#here's to hoping tomorrow will be more productive writing wise

[direwombat]

didn't get to do any writing today (rip) but i did do some cleaning and other errands, so now it's time to put on silence of the lambs and spend some time in indesign copying over the italics for the fic i'm gonna bind :)

[foxymoxynoona]

Amended Short: Halloween Night, Zombie Parents Edition

Um... I thought I had a drabble request for Amended Jungkook and the baby but I don't see one in my inbox... but I was inspired to write this Halloween night after I took my kids trick or treating so here ya go!

Story: after Amended Characters: Jungkook, Isabella, new baby Words: 5635 CW: references to childbirth, birth complications/sick baby, lots of detail about breastfeeding and nipple pain (not in a sexy way LOL)

The house was stunningly quiet. The silence was loud, the lack of activity so obvious and unusual it hummed in Jungkook’s ears. After almost two weeks of nonstop, it was disorienting, that sudden stillness. He stood in the middle of the house for several minutes and felt like his skin was vibrating.

Ah, right, probably the lack of sleep. Because despite having a full house and family nearby and all the help they could hope for, Jungkook had in fact never been so fucking exhausted in his entire life. 

And all because of a baby! Just one small tiny little innocent baby had dropped into their life like a fucking grenade going off! The baby grunted and the whole house flew into a flurry figuring out what he needed. Jungkook had expected Isabella to be the calm, sage, wise one and in some ways she was –she called out the steps of elimination to figure out what the issue was: diaper, food, sleep, wanting to be held, wanting to be not held. But the more steps it took to figure out, the more flustered she’d get, cuing Jungkook to swoop in and take over. Even if he felt stupid and clumsy and like he didn’t know what he was doing despite helping with nieces and nephews every chance he got. 

The first few times he had hesitated to help and Isabella had snapped. It had hurt his feelings, both for her to notice his hesitation and to be upset by it. They’d had a fight about it. Twice. That wasn’t a great memory. But after a nap, Jungkook felt satisfied by their joint realization that this was new, and hard, but also not new in some ways that had to be unlearned. Isabella wasn’t on her own this time but she wasn’t sure what it meant to have someone with her in this. Jungkook was here and wanted to be here but didn’t know what it meant to be the father, not the uncle. Ezra and Lily were here too, and old enough to not fall to pieces when Isabella couldn’t drop everything for them like before, as she tried to recover from childbirth and the new demands. The nursing struggles had really taken it out of her, it had been painful to watch, difficult to talk about without sending her into tears, and Jungkook knew he had been in over his head, unsure how to support her at a time when the answer seemed so obvious.

Finally, after two weeks of excruciating pain for Isabella, and lactation teas and cookies that made her vomit, and an agitated, hungry baby from her low milk production, and a too-slow regaining of dropped birthweight that had Isabella trying to nurse and pump around the clock, which kept her from getting any rest or even really getting to enjoy the baby… It had only been two weeks but it felt like months. Two weeks still felt too long to Jungkook but now they were in agreement. They were trying this: The baby would be a formula baby, assuming Isabella didn’t go back on her decision tomorrow. She’d agreed as of six hours ago, after crying all morning about it, despite every reassurance Eomma, Soona, Gina, and Mikayla had lobbed at her. 

She might go back on it. Jungkook hoped she wouldn’t. All his own research had shown not only how fine babies were who grew up on formula, but also the benefits to Dad being able to share the burden of feedings and get that bonding time with baby, the benefits of Mom getting to sleep without having to wake to nurse every two hours, the benefits of a family that could rest and spend time together and enjoy their happy, well-feed, growing baby without the pressure of trying to breastfeed when it just wasn’t working.

For all those reasons and more, Jungkook was relieved at her agreement, even if his heart broke that this aspect of their new baby wasn’t going like she wanted. Neither had the birth, but that was a story for another day. He just wanted everything to be perfect for her. Especially since he worried he’d pushed her into this. He’d wanted another baby but she was the one bearing the brunt of that right now. He wanted to take as much of that off her as possible, and that guilt and worry that he was failing sat high on his shoulders when things were stressful and–

But for now, for this very minute, there was a peaceful pause. The sun was going down, the neighborhood lights flickering to life alongside the festive decorations. Lily was already out trick or treating with Soona’s family, after which she’d sleep there. Ezra would go out in a little bit as well and promised to text them pictures of him with his friends, after which he’d spend the night at a trusted friend’s house for his very first slumber party. Upstairs, Isabella dozed with Gidget tangled up between her legs despite the no dog in bed rule they had these days while the baby slept in a side-sleeping bassinet attached to their bed.

He wasn’t there now though. He’d fallen asleep earlier in the Pack’n’play in the living room and Isabella had left him there under Jungkook’s supervision when she went upstairs. He had no real sleep schedule to speak of yet –which was normal, though possibly exacerbated by the struggles to get him well fed unless they resorted to bottles. Sure enough, the bottle Jungkook had given him (while Isabella wept in the kitchen) had put him right to sleep after way too many hours without, and left Jungkook free to comfort Isabella until she went upstairs to sleep too.

He understood now what people meant when they said you had no way of predicting what parenthood would be like. Even for Isabella, this third time was new and different, and Jungkook hoped he was being a good enough partner.

Maybe he wasn’t.

Or maybe it had just been a difficult afternoon and he shouldn’t assess right now. They were both tired. 

And this day in particular was extra weird: days passed without their acknowledgement, but Halloween had still come on October 31st like every year, and for the first time in forever, neither of them was going to a party or trick or treating. It was easy to feel abandoned when the older kids were off having fun without mom and dad. They’d had a new baby in the house less than two weeks, so they weren’t settled at all yet. The tense discussion earlier left him feeling as emotionally fragile as Isabella probably did. He had such happy memories of Halloween the last few years; fighting with Isabella and watching the kids leave him at home was not how he’d expected to spend it this year.

Naively, perhaps. The baby was actually due on the 29th, but Jungkook couldn’t begrudge the early arrival; Isabella had been so ready to be done with pregnancy by the end. He felt guilty he’d put her through it. Maybe she hadn’t wanted this baby as badly as he did… maybe she regretted it…

No, that wasn’t true. She adored their baby, that much was obvious no matter how tired or frustrated she got.

He dashed the thought as he heard the snuffle. It was barely a whisper but one he was instantly alerted to. He stepped around the laundry baskets and Gidget’s bed and the cases of art supplies and the couch pillows that had been thrown on the ground and the baby swing and all other manner of things decorating their floor until he could stare down at the baby blinking awake. Hands, balled into tight fists, jerked through the air, like a baby boxer. Feet hidden inside a cozy sleep sack slowly but strongly kicked. His whole little face worked on waking up: eyes fighting the urge to just close and sleep again.

Jungkook sank to his knees to get right up close and greeted lowly, “Hello, Kai.”

It felt obvious to Jungkook that the baby didn’t know who Jungkook was yet, despite all those hours of reading and talking to him while Isabella was pregnant. Everyone who’d said ‘oh the baby will recognize your voice if you sing to him a lot while he’s in mom’s belly’ were fucking liars. He’d done it, and while Kai did seem to like him singing –as much as a two week old could like anything?-- he thought it had more to do with him having a nice voice than recognition. Maybe Kai was going to have good music taste.

Other than that, Jungkook held him every chance he got, but there wasn’t anything about it that really seemed to provide comfort to him yet. When Jungkook would change the diaper that was causing discomfort, or provide the bottle of formula after a frustrating nursing session that wasn’t enough to complete a feeding, Kai seemed more surprised by this strange man’s competency than secure in his father’s care.

Yes, ok, several family members had told Jungkook he was projecting, and that there was only so much obvious attachment you could look for in a newborn. That would come later, along with personality. Once the smiles started, then you started to feel like you were getting some appreciation for all the blood, sweat, and tears of the previous week. 

The thing was, what no one seemed to understand, was that Jungkook didn’t care. Well ok yes he wanted Kai’s love. But he could wait a long time for that. That was fine. A few weeks? A few months? What was that in the face of all the years he’d waited for Isabella without even hope? He could be patient for his child too, no problem. 

Kai’s mouth opened and closed several times like a little fish. Koi, Ezra had already called him. He closed his eyes, deciding he didn’t want them open after all. It looked like a frown, so before he could gear up, Jungkook scooped a hand under his little diapered butt, another under his head, and lifted him slowly. It wasn’t that he thought he’d drop him; he knew he wouldn’t. He just personally wouldn’t like being yanked up, so why do that to a baby?

“Good morning to Kai even though it’s nighttime,” he sang. “Ah, Kai. Kai Kai. It’s Halloween. Do you know what that means? You don’t but someday you’re going to fucking love it. Also please don’t let fuck be your first word, your mama will laugh but then probably not want to write it in you baby book… Let’s just agree on Dada for your first word, ok? But take your time, there’s no rush.”

Kai had no comment as Jungkook settled him against his shoulder and double-checked Gidget hadn’t snuck down to stand directly behind him (learned the hard way), before tucking Kai down into the crook of his arm so he could walk more confidently with him towards the kitchen, only to realize on the way he should change the diaper first after such a big bottle earlier.

“Are you hungry? Are you hungry? I don’t know, I don’t know,” Jungkook sang to the tune of Frere Jaques. “Let’s make a bottle and see, after we clean up your pee. Kai Kai Jeon. Kai Kai Jeon. Damn you really wound up with a cool name, huh?” He didn’t know which was more shocking, that he and Isabella had finally agreed on a name, or that he’d give his son a name popularized by such legendary pieces of media like Suikoden, Genshin Impact, GOSICK and apparently, Ezra had informed him, Ninjago. Mikayla had also mentioned a Vampire Diaries character named Kai. Eomma said it was on Will & Grace, which she’d watched religiously when first learning English. Isabella had worried Kai was getting too popular but Jungkook had done his research and discovered Kai was only #71 on the most popular baby names given last year, whereas Ezra and Lily had both peaked in the 30s in the last decade.

Besides, as a “Jungkook” in a small New England town, Jungkook wanted his son to have a name that would let him fit in. Cool but not something that stuck out. Kai Ronin Jeon sounded cool. Ezra, Lily, and Kai sounded great together and also ELK was a fun acronym for the kids. They already complained when he used it; perfect.

“You’re the coolest baby I know,” Jungkook assured him as he quickly changed the tiny diaper at the portable changing table in the sitting space off the entry way. Baby stuff had totally taken over.

Actually so far Kai had the personality of… a newborn. A fussy sack of potatoes. Isabella had told him babies seemed like they have no personality until they get older and then you realized their personality was there all along, but he couldn’t see it yet. 

The little legs looked so scrawny, like little chicken legs wrapped up in such a great big diaper. Kai cried as soon as the air hit his skin from Jungkook unzipping his cozy warm sleep sack. He cried at the feel of the wipes, even though they had a wipe warmer so it wasn’t even cold. He cried so hard Jungkook worried it would wake Isabella up in a panic, so he moved quickly and within minutes had Kai bundled up in his arms once again.

“Ok ok clean butt, you’re fine now. Shshshsh don’t wake Mama, she’s going to feel so good after her nice long nap and a nice shower,” Jungkook said as they moved together to the kitchen. Jungkook set Kai briefly on top of the clean clothes in the laundry basket so he could wash his hands and honestly felt kind of proud of himself for being the kind of dad who thought of that, who made it work.

“Your mama is sad about this,” he continued to narrate –Eomma’s suggestion– as he swayed with Kai in one elbow and prepared a bottle one-handed. “So be a good boy and don’t fuss about taking bottles, ok?” Supposedly it was going to take some experimenting to find the best formula for Kai, but for now they could stick with the expensive, pre-mixed newborn liquid formula until Kai had regained his weight. “Especially because it means you and me can spend even more time together.” He gave his son a cheesy smile that he didn’t appreciate yet. “You’re my one newborn, so let’s make it count.”

He popped the cap off with his thumb, then spspsp’ed at Kai like he was a cat to get him to focus as he eased the nipple into his mouth. Another thing they’d need to experiment on, to find the right size and the right flow, and then he’d grow a little and they’d have to calibrate all over again. 

“Babies are a lot of work,” he teased as Kai resisted the bottle at first. Jungkook began to doubt whether he was hungry. He hadn’t started crying yet. Hadn’t he been rooting? Honestly, Jungkook wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell until it got so obvious it was already too late and Kai was melting down. 

But suddenly the nipple hit just right and Kai gave a suck that settled it further and then seemed happy with everything in life.

“Ah, see? I’m learning how to read you.” 

Kai immediately hiccuped and choked a little and Jungkook gasped and angled his arms so Kai’s head was higher. Formula spilled down his chin, but then he settled back in to keep eating. His eyes opened to narrow dark slits fixated on Jungkook –or what of him could be seen at this stage of development. 

“Ok ok there we go. You fell asleep so fast early. We’re supposed to feed, play, nap, feed, play, nap, so someday you can learn to sleep like a normal human. What time is it? Shit, it’s only seven? It feels like eleven…”

To stretch his legs he paced to the front window and looked out. They’d set a bowl of candy with some Halloween decorations at the end of the long driveway –what they usually did so people didn’t have to walk up to the house anyway, but also so there’d be no risk of someone ringing the bell and waking the baby. At breakfast Ezra had joked they already had their costumes on: zombie parents. Isabella had tossed a waffle at him.

“Usually we make a big deal about Halloween,” he informed Kai. “You kind of threw it off for us this year, but I guess next year we’ll have a birthday party for you too… ah, don’t worry, we won’t combine it with Halloween unless that’s what you want to do someday. Halloween is awesome but we want to celebrate you on your birthday. Maybe it’s better you showed up a little early but you could have done it without scaring us.”

The joke was lightly delivered, but the fear of it still lingered. The meconium in the amniotic fluid had made it into Kai’s throat and lungs by the time he emerged. “It could have been worse,” the doctor had assured him, but between Isabella’s recovery and Kai’s low blood oxygen, they’d stayed at the hospital a couple extra days so Kai’s lungs could be monitored and a round of antibiotics supervised. The rapid breathing had been terrifying, the way his little body had dragged for breath–

“But you’re doing ok,” Jungkook said, more for his benefit than Kai’s. The initial loss of weight was normal but when it hadn’t bounced back the way it should, that was scary too. So now hopefully the formula would help get him over that hump, just like his lungs had cleared up in the hospital. And hopefully Kai would nail future milestones so they wouldn’t have to worry that the meconium aspiration had any long lasting effects. His lungs had seemingly recovered while they were at the hospital, but every cough, sneeze, or chirp worried Jungkook all over again. 

“I guess this is what it’ll always be like though, huh?” Jungkook mused, turning away from the window. He hadn’t wanted to think about that scare again but it felt like it still sat on his shoulder, next to the birthweight, next to Isabella’s health and happiness, next to making sure Ezra and Lily still had as much of his fathering as they needed, next to how he was going to balance all of this once his paternity leave was up–

He took a deep breath and let it out. It would get easier. That’s what his parents kept telling him. He believed them. Ezra and Lily were easier than this, though he had plenty of worries about them as well. Ezra was at that age where social circles at school were really stratifying and hadn’t figured out quite where he fit in it all. Lily didn’t give a shit about being popular, but her grades this year weren’t as consistent as last year and she was already having friend conflicts that Jungkook couldn’t begin to understand how to navigate. She wanted to make TikToks. Terrifying.

In some ways, Kai was easier because this was it, this was him, right here. No going out to deal with the world yet, no socializing with other kids, no needing to teach him things Jungkook didn’t know himself. Personally he was a pro at eating, sleeping, and pooping. 

“Actually I’m better at latching on to a tit than you are,” Jungkook snickered, settling down on the couch and reaching for a burp cloth. “Not that I’ve nursed since I was– but I mean, it can’t be that complicated– sorry, I don’t mean that. That wasn’t the only problem anyway. Don’t feel bad about it. Isabella shouldn’t either. Life doesn’t usually go the way we expect and sometimes that’s shitty but sometimes it’s really, really great. And sometimes it just is what it is and you get by. That’s my first fatherly wisdom for you. You’re welcome.”

Kai had chugged that bottle. Jungkook worried it was too fast and would make him sick. There was only a little left when Kai spit the nipple out and turned his face away in obvious disinterest. So Jungkook did his least favorite part, burping the baby. He worried he’d hurt the little lungs after they’d had a rough start of it. Sometimes the burp itself sounded like it must hurt. Supposedly the formula would help with that too, because Kai would swallow less air struggling to get what he needed. 

“Take this for instance,” Jungkook explained as he settled Kai against his shoulder and thumped his back. “Did I ever expect to have a baby with Isabella? Nope. Did I ever expect to be a father of three? Nope.” The burp was followed by a toot. “Wahh, out of both ends! You really are my son,” Jungkook mused proudly. Then he twisted sideways against the arm of the couch so he could bend his knees and nestle Kai against his thighs, the two looking at each other. Jungkook fussed with him a bit, making sure his head was supported so he could breathe, making sure he was warm enough and the stitching around the neckline wasn’t irritating his shoulder like that one sleeper had done. Somehow there was formula in his short little eyelashes.

Everything was fine. He grabbed a little hat to pull down on Kai’s head, but stopped himself for a moment to just run his finger through Kai’s fluffy hair. Jungkook thought the rounded face might look like him but it was still kind of hard to tell what was miniature and what was just temporary. His eyes were still small and narrow, not yet like either Jungkook’s or Isabella’s. Would the little round nose become like his? Would Kai’s lips stay thick like Isabella’s or was that just a baby thing? Would the wider set of his eyes and eyebrows stay that way or would the rest of his face grow around them? It didn’t help that –as his brother was happy to point out– “Gukka kind of looks like a baby anyway.” Jungkook didn’t want to get attached to the idea of his son looking like him because in the long run it had absolutely no bearing on anything, not love, not attachment, not people making assumptions about whether his kids were or were not “his.” Certainly not on the depth of his love. 

Jungkook looked forward to finding out every little detail of Kai. He thought it would be very funny if their expectations came true that they wound up with a red head, a blonde, and a brunette, though Lily’s hair seemed to be getting darker. Maybe the blonde of her childhood would turn into brunette. Maybe Kai’s hair would be more brownish than his own. His baby eyebrows were nearly blonde which seemed strange to him but maybe they were just very thin and light.

“Who will you be? What will you like?” Jungkook murmured, wiggling his thumbs into the little fists. He had been surprised when Kai was born with long papery fingernails and peeling skin on his hands and feet. He’d been surprised by the fuzzy hair along his legs and back, though it was already thinning out. He’d been surprised by just how fucked up you felt when someone woke you up every three hours around the clock. He’d been surprised by just how instantly he felt possessive of this baby, even without feeling a real two-way connection yet.

“Did I expect you to be this perfect?” Jungkook asked. “Nope. Are you so stinking cute? Yep.” 

Kai just stared at him.

“I gotta tell you though, it’s weird that today is Halloween and just… nothing. We aren’t doing anything. I feel like a failure I didn’t throw you in a pot dressed as a lobster or something. I’m glad the kids are out having fun but…” He fished his phone out of his sweatpants pocket and looked but neither kid had texted yet. So he texted them both and then took a few photos of Kai just because he was cute in his little ‘My First Halloween’ sleeper, and had just set it down when he heard Gidget’s nails precede Isabella’s socked feet down the stairs.

“Hey,” she called, shuffling through the kitchen. “Is he hungry?”

Jungkook froze. He gave Kai a wide-eyed, nervous look that the baby did actually return but probably not intentionally.

“Um… yeah, he had a bottle.”

“Oh. Uh… a whole one?” Isabella asked, seeing the remnant of it on the table. “Wow…”

“Yeah.”

“He must be hungry.”

“No, he’s good,” Jungkook said. He could hear the waver in her voice. He could hear the guilt piling up behind it. “Super good. Come sit with us –or go back to sleep.”

“My milk dropped,” she sighed. “Is it even worth trying to pump?” She sounded more like she was talking to herself so Jungkook didn’t offer his unwanted suggestion: nope. Her nipples were bruised, cracked, and bleeding. The pain when she pumped made her cry. There was a pink hue to what little milk she could get which was blood and apparently not even a problem? The whole thing was wild. He was glad she would be spared it now… unless she was about to change her mind…

She sat gingerly on the coffee table, uncomfortable, trying to protect stitches he didn’t even want to think about. Having babies was a brutal business. 

“How long has he been awake?”

“I don’t know. Twenty minutes?”

“Hm.”

She smiled at Kai and reached out to brush her finger against his cheek. In just that smile, Jungkook could feel how much those hours of sleep had helped her. It was hard to slow down, even though they weren’t going anywhere, but the nap had helped. Not having to leap into nursing maybe helped too

“Any word from the kids?”

“Not– oh.” Their phones lit up at the same time, and since his hands were holding the baby, she pulled the group chat up, then leaned closer to show him.

Lily: we are geting SO MUCH CANDY I miss Kaibear I want a pictur

Ezra: we’re already done we hit every house in the neighborhood I bet I have more than you 

Lily: show me

Lily: I will beat you

Ezra: it was fun but I miss going together we can all take Kai as a family next year

Isabella let out a long sigh and gave Jungkook a smile that looked a mixture of happy and sad before leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was the balm he’d needed to finally relax from earlier. Their moments of physical closeness were limited right now. He didn’t need much but that kiss was everything.

“It’s a weird Halloween,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Yeah, I was just telling Kai that! He really fucked our schedule up this year!”

“Yeah. He did.”

“At least he’s cute though,” Jungkook suggested. “In his defense.”

“Oh, you’re thinking about going into law now?”

“Can you imagine?” Jungkook snickered. 

“I sure can’t.” Isabella took a picture of Jungkook and Kai together. The kid was going to be the most photographed child ever born. Then she said, “Well, I’m going to go put lettuce leaves in my bra I guess.”

“Uh… for Halloween?”

“NO,” she snorted, a sincere laugh. “I guess it’ll help dry up what’s left of my milk… god, am I really giving up on this?”

“You aren’t giving up on anything. You’re choosing the thing that’s better for everyone, including yourself, right?”

Isabella sighed and nodded. She looked at Kai longer and Jungkook let her think. There was no rush. No one was going anywhere. He didn’t know what to say so he could at least be patient as a form of support.

“I’m just so conflicted. Part of me is relieved. You can feed him more. No finding a place I feel comfortable to nurse when we’re out.”

“We’ll go out someday?”

She grinned and insisted, “Yes. No worrying about my supply or mastitis or engorgement.”

“No bleeding nipples,” he pointed.

“But that feeling of a baby falling asleep at your chest… well, Lily was too busy, she never did that anyway. But Ezra did! I guess I can just like be shirtless when I give him bottles, get some of that skin contact back… they’re just so warm and snuggly when they eat… except Lily who was a terror… She used to kick me in the face. I thought she was going to knock my tooth out.”

“I’m glad you have happy memories of it,” he said, taking a gamble. “And if you really want to keep trying, I’ll do whatever I can to support you–”

“No,” she cut him off. “Fed is best. If you can try not to be too disappointed I won’t have big nursing boobs for a year…” She was trying to joke past the disappointment, he saw it. 

“That I would have to share anyway? I need those nipples healthy. Besides, your milf tits are plenty big, Bella. I am well fed–”

“Jesus,” she laughed. And shook her head. “If there’s one thing being a mom has ever taught me, it’s that nothing will ever be like you expected it. And you can miss out on a lot of wonderful things wasting too much time grieving for the way things didn’t go. So.. I may still cry a little bit. I may grieve a little bit,” she admitted. He took her hand, his other pressed to Kai’s chest to keep him stable as he practiced rolling his little head as much as his position would let him. “But this is going to be fine.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“I can say that now that I just slept for like three hours without interruption.”

“Nice, huh?”

“You can have a turn doing it now if you want.”

“Nahhh. You should eat the pizza, it’s still warm in the oven.” He glanced at his phone, a text from his sister with a litany of trick or treating photos. “Ah, I miss not being out with them this year.”

“I know! We didn’t think that through with our Halloween baby.” They lapsed into silence again, both just watching Kai. Jungkook now knew the answer to his previous question what do you even do with a newborn was: not much. 

And he trusted for now the question too of did Isabella only do this for you? No. She wanted Kai too.

“We could put a Halloween movie on,” Isabella said. Jungkook gave her a surprised look. “And we could each have a cider or something? Don’t look at me like that!” she laughed.

“You feel like it?”

“It is Halloween.”

“Ok, yeah. Yeah, let’s do it. But nothing too scary! I don’t want jump scares to startle him or anything,” Jungkook suggested. Isabella laughed, but before he could offer to get snacks from the kitchen, she rose to do it. She didn’t try to take Kai as if Jungkook’s arms had been a temporary solution until she was here. She didn’t feel the need to check his diaper or clothing herself. 

He would have completely understood it if Isabella was possessive in the beginning. After all she had made Kai in her own body. She’d raised two kids through all of this before Jungkook ever came along. He’d raised zero new babies. But not once so far had she made him feel untrusted or incapable. She’d expected more of him than he felt capable of himself. At most she’d gently make a suggestion, but sparingly; usually he noticed himself later that he’d been putting the diaper on backwards or using the wrong size hat. She always made a suggestion if he asked, and he did ask a lot because he didn’t want to fuck things up. But she made him feel like they were a team figuring this out together, and like he had something valuable to contribute, and like he was a good father even when he wasn’t so sure yet. Like she trusted and depended on him. 

His love for her ballooned in his chest. His love for Lily and Ezra did the same as they haggled over candy trades in the group chat, blowing up his phone. His love for little Kai, who stared unblinkingly at the high contrast crinkly toy he held up for him, as if it held all the answers of the universe, continued to grow. 

When Isabella settled down on the couch beside him with the remotes, Jungkook was glad to pull her close and finally let her have some time with Kai in her arms and dangly toys to try and entertain him with as the movie began. Mostly Kai just wanted to stare as the light from the TV flickered on the ceiling. And then he fell asleep, curled up in Isabella’s arms, with Isabella’s curled up in Jungkook’s arms, and Gidget sprawled against one of Jungkook’s feet on the floor. 

And while he did look forward to next Halloween when the kids were already planning their celebration as a family, he decided that this quiet night with just Isabella and Kai was perfect in its own way too. 

And there was totally still time to put Kai in one of the little costumes they’d been gifted tomorrow, or the day after. They could say they did it on Halloween. No one would know. Sometimes you just had to do what worked and let go of anything else and it all turned out all right in the end.

[thompsborn]

Just wanted to send a little reminder that even though you've planned to finish HB by Christmas Eve, everyone will still appreciate your work if you don't make this goal! Just because it's kind of soon and you haven't posted as much about progress since Ch16 dropped (which was perfect, by the way) so wanted to make sure that you weren't putting too much pressure on yourself to meet that goal :)

hi!!

first of all, thank you for saying this!! i have this habit of making promises that i know i COULD follow through on, but since there’s no consequences to NOT following through on them and there are other things that take priority (work, family, etc.) i tend to shove things to the back burner rather than put the effort in to follow through on my promises? if that makes sense? idk

so, i’m definitely going to TRY to reach this goal i’ve set out—and, honestly, it is entirely possible that i manage to! i can write a lot in a single day, like i wrote the first chapter of homeward bound (7.2k words) in a single sitting in december 2021 and i started the second chapter the same day i finished the first one but didn’t finish it. like it’s entirely possible for me to write hb 17 and 18 like. THIS WEEKEND. like i could, writing-abilities wise, write chapter 17 tomorrow and 18 sunday. that is well within my capabilities.

it’s less the writing-ability side of things getting in the way though haha. it’s more being tired and being busy. but!! i am NOT busy this weekend! my only plans are to do laundry, do some cleaning, go to a dog training sunday afternoon for like an hour with my best friend, and sleep!

that’s not to say that i’ll be as productive with hb as i would like to be - sometimes things get in the way, sometimes i end up being tired enough to sleep until like 1 pm lmao, shit might happen, but my HOPE is to get chapter 17 on a roll!

part of it is also that like, chapter 17 is basically the climax of the investigation? but hb is currently over 150k words and i have not been keeping very good track of the investigation in my notes and am lowkey paranoid that i’ve forgotten something important and such, so i’ve been rereading chapters 1-16 to make sure i have everything written down properly and accurately in order to close off that part of the plot in a way that is hopefully satisfying, which has taken time away from actually WRITING chapter 17, if that makes sense??

basically, i won’t promise anything, but i am still going to TRY and reach this goal, and i know that if i’m able to manage my time and maintain motivation then it is entirely possible for me to do so, but there is still probably a good 50/50 chance of it actually happening. but i’m hopeful!! and honestly every comment and ask i’ve gotten about hb has been SO kind and heartwarming that i know no one will be like mad at me if i don’t manage to make it work, which is a nice reassurance to give myself (i’ve mentioned this before, but the reason i stopped writing losers club fics was because of the asks being sent to me were very VERY rude and demanding and angry and i’m kinda just scared of that happening again here, even though i have not once been given a reason to think it would since writing for marvel/parkner, but still i get a little bit anxious about it)

so, genuinely: thank you for this, it does make me feel better and less worried about the idea of like. letting people down if i don’t manage to reach this goal? and i am not going to promise that i’ll be able to, but i am definitely going to try nonetheless!!

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 30: Writing Out Some Thoughts

So, I’m just going to write down some thoughts today because I’m feeling in a kind of weird mood. I think it comes from a four-day weekend and also from this… Halloween hangover I’m experiencing, on the day before Halloween.

I really feel Halloween-ed out. This is sad because again the holiday is literally tomorrow and it’s my favorite one, but I think I was just anticipating it and building it up to it for too long. Like I was actively invested in thinking about Halloween in July. At this point, I’m still hoping to have a nice day tomorrow but after that I’m really ready for a re-set I think. I know it’s an arbitrary re-set but aren’t they all? I’ll take it; I’ll take anything.

Writing wise… I feel quite frustrated and knotted up. I feel like I failed, to be honest. Which I KNOW is nonsense-talk on many levels. I really wanted to write ficlets this year but I think what I actually wanted was that pleasant creative experience of writing a whole bunch of very specific, short genre-pieces, all in a row. And that’s really hard to do with me being… as I am right now. Like it’s just too tall a task. So then it becomes more about the outcome than the experience and that stresses me out and I get all tied up in knots about it. It starts to feel more like an obligation. I’ll be honest, I do like the idea of my ficlet series for this year. But I just don’t think it’s plausible to do. Or rather, it’s not plausible to do in, like, half a day, and I don’t want to push it forward. I don’t want it separated from Halloween and I don’t want another (ANOTHER!!) thing on the to do list.

I think if I continue to pretend I can write even some more of the ficlets that I’ll just ruin Halloween like I kinda ruined today: avoiding, overthinking, worrying, doing nothing either productive or fun. I have such a wall up about this second ficlet, I just… it’s not fun. I’m all blocked up about it.

It’s a little annoying to me that I wrote one ficlet because now it’s just this random story. I think it would work way better in the context of a series. But I don’t want to just not post it because I feel like that would be defaulting to, essentially, putting the series, as is, these 5 specific ficlets, onto the WIP list and I don’t want to do that. Also, while I have other ‘vault’ stories that I’m posting on a delay, I think this one should be posted now to reflect when it was written. So, I guess the best available option is just to post it tomorrow by itself. It bums me out, but whatever, it’s fine.

The thing is that I actually have written a lot of Halloween stuff this year, it’s just not the Halloween stuff I intended to write. I basically made my Time Loop story into a Halloween novel, and I wrote three-fourths of it. And I wrote an Exchage fic that, I will be honest, was not terribly exciting to me and was quite challenging especially in the development of the concept, but it does exist, it is quite long imo, and it is scary (hopefully).

Another consideration here is that I really do feel like I want to take a step back from horror. I’ve been reading horror since this summer, writing horror since this summer, watching horror since this summer. I need a palette cleanse. But I also really, really want to finish the Time Loop. I took a month’s break from it and that is more than enough. I wanted to get a bit of a reprieve from writing the same scene over and over but if I wait too much longer it’s just going to disappear into WIP Purgatory, where I forget everything about it and have to start from scratch. Which means I have quite a bit more creepy writing ahead of me. It’s another strong argument for not attempting the ficlets or even worrying about them anymore.

Blah. So the agenda for writing: tomorrow, post the ficlet I did write, and see my Troped Exchange fic posted; in November, use the Time Loop for my CalmWriMo project, with the goal of having it written, edited, and posted by the end of the month. I think that’s very doable. I only have 10 more scenes to write, which for some reason seems like no big deal to me. I guess that’s because I’m not sitting down to write any of them now lol. I’m also going to try to get a handle on my fic notes; I’m very behind on typing them up. I’m not sure exactly what I’ll work on after Time Loop—I have some ideas but I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. Something off the WIP list though. Maybe… the first chapter of a multi-chap? I’ve been sort of drawn to some of those ideas lately. That’s probably the devil talking but—eh.

(Also I have NOT forgotten SGAU. It just… got sidelined yet again but I swear, I swear, 2024 is its year!)

[ningtyasfi]

#2 journey in tumblr.

typing this on 10.25 p.m. with my eyes gotta fall asleep as soon as possible.

i must remember that i have my vow to write down my daily activities in this medium.

i opened my day as usual, wake up lately at 7 a.m, and fell asleep again until 8 a.m. idk since when this keep be my one of bad habits.

i've ever heard about quote, said we should, at least, reduce the bad habit you did yesterday for your tomorrow. i always regeret it, but effortlessly, it repeated, become my regular routine. can this bad behaviour stop and get out from my life forever?

ow, three of sentence above were begun by letter "i" 🤣

because of one mistake i made in the morning, all of activities surely moved on the wrong time. finally i can finish the house chore on 10 a.m, and be well prepared on 11 a.m. actually i have an appointment with Dhila to help her with her research, but yeah fortunately, even i came late, there was no laboratory asisstant to keep the lab, so we delay the activities by did my organization stuff. i forget what i've done at that time. dhila gave me vanilla milk, yummy! thanks a lot <3

finally, at 1 p.m, we measure some medium chemical components on the chemical stocks room. there was a pregant cat sneaked into the room. i was worried about the cat, because the room contains and smelled chemical components that may causing a trouble to exhale-inhale process (im very very forget about the english of this activity). fortunately the cat comfortly lied on my thigh.

the measuring take times for 1 hour. so many components were measured. i hope dhila can well overcome her research, and hope Allah give my friends who still do research, Dhila and Dwi, easiness and blessings.

i planned to give lecture for my private students in kakap. but when i arrived to their house, the neighbour said they just go together with car. so i decided to comeback home safely alhamdulillah.

time to go home. this place gives me mixed feelings. here i feel comfort, here i feel energized, here i feel miserable, here i feel more productive, and here too i feel more lazy.

why the 'lazy' things happen, even in my home? is it because everything are easy to access? um, no, i have trouble in my internet access, esp on my laptop. what else? or.. maybe this place is my safe zone, so i can effortlessly accessed the unporductive stuff, handphone is the main villain, so do the laptops with no limited access for any websites. omg, do my future has at least chance to be better? yes of course!

yesterday, after i write my first blog, i printed words that groupped the sticky notes in front of my office desk to be more organized. omg that office lol. today i feel the phsycological effect after applied that method. i can feel triggered to do the "to do list" and "delayed" section. wow, can someone described this effect in phsycological way? i wanna know badly. yet i still cant overcome the "time table" section. is the writings too little, make me cant focus on it? yeah it can be the one of reason too. i will change the concept.

okay, i gotta back to my todays stuffs. i got my ordered book by Quranreview, there are Tadabbur Quran and Daily journal. but surprisingly i got the Daily journal twice, first i got it yesterday, and today i got it again chuakss. soo, i asked the admin of the sender, and i was asked to give it back lol. fortunately, they asked me to pay it with cod, saving my costs haha.

night begin. i opened my twitter. i found one of my following tweets, he shared some blogs on Medium, about self development. His words are beautifully said and well understood. even it is all in english. in his first blog, it's about use your 1 hour-3 hours a day wisely for achieving or learning something new. we are human beings are given the same amount of time, 24 hours. 16 hours we spent for 8-hours sleep, and 8-hour work. and the remaining time usually we use it for doing unproductive activities such as scrolling through tiktok (i've deleted it due to randomized algorithm that harms my precious time😪), instagram (this apps drags me into love-hate relationship, sometimes it can be act as tiktok-ends with uninstall it, but here i can share something useful with picture in it, as you know, me being as visual learner likes it soo much), twitter (alhamdulillah i am born to be bored of something that cant give me feedback, twitter nowadays just shows me about "is it true" and some validations of everyone, i cant hold it, so i rarely opens it recently), and any social media. in my cases, whats wrong about my life? i think it's more caused by binge watching for korean dramas. i cant hold it huhu. it is very dangerous poison man.

never get a sip if you dont want your precious time will be robbed by that korean drama things😭

this will be remembred because you know, i have spent my 3 days for finishing 24 eps of a korean drama😫. i regreted it so much yet i cant take my eyes off from it... yeah... i said it before

korean drama is poison ☠

even i know that, i still watch it today. i watched eulachacha waikiki 2. but fortunately (count this words on this blog plis) i got my sanity back haha. thanks to my new invention in front of my office desk lololol, i can spit out the poison jajajaja.

is it the blog going to the end? no.

i have one regretful things today.

it is.... related to the third blog of the writer that i talked above. his name is Briandito Priambodo (https://medium.com/the-tiny-wisdom). it is about "why i didnt do it earlier?".

one of the reasons, why we cant do the good things routinely is because we expect the journey has to be perfect, so we prepared it perfectly. do you know the results being perfect on preparing? i've felt that. one day full i design the perfectly journal structure, and it ended with nothing to write, even one word. and i decided to stated that..

being perfectionist for me is a poisonous way to start the change ☠

bruh, i want to post the example of ✨perfect✨ journaling structure that i compile from some vlogger. but sorry i type this on laptop so it'd hard to post. ehe.

yo. it's 11.55. i take too much time on typing this. means that i have interest on writing, isn't it? 😂😂

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Five: Just A Man

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Fluff! (It's getting cute y'all!), death of a parent, grief, smoking, food, Silas🤢, a little sad Ezra in this one

W/C: 4k (made it a little longer to make up for the wait! 🥺)

A/N: We are back! I'm so so so sorry this took so long to get out! What can I say, life happened & kept knocking me down & I couldn't find the strength to write for this fic. I'm still not even completely happy with this chapter, but after reading it so many times, I think it's okay lol a huge thanks to everyone for being so patient & lovely to me ♥️ okay, I'll shut up, hope you enjoy!

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

~MAY EIGHTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As the days and weeks passed, Ezra finally felt comfortable enough to join you and Pa for meals at your family table, sitting and eating quietly until responding to a thought or question of Pa’s. It felt nice. It felt…warm and natural. As opposed to the slight coldness you’ve felt sitting with Pa, without your mother. Though it was still as quiet as your meals alone with your father, the silence now was more comforting.

You realized shortly after that last evening under the tree with Ezra what exactly ails you when near him, why exactly your pulse quickens and you feel heat flush your neck and cheeks. It was a startling conclusion, given that you have been inexperienced when it comes to the term ‘love’, outside of the love you felt for Ma and Pa. This, with Ezra, contrasts immensely.

It had caught you off guard, a small infatuation with the man that you realized must have taken hold of your heart from the first moment you met him, when you simply could not remove your eyes from his face. You now find your eyes lingering on his features longer, learning the curve of his smile, the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, memorizing the tone of his voice and his laugh to be replayed in moments of silence.

It’s strange; a simple emotion that you had witnessed your whole childhood into adulthood from your Ma and Pa, an emotion you carry in your heart for each of them, though the way you experience it now, the strength in which it has grasped onto your very being – and so suddenly – has been enough to make the room spin whenever you lay your eyes on him. The idea of taking a husband has never been one of priority. Up until now, at least.

“Many thanks for the delicious meal, miss. I am grateful you have welcomed me into your home as such,” Ezra says as he stands, helping you take the soiled dishes to the wash basin.

“You have always been welcome, Mr. Prospect. I am glad you now feel comfortable joining us,” you say with a gentle smile, looking up at him as he approaches you with the dishes. You catch a faint hue of pink spreading across his sun kissed cheeks.

“Would you care for a pipe, Mr. Prospect?” Pa calls out as he sits in his chair by the fireplace, beginning to pack away tobacco in his own pipe.

“I very much appreciate the offer, sir, however I do not smoke,” Ezra replies kindly as he turns away from you to face Pa and you begin washing.

“Good man; do not start the nasty habit until you become old and worn as I am now,” Pa jests.

“I only see a wise man, years of strength and kindness the only evidence that you have lived a wonderful life thus far,” Ezra compliments and Pa releases a hearty laugh.

“As I said: ‘old’,” Pa replies and both Ezra and you laugh along.

The genuine and natural lightheartedness of the conversations Pa and Ezra shared tonight warms your heart and you realize tonight has been one of the few nights you’ve smiled so freely, so frequently, since Ma’s passing and you strongly sense her spirit surrounding the three of you. Almost as if you could hear her laughing along with you all.

Although a feeling of sadness lingers in your heart that she cannot be here physically, you remember Ezra’s kind words and let them ease you. The comfort you feel wash over you leaves you pondering if it’s a sign of acceptance from above, from Ma, that she welcomes Ezra’s presence amongst you and Pa.

“Can I be of any assistance, Sunflower?” Ezra turns and asks quietly, out of earshot of Pa and addressing you by his personal endearment he has bestowed upon you.

“Thank you for offering, Ezra,” you reply just as softly. His given name had nearly slipped from your lips on more than one occasion tonight, but you felt it best to remain coy in front of your father. “I’m nearly finished now.”

“Perhaps tomorrow night. I will not miss my chance then to be of service,” he smiles and the inside of your cheek stings from the bite you dealt to keep from grinning widely. “I will take my leave for the night. The lovely beasts I room with will be missing my presence, I fear,” he says, loud enough for Pa to hear as well and Pa chuckles at his statement.

“Always a pleasure to have you for dinner, Mr. Prospect,” Pa says and stands to shake Ezra’s hand. “Daughter, would you be so kind as to walk Mr. Prospect to the door?”

“Yes Pa,” you nod, abandoning the soapy dishes for the time being and you wipe your hands to dry on your apron as you head towards the door with Ezra.

Pa smiles again in Ezra’s direction as he walks past and takes his seat once again, watching the flames dance and flicker. Ezra opens the door, allowing you to walk through and step on the porch and he follows suit, shutting the door behind him.

“Shall I walk you to the barn?” You offer.

“No, Sunflower, I would prefer you to stay. The dark of night may carry with it many dangers lurking around the corner.”

“All the more reason I should walk with you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around the wooden support post as you watch him step down into the dirt.

“Then I would intend on escorting you back here and we will only find ourselves repeating the action for one another until daybreak,” he chuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Sunflower.”

“Tomorrow,” you smile and nod. “Good night, Ezra.”

“Good night,” he bows his head in farewell and turns on his heels to head toward the barn. You linger a moment longer to assure he is well on his way, waving when he turns back to steal another glance at you.

You take a deep breath to calm your galloping heart and turn to walk back inside, Pa sitting quietly as he continues smoking. You head back to the wash basin to finish the chore, rinsing, drying, and putting away the dishes before heading over to sit next to Pa, grabbing a new book from your small collection.

You decided to leave Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to read with Ezra under the tree and the image of the two of you lying in the grass as you read to him brings a contented smile to your face. After quite a bit of comfortable silence, you feel the curiosity inching through your brain like an insect and decide to give in to the itch.

“H-how are the crops faring, Pa?” You ask while picking at the corner of your book.

“They grow fine,” Pa replies simply. “Each and every week another inch to their lives added.”

“And… Mr. Prospect has been much help?” You continue carefully.

“Oh yes, he has taken on the majority of the labor. We are blessed that he sought to help us.”

“Yes,” you smile softly as you lower your head slightly, gathering the courage to continue the conversation. “And… How do you feel about… Mr. Prospect?”

“What do you mean, child?”

“The townspeople think him...odd.”

“They must reflect on themselves before passing that judgement onto an innocent man. Especially the four hens, as you like to call them,” you giggle and look up at Pa, a slight smirk hidden beneath his thick, grey beard as he lets out a deep chuckle.

“Yes, but… What do you think of Mr. Prospect?”

“Why the curiosity, daughter?” He asks, though no irritation is found in his voice; instead, a light-hearted tone, one of knowing. Knowing why you insist on finding out his opinion.

“Merely curious, Pa,” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear over the crackle of the fire.

“Hm,” he hums as he inhales smoke through his pipe, taking his time to retrieve an forthright answer from his mind while you gaze at him in anticipation.

“He is an honest man. Good and kind. A hard worker. I believe he is fit to be a lawful husband to any girl who seeks his affection,” he finally says, looking deep into your eyes and his words go straight to your fast beating heart.

You catch the smile on your face growing, evident in the strain you feel across your cheeks and you put your head down to face the book in your lap.

“That's nice,” you reply once you've cleared your throat and regained control of the muscles on your face.

“Yes. Yes it is,” Pa smirks as he inhales another puff from his pipe.

~MAY TENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Today is as exhilarating as the rest; you attempt to sort through the inventory of the shop, taking note of which supplies are dwindling while also marking down new items the townspeople have requested, such as candles and playing cards for the children. As you walk toward the back of the shop, beginning your count of products there, the shop bell dings and you hear boots stomping from whoever has stepped through the door.

“Just a moment, please,” you call out to the customer from over your shoulder, hoping not to lose track of the count in your head.

“Please, do not rush, Sunflower,” a gentle, familiar voice replies and you feel your heart thumping faster in your chest now as you turn quickly, inventory be damned.

“Ezra,” you greet the man standing meekly at the front of the shop. He takes a few steps forward to meet you beside the counter. “What brings you to town? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, no thank you, Sunflower. I needed to send a letter off at the post and thought that my day would be much brighter were I able to visit you as well,” he says with a soft grin and you lower your head to hide the bashful expression on your face.

“Well, my day has brightened now, too,” you reply, gaining the courage to look up at him again, the apples of his cheeks reddening. “I trust you were promptly taken care of then?”

“Yes, Mr. Williams is a kind man,” he nods. “The elderly woman who works there as well – she is quite the conversationalist,” he releases a soft laugh.

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Williams,” you shake your head. “She actually does not work there, just adores to be in the center of it all,” you jest and Ezra chuckles. “I do hope she was not too overbearing.”

“Only slightly,” he shrugs. “After you and your Pa, her and Mr. Williams have treated me the kindest since my arrival.”

“Oh Ezra,” you share a perturbed look. “I am truly sorry for the way the town has behaved.”

“Sunflower, you have no reason whatsoever to apologize for the actions of others. Unfortunately, this town has not been the most unpleasant I’ve come across. I was very lucky to have found you. And your Pa,” he rushes the last phrase and you smile knowingly, his mouth curving slightly as well.

You open your mouth to continue the conversation, the innocent coquetry between you, yet no sounds are released from your mouth before the shop bell dings again and you sigh at the interruption. You turn your head and your racing heart, caused by Ezra’s presence, races faster, only in anger now.

“And what do we have here?” Silas’s booming, uninvited voice resonates through the shop. “What business could a queer like you have to conduct in town?” He looks at Ezra and you step in front of him.

“I told you not to call him that, Silas.”

“It does not seem he’s made any purchase,” he says, making a show of looking in Ezra’s hands for any paper bag. “Yet he is allowed to stay and converse while you toss me in the dirt.”

“Go away, Silas.”

“Sunflower-” Ezra calls gently from behind you, unable to finish his thought.

“‘Sunflower’?!” Silas laughs. “She does not need a freak to endear her, not when she has a real man. Like me.”

“Silas, he is more of a man than you could ever hope to be,” you spit out.

Of all the times you had the opportunity to speak your mind to Silas, you held back. Though, now that it is directed to Ezra, you feel that innate protectiveness for him wash over you again, no matter the cost or consequence.

“You dare say such a thing to me, girl?” Silas takes a menacing step forward.

“She is not a girl and you will not speak to her as one,” Ezra moves to stand in front of you now. “And I do believe she has requested for you to take your leave.”

“And exactly who will force me out? You?” Silas puffs out his chest, as if he were attempting to assert his role as an alpha, and frustration grows on his face at Ezra’s lack of response to the tactic.

“If I must.” Ezra replies simply and calmly, the tone of his voice even, though underneath lies a hidden message that he would not back down from a brawl, if it were to come to that.

“Ezra, please, he isn’t worth it,” you say softly, reaching out to hold his forearm.

“Oh, aren’t I?” Silas scoffs.

“I will summon Sheriff Wilson here to collect you himself if you do not leave my shop right this instant,” you hold your unyielding gaze to Silas’s, raising your chin slightly so as to challenge him to defy your wishes.

Silas hmph’s, his thick brows arching menacingly as he glances down at where your hand rests firmly on Ezra’s arm, clearly displeased at the contact. You feel Ezra’s form tense next to you, and you use your free hand to lightly press against his back in an effort to calm him.

“Fine,” Silas finally says harshly as he turns his back to you and Ezra and stomps to the door.

He looks over his shoulder one more time at the two of you and something about his animalistic eyes sends a nasty shiver down your spine. Before he can see you falter, he rips the door open, walks through, and slams it shut, rattling the frame as he leaves. You exhale shakily and Ezra turns his body to face yours, his hands gripping onto your upper arms as his eyes rake over your face in concern.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?”

“Oh Ezra,” you gaze at him thoughtfully. “It should be me asking you that same question.”

“Please, don’t worry about me. My only concern is you,” he continues, his eyes trying to follow yours as you look away from him. “Does he come here unannounced often? Has he bothered you before?”

“Ezra, he has always been a thorn in my side, but it is nothing for you to concern yourself with. I promise,” you look in his eyes, hoping to convince him, but you suspect it does not work and his hands fall from your arms.

“Sunflower… I did not appreciate the way he looked at you and spoke to you.”

“It’s alright Ezra, it is not anything I can’t handle,” you smile and grasp one of his hands in both of yours, squeezing it gently as reassurance.

You’re unsure of what to say. What could you say? That up until now you have been cowardly when it came to Silas Taylor? That it was not until Ezra’s arrival to town that you have come to know a stronger side of yourself, willing to risk your already frail reputation to defend this man’s name?

Ezra sighs heavily, staring into your eyes a moment longer before looking away. You watch his eyebrows crinkle together, the worry wrinkles along his forehead becoming more prominent as he reflects on the situation that just passed.

“Are you alright? Please… Do not take anything he says to heart,” you say softly and your kind voice pulls him back from his thoughts and to this moment with you. He smirks and huffs a chuckle through his nose.

“No fear, Sunflower. It is not a trial I cannot handle,” he cocoons your hands in both of his and squeezes lightly, as if to reassure you he is alright. “I will go now, Sunflower.”

“I understand,” you nod. “Then… I will see you back at the farm for supper.”

He smiles to acknowledge your words, releasing your hands and heading to the door. He turns once more to nod his goodbye, places his hat back on his head, and walks out the door. You walk to the front of the shop to watch him through the window, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped forward as he walks swiftly to leave the area.

Your head feels on fire, ready to blow steam at any moment as you watch the townspeople around staring at him. They turn to each other, presumably whispering gossip amongst themselves about him. Unfortunately, as you have come to know Silas, you know he will be spreading word of the ‘threat’ he felt from Ezra, which you surmise will only result in the townspeople turning their backs on Ezra even further.

~MAY TWELFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Ezra had not shown up for supper that night or the night that followed. You had wanted to take supper to him, but Pa advised against it. He had heard on his last trip to town what transpired between you, Ezra, and Silas. You prepared yourself to, once again, defend Ezra, however, Pa’s unabated rancor of Silas all but guaranteed Pa would not believe a word from his mouth.

Pa informed you that when he returned and asked Ezra about the situation, he assured the man that he was not at risk of losing the job at the farm, and while he was grateful, he did not wish to speak on it further. Pa told you to leave him to gather his bearings and you complied.

On your way to the oak tree, you pick two apples as you had done the Sunday prior, and to your earnest disappointment, you do not see Ezra as the tree comes into view. You look left, then right, hoping it was possible he had just walked along the riverbank, but you were alone.

Heaving a sigh, you turn to face the way you came as you debate on heading back. Your weekly tradition almost seemed silly to continue alone, after having been in Ezra’s company the past few weeks. It almost felt...incorrect to spend time here without Ezra now. You take a few steps forward, now under the shade of the tree, sparing another moment in case you missed him.

“Sunflower,” his elated voice from above frightens you and you quickly turn your head to follow the sound, seeing his bright smile from where he sits on a thick branch.

“Ezra! You startled me!” You chuckle as you take a few breaths, covering your racing heart with your hand.

“My apologies,” he chuckles. “I did not hear you walk up otherwise I would have made my presence known sooner.”

“I did not expect to see you in the tree today,” you smile up at him.

“Come, join me,” he smiles, patting the bark to the side of him.

“I have not climbed a tree since I was a child, Ezra. I will fall,” you shake your head.

“I will never let you fall, Sunflower,” he smiles and your now settled heart begins to race again. “It’s simple, really. Nothing to it. I will guide your steps.”

You take a deep breath, pondering for a moment if the risk was truly worth it, but there’s an excitement in this small adventure that you feel your soul reaching for. You smile at Ezra and nod, removing your bag and placing it at the base of the tree.

You follow Ezra’s voice commands as he tells you where to step up and you use more muscles in your body than you have in so long. You heave yourself upwards, careful that your boots do not miss any section of the tree that will have you flying all the way back down.

Finally, you make it far enough for Ezra to take hold of your arm, using his strength now to help pull you up until you’re close enough to attempt to sit. He scoots over, keeping his hand tightly grasped on your arm to make sure you don’t fall. Though, at this point, if you were to fall, Ezra would certainly fall with you.

You plant your bottom firmly onto the branch, breathing heavily and smiling widely at the accomplishment and Ezra chuckles along with you. You try to settle yourself further and suddenly get the sense of falling, reaching out instinctively to hold onto Ezra’s arm and you practically glue yourself to his side for support.

“You will not fall, Sunflower,” he reassures and you feel him lean closer into you to comfort you.

“Pardon me,” you giggle, feeling steady enough now to remove yourself from him. You take a deep breath and look out ahead at the river and the grassland, spotting the other farms in the distance. “Wow,” you say breathlessly. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Yes, it is,” Ezra responds softly. You turn your head to him where you already meet his gaze and turn away again as you smile.

“Oh no,” you gasp as your eyes meet your bag down below. “I left the book… And the apples,” you turn to frown at Ezra.

“Do not fret, Sunflower,” he smiles. “I enjoy your company regardless.”

“Maybe...you could read me more of your prose?” You prod gently, hoping he will be willing.

“Yes,” he says wistfully as he glances down at his journal. “I do like when you read to me, however.”

You smile as he passes his journal to you and you cradle it with care in your hands. You move to open it and the binding opens automatically to one page, clearly still stiff from where he had it open, this addition to the pages only written just recently. You clear your throat and let your eyes dance as they pick up the words in his neat handwriting.

“‘A being from a different universe desires to live amongst the men in peace on Earth, for his purpose to be written in the stars. A nomad, an outcast on the run, desperate for a residence more suitable than his dreams. Soon, he will find home, and soon, he will find life’,” your voice trails towards the end of the passage, your heart wrenching at the meaning behind it.

“Ezra…” You call softly once you notice his head has lowered.

The silence stretches and you can almost visualize it expanding across the lands in front of your view, any helpful or comforting words escaping from your reach. The only conclusion your mind seems to come to is just to place a hand softly on his thigh. You feel his muscle twitch at the contact and he glances over at you, a light tint of pink beginning to spread across his cheeks.

You suddenly feel embarrassed to have placed your hand there and you immediately think to yourself that perhaps it was not welcomed, though before you can remove your hand, Ezra places his own, large and warm, over yours. Your mind settles while your heart beats rapidly. You still do not know what to say, but it does not seem Ezra is expecting for you to say anything at all.

“I’ve missed you at supper, Ezra,” you whisper and grin softly.

“Forgive me for my absence, I was not… I did not feel…” You sense him struggling as he lowers his head again and you place your other hand on top of your intertwined ones.

“I understand; you have no need to apologize.”

He looks at you again and you give him a reassuring smile and he returns the gesture. You two say nothing and let the comfortable silence blanket the air around you while you gaze out to your surroundings again, your hands not leaving each other’s grasp.

“Sunflower?” He calls and you turn to face him again.

“Yes, Ezra?”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @amandalovess @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @magpie-to-the-morning @pbeatriz @radiowallet @stevie75 @honestly-shite @bison-writes @amneris21 @disgruntledspacedad

Ezra Prospect Tags: @quietpainter @grogusmum @tenderwhat

[thefanficmonster]

Sweet Dreams

The Clarkes (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) & Child!Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Domestic (Family) Fluff

Summary: When little Y/N is finally given a home by the Clarkes family, she’s rightfully very shy and apprehensive as any toddler would be when surrounded by strangers and finding herself in a new surrounding. Luckily, all the members of the Clarke family are nothing short of sweet and welcoming towards her, getting her warmed up to her new life almost instantly.

Happy birthday, @artlovingbre! I hope this reaches you in time despite the time difference and whatnot but anyhow - I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy the best birthday you’ve had yet. Thank you for giving me the honor of writing this sweet and adorable fanfic as a gift for your birthday. I hope the final product lives up to your expectations. Once again, happy birthday! Enjoy your special day and this fanfic I’ve written you! Lots of love, Vy ❤

Safely strapped into the car seat with a seatbelt, the five-year-old Y/N fidgets with her hands resting in her lap, too shy to look up. Her reaction to the sudden change is completely understandable. In fact, the woman running the foster home mentioned that Y/N had handled the news of being adopted much better than other kids had in the past. The woman - Mrs. Jones - mentioned to James and Anne on several occasions how special of a girl Y/N is. Wise beyond her years and with a heart of gold, she had said the second Anne pointed the little girl out to James when they had gone to the foster home for the first time. Despite being quiet and reserved when she was sat down with James and Anne so she could meet them, the married couple already knew the little girl was the one they’d want to adopt into their family. Sure, she did come across as shy at the start, but having observed her as she played with the other kids, smiling and giggling like the children her age, Anne and James knew she was a wonderful girl. Truly, a heart of gold.

James is in the driver’s seat, a lot happier than he’s letting on. The idea of adopting another child was entirely Anne’s. After they had adopted Megan, he had never once thought about adopting another child into their already buzzing beehive of a household. Four kids, all at different ages and stages, it could get pretty exhausting and frustrating, especially when the older ones - Tanya and Dennis, to be more specific - would yell at each other from across the house. With these images in mind, James was very opposed to the idea, though he was aware that he’d cave eventually. He could only deny his wife’s wishes for so long but when she brought up the argument of Megan feeling lonely, that’s when she had him in the palm of her hand.

Anne, James’ loving wife is sitting beside the newest addition to the Clarke family in the backseat of their car as they get closer and closer to the house where their four curious children are awaiting to meet their youngest sibling. Anne had been looking at their family as it was - chaotic, dysfunctional even at times with the disagreements and argument among their four kids. Her and her husband had been hoping they’d grow out of this fighting phase and grow to be a lot more tolerant of one another, but the case seemed to be completely opposite. And the more time passed, the more the older kids would argue amongst themselves and occasionally pick on the youngest Megan. It goes without saying that they all love each other dearly, however they love getting on each other’s nerves just as much. Seeing no other way to put her family in balance and seeing her youngest daughter constantly left to the side, ignoring the arguing of her siblings, Anne had made the decision to incorporate a new addition to the family and she was determined to get over any obstacle to make it happen - the only obstacle being her husband and his will which was easily overpowered by her persistence.

The couple couldn’t have possibly chosen a better, sweeter, smarter child. The little girl, in their eyes, is a lot like Anthony and Tanya. Despite her age being closer to Megan’s, the two girls appear to have nothing in common except the childish excitement and goodness of their hearts and their friendliness. With that in mind, James and Anne know the girls would get on just fine. In fact, they know for certain that Y/N will be welcomed and accepted into the family no problem. The only member that worried them and the only one they seriously sat down to give a pep-talk to was Dennis but even he was offended because his parents felt the need to sit him down and instruct him on how to behave. Main reason for that was the fact that he too was just excited to meet his new little sister as was everyone. Of course, he never showed it or expressed it, but deep down he could barely wait for this day to come. He even supported Anthony and Tanya’s argument that they should come along to pick the girl up from the foster home - an argument that was inevitably turned down by James.

“You want to scare the girl before she even comes to our house? I won’t allow it.“ He said, mush to the disappointment of the aforementioned young adults.

In the meantime, as the car glides over the street only three streets away from the Clarkes’ house, all Y/N can do is wonder; think and rethink every possibility of what’s to come. No matter how many adults say she’s such a grown and mature kid, they have no idea what’s going on in her head. Just because she doesn’t go to confine in an adult about the monster under her bed or the one in her closet doesn’t mean she doesn’t fear those monsters. She does, but she’s never wanted to bother anyone else. Her main fear, however, was that haunting sound of the wind howling throughout the old house of Mrs. Jones. The eerie noises produced by the gusts of wind peeking in through the cracks and holes in the walls and around the door and window frames. Those sounds kept her up at night from the very first time she had to sleep in that small room she shared with another girl her age. She never outgrew that fear and on the autumn and nights she barely slept a wink. Now, she hopes she’ll finally be absorbed by the sweet slumber, confined in a warm bed with people that she can call family an arm’s reach away.

Pulling up to the house, Y/N finally looks up, eyes twinkling curiously as she looks up at the modest house standing tall above the vehicle her and her new parents are sitting in at the moment. Looking to the side, she finds Anne’s warm, caring gaze on her, accompanied by a small smile of genuine adoration.

“Here we are.“ James announces, unbuckling his seatbelt with a mildly trembling hand, “Let’s quickly head inside, the kids are probably lining the windows with excitement.“

And that they are. Tanya, Anthony and Megan are all aligned by the living room windows, staring at the vehicle expectantly, waiting to see their sister for the first time. Little do they know, Dennis is doing the exact same thing but by the kitchen window. He’s just as curious, but once again, not as willing to show it.

With her hand held in Anne’s, Y/N steps out of the car, finally getting a good look at the house she’ll be calling home from now on. There’s almost zero hesitation in the steps she takes towards the front door which opens before anyone even gets the chance to place their hand on the doorknob.

Light pours out of the brightly lit hallway out onto the porch, illuminating the married couple and the little girl standing in the slowly falling night.

“Welcome home.“ Anthony is the first one who greets them, more specifically Y/N, while Megan is restlessly shifting from one foot to the other, eager to run up to her new sister, six years her junior, and give her a hug. Tanya’s hold on her shoulders is the only thing preventing her from doing so.

The welcome wagon of three steps aside, allowing James, Anne and Y/N to walk in just as Dennis emerges from the kitchen, his gaze immediately seeking out the youngest member standing in the hallway.

“Y/N, these are your older siblings.” Anne says, motioning to the older kids aligned in front of her, simultaneously flashing them a warning look, “Why don’t you all welcome your sister while I get dinner ready?”

“I’ll help you.“ James chimes in, accompanying Anne in the intention of heading into the kitchen, allowing the kids to give a welcome to Y/N on their own. Though somewhat risky, they are hoping for the best outcome from their first interaction.

As the married couple walks away, the group leads Y/N into the living room where the girl, while still rather shy, finds herself feeling at home and comfortable. She’s curious above all else, though. Looking at the unfamiliar faces, all she wants is to learn more about them.

The one to break the introduction ice is Tanya. She crouches down so she’s at eye level with Y/N and gives her a warm smile. “Hi, Y/N. My name’s Tanya. I’m your older sister. It’s really nice to meet you.“

Surprising the older girl, Y/N steps forward and gives her a hug, opposing her shy and hesitant appearance. “Nice to meet you too.” She whispers before pulling away and looking around at the faces she still doesn’t have names to connect to.   It doesn’t remain that way for long though - Megan, excited that she’s finally able to give her sister a hug, doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity.

“Hi, I’m Megan! We’ll be sharing a room together! You’re gonna love it! I have a lot of toys we can share too!“ Not bothering to hide her enthusiasm, Megan approaches Y/N grinning at the younger girl who smiles right back at her.

“Do you have stuffed animals? Mine will come tomorrow, but I can’t sleep without them.“ She says timidly, embarrassed by the confession.

“Of course!“ Megan squeals, “You can have them all if you want!“

Anthony is next to introduce himself, earning himself a hug also. However, when Dennis’ turn arrives, he’s rather hesitant on how to approach the situation. He’s not used to these interactions nor is he known for being very nice or welcoming and the last thing he wants is to scare or upset the little girl, leaving her with a bad impression of him.

“And that’s Dennis.“ Tanya says, shooting him a glare as a silent ‘be nice!‘ before changing her expression entirely, giving a Y/N a sweet smile. 

While Dennis remains still as a statue, death-glaring his older sister, Y/N takes a step towards him, offering a shy ‘Hi’ while avoiding eye-contact before giving him a hug too. Stunned and with a breath that has caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat, Dennis wraps his arms around the small girl as if on autopilot. Huffing out the quietest and most reluctant, “Nice to meet you, sis.”

James and Anne pick that exact moment to walk in with the intention of inviting their kids into the dining room where James has already set the table for dinner. They stop mid-step however when they see the scene in front of them - Dennis carefully - and fearfully - hugging his five-year-old sister as though she’s either a porcelain doll he’s afraid to break or an otherworldly being he’s never laid eyes upon before. The parents are debating between laughing and melting at the sight, simultaneously relieved at how well the newest addition to their family has been accepted by the rest of the members. Looking at Anthony and Tanya confirms that the two are thinking the same.

“Come on kids, dinner’s ready.” James announces, wrapping his arm around his emotional and teary-eyed wife’s shoulders, pulling her closer as a non-verbal way of reassuring her he feels the same way as she does.

To the surprise of everyone in the room, instead of letting go of the little girl, Dennis lifts her up into his arms as though she weighs as much as a feather, causing her to yelp and giggle.

“Bet you can’t make it there before Y/N and I can.” He exclaims, dashing past everyone and towards the dining room with the child giggling and squealing in his firm embrace.

If there was any shred of doubt left in James or Anne’s minds, it has now been erased and replaced with ease and joy they have been longing to feel since the moment they picked Y/N up from the foster home.

                                                            *  *  *

Following dinner, Megan and Tanya set up Y/N’s bed with the colorful sheets, pillow and blankets they had bought earlier that week. Megan didn’t forget to lay out a bunch of stuffed animals as well, remembering what Y/N had mentioned about those toys earlier. Meanwhile, Anthony and Dennis were giving Y/N a tour of the ground floor - or at least tried to. Y/N’s attention was immediately stolen by the box containing Dennis’ vinyl records and - much to Anthony’s surprise - he actually let her look through them and examine each and every record without giving her any warning or instructions when it came to how she held, picked up or put down his most prized possessions.

Being the youngest and also exhausted after such a busy day, Y/N was the first one to start yawning while the family sat watching TV in the living room. Anne and James were quick to react, taking the little girl up to the room she’s sharing with Megan. Tucking Y/N in with James’ storytelling filling her ears, Anne couldn’t suppress the pleasant feeling of joy and fulfillment. She plants a loving kiss on the little girl’s forehead just as James closes the story book and sets it on the bedside table, getting up quietly as to now awaken the already asleep kid. With one exchanged look they know exactly what the other’s feeling - shimmering eyes, glowing with fulfillment, genuine smiles, allowing their fondness to shine through. The two exit the room, allowing only the night light to stay one and leaving the door open a crack as a reminder that they are nearby. That she’s not alone. That she has no reason to be scared if she wakes up in the middle of the night.

But she won’t because for the first time the little girl is sleeping as peacefully as a child should be. Not at all bothered by the sound of any winds or thoughts of any monsters that might be lurking in the dark. She’s safe and sound, dreaming sweet dreams in her new loving home.

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt.4)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: oooooh boy this took a hot minute to write, but i finally forced myself to finish it. and we reached 600 followers recently too!!!! i can’t believe there’s so many of you guys like holy heck. i hope you continue to enjoy what i have to offer :)

4.8k words

Warnings: reader experiences mild anxiety

As much as every ounce of your being begged to escape the confines of your small apartment and return to work, there were certain...motivators, holding you back.

For one, you presumed it’d be safest to heed the words of a medical professional―at least for the time being. Your condition had greatly improved since Friday, disregarding some lingering head pain, and now your self-preservation and common sense seemed to be functioning properly at the moment. In that regard, resting was likely the better idea.

As for the other thing keeping you home...perhaps it would be healthier not to think about it.

You felt ashamed, having been so undeniably intimidated by a couple of men who were simply being kind enough to drive you home last night. However the sensation didn’t come as a shock once you had taken the time to think the ordeal over.

It’s just what came naturally―your brain internalizing experiences, shaping them into something that should scare you.

Any rational person would laugh at your behaviour.

They’re heroes. Clearly what happened was just them expressing harmless concern.

And yet the more you tried to convince yourself of their innocent intentions, the harder it became to ignore the gut feeling that still lingered the morning after.

However, you knew how your brain could be sometimes―refusing to move on from initial impressions despite having rationalized the topic as a whole.

Hizashi was just naturally drawn to affection as a way of showing distress. There was no other meaning behind his lingering touches or endearing nicknames―just concern.

As for Shouta, well he always seemed to be a stern man. It was likely that it just manifests a bit more when he’s worried, it’s just the professionalism in him.

There was no need to stay so fixated on the subject when you could be using your time to catch up on hobbies that you’d greatly neglected as a result of your occupation. Having no reason for doing anything else, a little self-indulgence was practically your only choice.

It was still early, at least for your standards―knowing full well that your lifestyle kept you in bed longer than the average human.

You kept searching for things to do here and there, never staying on one task for too long. First it was cleaning the kitchen, then attempting to read a long abandoned novel. You tried finding something on t.v to watch, but everything only offered you the same empty feeling of boredom. Nothing could pique your interest long enough to hold you to one pastime―and for good reason.

There was a message from Hizashi that remained unopened on your phone since you woke up.

It felt ridiculous, being so hesitant to look at the damned message. Even after telling yourself that there was nothing to worry about, you couldn’t bring yourself to read it. So when you heard the familiar ping not once, but twice in succession while organizing your magazine collection, the feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach did not come as a surprise.

The device was still on your nightstand where you disregarded it last night, and subsequently neglected it this morning. Even through the walls of your bedroom you could still hear the notifications go off.

Inwardly cursing, you had a faint idea that continuing to block out the intrusion would likely lead to more issues between you and the two men. Not that it should, everyone forgets to answer their phone here and there. But you weren’t an idiot―even if it was just paranoia, the consequences of ignoring the messages weren’t something you particularly wanted to think about given the recent behaviour of the heroes.

As expected, the screen was lit up in wait for your return.

From: Hizashi

morning sunshine! just checking up on ya, how r u feeling?

9:17 am

ya doing okay? didn’t pass out again i hope ;)

12:53 pm

if ya keep leaving me hangin i’m gonna get worried songbird…

12:54 pm

Ah yes, you thought, he’s as coddling as normal it seems.

You figured it’d be wise to send a reply before he bust down your door to make sure you were still alive in person.

You:

I’m alright! Just slept in a little :)

12: 54 pm

The response that came instantly was almost a little inhumanly fast.

From: Hizashi

oh thank god, don’t need a repeat of last friday

12:54 pm

You:

Yeah, definitely not. Thanks for checking up on me though!

12:56 pm

From: Hizashi

lemme know if ya need anything picked up, probably not a good idea for you to be going out rn

12:56 pm

Naturally, you wouldn’t let him do that even if you did need anything. God knows how much trouble you’ve been so far―no need to cause more.

You:

Sounds good, I’ll let you know if I do.

I’m actually in the middle of cleaning right now so how bout we talk later :)

12:57 pm

The more you conversed with him, the harder it became to think about anything other than the embarrassing experiences you had with the man. It was probably best if you gave up the conversation, knowing you’d have more than enough time to chat when you regrettably were forced to eat dinner with him and his partner.

Thankfully, he seemed to be okay with the proposition as well.

From: Hizashi

aww alright, don’t work urself too hard sunshine!

12:58 pm

Too bothered to give a proper farewell, you turned your phone off, leaving it on do not disturb to avoid further distress.

_____

You’d spent the rest of the day tidying up here and there. It turns out focusing solely on going to work only to come home for rest had left your apartment shamefully messy. Every now and again your thoughts would drift back to the two intrusions in your life as of lately. It was invasive―not being able to leave well enough alone. You weren’t physically near them they still plagued you with anxiety, even if it was just barely recognizable.

Dinnertime came soon enough, and you’d spent it mindlessly scrolling through social media. The feeling of wanting to chuck your phone across the room was fleeting―but present―as you momentarily laid eyes on a post having to do with Present Mic and his radio show. It would seem not even in your perceived distraction could you distance yourself from the thoughts and feelings related to him and his somber counterpart.

The night went on, slowly but surely. For better or for worse you let yourself get lost in the endless play-through of television. Some shows you’d seen before, others you hadn’t. It didn’t really matter when the only purpose they served was to keep your mind on something that didn’t have your hair falling out from stress.

Eventually you felt your mind become foggy with exhaustion once again―and you couldn’t be more thankful.

_____

Wednesday was spent doing many of the same things as the day before. Cleaning―so much cleaning. Turns out you’d missed a lot yesterday, and the lighting of the somewhat early morning sun was more than enough to highlight all the dirt and grime that had yet to be scrubbed away.

So you got to work, feeling rejuvenated with a good night’s sleep.

By the time you made it to six o’clock you felt thoroughly beat, and in the best way. You spent your time eating thinking about the work day you would have tomorrow. Sure, you were aware that it’d only bring the all too familiar sluggishness to your body. But you were a people pleaser, so really that sensation didn’t matter at the end of the day. What mattered was the motivation you felt that spurred you to work―both the verbal and nonverbal praise those who purchased the fruits of your labour gave.

Expectedly, when you woke up Thursday morning, although it was closer to the afternoon at that point, there was a spring in your step as you readied yourself for the day.

As always the comforting smell of fresh greenery in the air was much appreciated as you stepped into the floral boutique. Your coworker greeted you with open arms, regarding your seemingly healthy recovery. It was nearing the end of their shift, and therefore soon to be the beginning of yours, so you headed to the employee designated portion of the building to make the few preparations for the start of your night.

Naturally, you were quickly subjected to the whims and demands of customers when you took your place at the front counter. Given the monotonous time you spent away from any meaningful stimulation, the activity was appreciated.

You were assorting foliage left right and center, the company you worked for obtaining quite the substantial amount of earnings in the process. The time went by steadily, you working diligently alongside of it. Request after request was met, not even the few unsavoury interactions phased you all the much amidst the bustling atmosphere. A few familiar faces entered the shop, to which you greeted with a comforting warmth only good service could provide.

It felt good to be caught up in routine, making the nearing end of it only the more bitter. But it still came, and you were going through the motions of tending to the final arrangement with somewhat slowed movements as a result of your quirk usage.

The awaiting customer hastily took the finished product before paying and exiting the establishment. People tended to be in a bit of a rush at this hour, likely due to the lateness of the night. You disregarded the occurrence and settled for cleaning up for the rest of your shift.

There was sweeping and disinfecting to be done, along with tidying up the assembly station and checking on the greenery room one last time. You went through the tasks absentmindedly, having done them countless times before. The routine was like second nature, allowing your thoughts to go over the events of the workday.

You were giving a final once over of the plant life when the high pitched jingle of the front door bell rang out through the shop.

Really? At this hour you’re trying to buy flowers even though it’s literally closing time?

Giving a sigh of frustration you stepped out of the room and headed to the front. But low and behold, it was not in fact an incompetent customer waiting to be served.

“Did you even consider staying home for the whole week?” The erasure hero was leaning against the front counter when you entered the room. He was smirking ever so slightly, almost as if he knew that both of you were aware that you wouldn’t stay away from work. His tone was even teasing, making your frustrations go away only to be replaced by a slight feeling of flusteredness under his intense gaze. You didn’t know whether you preferred this side of him or the side that made you want to curl into a ball after being berated by unyielding lecturing mixed with interrogation.

“Hello to you too. I’m sorry if you're here for flowers cause it’s pretty much closing time.”

Just then Hizashi walked out from behind a display stand, making his way next to Shouta. “Not quite listener! Just wanted to make sure you were still up for that repayment we talked about.”

Ah yes, like you could forget that any time soon.

“Of course. Still not sure how it makes up for things but since you insist...who am I to say no?” You were behind the counter, taking stock of today's earnings as Shouta continued.

“I suppose it’s not really a traditional form of repayment, but we promise you’ll enjoy it. To be honest we don’t have company over often, so it’ll be a nice change of pace for us too.”

It was a relief to see that their behaviour wasn’t nearly as hostile as it was a few nights ago. Frankly, you just barely got out of that situation without breaking down from your highly anxious nerves.

“Ya finishing up there songbird? We’ll give you a ride home.” Joyous as ever, Hizashi was all too eager to put you further in debt.

Expectedly, his partner was quick to agree to the proposition. “That’s not a bad idea. Not to sound patronizing, but it really is dangerous to be out by yourself at this hour.”

You wrapped up the assessment of the register’s contents, closing the drawer and locking it up. “Thanks for the offer, but I refuse to impose on you two anymore. Besides, walking home can be kinda therapeutic―at least when I’m not tired out of my mind.” You gave a slight chuckle at the end of your statement, having long gotten used to that recurring condition at the end of the day.

“We weren’t asking, (y/n). You're still recovering, even though you probably won’t admit it. And I won’t beat around the bush―you’re too vulnerable in this state.”

It would seem Shouta’s previous attitude was just for show. Does he ever get tired of being so serious all the time?

It was like second nature at this point―direct confrontation leading to an initially mild panic that would soon snowball into a full blown breakdown if the occurrence persists.

You kept up the friendly appearance nonetheless.“I just think I’d prefer―”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart. You know we don’t mind helpin’ ya out. Besides we still gotta work out when you’re comin over, yeah?” The blond’s smile did little to calm the growing apprehension you felt.

Just be a little more stubborn. Some people need that extra reminder.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll just message you for the details and―”

“(Y/n).” It made your stomach churn―the lowness in the erasure hero's voice. He wasn’t having it. For a moment you pondered whether he’d ever really care about what you had to say.

“Just finish closing up, ‘kay hun? We’ll wait right here until you’re done.” Hizashi kept his eyes on you in wait for a response, or even an action that would show you’d comprehended what they said. And of course you had―you just desperately wished they’d never said it in the first place.

You felt ashamed, and it was becoming an all too familiar feeling when you were around the two men. But it was just who you were, met with compassion but only getting dejected by it. You were uncomfortable, there was no denying that. Backed into a corner that shouldn’t exist, but does because you didn’t have the will to change the situation into your favour.

Despite your distress, the part of you that put others before yourself prevailed.

“Okay, I guess. Just―um...gimme a few minutes please.” You wondered if they could even hear your reply, given that even to yourself it sounded almost non existent. It didn’t matter. You were fleeing to the employee room without bothering to find out.

You stood in front of your locker, hands shaking in the slightest as you got changed―apron off, jacket on, backpack slung over your shoulder. The coolness of the thin metal offered some relief, you keeping your hands atop the closed door for a moment to calm your rapidly beating heart.

At least you’d get home quickly, you thought.

As they promised, the two were waiting in the seating area at the front of the shop, quietly making conversation with each other. The sound of your footsteps alerted them to your presence.

“Ready to rock and roll?” Hizashi stood up from his seat, his partner following suit.

You gave the room a quick once over, making sure everything was where it needed to be. “I think so.” A quiet ride back home was what you hoped for, but there was more to be discussed, much to your dismay.

Shouta held the door open for the two of you, letting you pause to lock up when you had all exited. “How was work today?”

The closeness of his voice as you turned the lock into place made you jump slightly, but you did your best to ignore the temporary fear. “Fine, I suppose. Like any other Thursday night…” You tried to hide the underlying anxiety with a smile, but you couldn’t tell whether or not it did the trick. Giving the front door an experimental tug to make sure it was locked, you turned back to let the two lead you to their car.

You felt a hand settle on the small of your back―Shouta’s hand―as he walked with you while Hizashi remained on your other side, slightly ahead of you. “How’s your head doing, is the medication working?”

The two walked at a casual pace, but to you it felt unbearably slow―what you wouldn’t give to just walk home without the admittedly unwelcomed company. “It still hurts a bit every now and then, but the pills keep the pain at bay for the most part.”

By now you were approaching their car which was parked on the side of the road, the blond opening it for you to step in. Shouta took up the responsibility of driving once again, Hizashi in the passenger's seat.

“Ya gettin’ enough sleep?” You were sitting behind the driver's seat, letting Hizashi have the opportunity to comfortably look back at you while he talked.

“Probably more than enough.”

You heard Shouta start the car before he responded. “That’s good to hear. It’s unfortunate that your work keeps you out so late though.” The car started forward, and you were thankful that at this rate it’d only take a few minutes to reach your apartment. You kept your eyes trained on the passing scenery to avoid any awkward eye contact.

“So when do ya think would be a good day to come over. I’ve got my radio show on Fridays and weekdays don’t always sit too well with teaching ‘n stuff.”

“Yeah...Fridays definitely won’t work for me either. Honestly I don’t really get much time for myself outside of work.” Not that you weren’t used to this reality by now, but every so often you wished your life allowed for just a little more free time. If anything, the horrid state you found your apartment to be in when you were forced to stay home would surely attest to that.

It would seem that Shouta agreed with his partner’s statement, “How about this Saturday? I can come pick you up at around 5:30.”

You contemplated whether it was even worth arguing over letting him give you a ride to their place. And then you remembered exactly what landed you in their car in the present.

You probably wouldn’t get very far with that fight.

“That should be fine.” It was only in your nature to want to offer some form of compensation. You knew that this whole ordeal was meant to be you repaying them, so you should at least try to cater to that reality. “I can make something to bring so you guys don’t have to do all the work. Cooking isn’t really my strong suit but I’m a pretty decent baker―maybe I could put something together for dessert?”

“Nah don’t bother with that babe. We’re supposed to be treating you, remember?”

“Exactly, and I doubt any of us will have room for desert. Another time maybe.”

“Yep! Besides, you being there’s all the sweetness we need.” You didn’t have to look at Hizashi to know the grin he had on his face as he threw around careless sentiments like his literal partner wasn’t sitting right next to him.

The car was pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex. To be honest you didn’t know how to respond to the nonchalant compliment, “Ah...yeah. Just let me know if there’s any change in plan I guess.” The vehicle came to a stop, you pulling your backpack into your lap while unbuckling the seatbelt.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” This time you didn’t make the mistake of looking at Shouta as he talked, for fear that his glare would burn holes through your skull. Instead you pretended to fiddle with something on your bag while responding.

“Yeah, thanks for the ride.”

The car door unlocked, letting you step outside into the brisk fresh air. Before you could close the door you heard Hizashi calling out to you, hand placed behind the headrest of his partner’s seat as he turned to speak to you. “We can give you a ride home tomorrow after work if ya’d like. Shouta’s got nothin’ going on―it’d be no trouble.”

“No,” that was definitely not something you needed, “I’ve got something I need to do after work actually, but thanks for the offer.” There was nothing to attend to after your shift, but they didn’t need to know that. Lying was never something you were the best at, and you hoped the shakiness in your voice didn’t give too much away.

“Alrighty then songbird, just thought I’d ask.”

“Have a good night (y/n).”

You smiled at the blond facing you, “Thanks, you too.” Before they could get another word out, as at this point you felt they would take up more of your time if possible, you shut the car door. Once again giving a small wave before you entered the building, you found it all too hard to contemplate how you’d politely weasel your way out of this newly developed relationship after the ensuing Saturday night.

_____

Friday came and went as expected. Waking up with the familiar sluggishness plaguing your body, moving past the sensation to go about your duties―everything falling into place as routine. Meeting the demands of love-stricken individuals was as taxing as normal, but it was all you had to make you feel like you were contributing something valuable to society. At the end of the day it was worth doing questionable things to your health.

The slightly less honourable motivation in the form of decent tips was always an added bonus. Your co-workers mentioned a few times that somehow you always ended up with a higher profit than the rest of them. It made you feel slightly guilty, but the usage of your quirk was likely the reasoning behind the occurrence.

Nights like these always ended with more earnings than normal―given the sheer volume of customers compared to the typical weekday traffic. Right now you took solace in the reward as you usually do at the end of your shift, thumbing through the few generous bills you received.

Satisfied with the haul, you completed your mental checklist that you’d formed over time to ensure that all tasks were completed by the end of the day. Your keys felt heavy in your wearied hands as you locked up, turning on the heels of your feet in the direction of your awaiting apartment.

You’d be lying if you said you were surprised to see that the two mildly invasive heroes hadn’t checked in to see that you were actually busy after work. Not that you wanted them to―having to lie once again wasn’t in your best interest. Still, the phenomenon that was their recurring presence had not gone unnoticed. More often than not you found your thoughts drifting to past experiences with them, and therefore regrettably resurfacing some unpleasant feelings.

For now however, you did your best to fixate on other, less mentally damaging things. In light of recent events you chose to take the long way home, inwardly shuddering as you passed the alleyway which you ever so carelessly ventured into exactly a week ago.

Maybe you were just hyperaware due to some lingering paranoia, but you could’ve sworn you could make out rustling in certain places around you―places that shouldn’t exactly be making that much noise.

Behind you. No...above you? Or was it both―the sounds distinct but lacking just enough to throw off your comprehension to make a full analysis of their origin.

Forget about it for God’s sake. You’re tired. It’s been a long day and you’re anxious because you got jumped just seven days ago in the same area.

But you could hear it.

Shifting in the shadows. Muffled but there all the same.

Footsteps?

The possibility had your heart rate growing faster by the second.

Not footsteps, just your mind playing tricks on you. You’re okay.

Unconsciously, your pace grew quicker, the patter of your shoes hitting the pavement sounding off below you. In the midst of your panic riddled thoughts you failed to register that you’d reached your destination.

An audible sigh escaped your lips as you observed the towering building with gratitude.

You kept up the hastened strides, reaching your apartment in good time. The time between stepping through the threshold of the abode and when your head hit your pillow was a blur―but really those monotonous details weren’t all that imperative.

As much as you wanted to get a good night's sleep, your subconscious had other plans. You reached the state of deep slumber that you desired, but it was riddled with offending nightmares.

Dark looming figures in the corner of your eyes, disappearing when you tried to get a good look at them. Running from something that placed a deep set fear into your very being, despite not having even seen what the atrocity was.

It left you to wake in a cold, sticky feeling sweat. Disheveled and disoriented, the time didn’t quite matter―wanting only for the feeling of trepidation to dissipate so you can return to a hopefully more peaceful sleep.

_____

Keys clattered loudly on the glass countertop of the side table in the entryway as Shouta haphazardly emptied his pocket’s contents. The sound of a running shower could be heard on the floor above him, making the presence of his boisterous partner known. He removed the heavy combat boots of his hero costume and lazily sauntered to the shared bedroom.

By the time he got there the shower had turned off, and he occupied himself with changing out of his attire for something less restricting in wait for the blond to make an appearance.

He’d just finished getting settled when Hizashi exited the attached washroom to their bedroom, hair still damp and lightly soaking the t-shirt he’d thrown on. “Well, don’t keep me waiting’”

The voice hero leaned against the headboard of their bed, “She didn’t have any plans, I watched her walk straight home after her shift and she never left the apartment either.”

Hizashi’s usually persistently bright smile faltered, “Ah...she probably forgot about them or something.”

“Do you really believe that?”

The disappointment was evident in the blond’s face, “Would she really just lie to us like that, even though we’re tryin’ to help her?”

The erasure hero sighed, “She’s self-destructive, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen her put herself in danger without second thought.”

“God, Shou’―and she’s always shakin’ like a leaf. I don’t even think the poor thing realizes she’s doin’ it either.”

Shouta looked to the ceiling for a moment as if searching for an answer that would please his partner, “We can try and bring it up with her―see if there’s a reason behind all this.”

“And what if she lies to us again, huh? I can’t keep watching her hurt herself babe.”

At that the erasure hero stood up from his position on the bed, making his way over to the washroom in hopes of a shower relaxing his nerves. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let’s just see how dinner goes first, okay?”

“But what if she never tells us what’s goin’ on? I mean she’s already avoiding us for christ’s sake, what’s to stop her from―”

“If anything happens we’ll deal with it ‘Zashi. I don’t want to hear anything more of it until after we sit down with her, got it?” He paused at the doorway as emphasis, waiting for his partner's agreement on the matter.

“Yeah okay, sorry.”

“Don’t be, I care about her too, remember?” With that he closed the door before his partner could add to the conversation.

_____

When you did finally wake up from that hellish night, almost entirely riddled with disturbing dreams, you were left with a lingering feeling of dread. A pit in your stomach that remained persistent no matter how much you tried to think of something other than the incomprehensible yet sickening scenarios that unwillingly played out inside your head.

Looking at your phone didn’t help you settle into a more agreeable state either.

It was just past midday―giving you roughly five hours until you had to pull yourself together to sit through what was hopefully the last encounter with the two heroes.

For now however, you listened to the sound of the birds chirping outside your window―it was always easier to get lost in your surroundings than actively trying to solve your own issues.

Maybe by the time you had to leave you’d feel better. But even if you didn’t, the dull ache of ailment was always persistent in your life in one way or another―so what was one more problem?

End of Part 4

_____

taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riarora @glitterypinkkitty

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Monday 12 September 1836

7

12 10

No kiss fine morning and F50 ½° at 7 50 - out with one or other till breakfast at 9 20 to 10 ½ at the Lodge the plasterer gave me the Lodge keys - had finished his job - had Joseph Mann about spars for the Long goit cabin - gave him 5 and nails - had Mr. Husband - told him to see about the Whiskum cottage windows - Joseph M- thinks they can be made water tight by substituting wood frames for the lead ones - Mr. H- to see also about the pump removing into the house - Reuben ----- that lived with Mrs. Lawson will do the job finding pipe (1 1/4in. pipe 30 yards) and everything for £6.10.0 - Mr. H- advises fumigating with brimstone the Irish cottages in Hatters fold - will be done for 2/6 or 3/. Robert Mann and Matthew and Samuel taking out hall  cellar stuff-wood and Jack filling Mark Hepworth 2 one horse carts that cart stuff to the bottom of the coal pit-field - Robert Schofield and Joseph Sharpe breaking stone n the court and taking down bit of old garden terrace wall over against the west tower - 2 sawyers from Hainsworths came this morning (1st time) to saw up deals - to stay a week - the York joiners began fitting up menservants necessary in the new court - 2 masons hewing as usual for the west tower 2 masons (Abraham and James) and 2 lads preparing and setting rag against the coal-place in the new court - wrote the above of today till 11 ¼ - above ½ hour making memoranda - then looking at measurement of Hilltop and writing over in ink memoranda in little rough book - then till 12 50 wrote and copied letter in answer to the one I had last night from Miss Vickers - in great hope of having heard of a housekeeper likely to suit me - presume it is the Miss V- who was teacher at the Manor school at York ‘and whose knowledge of cookery and confectionery, and whose of the arduous duties of a housekeeper in an establishment consisting of several servants might not be sufficient to fit her for the place at Shibden hall - Miss Lister very much hopes that Miss Vickers will soon meet with a better situation’ - from 12 55 to 4 (except called off a little by A- copying plan of the H-x Sutherland property for her sister) and had Mr. Hoyland for a few minutes about painting the Lodge (the painters there this afternoon) from 12 55 to 4, with these interruptions, wrote 3 pp. very small and close to M- thanks for her 2 letters and valuable help - will let Adney manage for herself about the woman servants in future gave M- copy of great part of my last letter to Mrs. Bull - and a copy of Miss Vickers’s letter!!! and my answer ‘Mary I have you all this to amuse you, if so be that you can be amused by such an offer’ (Miss Vicker’s) ‘sealed by a little bird ‘scaping from a cage under the watchword of our day, Liberty - I have had enough for all my life of hiring housekeepers and housemaids - ask how often the Lawtons give their servants great coat - if the brick oven is heated with wood or coal, etc annoyed sorry the gardener did not call to thank M- afraid the accounts from the minster yard are but indifferent - ‘your disappointment is mine - I should have been delighted at your coming - at last, (never too late), you have resolved wisely and kindly - and I am confident you will be more and more of my opinion - Be the secrets of our hearts open or not, the world has some right to have its prejudices attended to - who was once more convert to this opinion than Mary’s self? who has done sacrifice to it more frequently than she? and would you now despise the creed that you have held so long? But think not of anything save the good you are coming to do - you can, and will give Adney very valuable assistance - you will do great service to us all, and you will be more than satisfied - the idea of coming to see my aunt after A- and I were gone, was perhaps but an idea - a vain imagining that could have no reality - my aunt is very poorly - we have no thought of leaving here, and may not have long to stay on her account - she has so often and so extraordinarily rallied, who can say when she has done so for the last time? But I have no hope of her continuing very long - she has told me several times to give her love, and say, she should be very glad to see you - I am sure she would be very glad, and I should have laid stress upon this before, had I not

SH:7/ML/E/19/0107

thought it more kindly considerate to your feelings to avoid the subject altogether - you must take such board and lodging as you can get, in the present state of the house and household - Trust me, il n’y a que le premier pas qui conte - all afterwards will be easy, and comfortable, and satisfactory - if you are not in a hurry about plans for Miss Salmon, we had best talk the matter over - I think it will require much careful arrangement to insure its success - In Paris it is easy to spend money, and difficult for a stranger to live comfortably on small means’ ...... should have the n° of pupils certain for the 2 years - scarcely think £500 a year with 5 pupils enough for everything - it ‘would require a clever head, - or rather 2 clever heads, one to keep the house, and one to keep the young ladies - the latter ought never to be left - I fancy the manner English people keeping schools in Paris, are either well versed in the manners and prices of the place, or are in some sort of partnership with  some French person or other foreigner who can keep the cash-book straight - I dare not trust myself to name other places than Paris - but there are where climate is better, and living and house rent cheaper, and masters good enough to teach French - of course, everything is the best (except climate) in Paris - but it is a charming, dear place - Let us talk all these things over - your last dated letter (the 2 last came together) seems to me the kindest I have had from you since the spring of 1834. ‘when I have the object set before me of being of the least possible use to you, self is altogether forgotten’ - a golden sentence - kind in expression, - invaluable in dead - Is not that affection deepest which seeks to serve its object bests?’ - shall be glad to hear she has made up her mind about Percy - grieve over the failure of the Wiesbaden scheme - out 4 for ½ hour - then wrote all but the 1st 13 lines of today till 5 (rain sent me in at 4 ½) A- off to Cliff Hill between 2 and 3 pm and not returned at 5 - till 5 35 wrote the ends very small and close and finished my letter to M- afraid she is far from well - will not speculate or ask questions no w- will judge for myself by and by ‘I hope and think your visit will do you good’ ..... glad she is so engrossed with her schools - ‘you cannot live without constant employment - you never could - you were always active and busy - the prepossession never leaves me that your health will be better sometime hence, and that your measure of happiness will far exceed your present expectation - Adney begs me to say how very much she feels obliged to you for your kindness in promising to help her with her school - you will do her a great service; and she is not a person upon any service is thrown away - I am confident your coming here will be productive of much satisfaction and comfort to all parties - Mary! it could not be in my heart to reproach you for anything, but the weakness of yielding to some feelings, was unworthy of you, and undeserved by me - God bless you! Rouse up your good spirits, and come, and believe me always very affectionately and especially yours AL’ - had just written the last line at 5 ¾ - then out till 7 with Robert Mann, ordering work for tomorrow - the Low fishpond cannot yet be found out - read over A-‘s letter to her sister with plan of the Sutherland [Hall?] property and advice about the Greece field - very useful letter - sent off my letter to Mrs. Lawton, Lawton hall, Lawton Cheshire and to ‘Miss Frances Vickers Mrs. Gascoignes, Skinner Lane, Leeds ppd’ dinner at 7 ½ - coffee upstairs - A- read a little French - I  asleep on the sofa till 9 ¾ - then a few minutes with my aunt as I had been between dinner and coffee - would not take A- with me - my aunt in bed - not up today - very poorly - Mr. Jubb not well - sent to inquire after my aunt this morning - letter tonight from Mrs. Milne - thanks for the moorgame - about ½ fine and ½ shower day F50° at 10 pm reading Alphabet of Botany till near 11

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Part 2

well. head’s up- smut ahead. With the ‘mistaken person’ trope. Enjoy. @kriskukko​

Blood For Gold 

Part 2

Once the Count and Countess Morrigan finally left, you went up to your personal quarters to find three huge chests, one was chalk full of new jewelry, you expected it to be paste, but it was real, every last bit of it, but all of it from the moura stables and in the current style here in England. You also found over a dozen bolts of expensive and luxurious fabrics, also from the moura stables along with new shoes, soaps, perfumes, hair conditioners and lotions and a host of beauty treatments along with all kinds of makeup and other trinkets and treasures, then you noticed a few new books in the trunks and took them out and flipped through them to find a message written down on a small note between the pages, from a friend of yours who still lived at the stables. 

“My dearest Audra, 

I am writing you, hoping that this letter finally finds you as others have always returned to me without you getting a chance to read them, to let you know that the Morrigans have enlisted the stables to help them get you remarried as quickly as possible, and the stench of their desperation is rank. Beware of who they introduce to you, for I fear they will be worse than Edward ever was. I know you have been in mourning, and can only have visitors there, but if at all possible, make friends with your brethren in the feather. 

There is a few clubs in London, The Gold Finch, The Midnight Peacock, and The Green Barn, only mouras or moura descendants will be admitted into these establishments. Give your name and what estate you stayed at while at the stables as your password and they should let you in. Explain your situation to them, and they may be of some help and at least they might warn you of bad suitors and help steer you clear of other dangerous people. Now that you have finally been granted your freedom, I would hate to see you lose it over anyone who is not worthy and who can not make you happy. You deserve everything you want Audra. Do not settle. Embrace your choice to choose wisely for yourself. 

Your friend always, 

Callellea.” 

If she had been right there with you, you would have embraced her and cried tears of happiness and relief as you wondered how many other mouras were here. 

You agreed to go out with Agnes on Wednesday, that left tonight and tomorrow. Even though you were tired, you didn’t have much time to waste.

“Malcom, I need my carriage, again, I need to go to The Gold Finch.” You implored as you took the note and quickly turned on your heel and grabbed your purse and quickly went down the stairs. 

“Where?” Malcolm asked as he got his coat back on. 

“There are moura clubs here in London, let’s pray they’re still open on a Monday night- The Gold Finch- The Midnight Peacock and The Green Barn, I must go to at least one of these places tonight.” You insisted. 

“Of course, right away Countess.” He readily agreed. 

The Gold Finch was the closest and surrounded by other various shops but when you walked in, it was clearly some kind of tea shop. 

“How can I help you miss?” The kind gentleman asked behind the counter. 

“Hello, my name is Countess Audravienne Saharrazat Morrigan from the Kalina Estate of Dorierra, I was told by a friend still there that I would be able to find brethren of the feather here.” You carefully told him before he went and got a big book from underneath the counter and began flipping pages to find what you were referencing. 

“Which Quarter is Kalina in?” He asked. 

“It used to be the Sultanate Quarter, but now it’s considered to be in the Hanging Garden Quarter.” You answered as he got to the right section. 

“Ah, yes, Kalina. Do you have any marks?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You answered as you unbuttoned your coat to reveal your chest so he could see the marks on your skin, which looked like many gold peacock feathers gracing your skin, and even turned around so he could see them on the back of your neck where the intricate pattern of your moura collar on the back of your neck along with the gold peacock feathers gracing your shoulders which made him smile because your “wings” covered you from shoulders to legs and wrapped around all of you. 

“Welcome Miss Saharrazat, you’ll do better going by your stable name than your English name at all the moura clubs. From now on, your password will be your house name- Kalina. Right this way.” He urged as he flipped open the gate on the counter so you could pass through and then led to one of two doors behind the counter, one would lead to the shop’s back room and the other led to a staircase and once you ascended it, you were met with a huge room full of other mouras, not all of them had the golden hair or the gold eyes, but they all had at least one gold feather on their skin and the moura collar around their necks or at least the moura mark on the back of their neck with bright, eager, happy smiles to see someone new, as they all gasped excitedly at seeing you and especially once you took off your coat and gave it to the little coat room and your moura marks became visible, then they happily cheered and you were practically ambushed by hugs from everyone as you couldn’t help but start crying at finally receiving the warm welcome you had been craving since you got here, all of them eager to know how you got here and what had happened and word about if the stables had changed much and it was better than coming home before you explained your situation and they brought you to the only elder moura there that night- Yalin who sat at her own table with her own preferred older group of friends. 

“I need your help. The Count and Countess Morrigan wish to push me off and marry me off to someone as soon as possible, and I am going dress shopping on Wednesday with the Countess. I have had peace in my mourning, and now they are going to steal it away because they think me a leech.” You worried to Mother Yalin who was like a kind grandmother to all. 

“What do you need?” Yalin asked thoughtfully.  

“I need to know how to really navigate this place, at least socially, I need to know who to stay away from, who will mean me harm, who will abuse me, or take me for my “dowry” and then leave me devastated. I have played this game once before and lost. If I am to marry I want it on my terms. I want to marry for love this time or not at all. And I can not find it if annoying gnats and flies are buzzing around me like I’m rotting fruit or meat. I need guidance and friends who I can trust. And the Morrigans are the last ones I trust.” You divulged. 

“Does breed matter to you?” Yalin asked thoughtfully. 

“You mean nobleman or commoner?” You asked. 

“No, I mean human, moura, orc, troll, tiefling, ifrit…” She began to list off. 

“I suppose not.” You shook your head no. 

“What about their means?” She asked. 

“I have some saved, the Morrigan’s are giving me a dowry of 50 thousand pounds, but preferably I would like to marry someone who is wise with money, not stingy but discrete but still a little generous, at least towards me, careful, thoughtful, respectful, kind and honest if at all possible.” You specified. 

“So some fortune to keep you comfortable but not destitute.” She realized. 

“Yes.” You confirmed. 

“And because you are a Countess now, the Morrigans will not let you go to a commoner, for fear of tarnishing ‘the family honor’, right?” She ventured. 

“Probably.” You nodded. 

“But because you are a widow, you can not enter the royal family.” She noted. 

“Thank the heavens of which we used to reside.” You murmured which got her to laugh. 

“How long do you have?” She asked. 

“A fortnight, two weeks, my first “reintroduction” into society will be the Friday after at a ball at Havenfield.” You answered. 

“Oh, that’s my sister’s estate, I will also be there, and I can help guide you there then as well, and at least it’s not this Friday. Tell you what, there are four places for moura here in the city. You’ve found Gold Finch, Gold Finch is for chatting and cards over tea. Midnight Peacock is for dancing and The Green Barn- well that’s for business, any kind of business you want to partake in, invest in, even some gambling.” She revealed. 

“And what’s the fourth?” You asked. 

“Red Velvet Rope- it is the house of sin for a moura, and where anyone can find a moura to rut with, not all moura are in high society. They have the best casino, and the most handsome, talented and eager men who can ring your bell seven ways from Sunday or even women and everything in between who can do that too. But my advice to you, only go there for the gambling or the sex, nothing more. Otherwise you could face ruination.” She sagely advised. 

“Of course.” You nodded in understanding. 

“Give me about a week to compile a list for you of suitable partners for you, this weekend, go to the Midnight Peacock and dance till your feet are sore, go to the Velvet Rope, get all the kinks out of your pipes, and then go to The Green Barn and find a way to make what you’ve managed to save away work for you better than any man, in that order.” She advised. 

“And what would you like in return?” You asked. 

“A bar of that Dorierra soap and whatever else you can spare. The soaps that they make here are so harsh on my skin. Almost makes me not want to bathe.” She advised. 

“Is there a way to get the recipe and bring it to one of the soap makers here?” You asked. 

“No, the soap is probably a trade secret solely for the moura stables and most of these companies are about mass product, not quality of their product. I think the soap is more costly to make than it would probably be worth to anyone else not in the moura stable. It’s been decades since I set foot in Dorierra, and I long to have a piece of it again.” She said. 

“Give me your address and I’ll deliver it to you myself tomorrow.” You offered her before she gave you her address. 

“Oh, by the way, I shared a ride on the train with two perfectly agreeable gentlemen today, Duke Demsey Voyambi of orcish decent and Count Javyn Jabire, who was troll, what can you tell me about them?” You asked her curiously. 

“I don’t know them well personally, they do a lot of industrial business, I do know that much, but I can find out about them.” Yalin offered. 

“Thank you.” You thanked her before you sat down at one of the tables and played all the card games that were popular in the stables and making many new and fast friends. 

However you didn’t exactly follow Yalin’s word of advice, to hear that The Red Velvet Rope existed had you aching to be touched lovingly and reverently, if not passionately so the very next day after you dropped off what you could to Yalin, you went to the Red Velvet Rope the very next afternoon, because if you were going to suffer through a day of dress shopping with Agnes, you were going to at least do so in as pleasant a mood as possible. 

“How can I help you miss?” The Ladies entrance Abbess - Annie, asked you as you came in. 

“I need every kink in my pipes cleaned out and I want to get railed so hard I have a hard time walking after.” You said which got her to laugh. 

“How long has it been lass?” She asked. 

“Far too long,” You answered honestly. 

“Aye, you’ll be needing Draft then, drink this cup of tea, it will ward off pregnancy, you take a cup before and a cup after and it’ll do the trick and then go to room 17, here’s your mask to protect your privacy too Lass.” She told you as she handed you a gold silk mask which you readily put on before she opened up the velvet rope that covered the entry way to the stairs then ascended the stairs giddily after you drank the tea, familiar with it because you drank it regularly when you were married to Edward and the last thing you wanted was a child to tie you to that family. 

“Wait, did she say16 or 17?” You asked yourself once you reached the hallway as you noticed someone going into fifteen and another going into 18 at the same time while 17 was still in use, very loudly too. 

“Sixteen it is.” You decided as you went into the room and found it clean and ready and quickly got undressed and even put on your own gold lace stockings, instead of your usual white ones and decided to lay seductively on the bed and wait for “Draft” whoever he was. 

Meanwhile Demsey hadn’t been able to get Countess Morrigan off of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes her gold eyes were always behind his eyelids, her delightful giggle in his ears and her smile swooning his heart. He was growing so frustrated, he wanted to bury himself to the hilt in her and had been so ridiculously attracted to her when he met her again. He had asked around and found that there was a moura brothel in London, surely if he could use one, he could get rid of these distracting and frankly improper thoughts about Countess Morrigan. 

It was barely after lunch time and Demsey found himself across the street from the place and walked into the gentlemen’s side of the building which faced one street while the women’s entrance was on the other.  

“What can I do you for?” The Abbess- Maria asked since there were two counters, one for the gambling hall which sprawled out before him and the other next to the stairs, roped off by thick red velvet ropes. 

“I’d like a rut with a moura please.” He confessed. 

“Male or female or something in between?” She asked as she looked at her book. 

“Female.” He specified. 

“Well, I have Bess, Audrey, and Lilly.” She listed off. 

“Audrey,” He decided, because Countess Morrigan’s name had been Audravienne and that was close enough for him. 

“Good choice, that’ll be five pounds, then Sir.” She stated before he readily handed it over and she handed him a gold silk mask to tie around his face so he would not be recognized by anyone else using the place. 

“Room 16, she’ll be in there shortly.” She offered before he nodded and ascended the stairs after she unhooked the rope from it’s place to let him through before he ascended the rest of the stairs before he found a long hallway with red silk wallpaper and red carpeted floors before he walked down the hallway and the right room and all the air crashed from his lungs to see a very sexy moura splayed out on the bed seductively. 

“Well you are built like a draft.” You purred as you sat up and started to stalk down the bed, your gold eyes practically glowing as all of your gold moura marks started to pulse in anticipation as Demsey dropped everything onto the floor as his pupils dilated as wide as they could as he took the sight of you in while his cock was stiffening in his pants while he slowly walked over to you, afraid that if he breathed wrong, you would vanish. 

“So many clothes,” You remarked as you stood on your knees at the foot of the bed and were still chest height with him and reached out to grab them before he realized what he had been in there for as he readily tried to strip out of all of his clothes all at once as you cackled and helped him, remembering how Edward seemed to wear more layers of clothes than you usually did and the second his chest was bare to you- you greedily attached your mouth to one of his pert nipples and began to suck on it while expertly taking off his trousers to get at your prize which caused him to moan. 

Draft was the perfect name for him because he was practically hung like a draft horse too as you had to use both hands to stroke him. 

“Oh Audrey.” He murmured as his hands reached around you and started stroking your petal soft skin and watching the golden feathers on your skin continue to pulse and glow, it was hypnotizing. 

“It’s Audra, Draft.” You corrected in a purr as you noticed his cock practically shot a load of precum all over your hands as he seemed to become putty before you. 

“Call me Demsey then.” He answered which got you to giggle, oh you were going to pretend he was the good Duke now. 

“Perfect, now plough me so hard I won’t be able to walk straight Demsey.” You ordered huskily and that was all the instruction you needed to give him before he practically grabbed your face and kissed you deeply, passionately, like he was pouring his soul into it as he pinned you to the bed and entered you rather roughly, which you needed as your legs had already fell open as wide as they could to accommodate him and he was so large, you finally didn’t feel underwhelmed at the sensation, if anything you were almost overstuffed, but not painfully so before he worked up an earnest rhythm that had your moura marks alight in an equal rhythm with his movements as he feasted on your neck and chest and kissed you like a man starved as you finally felt all the lust you had been lacking in your life breathe into a zealous fire that burned oh so brightly and your heart and soul were being consumed by it.  

In almost record time he was hurtling both of you towards orgasm and Demsey was enthralled to see your moura marks practically constantly pulsing with your pleasure and when your whole body seemed to stiffen as all the marks lit up like soft sunshine as you keened, moaned and whimpered his name as your fingernails dug into the meat of his back and shoulders that indicated that you came which fed his ego and your inward fluttering spurned his own orgasm before he slammed himself into you as far as he could go and finally unloaded himself into you and you were grateful he had done it with good speed before he collapsed fully on you as you both took a moment to bask in the afterglow. 

“Thank you Audra,” Demsey thanked you gratefully, feeling, for now- sated and relieved. 

“Thank you Demsey.” You returned before you kissed him sweetly as the two of you happily helped each other get redressed before you went your separate ways out of the room, Dempsey going one way while you went the other, both of you happily and contentedly sighing as you practically pranced down the steps. 

“And?” Annie asked as she handed you a cup of tea once she let you through the velvet ropes. 

“Draft lives up to his name, built and hung like a draft horse, I’m doing good just walking down the stairs.” You sighed dreamily as you took the cup of tea offered and drank it down before you handed back your mask then left a very generous tip for “Draft” and left to go back home, you hadn’t left the place two minutes before Draft came down the stairs himself, his hooves clattering on the stairs since he was a moura minotaur before Annie handed him his tip from you. 

“Very well done Draft.” She cooed. 

“Thank you, do I have another lady waiting on me?” Draft asked. 

“Nope, you’re clear for now, just make sure the room is ready for the next client whenever they do come.” She answered. 

“Will do.” He said as he went back up the stairs at the same time Audrey was coming down to collect her next client as the maids were busy cleaning up room 16 after just finishing the others next to it. 

“Well done Audrey.” Maria grinned as she handed Audrey her own very generous tip from Demsey. 

“Thank you.” She grinned and put her tip into her coin purse before she got her next client from the casino part of the place.  

[tabletopmayhem]

What We Sacrifice

A repost for @jessicapendragon

"I think it's unfair you've been hiding your squire from us for just ages, Faust."

Sir Isobel Faust smiled the precise amount, bowed the exact amount of deference from knight to Baron, and watched out of the corner of her eye as the boy did the same from his own inferior position.  An appropriate obeisance, and the appropriate amount of fear in his eyes.

Good.

"Barone Rossi, please forgive me," she replied, rising from her bow, "I realize tradition is to bring them in immediately, but he was hardly ready.  I prefer good training to trial by fire."

"Quite, quite. Well, blaming a knight for being cautious just because of loss of amusement would be..."  The Baron trailed off, cupping a hand under his chin thoughtfully before finishing at last, "counter-productive."

"He came to me in dire need of sculpting, but hopefully I have at least given him the tools to help him finish it himself,"  Isobel said, slightly displeased that the boy's smile escaped for a half second before he restrained it.  

She'd despaired of getting him to hide his emotions, it wasn't a skill he seemed capable of.   When he was embraced, that carefree nature of his would become worse, not better as a Daeva. Well, everyone had their own strengths, and his...

"Admirable as always.  You, boy.  What is it your Maestra has been teaching you as of late?"

In that moment she became uncomfortably aware of just how many eyes were discreetly on them at this point in time.  It was unavoidable, having finally brought him.  After Vicontessa Viola had come snooping by the training manor and had attempted her little seduction, she'd known her days of keeping a tight leash on the boy were over.

That was never more apparent when he glanced up, smiled his perpetual half-smile, and lifted his shoulders in a little shrug.  She could see the instant the Baron's expression softened a little.  Damnable boy.

He was going to be so much trouble for her

"Everythin' she can get through my head, my lord, I got kinda a thick skull.  I'm doin' my best, though."

"Oh, he's local, how delightful!"  the Baron declared, as if he hadn't just spoken to the boy himself.

It had ceased to bother her some decades before, but she always found it a bit gauche for people who claimed to have impeccable manners.  Some people simply preferred the letter of the law to the spirit of it.

"Yes, Squire Leary challenged me to a duel a few years ago.  I admire his bravery greatly, even if he is a bit...rough around the edges."

"I lost," Connor supplied with a hint of a grin, as if that wasn't already obvious.

"Irish, that's a shame."

"Half," Connor replied, a little bit defensively, settling when she gave him a look of reproof.  "My mother was a Bianchi, my lord."

"Bianchi and Rossi, how amusing," the Baron replied wryly.

"This is the modern era, Barone Rossi," Isobel interrupted mildly, keeping her voice detatched.  "Such things have little bearing.  We are all Americans now."

"Quite, quite, but some of the older generation..."

"I am not Italian."

Silence for a few seconds, her face kept studiously blank.  Finally the Baron smiled, broad and agreeable, instantly setting her back up.  Not that she would ever let him know.

Never let them know.

"Of course not, Dame..."

"Sir," she interrupted, grateful that the boy managed not to smile.

She could see it in his eyes, though, she always could, the slight crinkling of the skin around them, the barest twitch of the corner of his mouth.

"Sir Faust. Forgive me.  Of course, you are so modern, I must defer to you in this discussion of the...modern age."

"You are as wise as you are gracious," she replied, pleased to see the Baron's interest in the squire had waned with the introduction of uncomfortable topics.

"I have some things that need moving next week, I was hoping I could avail upon you, Sir Faust, to accompany my...movers."

Ah, that was why he was being agreeable for once.  She smiled, inclined her head, and he returned the gesture before stepping back. She bowed, as did the boy, and the Baron turned on his heel at last.

When he withdrew she saw a slight relaxation of the boy's shoulders.  She wished she could have told him it was over, but she could see that vulture Viola already making her oh so discreet way towards them.  

"Squire, go find Sir Errol and tell him the Barone has requested my help."

"Now?  But you said I should stay close..."

She could see the minute widening of his eyes as he finally noticed the sidelong approach of the Vicontessa.  Ridiculous woman, in those overdone ballgowns that looked as if she was playing Cinderella in a highschool play.  Of course, they cost more than any school could boast in a year's budget.

She did try not to let such thoughts rankle.

The important thing now was getting her squire out of this pit of Ventrue, who would greedily hunt a Daeva-to-be regardless of whether their heart still beat or no.

"Yes sir, you got it, sir,"  Connor agreed in a hurry, turning on a heel and all but racing away.

He remembered his manners three steps in, luckily, and she tossed away the instant reproof that normally she would file for later.  He was doing well. How could she chide him, when this was a cage full of lions and he was little more than a rabbit to them?

Her ridiculous boy- how proud she was of him.

A sidelong step, a gracious smile, and she intercepted Viola, bowing immediately so that she'd be forced to respond.

"Viscontessa. It's such a delight to see you again so soon, I have been looking forward to spending more time in your company."

The instantly sour purse of the other woman's lips relaxed into a smile, a forced riposte to her initial attack.

And the battle began.

It was fucking exhausting dodging people, last thing he wanted to be doing.  Sir had done a pretty good job of telling him what to watch out for, but...well, hearing it and living it were two different things.  At least the other squires were here, even though they acted real different outside of the training house.

Here it was like they were some kinda toys, things slightly more interesting than the other people he saw running around, doing errands, carrying messages.

She'd warned him about that, too.

Messages could be traps, they'd have to go straight to her.  If he opened them, he'd be seen as interested.  Other...humans, kine, they could be traps, too. They were just there to work for the Kindred, if one of them asked him to talk, or offered him something to drink, it could be real bad.

He wasn't supposed to take anything from anyone, unless it was to go straight to her.

That had been his mistake the other day, thinking he was safe in the training house. That Viola woman had just said she wanted help with her shoe, he thought he was being polite, but...

The memory had him pretty hot under the collar, made him sure he couldn't go straight back to Sir despite Errol telling him to go back to her.  Clearing his throat, he ducked off to the side, through a door into a room full of books.  He couldn't go back out there like this.

"C'mon, c'mon..."  he muttered to himself, wandering through the shelves, finding the quietest spot in the room.  "Cold showers, fuckin'...Ol' Gert naked...that time you got your guts stabbed out...Christ on a cross, man, the last thing you wanna do around here is have to jack off in the bathroom..."

It wasn't helping. Of course it wasn't fucking helping, nothing seemed to lately. Stuck in a goddamn pit of sin, it felt like, barely hanging on by his nails.  Sure, it would probably be easier to give in, and Isobel didn't care except that he didn't want to, but...

His eyes fell on a desk back in the corner, cleaned of papers but set up with a lamp and matching pen set that caught the light.  Looked like real gold, which made his fingers itch, but they mattered less than what else was on the desk.

A phone.

Breathing out a heavy sigh of relief, he raked back his hair and headed for the phone, leaning down and grabbing it, slinging it around.  The dial tone in his ear was comforting, and punching in her number was his favorite song, not even needing to look down at the numbers.

It rang four times, which meant she was studying.

"It's past midnight," Hannah answered with a hint of complaint.  

The tone of her voice didn't bother him, he was so relieved that it took every bit of stress away, washing over him all at once.  He sighed, and she gave a small, grumpy 'hmph' that just made him laugh.

"Sorry, baby girl.  You know I had this business thing tonight.  Hi."

"Hey.  I know, so I don't know why you're calling, I told you I had to finish writing this paper.  I said we could talk tomorrow, remember?"

The irritation in her voice didn't fade, which brought back the worry again.  She'd been really snappy lately, which he was usually so good at pulling her out of.  She always said he could always make her smile.

"Hannah...c'mon, baby, is it so weird that I just wanted to hear your voice?"

"Yeah, a little.  Are you drunk?  Of course you are, why would I be surprised? What is it, wine and...and cheese and midnight parties, huh? Meanwhile I'm over here completely buried in work, but you don't even care."

"Th'fuck? How'd we get from I just wanted to hear your voice to I'm drunk an' not carin' about you?" "You didn't show up to Mikey's graduation.  You didn't show up to breakfast last week, you almost forgot my birthday..."

"Han, I apologized for all that, we talked about that.  You know I got a lot goin' on.  You know how hard it is for me to get away, to get up, I work real late."

"I have stuff going on, Connor!  I am working my ass off right now, you know. You're not the only one!  You act like you're the only one that matters, you call me in the middle of the night..."

"You're awake," he replied weakly, feeling the whole conversation sliding out of his grasp.

"I'm not every time!  And even if I was, it's just selfish!  You have gotten so...damn selfish!  Don't you ever think about anyone but yourself any more?"

Sudden rage overtook him, dragged up from who knows where, somewhere old and bad and always there.  He knew what his rage could do, he usually did such a good job keeping it down, but whatever she said had woken it up, brought it roaring out.

"Fuckin' selfish?  That's pretty fuckin' rich for someone whose 'hard work' is somethin' I'm payin' for. I'm sorry, I didn't realize workin' my fuckin' ass off so you could go to your fancy-ass college was such an inconvenience for you!  Don't worry, I'm sure the old house is still there, if you just wanna go back to livin' on the st-"

It died, suddenly, curling up and withering inside of him, replaced by a sudden fear.  

Shit.

It was silence then, the distant sounds of the party eclipsed by the thundering in his ears.  His stomach clenched, hand clutching the phone, and he finally managed a quiet, "...baby?  I'm..."

"Fuck you," she replied clearly, and the phone went dead with a click.

He listened to the dial tone for a good thirty seconds, and then swallowed, carefully hanging up the receiver and turning the phone back around.  Pulling himself up onto the edge of the desk he rubbed his face with both hands, letting out a long, slow sigh.

"...Happy fuckin' Birthday to me," he muttered quietly under his breath.

Nineteen.  Only three years left, she'd promised, before he could be free of this fucking in-between Purgatory and he could finally be Embraced.  And then, he'd figure out a way for Hannah to join him, so they'd never have to leave each other.

Just a little longer, baby...

The pit in his stomach said it was already over, but he'd gotten good at ignoring things he didn't want to hear.  She'd probably feel better in the morning, and he'd bring her something pretty to take her mind off of it.

It wouldn't work. That was why he loved her.

That was why he'd lose her.

[seijch]

ANNOUNCEMENT: NOT A HELLO, BUT NOT A GOODBYE EITHER

omg hi ... im like . ashamed to come back after saying brief hiatus in october and then disappearing off the face of the earth til FEBRUARY but under the cut i will be explaining myself and the following, if youre interested (and a tl;dr at the very bottom if you don’t wanna scroll thru this obnoxiously long post):

the reason(s) i was gone for so long

what i was doing during that time (its just a personal account yall can scroll past this idrc)

the status of those um . halloween requests

the future of this account

i. so . Hiatus .

i know. i know . i probably mentioned it when i made the announcement post, but my mental health likes to go on one of those rides. yknow the ones where you go like up rlly fast then down maybe and then up then DOWN .... its like that. i needed a break and every time i wanted to come back or thought about it, something would happen and i would get stuck in my own head.

a big reason for getting stuck in my head was (and i hate to admit this ... i hate to admit that i have Insecurities On The Internet) my feelings of inadequacy regarding my writing. i love to plot fics, i love concepts and characters and making little headcanons but i dont ... know if i love writing rn. and i thought for the longest time that like . whatever ill just push thru it its fine ill be fine but it kinda wasnt lmao you can kinda see it in my halloween reqs and what become of them when i get to that but i began to feel like nothing i had put out or would put out would hold up prose wise (and normally i dont feel like this im much more “idc its my life im living it” but thats not a rant for tumblr LMAO). i still feel like that -- like im better as a reader than a writer. but . You Know :-)

tl;dr: mental state go brrrrr

ii. anywhere here’s wonderwall

when i left, i was in a steadily decreasing mental and emotional state, made worse by a situation at work that really was a case of petty jealousy on my end and rlly isnt very consequential now despite how much pain and resentment it gave me when it Was a problem so i wont get into it. the tl;dr of november and december was me using work as an crutch and distraction -- i know my job, i do it well, it helped me not think about my responsibilities and obligations and inadequacies. of course, as the holiday season grew busier n busier i was scheduled so often that i moved 88 or so miles (according to my apple watch, which i ONLY wear at work since im never anywhere else outside my house) and fell into a cycle of showering n sleeping at my house before going back the next day. (theres definitely something to be said abt capitalism and “grind culture” here but once again its not the time or place snsjkdfds)

at the turn of the new year, i happened to remember a birthday card i hadnt filed away for safekeeping from a friend of mine that id been horribly out of touch with til that point. i started crying because i realized how out of touch id been in general up until that point. the month of january was great for me: i was focused, happy, and in a much better place than i had been before. the end of it brought me down focus wise and im hoping that enough time away from my distractions will refocus me bc i ... need it LMAO and though ive burned out from that level of productivity and gotten distracted again im ... trying to stay positive which i think is the most i can do 😁👍🏼

media wise, i got real into stardew valley (but burned out bc i played it extensively as a way to wind down after work), the pokemon platinum romhack renegade platinum (still havent finished it bc of school n i played it w the intent to see if i could nuzlocke it ... bitch its so hard but its so fun bc of it), briefly assassins creed: odyssey (im one of those ppl who completes an entire region before i move to the next so you can tell i burned out of that one + wouldnt have the time to properly devote to it even if i didnt), got back into genshin impact after pulling for xiao (after not touching it for like . months), and danganronpa. yes . danganronpa 😐 i Know. i stopped playing it after the second trial of the first game bc i was so hurt by the outcome and picked it up in late january only to get sucked in (thank god i had the foresight to buy the second and third games during the steam winter sale). rn im at the start of chapter 4 if anyone wants to come in my asks and um . talk to me abt danganronpa

tl;dr: I’m Into Danganronpa Now

iii. you realize halloween was three months ago right

i mentioned this in the first section, but i love to plot things. every request is plotted or at least has a solid foundation. i had fun detailing what concept i wanted to go with considering what i was given, and there were some bangers i might touch up in the future. but heres whats going to happen to the requests themselves:

there are two finished requests. one will be posted tomorrow and the other will be touched up (just bc i finished it doesnt mean its good 🧍‍♂️) and scheduled for next saturday. as for the ones i never got around to ...

i will not be finishing those requests. i hate to be That Person, but i feel like we all expected this 🧍‍♂️ what i will do is post all of my notes for each request in batches -- requests that have an @ to go with them will be mentioned in the post proper, but anon asks will be pictured. (there are some asks that came from blogs who are now deactivated but i wrote down all the prompts and remember most of those askers so ill cross that bridge when i get there) there will most likely be an excerpt or two simply bc i think i mightve written a few plot points or interactions in the form of bullet points. i rlly am sorry about doing this but i remember looking at my notion doc with all the prompts and feeling ... like i wasnt measuring up n it wasnt just to myself or to some intangible concept of “other” id constructed but it was instead to those who requested n actually WANTED to see and hear and read my writing and i ...... im gonna admit thats another big reason i avoided this site.

regardless, youll definitely get what i have (and likely more than just my bullet points and illegible handwriting).

tl;dr: im sorry. what i have in terms of plot, concept, and interaction for every request will be posted, but i cant say ill ever complete them and mean it.

iv. so what now?

well i mean . im not entirely sure how sold i am on haikyuu in the content creation department (as a creator n to a lesser extent, as a consumer). as mentioned previously, its no longer my primary focus. it doesnt mean im not into haikyuu anymore; i have a lot of love for those boys but i cant rlly say im even caught up w recent fandom activity and also havent even finished s4 pt2 LMAO thats on my to do list

and despite all that, i still want to share my plots n concepts and snippets and maybe even fics. it wont happen anytime soon. it might not even happen. but i mean . its better than me saying i wont write ever again shjdkfs but either way ill probably use this blog as a personal blog w the occasional ask game for dialogue prompts (those are always so fun i love making up aus to fit like . the most mundane prompts)

as for my works (past and any potential future), ive opened an ao3 acc here n ill be editing n possibly expanding on my old works to post there. tumblr, to me, is The x reader hub, but i figure more x reader fics on ao3 is never a bad thing.

ill be deleting/posting drafted posts to the queue since they were all meant to be queued anyway as well as (sorry again 🧍‍♂️) deleting or answering asks in the inbox. (moots if you get a notif from me saying i rbed your post from months ago ... mind your business) im very hard to get ahold of and its ... a problem. expect an overhaul of the nav n shit to reflect my new direction n also because i feel like i cant tell if my passion for carrd is shared by the majority HSDKLFS maybe its better to read my info in a normal post ykwim .......

and of course . if youve read all this n decided im no longer worth the follow, i sure as hell cant stop you. thank you for wanting to, at some point, hear what i have to say -- it means more than you think.

tl;dr: writing will be edited and reposted to ao3, this blog will be a personal blog with a hint of writing (sometimes)

the tl;dr to end all tl;drs:

im back! i wont be as active as i used to due to a lessened interest in haikyuu in general, but i have an ao3 acc now where all my past work will be edited, possibly expanded, and reposted. any future work will also find itself there. my halloween requests will be posted in batches as incomplete concepts, plots, and snippets of scenes; i wont be promising to finish any of them.

there are still fic concepts im attached to and want to finish, but i cant promise any more writing on my end. this blog will be a personal blog with maybe writing, not a writing blog with my personal thoughts all over it.

regardless if you stick around or not, its been crazy sexy cool (equal emphasis) being on haikyuu tumblr even tho i wasnt around for long ... even tho its not my main focus anymore, im still excited to see what the future might hold 🤝

love, ari 💌

[bytheangell]

Happy Friday, friends! I have no idea where this week went, to be entirely honest. I feel like I blinked and it was over, which also means the month is nearly over as well which ALSO felt like a blink and I’m continually convinced that time is fake. I made an impulsive hairdresser appointment and shaved off half my hair. I, uh, definitely decided to make it too short OOPS but the good news is that I like the way it turned out, even if it wasn’t what I was aiming for entirely! It’s a fun adventure and I’m all for trying new hair things since it’s just hair and it’ll grow back! I also got my delivery of fun coffee flavors I ordered a few weeks ago that I’m now very enthusiastically making my way through. <3 (also at this point I’m just going to stop mentioning the horrific amount of Critical Role I’m making my way through to try and catch up, just assume it’s way more than anyone reasonably should be watching in one week)

Reading-wise, I ended up doing the exact opposite of what I wanted to and read both books at once, working my way through the book club book a little bit each day when I could sit and take notes for the discussions, but listening to the Year of the Witching audiobook while I did things like cleaning or my makeup in the morning. I’m about 1/4 through The Year of the Witching and a little over halfway through So You Want to Talk About Race. Which will be a problem when Chain of Iron comes out Tuesday and I drop both of them for that fjsdklfjdlksjflksd. Maybe I’ll just spend my day off tomorrow powering through one of them. 

Writing-wise, I finally got one of my tumblr prompts written and posted, and have another nearly completed! Yes, it took me nearly 2 months, but I AM MAKING PROGRESS. I swear if you send me prompts I haven’t forgotten them I’m just extra slow lately :/ Focusing most of my writing time to at night seems to be the key for productivity right now so I’m going to work on making that shift into a steadier block of time for a better habit of writing daily again. 

Aaaaaaand that’s about it here! It’s finally starting to get nicer out and I cannot wait for the weather to be warm enough that I want to exist outside again. I hope you’re all staying as safe and happy and healthy as possible, and that you have some things lined up for your weekend/upcoming week that you enjoy! <3 as always, my asks and messages are always open if anyone wants to chat about TSC/SH, or share some book/music recs, or just shout into the void about life in general! <3 

[rhetoricalrogue]

Untitled angst for your Thursday evening.  A slight re-writing of the post-Carnival Operation events, featuring Adam and my Detective Aubrey.

Aubrey’s key slid into the lock and she leaned against the doorframe, hand hovering over the doorknob.  There was something unsaid between her and Adam, and she chewed her lip while trying to figure out how to broach the subject.

“You’re tense,” he commented, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat.  “Is it about...your friend?”

She closed her eyes at the tone that he used.  Do you have feelings for her? “I don’t regret telling you all that Bobby and I have a past,” she started slowly, turning to face him and raising her chin high. No, I do not.  “But please don’t use that tone when speaking about him.”

She watched as his mouth curled downwards into a deep frown.  “Are you worried about him?”

“It would be heartless of me not to be worried.”  She took a deep breath.  “Do you have time to come inside?”

The frown never shifted from his face, but he nodded.  “It would be wise to check your apartment for dangers,” he agreed, following her in as she opened her door and dropped her keys into the little ceramic dish shaped like a fox that sat on her entryway table.  Her boots came off next, then her coat.  Walking around in her socks, she took stock of her living room - sofa moved over, the easy chair next to it overturned, her coffee table on its side and all the contents that had once sat upon it strewn out nearby - and made her way into her kitchen to fill up her electric kettle.  Aubrey grabbed her favorite mug and plopped two bags of peppermint tea inside it before adding a generous dollop of honey and several spoonfuls of sugar.

“I very nearly married Robert Marks,” she started, her normally quiet voice sounding loud in the silent apartment.  She watched as Adam paused in righting her furniture, his movements deliberate as he placed things back where they belonged from memory.  A small part of her had to wonder if his precise movements were to keep himself from breaking any more furniture, or if something of hers would join Nate’s end table before this conversation was over.  “We dated for almost ten years and lived together for eight of them.”

“Apparently that did not come to be.” 

She flipped off the kettle as it finished its heating cycle and added the water into her mug.  “No, it didn’t.”

“What happened?”

Aubrey made her way over to the sofa and curled one leg underneath her.  She flexed her left foot, the same foot Adam knew had been injured to the point of her retiring early from her career as a dancer.  “I met Bobby during an interview.  At the time, he was a reporter for a prestigious Arts and Entertainment magazine in the city and was doing an article on the rising stars of the dance world.  As one of those up and coming dancers, we sat down at a cafe for our interview.  That interview turned into an invitation for lunch, and then a dinner date the next week.”  She cupped her mug in her hands and held it to her chest, not so much to drink it, but more for the warmth it provided.  “I was new to the city, I didn’t know anyone beside the people I’d made friends with in my company, and here was this charming guy, paying attention to me and making me feel like the most important person in the world.  I was young and impressionable.”

Adam moved away from the furniture and strode towards the windows, his hands pushing aside the gauzy white curtains as he checked for damage to the glass.  “You loved him.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, I did.  I loved him very much.”

“And yet you’re not with him.  Why?”

She frowned and set her mug down on the coffee table.  “Because he didn’t love me.”  She twisted her fingers in her lap.  “Don’t get me wrong, I think he liked me, and he never treated me poorly, but he didn’t love me the way that I loved him.  The way that I wanted someone to love me.”

She stared at the space between the sofa and the chairs, swallowing thickly as she remembered how Bobby had fallen, the blue and white swirls of whatever disease the intruders had infected him with spreading over his handsome features.  “He was going to propose to me.  I found the ring while I was packing up his stuff.”  She gave a bitter laugh.  “It was gaudy as hell, but oh, I would have worn it proudly.”

“Why did you leave him?”

“I didn’t.  He left me.”  She reached over and picked up the mug again, this time taking a sip.  “When I was the principal dancer, I opened so many doors that were otherwise closed to him.  Want an interview with a director? Aubrey can organize it.  Tickets to see an opera for free, with backstage access?  My reputation and connections could arrange it.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was using me to further his career.  And then when I got hurt…” Her breath hitched and she curled further into herself.

“He cut his losses.”

She nodded.  “Without his meal ticket opening doors for him, he needed to find someone else.  That someone else just so happened to be a stage actress too new to the scene to know he was already taken.  My friends tried to warn me, but I wasn’t worried.  I was convinced that she was another of his close friends.”  Tears prickled at her eyelids and she angrily scrubbed them away.  “I was so stupid.  At least he had the decency to stay with me while I recovered from surgery, even if that meant he was sleeping behind my back for the better part of a month before he finally went you were my well of info, but now that well’s run dry.  No hard feelings, Aubs.”

Adam clenched his hands into fists at his sides.  “He didn’t deserve you.”

“I know that now.  Didn’t make it hurt any less then.  I just lost the one thing I was most passionate about and then the man I was ready to spend the rest of my life with all in the span of a few weeks. I had to get out, so I packed my belongings and came home.  I wasn’t sleeping at night, so volunteering for the night clerk position at the station felt like I was at least doing something productive instead of wallowing in grief.  I liked it so much that I enrolled in police academy training, and the rest is history.”

He seemed to hesitate, but eventually sat down on the edge of the sofa next to her.  “I understand why you’re upset about him now,” he said.  “I apologize for making light of your worry.”

“Thank you, Adam.”  Aubrey took another deep breath before turning so she was facing him.  “You should know by now that I respect you.  And you should also know by now that I...have feelings for you.  Feelings that I haven’t allowed myself to feel for anyone in the past four years.  I want to be as open with you as I can, which is why I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

She twisted her fingers again and pressed her lips tightly together, almost as if she could keep the words she was about to say at bay.  “Before the attack, I kissed Bobby.  Had we not been interrupted, I probably would have slept with him if he had asked.”

Adam paused for the briefest of seconds as he let what she just said sink in before he shot up from the sofa.  “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know that if...when Bobby wakes up, it’s the first thing out of his mouth!  I wanted to tell you first so it wouldn’t come as a shock.”

“Why would it even shock me, Detective?”  His arms were crossed in front of him almost as a shield to deflect whatever she said next.

“Because of whatever,” she gestured towards him.  “This is between us!”

“There is -”

“No.” she stood up and faced him, her arms stiff at her sides.  “I heard you talk with Nate tonight.  He can tell, just as I can that you feel something for me.  The carnival?  That picture?  Adam, that was real.  You can’t stand here and tell me otherwise.”

He sneered.  “If it was so real, then why were you so willing to sleep with your ex-lover tonight?”

“Because I was upset!  Jesus, Adam, I just…” she ran her fingers through her short hair, pulling at the strands in frustration.  “To hear you say that you felt nothing for me hurt, then for Bobby to show up when I needed someone the most...Look, I know it was wrong and I know that I would have regretted it tomorrow, but I’m so fucking tired of having something I want dangled in front of me only to be pushed aside and I wanted someone to touch me, someone to want me, even for only a moment.”

She stared up at Adam through blurred vision, willing the tears welling in her eyes to stay where they were, even as her lip trembled with each breath.  Those green eyes of his were cold, like flecks of glass, and her heart broke at the fact that she had been the one to dash any hopes of maybe someday being with him.  “The apartment is secure,” she said hoarsely, breaking eye contact.  “I’ll be fine by myself.”

Adam gave a slow nod before taking a step away from her.  “Lock the door,” he said quietly.  “I don’t want...it would be inadvisable to leave it unsecured.”

She silently nodded, hands clutching at the sleeves of her sweater.  How was it that only a few hours ago, she’d been so happy?  Aubrey followed him to the door, turning the deadbolt and the lock below it before pressing her palms to the door and looking out the peephole.  Adam was standing in the middle of the hall, his face to the door.  She watched as he raised a hand as if to knock, but then paused, letting his hand fall back to his side before slowly turning away.

Something hot slid down her cheek and she pressed her forehead against the wood, finally letting herself cry.  She let out a shaky breath, swearing that it felt as if someone was on the other side of her door, palms pressed just inches away from hers.

She was too much of a coward to look to see if it was the case.  Instead, she turned away and crawled into bed still in her street clothes, the blankets wrapping around her as she curled into a ball and fell into a restless, yet blessedly dreamless, sleep.

[dionysus-is-my-dude]

Seasonal Depression and Mental Health

So, as many of you know, I struggle with several mental illnesses, including anxiety, ADHD, OCD, and bipolar type II. It’s that time of year when it can be really dark and cold, and this can cause depression in a lot of folks. I had never believed myself to be someone who would struggle with that, but I normally work more hours and am not at home all day everyday other than that. So I’m actually dealing some seasonal depression myself. I’ve been doing better at taking my morning meds, which help with my mood swings and ADHD. But with my hours severely cut at work, and with me no longer going to university, I spend the majority of my time in my craft room. And it’s not like I’m not being productive. I’ve been writing and working on my digital art. But I just feel...down. I’m gonna start doing yoga, and maybe zumba since some videos are up on youtube. i did a short 10 minute yoga stretch this morning when I got up BEFORE BREAKFAST. Most days, nothing is more important to me than breakfast immediately after waking up.

I cleaned my bedroom. And once I’m finished with this post, I’m gonna clean the fish tank. Tomorrow is shower day. I may clean the craft room Monday. I hopefully have an appointment with my sleep doctor to just go over my sleep apnea and insomnia. I need new parts for my cpap, so I need to see her. I work more hours next week, so here’s hoping that next paycheck is nice cuz they’ve been super small lately.

Food wise, I’m trying to eat less pasta. More fish, chicken, and ground beef/turkey meals. Grandma got us an air fryer for Christmas and I’ve been using that a lot. I still have issues cooking. Like when I look at a recipe, if there are too many ingredients or steps I just close the recipe. But, less pasta, more meat, and I need to eat more fruit and veggies, of course. That’s just extra steps to a recipe, though, and that kinda irritates me.

I’ll be meeting a team of psychologists in March for my first autism screening. I’m really unsure of how I’m feeling. Probably a mix of hopeful and anxious. I just want it to be over and have an answer already. Patience is not one of my strongsuits.

Anyway, there’s my mental health update. Congratulations to all those who made it through this retched first month of 2021. May the rest of the year be better.

[cuttingthe-painter]

Vampire Boyfriend - Percy

My friend and I both both the same book of writing prompts and have started a challenge where we each write a story based off the same prompt. This is the first one I’ve done during this challenge, I hope you all like it! I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors, I finished this at 1am and am very tired.

Prompt: a: He read me a poem. b: And you let him live?

Also do vampires count as a monster boyfriend? I’m gonna be self-serving and just say they do! 

male monster x female reader

“He read me a poem,” you announced, busting through the apartment door. Avery looked up from her laptop, grinning at you like a madman.

“And you let him live?” You leveled her with a glare and dropped your bag, a solid thud filling the space between you two. 

“It was cute,” you huffed, yanking off your mittens and scarf before unzipping your coat. 

“You hate poetry,” Avery laughed. She closed her laptop and sat up, patting the seat next to her.  You take your boots off before walking over to the couch and falling into her side. You let out a sigh as you sank into her warmth. “Tell me about this cute poetry, then.”

“So, Percy was walking me home from class, right?”  

“Right,” Avery acknowledged, nodding her head to urge me on.

“Well, he was telling me about one of his classes where they discuss poetry. He was going on and on until I finally told him ‘I hate poetry.’ And you know what he said to me?”

“What’d he say?” Avery asked, motioning for you to grab the chips off the coffee table for her. You leaned forward and grabbed the Doritos, handing them to her before you continued. 

“He said ‘you just haven’t read the right poems’ and laughed!” you exclaimed. You grabbed a chip from the bag, popped it in your mouth, and went on. “So Percy pulled a book out of his bag and opened to a bookmarked page, as if he had been saving the poem just to read to me. Honestly, Ry? It gave me butterflies.”

“I don’t know if it was that you liked the poem, or that you liked the idea of Percy reading you a love poem,” Avery teased, waggling her perfectly sculpted brows at you. You smacked at her playfully and sat up to your phone out of you pocket. You typed the name of the poem into google and pulled it up.

“Let me read it to you,” you offered, waiting for the link to load.

“Only if you make your voice all low and dreamy like Percy’s,” Avery snorted, using the chip bag to block your next swipe at her.  You roll your eyes before clearing your throat and beginning to read.

“Outside the sky is light with stars;

There’s a hollow roaring from the sea.

And, alas! for the little almond flowers,

The wind is shaking the almond tree.

How little I thought, a year ago,

In the horrible cottage upon the Lee

That he and I should be sitting so

And sipping a cup of chamomile tea

Light as feathers the witches fly,

The horn of the moon is plain to see;

By a firefly under a jonquil flower

A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.

We might be fifty, we might be five,

So snug, so compact, so wise are we!

Under the kitchen-table leg

My knee is pressing against his knee.

Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,

The tap is dripping peacefully;

The saucepan shadows on the wall

Are black and round and plain to see.”

You finish reading the poem and look up at Avery to gauge her reaction. She’s staring at you, a sparkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. She lifts another chip to her mouth and chews thoughtfully, slower than she would normally chew. Silence sat between you both, feeling thicker with every passing second. Finally, she swallowed her chip and laughed.

“He read you a love poem!” she cheered, kicking her feet in glee and falling to her side on the couch. “What year is it! What did you say?”

“I said thank you? And told him it was a nice poem.” She stilled, slowly turning towards you. Suddenly, she kicked out, striking you in the leg. “Hey! What the hell?” 

“You dummy! He read you a love poem and you said thank you? You might as well had said ‘Thanks but the feelings are not mutual!’” She mocked in a mediocre attempt at what you could only guess was your voice. “You’ve better not have blown it. Text him right now, ask him on a date.”

“I’m not going to do that, Avery! It’s fine.” She launched towards you, attempting to snatch the phone from your hands. You shot of the couch, cradling your phone to your chest as you ran to your room. “I’ll see him in two days!”

That night, you dreamt you sat on the porch of a cottage. The moon sat amongst the splatter of stars in the night sky, casting its glow onto you. Next to you sat Percy, dressed in a loose-fitting, white crew neck tucked into high waisted denim jeans. His normally dark, messy curls were tamed, gelled into a side swept wave. He sat with his right hand resting on your left, his fingers fidgeting with a ring on your finger. The stars reflected in his eyes as he turned to look at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but all you could hear was the roar of the sea in the distance. 

The next day, you weren’t able to focus on any of your work. After hours of staring at your books and computer screen, you gave up any semblance of productivity. The weather that evening was significantly warmer than the evening prior. Perfect, I can get out of the house without freezing my ass off, you thought. You got dressed, checked yourself out in the mirror to check that you looked somewhat presentable, and went to leave the apartment. You could hear snores from Avery’s room as you walked down the hallway. She must be taking what she calls her “evening nap”, meaning she’ll be passed out until tomorrow morning. You grabbed your wallet, keys, and jacket and made your way down the block. 

The night was warm, but accompanied by a chill in the breeze. The streets were fairly empty; cars buzzed by while you moseyed along. You weren’t sure where you wanted to go, but when the warm smell of coffee enveloped you, you made up your mind. The aroma of the coffee and pastries filled your senses when you pushed passed the door. The cafe was fairly empty, only a couple of tables were occupied and there was no line. You walked up to the counter and ordered yourself a chamomile tea, hoping it would help calm your anxious mind. 

When you sit with your order, you chuckle, noting the irony of Percy reading you a poem titled after your favorite drink. Time is lost when you drink your tea and read. You had forgotten where you even were until you hear a familiar voice to your right. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” a smooth, low voice asks. You look up, smiling when you met Percy’s bright hazel eyes. He pulled the chair out when you shook your head, sitting after he set his drink down. His chestnut curls fell into his eyes as he sat; he ran his fingers through them, moving them out of his face, before rubbing his pale hand over the shaved side. A lazy smile stretched across his face when he caught you staring. You looked down at your tea, attempting to hide the blush warming your cheeks. 

“I don’t normally see you here. What brings you tonight?” Percy asked, lifting his cup to his full lips and taking a sip. You tracked the motion, acutely aware of the way it made your stomach flip. 

“I was just feeling anxious around the house,” you explain, dropping our eyes and focusing on your hands on the steaming cup in front of you. “My mind has just been racing all day. I thought a walk would help, and then I saw the cafe and thought a tea would help.” There was an understanding look in Percy’s eye, he smiled reassuringly at you and knocked his knee against yours to offer some sort of comfort.

Under the kitchen-table leg, My knee is pressing against his knee.You furrowed your brow when the poem’s lines rang through your head, accompanied by a sense of déjà vu. Percy noticed the change in your demeanor and leaned forward, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours. His hand was unnaturally cold against your warmth.

“I could join you on a walk if you’d like,” he offered gently, his thumb absently rubbing circles into your skin. You nod, standing and pulling your jacket on. “Did you want another tea before we went?”

“Sure, that’d be nice.” Percy quickly stood and moved to the counter. You walked to the trash, listening to him order as you threw your cups away. Did he order you a chamomile? You assumed he would have just ordered you a typical black tea or something; you had never told him you prefered chamomile. Maybe he had noticed the scent of your tea while you both had been sitting. 

Percy met you at the door, two drinks in hand. You took yours and breathed in the warm aroma, confirming that he did indeed order you a chamomile. You were about to ask how he knew when he opened the door and guided you out with a hand on your lower back. That was a new thing he had started doing; touching in general was something knew between you both. You fell into stride alongside him and settled into a comfortable silence. You were the first to talk, your voice soft amongst the sounds of the streets. 

“Do you go there a lot?” you asked, tilting your head back in the direction of the cafe. “M’yeah,” he replied, swallowing a mouthful of his drink. “An old family friend owns the place, Rosie. I try to visit her every evening; it’s definitely easier Tuesdays and Thursdays since its on the way home from your place.”

“Did you grow up here? Is that why your family knows her?” you probed, excited to learn more about Percy’s youth.

“I guess you could say that,” he laughed, “I’ve lived a lot of places, but something always brings me back here.” His fingers brushed against your hand as you both walked, driving the butterflies in your stomach mad. You extended your pinky towards his, chasing the feeling. When your pinkies locked, he adjusted his hand and wove your fingers together. 

“What brings you back?” His thumb began running those lazy circles over your skin again, as if it were an answer. You looked up to him, admiring the contours of his face as you waited for a response. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip while he thought; you focused on the motion, thinking about what his lips might feel like against yours. What his teeth might feel like on your skin. Heat rose to your cheeks at the thoughts and your heart fluttered in your chest. Beside you, Percy let out a shaky breath, gently squeezed your hand and pulled you to a stop . 

“Can I show you one of my favorite places?” he asked, an emotion that you couldn’t place dancing in his eyes.

“Sure,” you answered, “I’d love that.” Percy guided you both through the town, only letting go your hand to let you text Avery your plans. Conversation always flowed naturally between you both, as if you had been friends for years, and this time was no different. You wanted nothing more than to curl up and listen to him talk to hours.

Vibrations pulsing in your pocket brought you out of your daze. You let go of Percy’s hand to shuffle your drink into it as your pulled your phone out. A message from Avery flashed on your screen; you typed in your passcode to read the message.

Did he shake your almond tree yet?  A winky face and some questionable emojis accompanied the text. A snort tore from you when you read the poor innuendo. 

“What’s so funny?” Percy asked, stepping into your space to look at the screen. You locked the screen and turned to face him, not realizing just how close he was.

“Uh, n-nothing,” you stammered nervously, breath hitching in your throat. His eyes flickered to your mouth when you spoke and you watched as his tongue darted out to run along his lower lip. You bit your own as you looked from his mouth back up to his eyes. 

“Ah, well we should continue then, we’re almost there,” he murmured huskily. You let out a noise, hoping it was one of agreement, and started walking with him. When you finally saw where he was taking you, you couldn’t breathe. You had been here before. At least, in your dreams you had been here. An old cottage sat in the distance, overlooking the sea. A misty breeze welcomed you the closer you got, sending chills through you. You walked closer to Percy, searching for a warmth he didn’t have. 

Once you were at the cottage, Percy pulled you to sit on the porch with him. Images of your dream flashed through your mind, Percy sitting, his hand atop yours, as you both looked up into the night sky. 

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” you confessed, turning to meet his eyes. His hand moved to rest on yours, urging you to continue. “I don’t know why, Percy, but everything about you just seems so familiar.”

“That’s a good thing, I hope,” he said hopefully. You nodded and turned your face upwards, basking in the glow of the bright moon. 

“The best thing.” “A toast then!” Percy exclaims, a clap sounding his joy. You laughed, watching him pick up his now cold drink. You followed suit, picking up your tea. He turned to face, drink raised. “To familiarity!” “To familiarity!” you repeated, raising your cup to tap his. He pulled his cup back, not letting yours touch his. 

“And to you, my bumble-bee.” His cup tapped yours, but you didn’t feel it. All your senses clouded, your head spun. Hands steadied you, but you barely felt them. Visions flooded your mind, visions of you and Percy. Percy, in his waistcoat, walking you through a garden filled with roses. Percy, in a pale suit and straw boater hat, walking with you through the bustling city. Percy, with his white crew neck tee and high waisted jeans, having tea with you on the beach. Percy, in his fitted peacoat, drinking tea with you on the porch at your cottage by the sea.

Your cottage by the sea. The cottage Percy surprised you with after your wedding, knowing how much you loved walking along the shores at night. The cottage where you now sat, remembering every life you’ve lived with Percy. Every life where you had forgotten he existed, only for him to find you and help you remember.

“My bumble-bee,” he murmured again, moving his hand to cup your face. You nuzzle into it, inhaling his earthy scent and kissing his palm. His thumb ran along your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t felt fall. “You remember?”

You did. You remembered every time you met him. Every time you loved him. Every time he asked you to join him, to take the bite and live with him forever. Every time you said no, too afraid to lose your humanity. 

“I do,” you whispered, leaning into him. When he smiled, you noticed his fangs were out. You reached up and ran your fingers along them, careful to not let them prick your finger. Percy playfully bit at them before kissing them gently. 

“Something always bring me back,” he cooed, pulling your face closer to him. “Come here.” His lips brush yours and the world fell away. All you knew was the feel of Percy holding you, his scent flooding your senses. His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you so much, my sweet,” he breathed, “Every new life is more difficult than the last. I was starting to think you wouldn’t remember this time.” The sadness in his voice made your chest ache. You didn’t want Percy to have to feel that sadness, not because of you.

“Maybe this time, I stay.” Percy stilled, letting a moment pass before sitting back and holding your gaze. You couldn’t read the emotions flashing through his eyes. You sucked in a slow breath before continuing, “I think this time I’m ready for you to change me. I don’t want to forget you again.” Percy pulled you to his lap, cradling you against his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair and rested there, breathing in your scent. 

“Oh, my bumble-bee, I’ve waited for hundreds of years to hear those words.” He kissed you again, slow and soft, conveying the emotions his words couldn’t. He pulled away, panting slightly. “But there’s still time; you don’t have to make that decision yet.”

“I love you,” you whisper, nuzzling your head into his neck. He was right, there was still time to decide, but you’ve already made up your mind. He wouldn’t have to ask you again because this time, you wouldn’t be leaving him.