#gotta finish the main fics i have for him soon

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: andrei got an all star weekend fic last year, so it’s only right that mat gets one this year! i literally have a million favorite pics from this weekend so i had to use them all i don’t care. i tried to hit a bunch of the main weekend highlights! i’m also aware that some of the timing and stuff is weird in the fic, but we’re just rolling with it and enjoying the vibes. 🧡💙

word count: 7k

tw: innuendo, dirty talk, protected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f recieving), thigh riding, extremely minimal editing

summary: all star weekend in toronto with mat is one to remember

“Who do you think will pick you?” You ask, settled comfortably in the middle of the hotel room’s mattress, wrapped warmly in the plush robe. You have the perfect spot to watch Mat at the bathroom sink while he shaves. He’s in his suit pants, but his chest is bare, giving you the opportunity to watch his back and arm muscles move as he works.

“Dunno,” he replies, slightly muffled. You can see his face in the mirror, lips tucked in and half covered in shaving cream. He lets his hand fall to the counter and turns to face you, a crooked smile on his face made even more lopsided by the shaving cream beard. “If it’s not Mo and Auston though, I’m leaving.”

You roll your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend loves Justin Bieber almost more than he loves you. “I want Nate and Cale to pick you. I want to meet Tate McRae.”

“You can meet Tate McRae even if I’m not on her team,” Mat scoffs, returning to his shaving. “When am I ever going to get a chance to be coached by Justin Bieber? Never, Squeaks! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“You’re such a dork,” you murmur affectionately, grinning at his back and tucking your face into the collar of the robe. You have to get up and start getting ready soon, but you’re too comfortable to move. Mat’ll go over to the arena earlier for media interviews and the red carpet, but you don’t have to be there, technically at all, but you want to see the draft.

Mat finishes shaving his face and wipes his cheeks off with the hand towel. “You’re not being very supportive of my dreams,” he informs you dramatically, tossing the dirty towel onto the counter and planting his hands on his hips.

You kneel up on the bed and gape at him, amping up the dramatics. “I’m spending my vacation in cold ass Toronto instead of Baha Mar because I’m supportive of your dreams,” you laugh, throwing your arms out to your sides. “Sue me if I want you to have a good celebrity captain.”

“The Biebs would be the best captain,” Mat replies, crossing over to the bed in a handful of steps, reaching out to rest his hands on your hips. His fingers play with the tie of the robe. “He played hockey and he’s a huge fan.”

“Are their colors at least the blue jersey?” You ask. “You look so good in blue.”

Mat lifts an eyebrow. “That would make you support my coaching dreams? The color blue?”

You hum, resting your hands on his shoulders, playing with the chain around his neck. “I’m very superficial,” you inform him, deadpan.

“Yeah,” Mat replies, equally deadpan, “me too.” He breaks a second later, grinning and peppering kisses all over your face, making you squeal. His fingers dig into your sides, tickling you under the robe, and you wriggle on your knees, slumping forward over his chest when you can’t take it anymore. Gasping laughter saws from your chest and you try to catch your breath, but Mat’s making it hard with his hands splayed over your back. They’re warm and slightly rough and you’re both really wearing barely any clothes, it would be so easy to drag him down onto the bed.

He seems to be telepathically picking up on your thoughts because Mat presses a kiss to your bare shoulder where the robe has slipped off and says, “I gotta finish getting ready or I’m going to be late. But when we get back after the draft, my body is yours to use.”

You pull back and grin at him. “However I want?”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “I need to conserve energy to reclaim my title tomorrow, so you have to do all the work.”

“Pillow princess,” you accuse, pouting at him.

“Just for you, babe,” Mat shoots back, cupping your chin in his hand and tilting your head back so he can really kiss you, licking into your mouth and leaving you wet and wanting when he pulls back. “Start thinking about what position you want me in.”

He winks, laughing, and heads back to the bathroom to finish getting his hair in place. You slump back down on the bed and call to his back, “I’m making sure I get two orgasms before you even get one.”

“Fine by me,” Mat calls back, hands working through his hair. “I like the way you scream my name when you’re coming on my cock.”

Your entire body flushes with heat and you press your thighs together. “Damnit,” you mutter, knowing you need to start getting ready and you definitely don’t have time for even a halfway satisfying orgasm. “For that,” you call, starting to roll off the bed so you can do your hair and makeup, “I get three orgasms before you get one.”

“You’re being so mean to your All-Star,” Mat teases, shrugging into his button down and starting to do up the buttons. You plug in your curling iron and roll your eyes at him.

“Should’ve known all the attention would go to your head,” you sigh, pretending to be burdened by him. “I’m your All-Star, Mr. Barzal, and don’t you forget it.”

His answering grin crinkles his entire face and you go to him easily when he reaches out to grab your wrist and tug you into his chest. “That’s why I’m letting you have your orgasms before I get mine,” he says cheekily, pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek and disappearing to the other side of the room for his shoes.

You huff a little, a small smile playing on your lips, and return to fixing your hair. Mat finishes getting ready, lacing up his dress shoes and pulling on his suit jacket before throwing his arms out to his sides and doing a little half-turn, asking, “so, how do I look?”

“Like my All-Star,” you beam at him, tilting your head up for a kiss. He obliges. “I like this suit a lot,” you continue, reaching for your purse and withdrawing a Sharpie. You hold it up in between your bodies and tuck it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Just in case.”

Mat pats his hand over the pocket and kisses your forehead. “Thanks, Squeaks. Text me when you get to the arena, okay? I’ll see you after the draft.”

You nod and with one final kiss, Mat’s out the door, leaving you with some peace and quiet to get ready. You do wish that Bo or Noah had been voted in too, so you’d at least have Holly or Alexa to hang out with while you’re watching the events. Mat’s parents and Liana are getting into town tomorrow afternoon, with enough time to join you for the Skills Competition, but until then, you’re on your own.

Luckily, you run into Steph Marner outside of the arena, saving you from the awkward first day of a new school feeling where you’ll either have to sit alone or find someone you know in the arena. You know Steph a little bit from different events and you’re friendly enough, it’s not the same as having one of your girls with you, but she’s a familiar face.

“Hey, girl!” Steph greets you with a hug that you return. “Welcome to the six!”

“I really wish you were welcoming me to the Bahamas,” you laugh, falling into step next to her. The crowds are wild and you look around as you walk in, having never been to an All-Star game before this is so much fun.

She lets loose a laugh, “you and me both! It would’ve been nice to get out of the city for a bit, but what can you do?” She shrugs and you fall into small talk for a little bit, catching up on what’s been happening since you last saw each other.

By the time the draft starts, you’re pleasantly tipsy and getting into the fun. The guys are all sitting on little benches on the ice and it’s adorable watching them swing their legs like toddlers. You snap a few photos of Mat from your spot in the stands, knowing the professional photos you’ll get from the team’s social media team later will be better. The draft starts and you wait impatiently for Mat to be picked.

By the time the fourth round ends and he hasn’t been picked, you’re starting to get cranky on his behalf. And slightly anxious that he’ll be picked last, even though you know logically that won’t happen. On the ice, he keeps swinging his legs, fidgeting in place until finally Mo and Auston pick him to join Team Bieber, along with half the Maple Leafs - Mitch Marner and William Nylander included.

Steph slaps your hand in a high-five, “woohoo! Teammates!”

You laugh and cheer along with her, snapping a picture of Mat getting a hug from Justin Bieber. You immediately send it off to your group chat, adding the message: pretty sure he’s going to leave me for the biebs 😭

The girls flood the chat, but you’re too busy laughing with Steph about Mat and Mitch’s chatter on the Team Bieber bench.

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “Mat’s such a yapper. He must be talking Mitch’s ear off.”

“Please,” Steph waves her hand in the air. “Mitch can’t shut up either. They probably aren’t even listening to each other.”

As the draft continues, you tune out a little since Mat’s been picked. Eventually, you tune back in and your gaze lands on your boyfriend manspreading to an extreme degree. Muffling a laugh with your hand, you shoot him a text, knowing he won’t see it until later: spread your legs a little wider, babe, i want to feel the stretch when i straddle you 👀

The draft comes to an end and it’s a little bit of a whirlwind after that, chatting with people you haven’t seen in a bit and wandering the arena until you find Mat. Or he finds you, actually.

“Team Bieber!” He crows, barely hiding his excitement now that it’s just you in front of him.

You grin at him, squeaked laughter pushed from your lungs when he crushes you to his chest in a hug. “Happy for you, Mat!”

“Babe,” he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear, “this is gonna be so fucking fun. He hugged me!”

“You are the biggest fangirl I’ve ever seen,” you tease, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. “It’s adorable.”

“I know you’re making fun of me right now,” he says, “but I don’t even care. We’ve got a Bieber concert to get to.”

You shake your head and let yourself be dragged along to the concert, knowing that Mat’s going to have the time of his life listening to one of his favorite artists perform live and that you’re going to get so many videos of him singing along that will immediately be sent to Beau for blackmail material.

The concert is actually beyond fun, and by the time you get back to the hotel, Mat’s completely forgotten about his earlier determination to be a pillow princess and has you out of your sweater and jeans before you really process what’s happening. His mouth and fingers work you up to two hard and fast orgasms, leaving you sweaty and breathless in the middle of the bed.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing them, bending your knees to draw his cock closer to your cunt. You clit throbs and the condom-wrapped head of Mat’s cock bumps against it, making you see stars.

“One more each, okay?” Mat mutters, pushing into you slowly. You whine and clench around him, scraping your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting, but doesn’t stop until he’s seated fully inside your pussy, breathing hard. Sweat rolls down his temples, dampening his hair.

You barely last a few minutes, overly sensitive from the last two orgasms, and you come before Mat, stroking your hands over every inch of him you can reach while he pumps his hips into yours. He grunts into your neck when he comes, filling the condom and nearly crushing you with the heavy weight of his body on top of yours. The air is pushed from your lungs, Mat’s sweaty chest pressed against yours.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your hair, “that felt good. You feel good. Could stay here forever.”

You kiss his shoulder. “I’d make some kind of innuendo about being an all star, but I think my brain is melted,” you say honestly, still wrapped around Mat like an octopus and making no effort to move.

——-

Mat’s Friday is quiet, other than an early afternoon practice for the Saturday game and the Skills Competition at night, so you have a lazy morning with him in bed. Neither of you bothered with clothes the night before, so it’s easy to get your hands on him and harder to get his hands off of you. You slip under the covers and wake him up with your mouth on his cock, sucking him off until he comes in your mouth. After he returns the favror with a slow, lingering orgasm, you shower and decide to head off to explore downtown Toronto for a bit before Mat goes to practice and you head off to the airport in the rental car to pick up Mat’s parents and sister.

“Thank god you’re here,” you give Liana a huge hug after helping everyone load their bags into the trunk. “It’s so hard being the only one around to chirp Mat to his face.”

“Please tell me you have video of the Bieber of it all,” she grins at you, a little evilly. You nod and she she pumps her fist. Nadia shakes her head.

“Don’t be mean to your brother this weekend,” she turns around in the passenger seat to face you both. Michael had insisted on driving back into the city and you weren’t about to argue - Toronto traffic rivaled New York traffic.

Liana rolls her eyes. “Mom, he needs some humbling,” she replies. “It’s good for his character

growth.”

You hide a giggle behind your hand. The Barzal sibling dynamic is one of your favorite things to witness. “I promise, Nadia,” you say, leaning forward a bit, “Mat gets so much praise. He does need a little humbling every once in a while.”

Once you’re back in the city, you drop the car and everyone’s bags off at the hotel and head over to meet Mat at the arena. He’s waiting for you all in the main lobby, looking fresh and clean and beyond adorable in his new All-Stars beanie. His smile is huge and only grows when he gives his parents hugs hello. He rubs the top of Liana’s head in a noogie that has her punching his arm, while they both laugh.

“Hi,” you smile up at him. You missed him even though it’s been less than two hours since you saw him.

“Hi,” Mat kisses you quickly before tugging the beanie off his head and unceremoniously dropping it on yours, tugging the cuff of it low over your forehead and smushing your hair. You wrinkle your nose at him and he raises an eyebrow. “It’s cold and you look cute in it.”

You lift your phone, the screen lighting up to display a handful of social media notifications and texts, “not as cute as you, according to the Twitter girlies. Apparently, you’re giving babygirl.” Your grin is shit-eating and Liana openly cracks up next to you, even as Michael and Nadia frown at each other, completely confused by the social media phrases.

Mat’s ears go pink and he nudges his hip against yours. “Shut up, let’s just go for lunch and not talk about that,” he rests his hand against your lower back and slings the other arm over Liana’s shoulder, guiding the both of you out of the arena.

“Oh no,” his sister says in a sugary-sweet tone, “we’re definitely talking about it. I have a few of my favorites bookmarked to mention…” She trails off, starting to scroll through her phone.

“Mom!” Mat whips his head around to look at Nadia. She plucks the phone from Liana’s hands and stashes it in her purse.

Michael, in order to cut off Liana’s complaint, jumps in, “Mat, tell us about Patrick Roy. How’s the change going?”

Luckily, the new coach is a topic Mat could happily chatter on about for hours, so he takes the bait and you end up having a fairly peaceful lunch before heading back to the hotel for a little relaxation before the Skills Competition. Liana comes to hang out with you and Mat, while Michael and Nadia get in a quick nap after their long flight. You put a movie on, but really the three of you end up gossiping and catching up, before Mat finally kicks you both out so he can get in a short nap too.

“Love you,” he kisses you before essentially pushing you out the door.

“Yeah, I really feel the love,” you roll your eyes, quickly pulling your coat back before Mat can close the door on it.

Liana smiles at you wryly. “I don’t know how you put up with him, but thank god for you. Let’s go get a coffee,” she says, linking arms with you as you stroll down to the elevators. You have the toque back on your head, adjusted so it’s not smashing your hair flat, and you can’t help but smile when you think about Mat putting it on your head in the first place.

“He’s surprisingly easy to love,” you laugh. “When he’s not being a drama queen.”

“Ugh,” Liana rolls her eyes affectionately, “you guys are disgusting.”

“Be nice or I’m going to decide to renovate the guest room during the week in April you’re coming to visit,” you joke.

——-

The arena is even louder and more chaotic during the Skills Competition and you’re having fun with Liana, taking pictures and getting snacks while you wait for everything to start.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, scrolling through Instagram before the events start. The reel the team’s socials have posted of Mat picking out his skate blades has your panties immediately damp and you’re ready to demand it get taken down for your own sanity. You shift in your seat, damp fabric scraping against your wet cunt.

Liana looks over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. “Oh gross,” she fakes a gagging noise. “He needs to put those away.”

“Or save them just for me,” you mumble, for her ears only. As much as you love Nadia and Michael, they don’t need to hear how horny you are for their son. Liana bumps your shoulder and your fingers slip over the screen.

“I’m gonna go blind, put that thirst trap away,” she frowns. “They’re going to start now.”

She’s right and Mat is the first one introduced on the ice. The four of you jump to your feet and scream for him, your heart pounding with excitement. Mat looks so stupidly happy to be on the ice, you can’t help but let out an extra loud wolf-whistle for him.

The Fastest Skater competition is up first and you won’t admit it, but you’re a little nervous for Mat to hold onto his title. You clench your hands together while William Nylander, Quinn Hughes, and Cale Makar go, crossing your fingers when their times are all over 14 seconds.

Mat’s fourth and you scream when he’s under 14 seconds, holding first until, of course, Connor McDavid unseats him. It’s annoying and a little frustrating, but you’re still beyond proud of Mat for being so close.

“Fuck that!” Liana grumbles, echoing your thoughts.

“He’s fastest skater in my heart,” you whisper back, purposely not telling her your plan to giving him a blow job at the end of the night.

One Timers is next. Honestly, you have no idea what the rules on this one are, but you just enjoy the show. Especially since Mat’s not that great in this competition in the end. You can see the scowl on his face and even Nadia laughs a little.

“He’s so hard on himself, even for fun events,” she shakes her head.

You can see him shake his head after his turn at the Passing Challenge, but honestly you’re really just focused on down damn good he looks with the backwards cap on his head. Watching Mat show off his skills is always your favorite thing. Mat takes third in this challenge and then talks to Kevin Weekes on ice and you record him while he talks, loving that crooked smile of his.

“I can’t believe he’s tied for first,” Liana shakes her head, filling in Michael and Nadia as they come back to the seats with drinks. “Think he’ll drop a couple thousand my way?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” you nudge her side. “Right after he funds my tropical vacation.”

During the musical break, you both get up to use the bathroom and stretch your legs. Your phone is vibrating with texts from the team and the girls, chirping Mat and making sure you know to pass on the messages.

Mat’s final event is Stick Handling and you keep your fingers crossed throughout the break - he’s in third overall and honestly you think he could pull off a win. Either way, you know you’re going to celebrate with him later.

“That’s my man!” You shout when Mat’s announced for second place. “Silkiest mits in the league!”

Liana and Nadia jump up to celebrate with you - Mat’s tied for first over all with one competition left.

He makes it to the next round and the three of you cheer, laughing and more than a little tipsy off of arena beers and cocktails. It’s so much more fun to cheer him on and celebrate Mat with his family.

“I always forget how good he is,” Nadia comments. “I know he’s good, but he’s having fun out there too.”

“No, he was literally off the wall excited to come back,” you tell her. “Being selected and then getting to replace Jack Hughes in the skills comp, on top of the new coach, Mat’s been in such a good mood lately.”

“He’s also whipped,” Liana teases you. You stick your tongue out at her.

“He just knows when he has to listen and turn off his hockey brain,” you shrug, talking over the music.

“Oh, Mat sucks at the shootout,” you groan, seeing what the One on One competition entails. “I just need him to not be last on this one.”

Mat picks Igor Shesterkin as his goalie and you watch him collect six points and sit in a tie for third. The New York rivalry runs strong and you can’t wait for the Stadium Series game in two weeks. You’re kind of treating the cold in Toronto as a preview of sitting out in the cold in New Jersey.

And with that, Mat’s onto the final round.

“One step closer to that cool million,” Liana grins. “You know how big of an engagement ring you could get with that…”

You choke on your sip of water and Michael claps you on the back while Nadia frowns at Liana. “No way I need or want something that big,” you manage to squeak out. “Not to be, like, basic, but I’d take a page out of Taylor Swift’s book and marry him with a paper ring.”

Your entire face feels like it’s burning red, talking about marrying Mat in front of his parents. You do, obviously, want to marry him, but it feels strange to say so in front of his parents when you’ve only met them a handful of times.

Liana’s shit-eating grin is identical to Mat’s. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says and when you try to say anything, she shushes you and points to the ice, where the obstacle course is starting.

“Oh, he’s locked in,” Liana says and you’re all leaning forward in your seats as Mat goes through the obstacles.

“Oh god,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands as Mat struggles with the little nets. Liana and Nadia wince at your sides. It’s like a train wreck, you can’t look away from his struggle. When they have to bring out more pucks for him, your heart sinks into your stomach.

Mat’s time in the end is awful, and you can see his disappointment on his face when he looks up at the jumbotron. He would’ve beaten McDavid if the nets hadn’t tripped him up.

“Ah, he did his best,” Michael says and you nod. It sucks that Mat didn’t place higher, but you’re so proud of him. Considering he wasn’t even chosen to be in the Skills Competition in the first place, the fact that he made it to the final round and nearly won is an incredible effort.

Mat texts you all in a group chat that you’d honestly forgotten existed, letting you know that he still has to shower and do some media availability, so he’ll meet you all back at the hotel.

Michael and Nadia decide to head to bed and you promise to let Mat know - you’ll all get together for breakfast before Mat goes to his morning skate before the game at 3. You and Liana hang out in the hotel bar until Mat joins you a little more than an hour later, spotting you immediately and wedging himself in the few inches of space left in the arm chair you’re sitting in. He squishes you to the side with his thighs, spreading them without concern. His arms wrap around your shoulders and he kisses the side of your head. “Hey, Squeaks,” he greets you, adjusting so one of your legs is draped over his and you’re as close as you could possibly be.

“Jesus,” Liana mutters. “Get a room.”

Mat squints at her, “I would love to.”

You nudge his side and murmur, “behave,” at him. All that does is encourage Mat to get in your face and kiss you hungrily. A surprised giggle is swallowed by Mat’s mouth and Liana’s disgusted scoff makes Mat smile against your lips.

“I’m going to bed,” she pushes up from her chair. “See you two in the morning. And wear a condom, I’m not ready to be an aunt.”

You and Mat choke simultaneously, Liana’s laughter echoing as she dances away. You drop your forehead to Mat’s shoulder and he shakes his head, “she really knows how to kill the mood.”

When you shift your leg though, you can feel the bulge of Mat’s cock against your thigh. “I don’t think she killed the mood that much,” you tease, curling closer to him. “Should we go upstairs and I can reward you for being the all-star of my heart?”

“Cheesy,” Mat accuses even as he’s pulling you to your feet and guiding you to the elevator bank. “I’m exhausted though, I didn’t realize how much work the obstacle course would be.”

“I’ll do all the work, don’t you worry,” you grin at him.

Less than ten minutes later you have him on his back, cunt clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck,” Mat groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Baby, god, fuck feels so good.”

You lean forward, bouncing over Mat’s cock, nails digging into his chest. “Wanted to do this all day,” you gasp. “All the posts, your fucking thighs, Mat! Been soaked for you.”

He laughs underneath you, sliding one hand to play with your clit. You whine and feel your arousal leak from your body, smearing all over Mat’s pelvis. “Thought about riding my thighs, baby?” He asks, gripping your hip even tighter and helping you bounce on him.

“Every fucking day,” you admit, choking on air when Mat bucks his hips up into yours, the head of his cock smacking against your g-spot. “All-Star Mat is my favorite Mat.”

His face is red from exertion, beads of sweat rolling down his temples, but even still you can tell that your praise is getting to him, flushing his chest pink and making his rhythm over your clit stutter. You grin wickedly down at him, knowing exactly how you want to play him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you murmur sincerely, grinding down on him. “Came in and killed it, made it look easy,” you hiccup on a particularly aggressive bounce, “so fucking handsome. My all-star. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Fuuuuck” Mat drags out the curse, bending his knees and planting his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into you roughly. “Jesus. Wanted to win ‘cause you were there.”

You whimper every time Mat’s cock hits your g-spot, nearly there, and praise him again, “always a winner. Always my winner. Love you so much.”

Mat’s cock thickens inside of you while you clench around him and you plant your hands on his stomach for leverage and to feel his muscles bunch up in the lead up to his orgasm. He groans and squeezes a handful of your ass, bucking up into you harshly. “Gonna - sorry, baby. Need to come,” he groans your name, filling the condom with a deep growl. You keep riding him through it, replacing his hand on your clit with yours so he can grip your hips and bounce you while he finishes.

“C’mon, fill me up,” you whine, chanting his name, rolling your fingers over your clit until you finish a few seconds after him, gushing around the base of his cock and his lower stomach. You slump over his chest and Mat grunts underneath you, smoothing his hands over your ass.

“God, that was fucking amazing,” he mutters into your hair, kissing your cheek. “Gotta be the all-star more often.”

You laugh and wiggle your ass over him, cunt clenching lazily around him. “I dunno, I was supposed to take care of you, but you took over there for a bit,” you mumble against his skin.

“Couldn’t help it,” he shrugs, “looked so fucking good with your tits bouncing, that gorgeous face you make when I hit as deep as possible.” He yawns a little, swallowing the last few words of his sentence.

“Shut up,” you laugh lightly, swatting at his chest while you roll off of him, sticky and sore. Mat moves to get up, but you push him back a little and wrap a hand around his hip. “I’ve got it.” You make quick work of the condom, tying a knot at the top and padding into the bathroom to get rid of it. You rinse off quickly and bring Mat back a damp washcloth to clean off his stomach, but by the time you get back into the bedroom, he’s got one arm tucked behind his head and he’s fast asleep, letting out gentle grumbling snores.

You laugh a little to yourself, shaking your head. Men.

Still, you wipe him off carefully - not that it matters, he doesn’t move at all - and climb into bed with him, after stealing a clean t-shirt from his suitcase.

Mat chokes a little on his snore and rolls over, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you close to his chest. His arm is a strong lock over your stomach and you shift, getting comfortable before falling asleep with the warm weight of Mat’s body at your back.

You wake up a little bit later, with one of Mat’s thighs wedged in between your legs, corded muscle pressed up against your cunt, making it throb. You grind experimentally over his leg and he grunts against your hair, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and making you shiver.

“Mat?” You whisper his name quietly and his arm tightens around your waist. You trace your fingertips over the veins on his hand.

His thigh flexes against you and you gasp, warmth pooling between your legs.

“Told you to use me,” Mat mumbles sleepily, kissing behind your ear. “Go ‘head.”

His hand is splayed flat over your stomach and he pushes gently, spurring you into movement. Your hips rock lazily over his thigh, the sleepy rhythm making it hard for you to hold onto the coil of pleasure. Mat rocks his half-hard cock into your backside and you sigh softly, heat building in your blood.

“Feels good,” he sighs, helping you move over him, eyes still shut. He hikes his thigh up higher, catching your clit on his leg hair and sensing a wave of pleasure through your body.

You whine his name, burying your fingers between your legs to help coax yourself to an orgasm. “Wanna feel you,” you whisper and Mat’s hand slips between your bodies, leaving your stomach cold, so he can roughly jerk his cock a few times, tugging until he’s harder.

He pulls you back by the hip, until his cock is nestled between your thighs and you angle back against him, slipping the head of him inside your entrance. A breathy sigh escapes your lungs and Mat rocks his hips so his cock thrusts in and out of your shallowly. Between his cock and your fingers, you’re falling over the cliff of pleasure within seconds, slick covering your thighs.

“Roll over,” you rasp, legs still trembling. You’re not about to go searching in the dark for a condom, so you settle yourself in between Mat’s powerful thighs and take him into your mouth, tasting yourself on him. Both of his hands land on your head, tangling in your hair and holding you in place while you lick at him, kissing the head of his cock and hollowing your cheeks around him until he’s coming in your mouth.

Mat groans, hips bucking up into your mouth, eyes screwed shut. “Babe, christ, love that fucking mouth,” he says hoarsely, hauling you up his body when you’re done so he can kiss you sleepily.

You’re exhausted and close your eyes again, lying over Mat’s chest, his arms wrapped around your back. “You make me so stupid,” you mumble against his collarbone, asleep before you know it.

——-

Saturday is the big game day and after your middle of the night sexcapades, you and Mat oversleep so he just barely has time for breakfast with everyone before he’s off to the arena for a little morning skate and a brief stint on NHL News.

You and the Barzals decide to take in a little bit of the Fan Fest before exploring downtown Toronto before the game starts. It’s fun to spend so much time with Mat’s family and you’re looking forward for them to coming to Long Island for Easter.

The games themselves are beyond fun to watch, since the guys are all taking it seriously while still having a good time.

When Mat and Team Bieber make it to the finals, you and Liana are beside yourselves, screaming with excitement.

“Mat willed them to a win so he can spend more time with Justin,” Liana laughs and you agree.

“Honestly, I’m not convinced he wouldn’t dump me for Justin,” you snort, snapping a picture of Mat on the ice.

Team Bieber/Matthews wins the whole thing and you know it’s just a silly fun weekend, but you can’t help be so incredibly proud of Mat and his performance all weekend. He’s been so light and happy all weekend and you know it was the break he needed to reset for the second half of the season.

After he finishes with post-game media availabilities - where he apparently mentions his future kids, much to Liana and Nadia’s delight and your slight panic, one day but definitely not any time soon - he comes and meets you all for dinner. Mat’s still buzzing from adrenaline and won’t shut up about Justin Bieber as a coach.

“He was just so invested,” he says. “Really wanted to win and knew what he was talking about.”

“Who’s a better coach,” you cut in slyly, “Justin Bieber or Patrick?”

He pins you with a wry look, as his parents laugh. “Squeaks, that’s just not fair.”

“It’s also not even a competition,” Michael points out. “I would think Patrick Roy has nothing on Justin Bieber’s enthusiasm.”

You recognize your boyfriend’s father’s sarcastic joke and giggle. Everyone knows about Patrick’s enthusiastic coaching style.

“I actually can’t wait to get back to it,” Mat says, swiping a bite of your steak off your plate. “I feel really good about the back half.”

Dinner continues comfortably for another few hours, Mat soaking up time with his family while he doesn’t have to worry about practice or a game tomorrow. Eventually, you all head back to your rooms - the Barzals are flying back to Vancouver tomorrow afternoon, while you and Mat get to enjoy the day together before the team flies in before the game.

“Oh, hey, check this out,” Mat’s nearly bouncing when you get back to your hotel room, directing your attention to a huge gift bag sitting on the bed.

You raise an eyebrow, “all star game swag?”

“Even better,” Mat’s eyes are wide. “Justin gave us all some stuff from his line.”

Muffling a giggle with your hand, you poke at the gift bag. “Justin? Your new best friend?” You ask, dryly, spotting a grey hoodie at the top of the pile.

Mat nudges you with his knuckles. “Just for that, I’m not sharing my new gear,” he informs you, pulling each item out of the bag. He’s like a kid on Christmas, giddy with each piece of merch and relaying more stories about Justin behind the bench, like you haven’t heard them all already.

You indulge him, getting ready for bed as he talks, giving him a soft, affectionate smile when he finally pauses his yapping. “You are such a dork,” you murmur, squishing his cheeks between your palms and planting a quick kiss on her pursed lips. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute.”

——

Sunday is quiet, festivities over. Mat immediately pulls on his new Drew hoodie and you snag the sweats, going for comfort over fashion for your day.

“Steal that sweatshirt and send it to me,” Liana says, hugging you goodbye.

“Over my dead body,” Mat shakes his head at her. “Buy your own.”

You sling an arm around Mat’s waist and lean into him. “Oh, calm down. No one’s stealing the gifts your boyfriend gave you,” you wrinkle your nose at him in a crinkly-eyed smile.

He snaps at the waist band of your pilfered sweats and gives you a stink eye. You laugh, “I live with you! They’re going back to our shared dresser.”

“In my drawer,” Mat says and you nod, indulging him. You both know that you’re keeping the sweats.

Once Mat’s parents and Liana are off to the airport, the rest of the day is chill. You’re soaking up the time with Mat before he goes back into the grind for the back half of the season.

“Hey,” you say at dinner later, nudging his foot with yours under the table.

Mat looks up from the menu, hair a little messy, eyes still bright from the excitement of the weekend.

“I just…I’m really proud of you,” you manage to say around the little ball of emotion in your throat. You reach across the table and lace your fingers with his and Mat squeezes them gently. “This has been the best weekend and I hope you get to bring this excitement to the back half of the season.”

His grins at you, that crooked smile of his that you love so much, and says, “having you here was the second best part of the weekend.”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “becoming besties with Justin was the best part?”

He nods, eyes twinkling, “yep.”

“I hate you,” you snort a laugh, smiling despite yourself.

“It’s a really close second though,” Mat assures you.

With a faint sigh, you shake your head, “I see where I stand. Maybe I’ll just have to cheer for the Leafs tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mat rushes to say and you kick his shin lightly.

“Of course not,” you scoff. “What kind of Long Islander would I be, rooting for the enemy?”

Mat pinches your palm, “a terrible one and an awful girlfriend too.”

You hum and say nonchalantly, “you’d think two blowjobs in a weekend, plus riding you, would cement me as best girlfriend ever.”

“Make it three and I’ll marry you right now,” Mat jokes, surprising a laugh out of your chest. Your heart skips a beat in your chest at the mention of marrying Mat, even as a little joke. You want to be his forever.

“You know,” you say, voice shaking just slightly, “marriage is all about give and take.”

Mat bumps his knee against yours, grinning wickedly. “Baby, if you wanted an orgasm, all you had to do was ask,” he says, voice low so he won’t be heard in the restaurant.

Your entire body heats with lust and you brush your fingers over your lips, hiding the involuntary little smile Mat’s words elicit. “Oh,” your voice is breathless, “well, if that’s all it takes.”

“You going to ask for what you want?” Mat asks, running his thumb over the backs of your knuckles.

Leaning forward, you hum, catching the faint hint of Mat’s cologne and the hotel shampoo. You wet your lower lip and watch as Mat’s gaze tracks the tiny movement of your tongue. Quietly, you murmur just for Mat’s ears, “I want some all-star orgasms before I become a hockey widow again.”

Mat chuckles and leans forward too so he can give you a quick kiss. “I think I can make that happen,” he replies easily, leaning back in his seat. You can see from the way his body shifts that he’s spreading his legs again. You shift in your seat, feeling hot. He smirks a little at you, clearly seeing the way your body reacts to him.

Fuck, it may be a three blowjob weekend after all.

[elvisabutler]

down home southern cookin'

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( fameless big daddy electrician/handyman ) x female original character word count: 3069 warnings: housewife kink. big daddy elvis. pregnant sex. minor pregnancy kink and breastfeeding kink. sex around food ( the food isn't harmed ). p in v sex ( unprotected ). minor praise kink. talk of sweat. bags thumping on floors making you feel things. author’s note: welcome to day 14 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, breastfeeding kink with spark elvis and lilly. so, hi. i've been having a rough go around on actually finishing the main fic but i have made a bit more progress after moving past the block i've had formed for a while. that being said, enjoy this little one shot in the meantime. also if you have no idea what this series/verse is, the masterlist is right here. in addition, i truly do thrive on your comments and messages and love reading them.

"Is that meatloaf 'm smellin' darlin'?"

Lilly hears the door open before she ever hears Elvis's voice but at the sound of his voice, she can feel their children inside her move about, kicking and trying to roll around. It's been getting harder and harder to bend to reach the oven but she manages well enough, free hand on her belly as she opens the oven.

Elvis's thudding steps tell Lilly that he's heading to the kitchen to investigate not entirely unlike a bloodhound and she smiles softly to herself even as the twin she has taken to calling Gladys kicks her square in the rib. Her hand rubs at the spot as she stays bent over looking into the oven when she hears Elvis's whistle, low and appreciative.

"Wasn't expectin' that sorta greetin'. Ain't complainin', though." His voice is pitched low as she hears his bag thump on the floor. The thought of moving to a standing position enters Lilly's mind and yet she's just that slight bit curious as to what Elvis plans on doing.

After all, wasn't the proof of his appreciation for her backside growing healthy and strong within her? Wasn't his appreciation for a warm meal evident by the way so many of her dresses are slightly ruined? Wasn't he her husband not just in theory but in name?

It doesn't take long for her to feel the press of his front against her behind, the warmth of his body seeping through her dress. His hand moves to cup her stomach as he guides her into a standing position, nipping at her ear as she does. "They givin' ya trouble? Gotta get a lecture from Daddy?"

Lilly's laughter is always music to Elvis's ears and today is no exception. His lips curl into a soft smile as he kisses down her neck, hands wandering across her body. She makes no move to remove them. "They only started giving me trouble when they heard you."

"That so?" Elvis hums as one of his hands settles on her breast, squeezing it just light enough that Lilly's mouth falls open in a gasp. "They just missed their daddy as much as their mama did, didn't they? Jus' wanted to say hello."

He's not wrong, Lilly reasons. Jesse is the same way, trying to come crawling at the sound of his Daddy's voice as soon as he hears it if Elvis doesn't beat the boy to it. Still, there's nothing that says she has to boost her husband's ego any more than it already is tonight. It makes it easy to just hum quietly with a small grin on her face.

"They missed daddy, I don't know if mama did." Lilly teases even as she feels Elvis's hand tighten on her breast and feels the hand that had been cupping her lower stomach move ever so slightly lower. "I had the best company all day."

A huff of his warm breath tickles the hair on the back of her neck as he starts to use his hand to pull up her dress. "Jesse asleep?"

He knows it's too early for Jesse to be asleep, knows that Lilly keeps his son up just so that he can give him a kiss goodnight and help get him ready for bed even if he ran late arriving home. Yet, he feels the need to ask, to make sure Jesse isn't crawling around underfoot in a way that gets him into trouble. Elvis knows he should be a good husband and take a shower and make it so Lilly can rest her aching little sooties. Even with them not in heels he can see them a little swollen and he's sure if he touched them they'd be pounding. Elvis knows he should be a good husband like he always is and yet he can feel his cock swelling up in his jumpsuit. Seeing Lilly- seeing his *wife* bent over making food for him all while so *full* of him does something to him. It'd do something to any man worth his salt. Maybe he'd ask Charlie or Jerry how they feel about their wives when they've been pregnant. Though, Jerry's answer is damn nearly explained with his new niece or nephew Melly's got growing inside of her.

His cock had gotten them into this mess, first with her and him against the sink and even know their twins were merely the result of his cock seeing her backside as she bathed Jesse. If he were a different man, if he were the man he was almost two years ago he'd be embarrassed, mortified that his cock's acting like it's attached to a twenty year old. And yet, right now all he can think about is how thankful he is for it. Thankful it's proven its worth to satisfy Lilly in ways he knows now she had craved during her previous marriage. Thankful it's proven its worth by providing him with a healthy gift from God of a son and hopefully healthy strong little ones in a couple of months.

"You know he's awake," Lilly murmurs, moving closer to the sink for some leverage to lean on. "Wouldn't dream of putting our baby boy to sleep without letting him say goodnight to his Daddy." She pauses and leans back against Elvis, his body heat seeping through his jumpsuit and her dress. She can feel the sweat of the day on his skin and it should be nauseating and off putting but as she inhales deeply she merely smells the unique scent of her husband. A shiver passes through her. "What are you really trying to ask, Elvis?"

An idea of what he wants is on the tip of her tongue but she doesn't want to be too forward even after a child was born that was conceived in the strangest of ways or after he pleasured her with a garden hose. No, somehow asking him point blank if he was trying to enjoy what was between her legs was too much.

"If you'd let me- If ya'd mind bendin' over again. Or if ya'd mind if I put ya between the sink and me. Mindin' the yittle ones, course."

Lilly wonders if the way Elvis talks to her and the way Elvis seems to be completely and utterly in love with every part of her is ever going to get old. If it'll ever stop making her heart race and ever stop making her lose her breath. Maybe it's just because she had gotten so used to things with Nathan that it's still novel. The twins inside her do their own separate flips as she licks her lips.

"Minding them, of course." Her voice sounds airy, like it's floating into the air as she tries to remember how to breathe. "Facing you, right?"

Not looking out the window, pleasure crossing her face at every moment as she leaned against him, her legs too shaky to support the weight of her body. Not facing the window, watching the sun go down on another day, wishing this could be her afternoons forever more. No, she'd be able to face Elvis, see his face as it scrunched up when he grunted inside of her. She'd be able to see how he works up such a sweat that it drips down on her as they fuck. It's not that she hasn't since they've been married but this is another thing entirely. This is being able to see how Elvis's face looked like when he pleasured her against the sink almost two years ago. This is a reward for a hard day's work as she cooks their little buns inside of her and cooks a hearty filling meal for him.

His hands finally reach the destination he wants them to, her underwear. A hand slides against her clothed entrance, chuckling at how drenched has already made her. The pregnancy had heightened so many things and yet somehow she surprises him even with this. With a vagina that aches and yearns for him so much it cries out every second it's not filled. He finally speaks.

"Facin' me," his voice is a murmur and a growl as he shifts her underwear to the side just enough to slide his fingers where he knows she wants them. "Maybe I'll even lift ya up on the counter."

Lilly shakes her head, not trusting her mouth's ability to form words. Another time, she figures, when she wasn't carrying these precious little buns inside her. No, she wants to be pinned just as she was that first afternoon. Her hand reaches out to grab at Elvis's wrist, her hand trailing over her swollen stomach, an action watched with rapt attention by Elvis. A quiet but noticeable squelch is heard as he pulls his fingers from her. He opens up his mouth to speak only to watch as he realized something shifted inside of Lilly when she heard that squelch of his fingers. The look she has on her face is one he's gotten to know well both through her pregnancy with Jesse and now her pregnancy with the twins. She wants him and every second that she don't have him she'll get more and more frustrated. His hands move to undo and start to unzip his jumpsuit only to have her swat them away. Lilly's hand are deft little things, suited for sewing and domestic tasks even he struggles with despite his ample skills.

The rush of the cold air against his sweaty chest has him inhaling and has his overheated body shivering just a hair. Lilly's eyes watch the action and take it to mean that she needs to hurry, needs to reach down low enough to free his already swollen cock from the confines of his underwear. Elvis opens up his mouth to speak only to have Lilly's hand finally pull his zipper down low enough to yank down his underwear, his cock bobbing out of them not entirely unlike a goddamn Jack in the Box. Lilly isn't forceful except for these times when she's needy and he's already promised to give her what she needs. How's a man supposed to talk when he sees her hand around his cock, slathering the ample precum across his length.

"Just against it, Elvis. Please," Lily begs ever so softly, though she knows she doesn't need to. Any request she makes of Elvis he does and this would be no exception. She watches as he looks down at her with such a rush of love and clenches her thighs. Her nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and she whimpers at the mere feeling of his hand against her hip as he walks her back against the sink. She needs and wants every bit of him and he's determined to give it to her.

In bed, he would take his time undressing her, watching her dress fall to the floor and watching her ample milk filled breasts spill from her bra. He would suckle at her nipples until he saw her chest heave and her body shake with release. But right now? Right now against the sink he doesn't bother to even pull down her underwear. He should, and yet he can feel how aroused she is and just how she is craving him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's reminded this isn't proper, that she should insist he take his time and undress her and yet that voice is smothered by realizing no part of their relationship would be considered proper to her two years ago.

His actions make her happy so why should there be any shame attached to them. Her thoughts swirl in her mind with such force that she is caught off guard by Elvis removing her hand and entering her with very little preparation. A choked off sob of pleasure leaves her mouth as she looks up at him.

"Elvis," she whispers, her hands finding purchase on his chest and down his stomach. The hair on his body that rubs up against her skin every time they make love feels different in her hands in this moment, somehow softer while being just a little bit rougher. One of her hands plays with his chest, laughing breathlessly as one of his hands mirrors her, cupping her breast. "You can go— oh."

Elvis knows Lilly like he knows the back of his hand, he figures. Knows what makes his wife turn to pure putty in hands and knows how to have her pleasured in every way she had always deserved to be pleasured. It's easy to figure out just by watching her face and watching how it shifts when he thrusts just right and cups her breasts just right. "I can what, darlin'? Ya want it faster? Want your husband to move faster? Make it so ya comin' faster than anythin'?"

Lilly's eyes drift to the stove for a moment and then to the clock. She should tell him she wants him to take his time. That she wants to feel every thrust and feel his foreskin as it drags inside of her despite how aroused she is. She knows she doesn't have enough time though, knows that in about ten minutes she has to pull the meatloaf from the oven. Her vagina clenches and earns a slight curse from Elvis as he kisses her softly, waiting for an answer.

"We— the meatloaf. I don't want it to burn." As if she needs to explain why she needs him to go faster. "Tonight—If we can it can be slower."

Her skin is flushed and Elvis just takes a moment in between thrusts to marvel at the way it starts at her cheeks and how there's small splotches of it heading down to her chest. He's done that to her, not just the embarrassment she still holds on to about asking just what she would like him to do to her. His perfect wife, his lil darlin' is worried about meatloaf and can't always put into words what she desires. How had he gotten so lucky? How had God saw fit to put the nearest earthly thing to perfection in front of him? How had he found himself married with a son and young ones on the way to this woman?

"Even if 'm not. Ya— ya always know ya can get my engine revving," Elvis's voice is a murmur against Lilly's neck as he kisses and nips at it, his hips quickening their pace. "How long we got, Lil?"

"Nine," she answers, trying to buck against Elvis as best she can with her stomach and his own in the way. "I'll— I've been wanting—"

The words she wants to say are left in her head as his hand drifts down her chest and down her swollen belly to between her legs. Another time and another place she'd question what he's doing but she knows where his hand is headed. She knows before she feels the press of the calloused pads of his fingertips against her throbbing clit. It's been like that nearly all day and she knows better than to take care of it herself on days like this. Knows that what she needs is the warmth of his hands and the roughness of them to bring her to completion. So lost in her own pleasure she nearly misses the words leaving Elvis's lips.

"My perfect wife. My perfect lil darlin'. Takin' care of our yittle one and growing the other yittle buns. Could be like some of the other women and relax, sh—should be like 'em but here you are makin' me dinner and keepin' everythin' as it should be. Gonna show ya how much I love ya for this. How thankful I am for ya."

He pants it against her skin, one hand gripping at her hip while the other works against her clit as she's pinned against the skin. It should hurt, the way the counter digs into her back just a bit but any pain she feels is overtaken by the throbbing between her legs and the scrape of her nipples against her bra. Everything feels so warm and safe and loving that she feels herself starting to reach a crescendo, clawing at his chest before her hands slide to his lower back and down to his behind, pulling him somehow impossibly closer. An almost inhuman noise leaves his lips, a howl and a growl and a groan all mixed into one as he feels her clenching around him.

"That's it, Lilly. That's it my lil darlin'. God— Like a vice—" His words are lost in a haze of her orgasm and his own following closely after. Somehow both of their grips on each other get tighter as they try to catch their breath. Elvis makes sure to not lean too hard on Lilly, careful to protect their children inside of her. Time doesn't have a meaning for either of them until the shrill ring of a timer sounds signalling the fact that the meatloaf is finished.

"I— I need to get that, Elvis." Lilly whispers, still trying to remember how to breathe and walk properly. His only answer is a slow nod as he steps away. It's easy for him to watch Lilly's hips move as she walks the short distance between the sink and oven. A part of him thinks he should turn away when she starts to bend over but then he thinks of how she's leaking his release standing there and how she still likely has to finish one thing or another on the stove. He licks his lips and with a speed that surprises even him, he finds himself on his knees in front of her once she's pulled the meatloaf from the oven and set it down.

"Elvis, what are you— what are you doing?" Her voice is light and her eyes sparkle in a way they only do when she's amused at him and his antics.

In lieu of answering, his large hands grab at the edges of her dress and start to pull it up and up and up until her underwear is exposed to him. It's then and only then that he answers her, looking up through his eyelashes with a practically devilish smirk. "Felt like havin' dessert while you're doin' your work."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @be-my-ally,  @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @marriedtopresley, @memphis-menace, @steph-speaks, @doll-elvis, @vintageshanny, @j-v-9-2, @sexystarfish, @jessicarcates, @chirssycrumble9456789, @shantellescrivener, @yomammalolha, @honey6578, @urmom11111111111119, @myradiaz, @elvispresleyxoxo, @joegramoe, @rainblue-art, @fav-fanficssss, @misspresley, @fallinlovewithurlove, @ash-omalley, @yynneessmons if you're missing from this list, you either changed your username or tumblr is tumblr.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? Chapter One

First DBDA multichapter, yay! let's hope I finish it 😅 Nah should be fine, I already know exactly what happens, just gotta get it on the page! The ending will be happy, but there WILL be angst along the way, please heed the tags/warnings!

WARNINGS: This fic references or directly addresses traumas from the characters' pasts. So that's of course bullying, abuse, homophobia, hate crimes, death etc. There's also a very, very brief reference to a possibly creepy teacher eyeing up Edwin (more on that in the end notes), but nothing comes of it, it's just part of the tapestry of his shitty school experiences. Death, loneliness, abandonment, touch starvation, along with morbid things like burials and bodies and bones are core themes of this fic. The ending will be happy eventually but we WILL have a sad ride to get there. So please be aware of that before reading.

I'd like to shout out my bestie kieren-fucking-walker/electricteatime for the absolutely banger headcanon about Charles sometimes manifesting his trauma by getting really cold/his breath misting. It's such a visually cool and emotionally rich idea and the show SHOULD have done it. Chapter one is 6.6k. Chapters 2/3 coming soon (hopefully). Also on Ao3 (need to be signed in to read)

~

“I don’t like this, mate,” Charles muttered.

“No,” Edwin agreed, gravely. “Nor do I.”

Frankly, taking this case was probably an unwise decision. The meagre payment offered by the sickly-looking ghost of the old groundskeeper would fall far, far short of the emotional cost of the expedition. And yet when Edwin had looked over to Charles and met his eyes, there had been no doubt, no hesitation. Perhaps it was the notion of unfinished business; that mysterious force that compelled ghosts to sites of personal trauma as sirens compelled sailors to the unforgiving rocks. Perhaps they were both mere gluttons for punishment.

Either way, they were here now. It was with heavy hearts and wary eyes that on the evening of June twenty-sixth, Edwin and Charles – along with Crystal – set foot once more on the grounds of St. Hilarion's School for Boys.

"So what are we looking for, exactly?" asked Crystal, ever practical. She'd been inordinately serious today, clear-headed and straightforward. Taking pains to rein in her more combustible tendencies. She'd also been casting worried glances at him and Charles all day. Edwin was trying to take the gesture in the spirit in which it was intended. Even if it did make him feel like a mad old maid, half-expected to succumb to hysterics at the drop of a hat.

"We've no way to know for sure," said Edwin. His eyes flickered to the imposing main doors, then upwards, scanning each storey window by window. It was well past lights out, but a single lamp glowed through from the third floor, east wing. The dorms. Most likely the night steward, on the listen for boys up and about and causing mischief. In Edwin's short and tragic experience, such staff were not the most effective of deterrents. Still, best avoided. They didn't want to call attention to themselves.

He flipped to his notes from their client interview. "The groundskeeper reported a low, continuous droning sound, along with unease, malaise, and a sense of being... 'called' to."

"Any words? Phrases?" asked Charles. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet like a boxer. His tension was audible as well as visible – Edwin could hear the subtle clenching of his jaw where it clipped his words. "No spooky voices whispering 'come to the cellar?'"

"No, nothing so helpful as that, I'm afraid."

"So what's the plan?"

"We begin searching for causes or disturbances in a methodical fashion," said Edwin, putting his notebook away. "I suggest we leave bedrooms and dormitories for last, to minimise the risk of interruptions. Crystal, you'd best wait outside until we call you. If anyone wakes you're more likely to be seen; not to mention liable to stand out. This is a boys' school, after all."

Crystal looked unhappy about it, but for once didn't rush to argue his logic. "I don't know. Are you guys gonna be... you know...?"

"We'll be fine, Crys," said Charles, giving her a strained smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Got each other, don't we?"

"Yeah – in the place you both got killed," she said. "You really shouldn't be back here."

Edwin rather agreed with her. And yet, undeniably, he still felt that strange, morbid draw that had coaxed him into accepting the case. There was a mystery afoot, and he and Charles would answer the call. "We'll be quite alright, I'm sure. With any luck, this will be a flying visit. Back in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Charles, have you the torches?"

"Yeah, just a tick." Charles crouched down and riffled through his backpack, disappearing up to the shoulder in its daunting expanse. "Better be careful with them, eh? Try not to flash 'em about too much, make anyone come looking."

"Agreed. For empty rooms only – we'll switch them off at the first sign of footsteps."

"Here we go." Charles handed the two stout electric torches up to Edwin. "Oh! Got something else, too." He dove back in, and re-emerged holding three black plastic blocks. He passed one each to Edwin and Crystal with a grin. "So we can stay in touch with Crystal – and each other, 'case we get split up."

Edwin sincerely hoped such a thing wouldn't come to pass. But he inspected the device with curiosity, its buttons and mesh panel and its little protruding antenna. "Oh. This is one of those... portable radio contraptions."

"Walkie talkies," Charles corrected. He held down the yellow button on his device and a babble of static erupted from the speaker. "Hold the button to talk, yeah?" His voice rattled out through Edwin and Crystal's handsets.

"We gotta get you guys cellphones," Crystal muttered.

"Excellent idea, Charles," said Edwin, ignoring her comment. "But I'd advise against using these except in cases of emergency. The noise could alert people to our presence."

Charles gave a lax salute, and tucked his handset into his coat.

"I really don't like you guys going in there alone," said Crystal, crossing her arms.

"I know," said Charles. "But you get it, yeah?"

A moment of tense silence passed between the three of them; the school looming at their back like a slumbering monster. Inside that building lay several dorms full of teenage boys. Different boys than from Charles and Edwin's times, but alike in breeding, in privilege and temperament. Those boys had tormented Edwin for his mannerisms, and beaten Charles to death for daring to do the right thing – undoubtedly, his parentage had also factored into their violent recourse.

None of them stated their precise fears out loud. The fear of what could transpire if a lone, dark-skinned teenage girl were to find herself in the belly of this particular beast in the dead of night. Even one with considerable psychic powers and two ghost bodyguards at her disposal. No one said a word, but the possibilities hung over their heads like a dark cloud nonetheless.

Perhaps it was an ungenerous thought, to imagine a school full of modern boys could devolve so abruptly into The Lord of the Flies. But Edwin wasn't prepared to roll those dice with his friend's safety. Against his own better judgement, he'd grown... fond of Crystal Palace. He shouldn't like to see her hurt, or killed. In fact, at the risk of sounding overly sentimental, he'd be most perturbed by such a thing.

Crystal sighed. "Yeah. Fine. I get it. Just..." She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around Charles, tightly. "Be careful. Okay?"

"I'm always careful!" he lied, a smile in his voice. It didn't match his face which, thankfully, was hidden from her view in her hair. But Edwin could see it; Charles' careful mask, knocked askew.

He averted his eyes.

Crystal snorted. "Great. Thanks. Makes me feel way better." She broke away from Charles and looked at Edwin, who took a reflexive step back. "I know, I know – no hugs," she said with a roll of her eyes. She compromised by giving his upper arm a firm squeeze instead. "Don't die. Again."

"We'll do our level best," said Edwin, patting the back of her hand briskly. "Now, we really must away – while we have the night on our side."

"There's some pretty dense trees off that way," said Crystal, gesturing. "I'm gonna wait there, should be easy to stay out of sight – hopefully it's close enough to stay in walkie range."

Charles stiffened. "The trees... near the lake?"

"Uh. Yeah, why?"

Edwin watched him closely.

Charles shook his head. "Nah, don't matter. Just – stay safe, yeah?"

"You too." She looked between them. "Hey... look after each other. Okay?"

Charles glanced at Edwin, and his posture softened. "Yeah," he said, with the shadow of a gentle smile. "Always do."

That assurance, at least, was not a lie.

~

"Charles, we're wasting time," Edwin hissed. Honestly – five minutes into their investigation and they hadn't even made it inside the building, yet! "We can simply walk through this door and bypass the lock altogether."

Charles didn't spare him a glance, preoccupied as he was squatting on the doorstep with his lockpicks across his knee. He'd been faffing with the old iron lock on the main doors to no avail for some time. "Yeah, but what if we've gotta call Crystal in to help us out right quick? Dunno if her psychic powers stretch to door hypnotism." He tossed Edwin a cheeky grin. "Only polite to open doors for ladies, innit?"

Edwin, unable to argue the logic or the etiquette, settled for squeezing his fists together and lurking discontentedly. So far he'd not heard the droning the groundskeeper had spoken of, nor felt any ominous supernatural feelings. At least, he assumed he hadn't. But it was a mite hard to focus on anything besides his own anxiety at being back in this place after so many years. Hard to differentiate between personal discomfort and something more sinister.

The lock gave a promising click, and Charles grinned. "Abracadabra."

Edwin stopped his hand when it went to turn the handle. "Best not. We mustn’t announce ourselves."

"Yeah. Yeah, good point." Charles straightened up, tucking his lockpicks away. "So. Hop right on through, then?"

"Indeed."

Charles' jaw gave a nervous tic. "...On three?"

"...Yes. yes, on three." Edwin braced himself. "One..."

"Two..." said Charles, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Three!"

Their voices joined on the final count; and together they stepped through the ancient, unyielding oak, and into the hall within.

"Oh," Edwin exhaled, taking in the great hall with darting eyes.

"Huh," said Charles, squinting. "Thought it would look... different."

"You took the words right out of my mouth."

The entry hall had changed very little from Edwin's day – and by extension Charles'. Evidently, money and care had been put into the upkeep of the place; Edwin had spotted a plaque on the outside labelling it a registered building. Biggest change to speak of was the burgundy carpet now covering the floor; to protect the old boards from the footfall of thundering teenage boys, no doubt. Other changes were limited to minor modern conveniences. A plastic hand sanitiser dispenser beside the door. A corkboard papered over with glossy flyers for local sports and after school clubs. They surely must have updated the lighting, as well, but he and Charles weren't to benefit at this time for obvious reasons.

The familiarity was unsettling, to say the least. Like stepping back through the decades, into a time he'd gladly leave behind for good. Edwin cleared his throat, and straightened his jacket. "Well. I suppose we must set to. We're wasting the night."

"Where d'you wanna start?"

Edwin pulled out his notebook. He had notes and sketches in there based upon the floor plan that Crystal had sourced via her miraculous internet. Though he suspected he wouldn't need them. Already the sprawling skeleton of this old haunt was reassembling itself in his mind's eye. "It is as I said. We'll scour the lower levels, then work our way up." He furrowed his brow. "Strictly speaking, we should have started lower. This is the first floor, thanks to the stairs outside the main doors – the ground floor is below us, but it's mostly utilities. Kitchens, laundry, storage. Still, we shouldn't rule out that something of import could be down there."

"Easily solved." Charles got down on his knee and stooped, until he could press his forehead to the floor. Then he kept pressing forward, bent double with his backside in the air, and his incorporeal head bobbed through the carpet. Like an ostrich in the sand.

"Laundry room," he called, voice muffled by carpet and floorboards. "No one there. Should be safe to drop right through."

With a fond smile at Charles' bobbing back end, Edwin steepled his fingers. "A quick detour, then," he said, and hopped neatly through the floor and into the room below.

~

An unnecessary detour, as it turned out. But attention to detail was a key part of any detective's toolbox. After scouring the warren of utilities, they rejoined the first floor via a small service staircase between the kitchen and the mess hall.

"Ugh," said Charles, wrinkling his nose as he investigated the new (since Edwin's time) glass-fronted serving station. "Can't believe the last thing I ever ate was school dinner. Didn't even finish it, it was that rank.

Edwin blinked at him, pausing in his inspection of the head table. "You were permitted to leave food on your plate? They excused you?"

"...I mean. Yeah?"

"Goodness," Edwin chuckled, shaking his head. "What a liberal time you lived in."

"Not that liberal, mate. Got beaten to death, remember?"

Edwin smirked. "Perhaps if you'd been disallowed from leaving until you'd cleared your plate, you might not have found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time."

His deadpan achieved the desired effect. Charles laughed, a bright spot in the dreary gloom. "Right. Brills. Bob back in time and tell myself to choke down the sweetcorn, then."

"Wise course of action."

"Right." Charles lifted the lid of a pot that someone had forgotten to clear away, and mock-gagged. "Nope. Not worth it. I'll take death, cheers."

~

The dining hall turned up nothing. Nor did any of the offices, lounges and staff rooms. Their exploration of the first floor came and went with no discoveries or fanfare, and soon it came time to move on. To the central staircase, and the second floor where the majority of the classrooms presided.

Edwin felt his apprehension mounting with every step. Two floors of fruitless searching was starting to irk and unsettle him. He longed for something decisive; a supernatural feeling, an apparition, even a blood-curdling scream. It felt worse to worry incessantly with no stimulus, unable to prove there was anything amiss outside of his own childish fears.

"They've replaced the blackboards," Edwin commented upon entering the first room. Craving a discovery, a distraction, anything.

"Oh. Yeah, I remember – they started switching them out my last year here. Headmaster was mad about these shiny new things. Probably got whiteboards in every room, now." Charles squinted at the plastic panel with its chunky black frame. "These ones look different to what I remember, mind."

"What do you write on them with?"

"Pens. Special pens, like."

"Hm. Probably for the best. Chalk dust was bothersome. I always developed the most wretched cough when it was my turn to beat the erasers." Edwin found the pens attached to the board and picked one up. "Let's see. No lid..." He tried an experimental scribble. "And not a drop of ink. Dry as a bone." He eyed the branding on the whiteboard's frame, sceptical. "Smart Board, indeed."

"Don't think there's anything in here. Unless we're looking for something sucks the ink out of whiteboard markers." Charles took the pen from Edwin's hand, turning it over and inspecting it. "What d'you think? Some sort of ink vampire?" he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Don't see any fang punctures."

"I hardly think an ink vampire is what we're looking for," said Edwin, activating his torch and sweeping it in a wide arc. The abandoned classroom came into hazy, yellow-tinged relief under his beam. This had once been his English room, many decades ago. Save for the impractical board, it remained largely unchanged – although the wooden chairs had been replaced with ones of metal and plastic. The bookshelves at the back of the room remained in situ; the thick, leather-bound volumes of Edwin's time supplanted by new editions with glossy cardboard covers.

Edwin hadn't much cared for his English lessons. He was good at them, of course, and he loved reading. Since escaping hell, he'd revisited a number of the books he'd once studied. But his heart had always sunk whenever he was called on to stand before the board and read aloud for the class. The snickers and guffaws of the other boys, the mean-spirited whispers and unsubtle name-calling. The nancy boy's, the Mary Ann's, and far worse when teacher's back was turned. God forbid he was asked to read a sonnet.

The sting of the memory hadn't faded with time, but had taken on some light and shade in the wake of his travails in hell. In the jeering blur of faces, he could imagine Simon's swimming into focus. Was that mockery in his eyes, or pity? Recognition? And was he really the only one? The only other boy in that room who'd wanted to reach out to Edwin, and felt compelled to push him away instead?

How many of them had passed through this room, like living ghosts, lost to time and to shame?

A cold, iron fist of grief clutched him by the throat. So tangible it damn near bowled him over. He caught himself on a desk, lest he lose his grip on the physical plain and plummet through the very floor.

"Edwin?!" Charles was beside him in an instant, hand on Edwin's back. "Edwin, what's the matter?"

Edwin screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Trying in vain to dislodge the ice that had seized upon his very soul, but it held him fast. He shivered, and Charles rubbed his back as if Edwin could feel it; as if he could coax the warmth back into a dead, frozen thing.

"There's... there's something wrong," Edwin bit out – alarmed at the resistance he faced. It felt like he had to force the words through chattering teeth. "Do you feel it?"

Charles hesitated, before exhaling a shuddering breath. "Thought it was just me," he said quietly. "Y'know. How I get."

Ghosts were beings of trauma – and dying of hypothermia was fairly traumatic, to say the least. Charles couldn't feel warmth anymore, but he could certainly feel cold; and in times of distress it seemed to shroud him, clouding his speech in icy vapour.

A small pang of guilt pierced Edwin like a thorn; perhaps Charles had already been feeling the chill for some time, and hadn't deemed it worth a mention.

"No. No, it's not just you," said Edwin, reaching back to pat Charles on the arm with a hand that felt like a block of ice. "It's not just you at all."

Charles gave a lopsided, flimsy smile. "Dead comforting, mate. Come on, let's get you up. There we go."

With Charles' support, Edwin managed to regain his footing, but the feeling remained. It had settled upon his essence like a dense snowfall; all-shrouding, all-permeating. Chilling him to the figurative marrow.

"D'you think this is it? What that bloke was on about?" asked Charles, jerking his shoulders, rubbing his arms.

"Struggling to see what else it could be. Although he said nothing about a sense of cold..." Edwin rubbed his head, trying to think past the immediate, intense discomfort. An image came to mind, unbidden, of Niko across from him at a café table. The drinking straw dropping from her lips, her entire face crumpling as she clutched her head and cried out "brain freeze!". Had he any inkling of how distressing the sensation was, he might've said something more consolatory than he had at the time.

The secondary knife of grief at recalling her face twisted itself deep in his back, pressing so hard on his shoulders his knees nearly buckled.

"Well," he said, strained. "At least we know we're not on a wild goose chase. There's definitely something here." He rubbed his gloved hands together. A peculiarly vivid, instinctual muscle memory, leftover from the days when cold wasn't a distant memory. "We must continue the search. Let us check the desks while we're in here."

Charles gave a sharp nod, his face drawn, the first phantom wisps of breath creeping from his lips. Normally, Edwin would have offered his own coat to fend off the psychic, psychosomatic chill by now. But with Edwin likewise affected, it felt like any attempt to shrug out of the garment would be met by cracking and splintering. Spectral wool rendered asunder by devouring ice. For the first time, they were each as incapacitated as the other. Not a drop of warmth between their two dead, insubstantial forms to make a dent in the frost.

But their hands found one another, nonetheless. And it did make him feel better, warmer, even only infinitesimally.

There was something to be said for the placebo effect.

~

It was a long shot, hoping they might happen across some kind of obvious cursed artefact or hex doll in a pupil's desk in the first classroom they searched. Still, best to leave no stone unturned. In they end they had to concede that whatever it was they were looking for, they weren't going to find it in the English room.

They passed through the other classrooms in a similar fashion. Each presenting them with no evidence, but an abundance of unwelcome memories. The maths room, where Edwin had acquired a small scar on his jaw from a compass flung in his direction. The geography room, where he'd once been soundly caned for a book he'd 'defaced' – while the real culprits got off scot-free, of course. The old history study, where he'd often sought refuge of an evening. Where he'd tried to focus on the kindliness of the professor; and not on the unreadable, uncomfortable way he would sometimes sit and watch Edwin from across the room. Like he knew something about him. Like he had half a mind to bid him come closer.

The feeling, such as it was, seemed to bear down on them with every room checked, every memory unearthed. By the time they reached the stairs to the third floor, they were both near panting from exertion; wading through the empty corridors with all the ease of stomping through snow drifts.

"If it isn't even down here, what's it gonna be like when we're closer?" asked Charles, blowing on his hands and stomping his feet. He looked pale and peaky, his words and breaths escaping in ragged puffs of phantom condensation.

Edwin was faring no better. He felt tight in the chest, frayed in the nerves. The chill had penetrated so very deep, he had begun to hear it; like a cutting wind, like ice creaking under foot. Like a crackling, throbbing drone in the back of his consciousness.

There were two more floors of this wretched place left to investigate, and already he felt crushed under the avalanche of ill feeling and dreadful recollections. He was tired of dredging up things he'd worked for decades to put behind him. Tired of wading through this viscous mire of magic and memory. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be back at the agency, where it was calm and safe and the walls were imbued with a kinder history. He wanted to find whatever was causing this disturbance at once, and put this damnable case behind them!

He about-turned to face the end of the corridor – and there was the mirror. An ancient thing, ornate frame carved from finest mahogany. He remembered it well. A hundred years it must have stood there. More than a hundred – it had already been old in Edwin's time. It had survived well, save for a small patch of woodworm damage in the lower right corner. Edwin used to stand in front of it, sometimes, when the other boys were outside shooting clay pigeons or playing rugby. Used to gaze, forlorn, at his own reflection; wondering if there was a way to be anything but what he was.

There was no reflection now, of course. He'd seen his reflection only once in the last thirty-odd years; on his return to hell, his introduction to Lady Despair. He'd seen himself a hundred years on from this mirror, marred by filth and bloody gouges. So different to how he remembered. And yet still, always and forever, the same frightened little boy. Trapped and miserable; searching for a way out.

Don't... Don't...

A whisper on the gale, barely intelligible as words. Was the call coming from himself? Or from the thing they sought? It was impossible to know, but whatever it was, it was crying from the back of his soul. Clawing out, grasping for him with icy fingers of terror and desolation.

"Edwin?"

Charles' voice seemed to fade behind the whisper. Behind the steadily growing cacophony of creaking wood and shuddering glass. If this was real after all, and not just a trick of the mind, then this thing, whatever it was, could bring the entire blasted building tumbling down.

Edwin held his hand out to the mirror, no coherent thought behind the action. It was where he needed to be. Reaching out, reaching in, making contact with the space behind and between.

"Take me," he breathed. "Take me to the root of this."

"Edwin," Charles' voice came from far away. "Edwin, stop! You dunno what you're bloody walking into!"

No. He didn't know. But he needed to. He needed to find the cause, the catalyst, the beating heart under the floorboards. Needed to find the source of that cry – needed to know that it was external, and not a result of his own mind coming undone in this foul place. He reached to the mirror, through the mirror. Rigid glass parted for his fingers with a gentle ripple; the softly broken surface of a still pond. Calm waters, a silky embrace.

And then it gripped him tight, and dragged him under.

~

He was distantly aware of Charles' panicked cries, but they were cut off in moments as the mirror's surface froze over behind him.

Severed from the material plain, Edwin tumbled into freefall. Through that familiar trans-dimensional space behind the reflection; but it didn't feel familiar anymore. It felt tumultuous, violent. He toppled through the in-between space like Alice down the rabbit hole; twisted and turned, tossed from current to savage current. Beaten and battered from all sides by vigorous currents of nothing and everything and not-quite-almost-something. All the time followed by that whispering in his mind, growing in frequency and fervency: Don't. Don't. Don't leave...

And then he was through. Spat out without ceremony, without so much as a by-your-leave. He barely caught himself as he staggered back into the world – a cloud of thick, grey dust erupting under his skittering feet.

"Edwin?!"

Ah, there was Charles again. But he sounded different – smaller, further away, tinny. It took longer than Edwin would care to admit to realise he was hearing him through the walkie-talkie in his pocket.

"Edwin, where the fuck are you? The bloody mirror closed up behind you!"

Edwin fumbled for the device – an uphill struggle, with frozen fingers and a brain yet to cease spinning. It was even colder here, wherever here was. Sub-human temperatures. Had Edwin any blood, it would have flash-frozen in his veins. "Charles," he gasped, as he clumsily depressed the transmit button. "Charles, I'm here. I'm in one piece."

He released the button. Shortly afterwards, a static-clouded echo of Charles' incredulous laughter cut through the speaker.

"Oh, you fucking bastard," Charles blurted, with feeling. "You just went for it! You... you absolute wanker. We're meant to stick together, yeah? Fuck. Tell me where you are. What's it look like?"

"I'm..." Edwin blinked through the dust and dark, eyes adjusting. He didn't want to chance the torch until he knew for sure that he was alone. He squinted at the lines and surfaces illuminated by the feeble moonlight through the dirt-encrusted window. Piles of assorted dross and clutter, caked with dust. Ropes, shelves, broken chairs, ratty sports equipment and bedding...

Oh.

"Oh." He pressed the button. "Charles, I'm – I'm in the attic. The attic."

Charles' short, shocked breath whistled over the line. "Shit. Really?"

"Quite positive." He straightened up from his awkward stance, but couldn't find it in himself to dust off his coat. He moved stiffly, sluggishly; frozen down to his very ectoplasm. "Why would it bring me here...?"

"Edwin? Edwin, listen to me – just stay put, yeah?" Charles implored, his voice punctuated by hollow thumping. No doubt he was throwing himself up the stairs with reckless speed. "I'm coming to get you, I'm gonna leg it, just – don't move!"

"Don't wake up the entire school," Edwin countered, through chattering teeth. He received no response, so he put away the device with shaking hands and took stock of the situation. The space, like much of the school, had barely changed in the years since he'd last seen it. None of the clutter had been removed, only added to. New objects – including the large, cracked mirror Edwin had stumbled through – lay propped against the old. The only distinction between the two lay in the differing thickness of the covering dust.

He was alone, as far as he could tell. No people, no ghosts that he could see. But he didn't feel alone. He felt, in that sinking stone of dread in his stomach, that there was something else here. Something cold and desperate and far, far more lonely than he, and it was crying out to him. Tugging at his sleeve like a child. It wasn't a voice, as such, but it was a plea. It wanted him closer. It wanted him.

Don't move. Charles said not to move.

But his neck nonetheless craned of its own volition. Drawn towards the needling drone that he could neither hear not not hear. The sonorous buzz that cried out look at me look at me see me please see me. It seemed to grab him by the jaw and force his gaze over, over, to that same miserable pile of boxes and blankets where he'd once read Charles Rowland to his rest. No. No, not to the boxes or the blankets.

To the trunk.

He recalled it, dimly. The large black trunk with its brass clasps and corners. He'd perched atop it as he'd read to Charles. It still had his scrounged selection of dusty comics balanced on the lid.

The cry was coming from inside, he was certain of it.

Don't move. Don't move.

The floorboards groaned under his footsteps. He felt heavier, here. More tethered to the physical realm. To the strange call that gripped him by the collar and demanded he come closer, closer still. To the leather and wood under his gloved hands as he ran them over the chest, fingers trembling on the clasps.

Up close, the drone was no longer a drone. Had never been a drone. It was a rattle. A dry, endless rattle.

Wait for Charles. Please. Just wait for Charles.

Brass clicked. Leather creaked.

The trunk opened.

~

"Edwin?!"

Charles barrelled through the wall at speed, eyes wild, cricket bat brandished. He skidded to a halt that was near cartoonish; just before his momentum could carry him right across the small attic space and through the opposite wall.

It might have been amusing – were Edwin not currently beset by the notion that he may never laugh again so long as he continued to exist.

"Edwin?" Charles hollered. "Where are you?"

"I'm here." Edwin's voice was small, fragile despite his best efforts. He was struggling to support it.

Charles spun on his heel and dashed to Edwin's side. "Edwin! You scared the shit out of me! What're you thinking, blinking out on your own like that?!"

"I had a hunch. At least, I think I did..." He looked up – when had he sat down on the floor...? – and drank in the sight of Charles. He looked a bit like he might want to wallop Edwin with his cricket bat. Edwin had never seen a sweeter sight. "I'm sorry. You're right. I wasn't thinking."

Charles huffed, his face softened. "You? Not thinking?" Charles hunkered down beside him, bat across his knees, hand reaching out to palm across Edwin's shoulders. "What's going on with you, mate? I mean, I feel it too, but... it's really getting you, innit?"

"Yes," Edwin exhaled, voice shaking. "And I believe I know why."

"You found something?" Chales leaned in closer. "What? What did you find?"

Edwin closed his eyes, and slowly lifted the lid of the trunk once more. "Myself. In a manner of speaking."

He waited, focusing on the darkness behind his eyelids. He'd already seen the contents of the trunk, and he had no desire to see it again. No matter how mournful its cries to be seen.

A moment of silence passed, and then Charles swore, voice cracking around the expletive. "Oh, fuck. Edwin. Mate, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

The weight lifted from Edwin's hand as Charles took hold of the lid of the trunk. Edwin gratefully relinquished it.

"Did you know these were up here?" asked Charles. He sounded close to tears, close enough that Edwin almost opened his eyes to look. He couldn't bring himself to, in the end.

Edwin shook his head. "I wasn't even aware they still existed. When that demon took me, it felt like... like my entire being crumbled into nothing. There couldn't have been anything left. I was sure of it..."

"Are we sure they're..." Charles cleared his throat. "Um..."

"Mine? Yes. It's... difficult to explain, but I can... feel them." Edwin held up his hand, and even through his glove he felt an answering prickle in his palm. "Like they're trying to... pull me back in. Like they've been waiting for me."

"Have they just been here all this time?"

"My death was labelled a disappearance. No remains. So... yes. I fear so." He breathed out a ragged sigh, turning his head to Charles before he risked opening his eyes. "Whoever's responsible likely sequestered them up here at the earliest opportunity."

Charle visibly blanched. "So these were here? When we – when I...?"

"When you died. Yes." Out of the corner of his eye, a sickening blot of ivory white. He kept his gaze resolute, fixed on Charles and only Charles. "I suppose they were."

They sat in silence, staring; Edwin at Charles, Charles at the wretched horror they'd unearthed. Edwin found himself, for once, quite speechless. One's thoughts tended to scatter, when faced with the grim sight of one's own withered bones. Tucked out of sight and out of mind, piled into a trunk in an attic and forgotten like a former child's abandoned toys.

Charles sniffed, shrugging his shoulders sharply. "We can't just leave them here," he said, adamant. "We – we need to take them, yeah? Leave 'em on the coppers' doorstep, prove what happened here."

Edwin shook his head. "I disappeared in nineteen sixteen, Charles. Without a trace. The very definition of a cold case. I know there's been significant advancements in the forensic sciences, but even if they were to glean some evidence, what would they compare it to? What in the world is there left to connect these bones to me?"

"They'll find something."

"Next to impossible."

"Don't you want people to know, Edwin?" Charles burst out, turning to look at him at last. There was rage burning in his eyes, his voice straining under the force of it. Not rage at Edwin, he didn't think. Just at the situation, at the unfairness of it. Frustration bubbling over. "You said it yourself; no one ever solved our cases. You could be the first. Show everyone what goes on here, tear this fucking place down."

"And if nothing gets done, Charles?" Edwin snapped back. "We don’t trust the police for good reason. If we hand this new evidence to the them on a silver platter and they bury it again, what then?"

He regretted his outburst in an instant when Charles fell silent. Guilty, grief-stricken. It was a horrible expression on his face, far worse than the anger, and Edwin immediately despised himself for putting it there.

Edwin sighed. He couldn't look Charles in the eye. But he could reach out, tentatively nudge his hand with the back of his own. A little bit of the ugly rift healed when Charles accepted the olive branch without question. He wrapped his fingers around Edwin's and squeezed – for all the good it did them.

"My parents are long gone, Charles," said Edwin, when he'd gathered himself. He kept his eyes trained on Charles' thumb, and the way it traced small circles on the back of Edwin's hand. With their gloves in the way, Edwin could almost pretend that was the only reason he couldn't feel the gesture. "Every relative I ever knew, everyone who could possibly miss me. And the boys who did this..."

He thought of the massacre that preceded his own abduction. Thought of Simon, rotting in that dingy pocket of hell, textbook pages tarred with tears and blood.

Edwin closed his eyes. "Everyone who could've been punished for this has been. I've... I've no more closure to gain."

The truth of the statement came as a surprise even to him, but he couldn't deny it. Everyone who would have cared to know what happened was long, long gone. The best he could hope for was a black mark on the school's record, a curious obituary in the local news.

Charles huffed, but he didn't argue again. "Alright. Alright, mate." He extracted his hand from Edwin's to put it on his neck, just briefly. Just holding his face a moment, almost as he had on that very long staircase some months ago. He cracked a barely-there smile. "It's your bones, innit? Your rules."

Edwin returned it, weak, but grateful. Too exhausted even to think about their proximity, about the intimacy of the gesture. He hadn't a single thought except for how dearly he'd like to sink into it and let Charles carry him, now. Let him take over, just for a little while.

"We can't just leave 'em here, though," said Charles, with a glance daring Edwin to argue.

"No," Edwin agreed, somewhat feeble. He didn't want to look at them; and yet, paradoxically, he'd never wanted to look at anything more. He looked at Charles instead, drawing comfort from his familiar countenance. "No, I suppose we can't."

Charles stared into the trunk a moment longer, a soft, ethereal glow playing on his fine features. Why the bones seemed to be possessed of their own faint light, Edwin couldn't possibly begin to guess. Nor could he guess why they'd altered the spectral temperature so drastically. Or why the chill had alleviated somewhat, the very moment he'd opened the box and looked upon them. Under Charles' gaze, the thaw was even more profound. Edwin could almost be fooled into thinking himself warm.

Upon looking away from the bones, Charles met Edwin's gaze. And he held it, steady as a rock, as he pulled his hand from Edwin's neck and reached into his own coat. A burst of static broke the silence.

"Crystal," said Charles, holding the walkie talkie up to his face. "Crystal, you hear me? Over."

"Yeah, Charles, I hear you," came her voice – the signal was weak, but stable enough. "And you don't actually have to say 'over'."

"What? 'Course I do, that's the whole point of – actually? Doesn't matter right now. Crys, need you to do us a favour. Go home."

"What–?!"

"Back to the office, I mean," he rushed out. "Run back and dig out that other mirror from the spare room. The proper big one, should be buried somewhere. Probably under the surfboards."

"You guys have surfboards...?" She made a noise of indignation. "Wait, and a spare room?! I slept on that stupid couch for two weeks!"

"Have a go at us later, yeah? Just – right now, please, go dig it out, and put it in the office, alright? Please, Crys." He scanned the trunk with his eyes. "Somewhere with lots of space in front."

"Ugh, fine. But Charles – what's going on?"

"We found what we were looking for." He closed his eyes, and then the trunk – and Edwin wondered if he, too, could hear the plaintive cry in the back of his mind when he fastened the clasps, committing the bones once more to darkness. "And we've got something important to shift. Over and out."

~

Reeeaaally hope you liked it! Any thoughts? I'm still in the process of pulling together the rest of the story, but I think it'll probs be 3 chapters overall, could really use the motivation to get the tricky second chapter into shape! Some commentary! - not much Crystal in this chapter but I promise more of her in 2/3! - writing them bobbing through floors and things was SO fun, I get that it adds a whole load of special effects they need to budget for but I think the show should have more fun with them walking through walls lmao - the weird history professor is kind of inspired by Hector from the History Boys. Which, if you've never seen it, is a play/movie about a bunch of boys whose favourite teacher is also, well, kind of a fucking creep. It's sort of a dark comedy and honestly just really interesting with the way it depicts this bizarre relationship, the way this person in these teens' lives is objectively doing something Shitty to them but he's still their favourite because he also supports them and inspires them and makes learning fun and, in Posner's case, makes him feel less alone in his queerness. I didn't put him in to imply that in the canon of this fic, Edwin has actually been sexually abused - but the Hector-type character slotted rather neatly into the strange culture of this setting and this era. It just added another little layer of tragedy I couldn't resist. Another queer person in Edwin's immediate vicinity, warped by the repression and loneliness of the time into another potential abuser/antagonist, and unfortunately irresistible despite the red flags. - as mentioned in the intro notes, s/o to Ande for the Charles' misty breath idea! It wasn't originally gonna feature in this fic but then it slotted in so perfectly I had to borrow it! Everyone say thank you Ande for immediately coming up with the most banger headcanons like 5mins into joining the fandom. - I know the popular headcanon is ghosts can't feel stuff but CAN feel other ghosts, and while I generally subscribe to that it doesn't fit this fic for Reasons. Bear with me! - the bones in the attic is from the comics. I haven't actually read the main DBDA comics, but I've read the issue of Sandman they initially appear in. I'm assuming the show isn't doing the bones in the attic, since it looks like Edwin disappeared completely and all the boys who sacrificed him got killed, but it had such delicious angst potential I wanted to do my own take on how it could work in the show and that's basically what kicked off this fic! The ideas have been developing as I write though and the shape has changed a lot from my initial idea! Anyway, that's enough out of me, I've babbled enough today 😅 But I hope you liked this, please consider dropping us a comment if you did! Or come talk to m, honestly, I'm just excited about these guys and wanna yap xD Hopefully get the next chapter out in the next couple of weeks or so, but chapter 2 is probs gonna be the most awkward one bc it's the one where my ideas need to most work to string together! Until next time! 💛

[papil0nglegs]

Vox x Daughter!Android! Reader

Chapter 2: Empathy

Ch.1 Ch.2

Warnings: Swearing

A/n: so this is kinda a continuation of a rlly old fic I made a few months ago. I edited it a bit to make it look more like my new style of writing so make sure to read that! Also idk anything about computers so most of this stuff is just stuff I pulled out my ass 😻

Robot vocab-☆♡~!!•?

Third POV:

“Step on here.” Vox says out loud, tapping your oval shaped eyes, glowing blue. Your light blinks a bit at him, while you lift your head in order to face him, still collecting data on everything around you. The floor, the walls, the wires, your feet, Vox. Everything felt so new yet so familiar, you knew everything as well as nothing at all.

Vox sighs out of annoyance, that the robot that he had been working on for years is being quite unresponsive. But of course, he can’t just throw you out of all things away for such a small flaw. To him, you were bigger than his other products, you were a spectacle.

Vox eventually just decides to grab you by the back of your neck, and places you on the charging system for you. Like a mother cat lifting her babies by the neck. You then hear a small click beneath you, as the area around you glows. While Vox stands right next to you, his hands clasped behind his back.

“AW.77//FOUND”

Your head snaps at the voice that comes as soon as the square glows. “Don’t be frightened my failure of a friend, this is just a test! You’ll be in and out in no time.” Vox says in his regular swingy tone. “Now we just gotta see if your basic stuff is there, Yknow just to see if I’m not gonna have to worry about you for the next few years. Again.” Oof, he sounds a bit irritated on that last part. I mean who wouldn’t be after spending hours upon hours on an ai that can’t even respond to you.

“4ARM//:FIREARM”

Your left arm is then lifted by some sort of force that took over your body, then revealing a firearm of some sort opening from underneath your forearm. “Oh shit!! I forgot I added that..” Vox laughs, tapping at the muzzle of the weapon. The socket begins to close as the voice comes in again.

“VOICEBOX//:220”

“☆”, high pitched beep comes from the speaker that is laid in your chest. Vox eyes widen a bit, realizing that he had forgotten to finish up your voice file. Now you can only speak in beeps. “✿$~?” You ask, (I think..) “Fuck, no wonder you couldn’t respond. Alright let’s get you off” Vox then recreates the same scene he did putting you on the square, now removing you.

“You know what? Why don’t you stay here while I go grab my dead friend Velvet to get you some clothes for your naked self!!” Vox asks, waiting for a response as if he was gonna receive one. All he gets is two glowing ovals staring at him, “groan okay I’ll take you with me. Not like you have much to do here anyways”

Vox drags you the towers main elevator, then getting to Velvettes floor where she was screaming at her designers as usual. “Velvette?” Vox calls out calmly as if she wasn’t yelling at the top of her lungs. “Oh! Thank goodness you’re here Mr v.” She says sarcastically. “What do you need? And make it fast. I have a show to do in 2 hours and my models aren’t here yet.” Velvet exclaims.

“Well, I have a new model for you.” Vox nudges you a bit to take a step ahead to present you to Velvette. Velvette raises a brow, clearly unamused at vox’s ‘model’. “The fuck is this? Do I look like I make clothes for Claires?” Velvette complains while poking your fairly large metal head. Vox clicks his tongue, “okay well she isn’t supposed to be a model, she’s a project I’ve been working on and I just need her in some clothes.” He admits, holding his hands behind his back.

Velvette, still in her unamused look, sighs. “Yeah sure I’ll find her something.” Velvette then claps her hands twice before yelling, “MELISSA, THE STAGE, NOW!!” Her dear model steps onto the plush step up chair to try on outfits while Velvette snaps her fingers in order to show off the clothes she has in store for Voxs ‘project’. A short pink sundress poofs onto Velvettes model, Vox immediately cringing at the flashiness of the dress.

“How about this one? It was apart of my summer collection a few months ago” Velvette grins waiting for Vox’s response. “Hmm, let’s uhh look at more!” Velvette shrugs snapping her fingers again, showing a white thigh length dress, folded on the chest to be shoulderless, completed with a blue belt. “Oo this one’s cute innit? I bet your little friend would love it.”

Vox shrugs, he didn’t really care about the aesthetics, just as long as it covered his ‘projects’ body. “I’ll take it!” Vox says proudly, Velvette snaps her fingers, the outfit appearing right in her hands on a hanger. “Here ya go luv, tell your project I said you’re welcome” Velvette chirps. “Speaking of which, where did the cheeky little bugger go?”

Vox looks around a bit, before laying his eyes on you, who’s now covered in large unrolled sheets of fabrics and threat. “Hey! I had those organized!” Velvette yells. Vox, like a panicked parent, runs towards you to grab you by the wrist. “I’m so sorry Velvette! She’s still getting use to this place Yknow” Vox says with a large smile on his face. “Well then get er’ out of here! I don’t need her ‘getting use to’ anything around here” Vox makes a poker face at her, before dragging you to the elevator.

“Are you serious? You could’ve gotten damaged out there! I mean my work could’ve been a huge waste if one of those things fell directly on you!!” He yells. You completely ignoring him, begin to poke the random buttons that were placed in the elevator. Vox slaps his screen, “Jesus fuck what am I gonna do with you..”

You begin to look up at his screen, attempting to gather most of what he’s feeling.

“#$@*”

Vox looks down, to see you, now hugging him, your cheek lying against his stomach. Suddenly, you started to glow pink. Now for some reason, you can feel. Not feeling physically, but emotionally. Empathy was being printed in each wire in your body, and from what you knew, hugging was the best way you could show it.

Vox was a bit confused at your gesture, he didn’t really know how to feel since no one has ever showed him this level of affection. It felt right tho, like he got what he deserved. Even without words, he knew what you wanted to say. And he knew how to respond.

“Uh, I guess I forgive you..?”

[e-dubbc11]

Dog Day Afternoon

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Couple of swear words, fluffy bunnies and unicorns

Word Count: 3.8K-ish

Summary: STRIKE team commander at SHIELD, Brock Rumlow finishes a mission and brings something home with him that he wasn’t expecting

A/N: Based off of a conversation I had with my lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass I sent her Frank Grillo’s Insta story of him in his hot tub with his dog, Rumlow, next to him outside of the hot tub. He said that the dog never lets him have any alone time. So Lily said she would love a Brock Rumlow fic where he adopts a puppy. I’m also sorry I haven’t been around lately. Life throws curveballs sometimes 💔

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Is that all of them?” Rumlow asked.

Commander of the STRIKE team at SHIELD, Brock Rumlow and his team finished rescuing the hostages that were being held by pirates. One by one, they were removed from the ship and placed back into SHIELD custody.

“I think so.” Rollins said. “You want me to sweep the ship one more time?” He asked.

Brock pondered for a minute before replying, “I’ll come with ya…cover more ground that way.”

After checking the entire ship for hostages they may have missed, Brock and Jack met back in the control room. As they continued to talk, Brock thought he heard a whimper. Turning his head to the side, he held up a hand at Jack to get him to stop talking.

“What is it, Rumlow?” Asked Jack.

Brock pressed his lips together and listened again. “You hear that?” He asked.

Rollins listened intently as he heard the whimper that Rumlow heard. “Where’s that coming from?” Asked Jack.

Brock lowered his weapon and took out his flashlight. He shined his light under the control board and huddled in the corner, Brock saw two little sad eyes staring back out at him as it continued to whimper.

He crawled underneath and emerged a few seconds later with a dark graphite colored puppy. The pup was still whimpering and shaking; the poor thing was terrified.

Confused, Jack asked, “What was that doing under there?”

Brock replied, “I dunno…but other dogs were found in the cargo area. Maybe this one escaped and found it’s way up here.”

Jack started to walk toward the main deck of the ship.

“Well put it down, we gotta get outta here.” Said Jack.

Brock started to put the puppy on the floor but stopped. He looked into the scared eyes of the little dog and as soon as it’s legs touched the floor, Brock scooped it back into his arms again and headed for the main deck.

Jack cracked a slight smile. “Rumlow…what are you doin’? Leave it.”

“I can’t just leave her, Rollins.” Said Brock, nervously. “And don’t look at me like that, let’s just go.”

Jack just shook his head and followed Brock to the helicarrier, where the pup finally stopped shaking, curled up in Brock’s lap and fell fast asleep before they even left the scene.

**********

SHIELD Headquarters

Brock had his bag slung over his shoulder as he walked along the busy hallway toward the briefing room. Jack saw him walk into the room and immediately walked away from the other team member he was talking to so he could talk to Brock.

“Don’t start with me, Rollins. It’s too early in the mornin’ for you to be botherin’ me.” Brock said, his gravelly voice had a slight touch of anger behind it.

Jack’s hands raised in surrender and replied, “Alright, alright. I was just gonna ask if you took care of that dog.”

Brock glared at Jack. “Of course I took care of it.”

What Brock didn’t tell Jack was that he brought the pup back to his place and later today after work, he was going to stop by the pet store to pick up necessities for her because he couldn’t keep feeding her table scraps and locked in the bathroom with newspaper all over the floor for very long.

He hated to admit it but he took one look into her eyes and realized there was no way that he could bring her to a shelter now, not after this so after work he drove straight for the pet shop. As soon as he stepped inside, Brock was immediately overwhelmed by everything he saw.

Aisle after aisle of food, toys, grooming supplies, collars and leashes…he didn’t know where to start but lucky for him there was someone there that recognized the look of a new and overwhelmed pet owner.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you with something?” You asked softly so as not to scare him. You did sneak up behind him when you noticed he looked a little lost.

The man looked rough around the edges but still quite handsome. He had dark brown hair, light tanned skin and his narrowed eyes were the color of amber.

You spoke again.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t scare you. You just looked a little lost, thought maybe I could help. I’m y/n, this is my shop, and if I don’t have what you’re lookin’ for, I can definitely order it for you. Are you shopping for a dog, cat, or another animal?” You asked.

His eyes were hyper focused on you the minute he turned around.

“Nah, you didn’t scare me sweetheart. You’ve got a nice shop here and I am shopping for a dog…well, a puppy. And I’m Brock, by the way.” He said as he held out his hand for you to shake.

Your eyes widened as soon as the word “puppy” escaped his lips and your mouth split into an excited smile as you shook his hand.

“Really?!! A boy or a girl puppy?!” You asked, clapping your hands together.

Brock let a shy smile stretch across his lips. “Girl…she’s a rescue. Found her a few nights ago and since it was a full moon, I’ve been calling her Luna.” Said Brock.

You almost had to clutch your chest because the look he had on his face as he talked was so sweet.

Snapping yourself back to reality, you managed to ask him, “What kind of dog is she?”

Brock shrugged and started to pull his phone from his back pocket.

“I dunno…but I do have a picture of her.” He said.

Brock leaned in close, you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and warmth flushed across your cheeks. You watched as his thick fingers unlocked his phone and navigated to his photo gallery before pulling up one of the sweetest faces you’ve ever seen.

“OMGoodness, look at that face!!” You exclaimed. “Well, she looks like a Cane Corso. If you just found her, I’m guessing you haven’t taken her to the vet yet?”

Brock shook his head vigorously. “Nah, I’ve had to work so I haven’t been able to do that yet.”

You explained to him that he may want to bring her to the vet soon just to make sure she’s ok and you gave him the card of the veterinary hospital you bring your dog, Charlie, to.

“…They’re a husband and wife, really nice and fairly priced. Actually…lemme call them.” You said.

Brock started to protest.

“Oh, that’s ok…you don’t have to—“

“It’s no trouble.” You said, holding the phone to your ear. “Hi Jessica, it’s y/n. I’m good, how are you? Great! Listen…I have a guy here who has a new puppy and she needs to be seen…uh huh…Oh Dr. Alice can see her tomorrow? Awesome!” You said. “Oh the owner’s name is Brock…what’s your last name?” You asked, pulling the phone away from your mouth.

“Oh…it’s Rumlow.” Replied Brock.

“Yeah…Brock Rumlow. And the puppy is Luna. Thank you so so much, Jessica! Bye!” You said.

After the call ended, you flashed a smile at Brock and asked, “You weren’t busy around 4:30 tomorrow, right?”

Slowly shaking his head, Brock narrowed his eyes and repliedwith a sly smile, “Nope, I guess I’m not.”

Excitedly, you clapped your hands together again and said, “Well, let’s go Mr. Rumlow! We have a lot of stuff to pick out for little Luna, which I will warn you…she won’t be little for much longer. She’s gonna grow into those paws, ya know.”

You made him push the cart and took him from aisle to aisle to pick out food, toys, and a collar, among other things. He needed everything including a bed, food dishes, and a crate. That cart was full by the time you were done.

“Do I really need all this stuff, y/n?” Asked Brock.

“Well…you do plan on keeping her, right?” You asked.

Brock paused before answering.

“Yeah…I plan on keeping her.” He said.

You shrugged and pressed your lips into a straight line.

“Then you need all this stuff.” You replied.

Brock spent a small fortune on everything he needed for Luna but he was thankful for all of your help and knowledge. After loading everything into his truck, he said it was a good thing he didn’t bring the bike which made you crack a slight smile.

“So don’t forget, Luna’s appointment is at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon and the address is on that business card I gave you so don’t lose it. Actually, give me your phone…” You demanded.

He handed his phone over to you and you dialed your number so he had it in case he lost the card.

“Just in case. I’ll see ya around Brock Rumlow and if you need anything else for Luna, you know where to find me!” You said.

You watched him drive away until his truck turned the corner and he was out of sight. Brock’s little pup was just as cute as could be but you couldn’t stop thinking about her owner. The rasp to his voice, muscles visible under his tight black t-shirt, and every time he looked at you with those whiskey colored eyes, you felt a flutter in your stomach that was familiar but you haven’t felt in a long time.

You hoped that he would come back because you definitely have a crush on Brock Rumlow.

The Next Day

The day was moving along, the shop was busy from the minute you opened until around 2:30 when it started to slow down a little. A steady stream of customers came in and when you glanced at the clock, it read 3:30.

Luna’s appointment was in an hour.

What were you doing? Daydreaming about a man you spent an hour with picking out stuff for his new puppy? But he was so handsome and sexy…thinking about him was helping the time go by faster.

Around 5:30, the bell on the door rang. You were in the back trying to clean up the bath stations. For people who didn’t want to wash their dogs at home, you had an area in the back of the store that they could come and wash their dog for a fair price. They didn’t have to buy shampoo or anything but you would make money on people not wanting to wash their dog at home. It was a win-win.

Drying your hands on your apron, you walked toward the front of the store and you saw Brock standing in the middle of the open floor, holding one end of a leash and at the other end was little Luna. She started to wag her tail as soon as she saw you.

You felt a dip in your stomach as soon as you saw Brock. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and dark jeans and you hoped he didn’t notice you blushing so you crouched down to the floor to pet Luna.

“It’s nice to see you again too, y/n.” Brock said sarcastically.

You had scooped up Luna in your arms and she was licking the tip of your nose.

“Oh you are even cuter than your picture…yes you are! I’m sorry, Brock. I’m gonna go for the puppy every time, just to warn you.” You said with a wink. “How did it go at the vet’s office?”

Brock went through Luna’s entire appointment. They weighed her, estimated that she was around three months old, and gave her all of her necessary shots. He even told you that you were right about the type of dog she is.

“Well…I do know my dogs!” You said. “But she’s ok?”

He nodded. “Yeah, she’s fine. I just figured since I was in the neighborhood, I’d stop by so you could meet her.” Said Brock.

Still holding Luna, you looked at her as she licked your nose again and said, “Well, I’m glad you did because she is just the cutest thing. I can see why you couldn’t just leave her when you found her.”

“Just don’t go around tellin’ everyone I’m soft for cute faces.” He said with a wink.

Warmth spread across your chest and the tops of your cheeks. Brock was making you blush again and you needed to distract him before he noticed.

“While you’re here, do you need anything else for little Luna?” You asked, scratching behind her ears.

“I think I’m good, doll.” Said Brock.

The pet name made you blush again.

“Ok, well don’t be a stranger. Stop in whenever you need something or if you have any questions.” You said with a warm smile.

Brock waved as you watched him and Luna walk out the door. Well, you had hoped that he would come back but now you wanted to see him again.

You’ve had plenty of good looking male customers come in and none of them had made you blush like Brock had. What was it about Brock that had you so smitten with him? You knew it couldn’t JUST be the dog.

He was mysterious and acted tough but he was sweet too. You felt comfortable around him and he had a slight smile on his face when you were playing with Luna; you had a feeling that he wasn’t as grumpy as he seemed.

**********

Over the next few weeks, Brock would stop into the shop and sometimes it would be more than once a week. He would either buy Luna a new toy or a new bone to chew on and he picked up some orange cleaner recently because she would still have an accident every once in awhile but he said she was getting used to crate training.

Sometimes he’d come in to ask you things he could have easily found out for himself but maybe it was just because he liked talking to you. You couldn’t be sure though, but you were very sure you enjoyed talking to him.

The texts started coming in not too long after meeting Luna for the first time. One of them was a picture of her outside of the shower and the picture was taken from inside the shower…by Brock. You clenched your thighs together at the thought of him taking a shower.

He captioned the picture…

“She won’t give me any alone time.Always has to be by my side.”

You smiled at the picture he sent and replied,

“Awwww, she loves you.”

And you also replied with a picture of Charlie, sleeping in between your legs with the caption…

“If he could crawl inside me to sleep, he totally would.”

He replied with a laughing emoji.

You could always tell when Brock came to the shop right from work because of how he was dressed. He wore all black tactical clothing and you definitely enjoyed the view of him in that tight black t-shirt.

You asked a few times but Brock never told you what he did for work; he always jokingly said it was “classified” so you didn’t push too hard about it.

“What can I do for you today, Mr. Rumlow? Luna didn’t eat another remote control, did she?” You asked, chuckling a little.

Brock pressed his lips into a straight line and narrowed his eyes at you. “Very funny, y/n and no she didn’t eat another remote control. She has been really good the past couple of weeks, I think she’s getting used to being left alone and knows I’m eventually coming back.”

“Well that’s good. So did you need something?” You asked.

“Yeah I wanted to take her to socialize and play with other dogs. Figured you might know a place I can go.” Said Brock.

The two of you had been dancing around each other for weeks, being flirtatious through texts and in person when he would stop by but he hadn’t made a move so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Actually, I was gonna take Charlie to the dog park tomorrow afternoon, if you and Luna would like to come.” You said, watching your corgi chase after the clumsy Luna.

Brock watched as the two dogs played with each other, running circles around the two of you and playfully barking at each other.

“They seem to get along, huh.” He said with a smirk. “Yeah, the dog park sounds great.”

You told him where it was and agreed to meet there tomorrow. It wasn’t exactly the date you had in mind but you would use any excuse to see Brock outside of the shop. It would be the first time seeing him NOT wearing your work apron covered in wet dog hair.

As he called for Luna, the door to the shop opened and a tall man with a couple of scars on his face walked in and called out to Brock.

“You kept it, didn’t you! I fuckin’ knew it!” The man said, pointing at Brock.

You bit back a smile. “A friend of yours?” You asked.

Brock rolled his eyes at the man walking toward him then turned to you and replied, “Yeah…we work together…you followed me here, Rollins?!”

“Where is it?” Asked Jack, looking around.

“SHE is playing with Charlie somewhere around here.” Replied Brock. “I’m sorry, y/n. Lemme just…I’ll be right back.”

Before Jack could reach the counter, Brock cut him off. You managed to make out part of their conversation.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Jack?!” Brock asked.

A sly smile played across Jack’s lips as he looked at you then back to Brock.

“Well, I wanted to know why you kept blowin’ off after work drinks with the team but now I know why. You keepin’ her from us too? She’s hot. That apron is really doin’ it for me.” Said Jack.

Brock pointed at Jack.

“Will you keep your voice down! She’ll hear you.” He said, angrily.

“Alright, alright you don’t have to get all bent about it. I’m just sayin’ you should make a move or else I’m gonna. Maybe I should get a dog.” Said Jack, raising his eyebrows.

“Will you get outta here!” Brock said, glaring at Jack.

Brock introduced you to Jack before he left and confirmed your “date” for late tomorrow afternoon. You had butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the day and couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow.

From what you gathered from his conversation with Jack, it sounded like maybe Brock had a crush on you too.

Scratching Charlie’s ears, you said “We both have dates tomorrow, Charlie. You better be a good boy or else Luna isn’t gonna want to play with you anymore.”

Charlie licked your hand and cuddled up in his bed that was behind the counter. Apparently, chasing Luna around the store, took a lot out of him. He needed his rest if he was going to try and keep up with a puppy tomorrow.

**********

The dog park was no place for nice clothes. There were pups everywhere, kicking up dirt, putting their paws on you, and trying to trip you up as they ran in circles around you. But you still wanted to look good so you put on a black t-shirt, jeans and black sneakers.

You were also thankful it hadn’t rained lately so you wouldn’t have to walk through mud or worry about Charlie rolling in it, although he always needed a bath when you brought him home from the park anyway.

As you opened the fence gate, you scanned the park for Brock and Luna. It usually wasn’t very busy at this time, more than likely because it was prime time for cooking dinner. You found Brock sitting on a picnic table bench and throwing a ball for Luna to fetch and bring back.

He had a genuine smile on his face as he continued to play with her and he looked incredibly sexy in his gray t-shirt, jeans, and aviator sunglasses.

Charlie saw Luna, and as fast as his little legs could take him, took off running toward her. Biting down on your lower lip, you glanced quickly at Brock, and immediately felt your ears start to get hot.

You walked over to the picnic table and gave him a warm smile as he removed his sunglasses to look at you. His eyes were a warm gold color in the sunlight.

“Hey there…come here often?” You joked.

Brock cracked a little smile. “Are you full of jokes every Saturday, y/n?”

“Oh you know it! I leave my shop in good hands so I can have weekends off.” You replied.

“Ah, so you’re free on weekends.” Brock stated with a sly smile.

You heard what Brock had said but got distracted by Charlie rolling in something about 20 feet away.

“CHARLIE!! NO!! STOP THAT!!” You shouted at him as you turned to Brock and said, “I swear they always find the grossest things to roll in. He probably found a dead frog or something just as disgusting. Has she done anything like that to you yet? It is so foul!”

He started to laugh.

“I gotta tell ya, doll…you really do make me laugh and that ain’t easy to do.” Brock said softly, leaning in close enough to share the same air.

His compliment made you blush and he didn’t take his eyes off of you. The warmth from the late afternoon sun touched the high points of your face as you gently brushed your thumb against the bristles of his days old stubble and your lips ghosted over his before you said in barely more than a whisper, “Well I’d like to do it more often…if that’s ok.”

And you gently pressed your lips to his. Tension gripped your body and you became lightheaded with fear as you slowly pulled away, wondering if he felt the same way. A trace of a smile stretched across his lips as he leaned in to kiss you this time.

“I’d like that, sweetheart. I think we should be watching the dogs though, shouldn’t we?” Asked Brock.

“Then stop kissing me.” You replied with a sly smile.

“Oh I don’t wanna do that.” Brock husked against your lips. “But I do wanna take you out…without the dogs.”

Batting your eyelashes and jokingly clutching your chest, you asked, “Without the dogs? Well whatever will we do without them?”

Biting down on his lower lip, Brock eyed you from head to toe and brought his gaze back up to meet yours. The lump in your throat was hard to swallow and you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

He kissed you on the cheek before whispering into your ear, “Oh I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @k-marzolf @gijos @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @redstarsandnightmares @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[shrinkthisviolet]

Or ❛ who did this to you? ❜ with Morgan and Barry?

So this one…really got away from me 😅 it’s much longer than expected, and for that reason, if anyone prefers to read it on AO3, you’re welcome to do so (this is the case for all my prompt fills ofc, which are cross-posted to AO3 in this series, but I mention it for this one specifically because of its length).

Also…Happy Birthday Iris! I’m later to posting this than intended, but I wrote and finished this during June 24th, so it counts to me. Also, Iris is fairly prominent here for that reason (Morgan & Iris took as much center stage as Barry & Morgan in this prompt fill, hope you don’t mind 😅)

And one more thing…this takes place between 1x11 and 1x14 (connected to this fic, though it can theoretically be read as a standalone ig). And, obviously, it’s not canon to the AU—it’s a branching path, something that could’ve happened.

All that said, enjoy:

“You’ve got me, always. If you need anything…”

“I’ll call.”

Morgan hadn't expected to call in that favor so soon, but with her head still ringing from that hit earlier (so stupid, so, so stupid, why hadn’t she dodged it?), she had no other choice. Dad was home tonight, and she was nearly late for curfew, even without factoring in the necessary time to change out of her suit before he caught her.

She didn’t think she could stomach one of his lectures tonight—his disappointment cut deeper than any knife.

So, as her head swam and she struggled to walk steadily—were headaches this bad usually? She’d never had one like this. She hadn’t gotten a migraine, had she?—she called Iris.

“Morgan?”

“Iris!” Morgan sighed in relief. “Thank God, I…listen, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I really need your—”

“Where are you?” Iris sounded so worried already…but for what?

“I’m on my way—”

“Hello?”

Morgan frowned. What…? “Iris, I was saying, I’m on my way ho—”

“On your way where?”

“Home!” Was the connection bad or something? “Listen, I need your—”

Someone pushed her just then, and she turned to shout at them…only to see a car whiz by.

“Watch where you’re going,” her mysterious savior snapped, disappearing into thin air.

She, however, was more focused on what had just happened. She’d nearly been hit by a car. A car that she…hadn’t even heard. What the hell is going—?

“…home alone? At night?” Iris definitely sounded worried now.

“It’s okay,” Morgan insisted, “I’ll be fine, I just…I just need you to call Dad and tell him—”

“What street crossing are you on? Barry can come get you.”

“No!” Morgan couldn’t think of anything worse than Barry having to deal with her problems. He already resented her enough as it was. “No, I…I’ll be fi—”

“Morgan. Street names. I think you might have a concussion.”

Morgan burst out laughing. “A c-c-cussion? Come on, Iris, get r—”

“Please,” Iris begged—much to Morgan’s surprise, as Iris never, ever begged.

So she sighed and said, “One sec,” and slowly walked over to the nearest street signs, squinting. “It says…Pourer and Maim?”

“…do you mean Porter and Main?” Iris replied after a long time.

Morgan squinted at the sign. “I don’t…the letters are all wonky, I can’t…I can’t tell.” Tears welled in her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry. You can hang up if you want, I’ll figure this out mys—”

“Don’t be sorry! I’d feel terrible about leaving you to this—Barry’s on his way, and I swear he won’t bug you about anything. Okay?”

“Okay,” she relented, though right as she said it, she found herself picked up and swept off. Against her better judgment, she leaned her head on Barry’s shoulder.

He shook her as he set her down on a soft bed, looking surprisingly regretful. “Sorry. But we’ve gotta check you for a concussion first.”

When she nodded, he looked concerned, as if she hadn’t answered immediately, exchanging a look with Iris.

“Morgan, honey?” Iris squeezed her hand, smiling sadly when Morgan met her eyes. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go anywhere in this state. Barry already called Caitlin, and—”

“You didn’t have to bother her,” Morgan whispered, wondering why Iris’s sentence kept going even though Morgan had interrupted and Iris was no longer speaking. “I’ve had headaches before, I can sleep this off.”

“Morgan,” Barry said slowly, “do you realize that you’ve been answering our questions and reacting to us half a minute after we’ve spoken?”

Morgan blinked. “I…what?”

“And your speech is slurring,” Iris added, brows knitted. “Not much, but still. Caitlin says those are the two main signs. By the way,” she added to Barry, “what did she say?”

“She said she can’t make it tonight, so I should call her back and let her know how the injury looks. Speaking of which…?”

Morgan drew back nervously. “Why are you helping me? You hate me.”

“You’re hurt,” he said, as if that explained anything.

“So what?”

His face crumpled at that. “Morgan. Please. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. But I…I can’t leave you in this state. Please let me look?”

Despite her reactions apparently having a time delay, he didn’t do anything until she nodded and took her hood off, exposing the bruising on her face…and the one on the back of her head that was tender to touch—she winced as Barry’s fingers brushed over it.

“Who did this to you?” Barry growled, much to Morgan’s surprise. “Who would dare—”

“Is this from your…side hobby?” Iris asked delicately.

Morgan blinked, confused. Why the discretion? Doesn’t she know that Barry knows?

Barry frowned. “Are you talking about Sentry?”

Iris blushed, her cheeks darkening. “What? No. What gave you that ide—”

“You told her?” Barry’s eyes held pain, anger—and that pissed Morgan off even more.

“So what if I did? It’s my secret, not yours!”

“You had no right to tell her about me!”

“I didn’t!” Did he truly think so little of her? “I only told her about me!”

“Wait, wait.” Iris frowned. “Barry? What are you talking about?”

Barry froze. “Um…I…that is—”

Iris’s eyes widened just then. “This has to do with why you’re fighting, isn’t it?”

“No! I mean…yes, but no, not like—”

“Once Morgan’s asleep,” she interrupted sharply, “you and I are gonna talk, Bartholomew.”

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“In the meantime,” she declared, “go call Caitlin and tell her about this. And as she suggested, Morgan, you’ll sleep here overnight.”

“But…but Dad—”

“Do you remember his number?” Iris asked gently. “It’s okay if not, I could just get it from—”

“I’m his daughter,” Morgan snapped, “of course I know his number.”

“Okay,” Iris replied, taking out a piece of paper and a pen, “then relay it to me. Slowly.”

“Sure. It’s 816…uh…42…8…?” Morgan’s eyes welled with tears again as she smacked her head. “Come on, I know this! I—!”

“Woah, woah.” Iris pulled Morgan’s hands away from her head. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” She cried. “It’s…he’s my father, why can’t I…why don’t…?”

“It’s okay,” Iris repeated softly.

Barry came back in just then, saying, “Caitlin said she can drop by in the morning. And she’s calling Dr. Wells, so don’t worry.”

“It’s not her problem,” Morgan whispered. “It’s not…none of you need to…”

“Hey.” Barry kneeled down beside her, his expression softer than she’d seen it in the past few weeks. “I think maybe once you’re healed up…you and I need to have a talk, huh? An overdue one.”

“What?” He wasn’t making sense. “What kind of…?”

“I think…I think I might’ve been wrong about you,” he admitted. “Really wrong. In a way that hurt you for so long. I just…I just wanna make sure.”

“You should fill me in first,” Iris reminded him sharply.

“Yep,” he agreed, blushing. “I’ll do that first. And then…and then us. Okay, Mo?”

She was definitely hallucinating now. Or dreaming. Or something. Maybe she had a concussion after all, and she’d passed out without realizing and was delirious now. But…but this was a nice moment anyway, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t real? “Okay,” she agreed, her voice breaking. “I’d…I’d really like that.”

“Good.” Barry squeezed her hand. “Then let’s get you settled.”

And so they did. As Morgan drifted off to sleep, Barry and Iris sat on either side of the bed, and Morgan clung to Barry’s hand.

“Sleep tight, Mo.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And she believed him. Barry was a terrible liar, and he’d surely be the same way in a hallucination or dream too.

But then…is this real after all?

To clarify a few things:

Concussions can have many symptoms, even far more dangerous ones, though the ones I focused on are delayed reactions, confusion/disorientation, and forgetfulness. Slurred speech is alluded to, but I didn’t focus on writing it as a speech pattern 😅 so she has mild slurred speech (a mild-to-moderate concussion in general tbh). Also forgive me for any inaccuracies, I’ve never had a concussion, this is solely based on me skimming the Mayo Clinic and Cleveland Clinic pages about them. (Also ofc Morgan gets checked over properly by Caitlin the next day, and probably goes to see her pediatrician too)

The person who saved Morgan from that car didn’t actually disappear. It just seemed that way to her

816 is the area code around Kansas City, which is a city in Missouri that borders Kansas. For convenience, that’s where Central City approximately is (it’s canonically at the border anyway)

prompt list!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @starstruckpurpledragon @negative-speedforce @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

@miss-eli-starfleet

[spaceumbredoggos]

Had a nap. Considering leaking a potential ending for Aces and Oh’s. It’s really sad and dark, and it contains main character as a ghost. I’m toying with this potential plot line that I came up with whilst napping. I read something on Pinterest about killing the main character right in the middle of the story. Kenz might not survive Aces and Oh’s.

Also, Aces and Oh’s will have POV switches from Kenz and their two triplet siblings like how the pov switches in Warrior cats. I might poll whether or not to kill Kenz right smack dab in the middle of the story. Might not and leave it up to the fic to decide. I like to leak things, but it might be a bad idea to leak the ending. Might leak some other things in Ace’s and Oh’s like journal excerpts—

JUST START WORKING ON THE FUCKING PROLOGUE ALREADY!!!!

Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill.

No. No no no no no. Bad Bill. (Sprays him with a squirt bottle.) You know better than to rush authors.

WHY WONT YOU GO TO COLLEGE AND STUDY QUANTUM MECHANICS INSTEAD OF WASTING YOUR TIME TRYING TO BE INTERNET FAMOUS ON YOUR NOT EVEN THAT POPULAR BLOG?

First off, no one would even fund a pandimensional portal. Secondly, I am an artist. I made that dedication to that side of me the moment I started burning out with math during the pandemic in ninth grade. And finally, we both know how much I love telling stories.

MORE LIKE START TELLING A STORY WITH WAY TOO MUCH FILLER AND NEVER END YOUR STORY.

Okay. I get it. This time will be different. I will write with at least one ending in mind. Ending things is my weakness.

YOU’RE PLANNING ON KILLING OFF MY HENCHMANIACS!!!!

I gotta have Kenz win at something. Now stop leaking spoilers.

HOW WILL YOUR FAMILY FEEL ABOUT THE SKITS YOU MAKE ON TIKTOK ABOUT HOW YOUR FATHER ABUSED YOU?!!! HOW THE SCHOOL SYSTEM FAILED YOU?!!!

That’s unrelated. It was their choice whether or not to look at my profile. They chose not to speak with me as soon as I moved out only to meander onto my TikTok. It’s embarrassing enough that they found it.

YOU WOULDNT HAVE ALL THIS BOREDOM IF YOU—

I’m not gonna let you finish that.

WHY?!

Because you’re a petty bitch who can’t find someone else to build your stupid portal.

BUT YOU LOVE—

Shut up you insect.

FUCK YOU!!!!

Im gonna go play skylanders and cry every time one dies.

WASTE YOUR LIFE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES FOR ALL I CARE!!! YOU’LL NEVER AMOUNT TO SOMETHING GREAT!!!

Tell me something my dad hasn’t told me.

[babyitsbeautiful]

I gotta stop doing these life updates and just get on with it, but nevertheless...

Where do I even start?

I know I promised I would get back to 'crash through the surface' and I swear I will, I feel my creative muse has resurfaced but through a different fandom this time...

Twisters/Glen Powell/Tyler & Kate

I've seen this movie 3 times in the theater and once at a Drive-In but that was kind of a hot mess. Also, Glen Powell-- why, wtf, this man should be illegal in this movie. I live in TN but never got the whole cowboy thing until I saw him in this movie. (Men like that don't really exist here, btw)

I honestly have not loved another fictional couple this much since Gendrya. It's been a minute since I had an unhealthy obsession with something and I am living for it. It has got my love for reading fanfics back to the forefront of my mind again and I feel like I can finally pick back up where I left CTTS off just to get it and Gendrya finished for good. (Gendrya is still the main inspiration behind Beautiful Dangerous and the screenplay I am going to write, so they'll always be in my <3)

Anyway, a lot has been going on this year. A year ago around this time I found out about Lucy's cancer and I can't believe she's been gone for this long. Still miss her everyday. My brother is getting married in October and I'm serving as a bridesmaid, so that should make for a fun story.

But for the moment, I have A LOT going on in August including three out of state trips:

Poll Worker for tomorrow's Election

Nimesh Patel's show at Zanies

5 Days in Florida for my 32nd Birthday

Dermot Kennedy show at Blue Bird Cafe (tickets on sale Friday, wish me luck)

Train & REO Speedwagon Concert

Team Member for Creation Con Indianapolis, Indiana

Then an end of the month Bachelorette trip in Washington D.C.

In the in between days of all of these events, I plan to work on the next chapter of Crash Through The Surface and get that out sometime soon after finishing as well as work on some brewing fanfic ideas for Tyler & Kate in the growing Twisters fandom.

Seriously, go see this movie if you haven't yet.

I already have so many fics to start reading on Ao3 for Tyler and Kate, who needs a ship name BTW. Tate? Kyler? Wrangler Tamer?

Anyways, that's a little bit of where I am right now.

I'm trying to spend less time working on fan art and fics at work due to a new IT system that seems to know everything I download (pics for mood boards being the main) and it's honestly making me very self-conscious so after work is where I'll be letting my creative bitch reign supreme.

I have ideas for Twisters and an outline already for CTTS but any fresh ideas and suggestions are always welcome.

Twisters fandom, if you want a feel of what I love creating the most, search the #gendrya tag on my blog.

Love you all.

[whattimeisitfic]

3, 16, 29, 30, 32

Ask game answers. I’ll put a below the cut thing because I don’t want to force anyone to read or scroll past my blocks of texts of they’re just scrolling for fun pictures in any of the tags. However if you ARE interested in Lucifer-centric angst fics PLEASE consider giving my Ao3 fanfiction “What Time Is It?” a shot! _______________________

3 - Tell me about one of your fics you think is underrated/underappreciated.

Okay, not a Hazbin Hotel or Luci fic (go figure I’ve only posted two and both are pretty well liked) but a Voltron one (again, go figure, the onky other thing I have publish. At least on Ao3). It’s one of the one-shots I have in my collection fic (probably why it’s under-appreciated). It’s called “Notice Me” and I won’t go into too much detail b/c this is definitely NOT the fanbase for it, but basically it’s just some yummy angst, pining, and just Lance feeling like shit after months of being ragged on. With a delicious little panic attack that I had lots of fun writing (there’s nothing wrong with me I swear—)

16 - Is there a type of fic you would never write?

Hmmm… that’s a good question. Definitely nothing that’s like… the really taboo shit like incest or non-LGBTQ related M!preg (sorry y’all I am NOT on the Lucifer birthed Charlie train). Also will probably not, as of right now, ever write a Lucifer ship fic with any canon characters (expect MAYBE Lilith, but even then it won’t be the focus). It’s just… NONE of his ships appeal to me (maybe b/c I just want him so bad but I didn’t say that). And obviously angst is where I live so I probably wouldn’t write anything super smutty. I’ll read it any day of the week, but I’ll stay in my little bubble of giving Lucifer a million mental breakdowns tyvm!

29 - What's your most popular fic?

Gee. I wonder:

30 - What do you struggle with most when writing?

Hmmm… this is a good question. I think there are a couple main things.

One, trying to fulfill the wishes of my ducklings while also not taking forever w/ certain plotlines. Obviously I’m not gonna please everyone all the time, but I try to include requests pretty soon after I read them if I don’t have a specific plan for them to show up in the future (B/c otherwise I WILL forget).

Two, sometimes motivation is a real bitch man. I’ll have all these ideas floating around, then open my fic and realize I can do ANY of that yet because I’ve gotta finish writing this specific part that I’m stuck on how to make it flow right. Also this is gonna sound weird but sometimes I think I straight up zone out while writing. Like if I’m bored, I’ll write and convince myself that everything I just put on the page was trash B/c I didn’t absorb any of it.

Three, proof-reading. I love it and hate it. I need to do it B/c if you’d SEEN some of the whack ass typos I’ve made you’d been pointing, laughing, stomping me into the dirt. But it also takes so much time. It’s much better in the tummy angsty chapters where I’m genuinely excited to read through it again. I’m always so worried about my lacing in certain scenes, whether it’s too fast, too slow, etc. Though, I have noticed, I am a LOT easier on myself when I proof-read in the morning or afternoon as opposed to at night. Which is a little strange but whatever.

32 - What's a fic you'd love to write, but probably never will?

Oooo… there are a LOT of like… ‘head fanfictions’ that have been kicking around up here for YEARS that I know I’ll never get around to B/c like… ugh. Here are a few that are Lucifer/Hazbin Hotel based:

Cast of HH reacts to the show fic. Okay, call me cringe but I actually eat those types of fics up and there is NONE out there. I just want people to react to how BAD Lucifer’s living and mental situation is right now and coddle him, is that so bad? But I know I never will because those kinds of fics take SO! MUCH! WORK!

When I’m not thinking of this fic, there’s this other general concept that gets rolled around with Lucifer basically like… sacrificing himself for both Heaven and Hell in front of like… everyone. He lives in the end b/c like they all cliché stand in a circle and sing and their ‘good’ energy comes together to help him. But like it basically gets heaven and everyone to see him in a new light and realize just how much he ISN’T the monster he’s been pained to be. And what rlly hurts is me imagining his ‘last words’ to be something like: “I didn’t fuck it up this time.” Because. You know. Angst.

OOOO and one where like… it’s set somewhere in the future where Heaven is actually being nice and giving the Hazbin Hotel a chance. Multiple sinners have been redeemed at this point and the angels are down in hell having like a celebration at how far things have come. Lucifer feels both jealous that HE will never get that chance, and just absolutely hates himself because like ALL THESE SINNERS got the chance to go back, but he’s too horrible of a person to be able to have that forgiveness. Lots of feels that I actually DON’T wanna say too much about B/c after WTiI is finished I may want to try and make this happen. I’m only putting it under THIS ask because… u know… I have no clue where my headspace will be if/when WTiI does reach its final chapter. ________________

Thank you for sending in the asks! These were so fun to respond to!

[clotpolesonly]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @wellhalesbells!! ❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

213

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,201,156

What fandoms do you write for?

the fics i have on my AO3 are overwhelmingly Teen Wolf (174) 😂 with Merlin as the distant second (32), and then 5 for TRC, 1 for Captive Prince, and 1 for Dark Rise. 1 of TW's is also a crossover with Supernatural, which is not something that i would ever write for independently lol. currently i'm not doing much writing at all because writing is HARD and i've been low on writer juice for a very long time now, but when i do, it's TRC/TDT. that's what i want to be writing and what all the stories living in my head are for.

Top five fics by kudos:

Metamorphose (Merthur, Merlin) - 8278 kudos

Happiness is Effortless (Sterek, TW) - 8113 kudos

Much Ado About You Two (Sterek, TW) - 7632 kudos

I'll Dissolve When The Rain Pours In... (Stackson, TW) - 6549 kudos

We Duel At Dawn (Merthur, Merlin) - 5140 kudos

Do you respond to comments?

i respond to almost every comment i get, though i've taken to letting them pile up a bit before i get up the energy to do so 😅 just yesterday i busted through my backlog of comments, which had gotten up to like 50+ lol, i had just been ignoring it for 3 months. but it's been a point of pride for me since i was like 13 and yelling into the void on FFN to respond to every comment and review on my stories, and i've stuck to it reasonably well over the years. the only ones i don't reply to are the ones that make me anxious adkfjgh ones that ask questions i don't know how to answer yet - primarily, "will you/when will you finish this?" on fics that i INTEND, IN THEORY, to finish someday but don't have hope of doing so any time soon. i don't want to tell them no when i really do mean to finish someday, but i don't want to claim that i will and then fail to actually follow through. so i just. leave those comments in my inbox to haunt me like a heart beating under my floorboards. so i've got 22 of those lmao.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably either 1) These Gordian Knots We Tie (Sterek), which is a sort of an open-ended tragic self-sabotage the-journey-isn't-over-this-is-just-the-low-point kind of thing. i'd originally intended to keep writing, but frankly, i like it as it is. i've gotten several comments complaining about it, which i soundly ignore. or 2) An Empty Glass Is An Ugly Mirror (Dydia), which is an AU fic of Lydia trying to get Derek to leave his abusive wife Kate, but it ends with Derek going back to her. the A/N is optimistic about him leaving eventually 😂 but the story itself leaves off on a very unhappy note.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

a LOT of my fics are just pure unremitting fluff adlkfjgh, there's no way to answer this question

Do you get hate on fics?

i don't, really, which i'm grateful for. i've gotten a handful of kinda shittyish comments over the years, disagreeing with my authorial choices or characterization or arguing about the choices characters made, but i don't THINK i've ever gotten anything that was really aggressive or outright hateful. which, proportionally, with how much i've written and how many comments i've gotten overall, i find rather astounding. maybe i'm not writing controversial enough stuff 😂 i need to step up my game.

Do you write smut?

i have on occasion, but not very much, lol. gotta run the numbers again....... 6% of my catalog is actually E rated and E+M makes up a little under 10% haha. i can write smut, it's just a lot of work, and i don't usually care enough to bother.

Craziest crossover:

the only true crossover i've written is my SuperWolf one, One For The Road, One For Me (Stiles/Dean Winchester), which i had a great time writing and of which i'm quite fond 😂😂😂 i've got a crossover that lives in my HEAD, though, of TRC and the Hunger Games, where the main TRC cast takes the place of all the main characters in the games but where Snow and Coin remain themselves because there's just no one in birdverse that can really fulfill those roles, and if that fic ever makes it to the page, then it's OVER for you bitches alkjfdhg

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i did have someone steal To Be A King (gen, Merlin) and post it on wattpad with some name changes, but like......not the right names?? like they changed some of the regular character names but not any of the names of the OCs that made the fic unique to me personally, it was really weird, anyway i had to make a WP account so i could message them to take it down and it immediately disappeared without them actually responding to me directly lol. if anything else has been reposted elsewhere, it hasn't been brought to my attention.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i've had 15 fics translated and linked back to me on ao3, which is super duper cool!!! 8 of them are by the same very dedicated russian fan ❤️

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

people have asked to co-author with me before and i always tell them the same thing: bad idea alkjdfhg 😅 i'm a very opinionated perfectionist control freak of a writer, i would be a TERRIBLE person to co-write with. i would either steamroll the hell out of my partner or end up stewing in quiet nagging resentment forevermore that noooooo it should've gone like THIS it's so WRONG it would be better if THISSSSS on everything from narrative structure to word choice 😂😂😂 if you've ever asked to co-write something with me, TRUST me, i turned you down for everybody's sake ...........that being said, me and my best friend cami do collaboratively generate stories together on a regular basis, a kind of Yes, And-ing spiral that can end up thousands and thousands of words long and include details down to verbatim dialogue and body language. but!! the loosey-goosey nature of those chats doesn't quite trigger the same possessive instinct that real actual prose that will be posted and have my name attached to it does. those stories are BANGERS btw, if i could beam them directly into your brain, i would do so 😂 i hesitate to try and write them, though, cuz then it would take them out of our hands and into mineminemine and we'd end up in ^^^ the above situation.

All time favorite ship?

illegal question, impossible to answer, i am too much of a multshipper

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

For Shell And Safety (love this fic DEARLY, an OC i'm actually proud of, stalled out 7 years ago in the middle of the climactic fight scene and just......couldn't find my way out of it)

REM-DAC (soooo proud of the worldbuilding in this fic, got so close to the end until i realized i couldn't finish it because what it really needed was a sequel and i couldn't set up for a sequel until i planned out the sequel, and i could never find anybody willing to read 45k of WIP to help me brainstorm the sequel, so it's just been languishing for 6 years)

Thinking About Blue Skies (a Laura/Allison fic i started writing for the very first LHAW 7 years ago and couldn't finish before posting time. i weep for this one. never had an ending in mind, couldn't figure one out, gave up)

In The Absence Of Scars (i hurried this one out for posting before it was finished specifically so that i could be one of the first 20 fics posted to AO3 for the Dark Rise fandom 😂😂😂 i succeeded!!! but i stalled out, and by now the second book has come out with more info that jossed some of my speculation, and there will undoubtedly be more in the 3rd, and i just, hmm, idk if i'm ever gonna end up writing any more of it. it never really had an endgame to it anyway, i guess)

Merlin Ambrosius, King of Carthis series (the fics already posted in the series are finished, but i promised a threequel 8 years ago and even started planning it out, but then i switched fandoms and never wrote it. rip to the epic Merthian lovestory featuring baby dragons and dragonrider!Raime that may or may not ever come to be, idk, maybe someday i'll circle back around to it)

What are your writing strengths?

i've been told that i have very strong dialogue, and that i capture characters' voices/language patterns well. i'm rather pleased with my ability to convey emotion implicitly through action, body language, and expression rather than having to state it outright. i think my descriptions are good and i'm getting better at balancing description and dialogue. i've got a few action sequences that readers really seemed to like, so i think i've more or less gotten the hang of those 😂

What are your writing weaknesses?

structuring longer narratives is a struggle. knowing when to back off and let tension unwind instead of continuing to winch it higher. i can get stubborn about what i WANT even though it's not working well lol. and in line with that, i'm not the best at taking criticism. not in the sense of getting upset about it, but in the sense of just ignoring it alkdjfgh. like, sometimes i'll ask for critique, get it, and be like mmmmm suddenly i can't read sorry i'm jared 19, and then leave everything exactly as i wrote it the first time 😅 to the detriment of my story. working on that, lmao.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

depends on what you're trying to achieve with it. i wouldn't usually bother with it, cuz it's obtuse and confusing for your reader if you leave it untranslated and if you do translate it then what was the point of writing it out in the other language in the first place instead of just indicating that [the thing it means] was said in [language]?

First fandom you wrote in?

Harry Potter, i think, with early forays also into Wizards of Waverly Place, iCarly, Newsies, and Little Mermaid II 😂😂😂 but by bulk, primarily HP

Favorite fic you've written?

how could you ask someone with 213 fics that question??? that's rude and uncalled for and also impossible to answer. i feel like i'm contractually obligated to say To Be A King, my magnum opus of a fic, longest thing i've ever written and also the single most satisfying ending i've ever managed. that's my default answer for this kind of question, but seriously, it's rUDE, I LIKE MANY OF MY FICS FOR MANY DIFFERENT REASONS!!!

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tagginggggg @adamprrishcycle @flightspathfic @cheeeryos and as always, i KNOW i know more writers, but i can only ever think of so many at a time, consider yourself tagged if you wanna do it

[sp00kycrumpet]

When Our Paths Cross Again. (Final).

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: Soft!Joel; pre-outbeak up till end of Season 1; no use of y/n; sometimes Ellie is the adult in the situation

Warnings: swearing; character death; spoilers (if you haven't watched the series/played the game)

Word count; 9,227 out of 22,020

Will also be posted on my AO3

Part One. Part Two.

Thank you so much for reading this fic. It's my first finished TLOU fic (I have a bunch more to finish and post) I hope you enjoyed it 🥺 Feel free to drop a message if you have ideas or just wanna chat! 🖤 On to the finale!!

At the house, you took the main bathroom while Ellie was in a guest room. You were almost tempted to stay under the hot water for hours, finally feeling clean and refreshing. Finally able to not have your hair tied back and knotty, finally shave your legs and have a moment to feel human again. Now clean, you could see bruising from your escapades and sleeping on rocks but it was nice to not feel grimy and smelly. You got changed into the clothes Maria left out for you and headed downstairs, finding Ellie standing in the living room.

"Hey, I knew there was a girl somewhere under that dirt." You teased as she glanced at you, she gave a little smile before glancing back at the chimney breast. Your eyes followed her eyeline and saw the little memory board for Sarah and who you assumed was Maria's son. You opened your mouth when you heard Maria come back into the house.

"I traded to get you both new coats. They might be a little big but, they're good." She handed them over, Ellie moaning about the colour as you nudged her and thanked Maria. Ellie was still on guard with the woman as she tried to make small talk, eventually convincing Ellie to let Maria cut her hair while you excused yourself to go for a walk, promising Ellie you'd be back soon. You just wanted to see the place for yourself and be in your own company for a moment. You shivered a little, your hair still damp but it was nice to feel clean. As you walked through town, a few people passing said hello like you'd always been there. In the middle of town, you found a crowd of people around a Christmas tree that had been recently put up and covered in décor clearly made by everyone and their children. You smiled softly when movement to your left caught your attention. Joel came storming out of the bar, pausing by a streetlamp and leaning on it as a hand clutched his chest. The same as the other morning outside of the cabin. You headed straight over to him as he stood up, his eyes distant as he watched someone.

"Joel?" You said his name softly as you placed a hand on his back, he jumped a little and looked at you. A soft look on his face as he glanced back where he'd been looking. Turning you saw her. A young lady who looked the spitting image of Sarah, except obviously older. You looked back at Joel and recognised the look on his face and the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. You reached up to cup his face in one hand, gently rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb. He leaned into your touch as you wordlessly stood together and comforted him. You stepped closer and pulled him against you, hugging him. He resisted at first but just melted into your embrace, resting his cheek against your head as he took a few breaths.

"You smell nice." He teased lightly as you smiled and looked up. There was a hint of a smile on his face and you melted how it looked on his face, resisting the intrusive thought of kissing him right there.

"Finally showered. A miracle, right?" Joel shook his head a little as he finally let go of you and stood up straight. "I'm heading back to Maria's to get Ellie if you want to come? You could shower too, it feels so nice to be warm and clean." You said softly, Joel shaking his head.

"I gotta do somethin' and I just need a moment alone. I'll come by later." You frowned softly and brushed a hand through his hair.

"Don't get lost in that head of yours Joel. I'm here with you, okay?" Joel nodded a little, stepping back and turning to head through town. Your eyes glued to him as he left. You shook your head and turned to go back to Maria's. You bumped into her and Ellie at the front door.

"There's a movie showing in the town hall in about ten minutes, you two wanna come?" Maria offered, you smiled softly.

"Sounds fun."

---

As you walked through town, Maria pointed out the house you'd be staying in and handed you the keys, explaining Tommy would show Joel where it was once they were done. You thanked her and slid your arm around Ellies shoulders as you walked, the girl still tense and frustrated but she let you be physically affectionate with her. The town hall was packed with people, Ellie squeezing into one of the last empty seats as a movie played on a projector from the back. You hung to the side with Maria, smiling softly as The Goodbye Girl played out in front of you.

"This was one of my mom's favourite movies. I've seen it too many times to count." You whispered to Maria who smiled softly and nodded.

"Mine too. That's why I suggested it for tonight's movie night. It would have been my mom's birthday in a few days." You smiled at her, wrapping your arms around yourself as you turned your attention back to the screen. Once the movie ended, people hung around chatting and getting their kids ready to head home. You realised Ellie wasn't in her seat, panic gripped you as you frantically scanned the room and called her name a few times. You squeezed through the crowd to do a lap but still couldn't find her. You cursed under your breath and headed out the front door, checking every person you passed until you found her sat on a bench.

"Ellie. You scared the shit out of me then." You exhaled, moving to stand in front of her.

"Sorry." She muttered. "I went for a walk." You frowned and crouched in front of her, your forearms resting gently on her knees.

"What's wrong?" She shook her head, wrinkling her nose a little.

"Can we just go to the house now? I'm tired." You nodded and stood up, Ellie joining you as you walked in silence towards the house Maria had pointed out. Something was bothering the girl but you knew better than to push. She really was just like Joel.

Once inside the house, the two of you had a quick look around before you found a bedroom for Ellie to stay in. A comfortable looking single bed and clothes from a young previous resident. You hugged her tightly and bid her good night. Ellie just quietly repeating it before closing the door after you left. You padded around the house, feeling a little strange at being in a house after the desolate apartments of the city or sleeping in caves. It was sparsely furnished with a brown couch in the center of the living room, a bookshelf on one side had a couple of well worn books on it - some of the titles barely visible from years of being handled or sunbleached. It was warm, cosy. You'd be happy to stay forever, you found yourself wondering if you could convince Joel and Ellie to stay a little while before continuing, maybe even come back here after the Fireflies did what they needed to. You made yourself a coffee, tipping the last of your whisky into it to help yourself sleep. You changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt you'd found in the main bedroom and got comfortable on the sofa with a blanket draped over you. At some point you dozed off, waking up when you heard the front door. You froze, listening before you realised it was Joel. You sank back into the pillows again and closed your eyes, his footsteps got closer before he paused. Then the blanket got pulled up over you properly before his footsteps disappeared upstairs. You smiled to yourself and settled comfortably, listening as you could hear the soft noise of him talking to Ellie. You almost drifted off again when you heard them get louder suddenly. Arguing. You got up and headed upstairs, pausing by the door as you heard them.

"So don't tell me I'd be safer with someone else cause the truth is I'd just be more scared." Ellie said, your heart dropping as you wondered what was going on with them. The silence was deafening for a moment.

"You're right. You're not my daughter and I sure as hell aint your dad. Now come dawn. We go our separate ways." The door opened and Joel walked out, slamming it behind him. He never saw you stood at the top of the stairs as he stalked through to the bedroom. You bit your lower lip and waited before knocking on Ellie's door.

"Fuck off." She answered, muffled. You sighed softly.

"Ellie it's me. Can I come in?" When she didn't answer, you pushed the door open and found her sat on the window seat, forehead against the window as she cried. You headed over and sat beside her, quiet. You offered your hand and she responded by throwing herself into your arms, burying her face against your chest. You gently ran your fingers through her hair as you let her cry it out. You couldn't understand what had happened and you wanted her to tell you when she felt comfortable. After a few moments she sat back, her eyes filled with anger and hurt.

"He's palming me off to Tommy. Saying I'd be safer with him. I don't get it. We came all this way, been through so much and he still thinks of me as just a package?" She sighed. You shook your head, reaching out to pull Ellie against you, her back against your chest as you held onto her.

"Joel… avoids attachments. He's lost a lot of people and he just thinks he can protect himself by pushing everyone away. But he just hurts himself and everyone else instead." You muttered softly as Ellie's breathing eventually slowed from her hysterics.

"When I went for a walk during the movie, I overheard him talking with Tommy. He told him everything. Saying he can't do it." You sighed quietly as you hugged her.

"Despite what he just said, Joel does care about you. And that's what scares him the most. Because if he cares and something happens to you, he'll never forgive himself."

"But I'm not Sarah. And we've made it this far, why give up now? It just doesn't make sense." You frowned softly.

"How did you know about Sarah?"

"Maria let it slip when you went out. She didn't tell me much but tried to use it to make me not trust Joel." You hummed quietly.

"Sarah died on outbreak day while Joel and Tommy were trying to escape. From what Joel told me, she died in his arms after getting shot by an asshole from FEDRA. He may have just said you aren't his daughter, but I can see how he looks at you, talks to you and treats you. He cares about you so much that I think it reminds him of Sarah and that's why he can be an asshole. Because he's scared to let you close and lose you." Ellie huffed out a sigh, leaning her head back to look up at you.

"But I'm not her. He can't assume the worst in everything." You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through her hair.

"We know that. Joel has a lot of emotional scars and he hides behind them. But now and then I see the man I met all those years ago, and I know he's in there. We just need to be patient." Ellie shrugged a little.

"No time left if he's making me go with Tommy." She muttered.

"I'll talk to him. Okay?" She shrugged a little, leaning against you again. You sat with Ellie for a little while, until you could feel her relaxing and eventually dozing off. You scooped her up and carefully put her into bed, tucking her in before you headed out. You took a moment before heading to the bedroom, you knocked gently before pushing the door open. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, eyes staring out of the window as he got lost in his thoughts. You moved to sit beside him quietly, his eyes flickering to you before back out of the window.

"You okay?" You ask tentatively, Joel just glanced at you again before sighing.

"I can't do it. I'll get her killed." He finally said after a few beats of silence.

"What? Joel you made it here without getting her killed. Why would it suddenly change now?" Joel sighed, running a hand through his messy curls.

"Because I'm strugglin'. Outside the cabin, it wasn't the cold. It was a panic attack. I felt like my heart was goin' to explode and my body felt like it was vibratin' on high alert. It happened again when you found me in the town square. I'm gettin' too old for this, I can't protect her. She already had to protect me. That damn dog coulda ripped her to pieces and I just couldn't move or do anythin'." You tilted your head slightly as you listened to him, you reached a hand up to gently turn his head so he would look at you.

"You're just scared Joel. You found your brother and he's building a new life. You see Sarah in Ellie and I can tell because I've seen it too. You try to protect yourself by pushing people away but it's not the answer anymore. She needs you." Joel sighed again, he's not frowning anymore. He looked tired and scared. "I know you. You're dealing with a lot of loss and things you don't want to think or talk about. But Ellie is different. She adores you and you adore her. When I see you two together, it takes me back to the restaurant and seeing you and Sarah at that same table you had every time. It's nice. Don't shut yourself off to love because of fear, okay?" You smiled at him and he nodded slightly, exhaling slowly as his shoulders slumped slightly.

"I was pretty harsh with her earlier." You nodded and dropped your hand to squeeze his gently.

"She was really upset. But you two can talk it out in the morning. Take her yourself, she'll appreciate that." Joel's jaw tensed slightly as he thought it over, curling his fingers gently around yours as he did.

"Thank you." He said softly, lifting his gaze to yours as you gave a small smile.

"Any time. Oh and also, you're not too old for shit. You're only in your fifties." You nudged him with a smile, Joel snorting softly and shaking his head.

You sat talking for a while with him, making a plan for how the next part of the journey would go. He wanted you to stay here, keep an eye on things and it would give them more of a reason to come back. Something in his eyes told you he meant more for himself than Ellie but you didn't comment on it. You argued for a bit but eventually gave in and agreed to stay, telling him he'd have to explain to Ellie why. He agreed and seemed to relax a bit more. At some point you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew it, there was sunlight streaming across your face and waking you up. You shifted slightly, realising you were laid on the bed but more importantly there was a weight on your waist. Joel had an arm draped over you, you could feel the gentle puff of his breath against the back of your beck and the warmth coming from him. You smiled to yourself and allowed yourself a few moments to indulge in this. You reached to gently pry his arm from around you so you could get up, but he seemingly noticed and tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer. You smiled to yourself, moving your hand to gently run your fingers over his forearm. Joel stirred, a mumble under his breath but his eyes remained closed as his fingers flexed under your touch. It seemed out of character but also reminded you of the old Joel. Every time you met up there'd be little shows of physical affection, hand holding or prolonged hugs. You had a feeling he enjoyed it as much as you did. Once his grip relaxed again, you carefully extracted yourself from his hold and silently slipped out of the room. You paused by the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. It felt so good to have the domestic necessities like running water and heating. There was something so comforting about the sound of heating turning on and the radiators humming. You were stood in the kitchen making coffee and some food for Joel and Ellie to take when you heard footsteps coming downstairs. Joel appeared in the doorway, already dressed and ready to go.

"I made supplies and coffee." You said softly as you poured the coffee into Joel's thermos. You almost didn't want to look at him and accept they were already going.

"I'm gon' head out early and tack a horse up ready. If she decides she still hates me, I'll just go for a ride to look around the area then come back. Tommy's comin' for her in about an hour." You nodded as you listened, taking Joel's bag from him and putting his food and thermos into it.

"I'll make sure she's ready. Although I thought I heard movement earlier so she may be up." Joel nodded a little, pulling his bag onto his back.

"Thank you for talkin' to me last night, I really appreciate it." You smiled warmly at him, nodding your head.

"Of course Joel, I care about you. I didn't want you doing something you'd regret later down the line." Joel regarded you for a moment before a small smile pulled over his lips.

"I'll see you at the stables?" You nodded, putting the lid on the box you'd packed Ellie's food into.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Once Joel left, you took a moment to see how the silence of the house felt. Wondering if you should have said something about how you felt or if it would have made things awkward. You shook it off as you got dressed for the day, going back downstairs as there was a knock at the door. Tommy gave a little smile as you greeted him.

"I made food for you both." Tommy chuckled a little.

"Domesticated already." He teased, glancing towards the stairs. "She up?" You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Yeah but I think she keeps hoping Joel will come to get her so she hasn't left her room." Tommy sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

"I'll go get her." He said softly, disappearing upstairs. You could hear the muffled noise of him talking to her before they both came back down. You told Ellie about the food, packing it into her bag as well as some bottles of water. She looked sad as she took the bag back and pulled it onto her shoulders.

"Come with us?" You shook your head a little.

"I'm gonna hold down the fort here Ellie. Make sure you have a nice warm home to come back to, I'll even decorate your room for you and make it more Ellie and less Barbie." Ellie opened her mouth to argue but just sighed and accepted it. You watched her before reaching into your pocket, fishing out the bracelet Sarah had made you. You gently took Ellie's hand and slid the bracelet onto her wrist.

"This is a promise you'll come home and I'll be waiting here for you. If you ever feel scared or lost, just remember I'm still here. Okay?" Ellie nodded, running her fingers over the faded plastic beads. She took a moment before wrapping her arms crushingly tight around you, you cuddled her close.

"Go save the world kiddo." You whispered, squeezing her before stepping back. Ellie glanced at Tommy then back to you.

"Come with us as far as the gates at least?" Tommy nodded.

"That'd be nice." He added, Ellie watching you with big hopeful eyes. You agreed and fought to not say anything as those eyes turned to the stairs like she hoped Joel would come down. You pulled your coat on and headed out with her, following Tommy quietly towards the stables. Ellie dragged her feet a little, eyes watching Tommy's footprints in the snow. You wanted to tell her Joel's plan but you didn't want to get her riled up.

To say Ellie was surprised to see Joel in a stable would be an understatement. She threw a biting comment at him before he could explain. Yet, he barely finished giving her his explanation and options before she tossed her bag at him and climbed up onto the horse. Tommy just smiled, proud of his big brother and relieved he didn't have to leave the compound. Joel led the horse out as Tommy gave him directions and an idea of the quickest way to the hospital. You made sure Ellie was comfortable on the horse and had everything while the men talked. You then turned to Joel, his eyes studying your face quietly before he wrapped his arms around you. He'd never hugged you in front of others before and it caused Tommy to raise an eyebrow of curiousity. Especially when Joel pressed a subtle kiss to the side of your head with a whispered promise of coming back soon. He then turned and embraced Tommy tightly. You smiled, arms instinctively wrapping around yourself as you tried to not get upset.

"Look after her. We'll be back soon."

"Yessir." Tommy chuckled, hugging Joel again. There didn't need to be too many words exchanged. This was the scariest part of their journey and it was back to just the two of them. Joel asked to borrow the rifle slung over Tommy's shoulder, the younger immediately handing it over without argument. Joel stayed walking as he lead the horse to the gates, you and Tommy walking beside them. No one really knew what to say as the gates opened and Joel climbed up to sit in front of Ellie. You waved and watched as they went through the opening, Ellie twisting back to keep waving until the gates closed behind them.

"C'mon. Maria made breakfast for us." You blinked at Tommy, frowning curiously. "I had a feelin' he wouldn't let her go."

---

At first it felt strange being alone. You'd been on the road with Joel and Ellie for a couple of months and before that had split your time between Kathleen or Sam and Henry. It was rare you were completely alone. You spent most of your time fixing up the house, decorating it and making it into your dream house you'd always imagined. Granted it was a little difficult with very limited resources but you'd traded a few items here and there to get paint or home decor. You painted Ellie's room a very light grey colour, making a collage of comic book pages on one wall and even found a Marvel blanket tucked away in the general store in town. It had taken four washes to get it looking anything close to new and get rid of the musty smell but now it looked like the perfect finishing touch as you draped it over the bottom of Ellie's bed. You found some other blankets to put on the couch, some books that were still readable and soon the house felt like a real home. Warm and cosy. You spent time with Maria, helping her out with work around the compound. You met a handful of new people, found a sort of routine as you worked to keep your place within Jackson. Tommy took you on a couple of scouting trips or patrols. He was impressed with how well you handled a gun, always able to help with hunting or clearing out any stray infected from nearby areas. Every now and then you'd find little things that you took home for Joel and Ellie for when they returned.

Christmas day crept up on you before you really noticed. You hadn't celebrated in many, many years. But Maria insisted on you coming to hers and Tommys for dinner. She even managed to convince you to go to the small gathering at the Town Hall. It was nice to pretend to be back in the times before the apocalypse happened, have a glass of mulled wine and watch as the kids had a snowball fight tournament. You just wished Joel and Ellie were here with you to see it all. You knew Maria still didn't think very highly of Joel but she never said anything to your face, which you were grateful for. On one of your rides, Tommy had broached the subject of whether there was still something between you and Joel while you stopped for lunch. You shrugged a little, picking at your sandwich.

"I don't know? Sometimes it seems like it used to be but then he disappears back behind his emotional walls again." Tommy shook his head a little.

"Joel never was good with this stuff. Hell, look how long it took me an' Sarah to convince him to ask you out." You snorted, a smile on your face.

"Who knows what'll happen when he comes back, maybe being away will make him think about it. I know Ellie thinks there's something, she's kinda poked at the subject with me but she's closer to Joel and would definitely be a little rougher with him about it." You laughed, leaning back against the tree you were sitting under. Tommy just smiled at you, watching you for a moment.

"I saw it before he left. Didn't wanna say anythin' before but I saw it. The way he used to look at you in the restaurant is exactly how he was lookin' at you in the Jackson restaurant. Then the day they left, saw it again. He's just a stubborn ass an' won't say anythin' out of his own insecurities." You shrugged, finishing your food.

"Well we'll see what happens when he comes home." You packed your things away as Tommy changed the subject to the upcoming New Year's plans. You admitted you were probably just going to stay home, Tommy said Maria wouldn't allow her newest friend to sit alone on New Year's Eve. You just shrugged a little, saying you'd speak to her about it at some point. Even before everything went down, you'd never seen the big deal with big New Year's parties or anything. It just seemed like an excuse for people to drink a lot and grab someone to kiss at midnight. On the ride back, Tommy started talking about the baby and how it would be born soon, how he was excited to be a father. He spoke about how he met Maria and had taken so long to pluck up the courage to ask her out, her response had been 'about damn time' which made you laugh. Tommy and Maria seemed like such a good match. Their energy bounced off of each other and they just aligned perfectly together. It was nice to see love could work in such a fucked up world.

Months passed by and there was still no sign of Joel and Ellie. You couldn't help but get antsy, nervous something happened to them. You kept yourself distracted as best as possible, not dwelling on what if's and worst case scenarios. As the snow melted away and it got a little warmer, you couldn't help but find yourself trying to stop obsessing over their return only to be disappointed every day. You spent the day at Maria's helping her put the baby's crib together, she was stubborn even if she could no longer see her feet and had to take regular breaks. So you'd had to just assist and do the heavy lifting. She packed you some cake she'd been gifted before you left, promising to come by and see you the next morning. You headed out, a hum in your throat as you waved to the neighbour when they passed you on the street. You'd been accepted so easily into the community, never any questions or people digging into your past which you appreciated. It was like a fresh start really, the safe haven you'd always dreamed of tucked away here in Jackson. The sun was setting as you let yourself into the house with a muffled yawn, pausing to pull your shoes off. You walked through to the kitchen to cut yourself some of the cake when something catches your eye. You freeze. A jacket tossed onto the table. Too small to be yours.

"Ellie." You breathed out, dropping everything onto the counter and turning back to rush through the house, scanning the living room for her before racing upstairs - your heart in your throat. There was no sounds, you couldn't help but suddenly worry someone had broken in. You paused outside of her room, slowly pushing the door open as you peered in. There she was. Sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers over the blanket. Ellie. You smiled and stepped into the room, the girl looking up as a floorboard creaked. You stared at each other for a moment before you rushed over and gathered her up into your arms. Ellie let out a choked sob as she clung onto you. You didn't dare to think what had happened out beyond the walls with the way she clung onto you.

"You're home." You leaned back, wiping her cheeks as she nodded, lifting her wrist to show the bracelet still there.

"I had to bring it back, remember?" You laughed and hugged her again, she felt a little thinner but taller. Like she'd had a bit of a growth spurt on the journey.

"I missed you." You said, sitting beside her as you brushed your fingers through her hair. She smiled a little.

"I missed you too. It's… been rough." She replied softly, her eyes on the blanket again. "It didn't work. They stopped looking for a cure apparently." She mumbled, wrinkling her nose. "We went through hell to get there, they put me under and everything but when I woke up, I was in the back of a car and Joel told me it didn't work. We should have just stayed here." She sniffled a little, you watched her.

"You wanna talk about it?" She shook her head, moving to lay back on the bed.

"I just want to sleep for a while." You understood, saying as such as you stood up.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me, okay?" She nodded and pulled the blanket over herself. You paused, desperate to ask her where Joel was, why was she alone, why was the journey so bad but she looked tired. You headed towards her door, pausing for a moment before stepping out.

"Joel's at the infirmary. He got injured while we were out there and I had to stitch him up so he's getting it checked out. He said he'll be home after he sees Tommy." You smiled softly, Ellie knew you too well. You thanked her and stepped out, pulling the door almost closed.

You went back downstairs and cut the cake into three. A little celebration once everyone was home and awake. You chewed on your thumbnail as you paced the living room a few times, glancing at the clock now and then. Ellie was fast asleep and the only noise was your footsteps and the ticking of the wall clock. You couldn't settle, anxiety bubbling away in your chest. After a couple of hours, you walked through to the kitchen to make yourself some tea in the hopes it would calm your nerves. As the water boiled, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing. Your heart stopped as you hear footsteps slowly make their way towards the kitchen, stopping by the doorway. You turned and your eyes fell on Joel. His hair peppered with a few more grey streaks, he looked exhausted and a little pale.

"Welcome home." You said softly, watching him as his eyes met yours and a weak smile worked over his face. You were desperate to just run to him and hold onto him but you didn't want to freak him out.

"It's good to be home." He answered, making his way around the table towards you. He winced a little but once he was close enough, he reached out a hand to you. You bit your lower lip as you took his hand. He was really there. He gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Immediately, you leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his middle. He winced again and you adjusted where you held him. You just stood there like that, your head against his shoulder as you closed your eyes. Finally they were home. Your house felt whole again.

Eventually you pulled back to look up at him, lifting your hands to gently cup his face.

"I'll make you both some dinner. You both look like you need a good meal." You teased gently, Joel nodding and let go of you as you slowly pulled away to turn and rummage through the cupboards to make food. You set to making something as Joel eased himself down into one of the chairs at the table. He was quiet as you worked, and once everything was cooking you handed him a mug of coffee and sat down across from him.

"Everything okay?" You asked softly. "Ellie said you went straight to the infirmary to get checked out?" Joel swallowed as he nodded.

"We got jumped as we got into the University grounds. I grabbed a guy to defend us and he stabbed me with his broken wooden bat. I don't remember much between that and waking up to having to fight for my life and Ellie's. She took care of me, stitched me up and apparently traded a deer for penicillin. I found her in an abandoned ski lodge place, she…" He paused, taking a breath. "She didn't want to talk about what happened to her. But I can take a damn good guess given her reaction when I found her." He paused again, his jaw clenching slightly as his fingers tightened around his mug. You watched him, he didn't need to say anything else on that subject. You got it. "I tried to keep her spirits up, encouragin' her to tell those puns, told her some more about me, told her about Sarah's cupcake plan with you and a few other things. We had an amazing moment as we found some giraffes. Ellie fed them and she seemed to perk up." He smiled a little, going on to explain other parts of their journey until the Fireflies captured them. You blinked, Ellie hadn't mentioned that. Joel explained Marlene had been there, she'd just set the wheel's in motion and had just expected Joel to walk away and leave Ellie in the hospital. You blinked as you watched him, jumping up when a pan boiled over. You grabbed it and checked nothing had burnt, straining out the pasta before checking the sauce you'd been making as well. You dropped some crudely made homemade meatballs in and let it all simmer before sitting down.

"What happened Joel?" You asked, Joel frowning a little as he paused and glanced towards the stairs. Hearing nothing he turned back to you and lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.

"They were goin' to kill her. She had no say in it. All this time we thought it was her blood but… it's her brain." He replied, your eyes going wide as you sank back in your chair. "I couldn't let 'em do it. I couldn't lose another daughter. I just saw red… I don't wanna think how many Fireflies I shot that day. But I was not leavin' there without Ellie. Selfish, I know. I'm a terrible person. Givin' up all of humanities chance of a cure to save one girl. But I couldn't do it." He watched you closely as he spoke, like he expected you to jump up and yell or get angry or something. But you didn't.

"I would have been more angry if you'd have left her there." Was your reply, Joel looking relieved as you said it. "Ellie said it didn't work. They stopped looking for a cure?" Joel shook his head.

"I told her that so she wouldn't hate me if I told her the truth. She was crushed but… at least she's alive." You nodded a little, chewing your lower lip as you thought about it all. Everything he was admitting, everything they'd been through. You understood completely. You reached out across the table and took one of Joel's hands in yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

"You aren't a terrible person. If you are then so am I because I'd have done the exact same thing. It wasn't fair she didn't know what would happen to her, that she didn't have a say in whether she went through with it or not. She'll be fine, she'll be upset for a few days but she'll be back to herself eventually. I'm sure of it." You nodded, Joel giving a non-commital noise in response, his eyes dropping to your hands as he laced his fingers with yours. You both fell quiet, your mind taking you back to the first time you'd sat like this in a café. Holding hands, sharing a slice of cake and talking for hours. You looked up and found Joel looking at you. He opened his mouth to speak when Ellie's voice from the doorway broke the moment.

"Something smells fucking amazing." She mumbled, rubbing at her eyes as she shuffled in. You smiled warmly, reluctantly letting go of Joel's hand to stand up and check everything.

"How do you have the perfect timing? It's all ready!" You smiled again, moving to plate everything up. Ellie asked Joel how he was and he asked her the same. What they'd been through had bonded them, something made them stronger than ever and you had a feeling it wasn't just the night in the hospital.

After dinner, Joel excused himself to take a shower and Ellie stayed to help you clean up. You washed while she dried everything.

"He told me about you two." She suddenly said as you handed her the last pan. You blinked and watched her, Ellie glancing up at you before shaking her head. "About Sarah's cupcake plan, your little coffee dates and how the night it all went down was his birthday and you'd promised to make him breakfast but the world went to shit. He definitely still cares about you like that but he's too chicken to tell you. And you're too chicken to tell him." She shook her head again. "Adults are weird man, you act like kids when it comes to stuff like this!" She handed you the pan back once it was dry. You laughed and moved to put the pan into the cupboard.

"Because there's more important things going on at the moment Ellie. It seems trivial in the grand scheme of things to be like 'hey by the way, I still like you' while we're setting up home here." Ellie rolled her eyes.

"Nothing is trivial." She suddenly sounded much older as she watched you. "Don't tell him I told you this but… He almost killed himself before he was tasked with looking after me. He basically said you and me, we keep him going. So I think the 'hey I still like you' might be a good conversation to have. If he spoke to me about it openly then it means something to him, clearly you too, and that means it isn't trivial." She nodded, watching you closely. "Don't ever repeat this but I love you both and it makes sense. Stop being babies." She grinned, waving her damp towel at you. "Just don't be gross around me, I might barf." You stared at her wide-eyed, suddenly feeling like the roles were reversed and she was the adult talking to teenage you about relationships. Ellie grinned a little, changing the subject to the cake she'd spotted sat on the counter. Your head was spinning from the whole conversation as you plated up a slice of cake for her and handed it over.

"I'm glad to be home." She said after taking it from you, smiling softly as she handed over your bracelet as well. You took it, your fingers gently playing with the beads before you remember the one you'd made her at one of the craft sessions in the town hall Maria had dragged you to.

"Wait here." You grinned, heading out to where your backpack hung in the hallway and rummaging in one of the pockets. You fished out the braided bracelet and went back, asking for Ellie's hand. Once she held it out, you tied the bracelet around her wrist. She lifted her arm to look at it with a soft smile. In the middle were two beads, each one had your initials on.

"It's kinda childish but… I wanted to make one for us as well." You smiled, rolling up your sleeve to show the matching one. Ellie grinned at it before trying to keep her cool composure.

"Totally childish. But I love it." She grabbed her cake and started eating it. Again the subject changing to how long it had been since she'd had cake, telling you some stories from when she was at the Fedra and her one attempt at baking. You'd almost forgotten how Ellie could make your head spin with her constant topic changing. But you were just glad to have her home again, her cheesy puns and laughter making the house instantly feel lighter.

"I'm glad I know sign language." She started, leaning back in her chair to pause for dramatic effect, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried not to grin as the punchline formed on the tip of her tongue.

"I bet that's become real handy." Came Joel's voice from the doorway, Ellie slammed her hands on the table as she laughed.

"You dick! That's the second time you've done that to me!" She was still laughing as Joel came in, finally in clean and comfortable clothing. He smiled at her, ruffling her hair as he passed her.

"Couldn't resist." You laughed at them both, Ellie puffing her cheeks out in frustration as she not-so-discreetly thumbed through the book on her lap for another one to hit him with.

"You wanna hear a joke about pizza?" She grinned before continuing. "Nevermind, it's too cheesy." You snorted, Joel shaking his head as he made himself another coffee.

"I coulda sworn we left that book with the giraffes." Ellie just grinned again as she pointed at you.

"Someone got me a new one and left it in my room." Joel looked at you, deadpan.

"Gee. Thanks." You just looked up at him, giving a grin.

"You're welcome." You winked at him and turned back to Ellie. She flicked through the book, glad to see pages her other book had been missing were there. The cover itself was battered but the pages themselves were all there and still legible.

After a couple more puns, Ellie eventually headed upstairs to take a bath. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you dug out a bottle of whiskey Tommy and Maria had gifted you for Christmas. You grabbed two glasses and went through to the living room where Joel sat on the couch.

"I don't know if the doc gave you any medicine, but I can guarantee this will help any aches and pains." You held up the bottle as Joel looked up. A smile worked over his face.

"You wonderful, wonderful woman." You chuckled and moved to sit beside him, pouring you both a drink before handing a glass over.

"To being reunited. Again." You smiled warmly, holding up your glass in a salute. Joel nodded, gently clinking his glass against yours.

"To bein' re-reunited." A hum left your throat as you took a sip and leaned back in your seat, folding your legs underneath yourself as you went over what Ellie said earlier and whether to mention it to Joel or not.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours?" Joel's voice brought you back to the present, you looked over at him for a moment before you shrugged a little, pushing a hand through your hair.

"Just something Ellie said earlier." Joel tilted his head slightly, clearly curious and maybe a little nervous given what they'd been through. You paused, pursing your lips a little. "Nothing is trivial. Is what she said… sometimes that girl is wise beyond her years I swear." You chuckled, Joel nodding in agreement.

"She's had to grow up real fast."

"Seems a shame she never really had time to just be a kid. Do the dumb things we did as kids and just… grow up playing outside and going to a real school."

"She seems happy, for the most part." Joel added. "Aside from some of the shit she's dealt with this past year. But why'd she say that nothin' is trivial?" You wrinkled your nose a little, your eyes lowering to the glass in your hands.

"She, uh, was telling me about some of the things you two spoke of. How you told her how you and I met, the cupcake scandal and our coffee dates. She was talking about how we should talk about it and I said in the grand scheme of everything lately, it might seem trivial to suddenly bring up our past. But she insisted that if you'd spoken about it, then it wasn't. And that nothing is trivial really. I didn't even know she knew what that word meant till then." You laughed nervously, licking your lips as Joel stayed quiet. You suddenly regretted being so open as the silence weighed heavy on your shoulders. You took a sip of the whiskey, not daring to look up at Joel now. "I think she was just emptying her thoughts, considering it's been a few months since we were all together." You added, your voice quiet as you took Joel's silence as a quiet rejection of the topic. You almost jumped when he cleared his throat before speaking.

"Do you still think about it? Our past?" He asked softly, you took a breath before nodding.

"From time to time. There's moments where I'll catch myself reminiscing. Like earlier when you let me hold your hand over the table while we talked. It reminded me of that tiny coffee shop we found down one of the side-streets back home."

"I remember that one. The barista looked offended I only wanted a black coffee after he bragged about the flavoured syrups for ten minutes." You laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, he was definitely trying the hard sell that day." A quiet fell over you both again, your eyes still on your glass as you bit back the urge to ask the main question on your mind, trying to work out what he might say or what options you had if he didn't still feel the same. He was so guarded now, not as easy to read. There was no awkward shyness, no attempts at his lame but adorable flirting or anything. You heard him say your name, your muscles tensing subtly as you prepared for the blow. He repeated your name again and you realised he wanted you to look at him. Slowly you lifted your gaze and looked over at Joel. His gaze soft, his face relaxed and as open as you'd ever seen it with a hint of the nervousness you'd seen glimpses of in passing.

"Do… do you have any of those feelin's anymore?" He asked, holding your gaze and you knew you couldn't lie. You nodded a little, feeling your cheeks flush slightly. He hummed quietly, lifting a hand to rub it against his stubble as he thought for a moment. "I've done some real shitty things to survive in this world. I shut everyone out when I lost Sarah. I didn't believe anythin' good could happen in this world anymore. Ellie reopened my heart to that paternal love, showin' me it was okay to care for someone else. Then somehow I walked into that house in Kansas City and found my past starin' at me from the dark. I couldn't fuckin' believe it." He paused to take a drink. "I ain't a good man. Not the same man who sat with you by Lake Travis." You sighed softly.

"But you are Joel. I see him in how you watch Ellie so closely, I see him in the moments your ninety foot tall barriers slip, I see him when you instinctively reach out for my hand when you're overwhelmed. You're still him, just a little older and more guarded with your heart. I see you and your scars and my heart still races like it did the first time you spoke to me. I get ridiculously nervous sometimes around you but not out of being afraid of you, but being afraid that I'll open my mouth and everything will just come tumbling out before I can stop it… kinda like now." Joel fell quiet, you could tell he was processing it and trying to see things from your perspective. You moved to top up both of your glasses, placing the bottle on the small coffee table before sinking back in your seat. "Look. I'm not expecting anything or asking for everything to pick up where we left it off twenty years ago. I just … wanted to be honest and if it's not something you want or feel anymore then, I can accept that." Your voice was soft, trying to not get too emotional as you opted to take another drink to stop yourself saying more.

"Fuck that. I almost died three months ago, and I realised I'd die not bein' honest with you, Ellie, Tommy or myself. So after that, I was more open with her. Told her how much she meant to me. I've apologised to Tommy and said how I actually am happy for him. And now I'm tellin' you that you absolutely do make me feel the same way you did back in 2013." You blinked, looking up at him, a smile playing over Joel's lips. He put his glass down, took yours and placed it with his then held his hands out to you. You took a breath and slid your hands into his, feeling his fingers curl around yours. "It won't be easy. I'm still tryin' to open up and not think about just me and my survival. But if you can be patient with me, I'd be more than happy to pick up where we left off." Your eyes went wide as you stared up at him, feeling Joel's thumbs trace idle patterns over the backs of your hands.

"Joel…I…Only if you're sure." Joel chuckled a little, lifting your hands to brush a kiss to your knuckles - the same way he always used to do and suddenly you were thirty years old again, shyly standing outside of the restaurant as Joel picked you up after your shift to spend his lunch break with you.

"The only thing I've ever been more sure of was gettin' Ellie outta that hospital." You smiled softly, Joel resting his cheek against your fingers.

"I'll only believe you on one condition." Joel blinked, confusion flickering across his face.

"What's that?" You smiled, glancing down briefly before looking back at him.

"You give me the kiss I've waited over twenty years for." Joel paused before a laugh bubbled in his throat. There he was, your relaxed and comfortable Joel from 2013.

"It'd be my pleasure." He replied as he tugged your hands gently so you could rest them on his shoulders, encouraging you closer as he leaned in and met you halfway. Finally, finally his lips met yours in the sweetest kiss you'd ever had. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you slid your arms around his shoulders properly and pressed close, the kiss deepening and your senses were flooded with Joel in the best way.

When you eventually broke the kiss, Joel rest his forehead against yours.

"Worth the wait." He muttered, brushing a final kiss to your lips. You smiled and moved to cuddle close to him, nuzzling your face against his neck.

"Definitely worth the wait." You repeated, melting into his embrace with a content sigh.

"I almost did it that mornin' we left for the University but I chickened out. I didn't wanna give you mixed messages and I wasn't too sure if you still felt the same." You snorted softly and leaned back to look at him.

"Joel, we literally shared a bed for the first time and we were actually cuddled up when I woke up. Although I can guarantee if you'd kissed me that morning, there'd have been no way I was staying here alone after that." He huffed out a laugh, lifting a hand to brush his fingers through your hair.

"Fair points." He nodded, he finally looked completely relaxed, that sparkle back in his dark eyes and a smile on his lips. You finished your drinks, Joel keeping one arm around you so you could stay cuddled up against his side, and eventually headed to bed. You felt a little nervous suddenly but Joel insisted it was fine to share the bed again once you offered to take the couch. Joking he'd be offended if you suddenly slept on the couch. You both got ready for bed and once under the covers, immediately found each other again; Joel cuddling you against his chest. You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat and finally felt happy.

Your bubble of bliss was loudly burst the next morning by Ellie wandering in, looking for you. Only for her to yell "fucking finally!!" at seeing the two of you cuddled up together. Joel grumbled something and tossed one of the pillows at the door to close it again; immediately cuddling you close again and pressing sleepy kisses to your shoulder.

"She needs to learn to knock." He muttered, squeezing you gently as you hummed in agreement and slid your hand along his arm to lace your fingers with his. Welcoming the warm comfort of sleep pulling you back in mixed with the wonderful feeling in the pit of your stomach as Joel nuzzled against your shoulder and held you tightly. Domestic bliss amongst a world gone to shit.

[milkywayes]

Get to know your fanfic writer!

Tagged by @callista-curations! Thank u I’m weirdly excited about getting tagged in a writing meme

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

must have been in like 2009

First Character(s) you wrote?

pretty sure it was a twilight fic LMAO so uh, hashtag team jacob

Main Character(s) you’re currently writing?

garrus vakarian and femshep

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan to write about soon?

n/a I’m so deep in my shakarian hole rn.

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing?

mass effect, but I still have an unfinished tloz fic I want to finish and I have a star trek aos longfic WIP

Platonic pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

none unless you count some regular background friendships

Romantic pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

femshep/garrus, botw link/zelda, kirk/mccoy

Your top AO3 tags?

gotta be angst.

Current platform you use for posting?

ao3. the only respectable option nowadays

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

a hard pick but this is from one of the couple scenes that lives in my head rent-free

“Garrus.” She can’t listen to him clinging to that lie; it’ll only make it worse for him in the end. “It was the implants. Not some supreme force of will.” “Wasn’t it?” he challenges. “None of what we did could’ve been done without your supreme force of will. And I had asked you to.” He pauses. “Or do you want to tell me that didn’t factor in, the same way it doesn’t factor in now? That it’s always been—” he waves his free hand—“this, between us?” It had factored in. She’s not about to tell him that, though something on her face must have held meaning to him: after a second of watching her, his posture changes completely. His shoulders droop, and the rest of him follows. Only his eyes stay firm and unyielding, fixed on hers like laser sights. Red dots on her brow, her heart. He can read her like nobody else, but she’s still somehow surprised when he asks, “Do you resent me? For asking you to live?”

I tag @westernlarch @lilmissnatcat24 @that-wildwolf <3

[ghostofaboy]

Rock Bottom - Group Activity

Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.

Tilly wants to show Frankie one of the videos he collected from Gavin.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 2382 Chapter: 23/?

Warnings: Dubious consent, group sex, gangbang, anal sex, mentions of past drug use, double anal penetration

Note: This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Part 22 / Part 1 / Masterpost

As the weeks turned into months, Frankie’s new reality slowly took shape. Having finished his notice at Malcolm’s repair shop, Frankie was now working full time for Tilly. While that mostly meant days spent in the garage tending to the classic cars or services some of Tilly’s regular vehicles, Frankie was now providing his other service more regularly as well.

Almost every weekend was spent at Tilly’s now. Usually just the Saturday, where Tilly would fuck him for a while before they both got on with the rest of their weekend. However, there was the odd time Tilly wanted him Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Those were usually for the more intense sessions, where Tilly would spend hours opening Frankie’s ass up to take a massive dildo or a fist. Thankfully, whenever one of those weekends was on the horizon, Tilly gave Frankie plenty of notice.

Things with Tyler were going well, and Frankie looked forward to precious moments with his young boyfriend. On the weekends he wasn’t with Tilly, Frankie would go to Tyler’s where they would spend every hour wrapped up together. Sometimes Frankie would help Tyler set up for a shoot, but more often than not they’d spend their time with one of them balls deep in the other. Sex with Tyler was always fun, filled with laughter and kisses; the complete opposite of sex with Tilly.

Then there was rehab, which Frankie was due to start soon. The program Will had found for him had sent him a pack through, detailing when and where he would be expected to attend each week. Finally, things with Benny seemed normal again. They had hung out a couple of times, with Will there, but Benny hadn’t brought up anything that Frankie had told him. Frankie was honestly grateful for that. As far as he was concerned, Benny already knew too much about his shameful bullshit. But, all in all, life looked pretty stable; from the outside.

Internally, Frankie was as anxious as ever. He knew, logically, Tilly was not a good person. Although he’d never seen any evidence of that himself, with Tilly treating him with care and affection, Frankie knew that this was not a man to cross. But for now, Frankie had to play the game. He had to open his legs on command and deal with it. At least until he could put together a plan.

After tidying his tools away, Frankie made his way into the main house at Tilly’s estate. His stomach growled quietly, eager for his lunch, as Frankie ducked into the downstairs bathroom to wash the oil and grime from his hands. He had kept meaning to ask Tilly if he could get a sink put in the garage, but so far the request had slipped his mind. 

Drying his hands, Frankie opened the bathroom door and was about to return to the garage when he heard someone in the kitchen. Pausing for a moment to listen, Frankie strained to hear who was speaking. Tilly was meant to be at his office until five, but the more Frankie heard, the more he was sure it was Tilly.

As the voice got louder, Frankie wasn’t sure whether to stay and listen or leave as it became obvious that it was Tilly and that he was talking about Frankie.

“...you’d love him. Fantastic ass. Yeah? I mean, I can only ask.” Tilly gave a hearty laugh. “I don’t own the guy. Look, I’ll ask then if it’s a go I’ll set everything up. Ok, yeah. Ok. I gotta go. Talk to you later, Ian.”

Frankie could hear Tilly coming out of the kitchen and quickly dipped back into the bathroom. He could hear Tilly’s footstep pass the bathroom and the door to Tilly home office open. After a few seconds, Frankie didn’t hear the door close, so taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out.

“Frankie?” Tilly called out immediately. His cheerful voice ringing out from the other room, the sound of it making Frankie’s cock react instantly.

“Hey.” Frankie ducked into the office to find Tilly stood by the window looking out onto the back garden. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Yeah.” Tilly smiled, shrugging as he closed the gap between them. “Wasn’t in the mood to stay cooped up in the office. Besides, I wanted to see you, although I was going to wait until you’d finished today.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Frankie could feel his cock hardening and his face started to heat up. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved the effect Tilly had on his dick.

“I wanted to give you an update on the videos young Gavin took of you.” Tilly reached out, stroking along Frankie’s jaw as he spoke, his eyes drifting down his body. “I’ve had him tracking them all down. He’s been giving them to me, and yesterday he assured me that he’s found them all.”

“How many were there?” Frankie murmured as Tilly’s hand crept down his torso.

“A lot.” Tilly grinned as he cupped Frankie through his jeans, his thumb running along the length of his erection. “Most were of you and him, pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. You know, lots of oral, anal, and many, many close-ups of Gavin’s own cock. But there were a few of you with others. Would you like to see some of them?”

Frankie’s eyes snapped to Tilly’s as his heart jumped into his throat. “You have them here?”

“Of course Frankie.” Tilly locked eyes with him as he started to unfasten Frankie’s jeans. “I have to keep them safe. Can’t have them floating around out there for just anyone to watch. Why don’t you take your clothes off while I pick out something for us to watch?”

Frankie’s hands moved on their own, pulling off his clothes as Tilly keyed in the code to his safe and pulled out an external hard drive. Tilly went and sat at his desk, connecting the drive to his computer as Frankie removed the last of his clothes. His cock was achingly hard, longing to be touched, but Frankie waited patiently until Tilly was ready.

“There.” Tilly smiled, pulling open his own trousers to expose his twitching girthy dick. “Almost ready, bend over for me, Frankie.”

Frankie moved closer, leaning over the desk and spreading his legs as wide as he could. He could hear Tilly opening and closing a drawer. Frankie knew what was in that drawer, this wasnt the first time he’d been bent over this desk. Sure enough, the familiar sound of the click of cap could be heard before Tilly’s lubricated fingers entered him slowly.

Frankie let out a soft gasp as what felt like two of Tilly thick fingers plunged into his ass and began pumping. Frankie didn’t need to be prepped too much, but he knew Tilly loved to watch anything in his ass. Dildos, plugs, fingers were all regularly inserted into him, along with a few unusual things from time to time. A beer bottle, a candle and a cucumber had also been used on him over some of the more intensive weekends at Tilly’s.

After fingering Frankie for a few minutes, Tilly tapped him on the ass cheek. That was Frankie’s signal to move, to come and sit on his cock. Swinging his leg over Tilly’s knees, Frankie positioned himself, allowing Tilly to ready his dick before guiding Frankie down onto it. Inch by inch, Tilly filled him until Frankie was fully seated on Tilly and his back flush against Tilly’s chest. 

“Are you ready?” Tilly reached forward towards his keyboard, shifting inside Frankie as he did, pulling a moan from both of them. “I picked one of my favorites.”

“Ready.” Frankie growled, his eyes moving to the monitor in front of them.

The video began as soon as Tilly pressed enter, filling the screen with what looked like a frat party. Groups of half naked young men were laughing and drinking while sucking each other off as the camera wandered through the party. Two large jocks were spit roasting a skinny blond guy on the dirty carpet, making the cameraman laugh, and Frankie recognized the voice: Gavin.

As Gavin continued on, the camera started to focus on a larger group in the kitchen, stood in a circle around a figure on the floor. Frankie’s heart started to pound in his ears, and his cock throbbed as he realized who he was looking at. As Tilly bucked up gently, urging Frankie to move, Frankie watched as his own naked form came into view on the screen. Past Frankie was on all fours getting fucked by a sweat covered frat boy, surrounded by about eight or nine others all in various states of undress masturbating furiously over him.

From of the look of him Past Frankie had already been fucked several times that night. Come spattered his face and body as he gasped, moaned and laughed. The guy fucking him finished, pulling out and Gavin zoomed the camera in on Past Frankie’s gaping ass. The crowd cheered as Past Frankie pushed a thick load of come out of his ruined asshole, laughing as it dripped onto his balls before pooling on the floor.

“Look at you.” Tilly whispered in his ear, reaching up to play with Frankie’s nipples. “You know how many I’ve watched this? You look fucking amazing and we’re not even at the best part.”

Frankie rolled his hips, relishing the growing heat inside him as he watched frat boy after frat boy fuck him in the video. The sound of skin against skin almost drowned out the sounds of moaning on the screen as Frankie rode Tilly. His cock bounced, gently tapping his stomach as Frankie let Tilly split him open while Past Frankie was spit roasted on the grimy frat house tiles. 

The screen went black for a moment before flickering back to life, this time in a bedroom. Frankie felt Tilly’s breathing start to pick up as his hands went to Frankie’s hips. This must be his favorite part, but all Frankie could see right now was Gavin switching the camera between his own face and a very young looking student blowing him. 

Tilly was thrusting up into Frankie now, his fingers gripping his hips as Frankie tried to focus through the intoxicating feeling spreading through his body. He wanted to watch the rest of the video, he needed to see what he used to do. He had no memory of this night, but it looked like he enjoyed himself, judging by the grinning and laughing.

Tilly was getting close to finishing and Frankie knew it, as he frantically fucked up into Frankie. Keeping his eyes glued to the screen, Frankie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp as Past Frankie finally came into focus.

Gangbanged. Frankie remembered Gavin saying something about letting a bunch of frat boys gangbang him. Hearing it had been one thing but seeing it here in front of him was something else.

Past Frankie was sandwiched between two guys on his back, both their dicks stretching his wrecked asshole, with his head hanging backwards. Three more guys were taking turns fucking his throat while he held a cock in each hand. In total, seven guys were fucking Past Frankie at once, with more watching over their shoulders. His body was stained with come, with clumps in his hair and mustache. His legs were held open, displaying his hard cock bouncing with each thrust of the men as his body was used for all to see.

With a loud, strangled cry, Frankie came, shooting thick ropes over Tilly’s desk and monitor. His vision swam for a moment as the shockwaves overtook him, before Frankie slumped back, leaning against Tilly as he tried to catch his breath. Behind him, he heard Tilly let out a low, throaty groan and could feel the hot seed filling his ass. 

For a few moments they sat there breathing heavily with nothing filling the silence except the obscene moans coming from the video still playing in the monitor. The frat boys were switching places, moving around Past Frankie, shifting him as they needed, before filling him with their cocks.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed watching it as much as me.” Tilly purred into his ear, leaning forward to hit pause. The still close up of Past Frankie’s hole stuffed with two cocks filled the wide monitor. “I love this one. Love watching take all that dick.”

“Fuck.” Frankie panted out, slowly standing up, feeling Tilly’s shaft leaving his ass. “I don’t remember any of that. But…” He trailed off as he rounded the desk, looking out towards the window.

“But you found it a turn on?” Tilly stood up, not bothering to tuck himself away. “Would you want to do something like that again? When you’re sober, so you can remember?”

“I don’t know.” Frankie murmured, looking out over the garden. He could feel Tilly come up behind him and push a finger into Frankie’s come filled ass. Arching his back, Frankie let out a soft moan. His cock was hanging limply, but he knew that wouldn’t stop Tilly and his libido. 

“I have some friends. I’ve told them a little about you, nothing that could identify you, of course.” Tilly pushed in a second finger, pushing some of the come inside Frankie’s hole out. “We could have a little party. It’d be a better fuck than drunk frat boys.”

“I mean…” Frankie couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, giving Tilly better access, resting his arms and forehead against the cool glass of the window. “It was… hot… sexy… I looked like I was having fun.”

“You were.” Tilly cooed, and Frankie could feel a third finger being pumped into him, pushing more come out to run down his leg. “I’ve watched everything Gavin has given me. You always look like you’re having the time of your life. It would be me and four friends. Nothing would be recorded.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” Frankie stammered as Tilly removed his sticky fingers. 

“That’s all I ask.” Tilly grabbed Frankie hip, turning Frankie to face him. “Now, come on upstairs. I’m ready for something a little more substantial.”

[devirnis]

get to know your fic writer + wip snippet

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon <3

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

2006 to a site called Ficwad, before I discovered fanfiction.net

First character(s) you wrote for:

Delilah and Julius from the niche Canadian cartoon Delilah & Julius

Main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

Buck & Eddie from 9-1-1

Character(s) you plan on writing about soon:

Not that I have plans to write about them again soon, but Baird & Sam from Gears of War will always hold a special place in my heart

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

9-1-1

Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Buck & Bobby, Buck & Maddie

Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Buck/Eddie

Your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Getting Together

Your current platform where you post your works:

AO3

Snippet of the WIP you’re currently working on:

“You’re killing me, Buck,” Lucy pouts. “You gotta loosen up once in a while.” “I promise we will go out again after the Christmas rush is done.” “I’ll hold you to that. I throw a rocking New Year’s Eve party, you should actually come this year. Invite Eddie, kiss him at midnight.” “Can’t,” Buck says. “He’s flying back to Texas tomorrow night for the holidays.”

Lucy scoffs. “Of course you know that. Okay, guess I better go do my actual job before Gerrard writes me up.” Buck waves her off, and finishes putting away the last of the cookware. He probably could have gone out with Lucy tonight, but besides his volunteer gig, Buck has something planned later that he’s been looking forward to all week. It’s the thought of the ingredients at home in the kitchen to try his hand at the latest Chef Nash recipe that keeps Buck buoyed for the rest of his shift. 

if you wanna @bigfootsmom @try-set-me-on-fire @dijkstraspath @messyhairdiaz @daffi-990 @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @callaplums 💜

[likes-words-and-shrimp]

Small update on writing projects and other things so I can gather my thoughts and also hopefully feel more organized. Mostly about Symphonia, with small mentions of Adventure Time, Deltarune, Elden Ring and Dragonlance (tell me if you know this book series plz)

Still working on my Lloyd and Mithos fic which I shared a wip of here. It's slow going because it's going to involve some decent amount of dialogue and my brain is too ADHD right now for it. Thank you for those who shared interest in it! I want to finish this god help me.

Want to update my Wolf Bite fic (which is werewolf!Lloyd and Colette as Red Riding Hood) for this Halloween. I've started a chapter to continue the verse and also werewolf Lloyd is too cute. Plz look at this art by @frayed-symphony for my previous chapters that I still go crazy over.

I also want to write something for one of those October prompt events. There's a lot of them! Let me! Choose! One! I just want to make one, preferable spicy.

Speaking of October prompts, I still have this Colette time loop fic made for whumptober last year that I never finished, which was using all 31 prompts. I got over halfway! Then things happened. They always happen. 😔 I want to get to the happy ending already.

Finished Adventure Time with Sky, and now I am obsessed with a mentally-ill lemon guy. Can I write him?? Is there a point to write him?? But I also finished Fionna and Cake and now I have a small idea with the genderswap versions of him and Lumpy Space Princess (new ship). Might try it soon. And yes I will be reblogging a lot of art for this show, let me ride it out.

I am still thinking about that Deltarune Spamton fic I started like two years ago. I did have a plot but again, life happened. I'd need to reread it too. You'd think I had a problem with finishing multichapters!! Haha. 🥲 But I was able to finish my last multichapter fic so I can do it! Just gotta be lucky. I also had another short story idea with him and Jevil, and the main three. Maybe I can get to it when Deltarune finally gets chapter 3 in about five years from now lol.

The Elden Ring zine I was in finally arrived for me! It's cool seeing my fic in print 😭 I'll share later on but it's been fun being on these zine projects lately. My fic was about the Omen brothers because I have a thing for twins apparently.

Not fic but there is a new Dragonlance book by the Weis and Hickman duo?? After nearly a decade?? I saw the ebook for it on sale and immediately picked it up. This series was my gateway into writing so it does feel nostalgic to go back to this world. Only one chapter read so far (with whole new characters this time) but W&H have a knack for being really engaging in their writing. Even for their past stories when I didn't care for a plot, I still tend to finish their books.

Oh yeah, I'm also on bluesky. I use it sometimes maybe.

[vera-deville]

Vera's Hauntober 2023

Day 8 - Lantern (Katsuki Bakugou)

10/04/2023 - 10/06/2023

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 574

Warnings: Cursing, courtesy of Bakugou

Gender: AFAB

Taglist: @animusicnerd, @leonistic, @pyroxeene, @savanaclaw1996, @thequeenoffishburrito, @ellssbellss, @reshi-galaxy, @hanafubukki, @hitoshislover, @purplecandything

Notes: Can be considered a sequel to this fic, but can also be read as a stand alone!

"C'mon Katsuki!" Y/N yelled, pulling said blonde's arm.

Deja vu.

That's what this felt like. But Bakugou knew where he had witnessed this scene before. It wasn't too long ago, actually. In fact, it was just a week prior that his lovely girlfriend had dragged him out to a pumpkin patch to pick out pumpkins and also subsequently saw and dragged him to a corn maze at the farm, which he ended up burning down-

But that's a story for another day.

Right now, Bakugou had one main goal. No scratch that, three main goals. He had to make sure that they finished carving out the pumpkins as quickly as they could, make sure that Y/N didn't have any accidents with the sharp utensils they'd be using, and make sure that the two of them got to cuddle afterwards.

Simple enough goals.

"Okay, so I'm going to hand you a Sharpie, and you're going to sketch out the general faces and stuff onto the pumpkins, okay?" Y/N instructed Bakugou.

"I'm not a fucking child, I know what to do dumbass," Katsuki huffed.

"Just saying~"

And so the pair got to work on decorating their pumpkins. Y/N kept a watchful eye on Katsuki, making sure that he didn't butcher the faces, and was pleasantly surprised to see that his faces were actually decent. Meanwhile, Katsuki kept a watchful eye on Y/N, making sure that she didn't cut her hands or something, and was pleasantly surprised to see that she hadn't done anything of the sort.

Pretty quickly, Bakugou finished drawing the faces on the pumpkins and turned to Y/N, asking her to hand over the utensils he'd need to scoop out the flesh from the pumpkins and start carving them out.

Y/N had her "spooky" playlist playing on her phone which was sat in some obscure corner of the table. They sat in comfortable silence, doing their respective jobs, and occasionally, Y/N would talk about whatever crossed her mind, and Katsuki would listen.

"What do you think of this one?" Y/N asked, holding up the pumpkin she'd been working on. Looking at the thing, Bakugou couldn't help but feel the corners of his lips twitch.

The face was lopsided (purposefully so). It had a silly expression which if anyone else had carved the pumpkin, Bakugou would have straight up said looked stupid, but it was made by Y/N. It still looked stupid, but it was admittedly funnier.

"Now for the best part!" Y/N squealed.

Raising an eyebrow, Bakugou awaited further explanation.

"The candles~" Y/N pulled out a whole box of artificial candles. "We're going to use these fake candles for most of the pumpkins, but for some of the ones that we'll keep inside the house, we'll use real candles." Bakugou nodded along, already assembling the candles into their respective pumpkins.

It didn't take too long for the two of them to finish placing the candles, and much less time to actually prop up the jack o' lanterns wherever Y/N had decided to prop them up in.

Gently tugging Bakugou's arm, Y/N lead him to the sofa. Lying down on the sofa, Y/N said, "c'mere babe," and opened her arms wide for the blonde to nestle into her figure. He let her run her fingers through his scalp, the feeling warm and pleasant as he eventually dozed off to sleep.

Author's Note: I want me a Katsuki in real life but we all know that ain't happening anytime soon-

As I mentioned before, this is a sequel of sorts to the first day of this Hauntober event, and I really wanted to make it about jack o' lanterns. There were a few other ideas I had for the lantern concept, but of course the pumpkins won me over (and so did Katsuki), so here I am.

I've gotta say, I'm happy with how far I'm coming with Hauntober (even if the fics are a lot smaller than what I'm typically used to writing), and I can't wait to write the rest of the prompts!

See you in the next fic!

Masterlist Hauntober 2023 Masterlist