#im visiting ireland next year

[brella-boi]

22!

Favourite place you visited this year?

Gods that is a rough question. This was the year of my first independent travels actually! And I learned that I quite enjoy it! So long theres someone on the other side of the airport to meet me lol

Though itd be hard to decide tbh! I didn't visit any dream places (maybe I should plan a visit to Iceland next year...) However I did meet my so many of my internet friends and went to cons etc

(im counting last december) Trip to Florida- the first trip to america from anyone in our immediate family. And on my own too! That was an insane cultural difference.

Trip to Amsterdam- Netherlands. To meet two of my oldest internet pals. This trip couldve gone at least 60% better. (Points at my aro comic)

Trip to Birmingham - UK for a furry con. Incredible experience Im going again next year and Im going to build Dango for it.

A trip around all of Italy. Ive been to Italy before but this was our family holiday. Only downside of that one is that I was still working full time.

Other travels were around Ireland for various conventions. And I do have to say, that being isolated most of the time, going to a con and meeting like minded people has not only boosted my morale but also gave me the strength to keep going really.

So Im giving an honorary mention to Q-con in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Where I crashed and tabled with @blossom-beast surrounded by so many amazing and talented people that it felt too good to be true.

[ingrid-marie]

My Eurovision 2023 Ranking

🌟It's timeeee🌟

🤬BAD🤬

37. SAN MARINO: I’m sorry but “I can smell you like an animal”......WHAT. I literally have no other comment. Also the audience is completely dead and that’s pretty telling lol.

36. ICELAND: This is so boring to me, there is literally nothing special about it. The more I listen to it the more I dislike it (I’m so sorry for the tone Diljá I'm sure you're lovely!!!! I just don't like your song)

35. BELGIUM: I’m sorry but my dislike for this song is sooo strong lol. It reminds me of early 00’s but not in a fun, nostalgic way. There’s just not much for me in this song.

😐OK😐

34: SWITZERLAND: Switzerland just can’t stop sending boys singing ballads lol. Sometimes they hit (Gjon's tears my beloved) and sometimes they don’t, which is the case this year. Good vocals but such a boring song.

33: ALBANIA: This is not my thing, but I appreciate the ethnic elements.

32: MOLDOVA: Cool ethnic elements but this is not something I listen to, at all. I really wish I liked this more than I do.

31: POLAND: In a year filled with many girlbosses girlslaying, this girlboss is sadly girlslaying the least (well, maybe Iceland is worse). And the music video is somehow giving me 2014 American YouTuber (?) vibes to me, in a bad way lol. But it is catchy, so there's that.

30: IRELAND: This is sooooo safe and generic. I like the pre-chorus but other than that this feels so boring. Come on Ireland, send something interesting for once.

29: PORTUGAL: I love a good traditional song, but this just isn’t really my thing. But Portuguese is so beautiful.

28: ISRAEL: Im sorry but I CAN'T take a song with the lyric “I got the power of a unicorn” seriously. Also I feel like I’ve heard a song like this on the Eurovision stage many many times. Let’s just hope they won’t bring out the unicorn/centaur hybrid on stage…

27: AUSTRALIA: This is fun! Is it good? That can be discussed. And what’s with the lyrics? Are we playing never have I ever?

26: FRANCE: I saw a comment somewhere saying that France sends the same song every year, and you know what? They are right (except last year Alvan & Ahez ily). I skip this song pretty much every time it comes on my esc playlist. I just find it boooring. Good vocals though.

25: GEORGIA: The chorus is good, the verses are bad. Just doesn’t stand out to me. Good vocals though. I miss Circus Mircus so much💔

🙂GOOD🙂

24: ROMANIA: I hate to say it, but this song is catchy as hell. Some parts of the song are actually really good and some are terrible lol (like that high note I desperately wish he could hit).

23: UNITED KINGDOM: At first listen I really liked this but after a few listens I found it pretty boring, especially after the first chorus, I just want to skip to the next song. It’s a good song but doesn’t really excite me nor does it stand out.

22: SWEDEN: Not me putting Loreen so low🤭 But this is… underwhelming. I like the chorus and her vocals are amazing, but this song doesn’t do anything for me. It’s just boring. Will it win? Probably.

21: ARMENIA: This song makes me laugh because it literally reads like a tumblr post. Oh, you want to read books, make art and visit old bookstores? Ok girlblogger. The song is pretty weird, the (rap?) bridge comes out of nowhere and chorus is repetitive (ok I GET IT, you decide to be good, do good and look good). The last 30 seconds are great though, I wish she would sing the whole song in Armenian.

20: GERMANY: The German accent :’) I’m just happy Germany sent something original, and it’s catchy as hell! Not really my thing though, but I can really appreciate it.

19: SERBIA: The “hello?” reminds me of Shane Dawson for some reason and it’s pretty off putting LOL. Other than that this song is pretty cool! I love the instrumentals and visuals. My boyfriend says Luke Black looks like he plays League Of Legends so there's that.

😎GREAT😎

18: CYPRUS: This is good but doesn’t stand out. Some parts are really good (like the pre chorus and bridge) but some are forgettable.

17: GREECE: The way I would eat this up when I was 17… Sadly not quite as much at 24. But it’s still pretty good and I feel like it will be a grower on me.

16: MALTA: This feels different from what Malta usually sends and I like that! I love a funky saxophone so this is pretty good to me.

15: SPAIN: I have such mixed feelings about this song. I can listen to it and love it and the next time I’m not so sure. It’s interesting for sure! And her vocals are amazing.

14: CROATIA: TRACTOR! This is so funny and catchy, the most unique song of the year for sure.

13: DENMARK: This is soooo cringey but sadly a guilty pleasure of mine. The autotune really put me off at first but now I like it. I like the song okay? Put me behind bars.

12: ITALY: This has definitely been a grower for me, at first I thought it was meh and didn’t stick out to me at all. But after a few more listens it has really grown on me! The pre-chorus is so good, but it’s not one of the best Italian entries there is.

11: UKRAINE: Greaaaat song!! It feels different in a good way, definitely a breath of fresh air.

10: AZERBAIJAN: Maybe this years most unpopular opinion, but this is GOOD, ok?? This song reminds me of spring and it feels like it belongs to the soundtrack of a 00’s romcom.. And the rap parts are really good, I won’t accept any questions about this right now.

9: LITHUANIA: This is really good and I’ve listened to it a lot. Love the lithuanian chorus and I loooooove her orange outfit. And omg her VOCALS!! I’m scared it won’t make it far in Liverpool though :(

8: NETHERLANDS: This song took me a few listens but now I’m hooked. The power ballad duet we all needed. In an ocean of upbeat songs this song is a nice calm break.

7: NORWAY: VOCALS!! So good. So catchy. Great performance. Amazing outfit. Just really really good overall.

🥰THE BEST🥰

6: AUSTRIA: This so soooo fun and catchy and good. I LOVE IT!! There are a lot of upbeat pop songs this year but this is for sure one of the best ones. Excited to see what they will do on stage.

5. ESTONIA: LOVE this!! I’m hooked from the first bar. I feel like it should play in a scene in a movie where the main character is sitting at a cafe, looking out the rainy window, thinking about all the people who wronged them. It’s just a powerful song.

4. LATVIA: Love this so much. The chorus hits me every single time. PLEASE DONT WAKE UP WAKE UP!!

3: FINLAND: This song just has it all; rock, pop, lyrics everyone can sing along to, male titties. If you don’t go ape shit crazy while listening to this song then I don’t know what to tell you… SO! GOOD!

2: SLOVENIA: I’ve been hooked on this song since the first listen, I keep trying to sing along as if I knew slovene. This is just so good, the vibe, the instrumentals, I just want to DANCE!

1: CZECHIA: This songs chorus makes me absolutely sob, the SISTERHOOD of it all. The costumes, the four different languages, the meaning…This is my absolute favourite of the year, in a perfect world it would win it all. I just hope they nail the live performance because the national final was not very good… I hope they bring the elements (and budget lol) of the music video to stage, I'm obsessed with their costumes.

[girlschasinggirls]

39 countries is so cool! Which countries were they? And which would you like to have the chance to visit?

australia (home), singapore, indonesia, england, portugal, france, belgium, spain, italy, germany, switzerland, holland, austria, hungary, croatia, serbia, russia, greece, latvia, estonia, lithuania, poland, czechia, slovakia, romania, bulgaria, china, mongolia, kazakhstan, uzbekistan, türkiye, georgia, armenia, lebanon, cyprus, israel, palestine, united arab emirates, saudi arabia, jordan, egypt!!!!!!!!!!!

and in the next few weeks i’m going to north macedonia, albania, kosovo (maybe), montenegro, bosnia and herzegovina & slovenia

i would LOOOVE to go to iceland, scotland, ireland, USA, brasil, mexico, colombia, peru, vietnam, thailand cambodia, laos, morroco (im going this year!) algeria, nigeria, cameroon, south africa, namibia, angola, sudan, iran, iraq & oman (might go this year or next year as well) 💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕

[robyn-goodfellowe]

Colors , what do they symbolise to u

Any kind of fabric you prefer over others and why

A country you wish to visit :D

> glitter anon

hmm honestly i don't really have any specific ones that have any big symbolism or meaning to me? i guess orange is the one that has the most meaning to me, but my personal favs, pink and green, are just that bc they're pretty :3c

i really like silk and wool fabrics. no real reason they just feel nice :)

my cop-out answer is hungary because i haven't seen a lot of my family in a really, really long time and i really miss them, but a lot of them have been in the process of emigrating (immigrating?) here so hopefully that means i'll get to see them again in the next few years. but also im tryna party with my mutuals and my friends!!!!

outside of that? i used to really want to go to haiti, and i hope that if things get better for those who live there that'll be possible one day. i also really like the thought of visiting kuwait, south africa and ireland. all very very different places from each other ehe

[unlimitedhorsepower]

ive had a repeating dream with ryan in it in which my brain is somehow generating the weirdest ryan backstory details all by itself

it starts by me in 3rd person seeing ryan walking through a city (its evening and very dark) and then knocking on a door and entering without waiting for a reply and then i start seeing things through his POV and its so weirdly detailed and ryans mom has made food

and i woke up from this dream today because ryan got SO distraught/upset. and usually ive woken up or like, the dream has changed before everyones gotten to eat but today i got to see everyone start eating some sort of soup (tomato soup?)

anyway after ryan has entered the house, i get the sense ryan is visiting his parents(?)/family but i KNOW that the woman is ryans sister and i see her clearly and i KNOW she is at least 10 years older than ryan or something like, that shes my so much older than ryan that its hard to call her a sister

and the reason im not sure if theyre ryans parents or grandparents is because i feel like theyre his parents but theyre so old? but actually because its such a specific plot point in the dream that i KNOW thats ryans sister and i KNOW shes a lot older than him so that maybe in the dream it follows perfect dream logic

either way it always goes the same (and my dream ryans genealogy gets even more fucked up because his mom has a decorative pope plate AND the flag of ireland on her wall which ryan looks at a lot) and everyone sits at the same places on the table every time, so i dont get to see a lot of stuff from the other places in the apartment

and i get the sense its some assistive living situation (this is fueled by my grandma irl for sure lol) and when everyone has sat down (ryan is the last to arrive and his dad ignores him), ryans dad starts showing off what awesome gifts he has gotten for his wife. he has dark hair (but its dyed) and he hangs sunglasses from his shirt and is kinda stylish. hes also really stereotypically italian-american like hes my brains idea of what the sopranos protag is like (???ive never seen the show but if i had to pick)

his moms defining trait in the dream is having long, graying ginger hair? and also oddly parted like, it has a section of ginger hair left instead of normal graying (??). i dont get a good sense of her otherwise because shes mostly standing behind/next to ryan where hes not looking

some of the gifts i can remember are a golden necklace with a big real diamond in it, imported olive oil (it doesnt even have a label in it because its directly from some farm or something), and a champagne(?) bottle opener plated with gold with a pure amethyst handle

and everyones talking a lot EXCEPT ryan. hes mostly just thinking and i thought about it just now and i think it might be some sort of situation where theyre speaking in italian and ryan can understand but not reply which is why hes silent (??)

he thought mainly about how extremely hungry he is, and then he was like ugh i dont understand why the bottle opener has amethyst in it because that doesnt really match the decor at all lol... well whatever. he also thinks about how his mom(?) has gotten worse/more demented but at least shes taken up cooking and can cook still

finally we get to the eating part and her mom is a bit too silly/forgetful to set the table so ryans sister helps her out by setting the table while his dad talks to his wife about how beautiful etc she is (wife guy) and ryans sister doesnt give ryan a plate, so i like feel (?) ryan making a confused face at her

and shes like oh.. and she speaks to ryan in the vocal equivalent of a mean girl tight-lipped smile but nicely enough so nobody will notice and goes smth like, “theres only two clean plates of this set of four, one is probably in the wash and one is on the kitchen top behind you because mom(?) has already eaten”. and idk if she says mom or not because its a dream so its not exactly Real words bc weird logic

and she continues like “but does it matter since you never eat properly anyway, or even want to eat:/”.

so ryans like “oi oi... aheh... you got me...” in a defeated fashion and doesnt even try to argue about it. but hes really upset internally because this entire time hes been like, at least ill get food soon im so hungry...

and ryan awkwardly smooths out the tablecloth with his fingers (really vivid to me for some reason) and his dad goes on about how ryan is so disrespectful for not even wanting to eat such a hard-cooked meal and ryan just weakly smiles back at him and he was SO distraught in his brain where i was observing everything from that i woke up.

this is the first time his sister in the dream has spoken to him and it was basically just “area man gets actually bullied for disordered eating by his sister in 3 sentences or less”. why did she do that. why does she hate ryan so much

anyways heres ryans dream sister my brain made up and the image of her is so vivid about the haircut ESPECIALLY. like in t&b style too for some reason (i cant draw like that though). and she looks a LOT like ryan, vividly. im not sure at all what shes wearing though because my brain never focuses on it ain the dream and im not sure if i imagined a dress shirt after waking up or not

bye ryan... move aside ryan your sister has got it going on kinda. she might be evil for some reason but maybe pussy from a girl whos evil is a basic need?

on the scale from one to ten how do you rate my brains ryan lore<3

[crvvys]

I’m known as the “traveller” among friends and family bc I go to countries alone and this is brave apparently. I used to want people to go with me and I made it a habit to visit people and then I hit 24 and decided…nah lol. I hate traveling with other people at least ones I’ve known for years. I will say I don’t like traveling around America alone so I don’t do that often but other places? I’m fine. Im mainly thinking on this bc in an attempt to heal one of my oldest friendships I’ve asked a friend to go to Ireland with me next summer and she’s the only one I’d ask at this point and I don’t think I’ll ask again after that. traveling with someone means I trust them and I want to learn to trust my best friend again.

but also I want more friends who like to travel. I feel like I have so little in common with people I’ve known for years lol

[frecht]

I know its not the same to type it but I'm loving reading your posts and tags about licence plates. PLEASE tell me everything. If you want ofc

of course i want to!!! i dont even know where to begin. when i was a kid my parents introduced me to the license plate game when i was obsessed w the states and going through a bit of a patriotic phase....when i was 5 my dad had a license plate app on his phone solely for me to track them on. i have tracked all 50 states + dc but not all on the same list (the list on my old phone was missing montana and the list on my new phone is missing wyoming).

and last year when my mom and i visited ireland she mentioned that i should see if i could get all the counties. and her friend who we were travelling with helped me bc he knew all the codes but i didnt (at that point) and i know this is a thing with most european plates i think but ireland is the one i know the most thoroughly -- the best thing abt their license plates is that you can tell where theyre from from a distance bc there's a code in the number for each county. it kind of is the best numbering system ever bc it's 2 or 3 numbers for the year it was registered (2 if it was before 2013, 3 if it was after, with the last 2 digits of the year and a 1 or 2 depending which half of the year it was registered in), 1 or 2 letters for the county (most of them are 2 but the big ones like dublin and cork and galway get one letter*), and then a number for which number car it was to be registered during that time period. which is the BEST because it makes it easier to memorize the number (i still know my mom's friend's car's plate off the top of my head bc it was the 12th in its county during the time period) and it actually tells you things abt the car. and the plates stay with the car through multiple owners so you might buy a used car and re-register it but it gets to keep its license plate which i also really like. i also really like this system bc once you figure out a solution for years repeating every century it can go on forever. the only thing i dont like about the irish license plates is that there's no required font so sometimes theyll be in this really compressed ugly font instead of the one that most of them are

im trying to learn the uk codes to get as many of those as i can next but those are a little bit harder bc there are so many more. however uk plates are very easy to identify because they very very rarely have a country code on them (i thought they never did but i was watching a tv show and saw one w little strip that said gb once) and the back one is yellow while the front one is white

anyway i really think the united states should implement a similar system. perhaps not per state (like 132-MD-[number] for my mom's car would be a bit obscene considering how many cars im sure people are buying esp in like texas) but perhaps if we could keep having different styles for each state and then this sort of numbering system with the counties within each state i would really like that.

also if youre from the us have you noticed that virginia license plates are the only ones where the number/letter pattern is in a serif font?? because i have and i hate it. it is very ugly. AND apparently it isn't even a real font. it's just like a collection of jpegs for each letter.

*this also changed i forget which year...2013 or 2014 and it used to be that in limerick and waterford and tipperary there were multiple codes, l for limerick city and lk for the county/ w for waterford city and wd for the county/ tn for tipperary north and ts for tipperary south but now it's all t/wd/ and i forget whether limerick is l or lk.

[timcurlyshepard]

I’m stress postin people

[witchwood-inn]

Traditional Irish Imbolc customs

What is Imbolc? In Ireland on the 1st of February, Imbolc (Pronounced Im-Olk) marked the beginning of Spring. Imbolc likely meaning ‘In the belly’(Old Irish “i mbolc” and modern irish “i mbolg”), which could reference both the new life of the womb within animals and humans as well as the seeds of potential within the fertile Earth. At this time, early spring is evident with small buds appearing on the trees and other greenery beginning to emerge. It also marked the beginning of the first milk of the year amongst the livestock. Milk and dairy products are sacred to the Irish and at this time of year when food from the last harvest was becoming scarce, the first milk was very much needed for survival and eagerly awaited. Goddess Brigid (In Irish her name is Bríd, pronounced breej) was celebrated at this time of year as she warms the earth and brings the spring. She was said to have been born at the exact moment of daybreak, and rose into the sky with the sun, rays of fire beaming from her head. Although a Goddess from pagan Ireland, Brigid became a saint upon Ireland’s conversion to Christianity and she is still very much revered under a different guise (In my opinion) and so Saint Brigid is celebrated on February 1st for St. Brigid’s day rather than Imbolc. The customs are largely the same however. Traditions we can do today: Imbolc was celebrated from Imbolc eve at sunset to Imbolc day at sunset. On Imbolc eve, people would hang out pieces of ribbon/ cloth or a scarf (Called a Brat Bride) to receive Brigid’s blessing as she passes by. The next morning they are collected and kept somewhere safe until someone in the household became sick or injured, the cloth is wrapped around the afflicted area or person for Brigid’s healing powers to work on them. Brigid is the goddess of Healing, Poetry and Smithcraft as well as the hearth fire. On the day of Imbolc, it was customary to do some spring cleaning and the beginnings of preparations for spring sowing. Holy wells dedicated to Brigid were visited and people would walk sunwise (clockwise) around the wells as they prayed for health. Offerings were left at the well, typically coins and clooties (strips of cloth or rags) tied to trees beside the well. Well water was used to bless the home, family members, livestock, and fields. An offering could also be milk poured into the ground or porridge poured into the water, as a libation. If you don’t live in Ireland, you can visit any spring well with the same intentions. Leave out an offering for Brigid at your altar or just outside if you can, including any dairy like milk or butter, porridge or anything you bake like irish scones or soda bread. Irish soda bread: https://www.bordbia.ie/recipes/desserts-and-baking-recipes/traditional-brown-soda-bread/ Irish scones: https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/food-and-drink/back-to-basics-how-to-make-the-perfect-irish-scone-1.3792410 Brigid’s crosses were made from rushes and they were often hung over doors, windows and stables to welcome Brigid and for protection against fire, lightning, illness and evil spirits. They were left there until next Imbolc and the old cross was burned and a new one was made every year. If you’d rather hang it up in a non-christian way, just tilt the cross to look more like an X which then represents the sun instead of the christian cross. You can also make Brigid’s crosses out of anything if rushes are unavailable to you. How to make a Brigid’s cross: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yn_MG4HZVOo Here are some more recipes to try if you’d like to have a feast! http://www.clondalkinparish.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/St-Brigid-recipes-CCPC.pdf

Imbolc shona daoibh! (Happy Imbolc to you! Pronounced “Im-Olk Hunna yee-v”)

[loverholland]

a month to disappear.

⋆｡˚┊synopsis ; after graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you and Peter decided to move away. The world seemed to stop, however, when Peter goes missing. ↳ established relationship! peter parker x established relationship! reader & hogwarts!au. angst. ⋆｡˚┊word count ; less than 1k ⋆｡˚┊authors note ; this is long awaited (but not really). sorry for disappearing, school is wild rn but I just dropped to 12 credits so im hoping to be a bit more active. but enjoy this for now :-)

Life after Hogwarts was something that many people didn’t talk about. You didn’t talk to many of your classmates after you had left, truly, you didn’t even want to. There wasn’t any use in it and as much as you loved the memories you’ve made, they weren’t something you wanted to visit immediately. That’s when you and your boyfriend, Peter Parker, moved to Ireland. You began working for the Ministry of Magic and Peter began doing virtual work for Tony Stark, doing missions within Ireland and doing paperwork. It wasn’t his favorite job, doing the paperwork side of everything, but he wanted to protect his home. The little home that you and Peter picked out all those years ago.

It was a small, quiet and quaint town. Children ran up and down the road, screaming and giggling with one another. The people went on with their lives, sometimes making too much noise for the town. It was safe. At least, that’s what you thought.

Peter disappeared on a quiet, hot afternoon. This wasn’t uncommon where he wouldn’t check his phone. Sometimes missions took too long, but he hadn’t called, texted or facetimed you in hours. Days. Months. He didn’t tell you where he’d be going, he said it was too dangerous and that he would be okay. He promised as he pressed a kiss to your lips before walking out of the house with an old gym bag over his shoulder. He had a wide grin on his face when he called you from the car. And then he was just… gone.

It was day 31 of Peter’s disappearance. You weren’t dealing with it well. You called in from work and laid on the couch for hours. You were wrapped in Peter’s favorite blanket, his hoodie and a pair of underwear. You stared blankly at the television screen as it played some show from Hulu. The world kept moving while you were stuck. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call Tony or vice versa. He seemed to be doing well with everything. He sometimes showed emotions during the call and other times it would be Morgan crying at the context.

Your phone began vibrating violently next to your head. You moved slowly and grabbed the device. You saw the caller ID and sighed answering Tony’s phone call.

“Hey, sunshine.” Tony greeted and you murmured a soft response, laying back in your position. “Doing any better?”

“No.”

Tony hummed. “Well, I have someone on top of looking for his location at all times. They said there hasn’t been any activity, still.” Tony must’ve turned his back to the phone because the words got muffled before becoming clear again. “Do you know if he’s turned off his tracker?”

“You ask this every time.” You murmur, pushing half of your face into the pillows to avoid the tears spilling from your eyes. “No. He had no reason to. I don’t even think he knew how to with this suit.”

Tony laughed at the memory. “He learned, didn’t he?” There was a moment of silence. You sniffled and pressed your face fully into the pillow, hugging it tightly. “Have there been any activity on his phone?”

A beat of silence roamed the room. You didn’t know. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Tony hummed again, typing quickly. “Would he have a reason not to be tracked?”

No. There wasn’t a reason and the only reason you could come up with was that he didn’t want to be found. He wanted to drop his life and go somewhere far away from you and his old past. He didn’t want to remember anything that he had gone through, he didn’t want to be with you… He didn’t want to continue. It broke your heart to think about, but maybe you did something wrong. You wished more than anything that you could fix it and bring him back home.

You licked your lips and sighed. “I don’t know… Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Y/N…” Tony sadly said. “Don’t say that. He loved you to bits, alright? He wouldn’t have just up and left you to fend for yourself. He’s better than that.”

“Kind words make the heart grow fonder.” You chewed on your bottom lip and sat up, pushing your hands into the hoodie. It was a way to hug yourself. It was the only hug you had gotten in the month since he left. The last time you heard his voice was a month ago. The last time you touched was a month ago. The last time for so many things was… a month ago. “Fucking Christ, I’m wearing one of Peter’s hoodies.”

“Does it still smell like him?”

You stopped for a moment, holding your breath. You pulled one hand from the pocket and lifted the neck to your nose. You had a moment of yes, it does smell like him. I know what he smells like but as quickly as the words started to form, they dissipated. It didn’t smell like him. Nothing did and the final piece she had from him, didn’t even smell… right? Tears flooded your eyes and you dropped the hoodie from your nose. Your heart broke all over again, confused and hurt that this happened. You breathed in, trying to keep the feelings at bay but when Tony called your name, a hard and loud sob left your lips.

“It doesn’t.” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself in a way to comfort you. “It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.”

[koulakoukoula2003]

Could I request a Levi x Irish!Reader?

I myself am Irish and I have been obsessing over Levi.

Oohh yes, anon, I did see your request. I've no idea how to write an Irish character AHAHAH I haven't been in the UK for long so I hadn't had the chance to visit Ireland (I really want to!), but I do know that you ppl are hot af and stubborn and rebellious and drink a lot and your accent is impossible to understand AHAHAH imma try and write the accent and mindset I'll probably get it wrong but pls ignore.

Genre: fluff, Comedy, lightly implied smut Pairing: Levi x Irish!Reader And since we're in on this, send me asks: [Favourite character] x any ethnicity!Reader and imma try and come up with a small scenario THAT WILL ALWAYS BE UNEDITED CUZ IM SLEEP DEPRIVED LMFAO

You groaned in irritation as you sipped down your beer and you stared at the shelves behind the counter. The bartender and owner of the pub was a friend of yours. You did spend most of your nights there.

Being a Scout was an absolute pain in your arse, but it was certainly better than being like those gammy blokes in the military, slacking off all day like the useless pieces of shits they were. At least the Scout Regiment was trying to bring some change, to find a few parts of the truth.

You sighed heavily.

Six years.

You had been in the Scout Regiment for six bloody years and you were already a bloody veteran. You had lost more than a few shams to those deadly beasts.

"Want a refill, y/n?"

You nodded "Aye, thanks, Jonny," You watched the man as he poured you another glass of beer and he brought it to you.

"So long as you're paying, Section Commander,"

You chuckled and brought the glass to your lips to take a sip. You sensed a man sitting beside you and you turned and looked to see Levi. Your eyes widened and you immediately turned back to your beer, forcing it to your mouth and starting to gulp down.

You had to get out of here, but you still had to finish your beer first. It would be a waste to leave it, even though the big glass was full but it was no challenge for you to gulp it all down in just a few seconds.

"Aight, I'm outta here," you tossed a few coins on the counter and you waved at Jonny as you made your way out of the pub pretending you didn't see Levi there. "Keep yer change, will ya?"

"Wait! Y/n!" Levi cried out to you and you only hurried out a little faster.

How could you face this man? Last time you were together in the same room, you had gotten him drink, and you had pushed him against some wall, giving him the best makeout session of his life and next thing you knew, you were both on the floor, naked, with the biggest hangover you've ever dealt with.

You and Levi have been avoiding each other ever since.

How could you face this man?

He probably wanted nothing to do with you. A useless drunk with an accent than nobody could understand. A useless freak with ginger hair (that was quite literally twice his size) and huge bright blue eyes. You were different. You had been called a freak a thousand times growing up behind the walls for the simplest fact that you were just different.

The Scout Regiment was the only place where you were accepted for who you were. Your unique characteristics did not matter in the Scout Regiment. The only thing that mattered was you willing to lay down your own life for a cause.

It was snowing outside. It was that time close to winter but you could always handle the cold better than anyone else. The freezing temperatures never really bothered you.

And with alcohol running constantly in your veins, you expected nothing less.

"Stop, you brat,"

Levi caught you and flipped you over to look at him with unfathomable force. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you against him.

Oh but you were absolutely stubborn.

You pressed your hands on his chest and tried to push him away but he did not budge an inch.

"Let me go, you bloody gobshite, or I'm gonna lamp your ass on the-"

"Can't you just shut up so that we can talk this through like normal people?!" You were really getting on his nerves. Shorter as he was, he was still stronger than you.

"I'm not normal!"

"I'm not normal either!" He growled at you and you finally stopped smacking your hands on his chest.

Yes he wasn't normal. You were there when Erwin dragged him out of the Underground. He was a short, ugly and skinny man and he had the gal to want to be with a Goddess like you. With those pretty bright blue eyes and your long, ginger hair that were always braided to perfection. Hell, you were taller than him. What kind of misfit couple would you two make?

But you were perfect, and you had no idea.

He finally released you and you took a step back away from him.

"Fine," you looked away from him. "Let's talk, but I don't to-"

"I like you, y/n," He shut you up with that sentence and your eyes widened. "You may not remember shit of that night cuz you were drunk as fuck, but for me? It's all I've thought about ever since,"

You couldn't believe it. Someone... actually liked you? "L- Levi, I-"

"You don't have to say anything," He turned his back to leave. "Just thought you should know,"

Before he had the chance to go away, you caught his hand and made him turn to look at you and you kissed him. He melted right in and he wrapped his arms around you and you cupped his cheeks pulling back slightly.

"I fancy you too, you jammy buck,"

He smiled at you, even though he had no idea what that meant.

You really had to let him in on your unusual vocabulary.

[houseofbrat]

“Buckingham Palace has announced "the Queen has reluctantly accepted medical advice to rest for the next few days" and will miss her visit to Northern Ireland”

If im not wrong, u mention keeping eyes open end of oct and now this? Palace cancel Northen Ireland visit seriously worry me. Bcause i think that is bad.

https://houseofbrat.tumblr.com/post/665145455871655936/i-know-this-might-sound-like-broken-record-for-you

https://houseofbrat.tumblr.com/post/665169171861159936/so-you-really-dont-suggest-me-to-buy-my-tickets

https://houseofbrat.tumblr.com/post/665172270758641664/and-the-alleged-death-of-the-queen-will-involve

Yup. Mars moves into (sidereal) Libra tomorrow evening in the UK. Mars will transit through Libra until 05 December. The reason this is relevant is because there are two malefic planets--Saturn & Mars--aspecting the 4th house for three of HM The Queen’s children, specifically Charles, Andrew, and Anne. The aspects to Edward’s chart are a little bit different, but he has some of the same things going on when you consider his 4th house from his natal Moon (chandra lagna). 

Additionally, we have official crazy times starting in November because eclipse season, which always brings some level of craziness, starts on 05 November, which is two weeks before the lunar eclipse on 19 November. Eclipse season will last until 18 December, which is two weeks after the solar eclipse on 04 December. Right after eclipse season, we have Venus going retrograde on 19 December. When Venus goes retrograde, it always ends up bringing a series of celebrity divorce and separation announcements. 

I think the whole period of Mars being in Libra is suspect for The Queen’s passing, but particularly the period between now and Charles’ birthday. Mars has been aspected by Jupiter for most of the past two months, which is beneficial and brings down the emotional temperature to Mars. But when Mars moves into Libra tomorrow, Mars will no longer receive such a beneficial aspect to it, which means that the emotional temperature is going to rise for everyone over the next few weeks. Part of that is due to Mars being combust until the end of November. Mars has been combust for several weeks already; however, the current Mars combustion hasn’t been as bad due to Jupiter aspecting it, but, as I just mentioned, that is going to change. 

This is why I said we’re entering the “dumpster fire” part of the year a few days ago. 

Consider the announcement made today that The Queen is not able to do things that she might have done just two years ago. That is just not an announcement that The Queen is not able to do things as she normally would like, but it’s also a public announcement to keep the British public informed in case anything happens to her suddenly. 

An announcement such as that should make someone like Harry and Meghan reconsider any attention-getting stunts they may have planned. But as Plant always used to say about Megs, “She does not care.” Meghan isn’t known for restraint or holding back. Meghan has been awfully quiet the last few weeks. Suspiciously so to me. Are we going to see a sudden resurgence when The Queen is at her most vulnerable, even when that vulnerability has been announced publicly? Probably. 

[simonsrosebud]

OK NEVER MIND THAT ASK! Just read Thea + Dalton meeting, so we know Kevin's in NYC + Dalton is at the University of Delaware. How about Dalton + Kevin go to Ireland to reconnect w/Kevin's extended family?

can i still answer it...?  i mean, they’ve got to get to a place in their lives where they’re living closer than a 3 hour drive, right...?

as for kevin’s extended family in ireland... i don’t know, i feel like he doesn’t want to meet them.  or maybe not that he doesn’t want to meet them, but he’s never thought about it before.  i think, honestly, that by the time he even gets the chance to go to ireland he’s too content with the people he has that it would only stir up his life- which he’s scared of because he just got it to be perfect.

kayleigh’s parents, maybe, but i feel like that would be too much for him.  that’s not to say they don’t at least travel to ireland in general.  and while they’re there, kevin visits his mother’s grave.

they go to ireland i’m gonna say the summer before kevin’s second year in the pros.  he’s been with dalton for nearly three years by then.

“it helps that i don’t remember her.”  he hates that he says it, because he knows he wishes he did remember, but he feels it’s true all the same.  it hurts in a different way.  a little less painful.

dalton goes with him, and kevin introduces him to her a little jokingly- a defense mechanism.

but then dalton leaves him to be alone for a bit, and kevin sits in front of her grave.  he’s silent for a few minutes, just taking it in.  the writing on the stone tears an empty hole in his chest.

my son kevin, my buggy, my sun.

there’s a heart next to it.

kevin finds himself crying.  and he doesn’t know why, but he presses his forehead to his knees and squeezes his eyes shut.

when he’s composed himself, he looks up at the sky.  it’s a muggy day.  and he tells his mother about his life.

the good things.

he forgets about all the bad for all of ten minutes, and when he looks at dalton sitting in the rental car looking the other way, he tells her about him, too.

short, and bittersweet, IM SORRY, but i feel like it’s what fits him in this situation the most.

[deniigi]

i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

 --

  “So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.  

No one was stopping them.  

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

 ---

 This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

 ---

 Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

 ---

 Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

 ---

 Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

 ---

 Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

 ---

 Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

 ---

 Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

 ---

  “Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

 ---

 Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

 ---

 “So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

 ---

 Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

 ---

 Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

 ---

 Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

 ---

 About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

 ---

 Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

 ---

 He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,”  he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

 -----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

[reidrco]

reunion - thomas shelby

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: tommy shelby x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fluff. mentions of sex.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿‘𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: im finally back with the second part of summer ‘09!! it took me so long to write this and im not sure if any of this makes sense, but i hope y’all like it. i apologise for any mistakes i made, stay safe angels! im don’t think it’s necessary to read the first part, but im not sure :(

part 1

It was a freezing day in Small Heath, heavy snowflakes danced in the air and fell on your cheeks, melting on your warm skin. The sun hid behind the dark clouds in the sky, making everyone shiver in the unbearable cold, and glistening snow covered the dirty streets and roofs of every house in the little town, hinting the return of Santa Claus. You loved the winter. In your opinion, Christmas time was the best time of the year. Nothing was better than being curled up in a warm blanket in front of your fireplace and reading your favourite novel with a cup of tea in your hands. Besides that, you also got to see your family again. A few years ago, you had moved to London and started a new life. When the war had started, Small Heath had been nothing but a painful reminder of memories which you had wanted to forget. Leaving your family and friends behind hadn't been easy, but you had to do it. For the first time, you had to put yourself first and it had been the best decision of your life. London was an amazing city, you had found new friends and a job in a little flower shop. The payment wasn't the best, but you earned enough money to afford a roof over your head and two slices of bread on your plate every day. Most importantly, you liked working there. Your employer and the costumers were always nice, treating you with kindness and respect. You didn't regret your lifechanging decision, you never would, but sometimes you wondered what your life would've been like if you had stayed in Small Heath. Maybe you wouldn't have found your happiness like you had in London. Coming back to your home town was still something you loved. Spending time with your family and old friends made you feel like the happiest woman on the planet and sometimes you had even thought about moving back to Small Heath, but you couldn't do that. Although your mother had begged you to come back, you really couldn't. Too many tears and painful memories were linked to this city. And now that the one person who had been the reason for your loss of happiness, Thomas Shelby, was back, your excitement to visit your family on Christmas had been mixed with fear and nervousness. But just when you had thought it couldn't get worse, Polly had invited your family, including you, to a Christmas party in Tommy's new mansion. You knew he was engaged to a beautiful woman from Ireland now and, although the two of you had broken up years ago, it hurt to even imagine seeing him in the arms of someone else. Almost nine years was a long time to get over a painful break-up, but it wasn't long enough for you. Tommy and you hadn't broken up because you had stopped loving each other or your feelings hadn't been as strong as at the beginning of your relationship, no. You had decided to go separate ways to make his time in France easier for both of you, but your stupid idea had made everything worse. Instead of moving on, you had fallen into a pitch-black, deep hole of sadness and depression. No matter what you had done, everything in Small Heath had reminded you of Tommy and the possibility of never seeing him again. You had cried yourself to sleep every night, spend most of the time in your parents' house and avoided any kind of contact to anyone. You had been so scared of losing Tommy, scared of never seeing him again. You had promised each other to move on and find someone new, but it had been impossible for you. After eight years, you still hadn't dated anyone else. Of course, you had gone on a few dates, but you had never stopped comparing the man sitting in front of you to Tommy.

He had been the perfect boyfriend, making you feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet, which you had been to him, and trying everything in his power to make you happy. Your bond had been so strong, your families had been convinced that nothing could ever tear you apart. Polly and your mother, who had become close friends over the years, had already planned your wedding. One year after Tommy had gone to France, you had decided to move on. It had been hard, yes, but the fighting had been worth it. You had a life to live and deserved to be happy, that's what you had always told yourself. Moving to London had been the right decision, leaving your family and all the painful memories behind, but Tommy still hadn't left your mind one second. You had cried buckets full of happy tears when your mother had told you that Tommy had come home, alive and healthy. Your fear of losing him again had finally disappeared, but nevertheless, you had never visited him. You had been scared that he had forgotten about you and never wanted to see you again, but it was stupid of you to think that because Tommy hadn't spent a day without hoping you would run into his office and kiss him. Not even now. The thought of seeing you again made Tommy feel incredibly nervous. He hadn't slept in days, always thinking about finally seeing your beautiful face again and he had to try his best not to show too much excitement. He had tried to forget you, move on with Grace, but it had been harder than expected. Your mother smiled at you, her hand resting on your lower back as she pushed you towards the door. Together with your parents, you entered the huge mansion. Suddenly, loud footsteps could be heard and Polly, Tommy's aunt, appeared in the hallway, running up to your mother excitedly. You smiled as the rest of the family joined you, everyone greeting your family and you with big, warm hugs and kind words. It was good to see them after such a long time, seeing them healthy and alive made it hard for you not to burst out in tears. John was the last one who wrapped his arms around you, swaying you around excitedly and whispering in your ear how glad he was to see you. The two of you had always been close friends, spending countless nights at the Garrison and dancing until the sun rose again. A single tear rolled down your cheek as John pulled back and smiled softly at you, quickly wiping it away with the back of your hand. "Thomas!," your father said happily, gaining your attention immediately. He walked towards him with open arms, pulling the handsome man in a warm embrace. They have had a strong bond since your first dinner at your parents' house and you knew that your father loved Tommy with all his heart. Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest because it was pounding in your chest like crazy. You hadn't seen him in years, but he still looked as handsome as you had remembered him. His black suit fit him perfectly, making him look like a sex god. The past years had definitely made him even more attractive. You stopped breathing as his blue eyes suddenly met yours and he came closer to you, your palms starting to sweat. What were you supposed to do? Hug him? Smile politely? Say nothing? Ignore him? "Hey," he said nervously, standing right in front of you and staring into your eyes. Only hearing his voice again made you want to cry. Your brain stopped working and before you could think about it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close. Tommy looped his strong arms around your waist, burying his nose in your (y/h/c) hair and taking in the familiar scent of your coconut shampoo. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, ignoring everything around him. Home. He was home. You had no idea how long the two of you stood in the hallway like this, quiet sobs left your lips. It had been so long and you felt bad for never coming to Small Heath to visit him. Actually, you regretted everything. Letting him go to France, moving to London, breaking up with Tommy. Who knew where you would be right now if none of that had ever happened. The feelings the two of you had for each other had never disappeared and that was what you both realised in that moment, being back in your first love's arms after years. As you opened your eyes, you saw a young, beautiful woman standing a few metres behind Tommy. You quickly pulled back when you noticed how uncomfortable she seemed to feel in this moment. Tommy looked at you slightly confused, watching you wipe your tears away and walking past him towards the woman. "I'm (y/n). It's nice to meet you," you introduced yourself, trying to hold your tears back. She was beautiful and looked like an angel with her blond hair and sparkling eyes. No wonder he had fallen in love with her. It made you doubt the thoughts you had just one minute ago, feeling like Tommy definitely didn't feel the same feelings you felt anymore. You had lost him, but you couldn't blame him. You had promised each other to move on and that was exactly what he had done. It wasn't his fault that you couldn't get over him and you knew that he deserved to be happy. She smiled at you, shaking your hand which you had extended seconds earlier. Her fingers were cold unlike yours and she took a step back faster than you could squeeze her hand. "Grace," she simply said and reached out to grab Tommy's arm to drag him closer to her body, wrapping her arms possessively around his arm. You forced yourself to smile at the couple in front of you, ignoring the pain in your chest. This would be an interesting evening and something told you that you would rarely get time to talk to Tommy. __________

Thomas had been focused on you ever since you had entered his house. You looked as beautiful as always and all he wanted to do was feel your body close to his. He knew that his girlfriend was right next to him and he shouldn't think about such things, but every inch of his skin screamed and pleaded for your warm touch. The hug the two of you had shared had made him realise just how much he had really missed you all this time. Coming to this conclusion, left the Shelby with confusing thoughts. He had thought he had moved on, somehow found a new love and was ready to love another woman just as much as he had loved you, but he wasn't.

Tommy wasn't even sure if he loved Grace or just told himself that he did, although it was never true. Grace was beautiful and kind and she loved him. He liked her, a lot, but she wasn't you. She would never be you. A small smile tucked on his lips as he watched you laugh over one of John's terrible jokes. He couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you looked tonight. Your (y/h/c) hair was slightly curled, framing your pretty face perfectly. You looked like a goddess in your red dress and he was sure nobody else would manage to look as good as you did in it. The fact that you weren't wearing a ring on your finger calmed him down. Of course, it didn't mean you hadn't fallen in love with someone new, but at least you weren't engaged or married. It was selfish and he knew he shouldn't think like that, but the thought of someone else being allowed to kiss you and hold you in their arms made him feel jealous. His blue eyes lingered on your lips and he started to wonder if they still tasted like fresh strawberries. Tommy had always been addicted to your lips because they were soft, tasted like sweet sugar and could work wonders. The two of you had spent hours at your secret spot by the river, making out for hours and returning home with swollen lips and purple hickeys late at night. When he had been in France, he had missed these precious moments more than anything. Although the two of you had broken up before he had left, you had always been his motivation to keep fighting and not give up. Dying had never been an option because he had wanted to see you again. Tommy had often thought about how he could win you back and give your relationship another shot because you hadn't broken up because your feelings had decreased. His feelings for you had never changed and he had wanted to do anything to get you back. But when he had returned, suddenly you had been gone. Polly had explained to him why you had moved to London and Tommy hadn't blamed you because he had known that you had made the right decision, but the pain he had felt in his heart that day had been terrible. "Is everything alright, love?" someone suddenly asked, making Tommy almost flinch. He turned his face to the side to face his beautiful girlfriend who looked at him, worry written all over her skin. He nodded slightly before his eyes returned to your figure again. "Excuse me for a moment," he mumbled and pushed his chair back to get up. Grace stared at him and watched him walk towards you, anger starting to build up in her stomach. She had tried her best to keep him away from you all night, but now she knew that he wouldn't be able to stop her boyfriend another time. John stopped talking as he saw his brother approaching him and you, grinning at the older Shelby and pointing at his empty glass. "I'll be back in a second," with these words he turned around and left you alone. You were slightly confused, not knowing what to do or who you should talk to because everyone was already caught up in a conversation. Suddenly, a cool hand touched your arm, causing you to turn around and stare right into the blue eyes of Thomas Shelby. His touch send goosebumps all over your skin, the butterflies in your stomach flying around excitedly. You hadn't talked to him since your hug in the hallway because Grace had been around him every second, but now she finally didn't seem to be clinging at his arm for once. "Can we talk? Somewhere a bit more… private?" he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm. 

"Of course," you smiled and tried to hide your nervousness, your heart skipping a beat or maybe five inside your chest. Tommy took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with his own before he started walking out of the huge ballroom. You had no idea where he was leading you, but you followed him with quick steps. After a short walk through his huge mansion, Tommy finally stopped in front of a door and lead you inside the room, still not letting go of your warm hand, although your palm was already sweating. You assumed he had brought you to his office for some privacy, a desk and a chair stood in front of the window and the big fireplace was the only source of light in the room. You let go of his hand and sat down on the comfortable couch standing right next to the warm fire. Tommy walked over to an expensive-looking cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey before he stepped right in front of you, looking down into your eyes. You smiled at him, letting your glass, which was still filled with champagne, softly crash together with his. Both of you drank the alcohol down in one gulp, hoping to find the confidence to talk and fight off your nervousness. On one side it felt like nothing had ever happened between the two of you, Tommy had never gone to France and you hadn't moved to London, but at the same time, it was like you were in a room with a stranger. "How's London?" he was the first one to speak, his intense gaze making it even harder for you to stay calm and ignore the tension between you and him. "It's great. It's different from here, but I like it," you said, unsure of the things he already did and didn't know. A comfortable silence followed after you had answered his question, the two of you staring into each other's eyes. Tommy lifted his hand, his fingers coming close to your face before they softly brushed your cheek. You smiled at him, your heart beating ten times faster again. There were so many things you wanted to say, but you didn't know if you should share them with him. "You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now," his words shocked you a bit, although you knew that Tommy never hesitated to say what was on his mind. You fixed your eyes on the wall behind him because your face would turn into a tomato if you kept holding his gaze. You had fantasised about this moment so many times, your reunion, but everything had been different than you had expected it to be. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, at least not the part that Tommy still wanted to kiss you after all this time. "Why don't you do it then?" you asked quietly, looking back into his blue eyes and smiling innocently. It took Tommy a lot of self-control not to fuck you right there on his couch because that had been one of the main thoughts in his head ever since he had seen you in your red dress, remembering how good you had used to feel. Tommy kneeled down so that your eyes were almost at the same level now, his cool fingers wrapped themselves around your neck and gently pushed your face closer to his. Your lips were only inches apart, his hot breath tickling your skin while his eyes never left yours. Your heart was beating so loud that you were sure Tommy could hear it pounding in your chest. All you wanted was to finally kiss him, but you wanted him to take the next step. "I missed you so much," he whispered, your lips brushing against his for a moment. His fingers softly caressed the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Before you could say something, Tommy finally closed the space between your lips and reunited them again. It felt so unreal, like a dream, his lips just as soft as you had remembered them. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, making you moan softly against his lips. The kiss was passionate but still filled with all the love you had for each other. Maybe the two of you had changed a lot over the past years, but your feelings were still the same. Tommy put his empty glass on the floor next to him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pushing you back into the cushions of the couch before he carefully hovered over you. You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, softly pulling on a few strands while Tommy pulled back for a moment only to leave a trail of gentle kisses from your cheek down to your neck. You kept your eyes closed, biting your lip harshly to prevent yourself from moaning as Tommy kissed the soft skin right behind your ear. Everything was perfect and who knew where the two of you would've ended up if you hadn't heard footsteps approaching the room all of sudden. "Tommy," you whispered, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing him away from you. He looked at you slightly confused before someone called his name from the hallway and he immediately knew what was going on. Luckily, it was only Polly and not Grace. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a second," he whispered and left another quick kiss on your lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick one last time before he got up from the floor and walked towards the door, fixing his hair and suit with shaky hands. You couldn't contain your giggle any longer, hiding your face in one of the pillows. This was not what you had expected to happen at your reunion with Tommy, but you weren't complaining. You had no idea what the future held for you and him because there were so many things you had to talk about, what would happen with Grace if the two of you ever got back together, but right now it was got to know that he wanted you just as badly as he had in the summer of 1909.

𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @sweetgoodangel​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @amirahiddleston​ @maniaisbliss​

[misskittysmagicportal]

All You’ve Got Is Gold Part 1

FandomAU!: Billy Delaney/Cormac McNamara x Female OC

Warnings: Slight NSFW, mostly steamy fluff.  Guys this ended up being long as fuck.  And it’s really only chapter one. Or Part 1.

Jeanie leaned over the bar at Ewan's to pour herself another whiskey, ignoring the bartender as he chastised her. "C'mon lass, don't the wee ones file in to the grounds tomorrow?"

"Wee?" she gulped around her swallow. "Ewan, they're pubescent. You know me though, I like to have a bit of a glow every new semester. That way the parents think I'm truly invested in the well-being of the brats." Jean waved her glass around in the air. "Ok, not brats. Most of them are well-behaved and genuinely interested in learning. Not like the little bastards in America. I'd have 40 to a classroom back there. Saint Fergus barely has 40 students in the entire school."

Ewan took it as a sign and gave her a generous pour one more time, "Heard you cannae keep any professors for the pay. But your husband-"

"EX. As of last spring," Jean corrected.

"EX-husband found some new blood in a few of his University students."

"Aye," Jeanie imitated the Scottish brogue with perfection. "They're all in the corner over there with Dr Purves now."

She had half a decade to assimilate to the culture of the small, boring town just outside of Aberdeen where she followed Gordon and married him without any family or a job. He became head of the Physics and STEM department at the University of Aberdeen, working on projects and female students alike. Jeanie, having abandoned her Master's in Education, was really only qualified to student-teach at a local boarding school. Before long, lack of interest and the economy drove the numbers down to four or five dozen and a position of Headmistress open. At least it was a place to live and an existence that kept her mind off everything else.

"I would say don't look now, because here comes one of his students, but my darling who can keep their eyes off him." Ewan pointed behind his friend with damn near literal hearts in his eyes.

Jeanie glanced over her shoulder as a young man, early 20s? She couldn't tell. But he approached her at the bar. Her first glance became a double, and nearly a stare. Embarrassed, she whipped her head around quickly and blushed in Ewan's general direction. "Sweet Virgin Mary," she exhaled under her breath.

"I normally go by Delaney, but I suppose in certain company Mary will do," a soft Irish lilt.

Jean slow blinked as the bartender broke into a cheshire grin. She took a deep breath and turned towards the man now beside her and held out her hand. Blood pulsing in her ears because.. he was stunning. "Brave of a Celt to set foot in the land of Picts. Even braver for him to be in the presence of the biggest asshole in all of Scotland."

"Well from what I've heard she's more of an Ice Queen than an asshole," he squinted before smiling brightly. Green eyes sparkling in the low light of the bar. "Your.. partner put me up to it anyways. You know, say the bit about the ice. Sorry," he blushed but still held on to her hand firmly. "I've heard you're rather pleasant from the others. Just aloof as it were"

"EX!" Ewan and Jean exclaimed together, and the young man blinked responsively. "No sorries. Cold-hearted bitch is what some of the 6th years call me when I confiscate their illegals. Headmistress Jean Turner, but the two friends I have call me Jeanie. Drink?"

"Just one? I'll take 5. I have to catch up with the others." He hooked a thumb at the group of obnoxious men groping the female students who hung off of them as if they were celebrities. Taking what he was offered, chugging it quickly and shuddering. "Billy. Delaney it is. Well occasionally."

Jeanie and Ewan watched as he basically pounded every shot placed in front of them. Squinting off and on, as if he was trying to adjust to the ambiance. "Is it hot? It's hot in here. God I hate people. Those people. I will never fit in with the misogynists and knobs who prefer rugby and football to actually learning about the world." He pulled at the collar of his sweater before taking it off and draping it over Jeanie's chair. He wore a striped tee shirt underneath "Sorry. Sorry. I've got my nose in tech and books and maths algorithms most days. I forget how to socialize, so I really just want to blend in with the norms."

"You.. are.. fit." Ewan sputtered.

Billy snapped back to attention, his mind having drifted off to the same group Jeanie's eyes kept staring at. "What?"

"He's saying you are fucking fit, mate" Jeanie gaped.

"My body? I'm not really certain about that. I'm rather spindly wouldn't you say?” he shrugged while his cheeks flushed profusely. "My arms? Is it my arms? I swim. Clears my head from all the clutter." He was rambling now.

Jeanie and Ewan started laughing. "Relax! we're taking the piss, love. Your every move is being scrutinized. Now why abouts did Dr Purves send you over here? Surely he has fucking with me on his mind. Not unusual, humiliation has always been the name of the game."

Billy made a gesture that resembled adjusting non-existent glasses. He immediately dropped his hand and pulled a tenner out of his pocket. "To melt the ice, Gordon said. He gave me ten quid to hit on you."

"One of his students. What a lovely parting gift. I guess you're worth the loss of the house and the car," Jeanie stood back slightly to properly size him up.

Billy bit the entirety of his bottom lip, furrowing his brows, "I reckon you're worth more than a tenner to sleep with."

Jeanie blinked a few times, head tilted to the side to make sure she heard correctly. "SEX?!" she laughed, unable to help herself. "I don't exactly know what all of this," she waved her hand down his body, "would be doing even in the vicinity of sleeping with this," pointing to her own.

Confusion came over his face, "Am I supposed to be.. Is there something wrong with you that I don't notice? I, I can be kind of oblivious to loads. I think, really, Gordon goaded me into coming over here for my benefit as much as his amusement. I don't have too much experience, but you seem quite lovely you know. Your hair is," brows furrowed again but in thought, "Nicely red in this lighting. Reminds me of my friend from Ireland. Hannah."

Jeanie pinched the bridge of her nose as Ewan audibly guffawed from beside her. "Saints preserve us," the Scotsman said between gasps for air. "Donnae if you are taking the piss now, bloke, or are you really this bad at pulling birds."

Billy grimaced, the entirety of his face beet red. "Honestly, I never make it this far. I guess they usually pull me and I let them?" He started to fan his face, "seriously,,how fucking hot do you keep this pub?" His forehead bent forward to rest on the metal and wood counter of the bar.

Ewan covered his mouth and ruffled the curly head in front of him. "What a wee babby, Dr Purves sent into the lion's den. You just drank half a bottle of my best whiskey and mortified yourself in front of my favorite woman in this whole country. Maybe you ought to drink some water and have a sit for a few. We'll give you something to take to the bell-end in the back."

Jeanie and Ewan's eyes met, and she bit back a smile before leaning over to wrap an arm around her husband's latest protege. "Oh Ewan, I don't think it should be only a story. Why not give the evil genius a bit of a show. Right now he can see Mr Delaney is headed towards a spectacular crash. Im embarrassed. Mr Delaney's embarrassed. You're without very expensive whiskey. Gordon will never let anyone live this down for the semester."

She put her mouth near Billy's ear, "Ten quid is worth SOMETHING. Don't you think? Just look at me." He obliged quicker than she expected. Emerald eyes gazed upwards at her while the heart banged wildly in her chest. "What comes next?"

"I reckon I ought to put my arm on your waist. Right?" his voice now low in her ear and a hand slipped around her hips to draw her as close as possible.

No further guidance was needed as the liquid courage kicked in. Billy stood up and took Jeanie's face in his large hands before he drew her into a rather passionate kiss. Hers instinctively buried in his hair, their tongues dancing as the thought he hustled her entered the back of her mind. How was it that just a few minutes ago he looked ready to vomit at the thought of trying to come on to anyone, not just her. Now he was kissing her like they were Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Jeanie’s back slightly arched as Billy dominated her personal space with his height, a hand dangerously on the curve of her backside.

Ewan held his own face, eyebrows lost in his bangs as he watched the two of them go at it for well, he lost time. Glancing up he noticed just about everyone else in the pub was watching too. Gordon positively green with envy and turning purple with anger. Ewan saw him lean to a colleague and mouth, "That wasn't the fucking deal."

"Job done you two," he cleared his throat and practically shouted to break them up.

Jeanie's mouth was cold as it kissed the air. Billy had stumbled backwards a bit, mouth turned down ever slightly in a whoops motion. He walked, swayed really and floated by every single patron, including the group of men he came in with earlier. Fingers pulled at his bottom lip before he passed a devilish grin over his shoulder in Gordon's direction.

Jeanie and Ewan gobsmacked, but pleasantly amused, looked at one another. Mischief in their eyes as Jeanie noticed Billy's sweater draped over the bar. "Mr Balderston, I think I have a grad student to visit this week. It seems Mr Delaney might need his sweater because the Scottish nights get awfully cold."

Orientation came and went, and the students seemed to settle in quicker than normal.  Quite possibly because this was the lowest attendance in the school’s 150 year history.  They had been in danger of shut down, but Jeanie was informed that first Monday by the Board of Directors that an anonymous group of donors had decided, against their wishes, to purchase the school.  Even if no students came back the following school year, or they were down to only 15 or 10 or 5, Saint Fergus would remain open for unknown reasons.  

To say she was relieved was an understatement for Jeanie.  Much needed repairs were being made, and someone had come to put together a state of the art security system.  Which really confused the faculty and dwindling staff.  Who would steal anything from this junk heap?  Even their books were falling apart.  Except they weren’t.  

By the end of the first week, the girls in their dormitories and in the hallways were abuzz with brand new Literature and Maths books.  They were suddenly interested in Oscar Wilde and Pythagoras.  Jeanie watched as three 4th years sat in the windowsill and audibly cracked open their copies of “The Happy Prince,” stars in their eyes.  

“Have you ever seen anyone as good looking as Dr McNamara?  Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll pay attention to anything else but that voice,” she held her book against her chest.

“Oh c’mon Siobhan.  It’s all about the eyes.  I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them.  Proper green.  If he sticks around, I’ll tell Daddy to talk to all of his barrister friends. Get them to enroll their kids here next year.” 

The third girl was clearly in a daydream out the window, “All I heard today was blah blah blah ‘important in oratory history of Ireland’ blah blah.  Lemme tell you, he can give me an oral exam any day.”

Jeanie cleared her throat and the students jumped nearly a mile high.  “It would do you girls a kindness not to sexually harass our newest teacher at Saint Fergus.”  The smallest hint of a smile on her lips.  “Honestly, how is it that I'm headmistress here and have no bloody clue who this mysterious Dr McNamara is?”

“Well rumor has it, Miss, that he bought the school.  Dr Purves hired him for a project at the uni, and he asked to be right in the thick of the school.”  Siobhan shrugged.

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh he’s installing the security system and having a new science laboratory built,” the daydreaming girl chimed in.

“I thought it was a grad student that was teaching here this semester?  Have any of you heard the name Billy Delaney?  I’ve been looking for him the last week or so, but I can't find him in Aberdeen housing.  I’d like to return his sweater.”  Jeanie’s face flushed pink, and the girls all cast a knowing grin in her direction.

“Has Miss got a crush herself?” Siobhan teased.  “There’s no student teachers this year, but did you say Billy Delaney?”  

“Yes.  Does that name sound familiar to you too?”  

The girls stood and handed Jeanie paperback books one by one.  A stack of them, young adult novels that had grown incredibly popular the last few years.  A stone wall with a glowing green and gold light graced the cover.  “A Green Pool of Light: Emerald City to Oz  Book 1” blazed across the top in that standard stereotyped font that represented all things Irish.  The daydreaming girl, Aila Jeanie would come to find out, opened her copy and ran a finger down the page.  “Yeah, he’s like a gender bent Hermione in these books.” 

Jeanie frowned and flipped through the pages.  The girls all started to laugh, not mean-hearted but in the way kids do at adults when they become lost in the world of anyone under 20.  “That’s Dr McNamara, Miss Turner, and he’s living in the Boys Dorms.”

Jeanie blinked a few times, too many times in disbelief.  The girls dissolved into hysterics and headed off to their next set of classes.  Things maybe just got a bit easier but harder at the same time.

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

Jeanie stared incredulously at herself in the mirror.  When exactly was the last time she showed up to any man’s room wearing only a coat and her underwear?  Or well, a sweater in this case.  She waited until the school was dark and quiet, she couldn’t risk one of the students seeing her dressed this way.  On her way to do a dance of seduction.  No, that’s humiliating.  This was all humiliating.  

What in the hell am I  even doing? She thought.  But it was too late, her legs carried her into the halls and across the floors and up into the West Wing where the boys slept. Tip-toeing quick and stealthy to the only source of light on this side of the school.  

Jeanie took a deep breath and knocked on the open door.  His back was to her, sitting with one foot up on the chair, a knee drawn up to his chest in the most awkward of positions.  His dark head was bent over an abundance of little digital boxes spread across a desk that he tinkered with under a magnifying glass.  Several computers and laptops spread around the room running codes attached to various projects simultaneously.  Lost in his work, he ignored her.

Sighing heavily, Jeanie knocked louder this time.  She raised one hand up the door frame, leaning in the most tempting pose she could muster at 11pm on a Thursday.  His head popped up, and he only glanced over his shoulder in her direction before going back to his work.  

“Well took ye long enough to find me, Miss Turner.  Wanna see what I’ve put together for the school?”  he queried without paying any attention to her attire.  

Jeanie felt the bile rise in her throat.  How in the hell was she ever going to feel better about herself when this man wouldn’t even acknowledge her?  Was it too late to just slip back down in the shadows and melt away like she never existed?  Still she took a breath and made her way to the desk and stopped directly behind him.  She bent forward over his shoulder, her hair brushed against his face and neck.  There was a nearly inaudible hitch in his breathing as she picked up one of the boxes.  Did she make him nervous?  Good, she thought and chewed her lip to prevent a smirk sneaking through.

“Well Mr Delaney.  Or is it McNamara?” She studied the box carefully and poked at it with her nail.

“Doctor” he interjected huskily.  He was nervous.  “I’ve got a PhD,” he corrected.

“Are you even old enough for a doctorate?!” she retorted.

“I’m 24, thank you very much.  I suppose that’s quite young to have several PhDs, but I don’t really keep track.  If it makes you feel better, I'm also a chef. Cooking is just science after all,” he said almost dismissively.    “Oh, That is L.I.S.A. you’re holding.  Large-scale Interface Security Application.”

Jeanie snorted; she couldn't help it.   “Do you mean an alarm system?”

“No it’s a specified security application that only I know how to program and,” he caught himself.  “Yes.  It’s an alarm system.”  He rolled his eyes and gently took the machine back from her and placed it amongst the others.

“If you're working with Gordon on some kind of secret project, why are you teaching Literature?” Jeanie launched into everything without really meaning to. “You know Dr Delaney or whoever the hell you are, several of the girls brought to my attention that there’s a character in those young adult novels written by Hannah O'Flaherty. “A Pool of Green Light?” They are quite popular with our 1st-4th years.  You're Billy Delaney aren't you?  That’s why you gave that name in the pub the other night instead of your real name.  That being Cormac McNamara, am I correct?”  She placed her hands on hips hidden in the mass of wool and cable knit.  

"Delaney is part of my last name. Hyphenated.” once again correcting the headmistress.

 "Don't see much of that in men" 

"Well it and my brain are about all my parents left me,” he moved to face his chair towards Jeanie and abandon his project. 

 "Well I bet they're proud of you, Cormac. Or Billy.  Whatever.” she waved her hand dismissively.  “You lot discovered.. what's it called?" 

"Dimensional Dark Matter Transport with the possibility of Inter and Temporal" 

"I mean, Portals. Or to put it in tv nerd terms: Beam me up Scotty" 

"Precisely!” Cormac exclaimed and stood up excitedly.  “And your ex-boyfriend-" 

"Husband" 

“Yes, husband.  Well couldn't have been good at it if he's your ex.” He bit a finger absently, staring off towards the ceiling.  Then snapped back to attention quickly,  “Well he wants to find a way to make it.. Portable. Not just in plotted locations around the globe. And my business partners, em Hannah and Brett if you will, would like it privatized. Dr Purves, he wants the highest bidder." 

"Military?” Jeanie blanched at the thought.  Then her voice drifted off, “So the books ARE real.. You three are real.  Hannah hid the stories in plain sight for the entire world to discover"  And for the first time, she noticed a framed photo on the vast desk.  A trio of happy young people: red-headed girl, pretty with large blue eyes.  A floppy haired, tan surfer type.  And a tall, lanky boy with oval glasses and severely parted hair starting to curl.  Jeanie took the frame and traced her fingertip along the glass. “Sarah, Zack and Billy.  This is like finding out Harry, Ron and Hermione are living, breathing people.  And here you are, in my school.”

"I could show you if you want but.. Miss Turner, why are you only in a sweater?" Cormac stepped back and lifted his glasses and put them back down. He took them off hurriedly as if he was embarrassed to be wearing them.  Turning once more to face her "Is.. Is that MY sweater? You're only in. Jeanie, Where are your pants?" 

"Well I planned on seducing you Mr.." 

"Doctor" -

Jeanie sighed as if she had been defeated, "DOCTOR Delaney-McNamara" 

"Well Ive mucked that up I suppose,” a deep crimson set across his ears.

" I mean you can have your sweater back,” Jeanie arched an eyebrow seductively. Pulling the sweater over her head to reveal only a pair of her nicest black panties and bra underneath.  Nothing else.

"Thank you it's quite my favorite-" Cormac’s eyes widened when he noticed the headmistress in front of him wearing nothing but lingerie.  He squinted briefly while scratching his head.  “Oh.. Jeanie. That’s..” his voice drifted off lost in shock.

Ignoring the embarrassment growing in her chest, Jeanie crossed her arms over her chest.  “Why in the hell did you take your glasses off?”

“Oh, em.. Hannah always tells me I’m far more attractive without them.” he shrugged.

“Just like how Clark Kent is only slightly, by a molecule,” Jeanie pinched her fingers together, “less sexy than Superman with his glasses" 

"But his glasses are fake,” Cormac ignored the obvious joke.  “Right now I can just see shapes. Lovely, curved shapes! but only shapes." waving a hand in her general direction again.

Jeanie sat down on his bed without the sweater, to protect her now she just decided to go with her original plan. She crossed her long legs and leaned back with one hand back on the mattress. "Ok give us a look with the glasses on, Delaney.. Mcnamara?" This was frustrating.

"No, I reckon I'll have the kids call me Cormac" his hands on thin hips as he glanced upwards in thought

"Yes, erase that line of authority between yourself and 11-15 year olds. Don't underestimate them, Billy.  Or Cormac.  Or whatever.  You are probably the smartest professor Saint Fergus has ever had, but you’re handsome.  My girls will eat you alive" 

"I wouldn't go that far!" he was exasperated for some reason. 

"You have five PhDs and can’t even legally rent a car in America yet," Jeanie pointed out. 

Cormac waved her off dismissively.  “No!  Not the smart or genius part.  That is true,” he agreed without pretension. “It’s the handsome part,” he rolled his eyes in frustration.  

“Look McNamara, I can’t tell if you’re being humble or an asshole.  Your constant squinting and inflamed cheeks are ruining my perception.”

"Inflamed.." he touched his face  "It's rather distracting. You in your.  I may realize now that's your intent. I'm not really NEW to this, uh women coming on to me. It's just not always quite so forward?"

 "Had I known you were a doctor of  Quantum Mechanics, my approach would be a little less intense. 10 quid or not, you were the one kissing me last night." Jeanie got up off the bed "Ill go, but can I take your sweater with me? The students don't need to see this" 

"Oh, em do ya have to? You're already here, and I'm sure quite lovely to look at." 

"Cormac put your glasses on" 

"Really?" he was adorably confused "I would have to take them off if we-" 

"Have sex?" 

"I didn't mean to imply- I've never really-" he nervously put his glasses back on. Then started fiddling with his hands and chewing on one. 

"No fucking way!” Jeanie sat up quickly “But you're-" 

"Oh please don't say hot." 

"Well-travelled?"

"I am not completely virginal, I'll have ye know! I've done tings. SEXY tings. I've put my mouth and fingers in places on a woman. I'm just picky about where I’d put my penis."  

Jeanie’s amused now, she can’t help it. An eyebrow raised and a laugh ready to escape because he's pacing around and gesticulating wildly now. "Are.. are you getting more Irish?" 

"MAYBE I AM!" he shouted louder than he meant to, then unexpectedly pulled his shirt over his head.

Jeanie laughed at the absurdity now. "Cormac. Or Billy, whatever you are more comfortable with." She kneeled on the bed coming to the edge of it. "We don't have to do this. I'm not asking you to justify your virginity; that your business. It’s a patriarchal construct anyways to make us feel like we have to engage in sexual activity.  Then when we do, we’re trash.  It’s a no-win situation for anyone. I LIKE you. We have all school year to get to know one another better."

“I think Dr Delaney-McNamara, but Cormac works just fine for you” his tone all at once softer and deeper.  

There was a weird electricity in the air, which very well could have been the obscene amount of tech equipment in the small dorm room.  It could have also been that the atmosphere switched so fast from mortification to that moment your body knows something is going to happen.  Jeanie’s head began to swim when she realized the young man in front of her was unbuttoning his jeans to step out of them.  

“Bloody hell...” was all she could utter before he wrapped her up in his arms.  

Jeanie’s hand on Cormac’s hip and the other tangled in his hair as they found themselves in another kiss.  Mouths dancing together.  She sat back and pulled him down so that he was laying completely on top of her now.  His skin was hot almost like a sunburn.  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Jeanie thought maybe a literal electricity had settled in him from using the portals so often all these years. Their tongues pushed back and forth, she realized his body began to feel similar to one of those static glass balls.  The kind you press your hand against and every single hair on your body raises?  It was strange and exhilarating and comical all at once. 

The thought was fleeting though because Cormac’s lips made its way down Jeanie’s neck.  The breath caught in her throat as he bit softly before trailing to her chest.  His large hand gripped the flesh of her hip, snaking it around to grab at her backside before settling it between her thighs.  The other struggled to unhook her bra while in their current position, his annoyance eliciting a giggle.  

Managing to roll them so that she was on top now, Jeanie deftly reached behind herself to finish the job.  Her breasts free, Cormac took one in his mouth.  His tongue was warm against her skin as he began to suck and lick at a nipple and the flesh around it.  Alternating between each hungrily, hand still lost in between her thighs.  A  finger began to trace the fabric of her panties.  

Audible gasp now, as Jeanie fumbled to reciprocate any way she could.  Kissing his forehead?  or rocking her hips against his hand, she began to float outside of her body. What was she doing?  Trying to feel wanted after all of this time?  Maybe give the other adults something to gossip about over the weekend.  Attractive new professor, the benefactor of Saint Fergus, fucking the boss his first week in.  Jeanie was his boss, but also his subordinate?  Because Cormac, with Brett and Hannah, owned her livelihood now.  

“What a fine mess we’re in, Delaney,” she managed amongst the new spate of kisses.  

Ignoring Jeanie’s frank statement, Cormac took to nibbling her throat again. Exchanging now for harder bites, just enough to let her know he had the upper hand. Fingers deftly pumping rhythmically with the pulsating of her body. He found that part of her with ease. The button Gordon never could without neon arrows. 

“I walked through an alien portal at sixteen and made one of the greatest scientific discoveries none of us can talk about,” That Irish lilt heavy in her ear. “A fine mess has been the last decade of my life, Ms. Turner.”   

There was almost a reckless abandon as Jeanie unexpectedly came. She cried out; it echoed off the dorm walls briefly before Cormac clamped a hand over her mouth. Their eyes both wide before they lost themselves in a fit of giggles. 

Lying beside each other now on the bed, Jeanie felt self-conscious while Cormac absently twirled a finger in her mass of red hair. She felt his green eyes staring as she traced the infinity symbol with the tip of a nail on his chest. Their breathing patterns quickly marched in time together.

“Not sure why I have a gut feeling your timidity was a fucking game,” Jeanie spoke without a hint of anger. More like curiosity. 

“Only just a little. I am far more capable of handling people in small doses.  There's a  certain anxiety hanging around the average university student. I finished undergrad in a year and graduate school in another. Never really fit in with most people my age. I thrived in a boarding college like this one. Never more than 15 children a class. Miss Murphy let me do as I please because I kept mostly to myself, even when she and the others were strangely codependent on my brain.”  

Cormac’s eyes still trained on Jeanie while he spoke. “I didn't mind. I DON'T mind. My tinkering and projects work bloody fantastic now!” he exclaimed with pride. Those long fingers combed through Jeanie's hair. His gaze became nostalgic, “I transferred my AI tech into the lab at Aberdeen.  There's my  personal version.  She's asleep right now,” he chuckled, gesturing towards the wall of monitors. 

Jeanie grimaced, “She?!” 

“Oh yes! SILVIA! I suppose she'll become LISA’s big sister.” 

“You invented a primitive android.” her response was incredulous.

“No no. SILVIA was a lie detector I installed artificial intelligence in to play ch-..” Cormac caught himself. For the hundredth time that evening, “I suppose. Yes,” he tapped a finger against the soft dimple in his cheek. 

“You suppose!” Jeanie reeled with laughter once more.  

Cormac’s face flushed pink, “You know what I did to you was just basic anatomy that’s easily taught by reading a damn book. I reckon you'd be interested in what else reading has taught me about a woman's body.”

And so it began.