiful sneer and his knife clattered to the ground. “Do you end up on top with Apollo? You seem used to thi-”

Annaka wrapped her hands around his neck, pressing against his throat. “I know this is the only human touch you’ve felt this week but I need the video, Izaya. No more games.”

His hands flew to hers to uselessly try and loosen her hands. She tightened her grip on his throat until he slapped a pocket of his jacket. Still keeping one hand wrapped around his throat, Annaka searched the pocket before producing a thumbdrive.

“This better have what I need on it, Izaya.”

“It does,” he choked out.

Releasing him, Izaya coughed and gasped for air. “D-damn...when’d you get ruthless?”

She stood up and offered his a hand. After taking it, she hauled him up and dusted him off. There was no room for hard feelings in the underbelly of this city. Next time, it could be his hands strangling her. Izaya examined the bruises forming around his neck in the reflection of his phone screen with a certain appreciation.

“I gotta jet. You need anything?” She offered.

Izaya shook his head. “I’m begging you. Come back and work for me, Anni. There’s nothing in this city that could stand against you and I together.”

“Sorry, but the sunshine is calling my name.” Annaka tossed him his knife. “See ya ‘round.”

In a few seconds, she was back on her bike riding toward the Agency. Before she walked in those, she gave herself a once over in the window. Her ear was still bleeding. Izaya had gotten her pretty damn good. There were probably stitches in her future. Annaka would be sure to send him the bill for that and the jacket he’d now ruined.

“Dick,” she muttered, pulling out bandages from her bike’s seat.

After quickly wrapping herself up, Annaka checked her watch to see the numbers flash 4:42. Apollo was fast asleep on the couch and she set the thumbdrive on his desk, slapping a little post it note on it. Then, exhausted, she fell into his chair and let her head roll back.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she mumbled. Just before she started to recollect herself so she could drive herself to the E.R, Annaka’s phone rang. Her hand unfortunately brought it to her good ear and she growled out a, “Go for Annaka.”

“Annaka! My case! The file! It’s gone and the window is open and I think someone broke into my apartment but they got away before I could kick their butts! But my case file is gone!” Athena wailed, deafening her.

Annaka sighed, hit end call, and stood up. Looks like E.R was gonna have to wait.

[dahl-my-life]

From the Shadows

Chapter Two:

Come What May

“Wilson Percival Higgsbury! By Odin's beard, what did you do to the bread?” Elizabeth O'Neil yelped when she found the bakery full of smoke. She reached for the eight year old, bringing him outside to clean air.

“I'm sorry mum…” Wilson gasped between coughs, “I wanted to surprise everyone but the oven door locked on me. Then Loki stole the chair and and--” his turned away as tears filled his eyes.

“Oh wee lamb,” Elizabeth gingerly pulled him into her arms. “Shh love, no harm done my little prince.”

“But now today's stock is ruined!”

Elizabeth tucked back some of her curly strawberry blonde hair while chuckling softly, “well that's why we get up at dawn, no? We'll salvage what we can and donate what cannot be sold. A little smoke never harmed.”

Wilson still didn't meet her gaze. “If I hadn't been so small…”

“Wilson, look at me love.” She carefully lifted his chin, “there is nothing wrong with you. Cast those nasty thoughts from your mind for they do not matter.” Elizabeth stood, picking him up and nuzzled him fondly, “you are my little prince and your mama's pride and joy. That's all that matters.”

“Mama's proud?” Wilson whimpered.

“Oh, I'm positive that your mama is looking down with the biggest smile on her face! She's probably telling Freya all about you too!”

Finally, a smile lined his face. “Can you tell me another story from when you and mama were little?”

“I'll tell ya all the stories you could ever want while we make bread, deal?”

“Deal!”

Elizabeth nuzzled him again before calling for the large hound. “Loki, to my side!”

The black wolf-like hound raced to her side in excitement before beginning to circle the two. He whimpered, blue eye watching Wilson nervously.

“Loki, be still.” Elizabeth raised a brow, “your little charge is safe now. Now have I told you about the time your mama was kidnapped by my brother Skylar’s horse?”

“No,” Wilson giggled as he nestled closer to Elizabeth, enjoying the scent of lavender that wrapped around her.

Wilson felt something nudge his face. He could faintly smell fresh lavender yet opening his eyes, Chester was there instead of his adoptive mother.

“Rarf!”

“Good morning to you to you too.” Wilson chuckled, reaching over to pet Chester. “I’m sorry did I worry you?”

Chester tugged on Wilson’s sleeve until he got annoyed and decided to push Wilson’s back.

Wilson sat up. “What has gotten into you Chester?” He carefully pulled his friend into his lap. “I promise I was just resting.”

What happened while I was resting? Wilson thought while calming down Chester. I made certain the fire wouldn’t go out and it was only about an hour till dawn...

“How about we go find some food and see about finding some gold alright?”

“Rarf!” Chester seemed to perk up at that idea. He began to bounce around the makeshift base in excitement.

Wilson chuckled, he reminds me of Loki sometimes.

He glanced towards the trees as a familiar shadow raced away. “Here I was hoping that was just from lack of sleep. Come along Chester, let’s go.”

                                                        oooo

“Stay close Chester.” Wilson glanced back when he noticed his friend paused again.

It had been a few weeks since arriving in the world. The two had been getting along rather well despite the strange shadow figure and the voice that plagued him.

Wilson rubbed his eyes; it had been yet another sleepless night.

Chester whimpered, nuzzling his leg trying to bring Wilson comfort.

You know...when I said “don’t go to sleep,” I only meant for that night.

Wilson rolled his eyes as the figure floated around them. “I don’t listen to things that aren’t real.” He growled, swinging his pickaxe at the boulder before him.

The shadow sat on the boulder before Wilson could aim his next swing. You should know by now that I am more than a tale told by your mother.

“Stop talking about my mother as if you knew her. She was a writer and a historian, nothing more.” Storm grey eyes glared into amber before Wilson sighed, turning away from the shadowy form that followed his every step.

Wilbook, the shadow lost his grin, I bring a warning.

“You bring a pain in my–” Wilson began.

A scream pierced the woods, bringing Wilson to a halt.

“What in the–” Wilson paled at the familiar sounds of spiders. He had hoped they wouldn’t run into any more until he had a proper weapon.

Chester growled, racing over to the edge of the cliff.

Wilson followed to see just what was happening. Fear froze him in place at the sight of not one but three Spider Queens and their armies chasing a woman around his age. She was barely keeping ahead of them and was hurt badly.

“Marion! Wil–” she coughed, losing her step slightly, “help please!”

Wilson raced to the edge that the woman was running near. “Over here!” He reached out his hand as best he could. Chester was pulling at his leg to keep some form of balance. “Take my hand,” Wilson tried to keep the panic from his voice.

She jumped, grabbing his hand with her good arm.

Heavens above! She barely weighs anything! Wilson decided to ignore that thought as he quickly pulled her up. “Are you alright?” He asked, carefully helping her to her feet. He tried to get a good look at her but paused when he spied how her ears were pointed.

“Getting there…” she sighed, “I think I hate spiders more now that I’m stuck here! Why are they huge?!”

Wilson chuckled, “I wish I knew. For now, I think ‘Hissing Watermelons’ is a good name for the jumping ones.”

Chester began barking as said spiders began to crawl up the short cliff.

“Do you happen to have anything that could light a torch?” Wilson quickly reached into his discarded bag for a torch.

She lit the lighter with a wicked grin, “always.”

Wilson quickly used it to light the torch and grabbed her good hand. “Good, then I suggest you light a few trees while we run!”

She yelped as she tried to keep up. “That’s what got me in this mess,to begin with!”

“What in the name of science do you mean by that?” Wilson ducked under a branch, setting it ablaze shortly after. He glanced for Chester before sighing in relief at how well his friend was keeping up.

“Meaning I was trying to get charcoal and managed to annoy a Tree Guard! I stumbled into Spider World by trying to escape my new tree friend!”

“You really aren’t having a good day huh?”

Any retort was lost to the sudden coughing fit.

Wilson spied the river that separated his area to the spider’s land. “Just a little further I promise.”

Chester bounced quickly across the well-placed stones and waited patiently for the two. He sniffed at the woman’s face when she fell to her knees, gasping for air.

“Try to slow your breathing,” Wilson knelt beside her. “Do you have any–”

“No...I’ve just been running for my life since dawn.” She looked over to where the fires were dying out. Spiders were running away out of fear and pain. “Good riddance!”

Wilson chuckled, “if I may...you had called out for Marion. Any chance you were referring to Doctor Marion Carlson?”

Amber eyes stared at him in surprise. “Yes but how did–wait,” she paused. “I know that hair...Wilson? Wilson Higgsbury?”

“Yes? Wilson Percival Higgsbury...at your service Miss?” Wilson raised a brow. She sounded familiar but he was positive he could remember someone with such strange markings on their face.

She looked hurt. “Wilson it’s me! Willow Everlight,” she pushed back her dark hair, “I sold flowers in front of the church every day from morning to midday and then we would have lunch together with Marion. You even brought me chocolates and would play the violin for us!”

Wilson could only stare. After what felt like an eternity he managed to whisper, “I was told you died…”

Willow’s eyes softened, “do I look dead to you? They told me that you boys disappeared without a trace a few months ago.”

“I really want to believe you but...you have to understand that Maxwell has been enjoying playing tricks on me.” Wilson stood carefully. “No one can bring people back to life...not even that madman. I saw Willow Ranee Everlight be laid to rest.”

“Wilson, don’t you remember the day we first met?” Willow managed to stand, pain in her eyes. “You were running late to a meeting with the Board of Governors and I accidentally tripped you. You went falling into the mud and the papers for the meeting were ruined. I remember how mad you got until Marion distracted you with a new set of blueprints! They were for the music locket that I still have, by the way. Later you came back with a box of chocolates from Ireland and a book of poems that looked like it had been rebounded at least five times. Said it had belonged to an old family friend.” Willow rambled until finally, Wilson sighed.

“Then you sang the loveliest song I had heard in the longest time.” He smiled, “I’m so sorry for doubting you Willow. I suppose it doesn’t help I almost didn’t recognize you!”

“What do you mean by that?” She frowned, brushing off her skirt.

“Well um,” Wilson gently lead her to the water, “I don’t suppose you remember having these markings on your face.”

Her eyes went wide as she took in her appearance. She appeared the same other than the dark markings on her face and the sudden change to her ears. “I don’t understand...what did Maxwell do to me? This wasn’t part of the deal!” Willow began to tremble, “he said he would take me to a place where I would be free. A place where my friend was.”

“Before you ask” Wilson avoided her gaze, “I haven’t seen Marion.”

 Willow looked away.

He reached out for her hand, “Willow, I promise we will figure out what he did to you and find a way to change you back.”

“You don’t think I’m…?”

Wilson gave her a reassuring grin, “you are my friend regardless of appearance. You are still Willow the Fire Dancer.” He chuckled, “you’d be surprised by what I’m used to by growing up in the O’Neil’s home. Oddly enough this is the tamest thing yet.”

“Oh really now?” Willow humored him. “I thought they were one of the more normal families.” She knew that was a lie, the few times Willow interacted with Gwenevere, Elizabeth or Henry were some of her fondest memories. Henry had pestered her into spilling what her favorite pastry was and from that day forward had made certain he had them on hand. Willow still wasn’t sure what had happened to Wilson’s blood family but knew he had been well taken care of. Some days she found herself jealous.

Wilson grinned, “let’s get you patched up and I’ll tell you some of the things I’ve seen while living in the bakery.” He offered her an arm. “Do you happen to remember Elizabeth’s brothers, William and Skylar?”

“How could I forget them?” She giggled, “Skylar bought flowers for his sweetheart and William was the bookworm who tipped over his own feet.”

“Well, one winter we traveled to Ireland to visit grandmother Eire for the holidays. Word had traveled to Skylar that Gwenie was afraid of horses despite the bakery having one to move the cart. He decided to have his horse give her a ride around the estate…”

“Oh no,” Willow couldn’t hide her grin.

“Oh yes. The moment Skylar had Gwenie sitting in the saddle, his horse took off. All I see is Skylar chasing after his horse, screaming in some language that sounded like Gaelic and William jumping on his horse to try and snatch Gwenie before she fell. Oddly enough, Gypsy Vanner horses were known to work as one with their rider but that never stopped Skylar’s old mare from being a trickster. Grandmother Eire finally came outside, called for the horse and we all watched the mare pause before calmly bringing Gwenie over.”

“Gwenevere still afraid of horses?”

Wilson shook his head, “Grandfather Vash and Grandmother Eire took Gwenie and I out riding later on. She fell in love with Grandmother Eire’s mare, Solas.”

She smiled as Wilson went on, letting him lead her to what appeared as his base. Willow paused at the outskirt with a bewildered look. “You still stress build…”

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled while his face flushed in embarrassment. “I suppose I still do. Building helps me think and…” he fell silent. “Let’s take a look at that wound of yours. I have some medicine that I swear my mother used to use!”

Chester nudged Willow forward when she still hesitated.

“Oh fine,” she whispered, “I won’t run away because of some medicine.”

He seemed content with that response. Chester bounced over to Wilson’s side, following him around the camp like a loyal dog.

Willow sighed. The camp was a lot more organized than hers had been but anything less wouldn’t have been the Wilson she knew. An orb caught her eye as she wandered to the fire pit. It sprung to life when she drew close, glowing softly and floating lazily off the ground.

“Not quite sure what that does yet but it was an interesting find,” Wilson called over. “The moon dial over there is actually really helpful. I remember Grandmother Eire having one in her many gardens.”

She sat next to the firepit, eyeing the bowl of medicine in Wilson’s hands.

“I know that look.” Wilson sighed, “Willow please don’t start this…”

Willow glared. “Heal yourself first.”

“There isn’t enough for both of us and I merely have a scratch compared to the hole in your arm!” He rolled his eyes, “were you this difficult with Marion?”

“Only when it involved bowls of lies.”

Wilson placed the bowl aside, showed Willow he was unarmed and took her injured arm carefully. He looked over the gash with a frown. “It’s already showing signs of infection. May I at least wash it out and bandage it for you?”

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore! See?” Willow barely bit back the pain as she poked it.

“Would cookies make you say otherwise? I’m not as great as Henry or Elizabeth but I can still make you pumpkin cookies at the very least.” He watched with a smile as her eyes lit up the same way they did whenever he surprised her with a box of chocolates or a box of Henry’s famous cookies. “I’ll make as many cookies as you want if you let me treat your wound, deal?”

Willow held out her arm in defeat. “Deal.”

Wilson didn’t dare test his luck and instead reached for the bucket of water and a clean cloth from Chester. He worked quickly and neatly, making sure to avoid too much pressure in case Willow decided to kick him like last time. Finally, he reached for the bowl of medicine. “Feel free to kick me if this stings a bit. I swear it will help.” He bit back in shock when Willow actually took him up on that joke offer.

Soon enough, Willow was looking over the neatly done bandage. “Almost as good as Marion.” She teased.

“Oh ha ha,” Wilson returned the smile. It was good to see her smiling again. When Marion had finally told him who Willow was, it broke his heart. She never showed signs of insanity or whatever it really was that got her put in that cursed asylum. In fact, Wilson vaguely remembered her parents refusing to send their daughter there in the first place!

“How are you so soft, Chester?” Willow buried her face into Chester’s fur after giving him a few good pets.

Wilson’s smile faltered a bit, he vaguely remembered being told about what the markings she now bore meant. Many of the stories he had been told by his mother were either lost or vaguely there. He stood suddenly, “I’ll go start on the cookies and maybe some stew. The moon dial is over there if you want to see what it does.”

“How did you even find a blue gem?” Willow asked, shaking out her skirts before tossing a stick for Chester to chase.

“Lucky chance in the desert.”

She took the stick and tossed it farther, careful to not aim at the Science Machine or farms. “Well, I am glad since I doubt you’d be able to fight one off a monster! They’d use you as a toothpick,” Willow grinned.

“I grew up in a bakery,” Wilson smirked over his shoulder. “Sacks of flour don’t move themselves you know.”

Willow rolled her eyes, “Marion always said you weren’t allowed move the bags of flour after the one ripped open and coated the backroom in flour.”

“That was one time and Loki bit a hole in it!”

“Uh huh,” she smirked.

Willow glanced at the dial again before deciding she’d rather stay away from it. The item seemed harmless but something about it felt familiar. She tossed the stick for Chester again, laughing at how fast he ran on such short legs. “Chester does remind me of Loki. How was that old wolf doing?”

“Hound,” Wilson absently corrected her as he brought over two bowls of food and a cloth bundle full of the promised cookies. “Loki was the same as he’s always been: trouble maker and protector of the family. I swear that dog doesn’t age!”

Willow took the bowl of stew, “thank you! You know? With how odd the O’Neil’s were I wouldn’t be too surprised to learn that none of them really aged.”

Wilson decided it was best to remain silent for once and placed the second bowl down for Chester. “Elizabeth takes amazing care of animals and Loki is the son of her mother’s old dog.” He shrugged when he sat across from her with his own bowl. He wasn’t even sure how to properly respond to the fact that Eire’s faithful companion was still alive and was actually a wolf…

“Hey, Wilbook?” Willow pulled him from his thoughts.

He reached over to add wood to the fire, “what’s on your mind?”

“Do you need any help in the camp?”

Wilson smiled, “you are welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

She reached out her hand, “come what may?”

“Come what may,” he placed his hand against hers. I told you I would protect you and I don’t plan on breaking that promise again.

----

This chapter was fun to write! I will start updating at least weekly from now on. 

Side note: the phrase “come what may” actually is a phrase my grampa would tell me a lot throughout my childhood. It will forever be a way to reassure myself and others when things start to go haywire again.

(Eire is from another WIP of mine called From the Shadows and I couldn’t help myself by mentioning them in here. Hopefully, I can start sharing her tale soon!)

[laceymorganwrites]

The Girl who spoke nerd: Peter´s pov

Word Count: 1,828

Pairing: Peter Parker x female!Reader

Warnings: mentions of bullying

A/N: I love writing pov of a character. And Spiderman. Hope you enjoy :) (Chester is an OC of mine, playing a part in my Deadpool Story)

„Stark, Parker“ the voice of my science teacher brought me back to reality.

I had been staring at her again, she knew.

Of course she knew, it was as obvious as me blushing at the fact my teacher hadn´t only caught me staring at her, but also decided to put us in a project together.

It was strange, somehow the teachers really liked it when I embarrassed myself in front of her.

We were also always seated next to each other and had to do several projects together.

Sometimes I wondered if they just had a strange sense of humor or were straight-up cruel.

„If you keep staring at me like that, I might explode, Superman“

She said it in an innocent way, but her smile was wicked and herr eyes gleamed mean.

The class had a good laugh at her comment and I just looked down at my failed attempts to draw her.

I could feel the heat in my cheeks and her merry laugh.

„I...I wasn´t...staring“ I tried to defend myself, but ended up stuttering, like always.

„Oh, Pete, I was just kidding!“ (Y/N) laughed even louder.

„Of course you were, creep“

Flash Thompson was the embodiment of a coitus interruptus, always too late and always failing, but everyone seemed to love him, to me he was just trying too hard.

He was afraid of (Y/N) because she was a mutant, which never bothered me, but because of that Flash wanted her to like him, so that she wouldn´t kill him.

Felicia Hardy asked him one day why he tried to impress her so much, which I heard the answer of.

He left and (Y/N) showed up to a Felicia who laughed villainous and told her all about it, to which (Y/N) responded: „You don´t need to be a mutant to be annoyed by Flash Thompson, but why the hell would I want to kill him? His wrong answers already do that“.

I laughed.

Her best friend then grabbed me, because I dared to cross their path on my way to my locker, and took away my sketches of (Y/N) just to show her.

That was about two months ago, in (Y/N)´s first week at high school.

„Ew, that´s creepy!Such a stalker nature“ she reacted.

„Yeah!I bet he does a lot of handwork on them, if you know what I mean!“

They laughed.

„I´m...I´m not that kind of guy!“ I tried to defend myself.

„Sure you aren´t.“

Then Chester, another mutant, came by and punched me, I just proceeded to leave.

It was weird in the first few weeks with (Y/N) in school, she acted like a stereotypical mean girl, desperately trying to find new friends.

One day she casually sat down next to Michelle, an introvert girl who never hid that she hated basically everybody.

So Ned and I were really excited to see what would happen next.

The day started with (Y/N) walking into school without her miniskirt and high heels, instead she wore dark ripped up jeans, a tight black shirt and sneakers, her hair was done up.

Michelle´s look was priceless, a numb expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed.

She put down her book and smiled back at (Y/N), who proudly showed her new outfit.

„Finally, you want to see the sketches?“ they did a secret handshake and Michelle laughed with (Y/N). „Yes, please“ (Y/N) responded and as soon as she saw them, she snorted. I always thought her laugh was like chirping, but this was cute, I couldn´t help, but smile. „What is going on?“ Ned whispered.

„I have no idea“ I was lost in the conversation, (Y/N) laughed at Michelle´s sketches and they talked about dancing and the band, gossiped about the stereotypes and in the end (Y/N) thanked Michelle for being her friend.

Suddenly the `Add sugar spice and everything nice´- attitude changed into the `She´s beauty she´s grace she´ll punch you in the face´- attitude.

And I had the biggest crush on her, and a science project to be done.

„I´ll swing by later“ (Y/N) interrupted me from grieving.

„Er...yeah...cool“ I gave her a quick smile and then packed my things for the next lesson.

It was funny how everyone was so scared of her when she was so awesome, Ned was afraid of her too, so I couldn´t tell him how I felt about (Y/N), that´s why I told him I liked Liz, the sophomore girl he was into.

The bell rang after another day of school which lasted too long and I hurried to get home.

I even spared the drive to the dumpster where I normally go to collect computer items.

„Hey, May, Ben“ I locked the door behind me to greet my aunt and uncle.

„Hey, Peter, how was school?“ asked May through the kitchen.

„It was pretty good actually, (Y/N) will come later, we have a project to do on X rays“ „X rays, huh?“ laughed uncle Ben.

Sometimes it happens that I don´t listen when I´m talking so the words just come out and it´s awkward.

„Is (Y/N) the girl you talk about all the time?“ May asked.

„I thought her name was Liz“ Uncle Ben called from the living room.

„Yes that´s her, Ben, Liz is just an alibi for Ned, he shouldn´t know I like her“ I tried to explain, as I accompanied him on the Couch.

„Why not?” he asked me. „Because she´s a mutant“ I answered and shifted awkwardly, the Topic of mutants was quite controversial. „So what?“ Ben shrugged. „I know you´re really tolerant, I don´t have a problem with that either, I just don´t get why people have, it doesn´t feel right!“ I got defensive again, but I knew I couldn´t Change a Thing.

„You´re just like your dad“ Ben smiled and I had to too.

„Everyone´s afraid of her“ I frowned, still not grasping it.

„Don´t you want to tidy your room?“ May remarked.

I checked the time and ran into my room, bashing the door and hysterically screaming a „Sorry!“.

Then I cleaned my room in ten minutes so it looked like (Y/N) could sit somewhere.

Finally the doorbell rang.

„I´m coming!“ I rushed to the door, passed  laughing May and Ben before I stopped to breathe and opened the door.

„Hey“ I grinned widely.

„Shall I pass?“ she smiled and after laughing at a reference of a movie I was pretty sure she had never seen I stepped back so that she could enter.

„You shall pass“

„So you must be (Y/N)!“ Ben stood up from the couch and shook (Y/N)´s hand.

„Yes, I am. It´s nice to meet you, Mr Parker“ she smiled widely. „Hello (Y/N), Peter has told us so much about you! Dinner´s done, do you want to join us?“ May came out of the kitchen and also shook (Y/N)´s hand.

„That would be really nice, Mrs Parker, thank you“ (Y/N) was very Kind. „You´re welcome“ May smiled and then gave me thumbs up.

„This is delicious, Mrs Parker“ (Y/N) said.

The dinner went on pretty good, as we finished I showed (Y/N) my room.

„Pretty“ she noticed.

„Thanks, so on what aspects should we focus?“ I tried to Focus on the Project rather than our future marriage and children, „Of course how x rays work, how to use them, x ray vision, maybe history, like who found it and how it developed“ she thought out loud. „Okay, I´ll start the presentation“ I offered and took out my Laptop. „Alright“  (Y/N) placed herself on my bed, searching her notes on the topic, staring at me.

I turned around to show her the design, she was smiling.

„What?“ I asked, blushing.

Her smile widened.

„Nothing, it´s just, you´re so nice to me“ she said. „Well, why wouldn´t I be?“ I asked. „Because I was pretty mean to you when I first came into school“  she almost sounded as if she was apologizing. „So what, everyone´s mean to me. I don´t mind“ I tried to Play it off cool. „Yes you do, Penis Parker“ she smirked. „Come on, not you too“ I was annoyed at that stupid nickname. „See it bothers you“ she remarked. „Of course it bothers me, who wouldn´t be bothered?“ I gave in. „Then why don´t you do anything against it?“ she asked, as if doing anything would help. „Cause I can´t, if I did, nothing would change, they would just keep going, only stronger this time. If I ignore it, it might go away“ I confessed. „You know what, Parker?“ she smiled at me. „What?“ I was confused. „I think you´re pretty awesome“ she now grinned and I had a rapid heartbeat. I didn´t respond to that, maybe I should´ve before I lost her, but it was too late, so only the memory remained, I wish I´d done something before she vanished.

Instead we just finished the project and one week later, I became Spiderman and uncle Ben died.

Since that day she wasn´t in school, rumor had it that she returned to the school for gifted youngsters.

I haven´t seen her in six months, neither have I spoken to her.

But Spiderman has, I´ve seen her in Brooklyn and Hell´s Kitchen, so why did she lie?

One day I walked around in the Bronx and I saw Tricity, my hero idol, she just fought King Pin with the Punisher, then they turned into a corner, where she unmasked, it has been (Y/N) all the time, and I watched from the rooftop.

That explained a lot, but it didn´t look like a mission, she left me alone.

So you can see why I am so surprised seeing her sit on my couch with her dad today.

He said I won a scholarship, but I was suspicious about that.

„Hey, Pete, can we talk?“ she looked at me with her (Y/E/C) eyes and stood up.

I said nothing until we were in my room.

„Listen, Peter, I´m sorry. I know the last months were rough for you, maybe you needed me, I don´t know that, I just know that I feel really guilty for just leaving you. I just, your uncle died, I didn´t know how to handle that, I still don´t, maybe you needed space, maybe you didn´t want to see me, and trust me, I understand that you´re angry and I´m so sorry.“ Her voice cracked. How could someone be so perfect? I just looked at her, I couldn´t believe she was really here right now.

„Peter, say something“ she whispered.

„You´re awesome, Tricity“ I smiled slightly and she sat down next to me with a big grin.

„Spiderman“ (Y/N) was so near to me, she looked so beautiful, she cut her hair and got her braces removed, her lips were full and rosy, her lips…

I leaned in without thinking and then I kissed her.

Her hand grabbed mine as she placed her arm around my neck and deepened the kiss, then her dad came in.

[phoena12]

Cuphead: “I’m not always a good person, but I do regret what I’ve done to good people. You’re kind enough to forgive me and I thank you for that. But I don’t deserve it.”

im sorry this took me so long to get to ^^” 

The ground is cold and damp beneath Dice’s tired body, theeffort to move and curl up into a ball for warmth is too much a trial and so helays there placidly, awaiting the embrace of death. He’s pretty sure that’simpossible for him but hey, a guy can hope. As he slips in and out ofconsciousness, wicked flames filling his vision one second and then to thelarge expanse of stars littering the sky another, he wonders if it’d be worseto end up in one of hell’s many circles. He knew all of the circles by heart ofcourse, having to dump many souls down there after, ahem, paying their debts. None of them went willingly of course, which iswhy it was such a relief when two idiot children entered his fine establishmentand meddled with the big boss.

Dice manages a painedsmirk, his lips splitting and small drops of blood forming along the seams. Itwas funny, almost hilarious even, when those two boy’s had come with theunmistaken naivety and innocence that youth brought through the smoke filledlobby. All eyes were oblivious to their entrance, coughing and splutteringthrough the initial intake of smoke as they were, save him and his assholeco-worker who had rushed to his side to tell him of them. No wonder there wasso much damn smoke in the casino. He’d set the boy’s up for a game and let themwin the first few times. It was only after the tenth game, when he’d startedthrowing out baits and using extra cards that despite his excelled proficiency,he was still losing. He’d silently admit to himself, he was impressed.

Then the Devil had stepped in and all else had gone seeminglyuphill from there. Dice’s life was made easier. Just keep an eye on the brats.Make sure they got the contracts and gave them to him. If they died? Make suretheir souls went straight to hell. It was easywork. The duo had steadily made their way through debtors and collected all thecontracts with a few cuts and bruises for the ride. By the time the two hadcrossed over onto the third isle though? Well that was when things started tounnerve him. Just how strong were these kids? That question was soon answeredwith the ensuing battle going in the boy’s favour and his beloved casinocrumbling and setting alight. They had fooled everyone.

Dice opens a bruised eye, his vision swaying and coloursshifting into each other, as he hears the soft tread of feet. His breathe, slowand ragged, puffs into the chill air as he surmises this is the end for him. Hewouldn’t put it past someone to end him right here and now, for all the sins he’scommitted these years and all the people he’s cheated. The Devil better have agoddamn suite waiting for him down there, or at least a chair. Lying face downin the dirt was rather uncomfortable.

Alas, he isn’t met with the sudden flash of pain that aknife would bring or the numbing crack to his skull. Instead, a quick gaspescapes the person’s mouth, followed by a light touch to his shoulder. He’s notsure what hurts more, the soft spoken “Dice? King Dice are you still there?” orthe gentle shake of his shoulders because both actions are too sweet a sentimentfor the likes of him. The strangers tone is familiar and filled to the brimwith worry and caution. The insistent shake of his shoulders that beckons himto stay awake and stay here and not to give up. He doesn’t move. He can’tactually move anyways but plays dead so that this kind person will just snuffat his dead body and move on.

They don’t, obviously, because the world just loves to playtricks on him. His mind is swirling a little now, the once far away starsunnervingly close to him and the ground seeming to shrink away. He doesn’t hearthe stranger call for someone, until another pair of feet come stampeding hisway. The ground shaking, or so it seems, as the called person in questionshouts with confusion “king dice!”. Oh boy, he definitely recognises that toneand suddenly it’s all too clear who is trying to help him and who is chargingtheir way to his battered self.

He curses inwardly, swearing hatred to any and all gods thathe can manage to think of. He grits his teeth slightly as the shyer of the twoboys greets his brother and voices his concern. He wants the ground to swallowhim up. Right now preferably. He shifts his body, gauging his strength andholds back a strangled groan. It catches the boy’s attention and soon enough Cuphead’svoice is in his ears.

“Are you dead?” directly to the point as always and hewishes he was dead. His doesn’t answer Cuphead’s question and when the silencestretches on too long for the boy’s patience, the young cup kicks him in theside. It’s not a very strong kick, more of a poke really and something thatshouldn’t have had Dice scream out in pain, bloodshot eyes wide and tremblinghands covering his abdomen. Fucking kid! The boys are bickering between eachother, worry, regret and anger warring in their voices as Dice’s vision blursand his breathe goes shallow. His body is numb and cold and he lets go. Worriedshouts going over him in waves, small hands shaking him but failing to rousehim. He lets the waiting fires envelop him and with a last thought to thisworld, hopes there is a goddam chair waiting for him.

~~0~~

He’s lost in a dream, one that fills his mind and makes nosense to his tired self, the colour green being prominent all around him, abackdrop of orange and red slowly fading into the distance. The sky is filledwith coins, spinning and twinkling, he tries to reach his hand out and grab onebut finds he can’t move at all. He gives up and stares at the sky for a while.Dice thinks it’s very pretty and wants to keep staring endlessly at it. Thereare voices too, though he can’t make any sense of them, one moment they are byhis ears the next their somewhere else in his dream. The voices mix and minglewith each other, squeaky, stubborn and gruff and then nothing.

Dice smells smoke tooand finds an imp, adorned in a chef’s garb, cooking at the casino’s stoves.It’s a funny picture but makes him worry, Devil never said anything about hisminions being able to cook. As soon as the Devil crosses his mind the improtates its head 360 degrees and Dice is met with two red slits for eyes,flames burning up around the little beast until its body has melted and allthat is left is those eyes. Beckoning. Dice flees that part and finds himselfsurrounded by flower smells and, is that cinnamon? His mind brings up the scentof an old cologne that he used to wear, one his father let him borrow.

Why is his fatherhere? He opens his mouth but finds its sown shut. He begins to panic, rockinghis body sluggishly left and right. Long black tentacles wrapping themselvesabout his body, forcing him immobile yet again and then his body wracks withpain. Sharp and hot, it doesn’t seem to end, tears flowing down his cheeks andthe string keeping his mouth closed becomes taut. He expects to wake up, tryingto move or wriggle or something, wanting to wake up. Then his eyes are there,or at least one of them, gleaming blood and malice at him. He knows that eye,tries to beg for mercy or make another deal but he only manages strangled moansthat stick in the back of his throat. It looms forward, a red line cuttingacross the centre and opening to reveal many, many pointed teeth. Saliva and blood drips from the coated maw andslowly envelops Dice’s head. He twists and turns but the Devil closes himselfon Dice, his fangs scissoring through Dice’s skin and skull, before coming tohis neck and snapping it clean offhis body. A guttural growl dripping rich crimson that turns into a throaty andgarbled laugh…

~~0~~

Dice awakes with a gasp, eyes wide and hands scouring hisface. Was he just eaten by an eyeball? What was all that other stuff?? Hebreathes in greedy gulps of air, expecting the creature to come back at anymoment. Once his heart rate is calmed, he looks about his surroundings. Itappeared he was in a room, solid wooden walls and a window that streamed infaint rays of light his initial surveillance. He was also in a bed; a softcomforter placed on the mattress, fluffed pillows and a slightly worn duvet ontop.

Despite the smell ofmedicine that coated the quilt and the, pattern(could he call it that? it looked more like a few half assed crocheted lines tohim) that adorned the centre of the duvet, it was better than a chair. Which hestill fully expected of course because this was still a dream. He thinks? Henotices a Chester drawer with some rather ancient looking antiques sitting atopit. Beside him is a bedside table; a series of medicine bottles (no wonder itstank like a hospital in here), rolls of bandages scattered about, an empty cupand a lone wooden chair with a green cushion on it.

Hah! See? He knew at least a chair would be waiting for himin hell, it didn’t explain any of the other things in the room but Dice ispretty smug about getting that much right. He eyes the medicine bottles andgoes to reach for one. He then notices the bandages strapped about his arm likea snake, small blotches of red showing through. Some of the events from theprevious night come streaking back to him. Calm, collected and preparing for afight he knew he would win. Losing that fight. Being turned on. His casinofalling like an uneven stack of cards. So much fire that spurted from theground and engulfing everything. He gets a headache just remembering it. Dicedoesn’t think he’s in hell, there’s no fire, no brimstone and no cackling imps.

No Devil.

So where the hell was he?

He doesn’t have to think long on it before he hears thesubtle creak of wooden flooring as someone makes their way up the stairs. He shiftsin the bed, straightening his back and awaits whatever horrors would greet him.

It’s much worse than he expected.

A grumbling and wheezing tone first puzzles its way intoDices mind, his guard lowering a bit, he cocks his head a little at the noise. Itcertainly didn’t sound like either of the two cup brothers. He was dealing withan old man? Perhaps his “saviour” was on the weaker side, which worked well inhis favour. He may be injured and indebted to this person but that didn’t meanDice had any notions of staying here. Just more water under the bridge. Except itwasn’t just any old man. As the huffing figure comes bumbling through the door,a tray with steaming tea on it, Dice knows there’s no way out of this one.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Elder Kettle greets, the tray In handshaking with his enthusiasm, he shuffles over to Dice, ignoring the pointedstare and lowered brows.

“I’d rather be dead” Dice grumbles, rubbing his temple.

“Well, had the boys not found you when they did, you surelywould be” Kettles catches the quip and throws it back at Dice, stern gaze andsturdy frown following suit. Kettle places the tray on the bed side table,knocking bottles and bandages over and drags the wooden chair backwards a bit,sits in it heavily and straightening, steam puffing out of his nose. “So…” hebegins, gnarled fingers clasped together and gazing heavily on Dice, “…justwhat did you think you were doing?”

It’s an odd question, given how little and how much theelder claims to know and from Dices past experiences with the man, he decides it’sbetter not to tangle with him at this moment. The barb still hits though.  Did Kettle know the control that the Devilstill held over Dice? Did he see the claw marks that stretched unevenly at hisskin? “How much does he know?” burns in his mind.

Dice scoffs, “what ah thought best” and leaves theconversation at that, looking askance out the window. Or he tries to but Kettlehas none of it and with a tone Dice didn’t believe possible of the antique.

“You thought it best to lie face down in the dirt and letthe world win? You thought it best to allow the Devil into your mind and fillyou with his nightmares?” a pause and a sceptical glance from Dice “I know,son, I know. He beat you and moulded you into his plaything. He made you intowhat you are, an extravagant and foolish child” Elder Kettle levels his gaze toDice, who looks about ready to explode.

Kettle continues his onslaught “you hurt people Dice, goodpeople, bad people but people all the same” Dice wants to sink into the groundand never come out, he hates how soft and commanding his tone is. Reassuring himto speak his mind but not overstep his boundaries. “You tortured souls andcheated people” Dice already knows this. Kettle knows this so why bring it up? Rubsalt into the wound why doesn’t he. Dice inwardly scoffs and decides this is apretty fucked up hell, even by the Devils standards. Kettle leans forward andplaces a rough hand on Dices softer one and looks earnestly at the broken man. “You’vecheated death and survived in a world full of deceit and hate and yet I don’t seethat spark in you anymore.”

“Get to the point” Dice snarls and snatches his hand back. Alittle freaked out by the man’s soft words and reassuring gestures, Dicesurmises this is all a trick.

Kettle sighs heavily and wrings his hands together, like a parenttiring of telling their child the same thing over and over. “You’re free nowKingsley, it’s time you forgive yourself, just like me and the boys have”. It catchesDice off for sure, makes his heart shrivel up inside himself further.

“I’m not a good person, I regret the things that I’ve doneto good people” Dice begins his voice shaking a bit, “you’re kind enough toforgive me and I thank you for that” a forced grin and a broken smile graceshis features as he looks levelly at Kettle, “but I don’t deserve it” his voicebreaks at the end and he fights back the tears he knows begs to break free.

“Ah, Dice…” Kettle shakes his head.

And that seems to end the conversation, Dice sits rigidly onthe bed expecting another line of truths to come hurtling from Kettle but theold man fumbles with the now luke warm tea, adding a sachet of powder to it andoffering it to Dice. Dice accepts the medicine and splutters at the bittertaste. Kettle rises from his chair and walks over to the window, gazing out athis boys in the garden. They had been quite forward in getting Dice someflowers to make him feel better. Such sweet boys.

“…maybe one day…” he hears Dice mumble between sips of tea. Kettlegrins and settles his eyes back outside the window. One day indeed.

~~0~~

“WE GOT YOU FLOWERS!!!”

Dice is abruptly awoken by two bustling bodies bursting intohis room and shoving an array of different coloured flowers in his face. He swearsand tries to back away from the flowery onslaught but the kids are relentless.

“Mine are the best Dice! Look look! They got real prettycolours!” Cuphead shouts over the noise of literally nothing else and shoveshis vibrant gifts at Dice. He eyes the bunch, and he assumes they would bebrightly coloured had Cuphead not grabbed the flowers by the head, the brokenstems and lack of petals a stern indicator.

“Hey mine are pretty too! These’ll make Dice better!” Mugmansqueaks, a small pout on his face at being second to show his bunch of flowersto Dice. At least he doesn’t shove them into Dice’s face, the array of whiteand pink a soothing sight, almost. Being awaken by two screaming children isnot ideal for his health. His head now swimming and vision blurring.

“So which bunch d’’ya like best?” the boys ask in unison. Godthat’s creepy.

Dice doesn’t really get a chance to say, not that he wouldpick anyways, before he faints and sinks back into a fireless sleep.

…

“Elder Kettle!! Cuphead broke Mr Dice!!!” the younger boytattles and takes off out the room.

“With affection this time!” Cuphead shouts indignantlyfollowing his brother and leaving Dice to his slumber.

[martinlawless]

British Cycling National Masters Road Race Championship 2021

Category D, 45-49 year olds, E1234 Garstang, Lancashire 7 August 2021

The British Cycling National Masters Road Race, like the circuit race equivalent, is an annual championship that has races in five-year categories. I’m in the 45-49 band, or ‘Category D’ class, for this one.

It’s on the Oakenclough road race circuit near Garstang, that goes into the Forest of Bowland, an official Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, in Lancashire. I don’t know it at all and drive the loop twice the evening before. I find out it’s brutal and look again at the maths I did to understand how hard it would be. I had the numbers wrong by some way. It’s a 10-mile lap with about 1,000ft of climbing each time, pan flat initially, that then turns north and climbs. And climbs. And climbs. For 5 miles in total. Then it turns one more time and climbs silly to the top. I will guess at near 20%. It then rockets downwards for 4 miles, more steeply than the ascent, twisting sharply here and there.

That’s not all. The road surface, in parts, is awful. Worn down and ragged through neglect and harsh winters. It’s beautiful all around, but the tarmac is ugly. You’re sheltered quite well on the ascent. On the descent you look west and can clearly make out Blackpool Tower, the Irish Sea and Morecombe Bay in the distance on a clear day – lovely – but you also face the fierce prevailing wind fresh from the sea. It’s a difficult course. And, for me I know it won’t offer the ‘traditional’ benefits of a road race. As I reflect the night before, the ups and downs I reckon will split the pack and it will be attrition for all individually.

Race day. The weather, as forecast, is abominable. It’s quite warm… around 15 degrees, but it’s very wet. Steady rain, low cloud and very often intense, heavy storms coming and going, bringing dark skies and low visibility. The sort of astonishing weather you take videos on your phone with and post online. Remarkably, as we take the briefing and get behind the car to the start, the rain stops and there’s even a hint of sun. We’d go on to do much of the first lap in the dry. But then it all came back with a vengeance.

I was pleased with how I’d dressed. Race suit. Thin, string wicking vest. Good rain resistant arm warmers. Aero-socks, utterly glued to the legs with spray glue. Neoprene full-finger gloves. Ashwell cap with a good visor. This worked well on the day. I knew it would not get that cold even though I was thinly attired. And I wouldn’t get heavy through soaked clothes. The fingers would be fine in the neoprene ‘wet suit’ gloves. I packed four gels and a chewy bar. I took one bottle, as my dad was in the feed zone at the top of the lap to pass new bottles. Every gram would count on this climbing-fest.

We’re off. We are mixed in with the 40-44 year olds race. There’s a good few DNSs – but there’s plenty about as we head off. The flag goes down from the car and we’re off. A mixed bag of riders from all over the country. There’s gravity towards local clubs but they really are from all over the place. Initially, it’s all good. I’m just surfing the wheels and settling in. Then it turns upwards. I can’t tell whether it’s nervousness or exertion, but I am finding it hard to get a rhythm on the ascent. I’m OK, but just can’t seem to get on top of my breathing. It’s surging and whirling a bit as everyone is releasing adrenaline and finding their way into the race. Maybe towards the latter of the ascent, I feel the pace is too hot and dig in and start to burn a match. Ordinarily in this situation, I might hide in the bunch here. The issue is that we’re not really going fast enough for the drafting effect of the bunch to make a massive difference. There isn’t really anywhere to hide. I figure we are already losing riders as we turn for the big bit. All credit to anyone who turns up to race, has a go, dies a death almost instantly and then comes back for more another day.

The big hill is cruel. I am well in the red and sliding back. By the time we crest it, I’m with four others and the bunch is several bike lengths away. But there’s no panic – from any of us. We know what to do. Without going deep, we hustle into a quintet and begin a chaingang. Our race is not over, it’s just a different way to do well.

Lap 2 is largely consolidation and finding rhythm. Cleveland Wheelers chap is a fantastic descender, and it turns out he used to race downhill. He just needs a bit of help on the climbs. Horwich CC fella is happy to do long turns and give us all a break. Chester CC rider is keeping spirits high with his jokes, and the shop team fella is quite quiet, I think hanging in there a bit, but helping on the front like the rest of us.

The rain gets really bad. No, like really bad. I can feel it spilling out of the top of my shoes. My cap is doing well to give me a clear line through my glasses. But it’s limited. It’s so thick and intense, it’s hurting on the downhill and I wonder if it’s hail. But it’s just walloping big rain. Potholes and loose gravel everywhere. This is very technical in parts. Too often the chosen line is the better of many holey evils. I take a turn badly and an oncoming Range Rover slides by too close for comfort. It’s rough. We put a lot of faith in bikes, hurtling around these lanes and over tight bridges.

We carry on though. My gloves are brilliant to fight off cold although dexterity plummets with them on. I attempt three bottle catches but only make one. I can’t feel much too well. That’s fine. I’m not too thirsty in this weather. I’m drinking from the road spray, as it were.

The turning point in my mind is late on. Earlier in the race, I’d expected we’d hoover up dropped riders into our gang. Those who would be spat out from the front. But we’d seen none. OK, through time checks, we knew we were losing around 3 minutes a lap on the bunch, but all the same, a solo rider would soon be caught. But, nothing. Then, in the latter part of the race, we pass one rider. He’s absolutely blasted. We urge him to get on our train, but he’s busted and twiddling to the end of the lap or something. This starts to make me think that the bunch is chewing up riders and they’re not dropping back, they’re quitting. I start to wonder how many dropouts it would take for us to place. National races have points down to 15th place. We could be in with a shout?

I’m galvanized. Of the five in our group, just me and Cleveland are in the 45-49 category. I think all we need to do is stick it out, not get lapped and get over the line.

My feet begin to hurt. I realise I’ve lost all sensation and have tightened and tightened the BOA dials until it’s restricting bloodflow. I loosen the shoes and feel instant relief, eat a bar to avoid cramp from too many gels and sugar, and navigate the climb once more.

As we take on the daft steep bit again, to start the last lap, out of the blue, the chequered flag is dropped. With just around 20 metres, the five of us realise our finish is suddenly in front of us and we break out a sprint. I’m caught out and I’m third of our five over the line. More precisely, Cleveland in my race category is in front of me. The commissaires decide to pull us out and shorten the race, given the conditions, with one lap to go – in part as mercy for racers and organisers stuck on the wet hill. I politely ask if we will still place despite this and not be classed as a DNF – and the judges reassure me this is the case. Suddenly, our race is done. I am relieved. It’s stopped raining. I’m in among the throng at the line and I now get to see the front of the race finish.

It’s amazing how in pieces the front of the race is. The soloist winner has a massive gap over the next few riders, who have minutes over the next solo rider, etc. I’m counting the riders, and their category, to get an idea of who is in race C and D. Eventually a very depleted bunch comes through. I count around 27 finishers in total for both races, with most being in the other ‘yoof’ race. I’m getting excited. Top 15 surely?

Back at HQ, I have a brief chat with Chris, the winner, and watch him get his National jersey. Amazing. Then I go to the results page. There I am 12th place out of just 12 finishers in our D race. Less than one-third the total. That’s 4 BC points.

On a bit of a high, me and my dad do a mini driving tour of the Trough of Bowland and I get a coffee at the Inn at Whitewell, widely regarded as one of the best pubs in the UK. This was a race where it paid off to stay in your comfort zone, keep a match or two, and keep your head down while others suffered greater. This way, you can, over time, survive when the pace and conditions are brutal – to climb the ranks over those who blow up.

It’s not the race I wanted through. I was quite a way off in power for the front. I resolve if I do it next year, I will focus on losing 4-5kgs. I’ll also be in the 50-54 band. That should all balance the ratio out a bit. It would be a nice summer aim.

I also can tell you now, if I do it next year, it will be raining reet hard in Lancashire on that Summer’s day.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/5755327593

[sandinz]

It may seem to some readers we spend most of our time enjoying ourselves. Together, with family, and with friends.

True, life in the Teutenberg/Walsh boathold (no household here!) it’s vastly different to the majority of people in our peer group. However, we are NOT retired. Barry has another two and half years to go; Sandra just over eight.

We do not, and neither of us ever have, rely on any form of public funds (i.e. state benefits). We DO have a small savings buffer as we’ve both ‘worked’ in the usual way for over 35 years each in our chosen professions. We have our boat, NB Areandare.

Adapting as we go …

This year has seen a marked difference in our travelling and trading plans. One of the most important things we’ve learnt since our bold/brave/crazy/impetuous (take your pick depending on your perspective!) decision to sell bricks and mortar, move to England, buy a narrowboat and leave our ‘normal’ jobs of Professional Photographer (Barry) and Midwife/Educator/Quality Coordinator (Sandra), has been to regularly review what we’re doing to attempt to sustain our chosen lifestyle. Up until very recently of course, I’ve also been caring for my elderly parents as their health diminished.

What we’re very conscious of is not getting sucked back into the hamster treadmill – or feeling coerced by ‘the powers that be’ into ‘ticking their boxes’.

Admittedly there’s been a few times such as the two applications for Barry’s UK Spousal Sponsored Visa (with the third one looming), or recently opening an ‘Executors Bank Account’ with my sister, or hiring a car from Enterprise (they ask about occupation this year having never done previously!), where not being able to simply answer questions about home address and employment, as most people easily do, can feel rather frustrating.

But … overall we feel an incredible sense of freedom ‘doing it differently‘ and NOT waiting to live until it’s potentially too late. We’ve known far too many people who have left this mortal world much sooner than expected. We both believe strongly this life is it. No point gambling precariously that there’s something ‘better’ to come in our worldview. As I’ve alluded to previously though, this way of living is not for the fainthearted. It takes courage, perseverance, partnership, persistence and planning (just not long-term or it’s just too freaky!).

Calendar Club – a joint venture

For the past two years we’ve both worked at Calendar Club outlets. In 2016 we each worked for people we knew who were running stores. Last year we successfully ran our own shop in Lichfield at the Three Spires Centre. A full-on fourteen week commitment, with only two days during in total when we shut up shop. We even managed to stay open during the period of severe snowfall.

However, with both of us running the store we each had sufficient time off. We’d chosen Lichfield as there were good moorings nearby, with public transport routes to the city – and it’s near family and friends, as Sandra lived in Sutton Coldfield for many years. And from 1st November to 1st March, 48 hour moorings become 14 day ones. So we were able to move the required distances during the time we were ‘working’.

We’re very proud that this year, as we met the Key Performance Indicators set by Calendar Club, we’ve been invited to run the Lichfield store again. It’s a brilliant way to earn a good sum of money, on a commission basis (we’re ‘Self-Employed Operators’), in a set period of time. So it’s ideally suited to live-aboard boaters who’d prefer not to work in the usual way. There’s obviously many other people who live on land who run stores and mall outlets too.

This year Calendar Club have a number of vacancies needing to be filled from now till October.  You can apply by going to this link and filling in the online form. Currently the areas where Calendar Club are seeking motivated and committed operators are:

Aldershot

Andover

Aylesbury

Bath

Bishops Stortford

Buxton

Chester

Dumfries

Durham

Elgin

Hastings

Hemel Hempstead

Hereford

Hull

Inverness

Kendal

Kirkcaldy

Maidenhead

Middlesbrough

Newmarket

Oxford

Reading

Runcorn

Southend

Stafford

St Albans

Swansea

Tamworth

Taunton

So get in quick if you’re interested!

There’s a number on the list with nearby waterways … Do contact us by email if you want to chat about our experiences.

The Home Brew Boat and Photography

Barry has focused mostly on on-line sales for The Home Brew Boat this year, doing very little towpath trading. We have three canal festivals booked in the Birmingham area in September. Most unlike the past four years.

He’s refining the products he sells, according to what he’s found popular. There may be more changes afoot in the near future, concentrating more along the distilling and spirits making line. That is more his area of expertise having been involved with ‘Still Spirits‘, the  distilling supply company whom Barry dealt with in New Zealand, prior to moving to the UK. So … if you want to know about distilling, the legalities of it and ‘how to do it safely and successfully for personal consumption only’, give him a call or email via the contact us page.

Last year Barry was invited to work with PayPal  together with an international freight company and which uses a website plugin to expand the reach of his business. It means his wicked website is translated into the language of the country where it is viewed so is able to have products delivered across the globe. The customer pays the UK plus extra international postage when ordering.  Barry organises the courier to the depot at Heathrow, and PayPal or their freight partner, do the rest. It’s been working very successfully so far.

He’s also increased the range of waterways related Greeting Cards to 47, with nine new ones in the last batch. Photography continues to be a passion – just in a very different way to his years in New Zealand.

The Worcester, Birmingham and Droitwich Canal Society have purchased some of his cards to sell at events they attend, and they say they’ve been one of their best-sellers! So … if there’s anyone else out there who would like to stock a selection of Barry’s cards, please do contact us.

He’s had photographs published recently in The Wall Street Journal and Waterways World, and we started a weekly Wednesday ‘Guess the location and waterway’ competition on his ‘Inspirational Images of the UK Inland Waterways’ Facebook page. The person to guess correctly wins their choice of Greeting Card from Barry’s range. Most week’s we’re a card down – occasionally we stump everyone! Click the link and ‘like’ the page, check it out on a Wednesday (the time we publish is variable) – and have a go yourself …

Reflections in Little Venice – published in The Wall Street Journal

A snow covered Areandare December 2017 Hopwas

Sandra’s becoming a Google Guru – at Ad-extra

Also this year, I (Sandra) applied, was interviewed, and successfully passed the required ‘Google Ads’ (formerly ‘Google AdWords’) exams, to gain a self-employed consultant contract with a fabulous UK-based company called ‘Ad-Extra‘. Over the past years I’ve blogged, set up and managed websites, and marketed our services through a variety of  Social Media accounts, so this seemed like a natural progression.

One of the beauties of doing online work like this, is the flexibility of the ‘hours of work’ – which can be mostly adapted around our lifestyle. It’s early days yet, but after working with the owner Dom, and the select team, since March 2018, I can honestly say I’m looking forwarding to building up my contribution to helping people promote themselves to clients searching for local businesses.

For any canal-related businesses, appearing at the top of Google searches may be something that would increase your exposure and income. Sandra Willis from The Doggie Boat, also works for Ad-Extra. Click here and ‘meet the team‘!

Duck food and Canal Art

These have been very small additions, so far, to our ‘portfolio’ of income generating streams.

We’ve been travelling a lot, and entertaining visitors frequently, so weekends sitting on a busy towpath attempting to ply our wares just hasn’t really figured on our itinerary! However, they’re both ‘works in progress’, and projects we’ll consider building upon during the remainder of this summer, early autumn, and in 2019.

  Letting go of Facepainting …

A few fantastic faces from Blisworth Canal Festival 2016

I loved being a facepainter since April 2014. It’s something I’d wanted to do for many years, and I believe (and was often told!) that I became rather good at it!

However …

I only ever got to facepaint OFF the boat. Which meant hauling heaps of equipment from the boat to a land-based stall and setting it up. Or hiring a car and travelling to events (that cut into the meagre profits!). And when people asked me if I did parties, generally I had to say yes and no, desperately wanting to say yes – but knowing it depended upon where we were expecting to be located at the time of the event. I’m convinced that if we’d been in one place, for a length of time, I could’ve built up the business successfully. As it is, with the lifestyle we’re currently living and loving, I felt it wasn’t moving forward. So I’ve made the sad decision to let it go – for now. Who knows, one day I may pick up my brushes, sponges, paints, glitter and gems again … Watching children’s (and young and more mature adults!) faces light up when they look in the mirror has been akin to waving a magic wand and sprinkling fairy dust on them. Absolutely priceless.

A kiwi summer

Our next kiwi guests arrive today, and are with us for three fabulous days. We’re currently moored adjacent to The Salt Barge, not far from Northwich. We’ve not stayed here previously, but will definitely do so again. A marvellous mooring and outstanding proper British pub.

On 25th July Barry’s older brother Ray arrives for three weeks. We recently heard his younger brother Peter has also chosen 2018 to pop in for a cuppa – or most likely something rather stronger! He’s literally popping in one day and out the next. But it’ll be amazing to see them both.

And yes, in between and during, we’ll both be fitting in ‘work’. Following that, September we have three festivals booked. October, it’ll be noses to the grindstone, and we’ll be focussing on making our Lichfield Calendar Club store as successful as possible.

We don’t always get the balance as evenly weighted to either side as we’d like, but mostly it suits us living as we are. For now …

Continuing to discover ways to sustain our flexible floating lifestyle It may seem to some readers we spend most of our time enjoying ourselves. Together, with family, and with friends.

[clodbatlet]

Ouch

That painfully awkward time Chet asked Sol out in the nurse’s office and Sol said no.

2332 words.

They sat in the nurse’s office, Sol bruised and unsmiling, Chet with a black eye and a grin.

In cots across from each other, Sol looked at Chet and sighed. Chet was way too cheerful for someone who just gotten into a fight with a six foot two, two hundred pounds football player.

---

It was a long story.

The short version was that there had been a soccer game, Chet had been called out for cheating, and it had become a fight. The long version was mostly the same, except with more details so the entire thing actually made sense.

See, Chet was on the soccer team and that meant he played matches with other schools occasionally. The problem was his play style, which toed the line into rule-breaking but never went over it. Almost cheating but not quite, so he usually got away with it.

Except this time, some kid from another school, whose friends were playing, had been watching from the stands. He saw Chet kick his buddies’ shins and hadn’t liked it. It was bad luck that he had been mad enough to storm onto the field and worse luck that he was built like a brick.

No one knew who had thrown the first punch, just that a punch had been thrown, and then two boys were scrabbling on the field, each trying to beat the other into the ground.

There had been yells of pain, screams of anger, and enough foul language to make a sailor blush. Even a small crowd around them, though no one dared step in - there was something about the way Chet didn’t hesitate to use his teeth while the other boy didn’t hesitate to knock his teeth out with his fists.

Sol had watched from the sidelines as Chet got punched in the face and promptly proceeded to bite the other boy’s hand. Then he had gotten up from his seat while questioning his life choices because he was Chet’s best friend and cared too much to let him get hit repeatedly. Sometimes that meant doing the things no one else wanted to do, like getting between an American football player and a British football player.

After all, Chet wasn’t exactly winning the fight.

So, in one of the most terrifying moments of his life, Sol had pulled them apart. It took everything he had to grab Chet by the arms and drag him away. No one was looking where they were hitting, which meant he had gotten his fair share of blows and probably cried a little.

As they left, it was a testament to just how much he was dealing with that Chet stuck out his tongue and gave the other boy the finger.

Sol had wanted to burst into tears.

---

So yeah, they were in the nurse’s office.

They were both a mess, faces bruised and dirt-streaked, clothes rumpled and torn. At least Chet was in his soccer uniform - Sol was in his school uniform. His parents were going to kill him.

Sol’s cheek stung from where he had been punched and the rest of his body ached too. Watching Chet swing his legs merrily, an ice pack over half his face, he wanted to hold his head in his hands. Leave it to Chet Chester to cause problems then smile about it. Sometimes he was way too much and Sol could not keep up.

He was just a quiet kid whose life was supposed to be nothing of note whatsoever. He wasn’t supposed to watch fights happen nor jump into them. He wasn’t even supposed to have friends who got into fights. So it was really, really weird that his best – and only – friend was a guy who taunted football players until they were mad enough to explode.

Why Chet had felt the need to do that, Sol didn’t know. But it had been as clear as the tilt of his head, the way he shifted to lean on one leg, hands on his hips like he was supremely smug about everything. Even if Chet hadn’t started the fight, in the sense that the guy had approached him and not the other way around, anyone could’ve seen that he had egged him on.

Sometimes it was like Chet had enough confidence for multiple people, like he thought he was invincible against the world.

Sol was glad he had torn him away. No way Chet would’ve come out with anything less than a broken nose if he hadn’t jumped in. As it stood, he had nearly been elbowed in the nose for helping him.

He would do it again, would help Chet as many times as he needed to, but really, Chet could try to get into less scrapes to begin with. For one, the side of Sol’s face was really starting to hurt.

With a sigh, he looked up to see Chet grinning at him.

“Cheer up, Sol!” Chet was saying. He leaned back and straightened his legs, stretching them out so he took up an obnoxious amount of space. “Your face looks like shit, go get an ice pack. The fridge is right there.”

Chet spoke while gesturing energetically with his hands, which Sol found both charming and annoying and couldn’t tell which it was more of. Though as he pointed to the fridge and shooed Sol away, it was closer to annoying.

“Fine,” Sol said grudgingly and got up.

He was way too nervous as he walked towards the fridge. The nurse had stepped out but it was still fine to open it, right? Sol didn’t know about touching things without permission, but it wasn’t like he was doing anything bad, he was just getting an ice pack. Even if he wished he didn’t need an ice pack at all.

Sol rubbed his arm, which hurt terribly, and wondered if he should be icing there or his face. But the bruise would be covered by his sleeve while the one on his face would be there for everyone to see, so he slapped the ice pack on his face and sat back down.

“Everything hurts,” he complained, just for the sake of complaining. “Someone hit me in the face. And the arm. And everywhere else.”

Had it been too much to ask that the two of them kept their fists to each other and not Sol? The least they could’ve done was aim properly.

Chet raised an eyebrow on the side of his face that wasn’t covered. “Me too, actually,” he replied. “Someone hit me in the face and the arm and everywhere else. It was a fight, Sol, what did you expect?” He lifted his ice pack and showed Sol the black eye that was beginning to form.

“Yeah well, I wasn’t even in the fight. I was trying to get you out of it.”

“I know,” Chet said and his voice dropped. “I know. Thanks, Sol.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it made Sol’s chest feel tight nonetheless. He didn’t need Chet to thank him, not when they both knew no matter what Chet did, Sol would always have his back, but it was nice to hear. Really nice actually, and now Sol had to look away because he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled, hoping he wasn’t making a weird expression. The ice pack was cold against his cheek, and he shifted slightly. “As long as you weren’t the one who hit me in the face.”

“Pretty sure that wasn’t me,” Chet said and smiled. He leaned forward, studying Sol’s bruise. “Yep, totally the other guy, that bastard.”

Actually, Sol had seen a flash of freckles before he’d seen stars so he had a feeling the other guy, as much of a bastard he was, wasn’t the one who did it. Not that he was going to say anything about it to Chet.

“Yeah. Fuck him,” he said instead. It was possible that he was a bit of an enabler.

“Right?” Chet said and frowned. “I didn’t even do anything and he just stomped on the field and started yelling in my face.”

Sol made a sympathetic noise and nodded.

“He said I was cheating, and I wasn’t. I have the entire rulebook memorized,” Chet said. “Everything I did was within the rules, it’s not my fault if the rules are stupid. Make better rules if you don’t want people taking advantage of them!”

It was nice that Chet was willing to admit he was twisting the rules so he could play soccer like a madman. Sol thought that made him kind of cool.

Chet propped his chin on one hand and managed to look both thoughtful and mad at the same time. “At least I got him back. You saw me kick him in the shins, right? Bet he’ll have a bruise for weeks. I hope he thinks of me when he sees it.”

He had the beginnings of a wicked smile on his face, though it dropped once he saw Sol’s unease. Back slumping, he let out a low sigh. “Okay, okay, I’m done talking now,” Chet said.

“Sure.” Sol figured Chet had a lot to get out and hoped he had done a good enough job listening. “I hope you... feel better?” He nudged Chet’s foot with his own, and Chet brightened.

“I do! Talking always makes me feel better. Talking to you always makes me feel better.” He paused and fell into a contemplative silence.

When Chet spoke again, there was something new in his voice.

“You were great back there. I was gonna get my ass kicked and you really helped me out,” Chet said. He looked down at his feet and jiggled a leg. “Actually, you do that a lot? Helping me and being there and stuff. It’s… really nice. You’re really nice.”

There was something helpless about his words, small and tight and unsure. But when he looked up again, Chet’s mouth was set in a hard line.

“I think I might like you. We should go out.”

Sol opened his mouth and nothing came out.

Chet was saying he liked him. Chet was saying he liked him and they should go out.

Suddenly, the room felt far too warm. Even the ice pack on Sol’s face wasn’t cold enough, not with how his cheeks felt like they were burning up. Sol wanted to duck his head and run outside, then find a quiet corner to hide in. But Chet’s stare kept him pinned in place. He had the look of a cornered animal who was waiting for Sol’s next move. The way he glared at him was intense, like he was challenging Sol to say something about it.

“Um,” Sol croaked and that was good, that was the start of something. Of what, Sol wasn’t sure, but it was something.

Chet made Sol feel things, things that he didn’t understand. He didn’t know why he always went to Chet’s games, or jumped into fights for him, or sat in the nurse’s office with him, an ice pack on his face. It was just what he did because he was Sol and Chet was Chet.

They were friends. They were friends. If Sol liked being around Chet, liked talking to him and seeing him happy, it was because they were friends. And it was scary to think about them not being friends.

Going out with Chet meant things would be different in a way Sol knew nothing about. It wasn’t like he had dated anyone before, so already, he was hopelessly out of his element.

What would it even be like?

Sol couldn’t imagine them going on cute little walks, getting ice cream and staring longingly into each other’s eyes. Thinking about holding Chet’s hand made him dizzy and faint, and he was terrified of how Chet would feel leaning into him. Maybe Chet would be all warm and comfortable and he’d even loop an arm around Sol’s waist. Then they’d be close, really close, and all Sol had to do was duck his head down before they were -

No. No. Sol wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t thinking about it. He wasn’t having a quiet freak-out in front of Chet, not at all. He was going to pull himself together, look up, and actually give Chet a response -

And oh no, Chet looked exactly how Sol felt.

Chet was... well, he was still sitting there. He was shifting uncomfortably, glancing at Sol one moment and looking away the next. He was dead silent too, which wasn’t like him at all and that was how Sol knew he was terrified for real.

Sol had been quiet for so long that it was probably making Chet think the worst, when in truth, Sol didn’t want to reject him or anything. He didn’t want to turn him down or break his heart, he just didn’t know what to say. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

But it was okay. Sol was going to open his mouth and say words, actual words that would make Chet understand right away.

He steadied himself with a hand on his knee, the beginnings of a syllable on his lips, and then Chet interrupted him.

“Nevermind, forget it,” Chet said, tense enough to make Sol stop in his tracks. “I wasn’t thinking. I was joking. Kidding around! I didn’t actually mean it, okay?” He laughed and it was not a pleasant sound. “I say weird stuff after getting hit on the head.”

This was what people did when they were embarrassed, take it back and pretend it didn’t mean anything. But, Sol thought, this was also what people did when they were joking and the other person had taken them too seriously.

Sol didn’t trust himself to know which was which.

But as Chet resolutely turned away from him, Sol wanted to tell him that he would’ve said yes.