#i look at the heap twins and I'm just like. my house now

[septimusheapheadcanons]

i think edd and erik definitely try to look different on purpose. already all the heap boys look pretty similar, and get mistaken for each other. so add onto that someone who shares your exact same face, living space, and eventually occupation. i think both of them try to have very distinct Things™️ about their appearance because to them, they ARE different and distinct people, and even though they love their brothers they don't want to always be considered part of a set, you know? like it's very important for them to be able to match clothes or hang out together without being confused as The Same Guy

[quill-pen]

Meet the Scrooges ~pt. 1~ A Sims 4 Scroogeverse fic

Set in the Sims 4 au by @rom-e-o. The first half of the little fic I've been working on bit by bit. Was originally supposed to be one thing, but it felt right to have one half mainly focused on meeting Starla and the other focusing mainly on Bess meeting and befriending Constance.

Rated T for some language and innuendo.

No warnings, just heaps and gobs and mounds of fluff.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Bess groaned as they approached the tall brick house. Her stomach continuously rolled up into her throat and down again to her toes at a sickening pace as the building loomed closer and closer. It was a beautiful looking house, Victorian era, remodeled and refurbished tastefully to allow for modern functionality while keeping the beautiful, classic, and timeless charm. It was just Bess' style. She would have adored it and been so excited to enter if it weren't for the reason they were entering it: To meet Ebenezar's family.

It was insane how she had never met them before, after having been in her Wolf's life for several years now, and especially since Wolf and his twin brother were so close, being the only real family they'd had for decades. But it was one of those freak things where situation and inconvenience had popped up after situation and inconvenience after situation and inconvenience until you hadn't met people for four to five years. Shit was chaotic. But now, approaching their second anniversary, Wolf was finally taking Bess to meet her in-laws.

They'd been invited to stay the weekend, which Bess thought was incredibly generous and maybe a bit crazy considering Ebenezer and Constance had just had twins not long ago. Not to mention they had a nearly-three-year-old daughter in the house. (This was why they'd opted to leave Bess' siblings with Granny FeFe for the weekend. After all, they'd only be a few minutes drive away should they be needed.) All in all, this would either be a blast or a disaster--no inbetween.

Wolf chuckled warmly from the driver's seat. "You're going to be fine, Dearest," he soothed her. "Take deep breaths. Slowly."

Bess tried, but the breathing seemed to settle nothing. "This was a bad idea," she lamented. "This was such a bad idea--staying the weekend. We should've just kept the kids with us and gone to the beach with everyone else. Why the hell did we think this was a good idea?!" Bess hid her face in her hands as she shook it.

"Because it is a good idea," Wolf assured her, voice soft but firm. "I haven't seen my brother or Connie for years or even met my first niece. It's high time we spend some family time--it's past due."

He glanced Bess' way, eyes softening with sympathy as he watched her rock nervously back and forth in an attempt to soothe herself. The silver-haired man reached over and gently grabbed one of her hands, pulling it away from her face and weaving their fingers together to squeeze comfortingly. "Hey," he murmured quietly. "It's going to be all right, Bess. I promise. Sammy and Connie have been dying to meet you since I first mentioned you. In fact, I'd say it's safe to say they already love you just from what I've told them about you."

Bess looked pitifully at him. "You'd be biased in whatever you said though," she meekly pointed out with a tremor in her voice. "They only know your version of me, Wolfy, not me me--the real, uncensored, un-rosy-colored version. Wh-what if... what if they don't like that version?" She clutched his hand more tightly in her anxiousness.

Wolf brought their hands to his mouth and sweetly kissed her knuckles even as he kept driving. "Sweetest Moondust," he purred into her skin, "beautiful wife and magnificent She-Wolf, my version of you is the real, uncensored version, no matter how you're unable to see it yet. But even if it weren't exactly, why would they not like you?"

"Maybe because I'm almost thirty years younger than you?"

"Your age--and consequently our age gap--has never once been anything more than a bullet point of fact for anyone, Bess, I assure you. All the jokes the others have made over the years have been good natured and affectionate: My brother and Connie will be no different. You're a grown, intelligent, mature woman perfectly capable of making your own informed decisions--no one has ever questioned that for a moment."

"Okay, then if not that, how 'bout the fact I stole you away from your family and business and kept you tied up in the shit with my demonic whack-job of a mother for years so you couldn't come back home? You missed the births of your nieces and nephew because of me. You should have been here, Wolf, not halfway across the world being a shield for me against my incubator from hell."

They were pulling up to the manor now, pulling into the driveway and parking.

Wolf finally looked fully at her. "You never stole me away, Darling," he assured her softly, drawing her worried gaze with his gentle one. "I went with you willingly; practically forced myself into the situation, remember? The past two-and-a-half years I've been exactly where I needed and was meant to be--right by your side. You needed me, and I wouldn't have changed that for anything, nor do I have any regrets for it. Sammy and Constance are in complete agreement with me as to it all and have been since I told them I was leaving with you. They begrudge you nothing, I promise you--I would have set them straight otherwise."

Bess couldn't help but smile a little. "I know you would have," she cooed, kissing his bicep and leaning her forehead against his shoulder. "But, in my experience, even when people are set straight... it doesn't seem to take." She couldn't help the glumness in her tone as she remembered the hell of her youth and growing up. She wanted nothing more than to never go back into any such situations ever again.

The silver-haired man bowed his head and kissed her coal-black curls. "Well, it's a good thing we don't have to worry about it then, hm?"

Bess lifted her head to come nose-to-nose with him and meet his eyes again. She didn't look or feel anymore reassured. "If you say so."

Wolf smirked and hummed, eyes flicking down to her mouth and back. Then, without warning, he surged in and captured her soft, perfectly painted lips with his. Let her try to be anxious with that!

Bess squeaked in surprise but then quickly melted into the contact, letting her eyes drift closed as she shifted closer to him, untangling her hand from his to hold his cheek while the other reached out and gripped his vest to pull them closer. Every thought and emotion she felt that didn't involve him and her love for him washed out of her soul like it had been taken out with the tide. What she wouldn't have given to just stay with him like this; his smooth, warm lips caressing hers, his teeth sinking into her pillowy bottom lip ever so gently now and again, his tongue hot and skilled as it slipped alongside her own, tasting like the peppermint he'd sucked on during the drive, his fresh cedar apple cologne and cinnamon citrus aftershave filling her nostrils and tickling her olfactory senses so delightfully. The fact that this glorious god of a man was hers--and willingly--still boggled her mind.

After a moment, and after Wolf had slipped a hand up her panty-hoed thigh beneath her powder blue skirt to grope her hip, they pulled apart, panting a bit for air. "For the record," Wolf husked as he gazed cross-eyed into her starry eyes, "you're always rosy-colored. And it's gorgeous."

Bess' insides tickled with butterfly flutters. She pulled her lip between her teeth and ducked her face from view into her husband's shoulder, tittering giddily like a crushing thirteen-year-old. A blush reddened her cheeks.

Wolf chuckled affectionately, squeezing her thigh and nuzzling her closer. "Properly married for over a year, and still so bashful whenever I compliment and kiss you," he gently taunted. He peppered her crown with more kisses.

Bess, shyly peeked up from behind her thick curtain of hair. "You make... everything feel new," she murmured. "Like a first. Every time. Whenever I think I can't love you any deeper or harder, you go and look at me like I'm the center of the world or hold my hand or... kiss me like you just did... and I somehow fall even more in love with you." She chuckled and bumped her brow to his, closing her eyes as she nuzzled into his warmth. "How do you manage to do that?"

The man leaned into her touch and nuzzled back. "Perhaps because I love you so bloody damn much, every time I look at you, I think I can't possibly love you more than in that moment, but then the next time I look at you comes... and then I can't possibly love you more than in that moment. Or the next, or the next." Wolf kissed his wife's brow, then tipped her head back to meet her starry eyes again. "I have a sneaking suspicion my entire life is just going to be a perpetual free fall into a deeper and deeper love for you, Mrs. Scrooge."

Bess' heart skipped beats as the butterflies in her belly tickled a grin onto her face and tears into her eyes. "Oh, Wolfy." Without thinking she dove back in for another slow, simmering kiss which she was most eagerly obliged with. "I love you so, so much," she whispered against his soft lips.

"And I love you," her man returned. "And so will your brother- and sister-in-law. Now come on." He pecked a barely-there kiss to her lips again and pulled back to switch the engine of the Royce off. He winked at her. "Let's go meet your family, yeah?"

Luggage retrieved from the trunk of the car and in hand, the couple trekked toward the front door. Each step caused Bess' anxiety to mount higher and higher, and when she finally laid eyes on the door, it took everything in her to not drop her bags, turn tail, and gallop away. Again her mind was screaming about what a bad idea this was. A voice that sounded just like her mother was echoing in her head: They'll hate you. Nobody likes you anyway, but they'll hate you for what you've done and keeping Ebenezar away. They'll think you're manipulative and controlling and only want him for the money. If they care about him at all, they'll try to take Ebenezar away from you--you don't deserve him. You're not good enough for him--you're not good enough for this life--and they know it. They'll see right through you and see just how unremarkable, common, and disappointing you really are.

A gentle, warm pressure wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her focus away from the voice in her head. Bess looked down to see her shoulder encased in her hubby's large hand, then looked up into his face again. She realized she must have stopped walking when he'd kept going because he was turned towards her, like he'd realized she was no longer following him and had come back to collect her.

Wolf smiled in gentle reassurance as he held her gaze. "You all right?" he crooned. His large, strong fingers tenderly squeezed.

"H-How should I act?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere; not even Bess understood why she'd asked it. That hadn't been any of the thoughts running through her mind.

Her man lightly cocked an eyebrow in confusion before sighing with an adoring smile as he shook his head. Letting her shoulder go, he brought his hand to her face, tucking hair behind an ear before cupping her cheek. "Like you," came the sincere answer. "You should only ever act like you, Moonflower." He leaned back down to give her another soft kiss to once again help settle her nerves. (It truly was a remedy he never tired of dispensing.) With that, Wolf curled his arm around her back and gently led her on.

They'd only just reached the bottom of the steps when the large, dark wood door with the impressive knocker suddenly opened and an older, short little woman dressed in a maid's uniform with glasses and a broom stepped out to bar their way. Stamping the broom down on the top step and leaning against it, she perched a hand on her hip. "Well, well, what have we here?" she drawled, sounding vaguely Eastern European. A sly smile quirked up her lips and her eyes sparkled in good natured mischief. "Do my aging eyes deceive me, or has the prodigal finally returned?"

Wolf laughed warmly. "I can promise you it's not your eyes, Magda," he declared. He let go of Bess and opened his arm out to the woman. "I'm home."

Magda's smirk blossomed into a beaming grin and she leaned the broom against the brick and came down the steps to embrace the man. "Oh, Ben," she chuckled warmly. "My Benny Boy."

Bess couldn't help but smirk at that. "Benny Boy"? Wolf hated when people called him 'Benny' and 'Benny Boy'--she surmised--would have been no less different and probably worse. Magda must have been someone quite special: She seemed about Wolf's age, maybe a little older--sixties at the oldest. Perhaps a doting, older sister-figure? The idea warmed the Yank's racing heart.

Magda embraced Wolf for a long moment, patting and rubbing his back affectionately and even rocking him a bit. "Oh, we all missed you, Love," she told the man. "Everyone. Of course, we all knew why you had to stay away so long, and we managed, but it wasn't the same."

Wolf chuckled and rubbed Magda's back comfortingly in turn. "I missed all of you, too," he assured the woman. "But I'm back now. And I don't plan on leaving again for a good long while."

"Good. We need you here." The woman passed her hands over Wolf's sides and then paused, pressing her palms against his ribs. "My!" she exclaimed, pulling back from the Englishman with wide eyes. She felt along his sides, flanks, shoulders and chest, and finally his middle. "I see you didn't suffer from hunger while you were away," she claimed, smiling in amusement. "You've put on as much weight as Ebenezer has! Wonderful! You walking skeletons certainly needed some extra pounds."

Wolf rolled his slate-blue eyes. "Don't exaggerate, Magda," he groaned playfully.

"Me? Exaggerate? Never!"

Wolf snorted out a laugh.

"I hope you didn't become addicted to all that ghastly, American fast-food while you were there," Magda only half-joked.

"Honestly, rarely touched the stuff." Wolf looked away from Magda over to Bess with a soft smile. "Bess saw to that. She fed me well--took spectacular care of me."

Bess blushed and couldn't help but return his smile. "Well, you took wonderful care of me first," she insisted. "How could I not return the favor?"

"Aaahhhh," Magda cut in again. She was turned to completely direct her attention upon the American, a little smile on her lips. "So this is the famous Bess." She looked the young woman over, smiling warmer and larger with every sweep of her eyes.

Bess shrunk back a bit, painfully aware the spotlight was now upon her. "U-Um... yeah, th-that'd be me. I-I-I don't know about "famous" though."

Magda shook her head as her smile continued to widen. "You're famous in this household, Dove," she informed the Yank. "And, one could argue, famous throughout the live music scene of London and on YouTube as well, Ms. Moonrock, sought after lounge performer and 65.5K subs strong--whatever that means, but according to the children it's quite good. I must say famous for good reason as well--you are pretty as a rose and cute as the dickens!"

Bess flushed red hot all the way down beneath her collar at that, her freckles popping from beneath her minimal makeup with the blush. She shifted on her purple peep-toe shoes a bit, fluctuating between feeling both morbidly embarrassed and genuinely chuffed over such compliments. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to hearing such words so frequently directed her way that weren't in the form of YouTube comments or from drunken galloots at a hotel bar. Smiling the tiniest bit, the woman turned and ducked her head to shyly hide her face a bit behind her dark hair. "Thank-Thank you."

Chuckling warmly, Wolf began introductions: "Darling, I'd like you to meet our maid--well, Sammy and Connie's maid anyway--Magda Vandergeissan." The man clasped the little woman's sturdy shoulder and smiled impishly down at her. "She runs this house with an iron fist."

Magda playfully scowled at him and smacked his hand away. "Oh, you--hush! Not an iron fist. ... A fist of hard-packed earth. Wrapped in velvet."

Wolf laughed. Then he turned to Bess again and stepped toward her, brushing her hair back and taking up her hand to bring to his lips again. "Magda, this is Bess Scrooge." He smiled at the dark-haired woman, eyes soft as a lamb's, and held her hand over his heart. "My wonderful, beautiful, remarkable wife--the woman who has made me the happiest and luckiest man on Earth." His voice was tender, dripping with adoration and devotion.

Bess couldn't help but smile back as that familiar warmth flooded through her. She always felt like the most amazing woman in the world when he looked at her like that. She wasn't, of course, but she could easily believe it for a minute or two when in the lovelight of those gorgeous eyes. "Oh, stop it," she giggled in the way girls who are deeply in love do.

"All right, all right," Magda said, stepping in between the pair. "You lovebirds can make goo-goo eyes at each other later. Right now, I'd like to get to know the lovely lady. You can only learn so much from YouTube videos and hotel Yelp reviews." Without even looking, the maid took Bess' bag from Bess' hand and pushed the handle into Wolf's. Then she took Bess' make-up travel kit and stuck it under his arm. "You can handle the luggage, can't you, Ben?" It was an order phrased as a question. Before Magda could get an answer, she wrapped an arm around Bess' and turned all of her attention to the young woman. She smiled in a motherly fashion. "Come along, Dovey, let's go inside and you can tell me all about yourself." She began to lead Bess inside. "Would you like some tea? I've made fresh biscuits to go with it."

"U-uh, yes. That-that would be just fine, Mrs. Vand-"

"Oh, please, Sweetheart, call me 'Magda'--I insist. After all, we're practically family. Might I say, that is an absolutely lovely sweater. Lavender is an excellent color for you. And don't you look darling in that skirt? Constance isn't the only one in the family with style anymore. She'll be happy for that."

"Oh, um... thank you, Magda." Bess craned her head back to give her husband a nervous look but he just grinned and winked as he followed with the bags.

"I'm afraid you just missed the family by about five minutes," Magda informed them. "They took the little ones on a walk for some sunshine. They should be back in a half hour or so. Ben, why don't you take the bags up to your room? I've turned down the bed and have everything ready for the pair of you to stay in your old room this weekend."

Wolf nodded, then sent a careful gaze his wife's way. "Are you going to be all right for a moment or two?" he asked. His voice was full of sincerity and understanding, not a bit patronizing. Bess' anxiety was never something to be taken lightly for him, especially not since it had begun to flare drastically again during the whole debacle with her mother. They were working on getting it under control again, and the medication and coping exercises were definitely helping--even just being back home with family and friends seemed to be helping a great deal; it would be a good while, though, before Bess was back to the stability she'd had before her mother had reared her ugly head again.

Bess offered a small smile in turn as she managed a nod. "I think so," she answered quietly. "If not, I'll call and-"

"I'll come running," her husband finished for her with an assuring nod. He stepped forward and bowed down to give her a yet another short but still languid kiss. After which, he took the time to touch his brow to hers and hold her gaze. "I'll be back in just a minute." With that, he went up one of the split staircases and disappeared into the floors above.

Bess watched after him, a dopey smile that never seemed to fail to come out whenever he kissed her--no matter how chastely--lingering on her face. "Love you," she dreamily called after him. She would never grow tired of saying that.

Magda watched on with a sly, knowing smirk, hands perched on her hips. If that wasn't the look of a woman smitten to the very core of her soul for her man, she didn't know what was. "Well, well, well," the maid drawled, drawing the raven-haired woman's attention. "I've been in the presence of the two of you for less than five minutes, but I think it's safe to say you're as thick as thieves."

Bess couldn't help the bashful, girlish giggle that escaped her as she hid her blushing face in her hands.

Magda chuckled. "I'll take that as a sign he's treating you as he should."

Bess smiled in a completely lovesick way at the maid, hands on her blushing cheeks, her chest feeling as though it were about to explode with happiness. A year and a half as an established couple, and she still felt as though she were in the beginning stages of fresh love. Would it always be like this? She couldn't imagine that it wouldn't be, not with her marvelous Wolf. "Like a queen," she practically swooned. "I want for nothing with him. He's the most amazing and marvelous man!"

Magda knew that well. And the fact that Bess could see it too, caused Magda to be overcome with the urge to hug the young woman and join in her happiness. She did just that. The fact Bess readily returned the affection only after a moment's hesitation made the maid even more happy. Ebenezar had most definitely picked a good one. Of course, Magda had known that too from the first time the man had ever spoken of the Yank.

"I can tell just from the way he looks at you, that you treat him just as well," Magda murmured. The maid pulled back a bit to meet Bess' shining eyes and, for the first time, truly noticed the freckles sprinkling Bess' face. Ah, another freckled, blue-eyed beauty. I'm starting to see a pattern here.

"I'm so happy you're here with us now, Bess," Magda murmured, squeezing the girl's arms as she smiled sincerely into her face. "I'm so happy you and Ben have finally found each other. I've hoped and prayed for a long time for both of the boys to find their special someones--people who will love and cherish them as they deserve to be, partners who will help them bear the burden of the world instead of letting them become crushed by it. Ebenezer has found that special someone in Constance, and, though I've only just met you, from everything I've heard from Ben over the years and just from what I've seen already in the last few minutes, I can tell he's found that special someone in you. And I couldn't be more grateful or happier."

"I just want to make him feel as happy and loved as I can," Bess stated, gushing a bit as she gripped the maid back. "I want to build a life with him, from the ground up. I want to face every challenge and hardship with him and celebrate every triumph and good time with him. I want to give him a home and everything else he's ever needed and wanted. I want to help him see the man that I see when I look at him--a good man, kind and strong and brave and generous and chivalrous. Oh, I just want to love him, Magda! I do love him with all my heart and soul, and thank the heavens for him every day. I just want to love him for all eternity in any and every way that I can."

Tears shone in Magda's eyes by the end of that diatribe, her chin trembling ever so slightly. "If you knew how long I've waited for someone to say those things about my Benny Boy..." she trailed off into a quiet sob, a happy tear descending her cheek. Once again, she embraced the American, hugging her tight and close as she patted her back. She thought her heart would burst when Bess hugged her back just as tightly. "Welcome to the family, Bess. We've waited much too long for you to come home."

"Took me a long time to find it," Bess croaked back. "But now that I'm here, I'm not ever leaving--I promise."

When Wolf came back, from the third floor, he was drawn by the sound of laughter into the sitting room where he was greeted by the sight of Magda and Bess seated at the tea table. Both women held cups of tea as a tray of chocolate chip biscuits sat between them, and neither of them seemed to notice his entrance as they were both laughing much too hard. The man couldn't help but chuckle as well, thrilled that his wife and mother-figure were getting on so well already. "Well, now," he called out as he crossed the room, "this is a sight." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bess' crown, stroking a warm hand down her back. "And you were afraid she'd slam the door in your face," he teased at a whisper into her ear.

Bess giggled sheepishly and blushed. Yes, she'd been overthinking and worrying needlessly. Again. Perhaps one day she'd learn to not do that.

"Now," Wolf sighed, leaning down to chomp a bite out of the half-eaten biscuit in his love's hand before standing up and looking between both women, "what are we laughing at?" He pulled out a chair and shifted it a bit closer to Bess before sitting down and slipping an arm around her shoulders.

Bess smirked at him as she arched an eyebrow in mischief. "You and your folded skivvies and ironed socks." She snickered when her man shot her a slightly unamused glare as his cheeks pinked up just a bit.

Magda chuckled. "Oh, Ben, dear, in many ways you've changed, but in so many others you've stayed the same," she crooned, reaching over to fondly pat the businessman's knee. "Thank the Lord you found this lovely little Yankee who's willing to put up with and cater to your... idiosyncrasies. Many women wouldn't without being paid."

Wolf became a bit defensive at that insinuation, however playful it was. "Bess doesn't have to...! I-I don't force her to...! If she didn't want...!" he tried to explain himself, but he was much too flustered.

Bess and Magda broke into giggles again and Bess leaned in closer to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. "She's just teasing, babe," she cooed. "Feminists everywhere would scream and froth at the mouth but let them: I like folding your boxer briefs and ironing your socks. Besides, it's not like you don't handle my laundry in return." She kissed his flushed cheek.

Magda's eyes widened behind her glasses. "Whhhaaaaat?" she drawled in disbelief. "Ebenezar Charles Scrooge doing laundry?"

Wolf glowered at the maid. "Don't sound so surprised," he grumbled. "I know how to use a washer and dryer. It doesn't take a genius."

"He was a little rusty at first," Bess admitted with a giggle. "I had to remind him about separating things. And I don't think he'd ever heard of fabric softener before." She ignored the groan from her hubby and continued on: "But after that, he caught on quick--within the first few laundry days. And he was always excellent at handwashing--I wouldn't trust my delicates to anyone but him."

"Huuussssshhhhhh!" Wolf hissed, blushing red clear up to the tips of his ears. The last thing he needed Magda to hear about was how he liked to wash Bess' pretty little knickers in the sink to unwind after rough days.

Bess smirked up at him and winked. "And he positively loves folding things now that I got him a folding board," she went on. "You should see him when he uses it--making sure every piece of clothing is laid out perfectly on the board and carefully folding them into perfect little rectangles and squares. He does this little smile and nod at the end of every one as he stacks them into their specific piles. Ugh! It's so cute I could die!"

Magda broke into laughter again at the thought. Knowing the perfectionist her beloved Benny Boy was, the Hungarian could picture that scenario exactly!

"Oh, and can you believe, Magda," Bess went on as she patted her man's chest, "that this darling of a gentleman went out of his way to buy special, scented products to use on my clothes specifically?" The freckled woman smiled in complete adoration up at the silver-haired man.

Though he blushed red hot and avoided eye-contact, Wolf's lips curved into a bashful smile. He didn't believe he'd ever get tired of hearing her call him "darling".

"Oh, did he now?" Magda chortled as she smirked at the blushing fellow. As if it weren't already plain as day Ebenezar Scrooge was a man smitten beyond reason. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, Bess Dear, but I seem to recall some Instagram posts of a certain silver-haired gentleman cooking and baking?"

Bess grinned a mile wide. "You did!"

"Ho, now--wait a second," Wolf quickly injected. "I only mastered the grill--I'm still complete rubbish in the kitchen." He nudged his wife with a significant smirk. "At least, without someone there to guide me. I'm a much better assistant cook."

Bess smiled and nudged him back. "You are an excellent grill-master," she acknowledged. "And you're the best assistant cook. Especially since you volunteer to do all the dishes." She leaned in to peck a chaste kiss on the lips he offered up in a pucker. "Mmmmwah!"

Magda chuckled as she shook her head at the couple. "Laundry, house-cleaning, cooking, baking, washing dishes--I can hardly believe it, but you've actually domesticated him. Well done, Bess. Brava." The maid actually clapped which earned her a small glare from the man in question. She only snickered.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," Bess countered with a sly side-eye to the older woman. "I'd say he's still plenty wild and rough in many ways." She turned back to and winked at her love. "Can't sand those rough edges away completely. What would I have to hold on to?"

The trio continued their tea time with warm, lively chatter, discussing everything from America to Hungary and everything in between. Magda filled in blanks about what had happened the last few years while the Wolves (Magda explained that's what everyone had taken to calling the pair collectively--Wolf groaned at the information while Bess laughed) had been away. It was as comfortable and cozy as three long-lost friends reuniting; Bess felt silly for ever having worried in the first place. But, of course, this was just Magda. She had yet to meet her in-laws.

Speaking of the devils--it wasn't long until there was a voice that sounded much like Wolf's but couldn't be his ringing through the house: "We're back!"

A familiar, resounding bark echoed right after it, and just a moment or two later, a big, furry, golden brown blur came barrelling through the door of the sitting room. Very nearly crashing into the couple, the blur quickly changed into a whining flurry of tail wags and slobbery kisses complete with a cold, wet, inspecting nose. Wolf and Bess laughed and endured the onslaught of wet affection joyously, wrapping their arms around the beast. "Prudence!" they both cheered. They slipped from their chairs to kneel on the floor to more sufficiently love up the excited mastiff, taking turns hugging her and getting showered with drool and giving the dog back and butt-scratches as she frantically spun around between them to give them ample and equal amounts of affection. Clearly the couple had been missed and she had too.

"Oh, Prudence!" Wolf laughed as he scratched the dog down her back and up her sides. "Good old Prudence!"

Bess held the dog's face between her hands, smushing and ruffling her floppy jowls as she smooched the animal all over her giant head. "Ugh, you big, sweet, wonderful ol' meatball-head!" she giggled, touching her brow to Prudence's. "Oh, we missed you, old girl."

Grinning a mile wide with lolling tongue, Prudence promptly flipped onto her back to offer her belly up for tummy-rubs. She was quickly obliged. The dog started whining in happiness again, her tail drumming the floor and one of her back legs pedaling as just the right spots were found.

"The children are going to be upset they didn't get to see you," Wolf crooned.

"She looks great!" Bess exclaimed, noting the mastiff's healthy body weight and solid musculature. As far as her breed went, Prudence was most definitely a senior dog, as she'd already been 9 years old when Bess had first met Wolf. But you could hardly tell from the way she acted or looked: Apart from a few white hairs around her muzzle and in her brows, Prudence could have easily been mistaken for a dog a quarter her age! It was just further proof for Bess' quiet theory that this dog wasn't really a dog, but a guardian angel in canine disguise.

"Hardly looks a day older than when Marley left her with us," a warm, smooth voice chuckled. The voice was familiar to Bess' ears--almost like her Wolf's--but different enough it could easily be deciphered for someone different. By someone close to him anyway.

The couple turned their attention from the dog to the tall man dressed in comfortable slacks and a casual blue vest over a white button-down and tie. This was Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge, one-half of London's famous (and in some corners, yet, infamous), philanthropic, billionaire-bankers-and-businessmen-brothers team. Also, Bess' brother-in-law.

Wolf's mouth split into a laughing grin as he sprung to his feet and quickly closed the distance between himself and the other grinning man. "Sammy!" he boomed. He clasped his brother's extended arm as the other fellow did the same and the two pulled each other into a great hug, slapping each other on the backs.

Bess couldn't help but stare. She'd known since before she met him that her Wolf was an identical twin--complete with a set of identical names because their father had been that sort of dick--and this wasn't the first time she'd seen Ebenezer--or rather "Adonis" as she had taken to calling him since seeing pictures online. But it was still uncanny to see a man who had her husband's face but who wasn't her husband embracing her husband. The same two-toned, steel and silver hair--though Wolf's was much longer as he'd finally managed to grow it to the "rebellious" length he'd always wanted; the same large, handsome, owlish nose; the same diamond shaped face with the chiseled cheekbones and sharp jaw that could cut glass; the same, wide, intelligent brow; the same slender lips; the same bushy brows; the same endearingly large ears; even the same carefully groomed muttonchops that jackasses liked to make fun of Wolf for ("Hey, Wolverine!" "It's not the Victorian age anymore, buddy!" "Yo, where's the time-machine, pal?"). So far the only real difference Bess could see (apart from the obvious hair) was that Adonis looked a tad taller and lankier while her Wolf was a bit bigger and bulkier in the muscle, body-fat, and framing department. Not a surprise, considering Wolf had just spent the last two years living with her on her old family farm, doing farm and renovation work and eating a mixture of her and her friend Debbie's cooking (finger-licking-good, stick-to-your-ribs, homemade American faire). Identical as they were, this fact made Bess officially decide that she had the more attractive of the twins. (However, she was plenty biased.)

Still laughing, the brothers finally pulled apart, but still held each other by the arm, hands now layered warmly over hands gripping forearms.

"Criminey, it's good to see you, old boy!" Wolf sighed.

"It's good to see you, too," Adonis echoed. "Bloody hell, look at you! You look like those damn rugby players we grew up idolizing! What do the Yanks feed you over there in the States?"

"Big portions and hard work."

"I'll say. Shite, Charlie, if Dad were around to see your hair now." He reached up with both hands and ruffled his twin's hair in an obnoxious and brotherly way.

"Hey!" Wolf barked the laugh as he shoved his brother away. He drew up his fists and got into a mock fighting stance and Adonis did the same. For a second or two, the men pretended to spar, ducking and bobbing around playful punches and then, laughing, they embraced fully again.

Bess couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with happiness that her beloved was once again back with his best and closest friend. Happy whining and thumping sounds beside her told the woman Prudence was happy with the scenario as well. Bess reached down to scratch the dog's head and ears.

"Where's your better half?" Wolf asked as they parted again.

"Taking Starry to the loo," Adonis answered. "We're finally making progress with potty-training. Oh, that reminds me. Magda?" The man looked in the maid's direction. "Would you mind going to help Connie with the twins? I believe they both are in need of changing."

Always happy to interact with the little ones in any aspect, Magda smiled and nodded. "Of course, Mr. Scrooge." She gave Bess' shoulder a gentle squeeze and a reassuring smile as she left the room.

Bess smiled after her, even as her nerves started to rise a bit. Evidently she'd quickly attached to friendly, warm, motherly Magda as something of a security blanket in this strange household, and her departure left the American feeling a bit insecure again. She shifted a bit closer to Prudence, thankful that the dog also shifted towards her in turn, probably sensing her nerves. Good, old, wonderful Prudie!

"Well, Charlie," Adonis sighed as Magda, left. He let go of his brother and moved around him in Bess' direction, his icy blue eyes (ah--another slight difference) friendly and warm despite their otherwise frigid hue. "It's been about a minute since I came in--are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady, or should I do it myself?"

Wolf chuckled and moved back to stand by Bess, slipping an arm about her waist and tugging her comfortingly into his side. His thumb traced circles on her back to help soothe the anxiousness he had seen come back to her eyes. "Sammy, this is Bess." The man smiled down at his lover as she hooked an arm around his waist for extra reassurance. "The absolute love of my life."

Bess looked up at her husband, meeting his gentle gaze (yes, she definitely preferred that cool, liquid slate-blue), wanting nothing more than to kiss the very breath from him for those beautiful, beautiful words. She loved that phrase in context to her. After years of fearing she'd never find someone who liked her let alone loved her, to be referred to as the quintessential love of someone who was her own quintessential love filled her with so many good vibes she could have exploded. The woman knew she'd never tire of hearing them.

"Well, that's quite the statement," Adonis declared smiling between the smitten pair. "You must be something very special, Lady Ness; my hard-headed, self-sabotaging twin has never said that about any woman ever."

Wolf shot him a glare. "Hard-headed? Self-sabotaging? Pot, meet Kettle."

Prudence softly ruffed in agreement.

Adonis snickered with an impish smirk. Then he stretched out his hand to Bess and clasped her hand warmly when she took it. With a gentlemanly bow, he smiled sincerely up at her. "It's good to finally meet you, Bess," he stated fondly.

"You too, Bess responded, returning the man's smile. She squeezed his hand, happy to feel it was work roughened as well, though not quite to the glorious extent her hubby's were. With her beloved Wolf by her side and the palpable friendliness and openness of her brother-in-law, Bess felt her nerves settling again. "Wolf's told me so much about you."

Adonis sent a look his brother's way. "All good things, I assume," he said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Oh, of course, Brother," Wolf assured him more than a little sardonically. "Only ever good things."

Bess did her best to keep from smiling and laughing as all the funny and embarrassing stories about her brother-in-law her husband had told her came rushing to the forefront. She succeeded only minimally well. It was hard not to laugh at the mental image of a man as imposing as Ebenezer losing it over a creepy-crawly. Deep down she really hoped a spider or beetle would sneak into the house while they were there for the weekend; she wanted to see if Adonis really screamed as loud as Wolf claimed he would.

Adonis gave his brother a hard look. "Uh-huh." After a moment he looked to Bess again and said conversationally: "You know, he pissed the bed until he was thirteen."

Bess laughed incredulously. "What?!"

Prudence too looked up at Wolf with wide, surprised eyes and perked ears as she tilted her head in question.

A beet-red Wolf immediately jumped in. "No I didn't!" he spat angrily, giving his laughing twin a rough shove. "That's a complete exaggeration and taken out of context, and you know it!" The man then desperately turned to his wife with her goofy, amused grin and frantically tried to explain. "The only reason I wet the bed was because I'd snuck out past curfew with a group of older schoolmates and had much more alcohol than was good for me and passed out. They dumped me back in my bed and I never woke up when I needed to and..." he trailed off, painfully embarrassed by the memory.

Bess smiled sympathetically and reached up to hold his angular face in her hands. "Oh, honey," she crooned with a chuckle. "It's okay--it can happen to anybody." She smooched his nose then smirked mischievously at him. "But if you ever do that in our bed, you're on the floor with the dog."

Prudence woofed rather indignantly.

Wolf smirked back just as deviously. "For all of two minutes before you begged me back into it," he rumbled more than a little salaciously as he cocked a smug eyebrow.

Bess flushed hot and gently popped his chin in admonishment. "Ebenezar Charles!" she hissed. "We're among company!" She tried to give her man a stern look but failed as her lips frustratingly twitched into little smirks.

A shudder went through Adonis at the mental images that statement conjured up and he cringed. Imagining his brother having... relations.... "Eeeesh!" he exclaimed. "There's something I never wanted to picture."

As if in agreement, Prudence shook herself and trotted out of the room with a snort. Clearly she had better places to be if the humans were going to start discussing such things. There was a stash of bones somewhere calling her name anyway.

Wolf side-eyed his twin as he pulled his wife flush into him. He always loved the way Bess fit so perfectly against him, her curvaceous, womanly figure melding perfectly into his body; the way his hands so easily found and fit into the small of her back and other dips in her body. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that they had been made for each other--molded to fit one other specifically. "No kidding," he responded drily, shooting a pointed look at the other man. "Say, did you ever get around to finding some sort of cushioning for your headboard? I imagine the wall behind it is looking a bit rough otherwise."

Bess couldn't help but snort at that. She covered her mouth with a hand to try and stop her laughter. Her efforts weren't particularly successful.

Adonis blushed a bit and glowered at his brother. Then he smirked deviously. "No, we didn't," he replied. "As a matter of fact, Constance and I just use your bed now."

Wolf felt the color drain from his face at that statement. Whether it was true or not was a complete crapshoot, because he and his twin were masters of screwing with each other. Even so, just the mere idea that he could possibly be sleeping in a bed his brother might have shagged in, perhaps making love to his own wife in that same bed, was enough to make his skin crawl. "You're a bastard," he rasped out.

Adonis' devilish smirk turned into a somewhat maniacal grin. "Remember, we're twins, Benny Boy."

Bess looked between the brothers in utter amusement. Having four siblings, Bess was used to the ever-fluctuating nature of such relationships, and the contolled, chaotic energy between her husband and brother-in-law was immaculate. This was going to be a hell of a weekend!

"Papa?" a tiny little voice suddenly chirped in to interrupt the conversation. "Papa, Papa, Papa!"

The three adults turned to see a tiny redheaded girl in a yellow shirt, little blue capris, and teeny white shoes come toddling into the sitting room. Arms outstretched for balance, the tot had a big, gap-toothed grin on her cherubic little face, her sparkling blue eyes trained on her father. The toddler sped up into a waddle and, panting as she squeaked excitedly, darted for the tall gentleman. "Papa!"

Adonis' face softened and his grin turned warm with love as he crouched down to meet the toddler. "There's my little sundrop!" he cooed adoringly as he scooped the girl up. He smooched noisy kisses to her chubby cheeks as the little one giggled and squealed while she hugged his neck.

"Papa! That tickleth!"

Bess couldn't help but smile at the sheer adorable, wholesomeness of the situation. There was something about a big man being gentle and sweet with a small child that never failed to make her go mushy inside. And make her useless womb quiver and ache.

The American looked up at her husband again to see him staring at his brother and niece attentively. A slight smile curled his mouth. The light in his eyes was warm and soft and... maybe just a tad longing. It was hardly a secret the man had a desire to be a father, to hear a little voice call him "Papa" and catch a little child as they came running to give him hugs and kisses, too. While he was the adoptive father of Bess' siblings now and loved being their father-figure and adored being called "Uncle Ebby", it just wasn't quite enough. There was a void deep inside him that it just didn't quite fill, as much as he wished it would. He wanted to be a father to a child, from beginning to end. He wanted to experience the good, bad, and everything in between. He was honored his adopted children had hyphenated his name in after that of their own father, but even so, the man wanted a child to carry his name first and alone.

Bess reached up and cupped his sculpted cheek to draw his face back to hers. She smiled reassuringly at him, knowing what was going through his very soul at the moment because it was going through hers too. "Someday," she reminded him softly. "We'll be there someday." She stroked a tender thumb along his cheekbone and pressed her other hand to his heart. "I promise."

Wolf responded with the softest of smitten smiles he'd given her since their first morning waking up naked in each other's arms. He bowed to touch his brow to her, his stubbornly-stray lock of hair tickling both their cheeks. "How is it you always seem to know exactly what I'm thinking?" he purred, gazing into her eyes.

Bess smirked as she curled both arms back around his neck and pulled him closer. "I could ask you the same thing," she giggled.

Wolf rumbled a soft chuckle and angled his head to bring their mouths together once more. He kissed her chastely but soundly, reveling in the belovedly familiar scent of her blueberry perfume. He would forever associate blueberries with this glorious woman for the rest of his days.

"New fwiendth?" the little girl chirruped again.

The couple parted lips and turned their attention back to the father and daughter, both of whom were now gazing at them, the father much more wryly than the little girl. She gawked at them in wide-eyed excitement and fascination.

"Yes, Sweetheart," her papa answered gently. "New and very good friends." He returned his gaze to his child and smiled at her absolute enchantment with the two new adults. The man gently bounced her in his arms. "Do you remember them?" he cooed. "Hmm? You've seen their pictures and watched them on YouTube. Mama and I have talked to you about them."

The babe gasped and squealed with delighted laughter as she clapped her little hands. "Annie Bweth!" she giggled. "Unky Woofy!"

Bess couldn't help the laughter that escaped her. "Unky Woofy," she snickered to her husband. "That's definitely becoming a new pet name."

Wolf gave her the side-eye. "Don't you dare," he warned her but he smirked as he said it.

Bess only winked. She made no guarantees.

Chuckling, Adonis knelt down and placed his little girl on the floor again. The girl's feet were already peddling before she touched ground; when she finally did, she took off at a run. Or as much of a run as a waddle could reach. "Go make friends," he urged, though the child was already speeding to do just that. He smiled in adoring pride as he stood again. "Charlie, Bess, allow me to introduce you to your niece, Starla."

Unable to help herself, Bess pulled out of her hubby's arms and quickly moved towards the oncoming child, arms outstretched and hands itching to pick up the tot and snuggle her close. She loved children in general, and this stage was positively adorable (if not insanely chaotic), when they really started to come into their own as little people with little personalities and attitudes. "Oh my goodness!" the America cooed as she swooped Starla up into her arms. "Hi, Sweetheart."

Starla's gap-toothed grin beamed wide and radiant as the sun. She giggled excitedly as she reached out towards Bess, stubby little fingers wiggling and grasping for something to touch and hold on to. "Annie Bweth!" she squeaked. When Bess leaned in and pulled her a bit closer, the tot grabbed a chunk of coal-black waves and tangled it between her fingers. Her cornflower eyes widened in awe. "Ooohhh, tho pwetty," Starla quietly marveled. Then she beamed even brighter up at her auntie again. "You pwetty, Annie Bweth!"

Chuckling, Bess settled her niece on her hip and snuggled her. "Not as pretty as you, Little Sunbeam," she crooned. The woman stroked a finger down the owlish bridge of the little ginger's nose and playfully booped the tip, her heart melting at the peals of laughter that followed. Starla may have been her mother's spitting image overall, but she certainly had her father's nose. "My gosh, look at you! If you aren't the cutest little angel I ever did see. And you've gotten so big! Golly, it seems like just yesterday Wolf and I were looking at pictures of you all red and squishy."

"She's certainly turned into quite a little armful," Wolf remarked turning to his brother with a genuine smile.

"And much too fast," Adonis agreed with bittersweet sorrow. "I swear just last week she was falling asleep during tummy-time--now it takes everything Connie and I have to keep up with her.

"I remember watching your first steps," Bess told the little girl. "I do." She poked Starla's tummy and was rewarded with more happy, ticklish squeals. Could this little tyke possibly get any cuter?!

"I remember it, too," Wolf remarked moving behind his wife and putting his hands on her shoulders as he fawned over her smittenness with their niece. ("They're niece"--that sounded so wonderful!) He remembered how happy and excited he'd been for his twin that day, finally starting a family (a deep-seated desire they'd both had and forgotten until recent years) and being able to raise and watch it grow. He also remembered walking in on Bess that evening, drinking wine, watching the video, and sobbing about how she'd taken him away from his family and was a horrible person for it. He'd fallen asleep beside her that night, holding her close as he comforted and reassured her. It was the first time they'd slept together--in the literal sense of the phrase--and, while it wasn't exactly the most positive of memories in context, it was one the Englishman would cherish forever.

Starla's eyes suddenly snapped from Bess' face over to the tall gentleman gazing down at her from over her Auntie's shoulder. Her grin grew even brighter and she reached towards him. "Unky Woofy!"

Chuckling, Wolf moved around Bess and held out his hands to take the little girl from his wife. "Hello, Starla," he crooned as he settled her against his chest. "My goodness, you are quite the big girl!" He pretended to stumble and struggle to hold his niece, causing the tot to squeal and shriek with giggles. The man chuckled warmly and patted the girl's back.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Sweetheart," he said as he smiled at his niece.

Starla beamed back at him. "Nithe to meet you too, Unky Woofy!" she chirped. Then she reached up and took her uncle's chin between her pudgy hands and began to look him over carefully. After a moment, she turned to her father and waved him over. "Papa." When her father came over she reached out and placed a hand on his cheek as she kept one on her uncle's face. The little girl spent several long moments looking back and forth between the two men, her little fingers gently playing with the tickly hairs of their muttonchops. Her grin grew bigger and bigger as fascination and wonder sparkled through her baby blues.

Bess couldn't help but grin at the sweet moment. She also marveled at her niece's comprehensive observation skills for no older than she was. Of course, that shouldn't have been a surprise, considering who her parents were.

"Papa!" Starla gasped after a while. "Unky Woofy wookth duth wike you with wong, pwetty haew!" She clapped her hands in delight.

Both men chuckled. "That's right, baby girl," Adonis praised her. "Do you know why Uncle Wolfy and I look alike?"

Starla shook her head.

"We're identical twins," Wolf stated, watching his niece's adorable little face scrunch up a bit as she tried to process that.

"'Winth? Wike Thewwy an' Wobbie?"

"Sort of," Adonis answered. "Sherry and Robbie aren't identical, but Uncle Wolfy and I are identical. Identical means that we look alike and sound alike and we're both boys."

Starla looked between the men again for a minute. "Doth that mean you my papa too, Unky Woofy?" she asked as innocently as can be.

Wolf chuckled fondly and shook his head. "No, only your papa is your papa," he assured the girl. "I'm just your uncle." He smiled gently at her, a doting look in his slate eyes as he added. "But I still love you very, very much," he purred. "And you're very, very special to me."

Starla smiled sweetly and leaned forward in her uncle's arms to wrap her own stumpy ones around his neck. "Wuv you too, Unky Woofy," she said as she gazed into his face. "Mwah!" She puckered her little lips and pecked them to the pointed tip of the man's large nose in an adorable kiss.

Chuckling again, Wolf cradled the back of Starla's little, red head in his large palm and pulled her in close to hug. He softly kissed her cheek as the babe nuzzled into his neck. Blinking back the watery sting in his eyes, the former miserly recluse let out a shaky sigh as an ache deep inside his heart evaporated away. He'd needed this. He hadn't known just how much he'd needed this.

Her phone already out as she'd been snapping pictures throughout the encounter, Bess quickly collected a few more of the exchange, struggling to not melt into mush on the spot at the fluffiness of it all. Her chest was so full of warmth, she felt like exploding into butterflies and rainbows. This was just about the sweetest, cutest thing she'd ever seen! Finally, her beloved was back where he belonged--with his family. The Silver Wolf had found his pack again.

When she heard the telltale, trembling sigh, Bess slipped her phone away and moved to her husband. Pulling out a hankie she'd taken to carrying around ever since meeting her Wolf (undoubtedly a habit she'd picked up from him), she reached up and gently dabbed a stray tear off his nose. When the man opened his eyes to look at her, she smiled in gentle reassurance and understanding. The next thing she knew, her man was reaching out and curving an arm around her to pull her into the cuddle as well. Bess didn't object and melted into him, wrapping one arm around his waist and reaching up with the other to pat Starla's back.

Starla pulled away from Wolf's neck and looked Bess' way, grinning like the sun when she saw who was there "Annie Bweth!" She practically threw herself at the woman even as her uncle kept a hold on her, and hugged her auntie's face, snuffling into her soft, sweet-smelling curls. "I wuv you too, Annie Bweth!"

Bess laughed, her voice breaking a bit as her own eyes welled up with tears. She did her best to hug the child back in their awkward, somewhat tangled position. "Aw, I love you too, Sweetpea!" She looked up at her husband through a cage of toddler arms, joy and hope sparkling in her watery eyes to replace the anxiety that had once dwelt there. Her brother-in-law liked her! Her niece loved her!

His own eyes still shimmering with tears, Wolf smiled back at his wife and nodded. He hugged her closer and bowed his head to hers. He planted a kiss in her hair. "Welcome to the family, Auntie Bess," he purred into her ear. "I told you they'd love you."

@rom-e-o @ray-painter @crimson-phantom-designs @m0nsterwife @christmasgaybusinessmen @thedivinelights @purgratoriat @themostanonymousscribbler @oldmanlusting @the-house-of-auditore-frye

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.112 - The Call

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

Kiera receives a call from the last person she'd expect...

This is a very short chapter and I'm sorry! I may come back and add to it later, but I've been compiling many ideas to keep adding to this story so that I don't have to wait until the new game comes out in November and I'm sure you guys wouldn't want to wait until November for an update!

*

"I really don't want to leave," Kiera sighed once they stepped into the airport terminal towards the waiting area. "I had such a great time. I'm definitely glad you didn't give me any hints about the surprise!" 

"I'm glad, love. You looked stunning wearing that dress." 

"I can say the same about you, babe. You pulled off looking good in that suit. Too bad we can't stay in that era forever." 

"I'm sure it was worse than what it is now." 

Once they took their seats to wait on their next flight, Kiera crossed her legs while Simon's left hand rested on her knee, again bouncing his foot impatiently while he kept a stark eye on the entrance and exit points of the terminal. "Uh oh," Kiera giggled, breaking Simon out of his protective glance and pulling her phone from her purse. "Baler is calling me." 

"Brace yourself for a heap of trouble," Simon grumbled. "Your mum has been calling us twice a day since we've left telling us about the twins, but when that lad calls, he's either up to something or is testing the water..." 

"He might just be calling because he misses us!" She rolled her eyes after Simon shot her a glare that said the teen was lying. 

"He's a teenager. The last thing on his mind is calling his parents who are on their honeymoon just to ask how they are. He's probably sleeping in our bed, eating all of my favorite snack cakes for when I want to cheat on my diet, drinking all of your Dr. Pepper, and feeding Kimber what he doesn't eat." 

Kiera couldn't help but laugh, "I thought you were quitting eating those cakes altogether?" 

"I am... Once they're all gone. I only eat one once a week." 

"Yeah," She scoffed. "One pack! Which has two cakes in the pack!"

"I can't help there's two in the pack!" 

"I know, Simon. It's okay to have a favorite cheat food for someone as strict on yourself like you are." 

"Have to stay in shape for my job." 

"Yeah, and when you eventually deploy again," She frowned at the thought, looking down at her lap to answer her ringing phone. "Hello?" 

"Momma, when are you coming home?" 

"Depends on what you're about to tell me," Kiera replied, arching her brow and putting him on speaker. "Is everything okay?" 

"Well," Baler huffed. "Everything is fine here at home, but my ego isn't okay." 

"Bloody hell." Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

"What happened?" 

"So, Nana couldn't pick me up from school today because she was still stuck at the doctor's office, so she asked Johnny to come and pick me up..." 

"Okay? What's the problem with that?" 

"Well... He couldn't find the keys to his car at first and - you know how they've been staying at the house with me on the weekends?-"

"They have their own house to stay in!" Simon barked, startled, ignoring the breathy laugh Baler let out at his father's sudden rise of blood pressure. 

"Take me off speaker, mom... Dad's going to get mad." 

"Okay," Kiera giggled, not doing as he requested because she too was eager to see how Simon was going to react with whatever it was that Baler was about to inform them on. "Alright, you're off speaker." 

"Good. Anyway, Teeter was going to take your truck like you told her she could, but the truck needed diesel and DEF and she didn't have time to run to the store, so-"

"Don't fucking tell me they took my car." Simon muttered quietly. 

"-She gave Johnny the keys to dad's car." 

"Oh... Is that all that happened?" 

"No, being picked up in a Hellcat definitely didn't hurt my ego," Baler laughed. "It's what Johnny did when he picked me up that did." 

"What did he do?" 

"I didn't know it was him at first until I saw my name on that big ass - sorry - big ole card that's supposed to go on the dashboard and at first I got excited because I thought it was dad coming to pick me up and you were going to surprise me by coming home early, but anyway Johnny started blasting that stupid bagpipe song or whatever it was at max volume yelling "SCOTLAND FOREVER! SCOTLAND KNOWS WHAT TIME IT IS!" out the window like he's some drunk idiot and wouldn't even turn it down after I got in the car. I saw his phone too, so I know he was taking a video to probably send it to dad later to piss him off. And he was shouting something like "GIVE EM STEEL LADS!" and I'm emotionally vulnerable until you come home."

Kiera couldn't help but laugh at the imagined scenario, looking over at Simon to see his face beet red. Even though she knew he was livid, she knew he'd be laughing about it later. Especially if they were to somehow see the video from Johnny himself. 

(Author's Note: Here is the video in question to give you a full picture ;) Please giggle and enjoy it like I did because it's 100% accurate! I also couldn't find it on YouTube, so I'll have to copy the link to the video here so you can open it on TikTok or your Safari browser: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Fejgkk/

"I'm sorry, baby," Kiera giggled. "Did he at least get you home safe and sound?" 

"Yes. He didn't even scratch dad's car and I'm surprised." 

"He better be glad he didn't, lad." Simon scoffed. 

"Mom! I thought you took me off speaker!" 

"Um, I did! Simon can just hear really well!" 

"Yeah, right. When are you coming home?" 

"We're at the airport now." Simon grumbled. 

"That doesn't tell me anything." 

"Love, he's getting his attitude from you. You should do something about that." He murmured with a playful glare. 

"Maybe it's a good thing," She retorted. "We're at the airport in Manchester. We were supposed to fly home yesterday because our cruise got cancelled, so we stayed the night in a hotel and are taking the first flight back to the States. We're going to land in Nashville and stay a night before getting on another flight that takes us to Cody." 

"Okay." 

"Are you at the house or with your Nana?" 

"I'm at Nana's. It's not a far walk," He snickered.

"How're your brother and sister?" 

"They're good. Never caused any problems since you two left. I think Evie said dada at one point, but she's been quiet ever since."

"She did??" Simon questioned, his heart thudding with excitement.

"That's what Nana was sayin'. I'm just laying on the couch while she's making dinner-"

"Why don't you go and help her?" Simon scoffed. 

"Alright. Oh, hold on. Someone's knocking on the door. I'll get it, Nana!" They heard Baler exclaim from the other side of the phone. "Um... Hello?" 

"Hello," The sound of a woman replied back. "Do you know where I can find your mother?"

Kiera's brows furrowed at the conversation she and Simon were both hearing from the other side of the phone. 

"May I ask who you are?"

"Tell her that Kate from Butte came by to see her. I was in town and wanted to catch up." 

"Um... Okay, I'll tell her," Baler spoke before directing his attention to Kiera on the other side of the phone after the mysterious middle-aged woman dismissed herself from the porch and back towards her car, Baler keeping a confused eye on her from the window after he had shut and locked the door. "Momma, some lady from butt came to see you." 

"From where?" 

"Butt - you know, that town in Montana?" 

"You mean Butte?" She breathed a laugh. "I don't know anyone from Butte, honey." 

"Well, she sure knows you," Baler scoffed. "Said her name was Kate." 

Kiera's breathing halted briefly, immediately looking at Simon who shared the same expression as her. Why didn't she call me? "Okay." 

"She's still sitting in her car. Want me to take the phone to her?" 

"No, that's fine. I'll call her. Our flight is boarding now. I'll call you when I can, okay?" 

"Okay, momma. Be careful. I love you. Tell dad I said I loved him too." 

"Love you too." Simon answered, hearing him as clear as day since he was on speaker. 

He looked at Kiera with a concerned gaze, watching her end her call with Baler before finding Kate's phone number. "Put it on speaker." 

"I can't if it's classified, Simon," She sighed before reaching into her purse to pull out a pair of AirPods from their case. "Here, put one in your ear and I'll put the other in mine. Just don't say anything." 

"Okay, love."

They both heard the phone ring roughly four times before she answered, "Kiera, I see word travels fast when I come to visit." She chuckled. 

"Was it just a visit, though?" 

"I wish I could say it was," She sighed. "I had forgotten you were still on your honeymoon when I pulled up to your house and realized that you weren't home with your truck and car sitting in the driveway. Is there any way you could meet me in Jackson Hole after you get back?" 

"Why Jackson Hole? Why not meet me at the ranch?"

"With what I'm about to tell you doesn't need to be said on your ranch." 

[allegra-writes]

"Favourite Crime"

Part II: What's in a name?

Alexander Morozova x Reader

General audience

Warnings: None. Eventual smut.

Summary: The second time you meet Aleks, he is kind of a jerk. Scratch that, he is a total jerk.

Part I

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

"Come on, just twenty more"

"I hate you"

"No, you don't" Inej dismissed with a wave of her hand, "Come on, this is the last series, I know you can do this!" 

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of it, Inej was an amazing friend, but a brutal trainer. Not that her torture methods didn't payed off, when you had first met, you wouldn't even dare to dream of doing even a single v-up, let alone attempting the aerial acrobatics in silks and ropes and trapezes she was a pro at. And now here you were, just twenty v-ups away from a hundred, even if you were still barely at a beginner acrobat.  

Struggling, you raised your arms above your head, trying to get both your legs and your upper body towards the ceiling.

"Very good, that's nineteen left, come on yaar, we got this" 

With a groan, you repeated the movement, barely able to hold your position for a fraction of a second before falling flat on your back again.

"Eighteen! Come on, you can't give up now!" A different voice chimed in and you looked up to meet the kind, sky coloured eyes of Alexei, one of the few regulars at the gym that seem more interested in talking to you than to your, admittedly gorgeous, friend. You tried to offer him a small, grateful smile that might or might not have come out as a grimace. 

"Seventeen! You're a natural!" Even Inej snorted at that, but you found it hard to feel offended when Anya and Aadhira, a couple of twins with Olympic dreams, also came to kneel beside you in a show of support.

"Sixteen! Come on, grandma, you got this!" 

You threw the twins a dirty look,

"Hey! Show some respect to your elders!" 

By the time the countdown hit ten, a small crowd had gathered around you and Inej, cheering and clapping with every new exercise completed. 

That was exactly what you loved about Hell's Kitchen, it wasn't cool or glamorous, even the gym you were at was little more than a cold, glorified warehouse, and not even in the hipster fashionable way. But there was a sense of community, of companionship, that you very much doubted could be found anywhere else in the city. 

"Just five more," Inej vowed, "five more and I'll buy you waffles!" 

You collapse in a heap of breathless giggles, 

"I think you got the wrong friend, that might work on Nina, but not on me" Meeting your cheerleaders' eyes, you declared, "Sorry guys, that's it, I literally can't move"

A chorus of disappointed noises followed your statement.

"Hey, ninety-five is still impressive!" 

"Yeah! Pavel, I would like to see you do ten!" Alexei and Inej's words were enough to get the little group dispersed, properly chastised. Some even murmured their apologies or gave her their congratulations and thumbs up as they passed. You waved tiredly at them, still unable to stand from your mat. 

"This is it, guys. I'm dying. It was nice knowing you all"

Inej rolled her eyes at your dramatics,

"Stop that, you're not dying"

"Yes I am. This is the end, I mean it. Everything is fading to black…"

"I'll let you pass out at home," Inej promised, "but come on, get up now. I would like to take a shower before my shift…" 

"I'm glad I traded mine with Jes, there is no way I could stand on my feet for six hours after this" 

Inej made a face suspiciously close to a pout,

"Yeah, but… I can't believe you're going to miss girls night. Nina says she has big news for us" 

You chuckled, trying (and failing) to sit up,

"She's already pregnant, what could be bigger than that?" 

"Maybe The Waffle House is finally taking her repeated requests into consideration and making salted chocolate bacon waffles?" 

"She would tell us right away if that was the case. No way she could keep that inside" You extend your arms towards your friend, "Help me up? Let's get home so I can nap" 

A single tug had you on your feet as she shoved a water bottle into your hands.

"That's a better idea than that monstrosity Jes and you like to drink" 

"Our Coffee-Cola? You should try it instead of judging, it's good, I swear!"

"I think I'll pass"

You linked your arm around your friend's, subtly supporting yourself on her as you walked.

"We've been thinking about adding syrup to make different flavours. You know, vanilla, caramel, toffee nut..."

Her voice was both disapproving and resigned as she shook her head.

"Only you and Jesper could find a way to make that drink even more unhealthy" 

"I think it sounds delicious" Alexei said from the other side of Inej, trying to insert himself back into the conversation, "I would love to try it"

"Well, stop by the coffee shop sometime and we'll make one for you" 

You missed the way his face fell slightly at that. Inej didn't. 

"Maybe tonight?" She suggested, "She's working the late shift, and those are eternal. I'm sure she would appreciate the company. Wouldn't you, yaar?" 

"I mean, Wylan is gonna be there but yeah, sure. The more the merrier!" 

"The late shift?" You could hear Alexei's frown, "Isn't that kinda dangerous?" 

"It's a coffee shop in a very well lit avenue, Alex, not a crack den on some alley" 

"Yeah, but this is still New York. And there are gangs around here…"

Poor summer child, you thought. Of course Alexei, sweet, innocent Alexei, had no idea. No one would ever dream of touching the cafe. 

"It's a safe block. I wouldn't have agreed otherwise, Alex. You know I'm not exactly the jump-into-danger type" 

He hummed noncommittally, making Inej and you exchange a look. The blond boy had been raised in a very traditional, very sheltered, if humble, way. You'd bet a whole week of tips he was kind of guy who would wait till marriage, provide for his family and insist his wife be a full time stay at home mom. 

It wasn't just your job, you were sure he would probably frown at any job that had a woman working late. 

But contrary to popular belief, the graveyard shift wasn't so bad. You actually loved the late nights spent with your friends, listening to indie covers of popular songs, making coffee for exhausted looking, but usually polite enough, thugs, serving ultra strong energy drinks for the college kids pulling all nighters, and offering a safe place to sober up to the girls that had had one too many at Luke's bar down the street. 

Tonight was a slow night lazing around with Wylan, the youngest of the crew, a kind, shy boy with intelligent eyes and a mop of strawberry blonde hair, in companionable silence as you read a new book and he scribbled away some new chemical formula on one of his many notebooks. There was nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary was about to happen, nothing in the way Wyl bent over his work, counter a chaos of paper balls and torn out pages. Nothing in the light drizzle falling against the windows, or in the streaming flow of texts in the group chat you shared with Inej and Nina, to prepare you for the elegant, deadly predator that was about to walk in, ready for the kill. 

The bell above the door chimed announcing the arrival of a new customer, and you raised your eyes just in time to see him walk in, in another dark suit and expensive coat combo. 

Aleks looked as good as you remembered, if not better, 

"Good evening, Hendriks," He greeted, politely, "Miss Orlova" 

You blanched, the smile dying on your face.

"You've been asking about me" 

He shrugged, the movement a little too graceful for it to be called casual. 

"Pretty girl like you showing up this side of town? I was curious…" 

You wondered exactly how curious you had made him. There was a big difference between him asking your name to your co-workers and him being curious enough to pay someone to investigate you or do a little research of his own. 

But which one of the guys could have given him your last name? Kaz wasn't one to give up information, any information, inconsequential as it may seem, for free. Inej was out of the question, Jesper would have mentioned something. That left Matthias and Wylan by your side as the only possibilities, and even if you weren't sure how much of your story they knew, somehow they didn't seem like the sharing type. 

No, you didn't think he had gotten that name from any of them. That fact wasn't half as comforting as it should have been. Because the alternative, having a grisha sniffing around your papers, couldn't be a good thing. 

No matter how legit looking you had been assured they were. 

You tried to relax your stiffened posture, tried to remain cool. You had to find out exactly how much he knew. 

"Well, then, sorry to disappoint." 

"Disappoint?" The tiny crease between his brows was not adorable.

"Yeah, I'm really not that interesting…" 

"Are we talking about the same girl here?"

Were you? You remembered the folder still sitting untouched on your dresser that Nina had given you with everything you needed to know about one miss Ava Orlova. You promised yourself you would read it as soon as you got home. For real this time. 

Not knowing what to reply, you deflected, only partially faking the self-deprecation in your tone,

"Look at me" You pointed at your grey uniform, "Do I seem interesting?"

"I am looking" He replied, eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, as he appeared to lose his train of thought. 

He cleared his throat, apparently remembering himself

"Ava Voronovna Orlova, nice, traditional Ravkan name you got going on there"

You made an effort not to react. He was watching you closely, and it wouldn't do for him to notice. Grabbing a rag, you started whipping down what little of the counter wasn't occupied by Wylan's things. 

"Thanks, I guess..."

He tsked. 

"Here's the thing tho... You don't look Ravkan"

You halted your movements. Had he any idea just how racist that had sounded?

"Well, things aren't always what they seem" You bit back, patience running thin.  The reply seemed to amuse him.

"No, I guess they aren't" 

"Are you ready to order now" It was more of a bark than a question, "sir?"

He shrugged,

"Why don't you surprise me?"

Do not punch the customers, you reminded yourself Donotpunchthecostumers, donotpunchthecostumers…

Gritting your teeth, you schooled your face to give him your fakest customer service smile,

"Sure, any preferences?"

His eyes roving over your body felt almost like a physical caress. If you were honest with yourself, it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.

You hated being honest with myself. 

"Something hot. And sweet" he finally said. You were pretty sure he wasn't talking about coffee anymore. 

It was a relief, to turn away and start working on his drink, to have an excuse to break free of those dark, inquisitive eyes. You would have liked nothing more than to decorate them with a pretty, black bruise to match. But mad as you were at him, you were angrier at yourself. Had you or had you not flirted back the first time he had been there? At the very least you had been receptive, sparked his interest…

No, you decided. It wasn't your fault, you had simply been professionally polite. Sometimes, assholes confused politeness for flirty behaviour. Especially handsome, entitled assholes like Aleks. 

You were going to make sure he didn't make that mistake again. 

Turning back around, you placed the drink in front of him unceremoniously. He eyed the clear plastic cup suspiciously.

"Is it hot and sweet?"

"It's an iced americano" You deadpanned. A beat went by, then another.

Beyond the initial, childish satisfaction, panic was beginning to set in. What were you doing? This man was dangerous, you knew that. And if you had any doubts, a quick glance at the Beretta tucked under his jacket was reminder enough.

But in the end, he simply threw his head back, letting out a howl of a laugh that seemed to surprise him almost as much as it surprised you. 

"Guess I deserve this, don't I?" 

You raised a defiant brow,

"I can always take it back"

He shook his head, still smiling.

"No no. Far it be from me to scorn a pretty girl by turning down her especially made coffee. Or worse, have Kaz take it off your paycheck." 

Kaz would never do something like that, but you didn't say it, choosing instead to keep silent as he looked at you dead in the eye and took a valiant gulp of the cold, bitter drink. The effect would have probably been more intimidating or seductive if he wasn't slurping it from a straw. 

"That" Aleks finally declared, voice steady and face carefully blank, "is fucking disgusting"

You could feel the smile breaking on your face when a familiar, unsure voice spoke, popping the bubble that seemed to envelope you and Aleks whenever he came around, the one you didn't notice until it was gone. 

"Ava?"

"Alexei," You didn't have to pretend the surprise in your voice, "you came!" 

"I told you I would… am I interrupting something?"

"Yes"

"No!"

Aleks ignored both your annoyed affirmation and Alexei's presence, softly shaking his head

"Sorry," He sounded anything but, "I still say you don't look like an Ava…"

Your stomach dropped, was he ever going to let that go? Or should you be texting Inej and Nina to let them know you might be having a new problem in your hands?

"And what do I look like, according to you?"

Aleks seemed to think about it for a second, the tip of his tongue coming out to moisten his lips. He didn't miss the way your eyes traced the movement. 

He smirked,

"kak ochen' krasivaya devushka" He replied in perfect ravkan, already turning away, "Goodnight, Ava. Kid." 

You watched him go, feeling your face burn. When you chanced a glance at him, you saw Alexis was as red as you felt, but him for very different reasons, as the final disdainful look Aleks had thrown his way had been downright humiliating.

"What… what the hell was that?"

You shook your head, unable to explain.

"Wylan, I'm taking my ten" You announced, tossing your apron over your head and crossing to the other side of the counter. Wyl startled, as if waking from a dream, raising his head from his notebook for the first time. Count on the little genius to miss the exchange of the night.

"Ava?" Alexei asked again, as you took his hand, dragging him out of the cafe, but you simply shook your head again.

"Let's go to Luke's" you said, in lieu of all explanation. After the most disturbingly, unnecessary handsome grisha in all of New York all but flat out told you he didn't buy your fake identity, only to turn around and call you beautiful before disappearing into the night, you deserved a drink. And a strong one at that.

To be continued...

*kak ochen' krasivaya devushka: like a beautiful girl

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

"I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met." memory loss angst? 👉👈🥺

anon... fam, this turned into an emotional rollercoaster and totally stole my braincell.

3.8k words. angst with a happy ending. 

tw: memory loss, minor anxiety, repressed memories, idiots to lovers, whump, angst with a happy ending, angst with a fluffy ending

---

It’s been three hours, five minutes, and forty-two seconds since the frigid breeze whipped Geralt’s angry words at him, shattering his fragile, stupid heart to pieces. Every syllable rings through Jaskier’s head over and over, slamming into him from all directions and crippling him with a bone-deep pain far worse than anything he’s ever felt before. The ache ebbs and flows, lancing through him with every step. Not even Geralt’s first frustrated blow to his abdomen had been this terrible.

Geralt… That’s the problem, isn’t it? He hadn’t been smart enough to get out of the gorgeous Witcher’s long, silvery hair soon enough. He’d overstayed his welcome, fallen in love in the meantime, and is now very out of sorts (and also alone in unfamiliar territory). The bard laughs but it’s a hollow sound. Jaskier has reached the edge of hysteria, his intelligent blue eyes now vacant and unseeing. Even as he stumbles through the underbrush, all he can picture is the snarl on Geralt’s face as the Witcher yells at Destiny to take Jaskier off his hands. 

Jaskier’s own hands are covered in sap and splinters from pushing tree branches away from his face as he traverses the darkening forest. His hair is full of debris and his clothes are torn and dirty; Geralt has all of his emergency supplies, still. Jaskier is pretty sure that his lute is still strapped over his shoulder but he realizes, with no small amount of surprise, that he doesn’t actually care.

He doesn’t have the capacity anymore. 

He can’t care… caring hurts too much.

If only Destiny had taken him off Geralt’s hands. Maybe then it would be okay. Maybe then, if Geralt was well and truly free of him and his irritating presence, the Witcher could be happy. He and Yennefer will surely come back around, they always seem to, and Ciri will be joining them soon enough it seems. 

There’s no need - no room - for a humble bard anymore.

Only five hours, thirty minutes, and twelve seconds after Geralt’s outburst at the top of the mountain, Jaskier’s delicate human body succumbs to the stress of the day.

He drops to the forest floor without a sound, grateful for the darkness.

---

Yennefer finds the bard in a heap a few miles away from the previous night’s elevated campsite. When she presses the back of her hand to his forehead she yanks it away almost immediately; he’s burning up, and his skin is clammy and sticky with sweat. The feathery bangs he flicks about and preens so much are stuck to his forehead and temples. He’s on the verge of shaking apart and Yennefer tosses her head imperiously, swearing.

“Damnit, Geralt. You and your incredibly foolish need to be alone all the time so you can brood and self-flagellate. Me, an ageless sorceress from one of the greatest magic schools on the Continent? I can handle a thorough tongue lashing. Fuck, I’m older than you and I’ve seen far worse but this… oh, you great lummox. You absolute bastard…” Yennefer mutters to herself as she assesses the bard’s deteriorating state of health, ranting to an invisible Geralt all the while. “You’re absolutely going to be hearing from me about this, Wolf.”

--- Three days, one hour, and fifteen minutes after Geralt dismissed him forever, Jaskier wakes up with a loud gasp and a violent shudder. He blinks slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in through a window. Whatever he’s lying on is comfortable and the sheets smell fresh and bright, like lilac and freesia. A hint of gooseberry lies beneath it all, delicate and sweet. He glances around the space and finds it to be relatively bare; a guest room, perhaps. Maybe he’s a servant at some noble house? 

Jaskier only really knows that his name is Jaskier and that he plays music. He’s also rather talented with floral arrangements. 

Shortly after he’s finished purveying his (borrowed?) chamber, the very image of grace, beauty, and terror enters the room. The woman, whose coppery skin and enchanting violet eyes practically glow in the midafternoon sun, smiles down at him in a way that toes the line between Motherly and Shark-like. 

“How are you feeling, Jaskier?”

“I’m alright. And you?”

“Just fine. Geralt really did a number on us, huh?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. He has the feeling that something isn’t right; she shouldn’t be looking at him so kindly. 

Her expression changes from friendly to horrified to confused in an instant, as soon as Jaskier manages to ask: “Who’s Geralt? And, pardon me, but I feel as if something is rather amiss. Who are you, my Lady?”

Whoever the gorgeous and terrifying woman is, she grimaces briefly. Then, as if by magic, the comforting smile returns. “I’m Yennefer, of course. I saved your life a few years ago, remember?”

Jaskier wracks his brain but cannot call the occasion to mind. “Unfortunately no, I don’t remember your no doubt heroic deed. Although I suppose that means I’m in your debt, doesn’t it? Do I work for you? Is that why I’m here?”

The woman blinks a few times, slowly, and then nods. “You’re my gardener and personal musician.”

Jaskier brightens, happy to have found himself in a safe environment. 

“But you’ve had a nasty illness and your mind is clearly fatigued. Rest another day or two and then we can see about getting you back into the fresh air.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Jaskier nods.

“Yen is fine.”

“Thank you, Yen. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he grins. 

---

Yennefer turns away to hide her pained expression. You’d probably still be with your beloved Witcher. 

She makes her way to the kitchen to fix Jaskier something to eat. He must be hungry after spending three days in a deep, healing sleep. She hadn’t been expecting the amnesia, though; it was an unexpected but not unsurprising turn of events. Heartbreak had done stranger things than a little bit of fever-induced memory loss. When she’d delved briefly into his mind she hadn’t seen any sign of Geralt. His face was absent from the bard’s consciousness; she would have needed to dig to unearth those memories. Whatever the Witcher had done was grievous, especially if Jaskier’s mind compensated with something as dramatic as burying Geralt completely to save itself from further harm.

No matter, she decides, the bard can stay here as long as he likes. It’s the least I can do for all the upset Geralt and I have caused him. Where is that idiot Witcher, anyway?

The sorceress quickly clears her agenda and her mind before returning to her guest room with a large tray of food, a bottle of Toussainti red under her arm. “Jaskier, darling, let’s get your convalescence started in style!”

---

2 months later

---

Jaskier watches a strange man ride up the long path to Yennefer’s manor, the hilts of his twin swords glinting in the sun where they’re slung over his shoulder. He has long white hair and the most devastating jawline the bard/gardener (or ‘bardener’ as he says to irritate his darling employer) has ever laid eyes on. He’s clad all in black, from his plain linen shirt to his tight leather trousers; Jaskier thinks he’d also look rather lovely in dark blue or perhaps forest green.

In front of him, wrapped securely against his chest by one strong arm, sits a little girl with ashen hair and frightened eyes. Haunted eyes. Jaskier’s mind fills with ballads, some familiar and some oddly dreamlike, their lyrics half-obscured and hazy. Ciri, he thinks for no reason. Her name is Ciri. And she is a Princess.

The brunette scurries from the garden alongside the house to the kitchen, searching for the familiar cloud of Yennefer’s strong perfume. “My Lady?” 

“Darling?” the sorceress replies, coming around the corner. She raises her perfectly maintained eyebrows and her lips quirk up into a smirk. “Did you sprint all the way from the west lawn?”

“There’s a- strange man- on the- drive!” he huffs. “White hair- horse!”

“Oh,” her eyes go wide with surprise. Then, in a split second, they narrow to slits. “Oh.”

“Do you, uhm, know him?” Jaskier asks, twiddling his fingers. “He’s rather handsome, Yen. Is he a former lover?”

“Unfortunately,” she growls. “I can’t believe it’s taken him two fucking months to get here. He’d better have a damned good excuse.”

By now Jaskier can breathe normally again and he straightens up, shaking his long, shaggy hair from his eyes. “He had a child with him. She looked scared, Yen.”

“Cirilla!”

Yennefer dashes for the front door and Jaskier follows instinctually. They’re always together and he can’t bear to let her confront this man alone. He’s spent every waking moment with Yen since he awoke that first day and she has grown to be his dearest friend; he’ll protect her even unto death. “Yenna, what’s wrong? Who is he!?”

“Geralt of Rivia,” she snarls. The name seems familiar; maybe from a ballad or story? Perhaps Yen has mentioned him before? 

“What about Geralt of Rivia?” a low, rumbling bass asks from the front hallway. Jaskier and Yennefer arrive in the doorway together and the man, Geralt apparently, takes a shaky step back. He recoils a bit, as if he’s been slapped, and Yennefer’s smile grows cruel. His voice, still incredibly low but now with a slight tremor to it, stutters out; “Wha- Yen, what is he- Jaskier? I only came to ask for help with Ciri, I didn’t know- I didn’t-”

Geralt’s stammered speech tapers off into silence and Yennefer’s brow furrows a second time. When the sorceress sets eyes on the child, who cannot be more than twelve years old, her expression softens again. Jaskier watches the most imposing woman in the world kneel, taking one small, pale hand in both of her own. “My name is Yennever of Vengerberg, former Sorceress of Aretuza. I am honored to meet you, Princess Cirilla. Geralt has come seeking protection, no doubt, and it is easily granted. I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Lady Yennefer. And, uhm… Ciri’s fine,” the girl replies. Her voice is high and reedy, shot through with anxiety. She’s so young, Jaskier frowns. And yet she seems to have weathered an incredible storm.

“Ciri,” the bard bows from the doorway, low and dramatic. He sweeps his arm out to the side and bends his knees as awkwardly as possible, “I am Jaskier, private troubadour and gardener extraordinaire, under the employ of the magnanimous and dangerous Lady Yennefer, here. It is my greatest honor to make your very mighty and very royal acquaintance.”

“You’re silly, Master Jaskier,” the child giggles, hiding her mouth behind her hands. Geralt’s eyes grow wide and dart between Jaskier and the girl. Yennefer makes meaningful eye contact before nodding toward the door. Jaskier looks down at Ciri again when she asks: “Do you grow lots of flowers in Lady Yennefer’s garden, or just herbs and things for magic?” 

“I grow lots of things all over the property,” the brunette man steps forward and offers Ciri his hand, gesturing towards the front door with the other. “Would you like to come and take a look? I know all the scientific names, you can even quiz me if you like.”

“I know some,” she smiles shyly, accepting the offered hand. “May I go take a look at the gardens, Geralt?”

“Go ahead,” the Witcher nods dumbly. “Jaskier will take good care of you.”

“That I will. Now, let’s take a look at the flowers and let these silly adults have a chat,” Jaskier grins. He winks at Yennefer and disappears out the door, exiled Princess in tow. 

The two lively companions have toured through all the medicinal herbs and are halfway through Yennefer’s large collection of rose variations when the two other members of the party approach. Geralt looks sheepish, his eyes downcast. Yennefer looks triumphant; she is radiant in her victory as always. 

Geralt steps forward, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Jaskier, I’ve come to apologize for what happened when we parted.”

“Excuse me?” the bard chuckles, raising an eyebrow.  "I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, exactly.”

“When I yelled at you after the dragon hunt. It was only two months ago, Jaskier, surely you remember?”

Jaskier blushes, glancing anxiously between Geralt and his friend, whose violet eyes are stormy with emotion, “I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met."

Geralt gasps sharply and takes a step back, as he did in the entryway. Jaskier winces, seemingly on instinct, and shies away from the larger man. “You don’t remember me?”

“No…” Jaskier sighs. “I really don't. Should I?”

“You don’t… You don’t even remember Toss a Coin?”

“Oh, that ditty from town?” Jaskier perks up. “I know that song! It always gets stuck in my head.”

“You… You wrote that song,” Geralt’s face crumples. “About our first adventure together outside of Posada. With the elves and the sylvan...”

“I’ve never been to Posada,” Jaskier laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “They hate bards. They prefer troupes of traveling play-actors. Posada is far too serious for my tastes.”

Geralt seems to be in agony. His chest rises and falls unevenly, as if he’s on the verge of tears but unable to shed them. Can Witchers cry? 

How does he know that Geralt is a Witcher? Is it the two swords, the scars, or the strange eyes? How does he know that those are common Witcher traits?

His stomach lurches and he turns away from the group in case he needs to be sick. The ground spins and shivers in little ripples around him, unstable and impermanent beneath his feet. Yennefer is calling his name from somewhere far away and a pair of warm, strong arms are looped around his waist. Still, he can’t seem to breathe. Or focus.

There’s something missing. 

He starts to hum, trying to remember the words of that damned song.

The rest of the world fades in and out around him, finally disappearing altogether.

---

He’s gorgeous. 

Jaskier shoves another roll into his pocket. His eyes are focused on the man in the corner. He has long, snow-white hair and his shoulders are hunched forward protectively, as if he can hold the world out by sitting by himself. He’s glaring the table into submission, one fist clenched around his tankard. 

I want to write him a thousand ballads. I want to know what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning, before he brushes it out again. I want to know if he snores. I want… he stops himself. 

He makes his way across the room with eyes only for the stranger. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

The man looks away and Jaskier notices that his irises are gold. “I’m here to drink alone.”

Gods, his fucking voice… Velvet and gravel all at once. Melitele, does Jaskier want. “Good, yeah. Good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance… except for you.”

The man, the Witcher, Jaskier realizes, rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” he wheedles, sitting down across from the gorgeous stranger. “You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less.”

The man’s face stays stoic, expressionless. “They don’t exist.”

He realizes shortly thereafter that this man is not just any Witcher but the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. He could try to disengage himself from such a daunting character; he could easily make some kind of excuse and disappear back to the troubadour’s path, heading towards civilization, but it’s already too late. He doesn’t want to leave Geralt’s side ever again; he wants to write all those ballads he was thinking about earlier, when he glanced across the room. 

Jaskier has fallen head over heels in love. ---

Geralt cradles Jaskier against his chest and presses his nose deep into those chestnut brown waves. “Wake up, Jaskier. Come back to me, bard, it’s been too long.”

“Don’t you usually go all winter without seeing him?” Yennefer asks from the doorway. 

“It’s hell,” he replies easily. There’s no point in hiding his feelings from her. “I miss him every minute of every day.”

“Verbose this evening,” she remarks, taking a seat by the fire. “He’s dreaming, you know. He’s remembering you.”

“He’d forgotten?”

“He’d repressed it all,” she shrugs. “When I found him that day, feverish and nearly dead on the side of that godsforsaken mountain, he was barely coherent enough to open his eyes. He just kept asking for you, Geralt. Over and over he called for you, reaching his arms up, weak as they were. Gods, it was pitiful to watch.”

Geralt swallows. 

“I thought you were going to come back sooner. I was surprised when his memories didn’t resurface after two or three weeks. Short-term memory loss after a fever isn’t uncommon but repressing twenty years worth of feelings and experiences-” she whistles lowly “-it was impressive and tragic, all at once.”

“He forgot me?”

“Entirely.”

Geralt glances down, shame-faced. He adjusts Jaskier in his arms, holding him close and pillowing the bard’s head against his shoulder. “I deserve it, Yen.”

“He’s remembering now, though. He’ll probably be a little less than pleased to see you when he wakes up, but he knows who you are.”

“When will he wake?”

“Can’t say,” she shrugs again. “After I brought him back from the mountain it took three days for him to wake up. The first day was magically induced but after that it was just him… exhausted and heartbroken to the point of self-induced amnesia.”

“Fuck, Yen,” Geralt groaned, pressing his forehead into the soft warmth of Jaskier’s cheek. “How can I make it up to him?”

“Stay.”

“Hmm?”

“When he wakes up and he’s angry and upset, stay. Don’t stomp off or blow up or freak out,” she instructs. “If he asks you to leave, go, but otherwise… prove yourself, Geralt of Rivia. You wanted to be a knight once, didn’t you? Now’s your chance to play Prince Charming. Get down on your lovely knees and beg and apologize.”

“Hmm. How’s Ciri?”

“Fed, bathed, and put to bed. I’ll take care of her for as long as it takes you two morons to make nice again. Good luck, Geralt, I’m sure he’ll forgive you too easily for my tastes.”

She stands from her seat and leaves just as efficiently as she entered, carefully closing the door behind her. Geralt lays Jaskier back on the bed and takes a seat beside him on the mattress, kneeling just within touching distance, should Jaskier reach out for reassurance in his sleep. Geralt closes his eyes and slips easily into meditation. 

The Witcher is pulled from his trance a few hours later when Jaskier makes a startled sound and tries to sit up. Geralt opens his eyes and splays one warm, broad hand against Jaskier’s chest, forcing him back against the goose down pillows. “Stay still, Jaskier. You’re feverish and weak.”

“I’m still dreaming,” the bard grumbles, reaching to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s adorable and Geralt grins widely, warmth spilling into his chest from some newly discovered fount of happiness. “You’re being too nice to me, Witcher.”

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier, for everything.”

“What’s everything, Geralt?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away when I was angry and confused instead of communicating with you. I’m sorry for hurting you with my brash words and foolish actions; you have always deserved so much better and I’m so afraid that I can never give that to you. I take the wrong step at every turn, it seems, and yet you stay by my side. I didn’t want to risk hurting you the way I’ve already hurt Yen and Ciri, by tying us together against your will.”

“Darling Geralt,” the bard sighs. The Witcher scoots slightly closer and Jaskier lays a gentle hand atop his thigh. “It has always been my greatest pleasure to travel the Path with you and write of our adventures. I appreciate your concern for my agency and wellbeing, dear heart, but I am quite happy spending my entire human life in your presence.”

“Hmm,” the Witcher frowns. “You’re going to die someday.”

“And? So are you. So shall Yennefer, maybe.”

“Not likely,” Geralt jokes. Jaskier grins and the sight of it is so heartwarming that the Witcher wishes he could break down into tears. At least then Jaskier could see just how deeply his feelings ran. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, for blaming you for things that I brought upon myself. I love you dearly, and I hope that someday you can choose to travel with me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hope that you’ll-”

“No, the other bit.”

“I love you?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh. Yes, I-” Geralt clears his throat and looks Jaskier in the eyes, gold and blue locked together, “I love you very much, Jaskier.”

“Fuck.”

“May I kiss you, Jaskier?”

“Yes,” the bard breathes.

And then Geralt is lifting him up into his lap, one hand cradling Jaskier’s skull so so fucking carefully. Geralt’s other arm supports his waist, holding him steady. Their lips come together softly, carefully, and Jaskier’s soul spirals up to the ceiling with joy, his body abandoned. He is merely a vessel for the happiness that comes with kissing his Witcher. When they pull apart, both men are grinning like fools. “Oh, dear heart.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Never stop calling me that.”

“I swear I won’t, my love.”

From downstairs, Geralt hears Yennefer mutter, “Fucking finally.”

It takes twenty-two years, seven months, and one day, but Geralt and Jaskier manage to figure things out.

[itspdameronthings]

Getting Away From The Hurt

Happy Writing Wednesday. Here is my entry for @autumnleaves1991-blog's challenge. This weeks story is very dramatic. Doc ( female reader) walks into something that she didnt want to see. fearing the worst. Doc runs off. Could this relationship survive this screw up made by one of the boys?

Warning: lots of drama. male stupidity.

World as you know it started to crash around you. Couldn't see what you were seeing. Loves of your life flirting with two ladies. One with her arm around Benny's shoulder. Laughing at his jokes. Santi sees you out of the corner of his eye. Then noticed that look in your beautiful eyes. Look that would kill anyone. Couldn't get a word edgewise. Santi tried to make his introductions. You stomp your feet," oh, I see how it is. All the lies the two of you me about not ever looking or touching another women! How can I be so fucking stupid to believe you! I could take that from santi! Benny! How could you do that to me! My best friend! Thought we had something. Now I can't even look at you! So you can go and have your fun with this..!" The woman comes up to you," don't even call me trash! If you just calm down, listen to what Santiago and Ben have to say. You my dear will be begging for their forgiveness." Other women said," I agree. Temper like that would get you in a mighty heap of trouble "

Doc goes up to Benny and slaps him. Then knees Santiago in the groin. Tears in your eyes. Drive off towards somewhere you can cool off. Thought about calling ironhead. Then remembered he was on a date.Frankie was at his in-laws.

Benny and Santiago were trying to come to grips with what just happened. Both of them fear that they just lost the best thing that ever came into their lives. After the ladies left. The boys figured out where you went.

First place you went home.packed a bag. No note was left. Try not to shed any tears. Off you went to a place where they couldn't find you.

After saying goodnight to his date. Ironhead checked his phone. Noticed a text message from you. Telling him to call you. Something about his brother and friend screwed up. Think that they didn't love you anymore.

Will calls you. Only thing he got was your voicemail. Rubbing his beard. Look of a pissed off man. Goes looking for Benny and Santi. To set them straight. Not before calling Frankie for back up.

Soon you arrived at your destination. The elegant hotel that you wanted to stay at when it first opened. Never got the chance to go due to work and Benny's fight. Looking at your phone. See numerous texts from Benny and Santi. Thru the phone on the floor. Crying," how could they do this to me! With all we all have been through! Thought we had something special!" Looking around the room. There was a beautiful canopy bed.like the one you had as a girl. Bathroom was so beautiful. Something out of a dream. Thought it would be a good idea to take that bath. After undressing. You eased into the tub. Putting on your earbuds. Turned on a good playlist to make you zone out.

Meanwhile back at the house. Benny and Santiago come home to see that you came home to pack. Left no note. Both of them looked for any kind of clue to where you went. Will comes barging into the house. Since he has a key. With Frankie in tow. Not much of a hello. Will slugs santi in the face," WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU ! I GOT A TEXT FROM DOC ABOUT YOU AND BENNY WERE WITH TWO WOMEN! ARE YOU DUMB OR JUST PLAIN STUPID!" Santi pulls will off of him," she didn't let us explain! You know how she is. Now we can't find her! " Frankie cleared his throat," before we help you fix this serious fucked up job. Tell us who you were hanging out with." Benny and Santi tell them. Both of them looked at them. Will sighs," oh shit! "

Will tried to call you. Nothing. Until a few minutes later. You picked up the phone," finally you decide to check your phone! I'm in need of a good friend to talk to. " will sighs," I'm sorry Doc. I'm trying to smooth the waters right now. Yes, I'm with them. If you tell me where you are. I'll come over there." You texted him the location. Give the boys the location. Told them to not screw it up.

Soon the boys arrived at the hotel. Looking for the room you are staying at. The clerk gave them the number. Heading towards the fifth floor. Looking for the number. Once they did. Benny whispers," don't think we should knock.Going in there before she bails. Not leaving until we plead our case. Damn, I wish you prepared doc for their visit. You never think things through. Thought you learned the last time. Now she won't look at me the same she did before." Santi paced around," how many times I'm gonna say that I'm sorry about that,?!" Seeing the opportunity. Benny used the card key that was in the maid's cleaning cart.

You were relaxing in the tub. Eyes closed. Letting the water take you away. That moment was dashed when you opened your eyes. Trying not to yell," I don't want to see yall right now! Just leave me alone!" Santi shuts the door. Practically getting ready to go ballistic," if you stop being so fucking jealous all the time! I was trying to explain why we were with them! Sorry I didn't tell you before. Thought I could surprise you. Okay bad choice of words here. Okay! I'm gonna say it! Those girls were my sisters! My twin baby sisters. We're here to meet you now thanks to you. Mama is not gonna come to the wedding." Looking at sant and benny. Sinks yourself under the water. Benny pulls you out of the tub. Not before he fetched the towel that was on the counter," doc, I'm so sorry too. Wanna tell you about it,but Pope would not let me. I fell so bad about this. " holding him tight. Not before rubbing where you hit him," sorry for hitting you benny. As for you Santiago. If you ever ,ever try that stunt again. I swear to God I'll do more than kneeing you in the balls. As for your sisters? Let me call them. Don't want them to think I don't like them. Oh! By the way Garcia. Never mentioned that you had sisters. After how many years we all knew each other!"

After a few more minutes of chewing out santi and benny. Three of you finally made up. Both of them cuddled with you in the canopy bed. Benny did his best to make amends with you. By holding you tight. While Santi kisses your shoulder," I know I screwed again.i should have listened to mama. She told me not to surprise you. Thought I knew what I was doing." Benny tried to thump his head," I told ya too remember man? Didn't listen to me? What do I fucking know? I'm just a young member of the group." You looked at them," I'll try not to get so jealous. I admit it. I have issues with it. Try to work on it. I still love you my boys." Both of them kiss your cheek before turning off the lights.

[averageteaenjoyer]

Summary: You and George spend the morning romantically dancing in the middle of the kitchen.

Pairing: George x reader

|Sorry if I have mistakes, English is not my first language|

|I hope you like it|

Marimba rhythms

A few drops of cool water ran down to your fingertips and fell like swallows to the floor, leaving tiny puddles in their wake, while a couple of clean plates flew into place on the shelves. The morning sun smiled benevolently through the kitchen windows and several sunflowers nodded their petals to the spring wind, which ran like a young horse along the flower meadow. The rays of the warm sun playfully sent the sun bunnies to run along the walls of the house, as if they wanted to find new friends and embark on a morning waltz with them. The aroma of flowers and morning black coffee with pancakes mixed into a whirlwind of fluttering butterflies, just waking up from a long winter sleep.

(Y/n) slowly wiped her hands on a towel lying on the table and immediately stretched, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and fatigue. Several golden threads of the sun adorned her bare legs, slightly tickling her body, sending a herd of goosebumps to race across all open areas, forcing the girl to finish stretching as soon as possible. Her fingers slid to the radio standing on the table, near the vase with tulips, setting in motion a small technique, and as soon as the quiet melody reached her ears (Y/n) swayed slightly towards the mugs with morning coffee. Black with one spoonful of sugar for him and with milk and two teaspoons of sugar for her.

Placing drinks on a tray with two plates full of pancakes and several fillings in the form of honey and strawberry syrup, the girl began dancing out of the kitchen to the stairs to the second floor, where the bedroom is located, until a familiar song stopped her halfway. The first few notes ran through the sunny kitchen making (Y/n) freeze in place thinking about whether to listen to music or continue her way upstairs. But her legs carried the girl back, leaving the tray on the table near the exit from the room, immediately moving closer to the radio and making the music louder.

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Legs immediately rushed to circle (Y/n) in careful turns between all the obstacles of the kitchen. Hips deftly beat their own rhythm of the dance while their hands traced patterns in the air, completely unafraid to hit anything. The sun smilingly watched the girl's dance, sending her solar dancers as partners. The girl closed her eyes relying on her memory of space and whirled around in a waltz, not paying attention to the glare of the sun, which was trying to warm her body, as if urging her to dance at an even greater pace. (Y/n) grabbed a flower from a vase and made it her imaginary partner. She continued to almost jump among the chairs and other accessories. Coffee and breakfast lonely cooled on a table completely forgotten.

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance, you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

Heavy footsteps were quietly heard at the entrance to the room, and a tall figure froze for a second in the doorway until a soft laugh escaped his lips, and a honey voice ran in a warm wave across the room:

“Well, and I thought that someone here needs help.”

(Y/n) immediately froze in place, caught red-handed, but catching the glance of brown eyes so closely following her figure, she laughed softly.

“Well ... a pair of strong hands would be useful to me” girl took a few slow steps forward, rolling the tulip in her hands “Weasley”

George smiled coquettishly, pushing away from the doorway just as languidly approaching (Y/n). His fingers confidently slid to the girl's palms, taking the flower from her hands and immediately sending it back to the vase.

“You won't need it anymore” man smiled and stretched out his hand forward “let me invite you to dance, love.”

“How can I refuse you, Mr. Weasley?” (Y/n) giggled again and clinging to the twin's hand clung to his strong body.

“Thank you” George hid his one hand at (Y/n) waist while the fingers of the second intertwined with those of his partner “now my favorite part of the song will play.”

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway, I go weak

Their bodies swirled in an impromptu waltz as their feet carried them in different directions of the kitchen. George deftly led (Y/n) between all the obstacles, not taking his eyes off her figure, while she carefully looked around in an attempt not to crash into something. The man smiled lovingly and leaned forward slightly.

“Have I already said how beautiful you are, dear”

(Y/n) playfully examined the joker's face and slightly stretched her neck towards his face in an attempt to be closer.

“You say that too often, Georgie. I think I will soon feel like the beauty queen of this world” (Y/n) giggled, forcing the wrinkles around her eyes to become more visible than usual.

“But you are already a beauty queen.”

“Then you are the king of beauty, no, you are the GOD of beauty” Weasley smiled lovingly at the girl's words, again bending closer, catching her nose with his lips.

“Then you are Miss Universe, (Y/n)” the man smiled with satisfaction and continued in a teasing manner “now you won't argue with me.”

“Ah well!” the girl immediately caught herself and slightly moved away from the twin (receiving a displeased moan from his lips) and quickly examined him “since I can't give you a title, I'll just name everything that I love about you!”

“Really?”

“Of course” (Y/n) breathed as much air into her lungs as possible and looking into George's eyes began to happily list “I love your eyes, they remind me of the hot chocolate that you always cook for me, I love your shoulders because I can always hide my face there, your palms because they are always so warm and I love when you hold me in your arms, your hair, because it is so soft and I can always ruffle it and do some stupid hairstyle, I love your lips because they are so soft ... George ... I love you all because you remind me of family” (Y/n) broke into a smile from ear to ear and happily looked into the man’s eyes “you are my home, George.”

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

The smile on the man's lips quickly lit up his entire face and (Y/n) thought that he seemed to brighten up with happiness. Weasley, without wasting a single second, spun the girl in a crazy dance, as if they were in some stupid Spanish movie where they dance hot flamenco, as if their whole life rests on their movements. The twin twisted the girl around her axis and grabbing the partner's hips again carried her into an already more energetic dance, turning the kitchen into an impromptu scene. Several drops of sweat rolled down from the man's forehead that he pressed so hotly to (Y/n) forcing her to hug partner’s neck tighter to keep up with the rhythm of his hips and long legs.

"Are you tired yet, Mr. Weasley?" (Y/n) coquettishly raised an eyebrow watching the lively man opposite.

“No way, love” George slowed down his movements a little, but continued to heap to the beat of the music, without taking his eyes off the girl's face “but if you want to rest, honey” the man immediately knocked over (Y/n) holding her back with both hands “I'm always ready provide your services.”

“I’m still quite young, Weasley” the girl pulled herself up and returned back to a stable position “please do not underestimate me.”

“I would never” the joker innocently shrugged his shoulders, forcing (Y/n) to spin around her axis again, but this time pulling it even closer to his body “(Y/n) ... I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

(Y/n) giggled in embarrassment, looking at the man from under her eyelashes:

“You can always do it, George.”

The younger twin languidly closed his eyes and carefully placed his palms on the girl's cheeks, lightly stroking them with his thumbs, while (Y/n) looked expectantly into the man's brown irises.

“Can I kiss you, my love?” George softly whispered almost against girl's lips.

“Any time, Georgie,” (Y/n) answered him just as quietly.

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway, I go weak

The sun still silently illuminated the kitchen, kissing the tulip petals with its warm rays, while outside the window the spring wind played with the young grass. Birds sang romantic May tunes, as if feeling the whole atmosphere of this morning, and watched with interest the frozen couple in their home.

George moaned weakly into (Y/n)’s lips tasting her kiss again. The man impatiently licked the girl's lower lip, asking to let him inside, and as soon as he received a silent permission he immediately slipped his tongue into her mouth, feeling the familiar warmth. (Y/n) gripped Weasley's shoulders tighter so as not to fall to the floor because of the unexpectedly buckling legs and it seemed to her that the air around them became slightly hotter. George immediately caught a silent plea and immediately grabbed the girl by the waist, holding her, and at the same time began to impatiently lean forward.

The faint aroma of almost weathered expensive perfume surrounded the couple, tickling their nose, forcing (Y/n) to literally faint from an overabundance of sensations and the only thing that helped her was a quiet melody in the background creating an atmosphere of a warm and bright morning, preventing her from completely losing herself in a man, adding to her desires to finish the dance. Weasley, having caught the girl's silent desire (as he could always do), allowed himself to lose himself in the kiss for the last time, slightly pressing on (Y/n), but immediately overpowering himself, slowly pushed back from the girl, interrupting the kiss.

“I love you, (Y/n)” George quietly whispered right into (Y/n)’s lips, not yet ready to let her go.

“I love you more, George,” the girl babbled just as silently, feeling how the Weasley began to slowly sway to the rhythm of the song, dragging her along.

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now.

[the-remainder]

Greetings weary travelers, did you know, as a budding magus, Ilar has traveled across the Serpentine Coast and witnessed many bizarre and fantastic tales. On quiet afternoons, Ilar and Vyn would share some of Ilar's special blend of tea, freshly baked pastry, and tell a tale to each other. If you've donated to The Remainder on itch or ko-fi, you'll have access to the mini interactive fiction - Story And Tea with Ilar - where all these short stories can be read.

But we'd also like to reward people who've supported us in other ways by releasing some of these stories.

Here is the first in what we hope to be a series of such stories, as told by Ilar to Vyn.

Enjoy!

If you're not sure what I'm talking about, this is a bonus short story that takes place in the world of The Remainder, a dark fantasy visual novel, you can play Act 1 by clicking here.

Tale of the Fog Children

Part 1 of 3

Voices often came to me when I sat in inner silence and simply felt the Currents brushing against my heart. Most of them were only noise, shallow thoughts from shallow realms, the regret of something done, or bickering over garlic skin. But this one was different, it yearned fiercely, single-heartedly, as only a human being could, and yet it has a hollowness that no human being could have, not the least a child.

Curious, I went to a balcony on the upper tower and peered over the foggy shores to the South. A commotion was brewing in a village a few leagues away, nestled next to a Seamouth, a fogdune had barged into the huddle of houses and swallowed one of them. Peculiar, I thought, and bad news. I looked with closed eyes and saw the sense of longing waft from the fogdune.

A thick channel of Currents was carried by the cloudstream to the tower, teasing out memories of my home, of the smell of mud and chicken feed. There was something else in the undercurrents too defused to disentangle at this distance. It was no ordinary fogdune, the magus mentee of that village was out of their depth. I checked my schedule and saw that you would be in a ritual for another three days. I packed a few necessities and headed for the village.

Arriving, I found that everyone who dwelled there gave the fog-engulfed house a wide berth, and little wonder, the Currents gushing from it was debilitating. I felt the longing tinged with sorrow and desperation before I heard the faint sound of howling wind emanating from the fog despite the still air. The energy was so dense that it would’ve turned an undyed - a commoner with no magick training - into a sobbing heap within minutes of close contact. A little more and they'd do anything, anything to end that despair.

“Stay away, traveler!” Someone shouted to me from their yard. “Bad luck that, do ya no good to linger, ya hear?”

Striding toward them, I replied. “Where are the people who lived here?”

“Oy, the Milborns, sunken luck if it could be said o’ anyone. They’d be stayin’ over with the Ashborns there.” The leather-skinned man pointed with his mushroom hat.

“Bad luck, you say? What sort, if I may ask?”

The man stopped chewing his straw for a moment and studied me up and down, clicking his tongue.

“My, pardon me, you’re a magus, ain’t you?”

I nodded, saying. “Indeed, I sensed something afoot here and thought I might help. Now, tell me about this bad luck you mentioned.”

“Aye, real pitiable. First, one child, nary a babe, passes from the winds, then a scant few years later, the other one goes missin'.” He spits out the straw he was chewing and made a face as if it was bitter. “Born on a Howling Eve, they were, and there ain’t no helpin’ that.”

I listened, puffing on my pipe, recalling. “Howling Eve? Do you think the children were…”

“Aye, ‘twas the low ones, Luccasi, the temple mentee said as much. Howling over the skies all that night, lookin’ for souls to snatch. And the children? Twins, ya see? Was s’pposed to be just the one. But he was so scared of the sound that half of him tried to run back to the Waters from inside his mama’s womb, and done got split right in two.

That’s how they were born twins. Sickly, only enough Waters for the one life, forced to be two. Skin the color of mildew. Poor kids, the folks too, what’d they e’er do to deserve such a thing?” He shook his head.

I nodded again, thanked the man, and left for the Ashborn’s house. I’d heard enough to have a theory, and if I was right, there was no time to waste.

Thick incense filled the little room when a young man with hollow eyes and a scraggly goatee opened the door to my knocking.

“Who are you?” He asked stiffly.

“The name’s Ilar, Magus. Are you the Milborns?” I nodded to the young woman sitting next to a makeshift altar that she’d just been praying to, where incenses burned. I recognized the herb. “May I?”

He stepped back to allow me in. “Duma, and my wife Sestra. We don’t got much, you’ll have tea?”

I nodded and entered, sitting by the firepit. A cursory glance showed no Devarna present. I knew then… But they’d just lost another child. I needed to be direct, yet without touching upon an open wound. “Sorry to hear about your child, I’d like to help. When did he go missing?”

“A week ago. He was playing with the other kids along the shore over yonder.” Duma’s voice was hoarse. “One blink he was there, right? Then he was gone, just like that. We looked, depths, we looked everywhere, right?”

“I see. And how long have you been burning the Longing Leaves?”

The young man’s forehead wrinkled into a mass of grooves as he looked down.

He glanced at my magus’s mark nervously and said. “The mentee said we should use it, right? They said no more than three days, if that’s what yer getting at, but there couldn’t be no harm, right?” Sestra began to fidget visibly as he spoke.

With a soft but firm voice, I said. “Devarna of Longing are usually very effective, but after three days, they will have grown disenchanted with the herbs. Further use will net you no boon. If you don’t stop now, you risk attracting something else, something undesirable. Do you understand?”

Duma stiffened, hands gripping at his loose leggings, lips pursed. Sensing this, Sestra leaned over and gently laid a hand on his arm while looking at me with something akin to pleading in her eyes. She wanted to say something, I realized, but—

“What are we to do? Just give up? Our only child, that boy! The mentee said these would call him back, well where is he?” Duma was nearly shouting at me. His wife flinched. Truths were left unsaid, and a lie was told. Tides were unfavorable here, I decided.

I stood up slowly, went to the door, and said. “I’m not your enemy, and neither is that fogdune. It’s getting too dark to Work, I’ll make camp outside the village. By next dawn, I will have a plan.

I hope you’ll consider listening to me when the time comes if you want what’s best for your child.” I threw a glance at them, letting the Waters shine from my eyes, holding the woman’s gaze for the briefest of moments, then departed. That should be enough to let them sense my power, and hopefully for Sestra to take the hint.

I built a fire and erected a simple tent with twigs and mushroom cappings in a copse on the edge of the village and waited. I’d seen fogdunes behaving like this in my youth. Could it be the same thing that happened to me? Another of Fate’s jokes, I chuckled.

To be continued...

If you enjoyed this and want to read the rest without having to wait, please support us on itch.io or ko-fi.

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

Ghosts

Summary: You hack, that's what you do. Dying to do so freely, wasn't what you had expected. Meeting the weirdest fucking squad; losing the best part of you; falling for a thief : was not planned.

Pairing : Four/Billy (Ben Hardy) - You

A/N: The story goes through the all movie, so I suggest you watch it before reading.

I don't own any characters other than Eight.

English is not my native language, I'm trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Tried my best to match Ryan Reynold's level of sass aha

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

This is how you die.

"So you're the one who hacked the wrong guy" You swiftly turn around gasping at the sudden voice in your apartment

"Depends, you’re his hitman?" You were ready to run even if it means jumping by the window.

"Nooo, I'm an angel.” You snort at his sarcasm, unknown to you at this moment that he was full of it.

"Wanna disappear?" he asked taking a seat at the kitchen table eyeing your bags at the door.

"In a body bag? Slowly you make your way to the knives, just in case.

"You are a funny one, aren't you? I know the man you stole from, you won't get far until he got you. But, he emphasized, if you’re willing to do what's right.."

"I've already done my part for the flag." Assuming he was American by the way he talked.

"I'm not talking about shitty drug dealers. But evil war-lovers, genocide perpetrators, that kind of shitty so-called human. Those ones that are above the laws with governments' balls in their hands, ready to squish them.”

"That's gross" your brother appeared from the adjacent room. You let your mind consider the stranger’s offer as soon as you look at your confused brother, knowing he was in danger because of you.

“You two look at lot alike.” The guy leaned in, screwing his eyes at you both.

“We’re twin dumbass” your brother answered glancing at you wondering.

“What’s the deal?” you asked considering the offer

The guy smirked, “Well, to be short you die, and then you take down evil motherfuckers without governments’ backlash on you.” He tapped his fingers against the Formica table.

It took 5 minutes.

"One condition, my brother comes to!"

"What's he good at?" he crossed his arms.

"I can drive…Hold on what? Die? Who the fuck are you!?”

"Already too many questions” he rolled his eyes

"He's a hell of a driver, it got him under surveillance when he got chased by 6 police cars after an illegal race back in the States."

"So they caught up Muttley” the guy clucked his tongue

“Hey!”  

"No, you interfered almost ashamed, I told him to stop the car...I got motion sickness."

The guy erupted in laughter, you two watching him unamused.

_

“I’m more like Peter Perfect.”  Your brother mumbled as the guy left.

You look by the window discreetly, catching a glimpse of the guy mingling in the crowd. “You’re Muttley bro.”

A week later you got a text. The guy who called himself One had planned your fake death. A random trek in Italy’s mountains, an assumed fatal fall, no bodies recovered.

It was never supposed to be your life. But we all know nothing happens as it should.

Papà went to fight a war and disappeared, you were forced to move in America when you were 6.

Mammà never cope the loss of her motherland and husband. She died of a belated broken heart syndrome when you were 16. 

Both you and your brother were placed in a host family. It wasn’t a crappy family like it’s always the case in some tv show, they were nice and wealthy. The father was a tech engineer, somehow you took interest in his work and start learning to code, soon reading about hackers: white hats; black hats; “We are Legion”, you were hooked and skilled in a matter of time.

When you turned major though, things turned difficult, the host family had to let you go and Internal Affairs of your state caught you looking in their network. Which led to you working as a C.I for them, it was that or prison. Not thrilled by the idea but obliged to cooperate was your new motto.

Your brother had some job here and there but nothing steady, so money from the IA was welcome.

After a year and a half, I.A ditched you, it was rather good news in a way, they’ve erased your past mistakes but said they’d keep a distant eye on you.

So you moved on from your shithole that was the 1 bedroom apartment you and your brother shared and went to your parents’ hometown in Italy. Your brother was reluctant at first as he couldn’t even say hello in Italian, you taught him as your mamma had done it with you but he wasn’t that interested.

Working with people was not your forte, you were too bossy, so you got fired ... plenty of times: from a coffee shop, a rental bike shop and a tourist city tour bus thingy. So you started doing what you were good at, hacking for money, it went well for a few years, never being too greedy - until you hacked the wrong person and got in trouble.

That's how you became a Ghost and ended up in the middle of the California Desert.

_

One had built a squad. No names, only numbers to identify each other. Not calling your brother by his name was a challenge, same for him.

There were 7 of you.

One, the “boss”, a mysterious sassy billionaire who decided to fund his own strike team.

Two, a French blonde woman, pretty cold, a spy apparently

Three, a crazy hitman who couldn’t shut up

Four, a young parkour master and reformed thief

Five, a Doctor, but you heard she was actually working at a Dentist

Six, your brother, the annoying driver.

And then Eight, you, the Black Hat somehow becoming a hacktivist.

Why not Seven? Long story short, it was one more condition you’d submitted to One.

_

_SICILY

"Your focus determines your reality.”

“Oh for fuck's sake One, quit your Jedi bullshit!” you loosed your temper typing on your keyboard angrily. An entire week, an ENTIRE WEEK quoting Star Wars!

Four and Five laughed in the comm. One braced himself on the other end of the line. Three cut the heavy silence.

“Eight, Chiquita please stop yelling”

“I’m not a Chiquita stop saying that!”

“Ok ok chi…Eight, damn you’re stressful” 

“God, why do I have to team you up!!” One facepalm

“Now what?” Five asked

Radio silence

“Oh so now no one’s talking! What are you, 4?” One angrily called out to you 2.

“Yeah, uh high, literally.” Four answered One, you snorted.

“No ..  damn not you!”

“You called me Mate!” Four said offended

“No, shush – Eight are you done with the system?” he was about to lose it.

“I’ve been done with it the second Three called me Chiquita!” you crossed your arms in front of your laptop.

“Hey ..” “We’re not talking about that again!” One cut Three

“Can we get going now?” Two interfered, you heard her bike roaring.

“Finally, some sensed words.” One said wrapping it up.

Four entered the place you’d hacked the system of. Six and Two were not far in case of trouble.

“Four, the hard drive is in the main office. Second floor.” One enunciated, you followed Fours progression with the security cameras.

It was enlivening, stressful, but oh so exciting. When you worked with I.A you were never there when they’d go down in action, it was nothing but boring data researched and dealer’s MacBook.

“Freeze Four, guards coming east.” Switching cams you gave him a safe path.

“Ok, you’re clear. Now to your left, third door then turn right.”

Four got his hands on the hard drive containing all you needed to know about the next target.

“Well done.” One congratulated the team

“Thanks, thanks, It helps to have a sexy voice guiding you” Four chuckled, you blushed, sexy voice? is that even possible?

“Great, kid. Don’t get cocky.”

You rolled your eyes at the endless use of Star Wars' quotes.

“Hum that’s my sister, remember?” Six growled tightening the wheel

“Luke grab Solo, meet up in 15minutes at the hotel. Everyone move!” One instructed you smiled at the thought of being Leïa. Gosh, you were as much of a nerd as One.

Climbing down the jeep Three had rented, you laughed seeing your brother holding Four in an arm lock for a few seconds anyway, Four reversed the lock, pining your brother’s arms behind himself.

You passed by them “Easy with my twin please.” Four wasn’t releasing his hold so you stopped, turning back you lift an eyebrow at Four insisting he let him go.

“Oh!” he lifted his hands in defence taking a step back.

Grabbing your brother by the sleeves as he was about to jump on Four “Come on piccino” you made your way in the hotel laughing.

_ 

Your first big mission started a few weeks after, everyone gathered in The Haunted House as One called it, an old bunker, cheesy name for an HQ.

“You don’t get it, I need a CAR!”

“That’s a car, Six.” Three argued back.

“No that’s a heap, that thing won’t get us through the paved road of Italy, believe me.”

Four and Five were amused by the situation, Three had rent a truck and an old Volvo for this mission.

“Alright, shut up, we’ll get another car!” One declared, Six flicked to Three.

One resumed the mission’s details. Giving everyone their own missions. A simple mission, retrieve a lawyer’s smartphone.

In the midst of it, your hand flew to your brother’s head next to you. The smacked resonating between the walls of the unfinished bunker.

“Why ..why’d you hit him?” One asked confused, your brother was rubbing the back of his head frowning at you.

“Cain’s instinct.” You replied wriggling your fingers for him to continue. Four snorted, Six nudged him in the ribs.

In a few months, you had learned a lot from this weird squad. Learning to shoot was an obligation, Three was insane but a good teacher.

You’d asked Four to teach you some parkour in case of a chase. Six and Four became close friends in a matter of time. Five was nice, but you were never one to be good at making friends. Two was not a big talker and frankly, she scared you a little.

So you spend your free time hacking and reading, on the hammock installed between a dismantle plane and a dead tree. Not far from there you could hear Four skating in the empty pool and three at the makeshift shooting range.

Suddenly,

“EIGHT!”

Groaning you closed your book “WHAT!?

Your voice boomed against the caravan and lost itself in the desert, but you still hoped Four had heard. It was his thing, screaming your name instead of coming to you directly. At his silence, you wriggle out the hammock and strode to the pool.

“What’d you want skater boy?”

He was lying in the pool his board by his side. “Four?” you made your way to the ladder, “hey” you gently nudge him with your foot but he didn’t move.

“Four? you called out worried, “shit” knees hitting the vinyl liner checking if he was breathing, he wasn’t.

“Hey wake up, seriously dude don’t make me do CPR on you, I suck at it!” suddenly laughter erupted in your ears. Six appearing on the edge, Four chucked on the floor.

“Pranking you..he tried to breathe in, is always the best sis!” Six laughed even harder at your confused face. Still kneeling at Four’s side, he was looking at you laughing, until he wasn’t, catching a glimpse of worry melting with anger in your eyes.

Punching his left shoulder, you hurried out the pool. He stayed on the floor watching you go.

“Don’t make me do CPR I suck at it!” your brother was still laughing his brain's out.

_

“What was that?”

Four leaned on the dead tree near your head, his shadow offering some shade.

“A real bad joke?”

“No I mean, why’d you hit me?”

Sighing you clasped your book closed for the second time today “you really got me worried, happy?”

“No, you propped up on your elbow at his answer craning your head to him, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His warm hand slide in your hair at the base of your neck, he leaned in, letting you enough time to push him away if you wanted.

"Sorry" he whispered, his lips pressing in your temple gently, warmly for a few seconds. Catching yourself leaning in you almost fell off the swinging' hammock as he released his hold, he grinned and left not saying anything more.

"What the hell Four!!" you yelled at him, an ounce of laughter in your voice, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his own laughter filling the desert's silence.

FLORENCE

A/N: don't forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

[huntertales]

The whole cast of Supernatural is saying goodbye to the show rn and they tore down the bunker and oh my goodness I'm a wreck DANI I NEED A HUG (and some incorrect quotes)🥺

WHAT? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. In my head the bunker will always a place where I pretend it’s real. I’ve always loved that set. My heart hurts even more knowing that it’s really over. But I’ve got something to hopefully cheer us all up!! I was planning on finishing the current episode, oh well!

y/n: dean is so cute. sam: he just killed a demon that tried to kill you y/n: i said "cute", not "harmless".

y/n: you know, i bet my parents are actually really proud of what i’ve accomplished. I bet they’re looking up and smiling at me now. charlie: looking up? y/n: oh yeah, they’re in hell for sure. no doubt about it 

y/n: *banging his pencil on a table* dean: stop that. i can't concentrate. y/n: *keeps banging the pencil* dean, frustrated: can somebody help me out here?? cas: i got it. now y/n, how would you feel if dean banged you on a table? y/n: i- y/n: oh please do.

dean: hey, do you think i could fit fifteen marshmallows in my mouth? sam: you’re a hazard to society. y/n: and a coward. do twenty

y/n: why did the chicken cross the road? dean: i don’t know why? y/n: to get to the house of the dumbass y/n: knock, knock dean: who’s there? y/n: the chicken dean: liSTEN HERE YOU-

dean: i’ve done a lot of dumb stuff sam: i’ve witnessed the dumb stuff cas: i recorded the dumb stuff y/n: i’ve joined you in the dumb stuff josh: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF

y/n: okay, for this mission, i’m going to assign us all special codenames. you can address me as “eagle one.” sam, your codename is been there, done that.” sam: *look of worried confusion* y/n: dean is “currently doing that” Dean: *high fives the reader* y/n: josh is “it happened once in a dream” josh: *even more worried and confused* y/n: rowena is “if i had to pick a girl” rowena: *winks at the reader* y/n: and cas is… cas: y/n: y/n: eagle two cas: oh thank dad

y/n: i can’t go. stress is bad for the baby dean: what baby?? y/n: me

y/n: i’m craving something sweet :( dean, gesturing to himself: :) y/n: i said something sweet, not a heap of salt

y/n: what are you, five? sam: yeah, five heads taller than you y/n: sam: y/n: sam: please don’t kill me

cas: you’re like an angel with no wings y/n: ... so like a person?

john: y/n is at that special age when a girl has only one thing on her mind dean: boys? y/n: homicide

y/n: *holding sam’s hand over her stomach so he can feel one of the twins kick* sorry this is taking so long, they kicked for everyone else dean: it’s hard for the little guy to perform under pressure josh: top ten things dean said on his wedding night sam: woah! It was small, but I think I felt something! charlie: top ten things yn said on her wedding night y/n: *laughs* dean: stop laughing at it, y/n! y/n: top ten things you said on your wedding night dean: i want a divorce

sam: cas, you’re in charge. take y/n and dean cas: yes! my fantasy threesome sam: dean: y/n: cas: of people to go on a mission with

y/n: the quickest way to a man’s heart is through the fourth and fifth ribs

charlie, talking about the reader: she likes mysterious guys dean: okay *later* y/n: where are we going? dean: IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS

cas: if you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? josh: maybe a bit tipsy? sam: drunk y/n: wasted dean; dead

cas: *learning human etiquette* what are friends with benefits? y/n: ...a very special type of friends cas: um...like us? y/n: *chokes*

y/n: i have feelings for you dean: you do? y/n: yes. I feel you’re a little annoying

bartender, about dean: excuse me, is this man bothering you? y/n: yes. Yes he is, but he’s my husband so i pretty much signed up for this

john winchester and ella y/l/n: all we ever wanted to do was raise the children so they were safe bobby: you fucked up a perfectly good generation is what you did. look at them. they have trauma.

y/n: HYDRATE OR DIE-DREATE! y/n: *aggressively throws water bottles* sam: uh… cas: she’s trying to yell mental health and wellbeing at us dean: *crying* it’s working

dean: how do you politely tell someone you want to hit them with a brick?  y/n: one wishes to acquaint your facial features with a fundamental item used in building walls dean: that’s the most beautiful thing i have ever heard

y/n: ugh, i couldn’t sleep at all last night sam: you know, they say if if you can’t sleep it’s because someone is thinking of you y/n: who’d be thinking of me at 3 am?  dean: *sweats*

y/n: careful, if you keep being so sweet people are gonna start thinking you’re in love with me dean: what could i have ever possibly done, to make you think that i’m not?

[livesincerely]

...i'm intrigued by the idea of a story about right after they move into their apartment/are just getting settled.

Ooh yes!! So, like I said, this is the summer between senior year of college and freshman year of high school.

For Jack, the thing about the apartment is that it’s theirs. Like, yeah, it’s a year long lease, but this is the first place Jack has ever lived that he has any kind of control over—he and Davey go apartment hunting and there are actual options?? To choose from?? At first Davey has to coax the opinions out of him because Jack is fully prepared to settle for the first place in their price range that isn’t absolutely awful, because he’s just never had the luxury of being picky. For once in his life, Jack gets to decide if he prefers the place downtown close to the subway or the one that’s got a nicer kitchen but is a longer commute to campus, instead of having to make his peace with whatever and muster up some kind of gratitude that things aren’t worse (and Jack knows worse) because he doesn’t have any other choice.

So getting the apartment is kind of a huge deal.

Jack and Davey spend the five months between getting their accepted letters and moving working as much as possible. This money, plus their financial aid, scholarships, and the help they get from Davey’s parents and Ms. Medda, is what they use to pay for the apartment, furnishing it, and their utilities.

Jack also receives a sizable payout following his custody battle, equal to the amount of money the group home managers stole from the state instead of using it to take care of him, Race, and Charlie. It’s a lot of money. Jack sticks most of it into a savings account with Ms. Medda promising to help him learn how to manage and invest it at a later date—he wants Race and Charlie to have better than what he had. The rest he uses on things the three of them should’ve had but didn’t—decent clothes, plenty of food, toys and books and games for the boys, etc.

Moving is actually really easy, just because none of them really own anything besides Davey. Davey manages to fit everything into three boxes and a duffle bag and they’re moved in in less than an hour. The real labor in the process are the many, many trips Jack and Davey have to make to IKEA, Target, Bed Bath & Beyond, and the mall picking out furniture, bedding/linens, dishes and cookware, and new clothes for the three of them.

On the very first day, Jack makes a point of taking Race and Charlie with him to Home Depot to pick out a paint color for their bedroom. Technically it’s a violation of their lease but Jack doesn’t give a shit—Race and Charlie hardly ask for anything but they’ve asked for this, and Jack is gonna make damn sure they get it. What the housing office doesn’t know won’t hurt them.

But besides that, they mostly leave Race and Charlie to hang out with Les back home while they’re getting things settled because it’s just a bunch of hauling furniture up the stairs and bickering about how many towels they should get and do we really need a coffee table? What do you do with a coffee table??

There are also several trips to pickup things they found on eBay/Craigslist, one of which is in such a shady area that Davey is genuinely convinced that they’re about to get murdered picking up a secondhand couch, Jack, oh my god, that was definitely blood on the sidewalk, why did you bring me here— So it’s really for the best that they leave the boys at home.

“Loft beds?” Davey suggests, looking only a tad less overwhelmed than Jack feels as they take in the many, many options. “They’d take up less space.” Jack snorts. “Just make sure they have good railings, otherwise Racer will fall out of his and brain himself.” Jack starts to wander over towards a display with a twin sized bed that looks promising, but Davey’s hand on his elbow stops him mid-stride. “Um, actually, I was thinking we could get them something full or queen sized,” Davey says, though the upward inflection at the end makes it sound more like a question. “They’re a little young for that, ain’t they?” Jack asks. “We can always upgrade ‘em later.” “No, you’re right, it’s just...” Davey trails off, the faintest trace of a blush creeping across his face. Jack stays quiet, waiting him out, and after a moment he continues with, “I just thought it’d be nice to get them something larger now, something they can grow into.” He glances at Jack briefly, as if assessing his reaction, then his eyes dart away again. “We’ll be here for four years: this could be an investment... for the future.” Jack feels something spark in his chest, so bright and so warm it feels like nothing could ever snuff it out. “Yeah, okay,” he says roughly. “Let’s put down some roots.”

Ooh, maybe I’ll shoehorn in a scene where some of their furniture didn’t arrive on time/they’re exhausted and don’t feel like dragging the second mattress out of the truck so they just collapse into a heap together on a single mattress, just because it’s me and why not?

I didn’t make it to the preparing to start school stuff, but I think this is a good place to leave it. Hope this was interesting!! 😊

00000

@agentsnickers

[whatname0523]

I'm gonna join in on the rh/lotw blasts from the past haha. How did c and t spend their first christmas and new years?

They spent their first Christmas at Big Bear with the Press Pack. I started part of a Christmas fic that included it. 

If you are curious:

Christen has always loved the sensation of Tobin’s eyelashes brushing against her skin anytime they’re close together. 

The way they flutter along her cheekbone when Tobin angles her head to press a kiss to her wife’s lips, or the way they tickle her ear when Tobin leans in to whisper an I Love You for only Christen to hear; Or how they flit lightly against her own eyelashes when they rest their foreheads together while they slow dance in the kitchen after dinner. 

It’s a small feeling that she associates with Tobin’s love; with being loved more than she could ever have imagined.

It’s the sensation that’s waking her now as her body is tangled with Tobin’s under the covers, their legs intertwined as Tobin’s arms are around her waist and holding her close.

Of course, they didn’t have much room to spare in the small twin bed they were currently sharing, after falling asleep together last night when they’d gotten home from the bar and were absolutely unwilling to be away from each other, leaving the other twin bed in the room empty in favor of warm cuddles and mostly tame kisses.  

A minute ago, Christen had burrowed her head a little further into the single pillow underneath their heads without even realizing she was awake and that’s when her face angled just perfectly under Tobin’s so that her wife’s long eyelashes were now grazing her forehead as she breathed softly in sleep. 

The feeling pulled Christen a little more towards consciousness and she couldn’t help but want more contact from it. Almost as an intuitive reaction. 

Without even opening her eyes, Christen slowly slid her hands under Tobin’s t-shirt and rested them on her abs before she pulled her wife even closer into her body, even though they were practically flush together already. 

Christen’s searching hands along with the bright morning sun that was shining into the room from the skylight above the bed caused Tobin to stir as well. 

She rolled over so she was half on top of Christen with a sleepy smile on her face, nuzzling into Christen’s neck like she wasn’t quite ready to be awake yet. 

Christen wasn’t either, and the warmth they’d created under the heap of blankets covering them was feeling like the perfect little predicament, even though they could hear people awake outside their bedroom door. 

Their bedroom door which was so inconveniently just off the kitchen in the cabin they were renting for the weekend in Big Bear. 

Christen’s mom and dad, her sisters, and both of their husbands, and she and Tobin. 

In a three bedroom condo right on the side of Bear Mountain, so they could ski in and out all day long when they weren’t opening presents and over-eating all the Christmas goodies they’d brought along.

It was a cute idea until they got there and realized just how cozy their little winter homestead actually was; as all three sisters lightly argued over who had to share a room, since it clearly wasn’t going to be Cody and Stacy.

Tobin and Christen ‘compromised’ and took the smallest room at the front of the house, with just the two twin beds, so that Tyler and Channing could share the loft upstairs with the two queen beds and actually have room to sleep next to their husbands. 

Little did they know that Tobin and Christen still preferred to practically sleep on top of each other after only five months of marriage, and having their own room was sort of a win.

Or it would have been, had the kitchen not been right there.

As soon as Tobin was awake, her hands started to wander too, just like they did most mornings before either of them were ready to get out of bed for the day.

A warm hand slowly grazed across Christen’s stomach as they both laid there with their eyes closed and smiles forming on their faces, falling into the easy morning loving they found themselves in more often than not, when their world was still quiet and peaceful. 

It only took a minute for Tobin’s hand to slowly make its way down Christen’s abdomen until she slid it under the waistband of Christen’s loose sweatpants that she’d worn to bed, while Christen let out the softest, sleepiest moan in happiness.

Tobin smiled more as Christen opened her legs just slightly, inviting Tobin’s gentle but purposeful fingers to continue on the path that they knew so well.

Tobin’s hand dipped into Christen’s sweatpants and her finger easily made one pass through Christen’s warmth, thanks to the fact that her wife had foregone underwear as she drunkenly pulled on the sweats a few hours ago after getting home from the bar. 

Christen angled her head to the left until it was pressed against Tobin’s ear and then smiled through a whisper. “Mmm, that feels nice.”

Tobin was about to do the same motion again until there was a knock on their bedroom door before it opened quickly, much to their surprise. 

Luckily the blankets were still covering them both completely as Tobin swallowed a groan and pulled her hand back out of Christen’s sweatpants. 

“Tobs?” 

Will’s voice was meant to be quiet but he wasn’t doing a very good job with it as he whisper-shouted across the room. 

Tobin cleared her throat and lifted her head just enough to look at him, her voice still thick with sleep and desire. 

“Yeah?”

“Chair lifts turn on in ten and we gotta be the first ones down the mountain. Get up, dude.” Will requested excitedly. 

Tobin dropped her head back to the pillow in disappointment. 

“Will! Go away!” Christen yelled urgently, pretending to be annoyed, until her brother-in-law laughed. 

“I’m going.” He whispered a little quieter this time. “I’ll wait for you outside, Tobin.”

Will pulled the door shut again as Tobin looked over at Christen with a knowing smile. 

“This is why I told you not to promise him you’d be up bright and early to snowboard last night.” 

Christen shook her head but was smiling too as she thought about their animated walk home from the bar down the road last night, where Tobin and Will shouted excitedly about how amped they were to be in the mountains and how they couldn’t wait to hit the fresh powder first thing in the morning. 

“I was a little drunk when I said that.” Tobin chuckled, still speaking quietly. “But babe, we are at a ski resort, we might as well make the most of it.”

“I’ll be enjoying a cup of coffee by the fireplace for the next hour.” Christen shook her head as she rolled onto her side and away from her wife, feeling Tobin’s hand softly drop off of her hip and back to the bed as she did. 

Tobin sat up and moved to climb out of bed before she paused and then leaned down until her face was right in front of Christen’s again.

She puckered her lips until Christen couldn’t help but lift her head and place a kiss to them, more out of habit than anything.  

“Good morning.” Christen murmured as they pulled back from each other. 

“Morning.” Tobin grinned happily. 

They held eye contact for a moment until Tobin hummed softly, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Christen’s eyes lit up like she had momentarily forgotten what day it was and then her smile was as bright as ever. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

[etlunainmorte]

❄❄❄

***

*Old - Fashioned Peanut - Butter Cookies*

*Ingredients

2 cups creamy peanut butter ( not the all - natural variety )

1½ cups granulated sugar

½ cup packed light brown sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

½ teaspoon kosher salt

*How to Make It

Step 1

Heat oven to 350° F.

Step 2

Using an electric mixer, beat the peanut butter and sugars on medium - high speed until fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Reduce speed to low and beat in the eggs, baking soda, vanilla, and salt.

Step 3

Roll heaping tablespoonfuls of the dough into balls and place on parchment - lined baking sheets, spacing them 2 inches apart. With a lightly floured fork, press the dough to a ⅜ - inch thickness, making a crisscross pattern on top of each cookie.

Step 4

Bake, rotating the baking sheets halfway through, until the edges are set, 10 to 12 minutes. Cool slightly on the baking sheets, then transfer to wire racks to cool completely. Store the cookies in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days.

***

❄ Three Wishes ❄

***

II

***

You were blissfully unaware of this but, V prepared for your very first date the entire night before the big day that he almost drove Griffon to sheer insanity.

Picking out clothes and accessories for him and teaching him stuff he, more or less, already knew regarding the opposite gender, the bird worked hard to the bone just to make his master look good in front of you. He wanted his master to give a nice first impression, after all.

But, then again, since V started living separately from Dante and Vergil for a month ( the younger brother always made him clean the eternally messy shop, while the older twin and him knew each other too well to the point of awkwardness and, sometimes, hostility ), he only managed to buy a few pieces of clothing with the money he has earned as an independent Devil Hunter. Meaning, there wasn't too much clothing to choose from in the first place. Well, at least right then. He could earn money faster than his two bickering brothers, anyway, and he has proven it more than a decent amount of times already.

So, he has no other choice but to go along with a decent and smart casual wear, which consisted of a simple white button down shirt, black pants, and a pair of black boots ( with the extremely cold weather going ballistic on his thin and bony frame, he has to set aside the sandals for a while ). Completing his look with a knitted pullover and a black parka, he made his way towards your house, which was not really that far, since he now practically lived next to you.

Approximately five minutes before eight in the morning, V was sitting there on the sofa, waiting for you to come down. And when you finally did, boy, was he really surprised. Clad in a light - colored coat worn over a gingham dress, black leggings, and a pair of boots, you looked truly lovely in V's eyes.

You smiled brightly as V greeted you, and after receiving something from your loving grandmother that she made, herself, you two finally took off.

*

The Red Grave shopping district, despite the cold weather, was packed with people of all ages. Children, teens, and adults, each and everyone of them walked about the place, going to different boutiques, eating at restaurants, or just simply looking around. And most of them were already buying Christmas presents.

V had different plans for you, however. He bought tickets to that latest installment of a long - running space opera saga, after all, which, he rightfully thought, was one of your favorite movie genres. Now, you found this completely normal, since movies like that were really in demand as of the moment. What really surprised you was the quality of tickets he bought for the two of you.

"Umm, V, Star Wars is that way." You gently reminded him after grabbing your popcorn, jelly beans, and (F/F) frappe from the snack bar.

V only smiled at you. "I know, dear." He told you as he guided you towards the opposite direction were lesser people were going: the Director's Club, of all places.

Director's Club?! You thought hysterically. But, tickets there are way too expensive!

And he was totally not kidding around! You were going to watch Star Wars there!

"This,... is unreal,..." You gasped in wonder as you finally entered the prestigious theatre house and took a seat in one of the lounge chairs that has the perfect distance from the huge screen. Since few people could afford tickets to the Director's Club, the place, itself, was refreshingly calm. And it was perfect.

"Hmm?" V hummed in question as he settled down next to you and wore his 3D glasses.

You shook your head and gave him a smile. "Nothing."

The movie, itself, was wonderful. You smiled at the little jokes, became emotional at the drama, and gasped at the wonderfully choreographed fight scenes between the heroine and the villain. It was,... very good,...

... however, for the third time since the movie started, you heard that weird noise coming from your left side as if something huge was just pumped out of a clogged drain. The noise was not that loud, actually, but the quietness around you made it seem like it was really loud in your ears. And so, you made the wrong decision to turn and,...

V's eyes widened as he felt something soft and warm cling to his left arm, and he was surprised to see you looking up at him with a worried look on your face.

"V," you whispered. " ... someone is,... s - someone,... they're,..."

The poet furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he followed your line of sight, and when he finally saw what you were talking about, a soft curse escaped his lips.

For there, on your left, were two young lovers shamelessly kissing and totally ignoring the movie.

V clicked his tongue in annoyance. These young people,...

"Dear, can we switch places?" V asked, and a few moments later, as the teen lovers were still doing their thing, they were startled when something forcefully dropped right in front of them. "Apologies." The poet said with a sadistic smile, his left hand firmly holding the cane that startled them, his eyes still focused on the screen. "My hand,... slipped."

You were still laughing about it an hour later after the movie wrapped as you recalled how the teen couple reacted ( they scrambled away from V and out of the cinema in utter fear of the tattooed poet ). And V? He seriously breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing that your experience to your first movie with him was not entirely ruined because of them. For, if it did, only God or the Devil knows what he will do to them,...

After the cinema, he brought you to a restaurant to have lunch. Then, when you still have enough time, you asked V to accompany you to the Music Store to buy something.

And all throughout your quality time with him, you were not aware of the eyes that were observing you and V from afar,...

"Ah, I've been looking all over for this!" You happily exclaimed as you took out the piece of Mozart's Ah Vous Dirai - je, Maman from your shopping bag. "Thank you so much for going with me, V."

"No," the poet answered with a gentle smile as he twirled his metal cane. " ... thank you,... for indulging my,... little,... request."

Once again, you felt yourself blushing before the man and slightly turned away. Why does he always make you feel that way?!

Before you could embarrass yourself even further, you took out the thing that your grandmother gave you. It was a jar of peanut butter cookies that she baked, herself.

"This is for you." You told him with a shy smile as you handed him the jar of homemade cookies. "Gran told me to give it to you. I hope you like it."

"Why, thank you so much." V answered graciously. "And I'm sure I will! Would you mind if I take a bite now?"

"Oh, of course, not! Go ahead."

Feeling excited upon receiving something homemade for the first time ever, V eagerly opened the jar and took one cookie, its wonderful aroma filling his nostrils.

However, before he could even take a single bite, someone scoffed from behind him. You and V turned and saw, to your utter shock,...

"How awfully domestic is that?!"

***

❄ @la-vita , @clevermentalitybeliever , and @birdgirl69 . ❄

***

P.S. Let me know if you want to be tagged for the latest chapters.😁😁😁

***

❄❄❄

***

[dk-s]

yepp!! i'm indian :) and i can relate :/ i am very guilty of not having run/work out that much since track got cancelled 😔 but i'm trying to get back into it !!

yeahh i'm american (🤢) summer starts in june and ends in september! but for uni we get a longer break for summer & longer winter/spring breaks as well so i'm def looking forward to that haha.. uni apps are very stressful, but once i submitted the first few, momentum just.pushed me thru submitting the rest!! you can do it!! i'm rooting for you <33

ohh 🥺 that seems so fun!! ancient history is so fascinating to me, but i never got to study it much in school so i wanna see if i can try and take like a basic class in uni as a history credit!! +my parents want me to go into medicine too, but i think even if they didn't want me to, that's what i would choose anyway yk?? before pandemic, i was volunteering at the hospital near my house in the pediatric wing and 🥺 kids are so cute 🥺 it was so fun i miss it :(( but i'm sorry about your parents :(( you have time to figure out what you wanna do tho, so i'm sure you will figure it out and be ok!!

yeah!! when i first got my license i would just drive around randomly to get used to being by myself, and now i just have to keep practicing to get more comfortable !!

ohhh yeah i have heard that abt his writing before! and 💔 it makes me sad thinking about all of the characters that will die 💔 i'm looking forward to it though !!! hopefully school will stop being hard for a second for me to read it! i am in grade 12!!! everyone says grade 12 is supposed to easy but i'm suffering why 😔

ohhh relate,,, plenty of times we'll be driving home from parties and my parents are just spilling all of the drama between our extended family thinking my brother and i are asleep in the back

oh i definitely have a vitamin d deficiency even if i go outside in the summer, i always wear long sleeves/pants so now i take supplements.. :/

and omg ur australian??? that's so cool!! idk why i didn't figure that when you said school was nearly over for you lol it took me a second. + for some reason, whenever i see that someone is australian, i always think of felix and chan from skz bc i love them 🥺

this ask is so so so long im so sorry pls forgive 🥺 but please have a wonderful rest of your day!! i love talking to you too 🥰 -age twin anon

omg that’s fine!! idm its long!! i love talking to u <3 and yess im so proud of u getting back into track woo!!! get fit!!! i might do some exercise indoors during the holidays 😳

and wow!! u get longer winter breaks?! lucky because ours are so short but our summer one is heaps longer! esp this year because the rest of the school ends near the end of december but as year elevens we end next week so i get an extra three weeks!! hopefully that’ll give the holidays for me to think about universities n figure how i can make myself sound good on an application 🤠

fr tho! history is so so interesting n i have an option at the start of y12 to take a small university course for a few weeks n i chose this topic called legacies of an empire where we study the effect of imperialism n it focuses on india/pakistan so its like *clenches fist* white people!!

and yes!! children are so cute n i would wanna work w them like in my city we have a new state of the art children’s hospital and its so massive n clean and its so organised and i love the different departments n i’d love to work in genetics or endocrinology!!

and about driving! i’d love to just drive around n listen to music but i also know i dont trust myself that much because a song would come on n i’d prob drop the wheel to do the choreo!!

and yea i would warn against getting attached to a tolkien character but its so worth the read!! our teachers do warn us that y12 is hard!! n i’ve gotten my textbooks already so i plan to get a bit ahead in the holidays so im not utterly confused in physics next year 😶

and like!! when my parents are on the phone w relatives im listening so i can learn the tea 😌 same!! i dont really wear shorter things so im not getting that sweet sweet sunshine!! and yep!! im australian and ngl i feel more national pride in bangchan n felix than i do from any other australian mascot or politician on the world stage, because like our pm? nah. bangchan n felix? kings!! 

i hope u have an amazing day bb!!!

[septimusheapheadcanons]

Hey, this is a question for whenever you feel like it and have the time, but I'm curious what you think of each of the Heap's canon SO and why or why not you ship them?

this is gonna be me gushing a lot, but also kinda salty so be warned

Simon: Lucy. I love Lucy!!! She’s one of my faves. She’s so… atypical for a character in a book series, especially as one of the main “star crossed lovers”. She’s loving, strong, persistent, steadfast, strong-willed. But she’s also loud, nosy, overweight, stubborn, in-your-face, angry, and, most importantly to me, ugly. Lucy is not typically beautiful or soft or feminine, but she’s still the main love interest!! And even though she’s not typically feminine, she still likes things like pretty ribbons and silky cloaks and cute boys, which are traditionally feminine. She’s allowed to be complex, and have this strong dichotomy with both her personality and her role in the story. And!! She grows!! In my reread something I noticed and really appreciate is the arc that Lucy goes through. It’s easy to see how she saves Simon, but she matures so much on her journey. She comes to appreciate what she has, but also trying to do better for herself. She learns to (somewhat) keep a cap on her temper when she needs to, she becomes kinder to strangers, she tries really, really hard to be a good person. And it’s so good!! She makes friends, weathers hardships, lives on her own, helps pull herself and Simon up by their bootstraps. G O D  I love her so much!! And her and Simon together??? Incredible!! She is so important in his arc, and y’all know how much I love him. They’re both so… weird. They’re kind of outcasts, they have their issues, and they never once falter on their love for each other!! Never once does Lucy think of abandoning Simon despite everything. Never once does Simon see Lucy as anything other than an angel. When he thought she left him, he wasn’t even angry with her!! He was angry with himself for not being better for her!! I love crying about them!! And like, with Lucy being kind of ugly, this becomes so much more important!! When Lucy comes out in her god-awful wedding dress, everyone’s like “oh wow, that’s kind of ugly.” But Simon!! Thinks she looks incredible and loves it because she made it herself!! Could your OTP ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sam: Marwick. G o d  I love Wolf Boy. I love him!! I always knew I liked him but my love for him has skyrocketed during my reread!! He’s… so incredible, and I’m a little mentally tired after that Lucy analysis so I won’t go into why I love him so much right now (maybe another time if y’all wanna know). And Samwick!! OK, so I only have 2 problems with Samwick, and neither makes me not ship them. The first is the whole thing about Keepers not getting married, which I wanna do a separate post about sometime soon, so I’ll leave it there. The second is the age gap. But, like Septyrah, it??? Doesn’t seem to really exist in the world??? Like, Sam is 7 years older than Marwick, but I’m pretty sure canon ages mean Absolutely Nothing to Angie Sage. And they’re both adults in Sandrider, so I’m cool with it, but I still think it’s kind of odd. Angie, why are you like this. B U T!!! They’re so cute!! Talk about a #battlecouple. They’re so nature-y and wild and intense, and they travel the world together?? Talk about #goals. Sam almost dying is like, my favorite part of Sandrider!! And the way Marwick is so sweet and trying to be calm and helpful?? 10/10

Edd: no canon S/O. (I ship him with Moira Mole for no real in-text reason, but as they both have like, no canon personalities or S/Os I’m allowed to!!)

Erik: no canon S/O. OK, so I headcanon Erik as a HUGE flirt who dates/hooks up with a lot of girls. BUT!! I also headcanon that when he meets the girl who will eventually be his wife, he’s stunned!! He’s still a smooth charmer, but he loves this girl like a little puppy, and he’s so intent on taking it seriously. He knows after like, 2 weeks that he wants to marry her, but they date for a while and he’s so happy!! He has no trouble transitioning from player to ready-to-wed. At first he has a bit of trouble not flirting with everyone on instinct before he realizes His Girlfriend also does that and they laugh and use flirting to get what they want, and never ever once worry about the other not being faithful. Then they have like 6 kids (first 2 are a set of twin girls). And it’s good!!

JoJo: Marissa. S i g h. I… have so many mixed feelings about Marissa and Jorissa. On the one hand, it’s so interesting, because they’re so fucked up. But also…?? Their canon state makes me so M A D!! I’m sure I’ve ranted about it somewhere if you look in the “Starchaser,” “JoJo Heap,” or “Marissa Lane” tags. So I can like, vibe with it I guess, but I would have to do a lot of work before I was okay with them canonly ending up together. Like, a multi-chapter Jorissa fic is something I eventually wanna do, working on how I want to make them work. But I love JoJo and Marissa does NOT treat him well!! So… IDK. It’s real complicated.

Nicko: Snorri. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The original childhood OTP, my dudes. I was so sad (and angry) in Fyre when Snorri left and they broke up. Like, nooooo!!!! My heart was broken!! So when they got back together pre-Pathfinder, I nearly lost my mind. They’re both adventurous, a little snarky boat people!! And Snorri jumped into the past for him and his fam?? And he stayed in the past with her just so she wouldn’t be lost alone!! And the way they’re both changed after the House of Foryx. They went through so much together!! I love them!! And I love Snorri!! She’s really cute. The scene where she meets Jenna and Wolf Boy, and she just keeps laughing about the ever-growing number of Heap brothers?? She’s so deadset on establishing herself as her own person, but it’s not until she goes on her own journey that she realizes she was still just following in her father’s footsteps. And she does get her own journey, and also learns to appreciate her mom!! And she can see ghosts?????? I love her!!!!!!!!!!

Jenna: Beetle. Sheesh, okay, this is where it gets a little messy, but until Sage puts in writing that these two broke up and makes S/e//p/J//e/n// canon, I won’t accept it!! Even then I won’t, but still. A N Y W A Y, Beetle is such a great character. I did a bit of an analysis on his inferiority complex compared to Sep here, but besides that he’s?? Such a huge loser nerd and I love him. He loves so completely, he strives to do what’s right, he’s so genuinely interested in things!! And his crush on Jenna is one of the cutest parts of the series, 10/10. And how do I even describe Jeetle. Two cinnamon rolls who love to have fun and help people fall in love and proceed to spread joy and love and sometimes salt throughout the kingdom. They’d fight anyone for the other. I love them.

Septimus: no canon S/O. OK, so Starchaser kinda implies that he and Driffa are gonna date, but even Angie has said no way that’s gonna last lmao. #Let SepDateSyrah2k17.