#i wish i never met you cathy

[moonmeg]

"Goodbye" (one-shot)

Silvia adjusted her husband's cravat and straightened out the collar of his black coat.

She looked up to his face. Andrew's head hung low. His eyes looked almost closed as he stared holes into the wooden floor. In all their years together, Silvia had never seen her usually so upbeat and joyful husband in such genuine sorrow. She frowned, as she brushed a strand of loose grey hair out of his face. The last time he wore his hair braided was almost three years ago. That was for a much happier occasion though: Catherine and Caleb's wedding.

Silvia cupped her husband's face in reassurance. He finally met her eyes.

Hers were in just as much pain as his were though. Pain he had never seen in them before. He placed his hand on her's before his eyes and face fell again.

"It's not fair.", he managed to finally break the silence.

"I know it isn't."

He fastened his grip on her hand.

"He was still so young. Had his life before him. He'll never get to live it now."

Silvia tightened her lips and furrowed her brows more than already, sharing the pain Andrew felt.

In just about an hour they would bury him. They'd see the coffin lowered down into the soil. They'd cover it with soil and fill the hole in the earth again. They'd never see him again. Only his tombstone.

Caleb's death had put a halt on the Clawthorne household. That the young blond man was dead, hasn't truly settled in yet. It seemed it never would.

"Andy", Silvia whispered when she noticed tears forming in his eyes.

"A part of me was taken from me. Unnecessarily and senselessly taken from me. From us.", his voice got louder. A little anger shimmering through it.

"I know he was not mine. Not of my blood.", he paused and brushed his thumb over the back of Silvia's hand, trembling a little, "But Titan damn it I loved him like a son!"

Andrew let out a sob. He felt her thumb catching and wiping the tears that he was no longer able to hold back shortly after.

"I know you did. He was part of our family. Not by blood but by heart. He was our son by heart.".

Silvia brought Andrew's hands to her chest, just above her heart. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles and tried her best to comfort her husband.

"And Cathy...", his voice started trembling now, "my poor little girl.".

"She loved him so much.", Silvia softly whispered.

"He made her happy. That's what matters to me most. She was happy. So happy.", he tightly smiled but was still unable to look Silvia in the eyes. His hurt smile disappeared again quickly. "She'll never be this happy again. Never."

Silence. For a short while there was nothing but silence as the couple stood in the room, held hands and desperately tried to find comfort in the other. However four cold hands could give warmth and comfort.

This was pain they never thought to go through. And how do you handle a death so sudden? Nobody prepares you for it. There's no words for it. Nothing to say, nothing to do. It's emptiness. Nothing more and nothing less.

"We should get going.", Silvia said.

Andrew slowly nodded. He let go of her hands and sniffed as he dried his eyes.

"I'll let Cathy know.", she added before she stepped out of the room and walked across the floor to Catherine's room.

The carvings Cathy decorated her door with many years ago, as always, caught Silvia's attention. Those were carefree days.

Carefree days Silvia wished to have again.

She inhaled deeply and knocked on the door.

"Cathy?", she opened the door to peek inside. Her daughter was lying in bed, with her back to the door. It broke Silvia's heart that Catherine couldn't come along to say her final goodbyes to Caleb. The healers had recommended she rather stay in bed and best not be introduced to a trigger of grief such as a burial. Catherine was weakened. That was the side effect of a pregnancy anyway, but since Catherine was in such a state of mind and heart after Caleb's death, she was even weaker.

"Sweet pea, we're going now.", Silvia informed. Without a response.

A bit worried about her daughter and her well being she asked if everything was alright?

"Fine. The baby's just making a fuss.", Cathy mumbled, shifting her legs a little. With soft strokes over her round belly, she tried to calm the overly active baby down.

"I see. Do you need anything else before we go?"

"No."

"If there is anything send off Opal, Agnes or Beryl for us and we'll be right back.", Silvia urged. The baby wasn't due for another few weeks but the fear it may be born any day now after everything that has happened was there. It gave Silvia at least a little peace of mind to know their palismen are with Catherine.

"Mhm."

Silvia wanted to say something more but didn't know what words she could share to change anything about Cathy being this apathetic. Instead, she just let her know that they won't be gone for long and added a reminder that Catherine is loved.

Catherine heard the door close with a tap. She stared outside the window, into the cloudy blue-grey sky. Emotionless and without much thought. The bubbles in her stomach didn't calm. The baby had been constantly moving around and kicking these past days but tonight it was worse than ever. It cost her sleep.

As the clouds slowly passed by and the baby restlessly kicked, she fiddled with the ring she wore around her neck. She was tired. She was hurt. She was numb. But she had no more tears left to cry.

Friends of the Clawthornes expressed their condolences, gave words of comfort, wished them strength and threw certain mourning flowers into the pit. Over time the crowd of people dressed in black grew smaller and smaller until only Silvia and Andrew remained.

They stood there. Stoic and silent, staring at the flower-covered coffin in the soil.

Andrew reached into his pocket with a shaking hand, pulling out the small wooden Lunaris Cathy had carved as a symbol of love and admiration for Caleb.

He looked at it for a while. He hesitated to do what his daughter had asked of him but slowly gathered his strength for it. And so, he stretched his arm out, above the grave, and let go.

"Goodbye, my son.", he managed before falling to his knees and letting out a cry in agony. Silvia lowered herself to the ground to embrace Andrew, holding him tightly. Mourning with him.

[1cat200]

Rottmnt au: Your past and our future collide - Chapter 1 - Wild night

It's been almost a year since the krang invasion, and the streets of New York city have never been more peaceful.

Until....

"COWABUNGA!!!!!" shouted Makoto from the top of his lungs.

Makoto, Casey, Leo, Donnie, Raph, Mikey and Cathy were on patrol until Makoto (Cathy and her boyfriend Tanjiro Takahashi's future son) got a bit too excited exited about getting pizza at Run of the mill.

Ever since arriving to the past,Makoto has been a ball of exited curiosity, checking out ever side of the streets and eating everything containing sugar.

His cousin Casey Jones (Cassandra's son) chased after him along with the rest of the Hamato's.

"Makoto Takahashi Hamato, you get back here this very instant! The pizza is NOT going to grow legs and run off!" Cathy called back at Makoto. But that didn't stop Makoto from doing what he did best. Running.

Makoto was a 16 year old trans boy with short dark brown hair, green eyes, prosthetic right leg and white skin tone. Makoto looked pretty much like an average teenage boy besides having a tiger tail and tiger ears from his mother's side of genes.

It had been only a few months since the turtles introduced Cathy to her son from an apocalyptic timeline and at first Cathy thought that her own brothers were playing a cheeky prank on her but after a lot of evidence, Cathy started to coddle Makoto as if he were a traumatized 3 year old. And Tanjiro wasn't much help considering he became a very protective father when he found out about Makoto.

Makoto didn't mind it much but sometimes he wished that his parents wouldn't treat him like a kid. For God sake he was 16 not 6. But he was grateful that he wasn't alone in this new timeline,after all he did have his best friend/cousin Casey. Those two were like two peas in a pod ever since they were little.

Eventually Cathy shot Leo with her new classic "be a responsible uncle and teach my son to behave you moron" look and Leo was forced to portal the future hybrid teen back to them which did not sit well for Makoto.

"UUUUUUURRRRRRGH!!!! MOM! WHY!?" Makoto groaned heavily.

Cathy rolled her eyes at her son and prepared to give the boy the lecture of a hundred generations. "Now you listen here young man! Just because by absolute miracle you survived a literal apocalypse, doesn't mean you are any less of a child! You are still legally my son and as your mother it is MY responsibility to make sure that you are safe! Now we are going to WALK SLOWLY instead of running about to Run of the mill like civilised citizens of America!" .

Makoto groaned in clear annoyance and looked at Casey for help but all Casey could do was shrug miserably. Casey knew better then to argue with Auntie Cathy. Especially since in the future, Cathy was know by the resistance not to be messed with and can and will be prove that if anyone tried to mess with her.

Makoto glared disappointingly at Casey before standing up and walking by his mother's side along with his uncles.

Makoto knew perfectly well that Leo, Donnie, Raph and Mikey were not yet his uncles in this world but he still liked to call them his uncles. It made him feel like they were less like strangers and more like his old family.

Leo walked next to Cathy and whispered into her ear, "don't you think your being a bit over protective of Makoto, Cat?". Cathy looked back at Leo and tilted her head in utter confusion. "What do you mean Leon?".

"Sis, your coddling Makoto too much ever since you've met him. You force him to go to bed at 9 pm, you tell him to eat his vegetables first before he eats ice cream, you don't let him go on any missions unless he's with either you or Tanjiro and you tell him that swearing is inappropriate even if your the on who swears first!" Leo pointed out to Cathy who was a bit dumbfounded and surprised by Leo's point of view.

Cathy let out a long sigh. "Look, I know I'm a bit.......defensive when it comes to Makoto, but seriously Leo. He's a boy with PTSD and still has traumatic nightmares almost every night. I'm just......" Cathy paused for a bit before continuing. "I'm just trying to make up for the times I failed to be there for him as his mother".

Leo put a hand on his sister's shoulder and looked at her in the eye,clearly understanding Cathy's point of view. "I get it sis. The whole alien invasion situation thing hasn't been easy for any of us. Donnie stays in his room doing who knows what kind of experiments in his lab half the time,Mikey pours all his feelings out in his art while trying to put a smile on his face for the family,Raph sometimes hates looking at his reflection on the mirror from.......you know what and Casey still sees in me as his legendary mentor/father figure. I get that you just trying to act like a mom for Makoto's sake but don't forget, both of you are 16 so,try not to treat him like he's 4 years old all the time ok Cat?

Cathy smiled and hugged Leo tightly. "Thanks bro."

Leo smiled back at his sister and hugged her back. "Anything for my fav triplet sister!"

Donnie gave Leo a bored eye roll before stating out "She's our ONLY triplet sister, dum dum."

"Whateves Dontron!" smirked Leo.

The Mad dogs continued walking towards Run of the mill. The air giving them a sense of tranquillity. The night was peaceful. Not a single scene of crime to be seen.

Run of the mill was now only two blocks away. The mad dogs were all looking forward to a calm night out eating pizza. Everything was looking great so far. Until Mikey started getting a strange feeling. It was like he felt a fire in his chest that just cleared away. But it felt.......mystical. Just like after he opened the portal into the prison dimension.

That was soon followed by a wave of electrical shock that spread throughout Mikey's body and a loud crash that came from a nearby ally.

The teens turned around, facing the ally where the sound of the crash took place, weapons out and adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Leo,being the leader, headed in first with the rest of the group following behind him with their guards up.

"Donnie,any chance your scanners can find out whatever the thing responsible for that crash was?" Raph asked quietly.

"On it!" Donnie whispered back,already activating his mystic bo staff and using his goggles to look for the cause of the noise. The atmosphere feeling more tense by the minute.

"That's weird?" exclaimed Donnie, looking puzzled.

Leo looked at Donnie confused. "What do you mean that's weird?"

Donnie looked back at Leo. "This area is covered in mystic energy, almost exactly like Mikey's but faint and....."

Donnie's words were immediately cut off by the sound of an irritated and painful groan. Everyone flinched back from the sound coming from behind a dumpster. Slowly a dark shadow appeared from behind it which set the gang into prepare for an attack mode.

Leo was about to give an order to attack when suddenly the dark shadow turned into a young girl. She had white skin, brown eyes,blonde hair in a distinctive swooping hairstyle with a ponytail and wore blue torn jean shorts, a red t-shirt with a flaming skull on it and spiky ear piercings. She looked lie she was around 16 years old.

She looked gorgingly at Leo, then Donnie, then Raph, then Mikey, then Cathy until she stopped at Casey and Makoto which made her jaw drop. "C-Casey??!! Makoto?????!!!!"

The team looked shocked but not as shocked and surprised as Casey and Makoto. Makoto stared at the girl waringly while Casey raised an eyebrow at her.

"H-how do you know me and my cousin?" Casey asked sternly.

The girl looked at Casey and then pointed at Donnie. "Yo purple dude! What year is this????".

Donnie gave her a confused glance which made him think the she probably might have a concussion of some sort. "Its 2020. And also my name is Donatello not "purple dude" and also who the heck are you and how do you know Casey and Makoto??".

The girl gave an impressed slow whistle before clearing her throat and looking at the whole team.

"Let start over. The names Harley. Harley Temasik. But as for you two dudes," she said as she pointed at Casey and Makoto before giving a confident grin. "You can call me Wild Card!"

End of chapter 1

[t00nyah]

they're making fun of poor people...

-07.28.23

my new favourite kids ever!!!!!! so i just. limbusified. catherine and linton from wuthering heights. bc im just that fixated on the book and those kids in particular. and i love them!!! so much!!! please!!!

gearld and i kind of made a new bus thing with probably no logical ground but it's fun to think about and THAT'S what's important. welcome to the kidbus.

their designs are...kinda messed...bc i based catherine on my book cathy design, but linton is based on my altbus oc isabella who is in fact his mother. (canonically cathy mentions linton's hair being lighter and it haunts me, but i like those designs...)

the only design notes i have are the fact that linton has isabella's locket(sob she has one in my altbus design and she isn't mentioned to have one in the book when catherines were both mentioned to have lockets i was just 'ARE YOU KIDDING ME' this is fucking sad) and cathy's uhm...whatever those are called(sorry) was a gift from her father. ironically gave cathy heather purple and linton royal blue which looks like would make more sense if swithced but i like it.

so, basically, kidbus literally takes place around 20 years later so that linton and cathy can still be kids of their parents and follow the book timeline as i wish bc im obsessed. both get book-traumatized by heathcliff bc of course. and both are unbearable and stubborn as lintons' kids ha ha.

linton is...weak as fuck. just like in the book, health is NOT the best thing he inherited from his mother. too much emotional impact causes him to cough blood, and he, being his father's son, gets very heated when angry, which only worsens the probability of his weakness taking over him. (me and gearld have a concept on a table...that maybe his mother is isabella altbus and his health problems are actually related to her getting killed and revived during pregnancy. which sounds insanely logical and im so normal about this.)

catherine is just as sweet as she is, with a very strong heart and her own sense of judgement, but she's very demanding and stubborn. she cares about linton deeply.

faust picked the kids up exactly in time when cathy was trying to search some help with linton's rapidly worsening condition, dragging him with her against his whining about it being too much for him. she didn't even get to say anything, cathy herself called out for her and begged for help. faust took linton from her to carry to the bus, to dante, doing pact shenanigans and such. initially...only cathy was supposed to be a sinner. the only reason why linton turned into one was cathy wanting him there because if her conditions aren't met she tends to rebel and stubbornly ignore whatever she's told to do until she has her own reasons to. so now linton suffers from constantly being led to his horrifying condition in fights and being revived only to experience it again.

-07.29.23

-07.28.23

cathy, being a thrushcross office member initially, carries a gun and never was taught anything else. linton, being a wuthering heights member, was barely taught handling a mace by heathcliff. he doesn't even have strength to use it to it's full potential. cathy once tried it and linton got very upset and pissed off by her noting it's not that hard. she just naturally is stronger than him.

they're also a pain to deal with hehe... in their cantos i think they'd probably confront heathcliff, separated by maybe hareton playing some role? i'm still working on that.

i love my kids.

[amplifyme]

Really quick update and question (with no care for grammar and punctuation, gotta fly):

Orphans-- love the episode. Brought up the similarity between Cathy and Father again: if an incident is too emotionally scarring or taxing, they wish to burrow away from the world permanently (tying themselves to a person or community rather than to themselves... it makes sense why Vincent and Devin still wished to please their father in that light-- not in a negative way so much as modeling their parent's way of seeking and giving love.) Father's concern for Vincent this episode and Vincent keeping the lines carefully uncrossed and Cathy willing to cross them but holding herself back until she's more sure of herself was an interesting dynamic. Her conversations with Vincent and her Father and the boy and Joe were incredibly well-done; and tying the park not only to Vincent but also to her father was another cool layer. (Also: I see why you said Vincent is kind of like a father to her, like she is kind of like a mother to him. It's that unfailing and undemanding and ultimately soothing love that never wavers or falters.)

Interesting thought: This episode made me believe, for the first time, that if Cathy had just learned a few more lessons from her mistakes and struck out more independently (instead of codependently), she and Vincent might have made a better match. And I really did like her by the end of this episode... but I have a feeling her new streak won't last or won't be significant enough of a change to keep her and Vincent out of trouble.

Okay, one last note: Full disclosure, I've been meaning to rewatch The Outsiders again because I want to figure out why I thought/think Cathy wasn't in the wrong for her choices; and I've been compiling your notes, cross-referencing, etc.... But I can't work myself up to it yet. Tbh, there's something about being stalked in the tunnels that gets under my skin; and that's a first, so well done BATB~. SO, I'll just run my questions by you instead. ;))))

Cathy pushed but ended up respecting Vincent's command not to go Below until Father asked for her to come down; she then agreed to help the children (not to be Below, just to collect them and take the kids with her Above?); and was roped into more by Father's covert ask (for a gun.) Which I liked the dynamic that set up: Father's meditative underhandedness when Vincent's safety is concerned and Cathy's blind trust in his intentions; and that both of them ultimately fired the gun at Vincent, though it was through the hands of a child. (Did I miss a moment where she requested Below to contact her for help regardless of Vincent's wishes; or do you believe her accepting any summons from them was bad in general because Vincent didn't want her Below?) And when she did agree to help, was it with the intent she would technically be "Below"? Is all of that negated when she went searching for Pascal without knowing the full picture and ended up in the enemies' hands? Because if she met all of the above criteria, I see this more as an unfortunate happening rather than willful "I will help because it's my job!" that has gotten her (and Vincent) in trouble before. Enlighten me, oh repeated viewer of this stressful episode! XDDDDD

I'm going to tackle your questions about The Outsiders before I dive into Orphans.

Please don't feel you have to rewatch any episode just to discuss it in more detail. I'm more than happy to fill in any blanks you might have. And remember that I have my own biases, and my take on something may not always match yours. That's okay.

Cathy pushed but ended up respecting Vincent's command not to go Below until Father asked for her to come down; she then agreed to help the children (not to be Below, just to collect them and take the kids with her Above?)

That's correct, sort of. She met up with Father in the threshold of her building, so she wasn't exactly in the tunnels themselves. She was to meet Pascal at the Central Park threshold (Above) to escort the kids to a helper and that was when she'd pass the gun to him. So technically she wasn't really Below (therefore respecting Vincent's wishes) until she made the decision to make the trip down when Pascal didn't show up. The fact of his absence alone should've told her that something had gone sideways (as Vincent had predicted to her) and the last place he would want her was in the tunnels, in the thick of it. But she went anyway, because that's what Cathy does. She's impulsive and hardheaded and doesn't stop to consider consequences. And I can guarantee you that Vincent is extremely aware of that aspect of her personality. It's not the first time she's ignored his warnings or wishes. And who turns out to be right 99% of the time? Listen to the person who experiences prescient visions and dreams on the regular, Cathy!

On to Orphans. One of my favorite episodes in the series because it marks a tangible turning point in V & C's relationship. I concur with everything you said about it. But I'd like to dig into that turning point I mentioned. This is the first time either of them so clearly acknowledge to each other that there is a definite sexual attraction there. They both want to be together that way, and it's beginning to seem like it could happen. Those lingering looks they share when Vincent bids her good-night in the guest chamber are just loaded with UST. Not to mention those moments when Vincent chooses to gather her into his arms in her bed and stays even after she falls asleep. That's a big step for him. A physical relationship is what Cathy is addressing when she asks him later, "Do you think someday... Will we ever be together, truly together?"

Vincent's response is interesting too. "Only if and when we understand how great the sacrifice and how large the fears, and are able to move through them." I think he's talking more to himself than he is to her. Because she doesn't have to tell him she's not scared. He knows that, can feel it in her. It's his own fears that he has to reconcile.

And then this: "Catherine, we are something that has never been, and our journey is one that none have ever taken. We are just now setting out. We must go with courage and we must go with care."

He's reminding her that despite what they'd like to have happen, neither can afford to ever forget there's a part of him that is unhuman and unpredictable, and they've found themselves in an entirely unique position. They're something that's never been because (as far as he knows) he is something that's never been.

This is part of the reason why he's so desperate to make sure he never finds himself having to kill for her - or in her presence - again. "Not like that. Not ever again." Because in those moments after he kills to protect her is when he cannot reconcile himself to the feelings it brings to the surface, that terrifying alchemy of desire and death, the man versus the Other; the battle for his soul and the ongoing struggle to be nothing but a man for her. Because based on his past experience, that hasn't turned out well. Arabesque offers a really good look at how past events have shaped him and why he's so desperate to tear himself loose from Buster.

I told you in the beginning, it gets pretty dark toward the end of S2. This is about the time in the series when George R.R. Martin declared the writing staff to be The Brotherhood of Pain. But When the Bluebird Sings is a lovely palate cleanser in the middle of the season.

Oh, and I can't end this without addressing the kiss when Cathy goes back Above. It was a moment of collective joy in the fandom, and I was making sounds only a dog could hear. But if you look carefully, she doesn't kiss him fully on the mouth, it's more the corner of it. But Vincent still looks totally gobsmacked. I love it. 😊

[owenski]

Music recommendations

Are you looking for opm classic songs? Here let me share my all time favorite opm classic songs.

Don't Know What To Say - Ric Segreto

This is a crazy good song for all those hopeless romantic people. The song has just its simple tune, so calm but has a deeper thoughts of meaning. For every person who could not tell anyone about their feelings for someone. Hoping that one day they might end up feeling the same crazy feelings inside.

Closer You and I - Gino Padilla

Closer you and I means in a relationship distance is never an obstacle. Love, trust and open communication are the strong foundations to make things work. This song is highly recommended for couples who are in long-distance relationships to realize that distance is not a problem when you truly love each other.

A Smile in Your Heart - Jam Morales

“A Smile in Your Heart” was one of the greatest hits of OPM legend of the 80s Jam Morales. This love song A Smile In your Heart means nothing is more beautiful than a woman who is happy to be herself.

With a Smile - Eraserheads

With a Smile" is a single by the Eraserheads from their second album. This song is about a person reassuring their loved ones that they'll always there no matter what happens.

Forevermore - David Archuleta

This song is the Theme song of "Forevermore" a 2014 Philippine romantic drama television series directed by Cathy Garcia-Molina. The song is a tragic ballad about a guy trying to cope with a broken heart,” said Leevon. “What he’s trying to tell everyone is that it’s okay to feel bad, but just give me my moment and I’ll be fine afterward.”

When I met you - APO Hiking Society

When I Met You" is a song by a Filipino musical group, Apolinario Mabini Hiking Society. The Apolinario Mabini Hiking Society, later popularly known as APO Hiking Society, or simply APO, were a Filipino musical group, that comprised Danny Javier, Jim Paredes, and Boboy Garrovillo.

I'll Never Go - Nexxus

I'll never go is the same as saying I will never leave you no matter what and how hard the situation is. Because love is truly magical, it's such a nice feeling when one sings this song. And today, someone feels like singing this song, and he/she should listen whether he/she likes it or not.

Your Love - Alamid

Your Love is a song by Alamid, Alamid became popular in the music scene via the first single "Your Love," which the band initially deemed as "baduy" but eventually became their ticket to fame. This love song is my favorite among all the opm classic songs here, This song is highly recommend.

Parting Time - Rockstar

This song bring out emotion when somebody is leaving you and you can't let go. This song can have different meaning it depend on the person but for me it's a song for you and your lover like telling her you can't leave me, I'm lost without you, I can't leave without you and most important it's telling her how much you love her.

Leaving Yesterday Behind - Keno

Joaquin Francisco Sanchez, more commonly known as Keno, is a Filipino singer of Leaving Yesterday Behind. This song is about starting again with a new start and an open mind, forgetting the past and starting something new.

OPM songs convey both the simple and complex aspects of life. Listening to OPM songs is a great experience since it is the true essence of the Filipino spirit, which you can emotionally engage with. Furthermore, we cannot deny that music can provide us comfort in times of loneliness or sadness.

This songs is incredibly enjoyable to me; every songs has a deep and lovely message that can make your heart skip a beat. If you wish to attempt different music genres, these recommended songs can help you. This music is highly recommended, so I hope you'll take the time to listen to it.

[ritacaroline]

New Series

By Ritacaroline

Quips n Blips To Ponder

Episode 1 : 1 800 Dial A ......

Met a man on social network. Things began light and friendly since we had a lot in common. Soon he started offering intimate encounters, so my response to him was -

?? What do you think this is ?

1 800 Dial - A- Slut ??

Eventually, I wrote this description of a possible call with the fictional service.

Phone ringing....

1 800 : Good evening sir. You have reached 1 800 Dial a Slut.

Our services include but are not limited to - evaluation of photos of your personal self. Specifically areas below the waist. We will review said photos and provide you with an official evaluation and documentation of your parts. You may use this document to tempt low class girls that you meet at bars.

1 800 : How may we serve you tonight, sir ? And will that be Visa or Mastercard ?

Excuse us, hold on, another call is arriving.

May we please place you on a brief hold, while we serve another client. ( You will not be able to hear this incoming call. )

Hello ?

You've reached

1 800 Dial and Confess.

Please listen to the following options as our menu has changed.

To continue :

Press one (1)

if you wish to make a confession regarding yourself.

Press two (2)

if you plan on throwing one of your neighbors under the bus.

Press three (3)

if you're a dirty slut. Then, we'll quickly call Father Larry, since he loves hearing about that stuff.

Alright then - We see you have entered one for our standard

Dial and Confess.

Please press 4 to begin.

Cathy : Yes hello ? This is Cathy. ( wasn't sure if 3 should've been my choice, )

Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been 42 thousand six hundred ninety days since my last confession. Snap on your seatbelt. It's gonna be a long bumpy ride.

Father : Yes, my daughter- please proceed with sin #1. You'll be charged based on both the number and the severity of your described sins.

Cathy : I..., uh oh ? - I hope I've brought enuf cash.

Either way, on to sin one -

yes - I have agreed to and been involved in evaluating photos of unclothed men in our area.

Father : And have you been compensated financially for these services ?

Cathy : uhm, No. But furthermore I have involved myself in sacrilegious conversations with said men. And I'm a dirty slut. (Someone had to say it. )And Father, I am sorry for all my sins.

Father : Ah yes, my daughter - that's a monumental one. In Jesus name - I ask that you contemplate how you've behaved and how you have thoroughly disappointed the Lord. As penance we ask that you pray 3 thousand seventy five Our Fathers and 9 hundred forty six Hail Marys. Feel free to visit our snack bar during your penance - because you're gonna be here a good long while and will most likely become hungry. See it to your left, titled : Sinners Snack Bar.

On a side note - please deposit copies or originals of the photos to which you are referring, into the metal lockbox below, labeled Father Larry.

So that we may see the level of disgust and perversity in which you've been engaging. (This is for scientific purposes only. )

Father : My daughter, Do you promise to never act in this sinful way again ?

Cathy : Uhhhhmmmm , well, .....I uh uh uh.

Father : I see. Either way, Go forth now into the world and serve the Lord.

And please daughter, wear a longer skirt next time you visit. You're inviting Satan into the realm of our Lord.

On your way.

______________

Mandatory

Official Documentation

Provided by sinner :

Please describe and evaluate the content of the photos of the unclothed men, of which you've ogled upon : and please include a copy of said photos for our enjoyment assessment and scientific research purposes.

Cathy : ok ? Well, what I saw was at first difficult to see bc it was very dark in the room in which the photographs were taken. Then once I deciphered the picture, it all became very clear. I thought ? WTF ? MF.

Once I recovered from my initial startle, I took a much better look. For scientific purposes only, that is. And, yeah. It was pretty nice. Delicious looking in fact. Something I could really get my teeth into, but carefully. As to not injure it. Yep. Looks like I wouldn't mind putting my hands around it. And kissing it. Lovingly, yet, with a lot of warm saliva. Yeah, guess I am a dirty slut. But I really like this guy. He's rough but sweet and kind of adorable. And has a really manly but cute voice. And I could see me really enjoying wrapping myself around him. Know what I mean ? Overall, formally speaking now - I'm going to give that photo a 9.8 out of 10. It looks awesome and I predict a lot of deliciousness, but we need to leave 0.2 leeway for improvement. Because there can always be improvement in anything. Nothing is perfect.

Over and out.

[steele-soulmate]

Princess of Candy Coated Lies, Modern Royalty AU- King Peter Steele & Single Mother OFC, Soulmate AU

Chapter 8

SUMMARY: Single mother Molly Anne Harper does the best she can do, given her circumstances- since she broke up with her ex-boyfriend by sending him to jail, she’s been struggling to be the best mother to twin daughters while working barely minimum waged jobs. But when she meets her soulmate- King Peter Thomas Ratajczyk of Brooklyn- she quickly finds herself falling heads over heels in love with the guarded, battle damaged ruler. Likewise, Peter finds himself with a family of a women and two little girls who call him daddy. But what happens when their father gets out from behind bars and starts to cause mayhem?

A Soulmate AU where you never know what the first words your soulmate says to you until they say it

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mentions of domestic violence (nothing graphic) mentions of alcohol abuse (nothing graphic) mentions of domestic abuse (nothing graphic) mentions of illicit drugs (nothing graphic) mentions of wrongful arrest

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS: This fic is dedicated to SkullWoggle on AO3 and @rock-a-noodle on Tumblr.

WORD COUNT: 1497

“Thanks!” I called out as the Amazon delivery was dropped off by the front door. I stepped out onto the gorgeously spacious wrap around porch and picked up the package, smiling as I glanced at the shipping label and saw my name- MISS MOLLY ANNE HARPER- and found myself wondering if I would ever get the chance to become Mrs. Molly Anne Ratajczyk.

I carried the parcel into the kitchen, where I deposited it onto the island and located a pair of scissors to open it. As I was opening the box, the front door opened and a friendly halloo sounded out.

A pretty woman a few years older than the king wandered into the kitchen, untying her scarf from her neck and smiled kindly at the sight of me.

“You must be my baby brother’s soulmate!” beamed Princess Cathy, coming up to take my hands into hers and squeeze. “Mary Claire, right?”

“Actually, my name is Molly Anne, your highness,” I corrected her awkwardly, jerking my thumb over to the door that led into the laundry room and the garage. ��The king is in his man cave with my daughters, showing them how they can help him build their bedroom furniture.”

“Do you mind if I get to know you more first?” she asked me eagerly. “I can go pester Peter later.”

I asked her to go into the laundry room and grab me a laundry basket so that I could toss the girls’ new bedsheets in for a wash. She came back out empty handed and told me that there was no laundry basket to be found. In response, I went onto my Amazon app and added two sets of two collapsible laundry baskets to my wish list- a two set of a green one and a blue one, and a two set of a pink one and a red one.

“No problem,” I told her, taking out the girls’ new bedsheets first and setting them off in a pile, two sets of twin sized bedsheets in a soft creamy white color with stripes and funky patterns covering the bedsheets.

“So tell me more about yourself,” Princess Cathy asked me, standing over on the other side of the island as to give me space while I unpacked the box from Amazon.

“Can you be a bit more specific, please?” I requested of her.

“Tell me about when you and Peter met,” she begged of me next.

And so, I told her of how Lady Bridget Barlowe had successfully swayed me into taking her place for two weeks, convincing me with money that I had planned to put towards my twin daughters, of how the king sniffed out my carefully put together ruse almost at once, of how he said those little words that I had never knew would be the first words my soulmate would ever say to me until those words escaped past his lips…

Of how the king would now take care of me and my daughters.

“Molly Anne, might I ask you what you want to happen next in your life?” the Princess asked me next, making me pause as I was pulling out two sets of soft lilac bath towels, hand towels and wash clothes. “I mean, what do you want to happen next?”

“I want to king to adopt my daughters,” I blurted out. “I want him to adopt them, and I want him to marry me. But… but I don’t know if he wants that also.”

“Molly Anne, let me tell you a secret- Peter craves love,” she told me in a gentle tone of voice. “When he was a little boy, he always looks for approval and sought out words of praise. He became a good student, earning near perfect grades, despite having severe learning disabilities. He dated extensively in his later teen years and well into his twenties, up until dad died. He’s been ruling Brooklyn for fourteen years now, and he told me that he’d given up and meeting his soulmate.”

I hummed as I tugged out new sheets for the king’s bed- I had selected a set in green stripes and a set in a soft creamy white. I unfolded them and tossed the new bed covering into the washer, throwing in a pod of detergent before shutting the door and programming it for a regular load.

“You’re a good mother,” the princess commented as I returned to the kitchen, smiling my thanks when I saw that she had removed the bath towel sets for the girls and myself and was now clipping the tags off.

“I need to be,” I shrugged, flapping the bath necessities open and getting them ready to be washed. “I worked two full times jobs- a waitress at a mom and pop breakfast café and a desk secretary at a small law firm. The king had me quit those jobs and promised me that he will care for the three of us. I have trust issues with men though quite understandingly, with my history with the girls’ father.”

“Are you comfortable enough to share?” she asked me, leaning forward on her elbows on the countertop.

“Henry was the perfect guy for me when I first met him- or so I thought,” I recalled with a wistful sigh. “I dropped out of college, even though I had one last semester to go before graduation and moved in with him. Things quickly went downhill from there- he would get drunk and beat me black and blue, he would conduct drug deals out of the front room of his small, rat infested apartment, and ran with a rough group of people who would break into businesses and houses to steal stuff and sell for drug money.”

Here, I hesitated, not wanting to go into this painful part of my life.

“He made me spend a few days behind bars,” I confessed with a snort. “He had me hide some stuff in my room, and when the police came to search the house, he made them believe that I stole the stuff and they arrested me. I did six weeks behind bars, and then I found out that I was pregnant.”

Here, I paused, shutting my eyes as I took in a sharp inhale of air.

“And so, I ratted him out,” I chuckled. “I told the police everything- from who he got his drugs from to which storage container he used to hold the stuff he and his buddies stole to how he and his buddies chose which house they would break into. When he was confronted by the police, he was jazzed up on something, and he killed three police officers before he was tazed and sentenced to sixty years behind bars with a slim chance at parole after ten years.”

The princess tossed her head backwards in a laugh.

“Atta girl,” she praised me around a heavy onslaught of giggles. “If they hurt you, go for where the moon meets in the middle.”

I sniggered, smiling as the sound of little footsteps pounding up the stairs from the garage, signaling that the rest of the family was coming up.

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD

“Just remember- Peter will do anything for love,” Princess Cathy reminded me gently. “You should talk to him and tell him what you want. I know that he will happily accommodate you and your needs.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE it only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noolde

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

[monstermaster13]

Spectral intervening

Dan aykroyd tf/possession theme.

-------------------------------------------

Sometimes when our friends leave us it is hard to let go and move on especially when said friend is very much like a sibling, Nathan wasn't perfect by any means, he had sides to him that made him bitter towards others, had difficulty letting go, had a tendency to kill people that’s when he got corrupted by Corey Feldman who took over him and made him into a killer who traps bad people by turning them into living poke-dolls with human organs, he didn't speicifically mean to. Flashforward to 2022, specifically early this month where Nathan’s tumblr-verse summoning spell attempt to bring a deceased partner back to life got the partner's attention but not the answer he wanted. His partner's ex had found a new lover and he wasn't liking any of it...'I keep trying to help you but you don't listen, not in the slightest, your ex is dating someone harmful.' 'Why?' 'That person performs experiments on other people and mutates them, she's a killer.'

“So?”

“There’s nothing good about falling in love with a criminal or a killer, your ex has hybristophilia.”

"Are you saying it's wrong?"

"Yes...I wish I could bring you back."

“Yes, but come on…let me in.”

“I wish I could but it’s not that simple.”

Nathan broke down in tears and started to cry, he may not have looked like he cared that much about his feelings but he truly did and he missed his partner very much, but he had trouble processing that, that night as he sat there on his bed doing his hair and checking his phone, he sensed a supernatural disturbance coming from the box of clothes near his computer, that’s when a spirit emerged from them, that spirit was a spectral version of Corey Feldman. ‘I know how it feels to lose a best friend, I lost both Michael Jackson and Corey Haim in the same year. Haim was my bestie, we were the two Coreys. The point is, screw friendships, they never truly last for longer than a century’ ‘But I care a lot about my former partner,, I feel like i'm responsible for his death.’ ‘Forget what your partner said, his ex is seeing smeone who demands payment, if that woman he's dating wants it, we'll give it to both of the, in blood.’

That’s when Feldman was interrupted by a couple more spirits, mainly Michael Jackson, John Candy, John Belushi, Phil Hartman, Robin Williams and Glenn Shadix. ‘Corey, i’m ashamed of you, don’t you know revenge isn’t a good thing at all?’ ‘But Mike, don’t you want to get your own back on the paparazzi and the media that shamed you and for that insipid documentary that was made about you?’ ‘Even if I could attempt to defend myself one final time, it wouldn’t do me much good.’ “Belushi, don’t you want revenge against Cathy for giving you the drug overdose that killed you?’ ‘It was accidental, besides Cathy died two years ago.’ “Phil, what about your wife? She killed you..don’t you want to get your own back on here?’ ‘Oh no no, she did the job herself and ended her own life, I feel like I don’t have anything to add to that.’ ‘Robin, what about what Disney did and still is doing to your legacy?’ ‘Yes, I got screwed over by Disney, but that doesn’t mean I want to get revenge on them, trying to replace me again as the Genie on the other hand, yeah…let’s just say Will Smith is on my list.’

The ghosts argued…but then spirit!Corey asked…’Glenn, clearly you were pushed down the stairs and you fell out of your wheelchair and that’s how you met your demise, how about getting back on the person who was with you at the time?’ ‘If you’re trying to manipulate Nathan into getting revenge of his friend because of what happened, it’s not working, Feldman. Revenge isn’t a good look for you anyway. Besides, we all know the worst thing you could do is sing them to death.’

Next to Corey Feldman the singer Meat Loaf materialized…’When did you get here?’ ‘I”m new, I just passed away earlier.’ “Have you been shown around?’ ‘Yes, and I think that it’s time that I got to see what you spirit guides actually do.’ ‘Basically a spirit guide manifests to a person of their choice and gives them advice or sometimes gives them spectral assistance. I”m basically telling Nathan to get revenge on the ex-friend of his for how she accepted his apology but turned down his offer to get back to him as a friend but the others here disagree.’ “You’re damn right I disagree.” Robin interjected…’Revenge is never a good thing and as many times as I”ve tried to do it myself, it never ends well. it just doesn’t, take it from a comedian who did a movie about a vengeful ex-children’s show host getting back at his replacement, revenge isn’t good.’ ‘Aaaw come on Robin, let me tell him to do it.’ ‘No, Nathan shouldn’t have to listen to you, yes that new friend of Alyssa’s is a murderer and a serial killer and Nathan was right about him and while he does question the logic of someone falling for a killer, he knows that it’s hypocritical to do so.’

Meat shook his head as he took notes and offered Nathan some advice, telling him that he knew how he felt..’listen, i know that losing a pal can be a nightmare that you wish you could wake up from, I know the exact same feeling and how it feels to lose someone you love, Corey thinks that revenge is a good idea, I don’t. I know my albums are all hellfire and bats and motorcycle fury, but i’m a nice guy really and I only want the best for those I care about and I care about you.’ ‘You do?’ ‘Why yes, I do.’ Corey frowned a little…’But wouldn’t it be fun to slice that woman into pieces and watch as she screams and begs for mercy?’ ‘There’s no fun in causing other people pain.’ Phil Hartman responded.

“I may be new at this whole being a ghost thing but I know you’ll ultimately do the right thing.”

Nathan sighed as he looked into the mirror of his phone, only for Dan Aykroyd to appear. ‘At ease, boys.’ Aykroyd exclaimed as he jumped out. ‘Sir yes sir.’ ‘Our friend Nathan needs our help, clearly he has lost someone very important to him and that someone has come back and no longer wants him to think of them.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Now…Private Williams, Captain Belushi. How would you help our friend?’

“Well I would tell him that he did what he could and that’s all that matters before telling me if he ever needs a friend he could call on us.’ ‘Very good Robin. What about you, Belushi?’ ‘Well Dan sir, you need to know that as your best friend and second in command, that I too wouldn’t give up on friendship just because one friend I used to be close with left me, there’s always someone new and it’s not worth crying over spilled milk.’ ‘Pretty solid advice as usual, what about you Feldman?’ ‘Revenge, if this ex-friend wants payment for this they’ll get it, in their own blood that is.’ ‘Corey Scott Feldman, you should know revenge is never a good thing.’ ‘Come on Captain Aykroyd, don’t you wanna give it a go yourself?’ ‘Feldman!’ ‘Sorry.’ ‘These guys have the right idea, you don’t. Now, what our friend needs is a little assistance.’

Dan gently used some ghostly magic to erase the bad memories of what happened between Nathan and Alyssa so only the ones he had fond thoughts about were kept, followed by erasing the effects of the blocking spell that she cast and also repairing the one broken link between them. ‘And now for the next part.’ ‘Which is…’ ‘Well clearly i’m only beginning here.’ His eyes turned and gave off a supernatural glow and he brought Nathan over to him before hypnotizing him and conditioning him, this was the process needed to help with what he was going to do next.

“I want you to listen to me.”

“I already am.”

He smiled as he told Nathan what to do next, as he took on a spectral form, diving into his mouth and down his throat, possessing him in the process. He examined himself as his stomach gurgled and swelled, his skin maturing as brownish hairs grew on his stomach and also on his chest and torso which were broadening in the process. “I’ve missed this..’ ‘I knew it, I knew you hadn’t lost it.’ Nathan had been missing out on this for quite a while, he loved the Were-Aykroyd side, since it gave him a chance to get into character and forget about his problems, not to mention he got to enjoy being Dan Aykroyd a lot over time, initially he thought it was weird or creepy but eventually he warmed up to it.

In addition to this his arms enlarged and broadened as his hands followed, the same hairs from before grew on them, he examined himself and purred a little as his legs altered,his rear plumping up to give him that thicc posterior Aykroyd himself had as his shoulders and back broadened, his height going up from 5’7 to 6’1 as his neckline altered, as he was transforming…Meat Loaf summoned several spider-creatures to write a song in memorance for his partner, which they did, the spider creatures formed an apology message which was then transported to the abode his apartment was located at.

It didn’t take any form of mind-wiping to convince the partner that everyone was going to be alright, as Corey undid the effects he placed upon the people, turning the partner's new beau into an immortal living Pokedoll still with human organs and memories, because he knew that he wouldn’t be so heartless as to force him to do this. . Meanwhile, Nathan was still transforming as his hair darkened and his forehead elevated in height, his feet slowly grew in size with two of the toes on both feet joining together at the knuckle to give them a webbed appearance.

Next to this his eyebrows thickened and his eyes widened, one turning green while the other turned brown and his nose broadened, a small cleft materializing in the middle as his lips became more kissable and his features altered, warping into a perfect likeness of Dan Aykroyd as his voice altered in the process, making him sound a lot like Aykroyd as well, deepening and maturing his voice and giving him Aykroydian mannerisms. His personality and mindset altered, his persona shifting into those of his Aykroydian alterego, he remembered that he wasn’t who he was before but he was ‘Dan’ a king Were-Aykroyd who had a group of friends who admired him and he also had a group of siblings…all Aykroyd characters, who loved him just as much, he sighed a satisfied sigh as his transformation completed.

“Now it’s time for the parting gifts.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Nat tells me that his partner could use with a true reminder of how great he was."

He weaved a cloud of special transformation smoke magic which formed into a special vision of butterflies which emitted a glow which showed his deceased partner all the memories they had shared together. The were-aykroyd was proud of what he had done, he had used his powers to patch things up. ‘See? I told you there was a way to do it without revenge.’ ‘Aaaaw come on, that’s sad…I don’t like endings like this, I wanted to see her die.’ John Belushi chuckled as did Phil Hartman, followed by Robin Williams…’Corey, I know you’re sad about losing Haim and you’re still trying to defend yourself regarding what happened, but it’s not good to hold grudges.’ Begrudgingly, Corey Feldman nodded. ‘I’m sorry for trying to encourage Nathan to do bad things, I don’t mind to be evil sometimes, it’s just I guess I cannot help but be an asshole like that. Oh and by the way, i’m sorry for making fun of Belushi’s samurai costume and Glenn’s kimono. Glenn, you don’t look like a couch.’ Glenn Shadix accepted Feldman’s apology and hugged him, Feldman blushed and then looked over at the other spirits, he had to admit that he had learned a lot…as had Meat Loaf, who for a beginner ghost…had picked up quite a lot. Feldman learned not to let the loss of his friend get to him and reformed.

And thus both of them were able to get what they wanted and got to move on happily with their lives, sometimes it may be hard to move on and we all say things we wish we couldn’t have said it and we wish we could fix up the broken patches, what happens in the past cannot be fixed unless you’re thinking of supernatural ways to do so, so don’t think of the bad things that happened, think of the good things that will happen in the future and are happening right now, yes in these times we always have to be careful but sometimes if we all work together, we can make it through. The moral is as Sting eloquently put in his song, if you love somebody, if you love someone, set them free.

[pochqmqri]

I remember when my ex-girlfriend broke with me, the day after, on her blog, she was sharing pics of random strangers saying she was in a “women lovin’ mood recently.” Contrast that to how she had refused to look at any of my pics and then broke up with me by saying she “[felt] no romantic feelings for [me] anymore.” 

It’s fucking rich that she made up whatever excuse she could to not even glance at my nudes or even sputter out a compliment while she continually thirsted over random strangers and even complimented some of them, saying shit like “nice cock.” On the day we broke up, I saw on her N$FW account that she was sharing a barrage of nudes while at the time telling me mine were unappealing as they weren’t “full or near full body” despite those pics being around the same perspective as mine. I hate most V-Tubers, so her obsession with them was something we butted heads over, but seeing her constantly share lewd art of them felt insulting, like I was losing to fictional depictions. Yeah, that does make me sound insecure, I admit. It seems she got her “horny” back once she broke up with me, because on her N$FW alt I saw her share posts that were like “RT if my pics made you horny” or “RT if you’ve ever sucked girlcock, be honest.” That last one is a bit interesting, because from my knowledge the only time she ever had sex was with my other ex-partner when they were together last December, and they didn’t even go that far. So at some point when they moved in for real, she did try it again despite prior saying she was “not that crazy about it.” 

And yeah, people’s sexualities are complex, and she can do whatever she wants now that we’re no longer a couple, but I still feel she was being dishonest with me to an extent during our relationship. If she had been honest about her feelings for me or lack thereof, maybe I wouldn’t be hurting so much still. 

Around the time of the breakup was when I was about to start final exams for my last semester of undergrad. I knew I couldn’t let it bother me too much because I had so much at stake, so I shelved it temporarily to focus on studying. I ended up passing not only all my exams, but also maintaining straight As. It just shows much stronger I am without her. I will get better, some day. And if I needed a reason to continue going on, it’s so that I can transition and become my true and full self, which I hope is sooner than later. To transition not only for myself, but also to spite my ex, as I will become prettier than her, maybe even more “well-endowed” since she always talked about “booba,” so that she can see what missed out on. Maybe by then she’ll see how she hurt me.

[officialscaramouche]

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

My Silver Screen, My Misery, My Love, My Defeat

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Fem Reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something with Billie Dean for so long but didn’t know where to start. This lady intimidates me. I don’t know what this fic is worth, and I’m so nervous about posting it - I know it’s not particularly nice, but it’s the most personal fic I ever wrote so please be kind. 

Title is from “Pacific Coast Highway In The Movies” by AWOLNATION. This song haunts me. x

Word count: ~ 3 000

“Dear me when will my life begin?” you sighed dramatically as you gathered your things.

“Bitch, I never want to see you again,” your boss growled, pointing an angry finger at you.

“Goodbye, asshole!” you called over your shoulder as you walked out of the room.

You had never cared about that job. You didn’t seem to be able to care about anything at all. You were so bored.

Real life lacked passion and colours. You were constantly hungry for a sense of wonderment. No emotion was worth feeling if it wasn’t extreme. You wanted to know how it felt to love so deeply you would faint in the dining room like the heroines of old, drive your car off a cliff, smash the heads of your lover’s suitors. When had the world and love become so boring?

You had come to believe you would never be able to fall in love with anyone. Fiction had ruined your life. You wanted beauty, you wanted glamour, you wanted passion and murder, tears shed under the stars, diamonds on the bed. You wanted a lover who would come down the stairs in a white silk gown with lace as the music and the lighting made love to her. Cherry pink lips and wavy hair, glitter in her eyes. How could anyone settle for less?

You walked into the bright sunlight and let the flow of pedestrians sweep you away.

**

You scanned the press room and sighed. Bored, you were so bored. Luckily the couches were comfortable, and the tea was good.

You worked for the local newspaper – nothing serious, nothing you were passionate about, but you had been struggling to make ends meet. You and another journalist were covering an annual festival celebrating “everything mystical and magical!” Bollocks, as far as you were concerned. But you loved festivals, you always had. There was something almost surreal about them, how time seemed to slow down, and space to narrow. A bubble would form, a dome, a world only a few were let in. Real life would stop for a while, and you loved that, because real life was boring.

The press secretary – Leo? Theo? who cared; he was uninteresting and badly dressed – waved at you from across the room. “She’s here,” he mouthed, meaning the medium you were to interview. You gave him a thumbs-up and sighed as soon as he turned his back to you. Notebook, pen, Dictaphone. Cup of tea - empty. Another sigh. You signaled to the old lady behind the counter at the far end of the room for another cup. She pretended not to see you.  

“Asshole,” you muttered between gritted teeth. Someone on the couch next to yours – Steve? Pete? he had introduced himself the day before, he worked for a national TV channel, you couldn’t remember which one – laughed loudly at something someone else had said.

Your attention was suddenly drawn to the door. The press secretary was ushering a group of people in: a young man wearing jeans, a girl clutching files to her chest, a woman who walked in as if she owned the place, high-heels clicking, smile flashing.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Pete (Steve?) point at her. “Man, that’s Billie Dean Howard,” he said in a breath.

“Who?” asked his companion.

“Oi, Miss Howard!” someone called – a photographer, jumping to his feet with his camera in his hands.

She glanced at him, offered him a polite smile; tilted her head on one side as she took a pose.

You gazed at her.

“Make sure the lighting is good,” she told the photographer.

The young man in jeans was buzzing around her, almost shoving a notebook into her face, muttering something about a timetable and how they were running out of time. She leaned away from him, holding out a perfectly manicured hand – pale pink acrylics, thin silver rings – to bat the notebook away. You saw her mouth twist in an annoyed kind of way, and then the press secretary nodded at you, and she turned, and her eyes met yours.

Her brow pushed up as a smug smile crept up her lips – plump, glittery beige lipstick. “Are you here for me, babydoll?” she called.

And just like that you were done for. For the stars were singing, and your heart was finally. Admiring. Entranced. Alive.

Oh thank all the freaking Gods, she had finally come.

**

You turned on the Dictaphone and grabbed your pen. Your hands were sweating.

“Ur,” you said. Billie Dean crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee, smiling.

You had prepared for this interview, vaguely, but she had stolen all the words from you. Kidnap me, was what you wished to tell her. Ravish me. Take me away with you from this grey world and fill my mind and heart with wonderment. Make me your co-star.

“So, what do you think of the city so far?” was what came out of your mouth. You could have died of embarrassment.

Fortunately for you, Billie Dean loved to talk about herself, so you didn’t have to rack your brain for interesting questions.

You told her you had waited for her your whole life. You told her you meant it. She looked genuinely surprised, but then she smiled, a smile that seemed to suggest she had already forgiven you for that mistake. You realized that, probably, your passionate childishness was very funny to her, as were all those who had succumbed to it before you.

“The scariest spirit I’ve ever met?” She leant back on the couch, eyes staring up at the ceiling, lips curling into a smile. “I don’t get scared easily,” she quipped, and her smile turned into a smirk.

“Are you planning on staying here long?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Depends if I can find a cozy bed to sleep in and a pretty girl to smooch.”

Damn her, damn her – you were about to lean in and kiss that smug smile off her lips when the press secretary – damn him, damn him – appeared out of nowhere as in an uninspired script, squeaking “Time’s up!” as if time mattered, as if time hadn’t stopped the minute you had met Billie Dean’s eyes.

The young man in jeans pressed a cup of coffee into Billie’s hands. “Cathy’s waiting for you in the VIP room,” he said nervously. He glanced at you over the rim of his glasses. “You’re done here?”

“I – “You cleared your throat. Billie Dean was standing up, rearranging her hair, ready to leave, ready to forget already –

“You’ll have us read that article before you publish it, alright?” the young man was saying.

“Oh whatever happened to the freedom of the press,” Billie retorted. Her eyes flicked to you. “Don’t mind him.”

“I have a very cozy bed,” you heard yourself say.

For a second or two, you could have heard a pin drop.

**

Billie held your face between her hands as if you were made of porcelain, the first time she kissed you. You gazed into her eyes as if you were dreaming. “Who are you?” you whispered.

She laughed indulgently. “Don’t forget to breathe, darling.”

A breath in. She smelt of cigarette smoke and sage and something else, something like… you didn’t know. There was no word for it. She smelt like Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars.

**

Billie Dean raised a toast to you and to the sun and said she couldn’t possibly live without either of you. You scoffed, rolled your eyes at her as if that wasn’t the kindest thing anyone had ever said to you. She noticed your reddening cheeks, and let out a chuckle.

“What? It’s a sunburn,” you lied, fighting a smile.  

The midday summer sun was beating down on the Mediterranean, a soft breeze blowing and carrying the scent of the sea. You were spending the week in Monaco, a gift from Billie for your first anniversary. You closed your eyes, breathed in happily. The waiter brought your order, a bistro salad with warm goat cheese on toast for you, a slice of salmon and French fries for Billie. She flashed a smile at him, and his eyes sparkled.

“He’s in love,” you teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“With me?” Billie assumed an innocent expression. “Why, I could not possibly believe that.”

You scoffed again. She smiled, pinched a thick slice of lemon between her thumb and index.

“We should come here every summer,” she said in a singsong, drizzling lemon juice over the salmon. “I love it here.”

“Ghost-free?”

She laughed. “I wish. But you look so beautiful with that sunburn.”Her eyes glanced up at you mischievously; you cleared your throat. She smirked, put the slice of lemon on the side of her plate, dried her fingers with her napkin.

“You and I, lost in a foreign country,” she said.

“Luckily for you, I took French lessons in college.”

“Oh is that so?” Under the table, Billie rubbed her bare foot up and down your leg. “And how do you say ‘kiss me’ in French?”

You leaned towards her, beaming. Your gaze flicked to her lips. “Embrasse-moi.”

“Atta girl.”

She took your breath away, every day. You bent over the table, meeting her lips halfway, smiling into the kiss.

**

“I love you,” she whispered. Her eyes smiled. “Forever.”

You pressed the pad of your thumb against her brow. “Um, you can’t know that.”

“Know that I love you?”

“Know that it’ll last forever. Nothing lasts forever.”

She pouted, shifted slightly on the bed. Your thumb slid on her skin. The light streaming through the windows splashed the walls of the hotel room yellow.

“Don’t be so mean at 8 in the morning,” she whined.

You rolled your eyes at her, planted a kiss on her lips. Her skin was hot and clammy. You nuzzled your nose in her neck, blew some air to tickle her. She raised one hand to fan herself – coral acrylics, no rings.

“Call room service,” she said, stretching lazily. “I want some ice cream.”

You snorted.“Ice cream for breakfast?”

“It’s too hot.”

You reached out for the telephone and sat up, making sure your bare breasts were exposed. “Lemon?” you asked Billie. She nodded, gaze on your chest. You made a face. “I don’t understand how you can stand the taste of lemon, it’s so sour – oh, hello. Yes, could we get some lemon ice cream, please? Ice cream, yes. Room 108. And you know what, a bottle of champagne as well. Yes.” You grinned at Billie, who, face half buried in her pillow, was laughing happily. “Thank you. Muchas gracias. Yes. Bye!”

**

“Miss Howard, please.”

“Oh babe, call me Billie.”

“A little further to the left, please Billie.”

“Who’s that with you, miss Billie?”

“Be a doll and fetch me my shawl, will you darling?”

The girl – Lucy? Lily? – nodded in awe and hurried off.

“A little further to the left, Billie.”

Someone turned on a projector. You squinted, gave Billie’s hand a squeeze.

“Miss Billie, who’s that charming young woman with you? Is she your date? Miss Billie, who’s –“

Camera flashes, everywhere. You felt Billie’s lips, feather-light, brush your ear. “Relax,” she whispered. “You look beautiful.”

All around you, you could make out dark shapes, nondescript, unimportant. Spectators of the show. Come to see her, come to see you.

“Miss Billie who’s that charming –“

“Paws off!” Billie laughed. She pulled you closer, hip bumping yours. “She’s all mine, gentlemen.”

You beamed at her, brighter than the projector. Camera flashes, everywhere. To capture the moment when Billie nipped your ear lobe and you threw back your head to laugh, one hand on her arm, in love, so in love.

**

“So what are we doing this weekend?”

You glanced up at her. “Aren’t you busy this weekend?”

Billie flashed you a smile as she sat down on the couch beside you. She laid one hand on your bare thigh, nails gently grazing. “Production’s delayed. I’m all yours.”

With a wince you removed her hand from your thigh. “I’m sweating,” you whined.

Her smile faltered, just a bit. “Aren’t you happy?”she asked. And then she relaxed and shook her head. “Oh, I’m stupid. You made other plans.”

“I’ve nothing to do at all.” You stretched and winced again. “I don’t know. I’m so bored.”

**

It happened again. And again.

You caught yourself looking at other faces in the crowd. No one held a candle to Billie Dean, you knew that. But still. You scanned the crowd.

You pretended not to notice when Billie held out a hand for you to hold.

**

The glamour was fading. The twinkle of the stars was being swallowed up by the morning light.

You had once visited a house. The wallpaper was peeling off, leaving ugly streaks of dirty grey or brown. The landlady’s nail polish was chipped.  

**

Billie’s eyes were wide and rimmed red. You had never seen her look so sad.

“Wait,” she pleaded, her fingers – pale pink acrylics, vintage ring with a red stone – closing around your wrist to hold you back. “Surely we can talk – “She tried to smile, but it looked too broken, too scared.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Billie,” you said, avoiding her gaze. You hesitated. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Her face fell. “But surely – “

“Are you here for me, babydoll?”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip and a tear rolled down her cheek, but you didn’t wipe it as you usually would. For this was how things always went. People left each other. Staying alive meant getting bored of the people you once loved. The credits roll. The movie ends.

You planted one last kiss on her lips as a sob pushed out of your throat. “Gosh but I loved you so much,” you cried. “I hadn’t been alive before you came. You taught me how to love and now I’ve died again and I’m lost without you. I’m forever lost without my love for you.”

You kept one of her scarves. It still smelt of cigarette smoke and sage and that something else – Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars.

**

Colours faded to grey. You sank back into routine. Monotonous. Soporific. Boring. So very boring.

A year ago you would have expected the world to stop turning the minute you walked out of Billie Dean’s life. It didn’t. Days followed days, a succession of yesterdays and todays and tomorrows. Life went on, mocking you.

**

The smell of salmon filled the kitchen as you dropped the thick slices onto the burning pan. You smiled as Julie – a one-night stand that somehow had become more – made an appreciative noise. She was sprawled on the sofa, watching TV lazily, muttering “Boring” every time she changed the channel.

“Boring,” – another channel, “Boring,” – another channel, “Bo – oh hello there! Y/N, look, I spot a milf!”

You looked up as the anchorman’s face twisted into a fawning smile. “I’ve got Muriel here on the phone, from Portland, Oregon. Muriel sounds pretty worried. She wants to know if ghosts stay forever as ghosts or if they ever get to find peace.”

The camera cut to his guest – coral acrylics, no rings. The salmon’s grease sizzled on the pan.

“Nice pair of legs,” Julie was saying. “Come on, cameraman, don’t be shy, show us more!”

You shushed her.

“… some of them have been dead for a very long time, I’m afraid,” Billie Dean answered with an affected nod of her head.

Your eyes were wide.

“And what about love?” the anchorman asked.

Billie quirked an eyebrow. “Love?”

“Do you think it’s eternal?”

**

“I can’t believe we’re leaving tomorrow!” your friend Henry moaned drunkenly. He tapped his foot on the pavement like a pouting child. “Couldn’t we buy a house on one of those hills and live here? I wanna live here. I don’t wanna live anywhere else.”

“I know,” you giggled, pulling on his arm. The night was full of lights. You hadn’t expected less from Los Angeles. You hadn’t quite been able to find the angels in the sky, though. You kept an eye out for them.

“The world isn’t fair because we’re poor.”Henry walked up to the nearest streetlight and hugged it. “I’m staying here. I’m not leaving.”

You giggled again, stretching your arms as if you were about to break into dance. The air was warm. For the past few days your heart hadn’t been quite so sad.

A car honked nearby, making you jump, and just as you were about to curse a woman shot out of the hotel on your left in a flurry of yellow and blue and nearly smashed into you – “Shit, look where you’re go – “ – brown eyes, gaze terrified, shoes in her hands, cheeks pink and – “Billie?”

She slammed back into your life like the female protagonist of a Hitchcock movie, running from danger in the moonlight with her hair disheveled and her dress billowing in the wind.

“Billie?”

You caught hold of her wrist and tried to meet her gaze. “Are you alright? What – what happened to you? Did somebody hurt you? Are you alright?” You poured questions onto her as if you couldn’t stop. Her eyes focused on you, and she ran a hand through her hair, and let out a nervous laugh.  

And just like that you were done for. For the stars were singing, and your heart was once again. Admiring. Entranced. Alive.

**

“Never again,” Billie groaned into your mouth. She was holding your head firmly between her hands, devouring you, shivering, panting. “Don’t you dare leave me ever again.”

“I love you,” you moaned. You pushed her down on the bed, eyes flashing hungry and predatory as you took in the sight of her, all flushed and ready for you. “Forever.”

And as you dived in you could almost forget the taste of that one lie.

**

“What about love?” the anchorman asked. “Do you think it’s eternal?”

Billie’s smile faltered. “I’m not sure,” she answered slowly.

“Aw, poor chick got her heart broken,” Julie mocked.

“Lemon?” you asked her.

“Uh?”

“Should I put some lemon juice on the salmon?”

“I hope so,” Billie’s voice said. “I’m not sure – but I hope so.”

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 7

A/N- I'm back! At least I think I am 😂 I wrote this while I was struggling with writer's block so I don't think it's great but the next chapter I'm working on I feel back to the old me 🥳🤞

Summary- Are your lies finally going to catch up to you?

Word count- 2.8K

Pairing- Chris Hems x reader x Liam Hems

Warnings- Mature themes, cheating, swearing, smut

Strictly 18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 2nd Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

The Destructive Secret Masterlist <

The guy turned to leave before looking back over his shoulder at the door, his hand on the door handle.

"If it makes any difference I would choose you over your brother any day." He winked as he left the room.

"What the actual fuck." You shout, storming out of the bathroom in a huff. "There's no way he's gunna stay quiet, it'll be all over the press come tomorrow." You paced the room, your heart beating fast as the adrenaline rushed through you. This was it, this was how it was all going to end. Liam would know as soon as he saw the headlines, all those late night and weekend conferences at the same time as Chris was conveniently away with work.

"To be fair, he does have good taste in men." Chris' usual nonchalance annoyed you, how come he could stay so calm? Why did he make you sound like a crazy person for actually worrying about what might happen.

"It's really not funny Chris, do you want our business known by strangers before we even have chance to speak to Liam and your Mom Chris, she's going to hate me." You feel the warm tears dripping down your cheeks before you even register you're crying. The thought of their mom hating you upsets you more than the thought of Liam hating you. Cathy, their mom was like your own mother, from day one she'd taken you under her wing.

"My Mom would love you no matter what, you know she thinks of you as her own daughter. It's me she's going to blame, Liam's her baby." 

"Yeah you're probably right but still what are we gunna do?" 

"Let's relax babe, you don't know what's going to happen and you can't change it if it does happen so what's the use in worrying about it. Come here."

"You piss me off Chris, you're so laid back. This isn't something you can just sweep under the carpet. It's serious." You needed to take your anger out on him, to let it all out so you could feel better. The four walls of the hotel room were becoming claustrophobic, you wish you could just put your headphones on and just run for a while to clear your head, that's what you usually did.

"I know it is but what can we do? I've done everything we can do, now it's out of our hands. We'll work it out tomorrow, can we enjoy our last night together without all the serious talk?" He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that sweet, goofy smile of his that has your heart melting.

"You piss me off even more when you look at me like that. I can't stay mad at you and how could I say no to that?" You put your arms around his back, loving the way his height makes you feel so small and safe. He wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and holding you close.

"That's why I love you yanno." 

"Why?" You ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your neck stretching to reach his height.

"Because you never say no." He laughs, a real laugh that you can feel on his toned stomach, shaking against you. It was the best feeling hearing him laugh like that, it'd been so long since you'd heard him laugh. Your life being full of a lot of drama and upset recently that you were appreciative of the little time you had left together.

"Maybe I should start then." You pout pretending to sulk.

"No way, I love how easy you are." He picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, looking down on him for once. You punch him lightly on his shoulder, still pouting. "Ok, ok I'll stop teasing. You know why I love you though." 

"Tell me." 

He sits down on the end of the bed with you still in his arms, resting on his great big, thick thighs. He moves your hair behind your ears so he can see your face, studying it carefully with a look of adoration in his eyes.

"I love you because you're absolutely drop dead gorgeous, I mean the first time I met you, you literally knocked the air from my lungs. I've been obsessed with you ever since." He shuffles slightly beneath you, getting himself comfy. "This would never have happened with just anyone, I'm not a dick that goes around sleeping with his brothers girls." You give him a questioning look, your eyebrows furrowing. "Seriously, it took fucking everything in me to try and resist you. I'd never felt that before, never been one of them that wants what they can't have. Until I met you. Fuck me you were an absolute bombshell." You frown at him. "Are, still are a bombshell, don't look at me like that." He laughs.

"Tell me more." You whisper, feeling yourself tear up at his revelations as you run your hand through his hair, his eyes closing as you do.

"Am I stroking your ego?" He smiles slyly. "Do you remember the first time you met me?" 

"Of course I do, me and Liam had already been together a year but you'd been in Australia. I was eighteen, young and dumb..."

"And full of..." 

"Do not even finish that sentence, you're ruining the moment." He laughs at you but quickly gets back to being serious.

"You were eighteen and ridiculously mature for your age, I was twenty six and still acted like a teenager. I remember you walking in in that little denim skirt and tank top, smiling at me with that beautiful smile. The first thing I noticed was your eyes, the way they lit up when you smiled. You had me right at that moment, I was smitten. Then you introduced yourself as Liam's girlfriend and my heart sank." 

"I can't believe you remembered what i was wearing, it was twelve years ago." You kiss his forehead, holding his face in your hands. So glad you had the opportunity to talk like this, knowing all this made you know you hadn't made a mistake. "I was so nervous walking up to you, I'd only ever seen you on photos and crushing on you when you were in home and away. Then you're there in front of me looking sexy as hell and I knew I had to make a good impression."

"Little did you know, five years later I'd be bending you over that table and giving you everything you'd been searching for?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk.

"No, dick! Little did I know you'd sweep me off my feet and make me question everything I ever knew." 

"I am a dick but that's why you love me isn't it?"

"Your ego definitely doesn't need stroking. I fell in love with Liam when I was still a girl and I fell in love with you when I was a woman. People change, needs change and..." 

"And I give you everything you need." His hand travelled to your ass pulling you into him, pressing against his growing erection.

"You do, you need to work on your arrogance though." You laugh. "But seriously I'm done with all this now, we can't go on like this anymore. I want all of you, all of the time."

"So you've made your decision." His lips part, his head resting against your forehead.

"Was there ever any doubt?" You question, running your finger over his lip and grinding against him subtly making him groan.

"Fuck Y/N, I fucking love you so much it's crazy." He says through gritted teeth, holding the small of your back as you raise your hips, your face contorting with need. "What would you do if I asked you to marry me?" His hand travelled down the back of your shorts, cupping your ass in his hands.

"What do you think?" You tease, taking his bottom lip in your teeth and pulling gently.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking." His face was set seriously, he wasn't joking, he wanted to marry you.

"Of course I'd say yes, once we'd dealt with everything." You smile watching his face light up.

"You're going to be Mrs Hemsworth and mine, not Liam's. I can't fucking wait." He picks you up, gripping your ass making you squeel before planting you back on the bed on your back.

Leaning over you, his palm caressing your stomach, kneeding your breasts with his long fingers. His erection poking into your clothed heat.

"You're so fucking perfect, are you ready to cause destruction?" 

"Like now, in bed or?..." 

"You know what I mean." He laughs, reaching down to attach his lips to your neck, sucking gently.

"If it means I get you then yeah, I'm ready." 

"Right answer. You've made me the happiest fucking man in the world yanno?" His hand moves under your top, pushing it up to your chin as his lips finally meet yours. Kissing you deeply with everything he's got, your body rising from the bed to meet his.

"I think... I can... Make you even happier." You say between kisses, pushing down his boxers, your nails scratching his skin gently as you do. 

He rests on one elbow watching you free his cock from its barrier. You cup his balls in your hand, stroking along the length of his cock with the other. He groans, pushing himself into your hands.

"I'll be happier once I'm buried inside this perfect pussy." He kneels between your legs, pulling your panties off before hovering back over you.

"Go slow baby, I want to feel everything." You whisper.

"Fuck, I can't guarantee how long I'll last." He moans, lining himself up and slipping in making you both moan as his cock stretches your walls perfectly.

He rests on his elbows, holding your face in his hands as he gently thrusts into you, wrapping your legs around him and pushing him in further, deeper. Hitting your spot with the curl of his hips, agonisingly slowly. You look into each others eyes, his forehead resting against yours. Tears in your eyes from the intense intamacy.

"I love you Y/N." He declares gruffly, his voice deep with lust.

"I love you too." You whimper.

Moaning everytime his thighs connected with yours, flesh slapping together, bringing your hips up to meet him. Him grunting with every thrust, your sex noises filling the otherwise silent room. The sound like a symphony to your ears, turning you on even more to hear his exclamations of ecstacy.

"It's always been you Chris." You whisper, making his pace become sloppy, losing his composure and restraint at your words. You can see it on his face as it twists, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Come for me baby." He grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his body goes rigid.

"Ah fuck." He brings you over the edge with the last of his powerful thrusts, your legs shaking around him, the feeling of satisfaction melting through your body simultaneously. A proud look on his face as you both come together and he falls limply onto your sweat laced body.

You stay like that for a while, both enjoying the moment, his cock still twitching inside of you. The heaviness of his body burying you into the mattress but you don't complain.

You don't want him to move, you want to memorise the feel of his heaviness and how his cock feels inside of you. How his rough face feels against your smooth skin, his hair tickling under your chin. You trace the muscles on his back, the defined shoulders and lean waist. Your hands gripping his tight, round ass and you close your eyes, remembering every dip and ripple, dreading the thought of being without him in your arms for at least another couple of weeks.

"I don't know how I'm going to watch you walk away tomorrow." He rolls on to his side, pulling you into him. "I think that's the hardest thing to deal with out of everything."

"I was just thinking the same thing." You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers brushing against his tight pecs. "You know we've been doing this for nearly 6 years now and I don't think I've ever felt as close to you as I do now. It's going to be even harder for me to leave this time." 

"I don't even want to think about it but we only have hours left together, what's our plan?" 

"You mean when and how do we tell Liam?" You ask sitting cross legged in the bed, reality kicking back in. You have to go home to Liam and leave Chris all over again, back to the lies and sneaking about.

"That and when am I going to be able to see you again? I don't want to wait as long as last time, you know how crazy i start getting when I don't see you." 

"We've got your cousin's wedding next week. I'll see you there." You risk a glance at him, pain set on his face.

"You'll see me but you'll be arm in arm with Liam and I'll be alone again." 

"How about once the weddings over and done with, we can tell Liam about us?" You watch his face change, like a little boy.

"A week? I can do that, I think. But I'm not going to the wedding alone." 

"What do you mean? A date? With who?" Panic laced in your voice.

"I don't know but I'm sure I won't be short of options." 

"Are you fucking with me? Liam thinks you're dating a married woman, where you going to find one of those?" 

"I don't know but I'm not turning up to a family party on my own again, my aunties can be fucking brutal." 

"Well don't expect to playing all happy families and me being all nice." You sulk.

"Are you jealous?" 

"Yeah, duhh."

"Come here." He pulls you into arms wrapping his legs around yours. Comfortable silence drifting over you both as he strokes your hair and you fall asleep in his arms.

***********

You wake up in the morning smiling, then remembering what day it is and that you have to leave to go back to boring reality and your smile fades. Chris stirring beside you, his muscly arm resting over your stomach, locking you in place.

"Chris, wake up." You whisper in his ear, admiring his sleepy, perfect face. "It's 9.30 we've gotta check out at 10." He makes an unrecognisable sound of exasperation, his eyes opening, puffy with sleep or lack of in this case.

"Aww man, can't we just stay in bed a little longer, I don't wanna let you go." 

"You need to go check out first so we don't leave the hotel at the same time." 

"Fuck sake. Back to reality it is then." He says all hint of jokiness gone from his tone as he sits up and rubs his eyes. 

"I'm afraid so, I need to go grab my things. Text me when you've left please." 

"Wow! I feel used, do I not even get a kiss before you run out on me?" 

"I was just dealing with the business before I dealt with the pleasure, like I'd just leave without giving you a kiss." You threw yourself on him, wrapping your legs around him as he leant against the headboard. Taking his lips in yours, open mouthed kisses that left you both breathless.

*****

You packed up the couple of things you'd actually taken out of your pull along suitcase, you'd spent most of the weekend naked or slobbing about in Chris' t-shirts so all your clothes were still folded and packed.

You were anxious about going home to Liam and having to pretend again, having to try and not slip up about where you'd actually been. You literally had to go through possible conversations in your mind, conjuring up imagined answers to Liam's possible questions so you didn't get caught out. It was hard work.

Then you got the text from Chris telling you he was out of the hotel and on the road back home, followed by how much of a good weekend he'd had and how much he loves you.

You couldn't help having a spring to your step as you walked through the lobby, a weekend full of love making and reminiscing would have that effect on anyone.

After you'd checked out, the anxiety set in, like stepping out of this hotel would be like stepping in to an alternate universe. A universe that wasn't simple and easy like it had been this weekend but stepping through those revolving doors would mean that will all end. This safe feeling of being alone, away from prying eyes would end as soon as you stepped foot outside and it did, a ominous feeling sweeping over you, goosebumps covering your flesh. Maybe you conjured up the feeling in your own mind, manifesting it into existence but you couldn't shake it.

A feeling of being watched, was it your imagination or not? You didn't know, all you knew was how much you wanted to get out of public and back home. As you stood in front of the hotel, picking up your suitcase to carry it down the stairs, something caught your eye. A flash. And then another flash coming from your peripheral.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Delicate - The Devil’s Daughter Chapter Nine (Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist], [The Devil’s Daughter-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Amenadiel did not trust you one bit. Why? Well, you were not sure yourself. But you would find out soon. 

Words: 1,464

Warnings: language, angst, I think this chapter is good to go, (Y/E/C) = your eye color, (Y/A) = your age

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Dinner was incredibly uncomfortable. Amenadiel had not stopped staring at you & you desperately wanted the floor to swallow you as a whole. The worst part was that Dan seemed oblivious to everything. You did not even bother engaging in their conversation. Mostly, your eyes trained on the little baby who you found out was named Charlie. He was really sweet. Not like his scary father with his stone cold stare.

“(Y/N)?” it was the first time Amenadiel directed his words at you. You almost choked on your food. Why were you thinking that he would not talk to you? It was bad enough that he made you queasy but him asking you something? Well, you were not necessarily prepared if you were honest.

“Um, yeah?” you had never sounded so ludicrous in your entire existence.

“Can we talk?” his eyes bore into yours. Dan kept eating like nothing was wrong about this situation.

“I guess.” an awkward chuckle left your mouth.

“I mean in private.” his voice was deep. You definitely did not want to mess with him. Eyeing Dan, you found him uninterested. He simply motioned for you guys to go ahead. Okay, what was going on? You had never met this guy before. And he just came waltzing in, demanding to talk to you. It was not really a demand. More like a question with a demanding undertone. Whatever it was, it left you uneasy. Getting up from the table, you gestured for him to follow you. He gave Dan some instructions how to deal with little Charlie & then entered your, or better said Trixie’s, bedroom behind you. The door fell closed & suddenly, you were alone with a stranger. Seemingly no way to escape whatsoever.

“So.” Amenadiel started.

“So.” you breathed out.

“Anything you wanna tell me?” his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Should there be anything?” your head tilted, clearly showing that you had no clue what he wanted from you.

“What are you?”

“Usually, it’s “who” but-“

“No. What are you?” sounded like he was not in the mood for jokes. Truthfully, you were not either but you thought a little sarcasm would ease the tension between you two. When you did not give him an answer, he continued. “I know you aren’t human.” that made you stop in your tracks. (Y/E/C) eyes widened in fear.

“W-What?” you managed to stutter out.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play dumb.” Amenadiel walked over to where you were sitting on the bed. Placing himself beside you but not too close, so there still was a good amount of distance.

“I…I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” by now, your eyes trained on your lap where your hands fiddled to avoid eye contact. It was not like he was a bad person or anything, just the way he talked & about what he talked was not really what you expected from one of Dan’s friends.

“I think you do.” he sighed out. “And if you’re not telling me then I believe we’ll have a problem.”

“Why would there be a problem?” your heartrate picked up its pace & you had no control over it. Your legs bounced & if you did not clench your hands into fists, the trembles would be visible.

“Because I can’t tell if you’re a threat or not.” he was being serious but to you, his statement was hilarious. Hence why you could not hold in a little laughter. Regaining your composure, you locked your eyes with his again.

“Do I look threatening to you?” a little smirk was plastered on your face. Everyone who knew you knew how you would never hurt anyone. Clearly, he thought otherwise.

“Yes.” that caught you off guard. A man like him being afraid of you? You, out of everyone? Did not sound real but whatever. He started speaking again. “As an angel, you can see someone’s true form. I can detect another angel, a demon. But when I look at you…I don’t see anything.” you were too shocked after his revelation of being an angel. That had to be a coincidence, right? He could very well be lying. So why did you believe him when he told you that? Still, you would not let your guard down. Not that easily.

“Isn’t it good when you don’t see anything? Means I’m no demon, right?” whatever you said, it was the wrong thing. Because the man next to you looked amused.

“You kinda gave yourself away with your answer. You weren’t shocked when I said I was an angel.” oh, you were shocked but probably not like a human being would be. “So that brings me to my conclusion that you aren’t human. I’m asking you again…What are you?”

“You know my name, right?” you looked at him expectantly. After a nod from him, you kept going. “Then it should be an easy one for you to put two & two together.” now it was his turn to look confused. Rolling your eyes at him, you explained further. “(Y/N). The big, bad angel nobody wants to get too close to.” your hands gestured exaggeratedly but Ameandiel’s face was still full of confusion.

“I don’t know an angel named (Y/N).” he mumbled it more to himself. “Did father send you?”

“Father? You’re talking about the Big Guy?” your eyes rolled. Of course, if Amenadiel was an angel then it would make God his father. “Trust me, I’d still be up there if it weren’t for me leaving right away.”

“Right away as in you turned (Y/A)?”

“Bingo.” you smiled at him. “Look, Amenadiel…If God sent you to bring me back tell him to stop trying so hard. Because I won’t ever go back.” you grew more & more angry.

“Nobody sent me.” again, it sounded like the truth. “But I’m not lying when I say that I don’t know an angel named (Y/N).” that, on the other hand, sounded like a big fat lie.

“Sure thing.” you laughed. “You’re here to make fun of me then?”

“No, I’m-“ but you interrupted him.

“I can’t believe you…” you whispered while shaking your head. “For (Y/A) years, no other angel gave a single shit about me. I’m leaving heaven & all of a sudden the others care? Or make fun of me? Trust me when I say you’re too late.” you got up from the bed, approaching the door. Yet, you came to a halt the moment your hand touched the doorknob. Shoulders sunk down. If you were honest, you were kind of hurt right now. When Amenadiel started talking again, his voice was much softer.

“I didn’t know you existed. And by the way you’re talking about heaven…it doesn’t sound like you had the best experience.” you scoffed at that. “Though I can only believe you if you show me your wings. You could be a demon, after all.” it was weird for him to meet someone who claimed to be an angel. But only because he could not see your true form. Whatever was going on with you he had never seen before. He had not even known that something like that was possible. That was, of course, if you really were an angel. If not, you could be a threat still. And he would not let you get too close to Charlie if that were the case.

“Forget it.” turning around again, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Then it means you’re a threat.” he pointed out, slowly getting up to walk over to you. When you instinctively took a step back, your body pressing against the closed door, then he came to a halt. You were uncomfortable, he could tell.

“I’m not a threat.” you breathed out through gritted teeth. “It’s not like I don’t wanna show you my wings. It’s more like I can’t.” your head hung low, thinking about the bandage on your back that probably needed to be changed soon.

“And why is that?” you were drained entirely. Like your social battery was empty. Besides, it was probably easier to show him than to explain everything. Grabbing the edges of your shirt, you turned around & lifted it enough to show the bandages. Blood leaked through. Not a lot but still. You flinched when you felt him remove it. He was careful but it was a very vulnerable moment for you. After all, nobody but the archangels & God had seen your wounds & scars before. You heard Ameandiel letting out a shaky breath. How you wished you could see his face, his reaction, right now. It felt like hours before you heard him talking again. And you could only make out his voice because the room had gone entirely silent.

“What did they do to you?”

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/12/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @suffering-canucks-fan, @dad-ee-drea, @xbarrjallenx, @marvelofwitch, @aceofspace95, @julessbrown, @thevelvetseries, @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom, @crumpets-are-better-with-jam, @strangewhovian-blog, @officialfictionalwreck, @peachescream06 (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[typical-simplelove]

Letters From Home - 40s Series (M. Tkachuk)

Summary: Matthew Tkachuk comes home from fighting in World War Two. What happens when his childhood best friend Ruth Blossom is there to welcome him?

Series Masterlist

A/n: Here's the second part! I'm an absolute history nerd, so this is the result. I hope you enjoy!! This part exists in the same universe as the Jacob Markstrom fic that came first.

Warnings: Mentions of war and death

Word Count: 2.2k

It was December 10th, 1945, and Ruth Blossom was at the train station. Well, she wasn’t the only one. It’s been a few months, almost, since the War ended, and Ruth was waiting for her best friend Matthew Tkachuk to come home from the war.

Matthew Tkachuk went off and enlisted the minute war was declared. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Enlisting? Not a question. That was his personality. Always the first to jump up and help.

The train rolled into the station with a stentorian horn and Ruth gripped her purse tighter. Taryn begins fidgeting next to Ruth and she puts an arm on Taryn. Matthew’s arrival was any minute now. There would be no more longing and wishing he were home.

“Hey, he’s coming home. That’s more than some people can say, right?” Ruth tries to cheer up.

Taryn nods. “Brady came home, too, which is good.”

“Yeah, he’ll be okay. It’s going to be back to normal soon.”

Soldiers begin walking off the train and Taryn and Ruth angle their heads to try to find that familiar face. The boyish grin with striking blue eyes. The tall frame made him stand out in any crowd. The Tkachuk family and Ruth knew Matthew had to cut his mop of curls as a part of military regulation. Would they be able to recognize him?”

“Ruth,” someone calls from behind. Ruth turns around and sees his face. She breaks out into a large smile. “Hey, sunshine.”

“Matthew!” Ruth exclaims and runs into his arms. Matthew removes his army cap and wraps his arms around Ruth. He breathes in her calming scent that he remembers from all that time ago. Matthew’s family turns to see the commotion. They knew that Matthew was going to go to Ruth first. She was what kept him alive. “How did you get behind us?”

“I’m not telling; I saw an opportunity and had to go for it.”

“Of course. Well, for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re home. Now, go and greet your family.”

“Do I have to, sunshine?”

Ruth laughs. “Yes.”

Matthew sighs and walks over to his family. He would never stop wanting to come home to Ruth. After greeting his family, Matthew and his family walk over to the Tkachuk house. They were a short ten-minute walk from the train station.

Matthew takes Ruth’s hand and they walk behind Taryn, Chantal, Keith, and Brady.

“So, tell me, did you fall in love with any airmen while I was gone?” Matthew jokes. He was joking but he also wanted to know. Those airmen can be scoundrels. It definitely also isn’t because Matthew wants to know if Ruth is seeing anyone.

“Of course not. I heeded your warnings. If I’m going to fall in love with a military man, then it'll be an army man like yourself.” Or you.

“Well, be careful, army men can still be heartbreakers.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” Ruth says with a wink that makes Matthew’s face turn red.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Matthew begins. “For always writing me. It really helped me out.”

“Oh Matthew, don’t be silly. I would have written you daily if it weren’t for the taxes and working towards making munitions.”

“Doesn’t matter, it helped me.” Ruth can’t help but smile.

Ruth and Matthew continue walking along and make small talk. They talk about the local gossip, the weather, and what Matthew was excited to do now that he’s home. The group finally reached the white picket fence of the Tkachuk house. Matthew is about to lead Ruth in but she lets go of his hand.

“Sunshine, come on.”

“No, no. Matthew, you catch up with your family. Stop by my family’s house later on and I’ll make you some lemonade and we can catch up.”

“Ruth, come on, just come in.”

“Matthew, just go be with your family. Stop by later, okay?” Ruth flashes Matthew an easy grin and he won’t argue anymore.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll stop by later this evening for your famous lemonade, okay?”

“I’ll be counting on it,” Ruth says with a wink. “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Tkachuk!” They back but are puzzled as to why she's already leaving.

“When are you going to tell her how much you love her?” Taryn asks when they all walk in and Ruth is out of earshot. “She never danced with anyone, ever, while you were gone. She said it wouldn’t be fair to you as you were always her dance partner.”

“I didn’t dance with any of the girls in England, either. She’s my lifetime dancer partner.”

“Matthew, sweetheart, we’re glad you’re home but if you want to go be with Ruth, go with her,” Chantal says.

“No, no, she’d probably scold me. Ruth told me to stay and be with you. I’m going by tonight for her famous lemonade.”

“Make sure you tell her,” Chantal insists.

“I will,” Matthew says with a forlorn sigh.

. . .

Dearest Matthew,

Let me start this letter as I always do. Despite the circumstances, how are you? I hope you’re eating your fair ration of the army-regulated food. I hope the weather isn’t too dreadful and you’re able to have as much sleep as allowed. How are your friends? Johnny? Elias? He’s getting married, right? Sam? Jacob? I hope they are all doing well. Send them my happiest wishes.

Brady wrote home the other day. Taryn asked me to pass on the message to you. He’s doing well. Nothing new to report. That’s good, right?

Let me tell you some good news! I’ve gotten a job to work and make munitions for the army. It’s possible that the bullets I make might be sent to you! I’m not sure where they go but imagine, wouldn’t that be beautiful for you to use a St. Louis made bullet? That’s probably more romantic when the bullets aren’t being fired at me. Ignore that.

Oh! My victory garden is growing so beautifully! My tomatoes have come in nicely and they taste amazing! I’ve been helping Taryn with her victory garden and I think she has me beat. Only though, because I’ve been helping her! Don’t tell her I said that. What should I plant next? I have a few ideas. What about an orange tree? We may not be in Florida but wouldn’t that be exciting? What about peas? Or carrots? Oh, broccoli? What do you think? Whatever you say, I’ll try to find the seeds and grow the plants. I’ll even name them after you. Matthew the Broccoli Stalk. Matthew the Orange. Matthew the Carrot. Matthew the Stalk of Kale. I like to think I’m funny. I’m not. I genuinely don’t know why you put up with me sometimes. I guess what they say is true, friends since childhood? Friends forever.

I have some gossip to share. Do you remember Cathy from middle school? She is engaged to be married to Roger. Yes, you’re thinking the right, Roger. Roger, star batter at the high school baseball team. Cathy the loud, mean girl who constantly made fun of Roger. Apparently, Cathy has had a change of heart and apologized for her actions. This led to them falling in love and now they are engaged! I heard Roger was in the Navy and sailing on a ship around Great Britain. Do you think Cathy is going to go on a full apology tour and apologize to you and me? I would love to get an apology from her. My goodness, the number of things she did to me growing up? Matthew, I’m still bitter about it. I absolutely still can’t stand the thought of her. It’s probably better if she doesn’t even come near me. I’d probably want to run away crying. Do you think she’ll invite us to the wedding? I hope not. If she does, will you be my date? The pact we made at ten still stands right? We will forever be each other’s dates to weddings, right? What about the pact at twelve? We will forever be each other’s dance partners? Obviously, I’m not going to hold you accountable for that one. If you want to dance with some other girl, do so! You deserve to relax and unwind. Just know, I’m only dancing with you forever and ever.

I’m sending you all the love in the world.

Love, your sunshine,

Ruth

Matthew never danced with anyone whilst in Europe. Only Ruth. he only would ever dance with Ruth. She was it for Matthew. He was going to tell her. Matthew Tkachuk was going to tell Ruth Blossom that he loved her. Matthew puts on his army cap and heads out the door to Ruth’s house.

He knocks on the door and is met with Ruth’s father.

“Matthew, son, welcome home,” he says.

“Mr. Blossom, thank you. It feels good to be back.” Matthew says. Was Mr. Blossom going to welcome Matthew into the house?

“Before you go in, I want to talk to you about Ruth.”

“Yes, sir, I’d love to talk to you about Ruth,” Matthew says and immediately cringes. That was the wrong thing to say.

“I want to know what your intentions are with her,” Mr. Blossom says, and Matthew pales.

“Well, if your daughter will have me, then I’d like to marry her. I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember and her letters are what kept me going. Sir, I love Ruth and I would love to spend the rest of my days with her.”

Mr. Blossom nods. He seemed to be content with this answer. “Well then,” Mr. Blossom puts his hand out and shakes Matthew’s hand. “Ruth’s outback. She’s waiting for you.”

Matthew smiles and walks around the house. He sees Ruth sitting on the back porch and smiles. This was the homecoming that Matthew dreamt of every night whilst overseas.

“Ruth,” Matthew says softly. “Sunshine.”

Ruth breaks out into a large smile. “Matthew.”

“Good evening, as promised, I’m here.”

“As I promised, I have my famous lemonade. The lemons I used are from my victory garden I was telling you about!”

Matthew smiles at the memory of opening all of Ruth’s letters and it smells like home. He loved receiving those letters. Mostly, he just loved Ruth.

“Come, come, let’s sit and drink the lemonade. I also made a key lime pie. It’s citrus night, I guess. My parents already took their pieces so there’s already some taken out of it.” Ruth says brightly. This was exactly what she wanted. To be home with Matthew and in a domestic setting. She loved Matthew so much it hurt.

The pair sat down and Matthew sat down and began sipping the lemonade. He sighs in content. “This is the homecoming that I was waiting for.”

“Oh yeah, you dreamt of the lemonade?” Ruth teases.

“Oh Ruth, that’s not what I meant,” Matthew says. He was referring to being here with Ruth; Matthew dreamt of the days that he’d be able to sit on a back porch with Ruth and just be in her presence.

“Being with your family, then? I can imagine that homecoming was worth dreaming about.”

“They count but why do I need them when I have everything I love right in front of me?” Matthew says with a serious tone.

Ruth’s smile fades. “What?”

“I love you, Ruth, and not just in a friend way. I love you in the sense that I want to marry you and have a family with you. Ruth, you were my homecoming. The rest of the world faded away when I saw you on the platform. Ruth, I love you and I want to marry you one day.”

Ruth’s smile grows wide. “I love you, too. I want all that with you, too, Matthew.”

“Yeah, sunshine? You and me forever?” Matthew says as he walks closer to Ruth.

“Yes, my dear. You and me forever,” Ruth says.

“My dear? I could get used to that, my love.”

“Well, I like my love.”

“In that case, my love, sunshine, may I kiss you?”

“Yes, my dear. You may kiss me.” Matthew leans down and places a soft kiss on Ruth. He was mindful to keep the kiss proper as Mr. and Mrs. Blossom were still in the house.

Matthew wanted to pull the ring out from his pocket and propose right then and there. However, there was a time and place for everything. Tonight? The homecoming. One day, Matthew will tell Ruth how much her letters from home kept him going. One day, Matthew will get his forever with the woman he loves. One day, the letters from home will be the story Matthew and Ruth tell their children. For now, though, Matthew and Ruth are going to soak in the homecoming and the newfound love.

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @beauvibaby @boqvistsbabe @rmaye @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 (Join my taglist here!)

[lilyvandersteen]

The Christmas Guest Chapter 9

Author’s Note: Are you ready for some Klaine kisses? I’m sure you are, so enjoy :-)

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 9: Kisses

Kurt woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night when all of a sudden, he went from toasty warm to cold. Where was that duvet? Oh, there it was!

Kurt tucked it close around and underneath him and tried to nod off again. He’d almost succeeded when the duvet was cruelly snatched loose again and a pillar of ice - or was it a boulder of granite? - was shoved against his back. He shivered and tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Gradually, the stone slab warmed up and softened around him, but not before he’d woken up enough to realize it was actually Blaine’s body. Why he’d ventured out of bed at such an ungodly hour was anybody’s guess, and Kurt hoped he’d make no more such excursions. He wanted to sleep at night, damn it, and preferably until he felt fully rested, thank you very much.

He tried to slip back into sleep, but now he felt too disgruntled and keyed up to manage that. He stayed still and tried to empty his mind. That wasn’t easy, because he was hyperaware of Blaine’s presence – his chest pressed against Kurt’s back, his legs entwined with Kurt’s, his arm slung over Kurt’s waist, his warm hand on top of Kurt’s and his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing pattern.

And then Kurt let out a wordless gasp, because… was that really a love declaration he’d just heard from Blaine? Surely, that was Blaine being sleep-drunk and not realizing whom exactly he was in bed with, right? Right?

Blaine seemed to fall asleep right after that, but Kurt lay awake staring at the ceiling until he heard Carole get up, and decided to go downstairs too. Might as well make a nice Christmas breakfast for everybody, now that he couldn’t sleep anyway.

Carole looked surprised when he entered the kitchen, and then worried. “Are you okay, honey? Is your throat troubling you again?”

Kurt shook his head and helped himself to coffee. “Just couldn’t sleep anymore, so I came here to do some baking.”

By the time Blaine showed up, Finn had already had three helpings of French toast and was pestering Kurt to take his Christstollen out of the oven already so that he could have a slice. “Mom won’t let me have more French toast, ‘cause Blaine hasn’t had any yet.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, and ignored him as much as he could.

Blaine seemed uncomfortable when the time came to exchange Christmas presents, but cheered up when he remembered he had gifts in his luggage that were apparently generic enough to work just as well for the Hudmel family as they would have for the Andersons.

Looking up from the gifts he’d just unpacked, Kurt saw Blaine hug Carole and beam with pride when she thanked him. His father seemed just as pleased, inspecting a set of… were those beer glasses?

As Carole had remarked before, Blaine seemed part of the family already. Kurt could so easily imagine a life with Blaine always by his side from now on. So clearly that it hurt to realize this might be snatched away from him as soon as their break was over and they had to head back to New York.

Kurt got a lump in his throat, and his eyes pricked. Once again, he found himself wishing that someway, somehow, they could untangle the mess they’d made of things and turn this into something real.

K & B

New Year’s Eve arrived, and though Kurt was looking forward to seeing his friends again, he was nervous as well. Rachel, he could deal with, but he hoped Mercedes would react well. She might be just as angry as Rachel that he hadn’t told her about Blaine yet. They hadn’t talked in several months, but still. And Santana was sure to be a nightmare. He hoped she wouldn’t scare Blaine off by asking him all sorts of invasive questions.

As usual when he felt stressed, he avoided everyone else in the house, and spent far more time choosing his outfit and getting ready than he otherwise would. He didn’t leave the sanctuary of his room until Finn threatened to leave without him.

At least all the prepping and fussing about his appearance hadn’t been for nothing. Blaine was gaping at him, struck speechless with admiration.

Well, that made Kurt feel much better already, so much that he didn’t even roll his eyes at his father’s loud warnings and instructions before they left.

When they arrived at the party, Rachel lit into Kurt at once, letting him have it for keeping silent about Blaine. After living with her for so long, Kurt knew Rachel inside out, and won the argument deftly, without so much as raising his voice.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he introduced Rachel to the newcomers, and then led the way to the makeshift bar, on high alert when he spotted Santana there.

He braced himself for crude remarks, but she let them go with barely an innuendo. He might have guessed she had other mischief on her mind, like tampering with their drinks. When Blaine pointed out she’d spiked them, Kurt felt his temper flare up, but he knew a confrontation with Santana never ended well for her opponent, so he just took a deep breath and slipped away to the kitchen for three soda cans.

Mercedes waylaid him as he was heading back. As he’d guessed, she wasn’t too pleased at being left out of the loop. Kurt weaseled out of that by telling her he had waited until he was sure Blaine was there to stay. “Every time I tell you I have met someone new, I’m always convinced it’s going well, and then after three dates, I find out they’re only in it for the hooking up. And I feel so ashamed, you know? So this time, I wanted to be sure this was going to last.”

Mercedes’ glower disappeared, and a thoughtful look replaced it. “And you think it is? You must, or you would never have taken him to meet your dad.”

Kurt nodded, and before he knew it, he was talking his friend’s ear off about Blaine, telling her how sweet and caring he was, how beautifully he sang, and how he had charmed everyone in the Hudmel household in two seconds flat. “He’s… He’s amazing, ‘Cedes. I… I could see myself marrying him. Not that… I know it’s way too early to be thinking along those lines, I know, but…”

Mercedes grinned. “Aww, someone’s smitten.”

Kurt bit his lip. There was no denying that, unfortunately.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, boo. You deserve this. But he better treat you right, or I’ll rip him a new one.”

Kurt sneaked a look in Blaine’s direction, and saw to his horror that he was being interrogated by Tina.

Uh-oh, I need to go rescue him!

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Startled, he whipped his head around, and saw Mercedes fake-pout at him.

“Sorry, ‘Cedes. You were saying?”

Mercedes shook her head, smiling. “We’ll talk later. You go and get back to your sweetheart.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice, and hurried to the love seat where Blaine was sitting. To his relief, Blaine was holding his own, telling Tina their fake meet cute story with relish, his eyes shining.

Kurt grinned happily and took over, pleased at how Tina lapped it all up.

When the story came to its end, Kurt saw Tina’s eyes flitting to Cathy, who was sitting next to them. Finn was nowhere near, and Cathy seemed very ill at ease.

Making a mental note to berate Finn for abandoning his girlfriend at a party where she knew practically no-one, Kurt turned the conversation to Tina, and she was only too happy to catch him up.

Mercedes joined them, and Kurt forgot about anything and anyone else as he chatted with her. It had been ages since their last phone call, and even longer since they’d seen each other in person, but their friendship was such that they could pick up where they had left off as if no time had passed at all.

Kurt was so focused on Mercedes that he was startled when Blaine asked him something.

Oh! Blaine! Oh wow, so much for berating Finn… I’m just as bad as he is! No, even worse. I’m forgetting all about Blaine while sitting on his lap!

And what was that Blaine was saying?

Mercedes cottoned on faster than Kurt, and announced for the whole room that Kurt and Blaine were going to sing together.

What?!

Before Kurt knew it, Blaine was tugging him along to the karaoke stage. He felt off balance both mentally and physically, stumbling over his feet and not feeling at all ready to sing.

Blaine, instead of giving Kurt a minute to compose himself, laughed away his concerns, and then, just when Kurt was about to lose his temper, Blaine gave him a sweet kiss on the hand and a smile so sunny that it warmed him from within and made his anger melt away.

Okay, okay. I can do this. I can.

They chose a karaoke classic Kurt had sung before, and he was pleased to note that their voices blended extremely well. In that respect, too, Blaine was a great match.

Kurt beamed at Blaine when the song came to its end, feeling invigorated.

It took only one moment – and one infuriating friend – to ruin his mood. Rachel came to congratulate them, and in the same breath, she demanded to sing with Blaine too.

Blaine, as accommodating as ever, seemed willing to duet with Rachel, but Kurt wasn’t having any of it.

Too long had Rachel swooped in and taken everything Kurt had his eye on. Not this time. No.

He sent Rachel a death glare, and with a loud “No!”, he grabbed Blaine’s hand and led him away from her, his blood thrumming “Mine” with every step he took.

And then suddenly Santana was there blocking their way and taunting him, and Kurt’s frustration with this whole situation reached its boiling point, and he shouted at her to leave them alone.

Seconds later, he regretted his outburst, but the damage was done. Santana narrowed her eyes and smirked and started making insinuations, and he was so sick of this. It turned out being teased about your relationship wasn’t much fun when there was no actual relationship to make up for the teasing. Nothing but a sweet guy who went along with pretty much anything people asked of him. Not just Kurt, and he would do well to remember that. They’d established some kind of friendship, yes, but that was all.

Suddenly, he felt bone-weary, and his response was lackluster. How soon after midnight was too soon to leave a New Year’s party, anyway?

He turned to Blaine to tell him he was tired and wanted to go home, but before he could get the first word out, Blaine gave him an intense look, cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle peck on the lips. Blaine’s kiss was deep and heady from the start, as if he wanted to tap into Kurt’s very essence.

Kurt, reeling inside, grabbed onto Blaine like a lifeline, because his legs felt like rubber all of a sudden, and his head was all woozy.

Wow. So that’s what kisses are supposed to be about. I’ve been missing out.

As soon as he’d gotten over his initial surprise, Kurt got with the program and started kissing back, winding his arms around Blaine’s middle, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

He would gladly have kissed Blaine the whole night through, but reality intervened, in the form of a very drunk Quinn bumping into him and jolting him out of his kiss-induced haze.

“Sorry,” she slurred, but Kurt paid more attention to the countdown going on. “Six! Five!”

So it wasn’t New Year yet? Then why had Blaine kissed him all of a sudden?

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!”

Everyone around them cheered, and Blaine moved in for another kiss, this one soft and sweet.

“Happy New Year,” Blaine whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

Kurt hoped his face didn’t show all the questions that were running through his head. They still had appearances to keep up, after all. They could discuss this when they were back in his bedroom.

Blaine gave Kurt a soft smile and moved in to nuzzle and kiss his neck.

Ooh, that feels good!

Kurt’s eyes snapped shut of his own accord, and he threw his head back to allow Blaine better access.

Moments later, a voice broke through the thick haze of arousal.

“Ugh, take your soft porn somewhere we don’t have to see it!”

Santana. Apparently, she hadn’t left when they started kissing.

Kurt opened his eyes to tell her she’d done worse with Brittany right in front of him, but before he could speak, someone else said, “Speak for yourself, San. I’m enjoying the show, boys, don’t stop!”

Quinn! Behind her, Sugar, Rachel, Tina and Mercedes were grinning and nodding, and even Puck looked intrigued. The only one who looked slightly nauseated was Finn, but Cathy was beaming at Kurt and winking.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Kurt announced. “Finn, Cathy, are you coming with us or do you want to stay a bit longer?”

The four of them walked home in silence. Kurt’s head was still overflowing with questions, but he didn’t want Finn to overhear anything, so he kept them all inside.

He shivered in the crisp winter night, and Blaine immediately slung an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“Better?”

“Much.”

And it was. Kurt happily basked in the body heat Blaine provided, and looked forward to having Blaine warm his icy feet in bed.

They snuck in silently. Finn had clearly decided that if Blaine could sleep over, then so could Cathy. Finn threw Kurt a defiant look, daring him to say something, but seemed only fair to Kurt, so all he said was “Goodnight” before he led Blaine upstairs.

They undressed in silence, and it wasn’t until they were snug in bed, Kurt soaking up Blaine’s heat greedily, that they spoke. Both at the same time.

“Why did you kiss me?”/ “Sorry for kissing you without asking first.”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. In the moonlight, his expression was serious, and his eyes soft and pleading.

“I… didn’t mind. I just wondered… Why?”

Blaine ducked his head. “Santana was… I thought… It seemed like a good idea at the time. To allay suspicions.”

Kurt digested this. “So it was just for show?”

Blaine swallowed before he answered, his Adam’s apple going up and down, and then he shook his head.

With bated breath, Kurt waited for him to say something more.

“I like you, okay?” Blaine then whisper-shouted. “I know we got thrown into this by a misunderstanding, and we’re not really boyfriends, but I would like to. You’re amazing, Kurt. And these past few day have shown me that we click really well. Do you think… Would you want to…?”

And then it was Kurt moving in for a kiss, clumsy and off-center and full of teeth because they were both grinning into it.

“Yes. Yes yes yes, please. Let’s try this for real.”

[seasonsofeverlark]

you & I (just meant to be)

Author: @rosegardeninwinter​

Prompt: This silly, silly ditty was inspired by two (count ‘em! two!) lovely prompts which are as follows “Peeta can’t stop staring at Katniss in her costume :0” and “Everlark meeting at a fancy dress party dressed as a ‘matching’ pair, although they don’t each other - maybe a famous couple but who don’t need the other … Joker and Harley Quinn, Batman and Robin or my favorite: Anna and Elsa from Frozen … Peeta would make a wonderful Anna” - I thought these two went well together, and took a couple of creative liberties to make them jive. Hope you lovelies like! [submitted by @deardiaryithinkiamaghost​ and @wendywobbles​]

Rating: T, for implied Everlark shenanigans 

Author’s Note: Thank you to my dear @archersandsunsets​ for her second pair of eyes on this one and to all the lovely moderators and coordinators of @seasonsofeverlark​, the true MVPs. It’s been a busy month, so I apologize for any incoherence. Sometimes, the heart just wants goofy modern AU fluff. Alrighty, Chatty Cathy is done … enjoy! 

____________

“Katniss, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Prim exclaims, though it sounds pretty pathetic with her congested, pinked nose. “You make the perfect ice queen!” 

“I don’t think that’s usually a compliment,” Katniss says dourly, plopping down on the couch where her sister is situated with several fuzzy blankets, a box of tissues, and a large bowl of ice cream. She can’t taste it very well, but it’s the spirit of the thing that counts. Prim is in denial. 

“I wish I could go,” she whines, holding the “o” in a long, dramatic note. 

“I wish I could stay,” Katniss shoots back, holding the “ay” just as long. 

“No you don’t,” Prim shoos. “You love our friends.” 

“I do,” Katniss sighs, plucking at the silver sequined sleeves of her—well, Prim’s—Elsa costume. It’s too long on Katniss, with her sister’s good half inch on her, but it’s all they’ve got. Her original plan was to pull the classic black top and pants plus cat ears, but when it became apparent Prim wasn’t budging from the couch this Halloween, the real snowy blonde princess of the family had insisted Katniss take her outfit. 

“You can’t show up to Finnick’s in a slapdash, last second costume, Katniss,” she’d said. “The man lives for Halloween. Don’t insult his extravagance with plastic headbands and tails.” 

“I do love our friends, but … I don’t want to go out tonight. I’m tired.”

“Just half an hour,” Prim says. “Snag me some candy, make some pleasantries” — “okay, Jane Bennet” —  “and then come home. At least one of us needs to show up. Just pretend to have a social life for thirty minutes, okay? For me.” 

Katniss rolls her eyes as she gets up from the couch in a twinkling of blue overlay and snowflake hair pins in her braid. She does a quick once over of her shadowy makeup in the hallway mirror as she grabs her car keys. “What do you want?” 

“Chocolate. Anything with chocolate and peanut butter. I’ll save it for when I can experience taste again,” Prim calls back. “Oh, and if Delly’s cousin is there, all of the cupcakes he brought.”

“Mmkay. All the chocolate and cupcakes, coming right up,” Katniss says with a resigned smile. On her way out, she clicks on her phone. It’s just now eight. She resolves to be firmly ensconced in bed by nine at the latest. She gives her sister a wave, keys jangling. “I’ll be back. Soon.” 

At ten thirty, Prim looks up from her Harry Potter induced doze to find she’s received a text from her sister. 

Staying a little later. Fifteen minutes maybe. Have the treats.  

Prim checks the time stamp. The text was sent forty five minutes ago. This might be cause for alarm were it not for the text underneath Katniss’s, from Finnick. It’s a photo, taken in front of a makeshift photo op with purple and silver and orange streamers in the background and cutesy little bat and pumpkin and vampire fang cardboard props for people to hold up. It’s captioned “You can’t marry a man you just met!” 

Prim brings her hand to her mouth to catch a laugh before it turns into a cough. Her sister, Elsa costume sparkling in the flash, is pretending to shake her finger disapprovingly at her “Anna” counterpart. The laugh breaks free this time. Prim grabs for her tepid tea to soothe her throat as she cracks up over the really incredible image of Peeta Mellark, Delly Cartwright’s stocky older cousin, in a red braided wig, and strikingly accurate green rosemaled gown, sitting quite comfortably, if amusingly, over his athletic build. He’s pretending to gripe back at Katniss about why exactly he can marry Hans of the Southern Isles. Their mock scowls barely contain smiles. 

Prim quickly fires a text back to Finnick: How??? Did that happen??? 

Finnick’s text comes through a second later: The Lord works in mysterious ways! Idk!

Okay but like?? Yes??

I know!!!!

Some people are worth melting for???? 

Her cold never bothered him anyway? *finger guns*

Omg. 

Katniss arrives back at the house at five to midnight, and Prim pretends to be asleep, watching with one eye cracked half open as her sister unstraps her silver heels and dumps them by the front door, drops her keys into the bowl. Sets down a full bag of what Prim can only guess are cupcakes and sweets. 

She’s humming under her breath. It sounds like the chorus of “Love is an Open Door.” Prim wonders if it’s possible that her folk and indie music loving sister actually listened to a Disney album on the way home. Katniss unbraids her hair and shakes it loose, dropping the pins on the side table as she sinks into the squashy chair kitty-corner to Prim’s couch. She curls up, knees to chest, making her look like some sort of ice mermaid as she takes out her phone and taps something on it, still humming. Prim watches her chew her cheek pensively, as if deciding to send the text. She takes a deep breath and taps one final time on the screen, then drums her phone nervously against her lips for a moment. Prim’s nerves are firing with anticipation. 

They wait a silent minute. Two. Three. Three and a half — 

Katniss’s screen lights up again and she flips the phone up to stare at the reply. Her whole face softens. Eyes, brow, edges of her mouth. Katniss bites her lip and closes her eyes, letting her head fall back onto the chair cushion with a contented sigh. “‘You know what’s crazy?’” she sing-songs in a mumble under her breath. “‘We finish each other’s sandwiches … I’ve never met someone who thinks so much like …” She yawns. “Me.” 

“You know,” Prim says, and Katniss shrieks, sending her phone flying to the carpet, “Peeta Mellark strikes me more as a Kristoff than a Hans.” 

“Prim!” Katniss yelps, going red. “Wha — what? What do you mean?” 

“So we’re done with stupid plastic cat ears for Halloween then I take it?”

[the very next Halloween] 

“Whoa. Okay.” Peeta sits up from the pile of cushions at the head of their bed, eyes wide and staring in approval, pupils gone dark. “Katniss Everdeen in cat ears is not something I knew I needed until this moment.” 

“Oh sure,” Katniss laughs. “Because it’s definitely the cat ears that are doing it for you. Not these.” She hoists one stockinged leg up onto the bed like a mountain climber posing for a magazine. 

“Well, those are certainly part of the appeal,” he teases, reaching for her leg, running his hands up and down the silk tights. “As is this lovely number.” He toys with the hem of her dress, a strapless black velvet thing that falls just above her knee. “Where’s this from?”

“Jo,” Katniss sighs. “She says if I’m going to be a cat, I need to be a Gretchen Wieners level cat.” 

“For whose benefit, I wonder?” Peeta muses, cheek nuzzling gently at her lower thigh. 

“You wonder?” Katniss laughs, taking her leg away and flopping onto the bed. She glances over at him, eyes sly and somehow soft at once. “I don’t.” 

“I can’t help thinking,” he muses. “that this is something of a counterproductive plan on Jo’s part. Because now, I have a sudden and distinct interest in staying in tonight.” 

“Oh?” Katniss raises a come hither eyebrow and pushes up on her elbows to accept the kiss he plants on her lips as he crawls over her, urging her back to the headboard. “Is it the cat ears?” She reaches up to give the (already molting) plastic and faux fur ears a flick. 

“The Kat ears,” he says. He nips softly at her real ear and she shivers. “The Kat nose.” He kisses that too. His nose nudges her head back, inclining her neck at the perfect angle for him to plant a stretch of kisses down it. “The Kat neck.” His mouth wanders down the front of her dress and he scoots down the bed with it. “The Kat’s cradle.”

“You have that,” she says, hiking her legs up to hug around his middle because her arms can’t reach to hold him. “You’ll always have that.” 

“A piece of that Kit Kat bar.” He kisses her stomach. “The whole Kit and Caboodle,” he teases and she laughs loudly, but on a dime his tone is changing, from silly and playful into husky and dangerous, as he moves lower. “Kitten,” he murmurs and her fingers curl in the bedsheets at the name. “Grab my phone,” he tells her, hooking his fingers around the band of her tights, “Tell Finnick we’re going to be late.” 

An hour or so later finds the cat ears lost somewhere among the remains of their costumes and a hasty snack of pepperoni rolls cooking in the convection oven. Peeta, festooned in boxers and an old apron, presides over the food like it needs a baker’s supervision. Katniss perches on the counter, wrapped chest to toes in the white sheet she pulled from their bed, feet batting absently at the cabinets. 

“This is a good look too,” he tells her, gesturing with the salad tongs he’s using to handle the pepperoni rolls. 

“What is? This sheet?” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of sexy ghost.” 

“Or sexy Roman senator,” she laughs, tossing one edge of the sheet over a bare shoulder. “Sexy Julius Caesar.”

“You’d make a good Julius Caesar,” he says. 

“Why?”

“You’ve got that “came, saw, conquered” vibe. Least that’s how I felt that night at Finnick’s party.”

“Conquered?” 

“I was gonna say seen, but — yes. Conquered too. I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He snaps his fingers. “Sexy ice queen? Definitely.” 

“I’m not exactly sure what kind of Freudian analysis one could make on falling in love with the guy dressed as your fictional sister but — ”

Peeta shrugs as the timer beeps, and he sets to fishing the pepperoni rolls onto a plate for them to share. “I choose to think of it as a metaphor for how the two people you love most in the world are your real, actual sister …” He sets the rolls beside her on the counter and sets his hands gently on her sides. She lets the sheet fall and pool slightly around her waist to cup his face as he leans in to kiss her forehead, very gently, thumbs rubbing circles on her hips. “And some loser who has the luck of … oh, I guess having the same first initial and hair color as she does,” he jokes. 

“And the same beautiful heart,” Katniss corrects in a whisper. “I mean that.” She’s rarely so sentimental to anyone except him. She smirks. “And I haven’t even started drinking yet.” 

“Well, my pretty kitty,” he starts, wrapping both his arms around her middle and hoisting her off the counter. She rolls her eyes, even as her hands card through his hair. “The night is still young.”