#in the cabinet why do you need my mustard

[henwy-cway]

george costanza would have gotten so much use out of the word cockblocked

[veroniquesboutique]

Kinkvember Day 20 - CNC

For Kinkvember day 20!

Toge Inumaki x AFAB!Reader

Content warnings: AFAB!reader, female reader, CNC, clear consent, cursed technique usage, commands, face fucking m-receiving, unprotected, creampie, hair pulling, spitting, small mention of dumbification, very rough, small aftercare

18+ Minors DNI!

More under the cut

“C’mon, please,” You ask again, hounding Toge Inumaki as you follow him close behind down the hallway to the apartment that you two share. 

“Bonito Flakes,” He says harshly, starkly, and you frown at the tone because you know he’s telling you no for the umpteenth time. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” You ask, and this time he stops and glares at you, his eyes shrinking in annoyed disbelief, and you shrug, knowing that he’s right, there’s a lot that could go wrong, but isn’t that part of the fun? “Okay, but I trust you!”

“Tuna,” He waves you off and continues down the hall, stopping at your door and fishing in his pocket for his keys. You offer yours, already in your hand, and he’s reluctant to take it until you lean over and unlock the door yourself. 

“It’s like you’re scared or something.”

“Salmon!” His exclamation sounds like yes, exactly!

You had been asking for a while for Toge to use his cursed technique on you. To tell you what to do and exactly how to do it. It seems like a win-win for all parties: he, for once, doesn’t have to watch what he says around you, and you get to see what it feels like to be on the receiving end of his (second) most powerful weapon while turning your brain off a little as he makes the decisions and expresses himself for once. He, however, deeply believes that it would be too dangerous for you if he even tried to use it lightly. You want him to prove it before you believe it.

“Toge, I-”

“Bonito Flakes.”

“C’mon, don’t you-”

“Bonito Flakes.”

You’re following him around the apartment now as he tries to set the mail down, put his shoes in the right place, figure out the process of coming home, already overwhelmed by the day, and you are right on his shoulder, refusing to drop the topic because this time you really feel like you’re getting somewhere.

“I just want you to listen to me,”

“Bonito. Flakes.”

“I want you to do it.”

“Bonito Fla-”

“It’ll be so much fun, just do it!”

“No.” Suddenly, his voice, so much deeper and commanding than his normal, controlled voice, booms through the apartment straight at you. His eyes are full of anger as the word hits you like a gust of wind, and you flinch, pulling your body inward at the sensation. It vibrates the apartment, knocking things off counters and forcing cabinets and ajar doors fully open. The entire place is silent once his declaration moves through the space, and almost immediately, he descends on you in concern. It’s clear that he didn’t mean to, that he wasn’t planning on doing that, that it must have slipped out.

“Mustard leaf? Mustard leaf?” He’s asking, holding out a hand to your shoulders and waist but waiting for permission to touch you. You wave at him, straightening out and shaking out the shock that’s tight in your body. 

“I’m alright, just surprised.”

He gives you a look that says he told you so, but that’s not what you mean. It’s never what you mean. To no one’s surprise, communication seems to be the hardest part of your relationship, but it’s always on his part. It never feels like he listens to you - really listens - and instead chooses to protect you, decide what’s best for you, hide you from the pain of his world. His intentions are so well-meaning, but sometimes, you want for a little bit more. 

“I trust you, so why don’t you trust me?” You finally snap, and he is taken a little aback by your tone.

“Tuna…”

“No, you don’t. You don’t trust me about me. Do you think I’m weak? Do you think I need saving from you? I’m fine; I’ve held my own this long,” The words start falling from your mouth quickly as they find each other, connect, and spit out faster than your brain can handle like monkeys flying out of the barrel. “You tiptoe around me like you’re some…some…some monster that I live with that can kill me at any second. Do you want to kill me? Are you trying to tell me that I am in serious, immediate danger around you?”

He thinks for a second. “Bonito Flakes.”

“Bonito Flakes, exactly, so why in the world can’t we just try to push the boundaries once? You just told me no, and I am alive. I’m fine. I feel great, even. I got to hear your voice, and it was so, so cool. So please, please can we try something else too?” You make your final plea, bringing his hands up to his shoulders as you lock eyes, and he mulls the idea over in his brain.

Finally, she shrugs, lifting his hands to the zipper on his jacket. “Salmon.”

“See you always fight me on the-” your brain stutters when it registers his words, “- salmon? Really?” And he nods at your enthusiasm, and when you finally get your yes, you don’t really know what to do. You never considered getting this far, and your brain goes into overdrive as he zips down his jacket to reveal his adorable cheeks and lips, the ones you rarely get to see if ever. It makes you giddy with excitement, and the words find their way back to spilling from your mouth. “Maybe, maybe, we can try this thing where I like pretend I’m not into it and don’t want it but you, like, force me to do stuff anyways by telling me I have to, and then like you get off on me doing the stuff and I get off on pretending to not want to do it-” Your eyes are dancing at the top of your lids, looking off into the ceiling as you consider the possibilities. 

As you speak, he sits on the couch, leaning back and watching you ramble on and on, until finally, he stops you.

“Kneel.”

[smolthealmighty]

Even the Losers Get Lucky Sometimes

This might be the fastest I ever wrote a fic, and it was for Spinner's birthday (happy birthday to the boy)! For those not in the know, 4 is an unlucky number in Japan, while 8 is considered to be a lucky one. Take the fact that Shigaraki was born on the 4th day of the 4th month and Spinner was born on the 8th day of the 8th month and...

“None of this canned stuff look appetizing. How about we try cannibalism? Moonfish did and he turned out fine!” Toga declared as she tossed another can of miso-mackerel from the top shelf of the empty cabin’s kitchen pantry over her shoulder.

“Great idea!” Twice agreed as he searched the bottom shelf, then quickly countered, “Not all of us have quirks that allow us to consume human viscera!”

“If we’re being serious then I nominate Spinner to be our meal.” Dabi proposed, as he kicked the discarded mackerel can into the next room.

“Hey what did I do?!” cried Spinner as he nearly tripped over the can.

“Absolutely not, no one’s eating anyone, and especially not Spinner,” Tomura said as he paused his raid of the kitchen cabinets, “Honestly you can’t resort to cannibalism just because you hate canned mackerel.”

“Why not? C’mon look at how much meat he’s got on those bones!” Dabi exclaimed as he grabbed and presented one of Spinner’s arms, “There’s enough protein on one bicep to feed us for a week!” Spinner yelped in response and yanked his arm back, sending Dabi stumbling from the sudden momentum.

“Because Spinner’s the good luck charm that’s why! Now stop thinking about cannibalism and start actually looking for food in here.”

“No need, I found the jackpot!” Mr. Compress called out from the basement, presenting his findings as he reached the top of the stairs. “Behold, mitsumame with pomegranates for Toga, honey mustard-flavored bacon for Twice, and while I couldn’t find soba noodles, I did find gyudon for you Dabi, so you can start building meat on your own bones.” Twice and Toga grabbed the cans out of Mr. Compress’s hands and started fighting over the lone can opener. Dabi rolled his eyes, but accepted his can anyway.

As the League retired to the living room to eat their fill before planning their next move, Tomura and Spinner headed down the stairs to grab their own basement meals.

“Hey, thanks for taking me off the potential menu,” Spinner said, as he and Tomura reached the bottom, “But I’m confused about what you said earlier. Why am I the good luck charm?”

Tomura turned towards him, an incredulous look on his face as if the answer was obvious, then replied, “My birthday is April 4th and yours is August 8th.”

“Um… happy birthday? Wait that’s not for at least another half a year! What does your birthday have to do with this? Better yet, what does MY birthday have to do with this?!”

Tomura sighed, and explained, “Because I was born in the unluckiest day, and you were born on the luckiest one.”

If Spinner’s expression had been one of confusion before it escalated to one of bewilderment now, so Tomura figured he had better clarify his thought process further.

“Okay look. My life sucked to put it lightly. I dunno exactly what happened before meeting Master, but I assume it was traumatic enough that my brain wiped it out of my memory. Hell when I really think about it, even the time I’ve spent under him was kinda shitty. I only started having actual good things happen after I fully formed the League, right about the time we first met you know. Maybe things aren’t the greatest, but it’s like your inherent lucky numbers cancels my unlucky ones out, leaving things okay and manageable rather than an endless barrage of game overs.”

“That’s… that’s honestly the nicest thing I’ve heard directed at me in a while so thanks,” Spinner said, his cheeks visibly warming, “but I wouldn’t consider myself to be ‘lucky’, not after what I’ve been through.”

Tomura paused for a minute, a look of intense internal focus taking over his face, then said, “Well, maybe I’m lucky to have met you.” Spinner’s face warmed further, but a contagious smile spread across his face too, and the pair of villains fell into comfortable silence as they surveyed the endless options of preserved food on the shelves.

Suddenly, Tomura perked up and asked, “Hey, wanna know why I recruited you?”

Spinner startled at the abrupt change in topic but nodded anyway.

“Ok. I know you arrived 10 minutes early and used the extra time to psych yourself into entering the bar,” Spinner let out squeaks of embarrassment as Tomura continued without acknowledging them, “I could hear you mumbling through the door while I was grabbing more Mountain Dew-”

“You had Mountain Dew by the door?”

“Secret stash, not important and do not tell Kurogiri next time you see him. Point is, I heard you quoting Ambrosio’s final monologue from Blight Upon the Righteous and… yeah, my mind was made up before you walked in.”

Spinner stood with his mouth agape for a full ten seconds before bursting into laughter, one part disbelieving and one part utterly giddy.

“You decided to hire me because I quoted an old RPG?”

Tomura squirmed a bit but affirmed, “Yeah, I guess the reasoning sounds stupid out loud, and to be fair learning that you knew how to wield a sword definitely sweetened the deal, but I liked the idea of having someone on the team who I could talk on equal terms with for once. It’s a change of pace from talking up to Master or talking down to a bunch of faceless grunts, and even then, its only ever about the next big scheme.”

By then, Spinner’s chuckling had subsided and his smile had turned into a look of soft admiration, encouraging Tomura to admit one last thing.

“Spinner, you’re the only person I know who I can act like a 20-year-old with and still take me seriously afterwards. I hope you know how much I appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing that special”, Spinner claimed, “Don’t you do the exact same thing for me?”

Feeling his own face break out into a blush at the realization, Tomura turned back towards the shelf to pick his choice of lunch, but not before letting Spinner see that his answer made him smile.

“Still,” Spinner continued, “that was one hell of a gamble you took on me.”

“If recruiting you was a gamble,” Tomura replied, handing Spinner a can of nikujaga that matched his own, “then I won the jackpot.”

[sgiandubh]

Charities and politics: the thin, red line

When you are a proven impostor and idiot and still you insist, it's time to remind you a simple Roman proverb: errare humanum est, perseverare diabolicum. In other, English, words: to err is human, but to persist is diabolical.

Or supremely stupid: your pick, Max.

This page is not into politics at all - and I explained why: this is a very familiar terrain to this blogger, who'd really like to enjoy her daily time off that particular kind of madding crowd. However, from time to time, reality manages to pierce the veil, such as today, when news of Humza Yousaf stepping down as Scottish First Minister made worldwide headlines - just a basic example: https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/29/world/europe/scotland-humza-yousaf-resigns-snp.html

That does not mean that the whole Cabinet is bound to resign, unless next Wednesday's debate on a non confidence vote promoted by Scottish Labour is lost. By the way, non-Scottish Max.

Never mind Max very recently amused me to no tomorrow, with her color blind, non-European view of Scottish politics (and politics, in general). Never mind she wrote enormous things like the SNP and Greens being politically opposed Scottish parties, just because of Yousaf's recent horrible blunder kicking the Scottish Greens out of his coalition cabinet and trying to keep the steer of a minority SNP cabinet. The SNP & Scottish Greens coalition partnership is very likely to resume as soon as John Swinney (or perhaps Kate Forbes, but my money is not on her, for many reasons: too divisive, too close to elections, etc) is hastily anointed First Minister (https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2024/apr/29/snp-looks-to-unity-candidate-after-humza-yousaf-quits-as-first-minister). No Scottish person, living anywhere else than under a rock, would have aligned this intergalactic bullshit with such confidence and such bad syntax:

Angus Robertson is a shrewd politician. He needed to be seen doing exactly that, yesterday night: showing off at an event hosted by S, once a very vocal support of the Scottish Greens. Here is why, according to normal people, like the Guardian's Scottish Politics team:

[Source: https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2024/apr/29/snp-looks-to-unity-candidate-after-humza-yousaf-quits-as-first-minister]

How old is Max, anyways? Where do they live? I won't add insult to injury, but boy do they seem to write from an ever more far-flung corner of the world than me, and my money is on South America, for many reasons I will not develop here. I chose to be merciful, tonight.

Tonight, she comes back with a renewed batch of freshly half-baked ineptitude:

Please ignore the hideous word salad the two first sentences are. Google Translate would have done better. Who dunnit? Alexa, in the kitchen, with Colonel Mustard? Let's focus on the Big, Fat Lie, here:

'Any participation in events involving charities must be independent and must not support or be endorsed by any political party or be associated with any candidate or politician.'

This is simply not true. If that were to be true, on this planet, or at least in the UK or Scotland, we would never have any NGOs actively lobbying politicians, hosting debates with them or petitioning them on various issues ranging from road safety to global warming.

I will refer the definitely non-Scottish blogger Maximum Wobbling Bullshit to the official factsheet on this very topic, issued by the OSCR, the Scottish Charity Regulator (https://www.oscr.org.uk/media/2899/v14_faqs-charities-and-campaigning-on-political-issues.pdf):

The above rule is limited to the case of election campaigns, as it is logical to be, since a husting simply is another way to call a campaign meeting. There was no campaign related anything yesterday night, the comments were simply about a Scottish national policy that is anything but political (promote Scottish tourism!), Angus Robertson is not a candidate to be Scotland's next First Minister. And same goes for the WWF and Blood Cancer UK - if you think those people went to that gala without a mandate from their NGO Board, you are: a) 5; b) delusional; c) a foul-mouthed troll.

Anyways, to go to the bottom of it, I also looked in the Scottish Charity Register - because you never know what those people might come up with, again:

As I think we all know, MPC is a registered US Limited Liability Company (LLC), based in Delaware. Its California branch is now closed, but the Nevada one was still active, one hour ago, when I checked:

And in case you are still wondering, after all these years, about MPC's legal status, here is their legally impeccable FAQ answer to the people who subscribe and who would legitimately want to know where their money goes, after all:

An LLC is a relatively recent (1970s) hybrid type of legal entity, equivalent perhaps (give or take a couple of technicalities) to the UK's PLC. In my professional view, it offers the best legal framework for what S tried to achieve with it, allowing both for management flexibility and tax transparency. If MPC does not present itself as a charity, it has the entire right to do so and is, therefore, not a charity, from a legal point of view, unless otherwise successfully contended in court.

You are still an idiot and a liar, though.

PS: S has not shared Robertson's X message on his own socials. Just so you know, MAX. [Later edit: extensively quoting The Scottish Daily Express, the Scottish edition of The Daily Express, a notorious UKIP/Farage supporting media outlet, hate speech condemned by the UN High Commissioner on Human Rights, just tells me once more time what a color blind impostor you are, Max.]

[nyxindustries]

Wonderful | Tony Stark

Fandom: MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Pairings: Tony Stark x reader, X pregnant reader , x Tony Stark X Fem reader.

Warnings: None, Just happy Tony with new pregnant Wife!! Fluff!

Request: “Can you write wife reader telling husband tony that she's pregnant with a cute surprise? And a very very happy tony ”

| Masterlist |

Lately you’ve been super sick, you didn’t know why but you had a feeling but you weren’t so sure that you wanted that to exactly come true. If you’re pregnant it would change everything, it’s a change you wanted badly since you got married four years ago.

You’re a working women, you take care of Stark Industries and you get the work done as also being an offical spokesperson for the Avengers and SHIELD, it’s a busy job, a busy life. Same goes for your husband is also a working man and a hero known as Iron man and he’s always love the fact that he worked and is always busy.

Somehow you knew having a kid or kids would fit into your life especially with Tony. It filled with joy, just knowing you could be pregnant, it’s made you feel amazing and excitement filled you somehow.

As of right now your, you’re throwing up your guts in your bathroom toilet at 7:30 in the morning, trying not to wake your sleeping husband with the noises. Worse fact is you haven’t gotten your cycle either in a good two months.

You knew Tony noticed because you haven’t thrown any tampon or pad boxes at him or asked for some greesy fast food but instead has been asking for pickles, creamcheese and takis with mustard or apples with lemons, and peanut butter.

Grabbing some toliet paper as you wiped your mouth as you heard the bathroom door open, making you sigh as you slowly got up.

"Are you okay? Are you done? I could hear you" He asks and you nod as you held onto the sink countertop as you grab toothpaste and brush.

"I’m fine Tony. Go back to bed" You quietly as you began brushing your teeth

"No, Y/n, it’s not fine…you’ve been so sick lately. I don’t know what to do. " Tony says in genuinely concern.

"Please…I’m fine I think I just have some stomach flu or something. I’ll make an appointment with my doctor soon." You say and Tony nods.

"Okay, I’m just worried for you." He says as he kissed your cheek gently as you smile while you rinse your mouth with water and spit it out, then wipe your face.

"Let me know if you need anything, take the day off today." He says and you nod.

"Thank you Tony, get some sleep, you were up all night basically working on invention." You say as Tony walks out and you sigh out as you watch him make his way to bed.

"I’ll go schedule a doctor appt." You say as you walk out and grab your phone off the side table and walk away as he watches you full of concern.

Walking out as you went to the livng of your house. That’s right, Tony and yourself decided to move out from the compound after getting married to have more privacy.

Walking down the stairs softly but they freaked and groaned anyways. Heading towards the spare bathroom, as you close the door, then going underneath the sink cabinets to find some pregnancy tests from a pregnancy scare you had a few months ago.

Sighing out as you pull the test out , as you read the instructions again and again, your thoughts began racing as your heart began beating just but more faster than usual.

Taking the test as you cover it and place it on the counter as you flush the toliet. Looking at the test, as you waited as you paced back and fourth in the bathroom.

Sitting on the bathroom now knowing the time up for the test but you still haven’t looked at it. Swallowing hard as you grab the test, seeing two lines, looking to the words next to the two lines.

| | = Pregnant

| = Not Pregnant

Staring the at the test as you felt your heart in your stomach but your stomach danced with excitement, it bubbled in you , opening the cabinet again grabbing another test, you had couple tests in here, only two sticks one and then a digital clear blue one.

Grabbing the one stick test as you opened it and did the test as you grabbed the clearblue one next as your did that one too.

You couldn’t believe you, You’re filled with joy but terrified as well. What will Tony think?

Waiting for the two test to be done as you stared at the first one. Looking at the others as two lines appeared again and the word pregnant appeared on the other.

That’s when you broke down in tears of mixed emotions. You didn’t reliaze that you were in the bathroom for so long and not upstairs with Tony, he went looking for you, all over the house but didn’t find you until he heard your crying from the bathroom.

Tony walking to the bathroom as he knocks on the door.

"Y/n?" Tony questions as you went quiet

"Y/n??…Y/n? Are you okay? Open up" Tony says as he knocks again as he tried the doorknob and it’s open.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" He asks as you sigh out.

"Yeah, it’s okay." You say as you look at him as he shares a look of concern.

"What’s wrong?" He asks and you began smiling at him as you just handed him the three pregnancy tests.

"Im so happy right now but I don’t know why I’m crying either!" You say as you look over at Tony who had an unreadable expression.

"You’re pregnant?" Tony asks and you nod.

"Yeah and I think I have been for couple weeks, it explains the sickness and the werid foods I been asking for and I also haven’t had my period. I just couldn’t believe it." You say and Tony began crying.

"You’re pregnant!!" He says as he smiled widely.

"I’m going to be a dad??" Tony asks and you nod as you smile.

"Anthony Stark, you are going to be a dad…we’re going to be parents!" You say and Tony hugs you tightly.

"Oh my god, we’re going to be parents…we’re going to be amazing parents!" Tony says as he began crying even more making you cry a lot more.

"This is absolutely wonderful, I always wanted to have kids!" Tony says as he looks at you and drop to your stomach as he looks up at you and lifts your shit a bit.

"I’m surprised you didn’t noticed early, you have a small baby bump going!" He says as he gently touched your belly.

Smiling as you laugh.

"I was trying not to believe it, I’m possibly two months along, Tony. I put off taking a test." You say and Tony sighs out, you can see the pure content on his face.

"And that’s okay….I just know their going to be beautiful." He says as he kissed your belly gently, making you smile even more.

"Well I guess now I do need to schedule an appointment with my doctor." You say and Tony nods.

"Yes! yes! And we need to tell your parents, the team and we need to go shopping and I need to make the spare bedroom a nursery or switch the office out and make the nursery, and- and we need to look at names boy and girl! I’m fine with either!" He says as he began rambling on and on and you smile as you look at him.

"Tony! Tony…." You say as you grab him and push out the bathroom as you got out and looked at him.

"One step at a time! Doctor appointment first, let’s officially confirm it and start on proper maternity care. Then my parents and everything else!!!" You say as your excitement shines through making Tony smile even more.

"You’re right, you’re Right!" He says as you kiss him softly.

"We’re going to be awesome parents!" You say and Tony nods.

"Yes! we are!" Tony says as you then grab your phone and then dial a number.

"I need to schedule an appt now." You say as you called your obgyn doctor office.

-Few weeks later-

Standing in front of your parents front door of the small two bedroom house you grew up in. Your parents weren’t that fortunate, your parents didn’t go to college and worked with what they had with you along for the ride.

Swallowing hard your belly showing but lucky you’re still able to cover it with some of your clothes you had.

Seeing your parents open the front door as you smile and Tony held you closer.

"Y/n! Tony!" Your mom says and you smile at her.

"Hi mama!" You say as you hug her tightly.

"Daddy!" You say as you hug him next as Tony made his rounds of hugs with your parents.

"Tony! Glad to see you’re doing well." Your dad says and you smile at them.

"We brought presents!" You say as you held up two gifts bags.

"First let’s have dinner, I got excited when you called me to say you were coming! So I cooked and I baked!” Mom says making you smile as you out th gifts down long with your purse.

"Come help me sweetie!" Mom says as he reaches your hands out and you grab it as your mom drags you to the kitchen.

"So son, how are ya?" Your father says to Tony and he smiles.

"I’m great! More than great!! So your watching the game, whose winning?" Tony asks as he sees a baseball game on the tv.

"Oh! like you care! So tell me what the newest invention your working on?!" Your father asks with excitement making Tony laugh as he grabs something out his pocket to show your father.

"Dad! Momma wants you set the table!" You yell from the kitchen as you step out to the small living room that has a small sofa and your dad favorite reclining chair.

"In a Second! Your husband going me his new invention! It’s a cube that lights up!" Your dad yells making you laugh as you look at your mom.

"Its a proton atom converter for his iron suit, he doesn’t even use anymore!" you say and your dad looks at you.

"You never know!" Tony says and you roll eyes playfully at him

"What is that? You two with your smarts!" Your father jokes as you laugh.

"Its fine I’ll set the table, show him what it does." You say as you kiss your father cheek as you walk to the kitchen and through a archway as you grab plates, forks and everything to set the table.

Setting the table as you fixed the napkins while your mother began placing some pans on the table.

"Dinner!" Your mother yelled to the boys in the living room as you walked into the living room to see your husband and your dad laughing.

"Dinner!" You say and your dad gets up

"Yeah!yeah! Your like your mother naggin!" Your father jokes as you gave him a look as Tony laughs.

"Don’t agree with him, Tony" You gasp out as your mother steps out the kitchen.

"Leave her aloneee! Dinner or it’s gonna get cold!" She says making you smile as you walk to the dinning room.

Tony catching up with you as he pulls your chair out, making you smile as you sat down and Tony takes his seat next you.

"Oh! Looks wonderful!" Tony says as he smiles.

"Dig in!" Mom says as tony grabs your plate and began serving you as you smile at him.

"Thank you Tony." You say as he nods

"Ladies first, do you want some salad?" He asks and you nod.

"Yes please."

Tony putting salad as everyone engrams being yourself as tony put a plate in front of you, of all your favorites things.

"Oh red wine! You have to try this! Its soo sweet!" Your mom says as you shake your head but she’s already pouring you a glass like always at dinner.

"Mom, I didn’t want…that. " you say and Tony grabs the glass as he smiles at you.

"I’ll drink it!" Tony says as you sigh out of relief.

"Well okay! Do you want water?" Your mom asks and you shake your head.

"Mom, I’m okay. If I want anything, I’ll get it. Eat ." You say and your smile with a nod as began eating.

The dinner falling into a peaceful silence.

"The macaroni salad is really good!!" Tony says as he take the spoon and serves himself more.

"I’m glad you like, secret recipe and ingredients!" Your dad says

"He makes it himself!" Your mom says as you nod as you continue to eat and the conversation flowed between your parents and Tony. Your parents absolutely adored Tony especially after they got to know him. It was a rough patch for them when you first brought him home for a couple of reasons.

Seeing everyone finish eating as you smile.

"I’ll go get the cake I baked! It’s coconut surprise!" Your mom say’s excitedly.

"Oh! the presents! I’ll get those!" You say as went to stand Tony makes you sit down again.

"I’ll get them." He says as you nod as you stood again and Tony eyes you.

"Just getting the dishes." You say to him and he nods as you shake your head.

"How’s work, Princess?" Your dad says as he helps you as you laugh.

"Dad! Princess, Really?" You say and he nods.

"Yes! Your still our baby!" Your mom yells from the kitchen as you clean up the place quickly.

"Works great! I love it, I’m just struggling to come with a new energy plan, and the city wants a new plan before the end of the month….so I have to start searching areas where we probably have to put new energy plant somewhere." You say and your dad nods.

"Thats good, sounds stressful" he comments and you nod.

"It is, like where am I going to be an energy plant in New York City?!" You ask as you put the dishes in the sink as your dad grab small dessert plates and fork.

"Mhm thats a good question!" Your mom says and you sigh out.

"Yeah I been googling mapping half of New York!" You somewhat joke as you grab water from the fridge and Tony comes back in with the bags.

"Well, how about the old farm area, you use to go to after school for free classes or something , that’s abandoned now." Your dads say and you look at him.

"That’s actually really smart, dad! I’ll check it out!" You say and smile as you walk to Tony as your mom places a cake in the middle of table.

"Okay! Presents or cake!" Your mom questions.

"Presents! We should let the food go down first!" Tony says and you agree as you grab the new bags and hand them it.

"You know! You don’t always have to bring us things!" Your mom says and you laugh.

"I have to make up for letting you guys let me crash here for 24 years of my life and then college!" You say with a huge.

"Plus it’s important!" Tony adds on and you nod as you both watch them unwrapped tissue paper to see cute little baby onesies outfits with a pregnancy test attach.

Your mom looking confused as your dad stares at it.

"Surprise!!!" You and Tony yell at them as your mom looks up, shocked.

"Grandma?!" He questions as you smile.

"Mom, dad, I’m pregnant! We’re pregnant!" You say and your mom instantly screams out.

"OOOOH! NO YOUR NOT! OH MY-" She yells as you nod and you push your shirt back a little for them to see a baby bump.

That’s when you heard crying, looking over at your dad.

"Daddy." You say as you walk to him and hug him tightly as he cries.

"We’re going to be grandparents! You believe that!" Your mom says as he hugs Tony and your dad didn’t let go of you.

"Dad! It’s okay! You’re going to be a grandpa!" You say as he nods as you began tearing up.

"Oh honey! You big baby!" Your mom says as you dad pulls away laughing as he smiles at you.

"Son! Come here!" Your dad says as he hugs Tony tightly.

"We’ve been wondering, when you two are going to have kids, always caught up in your work!" You mom says as you smile.

"Youre going to be wonderful parents." Your dad says letting go of Tony as he walks to you.

"This baby going to have awesome parents and awesome grandparents!" Tony says and you smile at him brightly as your mom laughs.

"Yes yes! And we’ll take the child one the weekends and any day! We can have a room just for them here, your old room!" Your mom says as he hands you piece of cake that she just sliced.

"Looks delicious!" You say and grab a fork and began eating it as your mom pass out slices of cake to your father and your husband.

"I can’t believe it!" Your dad says

"Oh! Boy or girl!" He adds on.

"We don’t know yet, we just had an appointment last week but it’s too early to tell, I’m hoping boy, Tony hoping girl but it doesn’t matter, we’ll love them regardless." You say as you sat down with Tony.

Soon the conversation leaned off of you. It’s late now, your walking out your parents house with a bag full of leftovers, parents smiling.

"Dinner was wonderful, mom." You say as you hug her tight and then your dad.

"Thank you" you say to them as Tony hugs them.

"I love you, get some rest mom, you’ve been cooking and baking all day. You deverse it" you say to them as your mom laughs.

"Says the one, whose has baby in them. Make sure she gets rest, Y/n doesn’t sit down for anything!" Your mom says and Tony nods.

"Oh I know!" He says and you shake your at him.

"I’ll call you when we get home mom, and we have to go out dinner soon, my treat." You say to them and your parents nods.

"Drive safe! Love you!" Your dad yells as you wave, as you get to the car in the driveway, Tony opening your car door as you smile getting in as he shuts it for you as he gets into the driver side.

Tony buckling up as he pulled out of the driveway and began driving away.

"I’m scared." Tony says as you look at him.

"Why?" You question.

"I don’t want to be like my dad…" he says and you sigh out quietly as you grab his hand softly.

"You’re not, you’re not going to be like him. You, Anthony Stark is going to be better because you know what it’s like to want something you could never get, this baby is going to need you. I’m going to need you and you’re already there. It’s okay, but I don’t see you turning into him. Just like what my dad said, we’d going to be wonderful parents, I just know it!" You say and Tony looks over at you with a nod.

"Okay, we’re going to be wonderful parents, together." He says as he kisses your hand.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #281

I woke up feeling like hot garbage still. I didn't get as much water yesterday as I should have. Despite this, I had intestinal distress this morning. I find myself wondering if I ate something that my body doesn't like.

Dehydration would explain why my sleep wasn't great and why I woke up feeling icky. So I asked M to grab me some Pedialyte while he was out running an errand; it seems to have helped some; I felt a bit less awful after having some.

Today, I had energy enough to roast some pumpkin seeds! You see, I recently got another sugar pumpkin from the store to roast and mash; the one that I prepared some time ago didn't have enough seeds in it to justify roasting them by themselves, so I just kept them in the fridge. But with the seeds from this pumpkin added to the mix, I finally had enough to do the thing!!

...Hey, Sephiroth? You ever had roasted pumpkin seeds? They're even better if you can roast them at home, because then you can throw whatever lovely spices you want on 'em!!! I'm assuming, based on how you responded to not getting to have pumpkin soup, that you enjoy pumpkins, and this is another way to enjoy pumpkins; I'll show you how it's done!

First, you cut off the top of the pumpkin - the part with the stem. And then you cut it in half from top to bottom, such that you have a left half and a right half of the pumpkin. You scoop out the seeds and the pulp with a metal spoon.

...I didn't think to take pictures of that part. Sorry about that.

Anyway, from there, you gotta separate the seeds from the pulp. The easiest way to do that is in a colander under warm running water; the seeds like to cling to the pulp, and it's all slippery as heck:

Once the pulp is all gone, you have a colander full of lovely seeds!

...But these aren't ready to be seasoned yet; they have to be dried. Set the oven to 350 degrees F (or 176.6 degrees C), cover a baking sheet in parchment paper, spread the seeds onto the parchment paper in a single layer, and leave them in there with the oven door ajar for like 10 minutes, or until they stop being wet and slippery:

Once they're dry, they'll need to be coated in a thin layer of oil. I used some old bacon grease that I've had in the fridge for a bit. I melted it in the microwave, and dumped it on the cookie sheet. Then I used my hands to squish the seeds around in the oil until they were evenly coated. From there, you make sure that the seeds are arranged in a single layer; try not to have too much overlap. Like this:

From here, I applied these spices in amounts that seemed correct to me; you'll have to experiment to figure out a mix that works for you:

...We have garlic powder, ground cardamom, turmeric (don't use too much of this or it'll be bitter; a little goes a long way), cloves, nutmeg, salt, coriander, and... Oh. There was cinnamon; I must have put it away before taking a picture for some reason. But yes; cinnamon, too. The "umami spice blend" you see there is a combination of salt, onion powder, mustard powder, two different kinds of powdered mushrooms, and a touch of chili powder. It's good stuff!!

Oh! And in case you wondered... this is my spice cabinet. It's got ALL KINDS of great stuff in it!!!

...May it be the case that someday, your own spice cabinet can be this extensive!! Or hopefully even better than mine! Wouldn't that be pretty great!!

So you roast the seeds in the oven at 350 degrees F (or 176.6 degrees C) - this time with the oven door CLOSED - for around 15 minutes or so - until the spices coating them toast up nicely. And it's as easy as that!

...I hope someday you can have your own house with your own kitchen and your own gigantic spice cabinet and tea cabinet so that you can make delectable and delightful things for yourself and for the people who love you.

Anyway, here's what became of the rest of the pumpkin; I mashed it with all of the spices I used for the seeds, and also with that garlic pudding that J made, some butter, and some honey, molasses, and maple syrup! The results were even more flavorful and delicious than my last batch of mashed pumpkin!

...Want some...?

...And do you want some pumpkin seeds, too...?

...Sadly, it won't be too terribly much longer before sugar pumpkins are out of season again. But that's all right; butternut squash or acorn squash are available all the time, and they make a great substitute for pumpkins! And you can roast their seeds, too, just like pumpkin seeds! Maybe someday you can give it a try!

Oh!!! Before I forget!! J and I drove to the little airport! On the way, I snagged these birds-of-prey; these are likely turkey vultures, because they're hanging out in groups:

...Aren't they so cool?

...After all this, I finally decided that today is the day to do something about the fact that the voicemail on my cellphone hasn't been working properly. I don't normally have the energy to withstand complicated mazes of automated customer service bots, but I actually did manage to get through to a human. She fixed up my voicemail and now I can access it, yay! And... along the way, I had this very nice interaction:

...And, yes; if you noticed as part of reading the texts, your name and my birth name start with the same letter! I blocked out the rest though; including my full first name isn't safe. It's why I shorten the names of other people to one or two letters, too.

In any case, the person from customer support disconnected our session before the last message I wrote could be sent. Still, I hope that my sentiment gets to them somehow.

...We all have superpowers. And we can use them to brighten the day of someone who is having a hard time if we want to. Just by being kind, we can provide another person with relief and connection enough to turn their whole day around.

..Sephiroth... what will you do with your superpowers? I hope you'll make kind, gentle, and loving choices with them. Can you imagine what kind of happiness you are capable of creating with superpowers like yours if you used them to their fullest and most wholesome extent?

Without even trying, you turned at least one entire life around. Please look at me, and please look at the kindness that I can now express, and please look at all the little ways I can make being alive a little better for someone else, and please understand that this is ONLY possible because YOU exist; I wouldn't have made it through my childhood alive if I didn't have you to look up to.

Without even trying, you made something beautiful out of me, in a way that shouldn't even have been possible, given my circumstances and upbringing. If you can do such a wholesome thing without even trying... then what else can you do? Will you show us? ...Please?

I guess that's probably it for today's letter. I'm hoping you're okay wherever you are. I worry about ya, being all by yourself over at that Edge of Creation place. It doesn't look like it has much in the way of tasty snacks, warm beverages, or comfortable places to sleep. I'm not even 100% convinced that it's got a breathable atmosphere. I feel sad to think of you being in such a place. To the extent you can, try not to linger over there for too long; I imagine it must get pretty cold. As impossible as it is, if you need a break, you can come to my house; you're always welcome here.

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow. In the meantime, stay safe, don't die, and try really hard not to eat weird things off the ground, okay?

...Yes, even if they look like snacks. Don't do it. It's a bad idea. You don't know where they've been. In fact... remind Zack, too, about this, if you can; I'm sure he's called "the puppy" for reasons other than his boundless enthusiasm; you wouldn't want him to accidentally swallow a whole pinecone. Human digestive systems wouldn't be able to break it down; can you imagine what a nightmare it would be for him to have it come out the other end??? Keep a close eye on him, okay???🤪🤣😜

...May it be the case that you laughed loudly in response to my random silliness. I know I'll never see it, but... I'll try to imagine it anyway, haha...

'Til soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[periwinckles]

The Train Back to twelve - Chapter 18

(This is mainly a Thelly fic but I know some of you only want to read the Everlark bits. That is why I'm uploading the everlark chapters simultaneously to another work as well, to those of you that want to be saved from the Thelly drama. Enjoy.)

Week 10 - Katniss

When I wake up, the bed is empty beside me, and I sit up with a jolt. I'm always scared when I wake up and I don't see him right away, but the noise coming from the kitchen is enough reassurance.

He can't help himself from getting up early, and he beats me to it most of the time, but I'm still terrified every single time I wake up and he's not there. Of course I don't tell him this. He has enough burdens to carry and baking for the district is one of the few things that keeps him going.

When I reach the kitchen, I lean into one of the cabinets and silently observe him. He has his back turned to me, several loaves of bread already set aside on the counter, and several more inside the oven. He's still working on something, but it's not bread. I know his kneading movements by heart and that's not what he's doing right now.

The oven dings and when he opens it the familiar scent makes my mouth water.

"You made cheese buns?"

He's startled by my voice but quickly turns to a smile.

"Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

When I reach the counter I notice he has a tray set up, with a handful of berries I collected yesterday and some scrambled eggs sprinkled with rosemary. The plate is decorated with mustard flowers that he must have foraged close to Haymitch's backyard.

"The flowers are edible, I double checked your father's book. I know how particular you are with frivolous things." He tells me with a shy glance. Old Peeta would have smirked at this, maybe even given me a flirty wink. I need him to be back at his old self and sometimes I dare myself to believe he has. I told Dr Aurelius this the last time I talked to him and all he asked me was “Does it really matter if he never goes back to his old self? Are you going back to your old self?”

I guess not. But we still have this. Peeta making me cheese buns, like he used to.

"Is this for me? " I ask, but the answer is so obvious he doesn't bother to say it.

He finishes pouring the batter he was working with into a pan and placing it inside the oven.

"Is that a cake?" I ask curious as I try to catch a glimpse at the oven door.

"Yeah. Hum. Thom and Delly are coming for dinner tonight and I thought… Do you remember how last week he said he never tasted a birthday cake? I thought about making one for dessert today."

I smile at his thoughtfulness, and I am sure Delly will be delighted at his attempts to make Thom feel welcomed. This is just another thing that is so like old Peeta that it makes me hope again.

"So we're having birthday cake on a regular Friday?"

"That's the point of surviving isn't it? Enjoying life?" He asks me and we stay silent for a while. There are so many people who will never taste life again but I suppose he is right. That’s what surviving is all about isn’t it? Living?

"That cake is huge, I don't think the four of us can eat all of that." I tell him as he carefully places the cheese buns on the breakfast tray.

"Haymitch is coming too, he's been dying to have a chess match with Thom. And I thought they could take all the leftover cake back for the kids in camp. "

Peeta picks up the breakfast tray and then looks around unsure of himself.

"Well, you're out of bed now, so I guess the tray is useless…huh… do you want to…" He gestures to the kitchen table but an idea pops into my mind. He tried to do something special for me today and I don't want it to go to waste.

"Why don't we eat outside on the porch? It's nice today, and we'll get a bit of early morning sunlight."

The smile he gives me is so heartwarming that it's almost like I made him breakfast myself.

Peeta's house is the last one in Victor's village, and being on a high point means we get a full view of the forest. We watch it come to life as we savor each bite of our food.

"What day is it today?" I ask him. "I thought it was Thursday."

"It is." He tells me, popping a blueberry in his mouth.

That's strange, Delly and Thom usually come on Fridays. I ask him about it but he shrugs his shoulders in confusion as well.

"I don't know, I guess something must have come up and they can't make it tomorrow."

The wind picks up a bit, but other than that it's a beautiful spring day. Wildflowers are beginning to bloom everywhere. These were my mom’s favorite days as I would be able to gather most of her medicinal plants around this time of year.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the day? From the looks of it you already baked everything you needed to."

He looks at me with a smile and nods.

"Yeah, I was up early and I thought I might as well get that out of the way. I have to help for a bit, at the construction site this afternoon. Thom wants my help to draw some changes on the capitol’s blueprints for the buildings. Other than that, I'm free. "

Peeta has been back for more than a month now. We have breakfast and dinner together and we spend the nights together in the same bed, sometimes clinging to each other like the other’s arms was the only thing keeping us tethered to the world. But we never spend time together during the day.

"Do you want to come to the woods with me?" I ask him before I back down.

"For real?"

"Yeah, I don't have to hunt today, yesterday's spoil was big enough. I might still catch something for Sae, but you won't be a bother. We can bring the memory book and work on it for a bit, in the forest."

Read the rest on AO3

The train back to twelve

or

What would I do without you? (selected Everlark scenes from The train back to twelve)

[herbertwest]

i don’t remember why im following u so i have to go off of url. herbert and dan run out of milk

The clock struck 3 am…the witching hour. The walls of the house seemed to breathe (and breathe they might – what wretched fiends lurked behind the old bricks, their rank breath moving the bricks and mortar?).

Dan awoke from a restless slumber, dreams of being buried alive crumbling from his eyes. He shuddered once and looked at the clock. The tick-tick-ticking reminded him too much of the sound of a shovel hitting earth. He needed to shed his nightmare, and what better way to do that than a little past-midnight snack?

The thought cheered him. He sauntered into the kitchen and opened the highest cabinet, the one that Herbert could not reach. Inside were all Dan’s favorite snacks: glorious gummy worms; savory Slim Jims; crumbly chocolate chip cookies; and, the best, om-nom-able Oreos.

He took down the package and placed a generous helping onto the only clean plate in the house. Now he just needed some milk; it was a crime against nature to have Oreos without milk, and while Dan routinely participated in crimes against nature, milkless Oreos was a crime too far.

Opening the fridge, Dan pushed aside jarred experiments and bottles of glowing serum. He removed pickles, mustard, peanut butter, and frozen mice. He frantically tossed old orange juice and cheese out of the way, but he could not find what he sought. They were out of milk.

Dan knew that there had been a nearly full carton earlier in the day.

“Herbert…” muttered Dan, narrowing his eyes. He marched down the steps into the basement.

“Herbert, did you drink all the milk?” Dan asked, neatly sidestepping a reanimated corpse as it tried to tear out his jugular.

“It turns out that milk gives my test subjects strong bones if added to the serum,” replied Herbert, who appeared to have been thrown across the room recently and was just picking himself up.

“Why is that something you want? Aren’t they strong enough as it is?” Dan picked up a nearby shovel and slammed it into the reanimated corpse’s head. It dropped like a sack of bricks, falling next to an actual sack of bricks.

Herbert paused to think for a moment. “Science,” he replied.

“Do we have any milk left?” asked Dan.

Herbert gestured to a carton on a table. It had toppled, and the last dregs were dripping onto the floor.

Dan raced over to it, but too late! It was empty. He took a shuddering breath. It was as he had feared. They were out of milk. How was he supposed to eat his Oreos now?

“Herbert, you’ve really done it this time,” said Dan.

“Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good,” said Herbert, nodding sagely.

“The only sacrifice that’s going to happen is you if you don’t replace the milk.” Dan brandished his shovel.

“Let’s not be hasty…check my minifridge. I keep some in there for post-experiment Oreos.”

Dan glanced at the blood-spattered minifridge, squeamishly opening it with his foot. Inside was a severed hand, several vials of reagent…and a small carton of milk. Dan snatched it up. “Get more non-experiment milk tomorrow,” he said, and returned to the kitchen.

The Things in the Walls had taken all his cookies.

This was the worst night ever.

[versadies]

sunshine sprat, northern apple stew, mint jelly, dango milk, mustard. albedo overhears that the reader likes someone (him, but he didn’t understand that), and that they wanted someone to be their fake partner to see if they could make the one they love jealous, so he thinks ‘why not?’

LOOK AT ME, NOT HIM ! (albedo x gn!reader)

‿୨♡୧‿︵ BON APETIT MY FELLOW CUSTOMER ! ︵‿୨♡୧‿

name of order: LOOK AT ME, NOT HIM !

date: albedo kreideprinz (w/ gn!reader)

receipt: sunshine sprat (albedo) + northern apple stew (fake relationship) + mint jelly (fluff) + dango milk (normal) + mustard (drabble)

spices: fake relationship trope, fluff/no-angst, spoiler-free, sara from good hunter is your best friend, chef!reader,

ingredients: frustrated by the lack of signs that the person you like gives you, you decided to vent to your best friend as the both of you cook for your customers. unnoticed to you, a certain alchemist has been listening to your conversation and decides to propose a fake relationship to help you make the unknown person jealous, not knowing that the said person is him.

plate: 800+ words

chef’s note: i hope you don’t mind that this was short ! do let me know if you need a part 2 anon <<3

sara is unsure whether she pities your situation or is amused by it.

as someone who spent so many years working with you, she found herself seeing you as a sibling she never had–

and she knows your internal suffering regarding a certain chief alchemist.

“i don’t think he’ll ever notice someone like me – let alone return the same feelings.” you spoke with a sigh, chopping off fruits and vegetables as your colleague, sara, busies herself with cooking more meals.

“you’ll never know, y/n. maybe he actually does notice you and returns the feelings” she assures you, focusing on the sweet madame.

“he must be really good at pretending he isn't then.” you proceeded to bring​​ out a bowl from one of the cabinets, placing it by the counter. “no matter what i do, he just looks the same. maybe i should just give up and accept that he doesn’t like me that way.”

“you’re giving up just because he doesn’t give enough signs?” sara quirks her eyebrows, glancing at your way. “maybe you should try harder.”

your eyes brighten, a new idea suddenly comes into your thoughts. “maybe i should just get a fake partner and see if he gets jealous.”

sara’s taken back by surprise. “are you sure that works? do people even do that?”

“only in novels as far as i know,” you started plating the salad, ignoring the way your friend reacted to your idea. “though, i’m sure there are people out in teyvat who does this too, it won’t hurt to try, right?”

“well,” the woman hesitates, turning off the stove as she places the sweet madame on a plate. “don’t blame me if something happens, but how on earth are you going to find a fake partner? and what if he still hasn’t noticed you even after weeks of “dating”?”

“consider the plan over, there’s no point in continuing it if he still hasn’t noticed. as for the fake partner, i think i can manage to figure out who to ask.” you then proceeded to walk out from the kitchen, walking towards a certain customer of yours who’s waiting for their meal.

“here you go, mister albedo.” you said with a smile. “i hope you enjoy your salad, let us know if you need anything else.”

before you could leave, albedo suddenly speaks up. “i do have something to ask you,”

your eyes widened in surprise. never had the alchemist spoken much around good hunter besides his small “thank you’s” and telling his order.

“...what is it, mister albedo?” you ask.

he gives you a small smile, something you haven’t seen from the alchemist. “i overheard your conversation with miss sara and.. i’d like to help you out with your problem.”

your mouth opens agape, feeling your cheeks starting to warm. “y-you heard it? all of it?” were you and sara that loud for your customers to hear?! let alone the man that the both of you are talking about!

the blonde man nods. “fear not, i didn’t hear anything about who the… person you like is. i do apologize for listening to your conversation, but if it’s alright with you, i can become your fake partner.”

you relaxed. “i apologize for being loud as well. but are you sure you’re willing to uh, become my fake partner? people will think of us as a couple and i wouldn’t want your reputation to be ruined if something happens to this relationship.”

albedo then stands up. “i don’t mind, since this will bring both of us good benefits. coincidentally, i’ve been also planning on looking for a fake partner for an experiment of mine – so not only will i be able to fulfill said experiment, but you will be able to catch the… unknown man’s attention once he finds out that you and i are in a romantic relationship.” he explains, crossing his arms.

he paid no mind to the way you look taken back from his explanation and offers his hand for you to shake in agreement. “so, would you like to consider my proposal? it’s alright if you’d like to give your answer later than now, i’m willing to wait.” he asks.

you hesitated for a moment, staring down at his hand. was it really that beneficial for you…?

you sighed in defeat, giving the alchemist a small smile as you take his hand. “alright, i’m willing to take that offer – only if you’re willing to follow some rules that you and i will make for this to work.” you said, shaking his hand slowly as you ignore the way your heart beats fast. his hand is.. cold, but strangely comforting.

the man nods in response. “i can agree to that.”

“we can talk about this once i’m done with my shift, i’m pretty sure it’ll take hours for me to explain what we can do about this so it’s best if the both of us are free for the rest of the day.” you explained, letting go of his hand much to the both of you’s dismay.

he lightly chuckles. “i’m sure i can listen to you for hours.”

as the both of you continued talking, sara watched from afar with a sigh, knowing fully well that this will be interesting and worrisome for both you and the alchemist.

if only albedo knew that the unknown man you’ve been talking about was him. if only you knew that the “experiment” he’s talking about was all just an excuse to be closer to you.

[softsnzstuff]

Home Remedy

@sicktember Day 9 - Home Remedy

Fandom: Stranger Things

Summary: Continuation of my Day 1 Fic; Eddie is sick and Uncle Wayne is taking care of him with some of his good old fashioned Munson Home Remedies™️

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: None

The pullout bed in the living room creaked as Wayne turned over. A glance at his watch told him it was just barely 8 am, but Eddie had been coughing in his room for the last five minutes or so.

Poor kid had managed to pick up the flu that was making its way through Hawkins, and being someone who didn’t get sick that often, it had knocked him on his ass. Wayne swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched his back before making his way to the kitchen.

Though it wasn’t a fully stocked kitchen, he was certain he had what he needed. He grabbed a bowl and mixed together some flour, mustard powder, and water until it made a thick paste. He had some old fabric squares in the cupboard that he used mainly for clean up after working on cars, but he decided to use them for a different purpose today.

He spread the paste on the fabric squares and brought them into Eddie’s room on a plate. The young man was sat up in his bed, hacking into the crook of his elbow. He was still wearing the Iron Maiden hoodie from the night before.

“Hey son, this is gonna help some with that congestion in your chest. I need you to take your shirt off okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie mumbled, pulling off the sweatshirt and the tee underneath, between coughs. “What is that?”

Wayne adjusted Eddie’s pillows so that he could lay back but still be Propped up. “It’s a mustard plaster. This is what my Ma used to do for me back in the day.”

He gently applied the fabric strips to his nephew’s chest, Eddie tensing slightly at the coldness of the plaster.

The effect of the mustard spice was almost instantaneous. Eddie’s nose twitched and he rubbed a knuckle under it. “Can you pahhh- pass me a thehh tissue?”

“Hep’tchEW! NGT’chUH! snnFF T’SSCHEW!”

Wayne passed Eddie the box of tissues from his bedside table, chuckling, “It can have that effect sometimes. We’ll leave this on for about 10-15 minutes and then we’ll take it off.”

Eddie nodded, already winding up for his next fit. “NG’chiew! H’tchiEW! T’SSchEW!”

Wayne let himself out and ran inventory on their kitchen cabinets, making a mental list of some things he’d need to pick up after this. The only thing breaking the silence was Eddie sneezing every minute or two like clockwork.

When the time was up, Wayne went back into his nephew’s room to remove the plaster. It had definitely done its job, Eddie had a handful of tissues pressed firmly against his streaming nose.

“Why don’t you take a shower to rinse all that off, Ed.” Wayne suggested.

Eddie stood up, just wearing his pajama bottoms. He grabbed his shirt off the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

The young man turned on the hot water and let it spray on his face and body, a mix of the mustard plaster and hot water loosening the congestion in his chest as well.

While Eddie was showering, Wayne took it upon himself to make breakfast. Nothing fancy - just eggs and toast. He was setting the plates down on the table when Eddie emerged from the bathroom, back in his pajamas and toweling off his hair.

“Perfect timing.” Wayne gestured to the plates as Eddie joined him at the table.

After a couple of minutes of quiet eating, Wayne broke the silence, “You gonna be okay for an hour or two while I go to the store?”

Eddie nodded, pushing the eggs around his plate with a fork. “I’ll be okay. Think m’gonna go back to bed.”

“Rest’ll be good for ya.” He stood up, taking his plate and hovering over Eddie’s. “Not hungry?”

Eddie looked up and frowned, “Not really… sorry.”

“You don’t gotta apologize for being sick Eddie.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and cleared his plate.

Eddie got up and lay on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes. He was vaguely aware of a thin blanket being draped over him. In the background, he could hear Wayne tying up his boots and heading out the door. He slipped in and out of sleep for about 30 minutes before there was a knock at the door.

At first he thought he was dreaming, but the knock sounded again. Eddie groaned slightly and stood up, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he padded to the door. He opened it cautiously only to be met with Robin smiling awkwardly, Nancy behind her.

“Hi Eddie.” Robin smiled cautiously as he opened the door all the way.

“Hi Robin. Nancy.”

“Hey Eddie. Robin said you’re sick. How are you feeling?” Nancy asked.

“I’m uh… I’ve been better I guess.” He turned to the side to cough into the blanket and then turned back to the girls. He looked Robin up and down. “Why are you wearing that?”

He smiled slightly at the image. Robin was in jeans and a nice blouse, looking more than uncomfortable in it. Nancy also was dressed up a little more than normal.

“Nancy took me on a date to this fancy-”

“Coffee shop.” Eddie and Robin said at the same time. “I remember now.”

“Do you? You seemed pretty out of it yesterday.”

“Yeah uh, bits and pieces but I remember.” There was a pause before Eddie realized, “Sorry! I would invite you in but um, I don’t wanna get you sick…”

“No it’s okay!” Nancy chimed in, holding up a paper cup with a lid. “We actually just wanted to bring you some tea! We’re on our way home anyways.”

Nancy passed the cup to Robin who held it out for Eddie. He smiled and took it, holding it with both hands. “Thanks! Can’t wait to try it.”

“Well we’ll let you rest, we just wanted to drop the tea off.” The girls turned on their heels and headed back towards the car, “Feel better Eddie!”

He smiled and waved, closing the door. Blanket cape trailing behind him, he sipped the tea and resumed his place on the couch, face down hugging a pillow. He was still like that when Wayne arrived back home, several grocery bags in tow.

Eddie was sound asleep on the couch so Wayne moved closer and placed the back of his fingers to his forehead. He frowned slightly at the heat still radiating off his nephew. He unpacked what he bought at the store and started quietly making a concoction in the kitchen.

After brewing some echinacea tea, he added a plethora of other ingredients. Eventually, Eddie stirred from his sleep and sat up, blinking himself awake.

“H’tchiEW! TsssiEWW!”

“Bless you! How you feeling kid? You still feel warm.” Wayne had grabbed the thermometer from the bathroom and brought it to the sofa, holding it out for Eddie.

He snuffled, placing it in his mouth and resting his head against the cushions, coughing with his mouth closed. While they waited, Wayne brought over the glass of his concoction and set it on the coffee table.

He took the thermometer from Eddie, who was rubbing at his eyes, staring at the cup. “What’s that?”

“That is Wayne Munson’s cure-all tea. Turmeric, ginger, apple cider vinegar, garlic, lemon, honey, and echinacea. Also got enough cayenne pepper to open up your sinuses. It’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

Eddie scrunched his nose and coughed productively. “It sounds gross.”

“So do you,” Wayne quipped back, “And you still got that fever, so drink up.”

He handed Eddie the glass. The young man bringing it up to his lips, but turning away with his eyes closed right before. He went back in and took an actual sip this time, grimacing and sticking his tongue out.

Eddie coughed again, “Oh m’by god, this is awful.”

“Can’t be worse than bein’ sick, that’s for sure. I’m gonna make you this twice a day till you’re feeling better n’ I expect you to drink it, hmm?”

Eddie was too tired and felt too sick to protest, “Yes U’cle Wayne.” He took another sip, the older man laughing at the face he pulled as he swallowed.

“Let’s get you back in bed okay?” He helped Eddie stand up and walked him back to his bedroom where he all but collapsed onto the bed. Wayne set the cure-all tea on his nightstand, “Finish this and you can have a popsicle alright?”

“Mmhmm” Eddie mumbled into the mattress.

“Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything. Love you, kid.”

The reply was mumbled through mattress and sheets but Wayne could hear it clear enough, “Love you too Uncle Wayne.”

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when another man catches your eye

This work, 当你沉迷小哥哥, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it!

[ VICTOR ]

LFG is full of talented individuals and a sizeable number of handsome men. But you, as an obedient wife with an unwavering love for Victor, will definitely not spare a glance at other men...?

“Goldman. In one minute, I want you to give me all the information you have on that man!”

When you arrived at LFG to give Victor a report, you were notified that he was currently in a meeting. As such, you’re currently standing outside the office, having a chat with Goldman. When the door finally opened, you never expected to see an incredibly handsome man!

Goldman looks at you from the side, objecting. “Just forget it. If I give you his information, I might lose my bonus for next year.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, infuriated. “You’ve really disappointed me! Have you forgotten how I usually rescue you? Passionate members of the working-class should band together and defeat this capitalist fat lion!”

“Defeat who?”

Immersed in your dramatic world, you fail to realise that the voice sounds slightly off. “Victor, of course!”

Goldman’s face has gone pale.

“...”

Finally reacting, you hold onto his arm, behaving coquettishly. “Victor, when did you come out?” You hope he didn’t hear your brave and visionary words from earlier.

Victor has his arms crossed as he stands at the doorway. Expressionless, he shatters your hopes. “Ever since you wanted the information.”

“...”

You wonder if it’s too late to retreat.

“Submit a thousand word reflection tonight.” He leads your dazed self into the office.

Seeing the two of you enter, Goldman feels as though he’s been relieved from a burden.

“Goldman, your monthly bonus has been cut by half from idling around during working hours.”

Goldman: Ack.

[ GAVIN ]

To select guests for an upcoming program, you and the planning team in the company have been collecting information on up-and-rising celebrities, which have been printed onto booklets for your perusal.

While having a video call with Kiki, you flip through the pages, the topic gradually digressing to a discussion on who the most handsome person in the booklet is. 

“I think he’s more handsome. I watched a drama he was featured in. The moment he removed his clothes, those muscles...”

The moment Gavin returns, he sees his girl sitting cross-legged on the floor, engaged in a discussion over the phone. Documents are messily sprawled on the coffee table. Upon a closer look, he realises that they are pages of information, each one with a picture of a man attached.

Hearing the door open, you turn your head. “Gavin, you’re back~”

He walks over, hugging you from behind. His chin rests on the top of your head, giving it a gentle nuzzle. “Mm. What are up to?”

You point at the materials on the table. “Selecting guests.”

At this inopportune time, a voice drifts from the phone. “Officer Gavin, I wish to report that Boss has been looking at the abdominal muscles of other men!” 

“Kiki, you betrayed me!” You exclaim accusatorially, gritting your teeth. She knows fully well how prone to jealousy your Officer Gavin is.

As expected, Gavin knits his brows. Lifting the bottom of his shirt, he takes your hand and plants it onto his torso. His tone sounds as though he has been treated unfairly. “I have abs too. Touch mine, and don’t look at others.”

Kiki: Sorry for interrupting. Remember to hang up before doing other deeds :)

[ LUCIEN ]

This new drama is far too addictive. The men in it all suit your tastes. As such, you would sit before the television every Friday evening, unmoving.

He initially thought it was just a temporal spark of interest. That is, until you changed the background of your phone to those men. After sending him a link to a voting campaign, Professor Lucien finally realised the severity of this issue.

On Friday, you sit on the sofa as usual, turning the television on.

Seeing this, Lucien quietly washes the cherries from the fridge and places them in front of you. Occasionally, he would shift the chess pieces on the coffee table, or walk in front of the television cabinet to rifle through the CDs. He even waters the plants on top of the stereo.

Your eyes are sparkling as you watch the television, not noticing Lucien’s actions. It’s only when the number of times he blocks the screen increases that he catches your attention. “Lucien, what are you doing?”

He sets down the watering can in his hand, lowering his eyes. “My Little Butterfly is only focused on watching the television, so I have no choice but to engage in my own pastimes.” After saying this, he even injects a sigh.

You snort with laughter. “Is Professor Lucien jealous, and blaming me for not giving him attention?”

“Yes.” His response is quick and firm, as though you’ve truly caused him to suffer.

Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, you outstretch your arms. “In that case, would this man like an exclusive hug?”

[ KIRO ]

People on-site can sense that Kiro is a little different from his usual self. Usually, Kiro would be amiable, grinning widely as he interacts with others. Although he still treats people the same way, his behaviour towards the second male lead has been peculiar.

“Kiro, is something up with you today? Did someone make you angry?” Mummy Savin is the first person to notice that Kiro is slightly off, patting his shoulder in concern.

“Savin, you have no idea how MC went overboard last night! She said the second male lead was very handsome, and questioned why the ending was so tragic. And that if she were the female lead, she definitely wouldn’t go for the main male lead, but would prefer the second lead!” Little Kiro makes a complaint about your actions to Savin. 

“...” Not knowing what to say, Savin casts him a glance before whipping out his phone to give you a call. “Come over to the film site.Your Kiro is throwing a tantrum again.”

You hang up with a frown. Even though Savin didn’t mention the reason for it, you can guess what exactly is going on. Bringing along the pork floss rolls you just bought, and after ordering two cups of 50% sugar milk tea, you rush over to the film site.

“Kiro~” You greet him once you enter the venue. With a ‘hmph’, he twists his head to the side. Clearly, he doesn’t want to bother with you right now.

You smile in resignation, pretending to be filled with regret. “Since Kiro is ignoring me, I have no choice but to give these small cakes and milk tea to Savin. Sigh, what a shame.”

Hearing that there are snacks, Kiro immediately lunges over. “No way, no way. Miss Chips bought them for me, so they can’t be given to Savin!”

Stuffing himself with the cake, you give his puffy cheeks a poke. “You aren’t angry anymore?”

Kiro takes a sip of the milk tea, his response muffled. “On account of the these snacks, I’ll make up with you for two hours. We’ll talk about the rest at home!”

[ SHAW ]

“What are you watching?” Shaw rushes into the kitchen once he reaches home. Taking out your matcha ice-cream from the fridge, he digs a big scoop, eating it in front of you.

You’ve already gotten used to how thick-skinned this person can be. Casting a glance at the mustard bottle in the bin, you kick the bin further away quietly, praying that he’d quickly reach the bottom of the tub.

“All of them resemble weak chickens. None of them know how to fight.” Shaw comments, biting the spoon.

???

Based on such logic, isn’t he saying that someone who resembles King Kong would immediately be good in fighting?

“Stinky Brother. Take a good look - the men are so handsome. And then look at yourself. Can you even compare with them?”

Shaw’s face darkens. He sets the ice-cream down, pressing the pause button of the remote control. He walks in front of the television, pointing at the large face on the screen, before pointing to himself. “Hey! Take a proper look. How is this pretty boy more handsome than I am? Need me to get you a pair of glasses to fix your vision?!”

You click your tongue. “They can dance. Can you?”

“I can.”

“They have abs!”

“I do too.”

“They can even act!”

“If I didn’t know how to act, how would I have won you over?”

“...” He’s truly unbeatable at this.

Shaw cages you between himself and the sofa, his palms sinking into the fabric. “Do you pick him or me?”

Instead of saying anything, you give him a kiss. After all, this is the best answer.

In the end, he didn’t eat the mustard.

–

More translated and original works: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the author

[bellshells]

Nobody Can Know Part Four

It’s here! The finale of Nobody Can Know! This was actually really emotional for me, 52, 540 words later and this fic has come to an end. I have had the absolute best time writing this and I must send a massive shout out to @hinagiku0 for requesting this in the first place. I do have a bonus chapter in the works set in between parts two and three, but no time frame as to when that will be finished. Thank you to everyone who has come on this journey with me, and thank you to everybody who has liked, reblogged and taken the time to send me your kind words. You’ve made this aspiring writer very happy indeed. Thank you. 

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin Reader Warnings: Language, Angst, Blood, Smoking, Alcohol, Smut Summary: Christmas has come faster than anyone could have anticipated, but with everything so up in the air; it’s impossible to celebrate. The promise of a break away may give everyone the clarity they need.  Word Count: 17.4k+

“No, you can’t. That’s- no. I won’t let you.”

  George looked at you with a look of utter desperation, it made you ache. You bit the inside of your cheek to distract from the pain in your heart, it didn’t work. He shook his head and wiped at his face as a tear rolled down his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, George. I just need to think.” You whispered, you longed to reach for him, to comfort him; but your mind was made up. “I need some time away.”

  “Why? Love listen, please just talk to me. Tell me what to do.” George begged, he grasped your hand across the table and squeezed tightly. “I’ll do anything.”

You smiled sadly; you knew he would; he would do anything in that moment to keep you there. But was that enough?

  “I know George, I just feel…honestly I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. I just need to get away from everything so I can sort myself out.”   “From me?”   “From you, from the shop, everything!” You answered tersely, you didn’t mean to be blunt with him, you were uncomfortable seeing George distressed. But he needed to understand that you wouldn’t be swayed.   “Do you still love me?” He asked, his face twisted in agony as you pulled your hand away and placed it in your lap.   “That’s never in question.” You stood and walked around the table to where George sat, he looked at you expectantly as you bent down. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll send you an owl when I’m settled, so you know how to reach me if anything happens.”   “Where will you go?”   “A friends.”

************

  Cokeworth was probably the most depressing place you had ever set foot in. The industrial town was still dirty from the smoke that the chimney of the old mill had puffed out. While in recent years it had ceased in its emission, the last century’s worth of grime had remained strong. It was a bleak, often sad reminder of the proletariat forefathers of the current upper working-class families who had purchased the many two-bed terraced houses for good rail links to Birmingham and Wolverhampton. You could never have imagined that Professor Snape lived somewhere like that, but really, you couldn’t imagine Professor Snape living anywhere other than Hogwarts. You had seen his office on many occasions, it was to be expected really; full of dusty books and rolled up pieces of parchment. It always smelled distinctly of cedarwood and myrrh, a scent you had almost absolutely convinced yourself that it was Professor Snape himself who smelled of such. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t dwell much on the last few days, instead you would take this time for yourself. You wanted to be kind to yourself for once, to just be you. You weren’t looking forward to the quiet though, your life had never been quiet.

  You walked for what felt like miles, all the streets looked the same, each house identical. It was disorientating, the numbers screwed on to each door seemed to ascend and descend in whichever way they liked. You were about to give up and go back the way you came until a little white sign on the side of a house on the corner of the street caught your eye; it had an arrow pointing in the opposite direction with SPINNERS END  written across it. You breathed a sigh of relief and started off in the direction dictated by the sign. 69, 67, 65- it was 65 wasn’t it? You pulled the crumpled bit of paper Professor Snape left you from your pocket and looked from the words there, to the grey wooden door in front of you.

If you are in need, you need only knock

  You knocked once on the door, you heard a click of a lock from the inside and it swung open slowly. There it was again, that smell. It was almost overpowering as you took a hesitant step into the house. From what you could see, it was immaculately clean. You dropped your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and removed your heavy cloak from around your shoulders, hanging it over the bannister. The walls of the hallway were a dark green, but this didn’t surprise you. You would have been incredibly shocked it you had entered Professor Snape’s house and the walls had been painted magenta and mustard. You smirked at the idea and followed the hallway round to a room on the right, it looked like it should be a lounge. The walls were lined with books, every surface was littered with them too. There was a well-worn leather armchair in one corner with a drink’s cabinet close by. A table sat in the middle of the room and on the opposite side, a two-seat sofa. The leather of the sofa looked intact, like not a soul had ever sat on it. Whilst you knew that was near impossible, your heart ached for the lonely man who owned this house. Nobody should lead as solitary a life as this.

  You looked for a moment, long the lines and lines of books. Some looked to be incredibly old indeed, some without a dent in the hard spines. There were books in languages you didn’t know and some you recognised as classics in the muggle world. You ran your finger across the spines and sighed, you could imagine clearly that Professor Snape had read each and every one of them. You could see him in his chair, one leg crossed over the other- book in one hand and cigarette in the other. You smiled at the image you had created, you hoped he was happy here. You made your way out of the sitting room and back into the dark hallway, the stairs had a cupboard underneath them, the door painted the same green as the walls. You noticed a glimpse of the kitchen through a door which sat ajar, you pushed it open and stepped through. There were more books, many sat on the small dining table that sat in the corner. It was old, it reminded you pews at Hogwarts in its shape. The kitchen itself was cramped, although it had all the amenities one might expect, the claustrophobic closeness of the cupboards did nothing but remind you of the tiny kitchen in your flat. You walked over to the cupboards and opened them one by one, mugs and glasses, plates and bowls (four of each) and then one full of non-perishables. You laughed slightly at the tins of baked beans and scotch broth, a tin of rice pudding sat further forward on the shelf, as if picked out and then placed back.  

  You opened up a low cupboard next to the fridge and exhaled in relief at the sight of instant coffee, you pulled it out and unscrewed the lid. Giving the coffee a big sniff, you decided it was good enough to drink and sought to put the kettle on. After you had found the sugar and cutlery, you poured the contents of a tin of tomato soup into a pan and lit the cooker. Satisfied with your level of domesticity achieved, you placed your coffee and soup onto a tray and levitated it behind you into the sitting room. You scoured the books for something to read, and finally settled on a dusty black jacketed book called Dracula. The image of the author; a gentleman named Bram Stoker was still and aged, you could but assume this was a muggle book and you secretly relished in the simplicity of it. You settled into Professor Snape’s well-loved armchair and ate your soup quickly, quietly cursing when you burnt your tongue. You devoured the novel, your coffee forgotten until you squealed at the un-dead return of Lucy Westenra. You heart raced and you laughed, having fully immersed yourself in this novel. It was exhilarating. Your coffee was now cold as you brought it to your lips, and you yawned. It was dark outside now, but, in the deep December that could mean it was about five o’clock. Looking over your shoulders as if someone could catch you at any moment, you reached for the handle of the drink’s cabinet and marvelled at the assortment of alcohol stored within. You reached greedily for a bottle of port and padded into the kitchen for a glass, it was then you noticed a scrap of parchment next to the sink.

  (Y/N), it read in Professor Snape’s neat script,

Welcome, if you have decided to stay. I have left some muggle money on my desk in the second bedroom upstairs, along with an almanac of the values of it. There is some food in the cupboards, please feel free to help yourself to it. I am not expecting anybody to arrive, so please do not let anybody inside the house. I would be very much appreciative of that. You may write to me if you wish, I would like to know if you are there. Have a Merry Christmas.

Best,

Severus

  You raced up the narrow stairs of Professor Snape’s house, port and glass forgotten. The landing was small and had three doors that lead from there. One you assumed was the bathroom, you hoped it was as clean as the rest of the house. You continued to the next door along and opened it, Professor Snape’s personal study before you. You walked into the body of the room, absolutely in awe. He had enchanted the ceiling to reflect the night sky, the moon high above and stars twinkled through the heavy clouds. You stood for a moment and appreciated the craftmanship of this, it was silent in this room and the serenity of the night sky filled you with a sense of calm you hadn’t felt for the longest while. By the only window in the room sat his desk, it was surprisingly non-cluttered with minimal books. True to his note, there was an envelope marked Money. It was a curious thing, you peeked inside and found coins but also paper money too. What would muggles do if the paper money floated away? From the cursory glance you gave Professor Snape’s deconstruction of the value of each piece it seemed the paper money, or ‘notes’ as he called them were of greater value than the coins. But the coins together equalled the sum of notes. It was all very confusing, so you popped the envelope back on the desk and opened up the small drawer on top, thankful to find some parchment.

  The feel of Professor Snape’s quill in your hand was foreign and took some getting used to. You wrote two letters in total, one to Professor Snape to let him know you had arrived and to thank him again for his hospitality. He really had gone over and above what you had dared hope, and you sunk further into his debt. The other letter, was to George. Could it really only be a few hours since you had last seen him? You ignored the glassy state of your eyes as you sealed the letter and opened the window. A small silver whistle hung on a chain attached the inside of the sill, it had an owl in flight intricately engraved on the side. It was really quite beautiful, it glistened in the moonlight of the room and felt heavy in your hand. You brought the cold metal to your lips and blew once, but no sound came from the whistle. You looked desperately into the blackness of the street, the only light was the flickering streetlamp; only one was working and that one looked ready to be condemned. You noticed a speck in the distance, it grew bigger as it flew toward you. Your heart leapt at the sight of the black owl that fluttered its wings as it settled on the windowsill.   “This one first.” You instructed the owl as you offered the letter addressed to Professor Snape to it, it presented its leg and you fumbled in the drawers of Professor Snape’s desk for some string. “Fucking fuck fuck, where’s the fucking string?” You cursed, the owl gave an indignant hoot, and you made a face to it. Upon finding the string, you attached both letters to the owl’s legs and watched as it flew into the night.

  You trapsed back down the stairs and collected you dirty dishes and washed them in the sink. You yawned, fuck, you didn’t realise how tired you were until you caught your eyes closing of their own accord as you stood aimlessly in the kitchen. You collected your bag and made your way back up the stairs to the bathroom. You hadn’t expected a bachelor to take such good care of his home; the bathroom smelled strongly of bleach and the toilet was so clean you could’ve eaten your dinner off of it. No shower, you thought. Not a bit of wonder really, especially when you considered how old these houses were. You were thankful though, that Professor Snape must have charmed the brick somehow to keep the heat in, you wouldn’t even know where to start switching a radiator on. You decided against having a bath, it was far too late, and you didn’t fancy accidentally drowning to death as you inevitably fell asleep. You changed and popped your dirty clothes into the empty washing basket in the bathroom, making a mental note to write to Professor Snape and ask for instructions on how to use the washing machine. You felt a pang of loneliness as you walked across the empty landing, you and George never went to bed alone and you had missed his usual night-time burst of energy as you would get under the covers. It usually resulted in you making love for a few hours until you both passed out from exhaustion. No- you wouldn’t think about that.

  You pondered what to do. There was one bed. You hadn’t spared a second thought to the idea that Professor Snape had turned his second bedroom into a study, you cursed yourself as you stood in your knickers and stared at his wide bed. The bedding was black, of course and looked inviting in your sleepy state. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t appropriate for you to sleep in his bed, certainly not. You imagined how enraged he would be if he found out you had slept in his bed. But, he had let you stay here. Surely, he knew you would need to sleep? Maybe he thought you would have a sleeping bag, or even a blanket and you could sleep on the sofa that looked like it had never been sat on. You shook your head and chuckled, what a nightmare. Resigned, you pulled back the covers of Severus Snape’s bed and climbed in. You decided you would find your way to the town centre tomorrow and buy a pillow and a blanket and sleep on the sofa. But tonight, well one night wouldn’t hurt. You had imagined Professor Snape would sleep in a coffin, or perhaps a bed of nails in your youth. You hadn’t considered a large spongy bed, with brushed cotton sheets and pillows so soft your head could sink through them. The sheets smelled of freshly washed linen and you wondered if he had cleaned his house for you coming, you were grateful if he had and impressed if he hadn’t. Your eyes were heavy and closed almost instantly, you pulled the covers tight to your chest and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

********

  You were awoken by the sound of scratching. You opened your eyes and were confused for a moment why there wasn’t a sleeping redhead next to you. It had been three days since you had arrived in Spinner’s End and you felt almost at home now. You had a routine, you would wake up and have a bath, have some breakfast and read. You had managed to find the muggle supermarket and filled the cupboards full to burst. You often found yourself falling asleep in Professor Snape’s armchair. The evening would breach the windows of the living room, and you would drift away. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t particularly exciting either. You felt the same pang of loneliness you’d felt the night before as you sat slowly and sighed. The black owl tapped its beak impatiently on the bedroom window, you rose unsteadily and pulled a t-shirt out of your open bag. The owl didn’t wait for you to let it in as you opened the window, it swooped into the room and landed on the bed, kicking it’s legs, like you hadn’t already noticed the letters tied to it.   “I haven’t got any treats for you, sorry.” You said as you attempted to untie the letters, at least, if the owl stayed still for a second. You finally prised the letters away and the owl flew out the way it had come. The morning air was freezing, more snow had fallen in the night and the whole street was bathed in an eerily white blanket. There were a few children already out in the street, their parents scraping ice from the windows of their cars. People still need to work, you supposed, regardless of how close it was to Christmas. You closed the window and climbed back into bed, it was still warm under the covers and you settled in to read your letters.

(Y/N), the first one read.

Glad to hear you have settled in. Yes, you may help yourself to some of the drinks in the cabinet, but if you touch my Lagavulin with your grubby little hands, I shall know.

You snorted as you read that. You inched deeper into the bed, craving more warmth.

I’ll be in London for New Year, believe me, it’s as much an inconvenience to you as it is to me. So, whilst you are more than welcome to stay in my house, be prepared for my arrival on 31st December. If you wish to stay until then, I will require you to buy food. Please let me know what you decide to do well ahead of time.

Best,

Severus

That was the third time he had signed off by using Severus and not Professor Snape or Professor S. Snape, Head of Slytherin House Hogwarts, Potions Master, Surprisingly Nice Person as you had almost expected him to. So, he was coming back for New Year? Blanket and pillows were definitely on your agenda for the day. You picked up the other letter. You knew it was from George and you felt a sinking feeling in your gut as you fingered the envelope. You weren’t really expecting a reply, you told him you had arrived safe and you’d write him again soon. You weren’t sure what in the letter you sent actually required a response.

My darling, George wrote.

I’m chuffed to hear you’ve settled in wherever you are. I’d like to think you’re being looked after, but I know you don’t need anyone to look after you. I really miss you, gorgeous. I know there’s not much I can say that I didn’t already say yesterday, but I would have felt like an absolute git if I didn’t tell you again. I’m not going to ask you to come home if you’re not ready, but I wanted to let you know that me and Fred are heading to mum’s for Christmas. Couldn’t quite face it in the flat without you. So, if you decide you want to come home for Christmas, you know where we are. I love you, (Y/N). I’ll do anything to show you that.

All my love forever, George xxx

P.S. I noticed you didn’t take any of your tampons with you, just say the word and I’ll send them to you. Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, love x

  You shot out of bed like a rocket. Your tampons? Oh fuck. You raced across the landing to the loo and as you sat down, you saw the same sight that had been staring you in the face for weeks.

Nothing. Nothing in your knickers.

You were late. More than late, it had been far more than a week ago since you were due on and yet, with all the stress of the last few days you had forgotten all about it. You sank onto the bathroom floor and cried. Big, mournful tears and sobs that wracked your whole chest. This couldn’t be, this wasn’t to be your life. With a sniff of resolution, you stood from the floor and looked at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t realised how haggard you looked. There were dark circled under your eyes and your face was pale and gaunt. You ran a finger across your cheek and felt the hardness of your cheekbone that jutted out further than it ever had before. Merlin, you were far too young for any of this. In the year that you had spent being George’s girlfriend you had had more strife than you could have possibly imagined. Quite frankly, you thought, you had taken it like a champ. But this just seemed one ordeal too far. You were alone, alone and hiding in Severus fucking Snape’s house from your boyfriend. No family, no friends, nothing.  No, no more.

******

  You hadn’t been to this part of London before. You were quite shocked when she suggested meeting you here, you hadn’t anticipated she was one for the theatre. As you stared up at Her Majesty’s Theatre, the bright still photographs of the show stared back at you. A woman, with long curly hair in a pink dress seemed frightened as a masked man with dark hair loomed behind her. What utter drivel you thought, who would pay money to see this? You rubbed your hands together, now significantly warmer with your new gloves you had bought on your way into London; and scoured the busy street for her. You were starting to think she wasn’t coming when you saw an emerald green cape swish in your periphery.   “There you are! Merlin, I was beginning it think you were taking the piss out of me.” You said as you wrapped her into a warm hug.   “Never,” Pansy smirked, she pulled away from you and gazed intently at your face. “You look terrible mate.”   “Thank you dear, you are nothing if not horrendously honest.” You looked at Pansy with a sly smirk. It felt so wonderful to see her again, her arm entwined easily with yours as you started back toward Leicester Square. “Why did you want to meet in front of that theatre?” You asked.   “Oh, I saw the show last week with my parents and it’s an easy location, tucked out the way a bit yet still in central London.” Pansy seemed to have blossomed in the time since you had last seen her. her hair had grown long and glossy, and she was pretty, very pretty.   “You? You saw a musical?” You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. Pansy rolled her eyes and pushed you playfully.   “Don’t judge unless you’ve seen one yourself. The music is to die for.” She smirked and lead you up a busy street. “Do you want to look at the Christmas Markets?” Pansy asked as she picked up a bauble from a nearby stall and inspected it. You wondered if it was a mistake to meet in such a crowded place so close to Christmas but, as she had reminded you, less chance of bumping into somebody you know.   “Actually Pans, I need to talk to you.” You replied, she nodded and lead you across the square to a café, all of the tables were either taken or dirty. You both looked over your shoulders as you pointed your wand at a table in the corner and the dirty mugs and plates stacked and ended up on the next table over. “What do you want? I have muggle money.” You said as you reached into your purse and pulled out one of the paper notes; you remembered they were worth more than the coins. Pansy looked from the paper note in your hand and to your face and burst out laughing. “What?!” You demanded. Onlookers from other tables began to stare in your direction as Pansy doubled over laughing.   “Oh, fucking hell, (Y/N). You are so clueless.” She managed through her giggles. “You’re going to pay for two coffees with a fifty-pound note?”   “Is that wrong?” You asked bewildered, surely it was right to take the biggest one?   “Merlin, just put that back in your purse before someone steals it out of your hand and I’ll get the coffees.” Pansy replied, you could see her shoulders still bobbing up and down with laughter even as she queued for your drinks. You couldn’t help but smile too, it had been so long since you had seen her last, too long.

  Pansy ended up taking longer than you anticipated ordering drinks. Your stomach began to rumble, and you felt sick. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, you needed to speak to Pansy about the situation. You had nobody else to turn to. You stared aimlessly out of the window at the last- minute Christmas shoppers frantically move from shop to shop. You wondered if George would have taken the things you had bought for his family back to the shops, or if he would have wrapped them terribly and dished them out. You cringed at the idea of Molly seeing George’s wrapping and thinking it was yours. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of gold and a suitcase whizz pass the window. Your heart raced as you made eye contact with him, Mundungus Fletcher. Behind him he pulled a trolley you saw old ladies carry their shopping in full of tat. He raised a ringed hand up and waved at you through the glass, a sneer fixed on his stupid face. You reached for your wand, but he was too fast, he weaved through the crowd and was gone. You searched for him wildly with your eyes, you craned your neck to try and see further, but it was no use. He had disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You tried to quell the hatred that bubbled under your skin and took a deep breath.   “Who was that?” Pansy asked as she set a tray on the table. She passed you your coffee and a slice of cake and put the tray on the floor.   “Nobody.” You muttered. You thanked her and took a sip, you grimaced as you swallowed it. Muggle coffee was terrible, watery and bland. It made you long for home, the kitchen staff at your parent’s house were always at the top of their game. It had spoiled you really, you had made such an effort to learn how to do everything yourself. You wouldn’t be one of them. You refused.   “What did you want to talk about?” Pansy said as she shovelled a forkful of cake into her mouth. You bit your lip; you didn’t know how to say it. “Oi, you haven’t dragged me all the way to London just for a coffee so talk.”   “I’m late.”   “What do you mean?”   “My period’s late.”

  Pansy’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth; her eyes wide with shock. You tapped on the table nervously and glanced over your shoulder. You would be mortified if you found yourself in another situation like the one of the last few days.   “How long?”   “Nearly two weeks now that I think about it.”   “Shit.”   “What do I do, Pansy?” Your eyes brimmed with tears as you watched your friends face flit between emotions. Pansy’s usually stern face softened, she ran a hand over her beautifully quaffed hair and sighed.   “Have you been to St. Mungo’s?” She asked, you shook your head.   “I didn’t know I had to. I only realised this morning and that’s when I wrote you straight away.”    “Right, okay. So, first thing you need to do is go to St. Mungo’s, you’ll see a mediwitch and they’ll make you drink a potion to see if you’re…pregnant or not.” She whispered, you nodded tearfully.   “Is that it? I just need to go to St. Mungo’s?”   “Well, you need to make an appointment first. Only-” She stopped short, she frowned, and her brow furrowed.   “Only?” You prompted.   “Only, it’s the day before Christmas Eve (Y/N). They’ll be no appointments until after the New Year, I’m sure.”   “Is it the 23rd already?” You asked, “Fuck me, I didn’t realise.” You paused. “So I have to wait?” Pansy nodded and swallowed another mouthful of cake. She pondered for a second before she sat up straight in her chair.   “Unless…”   “Unless?” You asked, you were growing impatient.   “There is the old-fashioned way of finding out. The muggle way, it’s just as effective. My sister had to do it before she was of age and she had it off with one of the Black cousins.”   “Which is?”

******

  You shifted your weight uneasily from foot to foot. You were in Piccadilly Circus waiting outside of a, you think Pansy called it a chemist? She didn’t trust you to not have a breakdown in the middle of a muggle pharmacy so left you to wait outside. It was bitterly cold and the snow had begun to fall harder than before. You watched as muggle pedestrians tried to weather their way through the flurry. How had it gotten to be the 23rd of December without you noticing? How had you let yourself not notice that your period was late? Very, very late, you cursed. You couldn’t help but be slightly angry at Fred and George, you had worked your fingers to the bone over the last few weeks to make sure the sop was stocked to the brim ready for Christmas. You had been exhausted, and still found time to cook and clean for the boys too. No, stop that, you thought. You were just irritable and nervous. You weren’t angry at the boys; you loved the boys; and were so proud of everything they had achieved in such a small space of time. Its natural to have bumps in the road, you just hoped there wouldn’t be a bump of another kind making an appearance.

  You shook your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts. It was no use to anyone to berate yourself, you placed a hesitant hand on your stomach. You prayed silently to Merlin, to anybody that could possibly hear you. You whispered the words over and over again in your mind, please don’t let me be pregnant please don’t let me be pregnant please don’t let me be-   “Got it!” Pansy thrust a plastic bag in your direction, followed by a handful of coins. You cocked your head to the side in confusion. “Your change,” she announced and placed the money in your hand. “Merlin, you know absolutely nothing do you.” You offered her a tight-lipped smile as she linked her arm with yours and you hurried away from the pulsing crowd.   “Right, let’s go to your flat and get this over with.” Pansy stated, she pointed to the designated apparation point and looked at you expectantly. The thought of going into an empty flat filled you with a dread that quickly turned to sickness, a bile that rose in your throat. You shook your head and slumped against the wall behind you.   “I can’t Pans, I can’t go back there now. Not today, I’m not ready.” You muttered, your hair fell into your face and shielded it from Pansy’s view. You felt Pansy put an arm around her shoulders. She pulled you close to her and enveloped you in a hug. The tears you had been holding in since you left Severus’ (could you even call him that now?) house fell from your heavy eyes as you clutched to your friend for dear life. She rubbed your back and swayed you from side to side.   “That’s okay, we don’t have to go there. Let’s just go to where you’re staying.”   “I can’t take you there either!” You laughed through your tears, Pansy laughed too and brushed her thumb across your cheek.   “Fucking hell, you truly are off grid, aren’t you? Don’t do break-ups by half.”   “We haven’t broken up, Pansy. I just needed some time away. I haven’t been on my own since…since-”   “Shh. I know, I know. I was just winding you up.” She pushed you back gently and held you at arm’s length. “Now stop crying please, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You laughed again and smiled weakly at her. You exhaled deeply and nodded. You needed to pull up your big girl pants and be an adult.   “I’ll owl you as soon as I know.” You said, Pansy’s face fell into a look of concern as you took a step back from her.   “Have I not shown you, you can trust me, (Y/N)?” She replied, she looked hurt and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.   “Yes, of course you have, Pansy. I just- I need to do this alone.” Pansy sniffed in indifference and crossed her arms over her chest. You felt instantly guilty, you loathed to upset your friend, especially when she had gone above and beyond for you; but you needed to do this by yourself.   “Fine. But you should let George know, it’s as much his concern as it is yours.” Pansy said stiffly before she turned away from you and disapparated with a small pop!

  You were still for a moment. The snow had turned to sleet and it seemed to soak you through to your very bones as you stood. How had everything turned into such a mess in such a small space of time? Of course, Pansy was right, you needed to tell George. He had a right to know what was going on as anybody else and another feeling of guilt flooded over your already aching chest.

******

  Desdemona was waiting patiently on a streetlamp as you approached Severus’ house. She let out an almighty hoot as you spotted her in the encroaching darkness, she flew quicky from her porch and nearly into your face.   “Bloody stupid bird,” You muttered as you extended an arm. Desdemona landed roughly; her talons pinched your skin under your winter coat as she offered the letter in her beak. Your heart sank as you took it, it could only be from your parents. “I don’t have anything for you. Go home.” You ordered her, if you didn’t know any better you could have sworn she rolled her eyes before she took off into the sky. You watched her fly for as far as you could see her, her tawny features hard to make out after a while. With a groan, you let yourself in to the house.

  You settled in Severus’ armchair and kicked your shoes off. The letter from your parents held tightly in your hand, it felt heavy and you were anxious yet reluctant to find out what it said. You sank lower into the comfortable leather and brought your knees to your chest and teased open the envelope. It wasn’t a howler, that was for certain. A smaller envelope dropped out of the initial one, and a folded piece of parchment landed on your lap. Ignoring the small envelope, you picked up the note and noticed immediately it was written in your father’s hand.

Daughter,

I understand you have moved to Diagon Alley with your partner; congratulations, I’m pleased you have found happiness. I must admit, this is to be a strange Christmas without you here with us. I will leave your stocking above the fireplace like always. I wish for you to understand that you are always welcome here, this is your home. I am your father. You will always be my little girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

Enclosed you will find your Christmas present; your mother gave her blessing for me to send it to you.

Merry Christmas, my darling.

You clutched the letter to your chest as you sobbed. You traced your finger over your father’s words, as if you could touch him through the parchment. You missed him more than words could say, you hadn’t anticipated how much so. In the time that had elapsed since you had last seen him, it was easy to forget the good things, the best things about your father; instead remembering him as the distant man who told you to run instead of protecting you. But he had, from the coldness of your mother, from the sneering remarks of the other noble families as a child and finally from your torment as you sat alone at Christmas.

  You padded solemnly into the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of port and the glass tumbler you had set out the night before. You poured yourself a healthy measure and as you brought the glass to your lips, you stopped. You remembered the white plastic bag you had flung on the floor at the bottom of the stairs when you arrived back, your stomach gurgled, and you bit your lip. What were you to do? Well, you knew exactly what you should do. You should write to George immediately, or better yet, go straight to The Burrow and you could do this together but- there was a part of you that felt that if you were to go to him now, you would be conceding. You would be letting yourself down. You hadn’t run straight into George’s arms the minute Mundungus’ plot was uncovered, if you were to go back now after two nights away from him would make you look weak. You demanded space, you demanded time to think and get away; you deserved it! George had to understand that he had hurt you immeasurably and not everything could be solved by a kiss and a cuddle.

  Regardless, if it turned out you weren’t pregnant then what would have been the need? You would have gone back to him at the first sign of trouble like always, and you weren’t prepared to it this time. If you were pregnant then yes, you would go to him. You would sit down and have an adult conversation over what to do next; but if you weren’t? You could perhaps enjoy this time to yourself before you returned to him. Before you decided what it was exactly you were to say to him. The layers of guilt that had so far weighed heavy on your chest eased slightly, your affirmations to yourself that this was the right thing to do, seemed to have assuaged you some. It was time, you knew it was. It was now or never, and it was most certainly, now.

  You read and re-read the instructions on the side of the box as you sat on the toilet. Your hand trembled as it held the little white stick, you parted your legs and pushed your hand between them; no idea if the stick was in the right position. When you were satisfied that you had done what you needed to, you pulled the stick away and popped the little blue cap on the used end. The box said it would take two minutes to give you a result, so with that, after thoroughly washing your hands, you returned to the living room. You placed the ‘test’ (it was most unlike any test you had ever taken in your life thus far) on the table face down, so you couldn’t see the little window and picked Dracula up from its perch on the nearby shelf. It was then that you noticed the small envelope your father had sent on the arm of the chair. You opened it gently, unsure of what it could be. Onto your lap fell an incredibly delicate silver choker encrusted with brilliant emeralds and littered with small diamonds, given to your mother when your grandmother died. You lifted it to the light and watched how the jewels caught the light. This piece of jewellery had been in your family for generations, You had admired it since you were a little girl, it had sat pride of place around your mother’s neck for special occasions, and you had tried it on- once or twice. Your mother would have been furious if she had found out. Your heart swelled with pride as you traced your fingers lovingly across it, that your mother wanted you to have it. Progress perhaps?

  A thunderous banging on the front door caused you to yelp in fear. You reached into the pocket of your jeans and produced your wand, you waved it frantically across the room and with a puff, all the candles were extinguished. You were plunged into darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you inched slowly out of the living room; wand raised- you weren’t sure what use it would be in the dark, but you refused to cast a Lumos. Severus had said he wasn’t expecting anyone at the house, and to not let anybody inside. You swallowed your fear and allowed yourself a second to think. The only people who would know what this house was, would either be one of two kinds. Muggles, probably drunk, banging on the wrong door or the darker alternative. The one you hoped to Merlin it wasn’t. The banging recommenced as you entered the hallway, you flinched at the sound but continued in your progress toward the front door. The early evening had well given way to night, and the only thing you could make out through the panes of glass in the door, was the shadowy figure that once again brought its hand up to bang against the wood. You crept silently along the hallway, with each step your pulse quickened as with trembling hand, you slowly reached for the catch. You felt a trickle of sweat run down your neck as you clasped the metal knob and turned it ever so slightly, you aimed to open the catch and fling the door open to the surprise of the intruder. You hoped to catch them off guard. As soon as you heard the click of the door, you flung it open.   “Stupefy!” You exclaimed, but he was faster.   “Expelliarmus.” Your wand flew from your hand and landed in his, bloodied and shaking. You blinked, unmoving as he reached for you. His other hand grasped onto your shirt as he tried to stand up straight. You recoiled backwards; it was instinctual. You noticed the hand which held fast onto the front of your shirt was also drenched in blood.   “Don’t scream.” He breathed, “Don’t scream, just…help…me inside.” You managed to nod and grasp him under his arm, as with the other he left bloody handprints along the wall. He kicked the door closed behind him as you helped him into the lounge, and with a big heave, assisted him to the sofa. “Why…is it so…dark?”

  In a second, every candle was lit, and you were able to get a good look at his face.   “What happened to you, Severus?” You asked horrified, he had a large gash on his cheek that bled freely. He clutched his side, and you noticed a flash of skin underneath his hands, he was wounded, badly. Bleeding profusely, what the fuck do you do? “Tell me what to do.”   “Dittany.” Severus whispered, “Cupboard in…bathroom.” You raced from the lounge up the stairs as fast as your feet could carry you, you wrenched open the bathroom cupboard and frantically searched for Essence of Dittany. You noticed that your hands were also covered in blood, his blood as you twisted and turned every bottle until you clasped your hand around the brown bottle.   “Give it to me.” Severus said weakly, he reached for the bottle, but you shook your head.   “No, you can’t-”   “I didn’t ask for…your opinion witch, give…me the…bottle.” He wheezed through gritted teeth, his face was a mass of blood now, like he had somehow tried to quell the bleeding but had somehow made it worse. You hesitated for a moment before you handed the bottle to him. He reached forward with a surprisingly steady hand and applied three drops to his cheek, his face contorted in pain as a small puff of green smoke rose around him. He winced as he tried to sit up, “Help me,” was all he said. Again, you supported his arm and helped right him. “My coat, I can’t reach-” You reached for his buttons and swiftly tried to undo them, he writhed beneath you, obviously in a copious amount of pain.   “Sorry!” You breathed as you reached his midsection, you could see clearly now the wound on his side. It looked as if he had been sliced, the blood was thick and dark as it oozed out of him. Tears stung your eyes as you panicked, you felt so very overwhelmed and with no idea how to help him. You tried to gently manoeuvre his arms through his sleeves, his jaw clenched and with two tugs, you managed it. He pulled his shirt up to his chest and granted you a look at how thin he was. You almost cringed at the sight of every rib in the poor man’s body, his stomach and what you could see of his chest were absolutely littered with scars; some old, some new.   “You will have to help…with this one.” Severus said, he looked better, if that was possible. The wound on his cheek shone purple, as if it had been there all along. The only tell-tale sign was the blood beginning to dry there. You rolled him onto his side and took the bottle from his hands, opening it quickly. You placed a gentle hand above his wound, just to the side of where his ribs jutted out. Severus flinched one and then relaxed as you tenderly brushed your fingers against his skin.   “Ready?” You asked, he gave a curt nod and you applied four drops of the Dittany across his wound. Severus, to his credit, let out a groan of pain whilst his whole body shook under the strain of new skin closing the wound. The puff of smoke was larger this time, you held your breath as it passed over your face. You held him in place until his breathing slowed, he looked at you askance and motioned to be helped up. “Do you want some water?” You asked as you pulled his shirt back down, covering him up. Severus shook his head.   “Whisky.” You rolled your eyes but knew better than to argue with him. You stood and brushed your hands against your jeans, you were sticky with his blood and felt uncomfortable. You hurried over to the drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of the amber liquid. Severus held his hand open and you passed him the bottle, he pulled the cork out with his teeth and brought it to his lips.  

  You watched him as he took sip after sip of the whisky, the colour eventually returned to his cheeks and you felt satisfied to leave him for a moment. You wandered into the kitchen and doused your hands with soap, scrubbing them hard to remove the blood. You fought back tears as the image of Severus writhing in pain engrained itself into your mind. You had never seen so much blood in your life and shuddered as you remembered the smell of the smoke as his skin knit together. You found him asleep on the sofa as you entered, bottle tipped to the side and his face peaceful. Carefully, you slipped his shoes from his feet and propped his legs up onto the sofa. Your wands lay together on the floor, you retrieved yours and Accio’d his duvet and a pillow, laying the latter under his head as you covered him in the blanket.

  You retrieved your cloak and settled into the armchair, you pulled it up to your chin and hooked your legs over one of the arms. It wasn’t comfortable, not in the slightest, but you couldn’t justify leaving him in his state. Your hand closed around your wand and pressed it against your chest, ready, just in case. For what- you didn’t know.

******

  “Sleep well?”

  You awoke with a start. Severus sat across the room from you, he was upright on the sofa. He still looked weak, but his eyes sparkled with humour.   “Like the dead.” You offered feebly; you arched your back; oh, fuck it was agony. You winced and Severus chuckled, your neck was stiff as you craned it to look at him.   “Nice choice of words.” You grimaced as you swung your legs onto the floor and ran your hands through your hair. You were surprised to feel the ends were dried red. Oh, of course. You shuddered as a fleeting image of the previous night’s bloody work crossed your thoughts. Brushing it off, you stood. “Coffee?”   “Please.” He answered, he looked more tired than you had ever seen as he watched you lazily. You returned a few moments later with two mugs of coffee, his black obviously, Severus nodded in thanks. You drank in silence, neither of you looking at the other. After a while, you stood without speaking. You felt disgusting, you were covered almost head to toe in Severus’ blood, although you had scrubbed at your hands- you hadn’t realised how messy it had been.

  You allowed yourself to cry in the bath. The water was hot and as you sank beneath the surface, you felt pathetic. You sobbed, more than you had in days. Your throat hurt and your eyes were swollen. Your heart hurt, why? Were you scared? Scared that someone might come after Severus and you would be caught in the crossfire? Or guilty that the man who had shown you so much kindness had been so dreadfully hurt and you hesitated in answering the door.

  He was sat in the same position that he had been in when you left him. He didn’t look like he had moved a muscle.   “Are you in pain?” You asked quietly, you felt stupid asking him stood in your Christmas pyjamas, but you were quickly running out of clean clothes.   “Immensely,” Severus answered wryly, he pointed at the coffee table. “What’s that?” Your gaze followed the direction of his pointed finger and your stomach fell.   “Nothing. Don’t worry.” You replied quickly, you snatched the pregnancy test and thrust it into the pocket of your pyjama bottoms. How the fuck had you forgotten about that? Your heart raced; you could know. You could know now, all you had to was look at the little window and it would tell you all you needed to know.  “Is that a pregnancy test?” Severus asked, the whisper of a smile tugged at his lips as you blushed.   “No.” You lied, why would he know what a pregnancy test looked like anyway? Especially a muggle one. Severus shook his head.   “If you say so.” He paused and watched you, your hair dripped big, wet droplets onto your shoulders. “Bring me some parchment and a quill, I need to write a letter.”   “Do you not think you should rest?” His face was aghast as you questioned him, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze.   “I promise not to exert myself too much moving my wrist.” You gave him a look of annoyance as he made a gesture as if he were writing. You rolled your eyes again, he chuckled once and then grasped his side in pain. Good, that serves him right for being a dick. You smirked to yourself as you retrieved parchment and a quill along with the silver whistle and thrust them into his hands.   “Would you like something to eat?” You watched him as, even with the sheer amount of pain he was in, his hand was steady as he wrote fluidly across the page. Severus ignored you as he continued to write. You sat in the armchair and watched him for several minutes, you noticed he brought the feathery tip of his quill to his lips every once in a while, in thought. It was almost hypnotic, watching his hand glide across the parchment, the only sound the scratching of his quill.

  The test in your pocket burned with anticipation. You reached for it deftly, careful not to make any sudden movements so as not to disturb Severus. Your fingers grasped it and pulled it out slowly, you shot a glance in his direction, satisfied that his attention was firmly placed upon his writing. You turned it over and…nothing. You panicked and turned it over, upside down and back to front. The little window that displayed the result was empty- no lines.   “Did you not read the instructions?” Severus called from the other side of the room. You gave him an uneasy look. “It quite clearly states that results disappear after twelve hours.” He hadn’t even looked up from his parchment, or so it seemed. You raced from the living room to the bathroom and plunged your hands into the wastebin in search for the box. He was right, of course he was right. Why wouldn’t he be right? You felt the blood drain from your cheeks as you slowly made your way back down the stairs.   “Idiot.” Severus mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear as you paced the length of the room. What were you to do now? It was Christmas Eve; you couldn’t face going back into the crowds. “I need you to take this to The Leaky Cauldron.” Severus’ deep baritone distracted you from your thoughts as he passed the parchment he had been writing on in your direction. You rose from your chair to take it from him, he had closed it in on itself over and over again until it appeared miniscule in your hand. Some kind of enchantment to dissuade the prying eyes of those unintended to read it, you supposed.     “What is it?” You enquired, turning it over in your fingers. Severus motioned you forward and held his arms out to you.   “You don’t need to know. Help me up.” Severus muttered and as you placed your arms around his back, your chests flush together; you blushed at the close proximity. He placed his hands onto your shoulders and supported himself to a standing position. “I need to go to the toilet.” He took two steps and swayed, he grasped hold of your arm to steady yourself.   “I can apparate us upstairs, Severus.” You stated, he grimaced and placed your arm under his.   “No, I’ll be sick. Help me and I might be able to help you with your problem.” He gave you a strained smirk and you nodded. You wondered what he could mean as you slowly supported him up the narrow staircase. You waited awkwardly outside of the door for a moment while he relieved himself, you accio’d his duvet and pillow and returned them to his bedroom, taking care to clear up the clothes you had scattered around the floor. When he emerged from the bathroom, you noticed his face was wet. He had attempted to wash his face rather unsuccessfully and you suppressed a laugh. You helped him into bed and pulled the covers over him, he seemed to relax under your care; letting you wipe a warm flannel across his face to remove the stains of his blood and hummed contentedly.   “You can do the rest yourself,” you announced. He opened his eyes and regarded you, “You can piss off if you think I’m going to give you a bath.” He laughed at this, a real smile appeared on his face and you smiled back, it was nice to see.   “Agreed. I can manage for now.” He sighed, “How late are your courses?”   “My courses?” You looked at him quizzically, Severus grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose.   “Your period, (Y/N). How late?” You blushed again and fiddled with the hem of your shirt, he looked at you expectantly as if he had asked you a question about the ingredients of a potion.   “Two weeks.” You answered, Severus nodded slowly and looked to the ceiling as if in thought.   “Yes, I think I shall be able to help you. Let me sleep for a while, deliver that letter for me and when you come back, we can eat, and we shall get to the bottom of this.” You sighed; you really didn’t want to go back to The Leaky Cauldron.  “Who shall I give it to?”   “Give it to Tom, he’ll see it gets where it needs to go.” Severus replied, his eyes closed again.   “Am I to say who it’s from?” Severus opened one eye and gave you a dark look, he wet his lips and frowned.   “Obviously.”

*******

  You hesitated before pushing open the door to The Leaky Cauldron, it was midday, and the pub was filled yet again with people making merry. You fought your way to the bar and waited to catch the attention of the young witch behind it, your neck craned in each direction to catch a glimpse of her. She appeared finally, two large trays of glasses hovering behind her as she began to rearrange the glassware behind the bar.   “Excuse me!” You said as you waved your hand, she noticed you and gave you a smile.   “Oh, hiya!” She said warmly, “Can I get you a drink?”   “No thank you,” You replied, “Is Tom available?”   “He certainly is,” A voice behind you said, you whirled round to be met with Tom’s smiling face. “Can I help you, miss?”   “Yes actually, I was told to give you this.” You showed him the tiny piece of folded parchment, Tom’s eyes flashed from it to yours and gave you a concerned look.   “Is this from…”   “Severus Snape, yes. He told me you’d know what to do with it.” You levelled, he took it from your hand and placed it into the pocket of his shirt.   “I assume there must be a reason why he sent you and not delivered it himself.” Tom replied with a raised eyebrow, you refused to let your mind wander to the events from the night before.   “Yes, but it’s not for me to say so- can I leave it with you?”   “Of course, I’ll see to it that everything is in order, tell him.” Tom replied, “Merry Christmas, miss.”   “Merry Christmas, Tom.” You watched as he withdrew into the crowd, you turned to the witch behind the bar. “Merry Christmas.” You smiled, she offered you a grin in return and waved her hand.   “Merry Christmas.” She replied cheerfully.

  You didn’t want to go into Diagon Alley, but your feet carried you over the cobbled stones to the dismay of your heart. Despite the growing tensions in the wizarding world, the wonky street was abuzz with people; not unlike the shoppers you had seen in Piccadilly Circus with Pansy. There was a long queue outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and you smiled sadly as you approached the window. The display you had spent so long working on looked magnificent, snow fell from behind the glass and tiny enchanted swans swam in a small lake, surrounded by miniature fur trees and families of deer.     “Penny for your thoughts?” You noticed Fred’s reflection in the glass appear next to you. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tightly.   “I thought you’d still be at The Burrow!” You exclaimed, he laughed and hugged you back. You pulled away and looked into his face, he looked well and cheerful. You had learned the differences between him and George over time, subtle though they were.   “Well somebody’s got to be here to run the shop,” Fred said as he gestured to the busy building, “I’m going back tonight.” You nodded in understanding and he placed your hand in the crook of his arm. “Fancy a walk?”

  Fred led you passed the bustle of the shops and back towards the apparation point.   “You okay, Freddie?”   “Yeah yeah,” He answered quietly, it must be difficult for him to see you- to know what had transpired between you and George. “Look, I don’t want to bombard you with questions or anything, (Y/N). But I need to know; is that you and George done? You left things so up in the air with him, and he’s putting on a brave face don’t get me wrong but…he’s my brother, and I can tell he’s hurting.” You bit your bottom lip, you hated to think about George in pain; but you just weren’t ready to talk about things.   “No, Fred. We’re not done…but he really hurt me, he said some awful things to me; accused me of terrible things and it’s going to take some time for me to be ready to have a conversation about it. Let alone forgive him.” You paused and wiped away a tear that fell onto your cheek. “I suppose I just never expected he could be like that. It surprised me.”   “Bloody surprised us all mate. When George came flying down to the shop floor after you left, ranting and raving- I’d never seen that side of him before. And Merlin, when Snape arrived at mum’s with Mundungus Fletcher, I thought he would wind up with a wand suspension the way he was trying to hex Mundungus.” Fred exhaled with a small laugh, you matched it with a smile. “He’s a good bloke, (Y/N). You mean everything to him. Believe me, I’ve had to share a room with him for the best part of two decades. If you’re not ready to talk about anything, can I at least tell him I saw you today and what you said? I’m sure it’ll make him feel loads better if he knew you hadn’t, you know, broken up with him without him realising.” You considered it for a moment, if Fred told George he had seen you today; it might make him want to find you. He had really respected your space so far and you were grateful for it, but the thought of making Fred keep something like this from his brother was too big of an ask. Plus, you were also keeping a huge secret from him, but you couldn’t tell Fred before you told George- it wasn’t right.   “Yeah, of course, Freddie. Tell him, you can also tell him Merry Christmas and that…I love him.” Fred made a gagging noise and you smacked him on the arm. “I need to go.” You pulled Fred in for one last hug and squeezed enough for him and George. He chuckled as you walked to the apparation point and gave him a big wave goodbye.

*******

  Severus stayed upstairs all afternoon and well into the evening. You couldn’t blame him though, it looked as though he had been through a massive ordeal and he needed time to recover, you couldn’t begrudge him that. You found a magical cooking book in one of the cupboards and coupled with some of the food you had bought at the supermarket, you managed to cook a reasonably tasty meal. Severus made comments about the quality of the steak, but you expected nothing less. You suspected it was only to save face though, as twice when he thought you weren’t looking, you saw him close his eyes and savour the taste of the food. You had served him in his meal in bed, he had managed to prop himself up on the pillows and you sat at the foot of the bed. It seemed quite personal really, but you found yourself savouring the intimate moments you shared with him. It made you feel like he did actually care for you, as more than an ex pupil, as a friend. He asked you about The Leaky Cauldron, who you spoke to, how you got home. After a moment, you felt brave.   “Who did this to you, Severus?” Severus sighed and passed his empty plate over to you.   “Nobody.”   “I find that extremely hard to believe. I need to know if I’m in danger.” You asked him earnestly, he met your gaze with a softness you seldom saw from the man.   “You’re in no more danger now than you have been in the last three days. Please don’t concern yourself with my welfare.” He answered, you suspected he intended to seem sterner than he came across. You wondered if he couldn’t muster the energy to chastise you.   “It’s a bit difficult to do that when I have to take you to the loo every time you want a piss.”   “You’re vile.”     “Pot, kettle, black. I found your blood in my ear this morning. That’s vile.” You laughed and he managed a laugh too. “I’m just glad I was here when you arrived last night.”   “Whether you were here or not, I would have gotten inside one way or another.” He levelled nonchalantly.   “Would it really be so horrendous to just say ‘thank you’?” You let out an exasperated sigh and flopped backwards on the bed. He eyed you with annoyance, but you could tell it was fleeting.   “Yes, actually. For me anyway.”     “Well I’m not surprised. You’re just annoyed I’m working off my debt to you.” You winked and rolled from the bed, you picked up your used plates and took them downstairs.

    You returned when he called for you. You held two glasses of port in your hands and found him in his study.   “When did you get in here?” You asked with a smile, pleased to see him on his feet, if not slightly unsteady.   “I am an enigma of a man, (Y/N). I wouldn’t expect your tiny brain to even begin to comprehend me.” Severus answered with a smirk, you passed him the glass and he raised it to his lips and drank deeply. “Delicious.” It was then you noticed the cauldron bubbling contentedly on his desk. You wandered over to it and inspected the shimmering, iridescent silver liquid, it smelled foul; like rotten eggs and you recoiled.   “What the fuck is that?” You demanded as you covered your nose. Severus had his back to you; he ran a finger along one of the shelves which held bottles of all shapes and sizes and plucked a large green bottle with a jade lid. You watched as he carefully unscrewed the top and dropped a tiny drop of the liquid onto a sprig of lavender. The flowers wilted instantly, and he dropped the whole thing into the cauldron. A great lilac cloud erupted from the cauldron and dissipated as Severus waved his hand.   “This, (Y/N) is a pregnancy test.” Severus replied with a satisfied smile. He beckoned you over to the desk and you sighed as the smell had gotten progressively worse with the addition of the lavender. The liquid had changed from its silver to a dark burgundy, it still held its iridescence as it bubbled.   “Is this what they use in St. Mungo’s?”   “Merlin no, they use a potion so convoluted there you could have had the baby by the time you receive an answer.” Severus sniffed, “This is Enfantin Inventim, it’s old. Really, very old. They stopped using this in everyday practise about three hundred years ago. It’s notoriously difficult to prepare and can often lead to an incorrect result.”   “Should we use it then? If it can give an incorrect result?” You asked anxiously, the last thing you needed was to wait another day. You needed to get on with your life, one way or the other.   “Do you think I would prepare something that would achieve anything other than one-hundred-percent accuracy?” Severus snapped. He had a point; he was a potions master for a reason.   “Okay, what do I do?”   “It isn’t pleasant, (Y/N). Do you trust me?” You considered it for a moment and then nodded, he offered his hand to you, you took it and he pulled you towards him forcefully. Severus winced with the effort and forced your hand open. He quickly drew a pearl-encrusted dagger across the length of your palm, easily opening the flesh. You howled in pain and tried to pull your hand back, Severus clasped it into a fist and squeezed tightly. Blood began to fall from you hand and he brought it over the cauldron, the potion drank your blood hungrily and after you parted with ten drops, the potion began to cloud over.  

  “Stand back.” He commanded, he gave you a scrap of cloth and you pressed it hard into the palm of your hand. “If the liquid turns white, you’re pregnant. If it turns black, you’re in the clear.”   “How long do we have to wait?” You whispered and closed your eyes.   “Not long.” In that moment, you wished George were by your side. He would know exactly what to say, and even if he didn’t, he would make you laugh. You imagined his hand around your waist and his lips pressed to your head in a gentle kiss.   “Severus. If I am…you know. What do I do?”   “I imagine what women have done for a millennia-”   “No, what I mean is-” You paused, unsure of how he would react. “Do I have a- do I have a choice?”   “Of course you have a choice. I can put you in contact with some discreet mediwitches. They’re friendly and would have you sorted in no time.” “Okay.”

  You waited for what seemed an age. You tended to your wounded hand and shot a scowl in Severus’ direction when he likened it to a scratch compared to his. The cauldron continued to bubble, it produced green smoke and spat out occasionally. You couldn’t take it anymore. Severus stirred it dutifully and you told him you’d be back in a moment, trapsing your way to the bathroom. You paced back and forth frantically. You couldn’t stand the waiting idly by, you had fashioned a bandage for your hand out of the cloth and some rolled up toilet paper when you caught your reflection in the mirror. You moved towards it and placed your hands gently on the sink underneath it.   “You need to sort your fucking life out, (Y/N).” You said to your reflection, you stared deeply into your own face. Hardly even recognising the person reflected back to you.   “(Y/N)!” You heard Severus shout from the study. “It’s done.” You supressed the bile that rose in your throat and took a deep breath. You stepped uneasily back into the room to see Severus’ neutral face waiting for you. He stood with his hands behind his back.   “Have you looked?”   “Yes.”   “What is it?”   “For fucks sake, have a look.” He snapped; he shook his head with a scowl as you inched toward the cauldron. Your hands trembled as you peered down into the now still liquid. It was black. The liquid was black.   “It’s-”   “Black.” He answered with a smile.   “I’m-”   “Not. Pregnant.”

  You cried out a tremendous cry of relief. Big tears rolled down your cheeks as you moved to Severus in two swift movements and threw your arms around his shoulders. He swayed with surprise.   “Ow. Careful.” He murmured before he patted you awkwardly on the back. When you pulled away, you beamed triumphantly up at him and he returned your smile. “You can thank me by releasing me.” You complied with a laugh, a genuine laugh. You felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, you breathed easier than you had done in weeks.   “Thank you, Severus. I suggest you stop being nice to me or I’ll forever feel indebted to you.” You laughed, you noticed Severus’ expression alter slightly. “What? What did I say?”   “I feel like I haven’t been quite honest with you.” Severus said quietly, “Don’t interrupt me, just let me finish, yes?” You nodded and took a step back. You waited patiently for Severus to speak, he seemed to mull the words over before he was satisfied.   “You asked me a while ago whether I’m this involved with all of my old student’s lives, and I think we both know the answer to that. When I returned to Malfoy Manor after I took you to The Burrow, your father took me to one side.” You eyed him suspiciously as he wet his lips before continuing, “He knew what I had done and asked for a favour.”   “Of course he did.”   “Shut up, I’m not finished. He asked me if would be able to keep an eye on you, he knew I had connections almost everywhere, and he wanted reports of your whereabouts. And I agreed.” You stared unblinking at Severus. “He offered monthly payments if I could tell him where you were going, what you were doing, who you were seeing etcetera.” Severus squared his shoulders and took a sip of his port. “He just wanted to know you were safe.”   “So he paid you to spy on me?”   “In essence, yes. I never accepted the money though.” Severus levelled, you covered your eyes with your good hand and sighed.   “That’s why you let me stay in your house.” Severus nodded grimly and gestured for you to sit. You did so and chewed on your lip. You felt a multitude of emotions, not one of them good.   “There is one more thing, (Y/N). That night in The Leaky Cauldron where Mundungus saw you and I for the first time. He was there on my orders.” Your mouth fell agape. No, no absolutely not, that couldn’t be. Severus couldn’t possibly have ordered the hurt that Mundungus inflicted. You stared at him again, stony faced as tears began to trickle down your cheek.   “I heard you though, I followed you into the alleyway when you confronted him.” You said feebly, your lip quivered.   “I know, I made sure you would hear so not to suspect me. I was annoyed at him though, that was never part of the plan. He went rogue, so to speak.”

  A heavy silence descended between the pair of you. Severus, his usual staidness reduced to slumped shoulders and a guilty expression. There was a plethora of things you wanted to say, questions you wanted to ask him, but you couldn’t find the words. He finished his port and hobbled out of the room, your heard him enter the bathroom. You sat still, positively unable to process everything he had told you. Was there anything in your life that you held control over? When he appeared in the doorway, his face was ashen with pain and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his brow.   “Do you have any cigarettes?” You asked him slowly. He nodded and pointed downstairs, you pushed passed him and retrieved them from his discarded coat. You carried the remainder of the bottle of port back with you and sat on the floor. Severus moved slowly passed you and collapsed into the chair, the evidence of his exertion etched into his face. You filled his glass with the ruby liquid and then pressed the bottle to your lips and took three deep swigs. He raised an eyebrow as if to complain but thought better of it.   “Did you ever care about me, Severus? Because if it isn’t already clear, I care about you.” You pulled a cigarette out of the packet and lit it, you threw the packet into Severus’ lap, a little harder than you intended. He winced and lit his own cigarette.   “Of course I care.” You scoffed and took another swig from the bottle.   “And are you going to tell him about this? My father?” You pointed to the cauldron full of Enfantin Inventim. Severus shook his head and took a sip.   “No, I did this for you.”   “Why should I believe you?”   “You don’t have to, I suppose. I can’t force you.”

  You were silent again after that, you took long drags of your cigarette until the heat became too much as it reached the filter and burned your lip. You finished off the port and dropped the stub into the now empty bottle. Severus didn’t remove his eyes from your face, as if he were waiting for you to explode. You had every right to, you could go and punch walls and kick holes in doors, but what would that achieve?   “I’m trying really hard to be angry at you.” You whispered. Severus’ look of surprise almost took you off guard.   “And?”   “I can’t.” Severus sighed and slipped further into the chair, he finished his cigarette and beckoned for the empty bottle. He dropped the stub in slowly, his face contorted with pain as he stretched. You watched as he did his usual action of wetting his lips, his tell-tale sign that he was about to speak.   “I do care about you, (Y/N). There’s a goodness in you that one doesn’t always see when they’re brought up in the circles we frequent. I’m satisfied knowing I played my part in ensuring you got out of it all. You remind me very much of somebody I knew a long time ago, someone I wished I could have done more to help, but it wasn’t within my power. This, on the other hand, was very much within my capabilities. I’m not sorry.” His face settled into a frown and you sighed with exasperation.   “Fucks sake.” You muttered, you rose from your spot on the floor and made your way to Severus. You dipped your head and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “You’re an arsehole.”   “Believe me, (Y/N). That is one of the tamer names I have been called in my time.” He smiled ruefully and found your hand and gave it a squeeze.   “If I ask you a question, will you promise to answer it honestly?” You asked, you saw the faintest hint of humour flash across his eyes.   “I shall try.”   “Was it the Dark Lord who hurt you last night?” He looked at you thoughtfully, a smile tugged at his lips. Severus lifted his chin and placed a finger on it and brushed it over his lips.   “Yes.” You didn’t quite know what to do with the information, you weren’t quite sure why you asked the question. You simply nodded and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Please don’t worry about me, (Y/N). I know what I’m doing.”   “Still.” Severus shrugged, he looked to the clock on the wall and then out of the window into the night.   “If you leave now, you could make it to The Burrow by midnight. Bring in Christmas with your loved ones.” He said quietly, you wondered if you saw the slightest twinge of remorse on his face. You cocked your head to the side.   “You want me to go?”   “I think we both know it’s time for you to, what’s the expression, ‘get your shit together.’” You snorted and threw your head back as you laughed.   “You could come with me, if you like; to The Burrow?” Severus shook his head, his hands outstretched in front of him.   “No thank you, I prefer my own company.”   “What will you do? Will you be okay if I go?”   “I have weathered much more serious casualties than this one by myself. I shall be fine. I will travel back to Hogwarts in the morning ready for my Christmas Dinner.”   “Are you sure?”   “Go,” Severus stated with a small smile, “Get out of my house.”

******

  It was five to midnight when you knocked on the door to The Burrow. You didn’t want to just burst in, just in case they were asleep or busy with family time. Your fingers flew to your neck where the intricate choker your father had sent you sat at the base of your throat; it was a special occasion after all. You knocked again and stood back to take a look at the house. There were a few lights still on even at this late hour, you strained to hear any noises on the other side of the wood and were about to knock for a third time when the door flew open. Ginny stood in fluffy red pyjamas, wand raised and a look of shock on her face. You launched yourself at her and she you, you engulfed each other in a vice like hug.   “I knew you’d come.” She whispered, “George is going to wet himself.” She led you through the house where only Molly, Ginny and Ron sat by the fireplace in the living room. Molly clasped her hands to her mouth as she struggled to get out of her chair quickly.   “Oh! My dear!” She said as she tottered toward you, she pulled you close to her chest and rocked you back and forth. “I am so happy you’re here; we can finally celebrate now.”   “Please don’t, you’re going to make me cry.” You said as Molly pulled away and placed a warm hand to your cheek.   “Welcome home.” She whispered. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  The sound of feet thundering down the rickety staircase made you jump, Ginny arrived breathlessly at the bottom and George immediately behind her dressed in his pyjamas. Your eyes met across the expanse and you opened your arms to him. He crossed to you in a flash and placed two hands on your face and pressed his lips hungrily to yours. You tossed your arms around his neck, and his arms moved down your body and hugged your waist. You pressed your forehead to his and sighed.   “Merry Christmas.” You breathed; a whisper of a smile played at George’s lips.   “Merry Christmas.” He replied, he laced his fingers with yours and beamed at you. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  Most of the snow had melted in the fields surrounding The Burrow, and you were grateful for it as George almost dragged you along a beaten path to a wooden bench under a tree, a good quarter of a mile away from the house. He pressed a hand to the seat and shrugged;   “It’s not wet, just cold.”   “I can handle cold.” You sat close to him on the bench, his arm around your shoulders as you both gazed up into the crisp night sky. There was something about the way the stars looked from here, like you could reach out and touch them. Lonely clouds like tiny whisps of smoke littered the sky occasionally, and you took turns in those moments where the stars weren’t visible in giving the other a kiss.   “Merlin, I missed you.” George said into your hair, he stroked the side of your face with a gloved finger and you melted into his touch. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”   “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about it, George, but I need to tell you something.” You replied, his gaze softened as he placed another tender kiss to your lips. You sighed contentedly at the feeling of warmth that spread through you, you were home. He squared his shoulders and shifted slightly on the bench, so to face you more.

  He listened intently whilst you told him of everything since you had last seen him. He nodded and occasionally asked the odd question like; “Was the inside of Snape’s house full of bodies?” and “God, I can’t believe you slept in his bed. Was it a coffin?” The only thing you neglected to tell him was of Severus’ attack, you didn’t know how deep the waters were that surrounded his area of his life and you didn’t feel like it was your place to share that information. When you told him of your pregnancy scare, his eyes widened, and his jaw clenched.   “(Y/N),” He said sternly, “You should have told me straight away. That’s not fair.”   “I know love, I feel awful about it. That’s one thing I’m truly sorry for, George. I promise not do anything like it again.” He nodded, seemingly content with that and kissed the tip of your nose. You began to tell him of the plot your father had embroiled Severus in, and George’s hands clenched into fists.   “That fucking snake.” George muttered, “How are you not furious?”   “Believe me, I tried to be,” You answered, “We talked about it and I decided there’s more important things to be worried about. I don’t blame him for what he did and neither should you, okay?”   “Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”   “I’ll take it.”

  When you climbed into bed that night, it was nearly two in the morning. The rest of the house was sound asleep as you and George became reacquainted. His hands found themselves tangled in your hair and you moaned quietly as he pulled softly, his mouth lathering your neck in kisses.   “Fuck, I’ve missed the sounds you make.” George breathed into your ear, you tipped your head back and found his mouth with yours. His hands travelled from your hair down to your hips, he pulled you close, and you felt his already hard member as it pushed against his boxers. You brought a hand down and cupped it, he hissed at the contact and bucked his hips forward. “Please let me fuck you, (Y/N). It’s been too long.”   “Yes, oh, fuck yes. Do it, George.”

  He wasted no time in pushing your knickers over your bum, and you wiggled frantically in an attempt to free yourself from them. He pulled his boxers down and climbed between your legs, he rubbed his cock against your folds and spat into his hand, rubbing it along his shaft for extra lubrication. When he pushed into you, you moaned together. It was like for one split second, the earth stopped. Everything stopped. You could hear your heartbeat in your eyes as you pulled George’s head down to kiss his lips. You ran your tongue along his bottom lip, and he shuddered. He rolled his hips against yours, and you grasped onto his shoulders tightly. George pulled out almost completely, before he pushed into you again; fully sheathed inside you. He did this three more times before you cried out;   “Please! I can’t take it anymore!” With a growl, George thrusted hard. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at intense pace, he lifted your legs above his shoulders, allowing him to bury himself deeper within you. You gasped at the sensation of being utterly filled by him, your brow furrowed as you struggled to keep your moans quiet. He continued this pace, his cock now slick with your juices as you bit down hard on the back of your hand. He pushed back slightly and reached a hand in between your legs, parting them slightly as he began to furiously rub your clit. Your eyes rolled back into your head as overwhelming pulses of pleasure coursed through your veins, you moved your hips with his, suddenly desperate for release. George let your legs fall from his shoulders as he grasped your hips, moving you with ease along his throbbing cock. You groaned, as George pressed harder against your mound, drawing from you a string of curses as you trundled towards your orgasm.   “Fuck, I’m going to come, George.” The surprise in your voice was palpable, the swiftness in which George was going to make you come was incredible. You panted hard against his shoulder as with a grunt, his nimble fingers rubbed you to completion, his cock hitting the delicious spot inside you. As you reached the peak of your high, George followed. He groaned as your walls tightened around him and he spilled his seed deep into your quim.   “Sorry,” George breathed, “I couldn’t hold on any longer.” You smiled and kissed him, it was tender and held every ounce of love you had for him. He deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue around with yours as his hand cupped your breast. “I’m going to fuck you so hard as soon as we get to the flat, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”   “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Georgie.” You smirked, he tweaked your nipple between his fingers and brought his mouth close to your ear, his voice deathly low.   “I’m going to make you come, over and over again. You’re going to beg me to stop. Then I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you the way you ought to be fucked. Rough and hard because naughty girls don’t get fucked nicely.”

  Your skin flushed with heat as he nibbled at your earlobe, desire already building between your legs. You cast a look to George, who looked about two seconds away from falling asleep and giggled.   “Do you want to be the little spoon?” You asked, he didn’t answer, instead he rolled his body away from you and faced the wall. He pushed his bum out and you gave it a playful slap.   “Don’t get any ideas.” He muttered and you grinned as you wrapped your arm around his middle. He laced his fingers with yours and hummed contentedly as the room gave way to the quiet of the house.   “I’m so happy you came back.” George whispered; his voice heavy with tiredness.   “Me too. I love you.” You replied with a yawn.   “Love you too.”

  George complained the entire way back to the flat. He had insisted on carrying your bags plus gifts you had received over Christmas, including but limited to; a lovely scarf Molly had painstakingly kitted for you and a hilariously ruffled gilet for George. You couldn’t help but grin consistently as you walked ahead of him up the back stairs to the entrance of the flat, his hat had slipped over his eyes and he lost his footing. Your suitcase lurched backwards, it manged to bump comically every step before it lay still at the bottom of the stairs.   “Right!” George announced, he dropped the rest of the bags and grabbed hold of your hips. You yelped in surprise as George hoisted you over his shoulder, fireman style and proceeded up the rest of the stairs. He near enough kicked the front door open and moved swiftly through the flat and into your shared bedroom, he ignored your giggled protestations and flung you down onto the bed. He was on top of you in an instant, his knee pushed your legs apart and his mouth descended onto your throat. He sucked and nibbled at the sensitive skin and began undoing the buttons of your coat.     “Off.” He ordered as he opened your coat and tugged at the bottom of your jumper. Dutifully, you sat up and removed the offending items of clothing. His gaze was ravenous as he watched as you tucked your hair behind your ears and waited for further instructions. George’s gaze flashed down to your breasts. “Off.” He repeated. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as George removed his own coat and shirt, his hands moved to his belt and he slipped both his jeans and boxers from his body, his already hard cock sprung against his stomach as you followed suit. You threw your jeans across the room and your knickers next.

 “So beautiful,” George commented as he ran a featherlight touch across your cheek. “Such a good girl.” You melted into George’s ghost like touch and shuddered. You kept your eyes on him as he brought a hand down to his cock and rubbed along the length slowly. “Touch yourself, (Y/N) I want to see you make yourself come.” Your eyes widened with shock for a moment before a smile crept across your mouth and you brought your hands to your breasts. Was it a show he was after? Then a show he would get. You placed your fingers on each of your hardened nipples and tugged slightly, your lips parted slightly at the sensation. You heard George as he took a sharp intake of breath as he gripped the head of his cock. You trailed one hand slowly down your body and shuffled down the bed as you lay your shoulders back onto the covers. You reached your throbbing cunt and spread your legs wide for George to see, he moaned as you brought your fingers over your clit and rubbed a sweeping circle of it.   “That’s it,” George moaned, “Let me see you- oh! Good girl.” You watched as George began to pump himself faster, your name fell from his lips as you plunged two fingers between your slick folds. You matched George’s pace as you fucked yourself with your fingers, you closed your eyes and fisted the sheets with your free hand. Pleasure built within you as with each pulse of your fingers, you found your sweet spot. “Come quickly, (Y/N). I want to see how fast you can come.”

  You took your fingers out of your entrance and brought them now coated in your juices and recommenced the rubbing of your clit. You moaned as you rubbed tantalisingly quick circles on the electrified pearl between your legs. Your toes curled as you felt your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach, you moaned, and George answered it with a moan of his own. Your hips bucked from the bed as you pressed harder with each swipe of your fingers until you came, it was fantastically intense and your voice, thick with desire called out for George.   “Come here.” He demanded once you had recovered. His cock was impossibly hard and almost screamed for attention as you crawled slowly over to where he sat. George placed a hand on your head as you took him in your mouth, you placed a tender kiss to the tip and licked the little drops of precum that had gathered there. He sighed as you pushed your lips down the length of hi and relaxed your throat, allowing him a small thrust. His gentle hand became a fist in your hair as he pulled you back, almost pulling you away from his cock; but your hand reached around the base of him and began to pump him. Your tongue swirled around his tip and George’s head rolled back as you wrapped your lips around him and swallowed. You found a rhythm and George’s hand on your head helped you keep time; you could see the muscles in his thighs tense as you hummed around him.   “Fuck. That feels good. Such a good girl.”

  At George’s praise, you sucked him faster, hollowing your cheeks and your grip around his shaft tightened. George’s hips began to lift off the bed as he thrust into your mouth. There was nothing you loved more in this world than to feel this man come undone under your hand, you moaned against him and he slid further into your throat. That was enough for George, who parted with four thick spurts with a cry of pleasure. You swallowed it up and wiped your mouth, you pulled away and gently massaged your aching jaw. You watched the rise and fall of George’s chest as he recovered from his orgasm, arm slung over his eyes.   “I love you.” You whispered, you felt tears sting your eyes and you sniffed. George sat up and looked at you, his face etched with concern.   “I love you too, what’s the matter?” He asked, he pulled you close and bundled you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you nuzzled your face against his neck.   “Nothing, nothing. I’m just so happy.” George chuckled and hugged you tighter, you popped a leg over his and hummed as happy tears fell from your eyes.   “Me too.”

**********

  “No, those need to go to the stockroom, Fred. I’m not having them cluttering up the flat. There’s already zero room in here as it is.” You gestured around you to the boxes of stock that stood tall in your tiny living room.   “Right, and I’m telling you there’s nowhere to put them. We need more space.” Fred sighed and placed the box full of love potions on the floor. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Angelina appeared from behind a tower of boxes, her face aghast as Fred opened his arms to her. He placed a kiss on her shoulder.   “We’re drowning in all this.” She said, you shook her head at you; a silent communication that the boys had finally lost the plot.   “What do we need to do?” George called from the doorway, he levitated three coffee’s behind him as he held a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand, a bottle of champagne in the other. You grinned as he rushed to you, he presented the flowers to you and you sniffed them gratefully. Roses, lily’s and daisies. Your favourite.   “They’re beautiful, George! Thank you!” You placed a loving kiss to his cheek and traced a lily petal delicately with your finger as George put the champagne in the fridge.   “Congratulations my love! And happy second anniversary.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a hug.   “This mine?” Angelina asked, she pointed at one of the three coffees suspended behind George’s shoulder.  “Oh yeah sorry, Ange. This one’s yours love.” George smiled and dished the coffees out; Angelina gave George a warm smile of thanks as you sipped happily.   “Where’s mine?” Fred demanded; George patted his pockets sarcastically.    “You weren’t here, mate.” He shrugged, Fred huffed and turned his attention to you.   “Congratulations I suppose, (Y/N). Still think you’re wasting your time being a Healer.” Fred said, Angelina wasted no time smacking his stomach.   “You think I’m wasting my time being a Healer…as we’re about to go into war?” You said, despite the seriousness of your words, a smile tugged at your lips as you knew Fred was just sorry to lose you from the shop. You had spent the last year and a half revising your arse off to be fast-tracked through the training programme. It was the only way you could think of to give back an inch of the kindness you had received. You had received your lime green robes this morning, an immensely proud moment indeed.   “All I’m saying is, you could have been junior assistant manager. I had the badge made for you and everything.”   “Ignore him, (Y/N).” Angelina said as she rolled her eyes, “We’re all really proud of you. Well done, babe.” You handed George the flowers and tossed your arms around Angelina’s neck for a hug.   “Thank you, Ange. What did I ever do without you to help reign dear Freddie in?” You laughed and she laughed with you.   “Think there’s anyway we can back out, Georgie?” Fred whispered dramatically to George who just grinned ruefully.   “Not a chance.”   “Too fucking right. You’re stuck with us now.” Angelina replied, an arm slung round your shoulders. “We still need to work out what to do with these boxes.”   “There’s no room for them in here.” George offered, he waved his wand over your flowers and they arranged themselves beautifully in a vase.   “No,” Angelina agreed, “I think we all know this flat isn’t big enough for four people, couples or not.” You nodded and made your way back to George, he hoisted himself up onto the kitchen counter and you settled between his legs.   “What are you thinking?” Fred asked his girlfriend; Angelina shrugged and sipped her coffee.   “We were thinking,” You replied, “Turning this upstairs flat into a staff room and overflow stockroom. You’re selling so much, so obviously have to have the stock to sell. There just isn’t room for us in here anymore. Plus, I’m pretty sure the staff would love to be able to come up here and have an actual cup of tea on their breaks.”   “We think we should move.” Angelia said, “Separately.” She added softly. George’s hand stiffened around your waist. You wished that Angelina had waited a day or two before dropping the bombshell, but the pair you had spent the last month speaking of little else. You and George needed your own space, and Fred and Angelina needed theirs as much.   “You want us to move away from each other?” Fred asked incredulously, you offered him a small smile.   “Not exactly.”

**********

  The portkey dropped you in the middle of a field. You were on your lunch break and only had half an hour before you needed to be back at St. Mungo’s. George looked stressed as he straightened his tie, you could tell he was nervous. You took his clammy hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.   “You okay?”   “Yeah,” He replied in a strained voice. “It’s just a lot of money to part with.” You sighed and dragged him in the direction of Fred and Angelina who stood waving at you. You approached them with hello’s and hugs and waited.   “What time’s he meant to be coming?” Fred asked as he checked his watch, you followed suit and checked the upturned watch pinned to your robes. Only twenty minutes left.   “Any minute now.” Angelina asked. You all looked in opposite directions, scouring the grassy horizons for any sight of the man in question. What you didn’t expect, was for him to surprise you from behind.   “You can never expect a group of Gryffindor’s to be on time.” You felt a grin widen across your face as you saw Severus fold his arms across his chest.   “Excuse me, I’m one of yours.” You replied, he shook your hand rather formally but gave you a brief wink as he dropped two sets of keys into George’s hand.   “Is it all sorted?” George asked the potions master, Severus nodded.   “Yes, I watched them as they signed the paperwork this morning. All in your names now, though I don’t see why you had to have me do it. I’m very busy.”   “Because I don’t trust anybody else.” You countered, “I needed to be one-hundred-percent sure my parents wouldn’t try any funny business.”   “They were quite happy to get rid of these cottages if you ask me. They have no need for them anymore, especially given that they’ve sold the house in Rouen.” Severus said, he looked up at the old stone walls of the two cottages.   “The price of war, I suppose.” Fred quipped; Severus cocked an eyebrow but ultimately smirked in agreement. You broke away from George and the others and placed your arm through Severus’, wandering a few steps.   “Thank you again, I really appreciate that.” You whispered; your heads close together. Severus placed a hand on top of yours and patted it softly. “Are you still coming for lunch on Sunday? It’s my only day off this week.”   “Are you cooking?”   “No, George is.”   “Yes, I shall arrive at twelve.”

  You waved as Severus made off into the distance, when there was no longer any sight of him. Angelina turned to you, and then back out to the cottages. A pair of great stone cottages with an adjoining garden stood before you. That had been built hundreds of years ago by twin farmers who tended the surrounding fields. They were acquired by your parents in the sixties; and now were to make new homes for you and George, Fred and Angelina. It was fitting really that another pair of twins would live in them all those years later, making new memories.   “How long have you got before you need to be back at the hospital?” George whispered into your ear. You glanced down at your watch.   “Fifteen minutes.”   “Plenty of time.” He breathed, George grabbed your hand and dragged you laughing towards the front door of your cottage. The door slammed behind you as he placed a hungry kiss to your lips. His hands where everywhere at once, slipping your robes over your head and grunting in your ear.   “This is our house, (Y/N). I want to hear how loud you can be.”

Of course, you complied; you wanted everybody to know that you were his, forever.

[underfell-crystal]

~The second chapter for my bittybones story is here! If you'd like to see other bitty types in the future, let me know through the comments or my ask box! As always, asks about my stories are welcome!~

~~~A Little Bit(ty) of a Small World~~~

~~Chapter 2: Back to Bitty City~~

The first thing you checked as soon as you got home was the PB&J you had set out for the bitty. It was gone, but there was an odd yellow substance smeared on the plate as well. You hesitantly picked up the plate and sniffed it, and immediately recognized the substance as mustard. How was there mustard on the plate? You were quite confident that you hadn't put mustard on the plate, so that left two options. One, someone had broken into your house to specifically put mustard on your plate, or two, the bitty had, for some unholy reason, decided to put mustard on a perfectly good PB&J. You didn't know which was worse.

You shook your head and put the tiny plate into the sink, setting the cage by the door. You kicked off your shoes and looked around your house. You felt like you were bring watched and tried not to shiver. It was strange, to be watched in an apartment where you were supposed to be living alone. You shook yourself and reminded yourself what you needed to do. You grabbed another small plate from the cabinet and piled it with grapes, Ritz crackers, and various slices of meat and cheese. You had set out a thimble for later yesterday, and filled it with water. You set the plate and the thimble of water down on the counter, sat on a stool about three feet away, and waited.

It was nearly an hour before anything happened. You had been on your phone, texting a friend, when you saw something move out of the corner of your eye, making a beeline for the food. You didn't react in fear of accidentally spooking the bitty, but listened quietly as it began devouring the food. After about twenty seconds, you slowly lifted your gaze from your phone and made eye contact with the bitty. It was wearing a red turtleneck and black shorts with a single yellow stripe on each side. It looked adorable. It froze, a grape clutched in it's tiny, sharp hands. You made no move toward it, only blinked slowly and lowering your gaze slightly. You weren't sure if the tactic of displaying submissiveness would work, but you heard another squish as the bitty bit into the grape, so you assumed you had placated the tiny being. Suddenly, a raspy voice came from in front of you. "The fuck are ya doin, human?"

You startled from the sudden voice and looked up. The bitty was glaring at you, chewing half of the grape in it's sharp-toothed mouth. It finally registered in your mind that the bitty had asked you a question. "I..... what...?"

The bitty looked irritated, shoving the other half of the grape into it's mouth. "Why the fuck are ya feeding me?"

"Oh.... well, I didn't want you to be hungry."

The bitty narrowed it's eyesockets at you. "Oh? And what's the cage for?"

Oops.. the cage might have been a bad idea. The bitty looked mad. "It... was just in case-"

"In case of what?"

You gulped. "In case you didn't come willingly to the bitty center?...."

You sounded sketchy even to yourself. The bitty scoffed and seized a slice of ham from the plate, tearing into it with it's pointy teeth. "So if I don't cooperate, you're gonna throw me in a cage and ship me off to the bitty center?"

"No!"

The bitty blinked at you. "No.... what?"

"That's.... I was hoping I could adopt you. You know, so you don't have to live in the walls."

The bitty stared at you. You felt your anxiety begin to climb. "I-I mean, um.... I just.... I thought you'd..... you know, like to be...."

"Be a pet?"

You winced at the word. Bitties were more like tiny people than pets. "No, not a pet. More like.... a companion?"

The bitty paused it's assault on the slice of ham to examine you with distrustful red eyelights. After a minute, it scoffed and resumed eating. "Sure, whatever."

You couldn't stop the dopey grin that spread across your face. "Is it okay if I take you to the bitty center tomorrow?"

The bitty grunted. You decided to take that as a yes. "You need a name..."

The bitty snorted. "Eager, are you?"

You flushed. "I... just thought I should call you something other than 'bitty'."

The bitty rolled it's eyelights. "Just don't name me anything stupid. And don't give any girl names. 'M a boy."

You tapped your chin, thinking. "What about... Sam?"

"No, that's a stupid name."

"Hey, I know some nice Sams!"

"Pick a different name."

"Jacob."

"Nope."

"Elliot."

"Nah."

"Seargant. Sarge for short."

The bitty paused before resuming his mission of inhaling a cheese slice as big as him. He shrugged. "It's not as stupid as the other ones."

You smiled triumphantly. "Alright Sarge."

The bitty grunted. "Don't overuse it."

You chuckled. "Sure thing, Boss."

You looked at the bitty, hesitant. "Um... can I hold you?"

Sarge gave you an incredulous look. "The fuck for?"

"Don't bitties need Soul time?"

Sarge huffed in annoyance. "Yeah."

"So.....?"

"Fine."

You held out your hand, and Sarge eyed your hand before crawling over to it, sitting in your palm and glaring up at you. You slowly lifted your hand up to your chest, cradling the tiny bitty against your collarbone. Sarge didn't move for a moment, and you were afraid he was going to change his mind, but then he groaned in defeat and laid his skull against your shoulder. You smiled and moved one of your hands so you could gently stroke the back of his skull, to which he immediately began to purr.

You stayed like that until you felt yourself beginning to nod off. You stood up from your stool, taking care to not disturb Sarge, and went to your room. You tried to dislodge him from your shirt so you could change into your pajamas, but he refused to let go, his tiny claws clenching the fabric. You huffed in amusement and laid on your bed on your back, stroking Sarge's skull until you fell asleep.

The next morning came quickly, and both you and Sarge groaned when your alarm went off. You reached out an arm and failed it around until you hit a button to shut off the noise before sighing and sitting up, other hand cupped beneath Sarge to ensure he didn't fall off. He squinted up at you sleepily. "Izzit time to get up already?"

You chuckled. "Yep. And I need to take a shower, so you need to let go."

With great reluctance, Sarge relinquished his hold on your shirt. You carefully set him down on your desk and grabbed some clothes from your closet, trudging over to the bathroom and closing the door. You turned the water on and stripped off your wrinkled clothes, stepping into the shower. After your wonderful time in the shower, you stepped out, toweled yourself off, and got dressed. You did your hair and brushed your teeth, then left the bathroom. Sarge wasn't on the desk, which gave you a mini-heart attack, but then you heard cursing from the kitchen. You left your room and walked to the kitchen, finding the tiny bitty struggling with a bottle of mustard. Sarge froze upon seeing you before scowling. "Took ya long enough."

You chuckled, walking over to him. "Need some help with that?"

The bitty growled. "No! I got it!"

You watched him try to open the lid for another minute and a half before taking it and popping off the lid. Sarge pouted. "I loosened it for ya."

You laughed. "Of course you did."

Sarge made grabby hands at the mustard bottle, and you handed it to him. To your amazement, he began to guzzle it as soon as he got into a position where he could drink it. After a moment, he pulled away from the mouth of the bottle, wiping his mouth on his turtleneck with a grin. "Ahh... that's the good stuff."

".... You're so weird."

The bitty scoffed and vanished. You felt a slight weight on your shoulder and looked at your shoulder to see the bitty clinging to your ear. You chuckled. "Comfy?"

Sarge bared his sharp teeth at you. "Just GO."

You complied. You went to the door and put on your shoes, then went down the stairs and out to your parked car. You got into the driver's seat and felt Sarge shift around on your shoulder. You put your seat belt on, checked your mirrors, and began your drive back to Bitty City. Sarge was quiet the whole way, but you assumed he was just nervous about being in a new place. When you turned into the parking lot, Sarge began to fidget on your shoulder. "Uh..... maybe this isn't such a good idea..."

You looked at him. "What do you mean? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."

Sarge scowled and crossed his arms. "So what if I am?"

"Why are you scared of the bitty center?"

Sarge spluttered in outrage. "I ain't SCARED!!"

"Then why don't you want to go inside?"

Sarge scowled. "If you're gonna be such an ass about it, fine! Let's go in."

"But-"

"Just go in, idiot."

You sighed and got out of the car, Sarge sitting on your shoulder. You walked inside and toward the register when a booming bark erupted behind you. You turned and saw an enormous dog bounding toward you, snarling and frothing at the mouth. You and Sarge squeaked in horror.

~A cliffhanger! Excellent. If you wanna give theories, suggestions, or ask about the story, you can do so in my ask box! Please reblog, as it helps spread my work. Thank you for reading, my gems!~

Previous

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Time got away

And Rafi is back. This was inspired by the little clip of Raul walking out on his phone for the best writing buddy a gal could ask for @detective-giggles​ xx

WC: 2307

Warnings: Smut, not my gif and sorry for any mistakes.

 You sat in the car looking at the arrest warrant torn at what to do, 

"We should just do it, Carisi-" 

"Kat, Sonny isn't our boss, if we have this wrong and we make the arrest Liv is going to be pissed. Fin's not answering we need to call her" 

"But she said she didn't want to be-" 

"Unless it was an emergency and I think this is an emergency"  you cut Kat off.

 You picked up your phone and dialled Liv's number and to your surprise she picked up in a couple of rings and she didn't sound angry, 

 "Y/N what's up?" 

 "Liv we really need you to run over this paper work, Sonny wants us to make the arrest, but my gut-and the results aren't back yet" 

 "Ok, well I won't be back for a while, I’ll send you the address that I ‘am at, come there" 

You and Kat pulled up around the corner of the address Liv sent you. You both jumped out and all but ran to door walking into the small restaurant. Kat had walked in before you when your phone pinged with a new message from the lab with the results. You were walking slowly looking at your phone following Kat's voice as you walked, 

 "Fin we have been trying to call you- Sorry to distrub your lunch Liv" you heard Kat say. 

 "Ok- wished we had got this sooner because we wouldn't have had to call you, results are back" 

 You looked up and what was in front of you was a surprise of the best kind. Your eyes were wide and your mouth open, 

 "Barba?" 

 "Detective Y/L/N" Rafael smiled and slid out from the booth walking up to you and giving you a hug "It's so good to see you" Rafael said in your ear pulling back and giving your shoulder a squeeze "how are you?"  

 It was like the whole room melted away and it was just you and him. You scanned his beard covered face before meeting his beautiful green eyes and you both smiled at each other, 

 "I ‘am good, how are you?  Your back?" 

"Good" Rafael nodded and smiled "Yes I’ am" 

 "Well welcome back, Manhattan missed you" He chuckled at you and gave you a wink. 

 "Sorry to break up the reunion but what's the results?" Fin was leaning over the back of the booth seat. 

 Yours and Rafael's eyes lingered a little longer on each other before you were pulled back down by your phone ringing, 

 "Sonny I’ll call you back- no we are with Liv now- you’re not my boss so don't start- yes I got them too, ill ring you when it's done"  

 You cleared your throat opening your lock screen back up to the lab results, Rafael didn't miss the photo on your screen of Sonny, Amanda, him and you from his very last night out with the squad before everything spiralled, you all had your arms around each other but your cheek was on his smiling big. His heart swelled reaching into his pocket pulling out his wallet pulling out a card with his new number on it.  

 "Ok go- Fin go with them they are going to need back up"  

 Fin slid out of his seat, Kat and him rushing off,  

 "Good work Y/N" Liv smiled up at you,  

 "Thanks Liv, Rafael hope to see you again soon" you smiled and went to turn away. 

 As you turned away you felt Rafael's hand on your shoulder stopping you, "I know you have to go but here" he handed you his card "Call me when you finish work, we can get a drink" 

 You nodded, your cheeks slightly pink, "I would love that" you kissed him on the cheek before rushing out. Rafael sat back down and looked out the window as you rushed by, his tummy did a flip, 

 "She was a nightmare after you left" Liv took a sip of her coffee “I thought I was going to have another Amaro on my hands” Liv smirked

 "What?" Rafael looked at Liv. 

 “She took it really hard. She hasn't changed that picture on her phone since you left." 

 It was around 10 by the time you got back to your place after the arrest, interviews and processing. You were standing at your kitchen bench and you pulled the card out of your back pocket and stared at it for a long while. You picked up your phone opening it to dial the number,  

 "Hello" 

 "Hey Rafael its Y/N, sorry did I wake you?" 

 "No of course not, did you just get home?" 

 "Yeah it was a long day, I'm sure you remember how it is" 

 Rafael laughed "Do you have to go in tomorrow?" 

 "No, Kat and I have the day off- but I'm on call just in case" 

 "Well then, how about that drink?" 

 The cab pulled up in front of the hotel and you took in a deep breath before you walked in. You had 15 minutes from the time you got off the phone till you needed to leave. You showered putting on long tights and knee high boots, with a long lose mustard wool jumper. Your hair was wavy from being in a bun all day so you ran with lose waves and light make-up. 

 As you walked into the lobby you saw Rafael leaning against the wall looking down at his phone looking just as handsome as you seen him earlier in his jeans and a jacket. Where he was staying wasn't far from your place so you messaged when you were leaving. 

 Rafael must have heard your foot steps on the tiles and looked up, your eyes meeting and a big smile pulling to both your faces. Rafael started to walk towards you wrapping his arms around you pulling you in for a big hug and kissing your cheek and then the top of your head. 

“Ready for that drink?" Rafael smirked at you. 

 The hotel bar had closed not long after you got there, so you and Rafael decided to go halves in a bottle of wine and head back up to his room. The room was nice but plain. It only had a bed and TV cabinet with a small fridge.  

 "Get comfortable Y/N" Rafael nodded towards the bed as he poured 2 glasses of wine.  

 You placed your bag down on the floor and then sat on the bed to pull your boots off, moving yourself to sit with your back resting on the head board your legs stretched out in front of you. You watched as Rafael's placed down the bottle, shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes. He picked up the two glasses walking over handing them to you while he got on the bed next to you and got comfortable. He reached for his glass, your hair stood on end as goose bumps covered your body when his finger tips brushed your hand, 

 "Thanks for coming tonight" Rafael smiled at you. 

 "I'm glad you asked me, it was nice to catch up" The room fell silent for a long moment "Are you glad your back?" You adjusted yourself so you could face him more. 

 "For the most part" he took a sip of wine. 

 "I' am glad your back" you bowed your head so he couldn't see your red cheeks and Rafael patted your knee. 

 "What's been happening?" Rafael smiled at you. 

 "I mean not much with me. Between helping Amanda with Jesse now she has Billie, getting to know Kat and catching up with Sonny when he isn't snowed under and work, doesn't leave room for much else. What about you?" You sipped a mouth full of wine. 

 "Work, moving back, seeing my Mother and trying to find a place" 

 It wasn't long after that another bottle of wine arrived that Rafael had ordered and you were on the last glass of that bottle, drinking water between each glass not wanting to get too carried away and embarrass yourself, 

 "What's it like Carisi being ADA?" Rafael sat his empty glass on the bedside table turning back to face you on his side. 

 "He's good. He doesn't handle the stress as well as you did, but he is doing an amazing job. I miss him as my partner though, but I wouldn’t trade Kat she has been amazing" 

 "So seems like life went on after I left" Rafael frowned. 

 "What else were we meant to do Rafael, no one wanted you to go- but it doesn't matter now your back" you drunk down the rest of your wine and turned to sit that on the bedside table next to you. 

 "No one wanted me to go or you didn't want me to go" Rafael said with a husky voice before clearing this throat. 

 "Well both, I mean you were important to me- to us. We were like a family and then you disappeared, it was hard adjusting to the loss of you."  

 Rafael didn't say anything, he moved to lay down with his fingers intertwined resting on his stomach looking up at the roof, you didn't feel shy after the drinks you had, and so you laid down next to him on your side looking at his frowning face. Your eyes scanned down his salt and pepper hair and you had to fight yourself not to reach over and run your fingers through it, 

 "Did I say something wrong?" You whispered.  

 Rafael didn't answer straight away "No-Come here" Rafael moved his arm inviting you to lay on his chest, your arm laying across his middle. His bearded chin resting on your forehead, 

 "Do you understand why I left"  

 "Yes and no-But yes" Rafael chuckled at you. 

Rafael's hand moved to your chin titling your head back to look up into his eyes, 

 "I missed you Y/N" his stare was intense,  

 "I missed you too" you squeaked out. 

 "Have you been with anyone else since I left?" 

 Your cheeks went bright red not just from the question, but from his stare and how he was rubbing your jaw with his thumb. Rafael rolled over onto his side, his nose almost touching on yours. You gasped when you felt how hard Rafael was poking into your thigh, 

 "Have you been with anyone else since I left" Rafael repeated his question, hand now pushing up your jumper running it up and down your back. 

 "N-no, not since that night with you" you whimpered feeling his breath and beard so close to your face. 

 "Why?" 

 "I told you I've been busy, time got away" 

 "That's a lie" Rafael's lips were almost on yours. 

 "Have you?" You challenged him. 

 "No, time got away" he rolled his hips into your thigh "I have never forgotten the feeling of your hand around my cock" 

 Your hand moved down between your bodies reaching Rafael's bulge in his pants and you started to rub it. Rafael's lips met yours for a slow soft kiss that soon became deep and rough. Rafael ran the hand that was running down your back into the waist of your tights and panties, squeezing your ass with his big hand. Moaning into his mouth.  

You made quick work of undoing his belt buckle, button and zipper, reaching into his boxers pulling out his hard length. Rafael pulled back from your mouth grunting thrusting his hips into your hand. Rafael moved his hand form your ass around to your core cupping it, the palm of his hand pressing into your pearl your wetness coating his hand. You ran your hand up and down up and down Rafael, his pre-cum spreading over your hand, twisting your wrist every so often,

 “It’s better than I remember” Rafael’s lips crashing on yours his tongue darting into your mouth, his hips rolling into your hand.

 “Is it just like you remembered?” you purred, as Rafael pushed a finger into you, then another his thumb rolling your clit. You bit your lip.

 Rafael’s fingers were prodding into you fast, his thumb rolling your swollen pearl feverishly, and your pace on Rafael speed up. You groaned into his mouth, tightening around his fingers while your climax peaked and rushed through you. Your grip on Rafael tightened as you twisted your wrist and he pulled away from your lips, a load grunt along with your name leaving his mouth as he came on your hand and tights.

 You both laid there, hearts pumping hard in your chests breathing rapidly staring into each other eyes. Rafael peaked you on the lips pulling his hand out of your tights moving from the bed to go and clean himself up. You fixed yourself up and stood up off the bed looking to see that your jumper covered where Rafael had come on your tights. Rafael walked out of the bathroom fixed up, his face and beard wet from where he splashed water on it,

“You can use the bathroom now” Rafael walked over to you putting his hands on your hips pecking your lips you nodded and walked in to wash up.

 When you came out Rafael was sitting on the bed leaning his elbows on his thighs,

 “You ok? I can leave if you want me too”

 Rafael looked up at you extending his hand grabbing yours, pulling you to sit down on his lap. One arm wrapping around your waist the other hand resting on your upper thigh holding you close.

 “Why would you think I wanted you to leave?” Rafael lent forward kissing your neck, his beard running over your neck and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I- just saying” you bit you bottom lip.

 “Y/N I just got you back. And besides, next time I won’t be coming in your hand, me entiendes?”

 Tags: @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @dianilaws​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @averyhotchner​

[gkingoffez]

2020 RvB Valentines Exchange uwu

@rvbgiftexchange

My partner was MentalMaterial but I think they’ve changed their name to @linklebard ?

Anyway, here’s ur Tuckington mutual pining bed sharing as requested. Enjoy!

Words: 1833

Pairing: Tuckington

~~~

Tucker was fucked. He had to be- fucked in the head or the heart or the mostly healed stab wound in his side from that fucker Felix. Something had to be wrong, despite the fortified walls of Armonia around him, the Chorus truce, the energy sword in his bag and especially the ex-Freelancer standing beside him in the confined corridor who he hadn’t expected to be there.

“I’m sorry, sirs!” squeaked the young woman in front of them, a civilian wearing a military lanyard, pulling at her frazzled hair with one hand and frantically scrolling on her data-pad with the other. “There must have been a glitch in the program- you should have been assigned your own private rooms. I’m so sorry, our equipment is so outdated and it does stuff like this sometimes-”

“Please stop apologising, it’s not your fault,” Wash insisted gently. “We understand that this was just a mistake, but we’re tired and just want to go to bed?”

“Are you sure there’s no more spare rooms on this floor? A secret penthouse with a jacuzzi maybe? I’ll take it if there is.” asked Tucker.

The woman shook her head, frowning and tapping away. “I’m sor- I mean, no, not here, in fact there’s nothing else on this floor. “This hotel was only converted into officer accommodation a few days ago, and Locus was confirmed to have stayed here while in the city,” she explained.

“There are empty rooms further along that way, but we haven’t had time to do the same level of security sweeps on them.”

The woman gestured at the plain black door behind her, completely identical to the myriad of other ones lining the narrow corridor.

“This room does have a queen bed, sirs. The easiest solution might be that you can share it for the night and one of you can move tomorrow? I know it’s not ideal, but it’s better than a possible security risk.”

“What?” spluttered Tucker. “Why aren’t there enough rooms? And What happened to all of us getting private-?”

“Thank you, that’ll do us fine for tonight,” interjected Wash loudly, glaring at him. “We don’t want to cause too much fuss this late in the evening, and definitely don’t want to stay somewhere that’s not secure. Don’t you agree, Captain Tucker.”

Tucker gaped, words escaping him under Wash’s gaze.

He was fucked. Because once the adrenaline had worn off discovering a manufactured civil war, transmitting that info globally, being betrayed and stabbed by Felix, confronting Hargrove and whatever else happened in the less than a week since he’d snuck off the New Republic base, Tucker suddenly had time and space for… thoughts.

Thoughts like how much he’d truly missed the man standing beside him.

Wash, who’d been a hardass in the canyon like he was being fucking paid for it, who’d kept them all fed and alive and together, and then he’d gone and done the heroic sacrifice play, like an idiot, and suddenly he was gone. It felt like all Tucker had thought about for the last several months was whether Wash was okay, whether he was in pain or alone or dead. At points he’d almost wished they’d swapped places, that he was taking the (in hindsight, non-existent) punishment from the Federal Army, and Wash was the one training the Lieutenants.

Then out of the blue, Wash was back. Wash was fine. Everyone was fine, and like a circle, the whirlwind of betrayal, civil war, stabbing yada-yada unfolded. Tucker had only just caught his breath again and was looking forward to actually relaxing for once, only to end up in this corridor, standing awkwardly in front of a room they’d both been assigned to.

Wash was staring pointedly at him with those stupid clear blue eyes that made Tucker’s heart jump, and it was clear something must have been wrong, because that wasn’t right. It was physical and mental exhaustion, not love. He wasn’t some hormonal teenager, he was a grown man who wanted to go to fucking bed and not have to deal with his fucking feelings.

“Yeah, whatever, let’s just go then,” Tucker said offhandedly, adjusting his sack over his shoulder and stomping into the room without another word.

It was small but glamourous compared to normal military quarters- the hiss of the sliding door muffled against thick looking carpet, one door presumably leading to a bathroom, a single kitchen cabinet with a sink and a lowboy with a television mounted to the wall above it.

The bed took up the bulk of the space in the far end of the room. Behind it hung thick mustard coloured curtains, although Tucker knew even without having to move them that they’d been covered barred with a bullet proof covering as part of the security sweep. What was the point of being a heroes of Chorus, after all, if a well-placed sniper could take them out through a hotel window?

“Home sweet home, I guess,” Tucker shrugged, ignoring his jumping heart as he unceremoniously dumped his stuff on the ground near the kitchen space.

“Thank you for stopping to help us. We’ll be fine.” Wash was saying as he backed into the room. “Good night.”

“Good night sirs!” the woman said, “And again, I’m so-!”

The door hissed shut, Wash’s hand on the button.

“What the fuck, dude,” cried Tucker, rounding on him. “You didn’t have to immediately say yes. I could have pawned Caboose onto someone else and taken his room or something.”

“Oh don’t bother Caboose, he’s probably already asleep and you’ll never wake him. It’s late. All we need is a bed and everything will be else sorted in the morning. One night in the same bed won’t kill us.”

Wash crossed the room and carefully deposited his own knapsack on the lowboy.

“Besides, I wanted us to stay together a little bit longer. To be safe, you know,” he added quietly, glancing Tucker’s way.

Now, of course, Tucker’s eyes had also joined the ‘fucked party’. Was it a trick of the LED lights, or was that a blush on Wash’s cheeks? There was no way to double check, as Wash quickly turned his back on him.

Tucker crossed his arms haughtily, huffing and shaking his head to reset it.“Whatever. I’ll take the right side.”

“Fine by me,” replied Wash, unzipping his bag and rustling around in it, still turned away. “I’m going to change in the bathroom. Oh, and Tucker?”

“Yes?”

“I swear to god if you sleep naked, I’m going to suffocate you with a pillow.”

“Not if I suffocate you first, asshole.”

Maybe ten minutes of bathroom time, brushing teeth and other general night activities later (Tucker was fully clothed in loose borrowed sweats), they were both lying in bed back to back in the queen bed.

“Well,” said Wash. “Good night.”

“Yeah, night.”

As soon as the light turned off, Tucker’s brain switched on like a fucking Christmas tree.

He was not in love with Wash. Love was for girls and people who hadn’t spent literal years on the shittiest military posting ever, then got knocked up, then spent years in the desert, then got dragged on a mission to kill the Freelancer Director, then crashed landed on a planet- well, anyone would get the point. Sure, he acted like a stud and a lady’s man, but truthfully, it had been a long, long time since he’d really loved anyone like that.

Wash had been a fucking Freelancer. Caboose and the Reds talked about him like he was the most capable, badass guy around (barring the time he’d apparently gone evil and shot Donut, of course). Not to mention, he was kinda hot. Sandy hair with streaks of grey, blue eyes, even the criss-cross of scars across his pale skin did things for Tucker. Like he was this put-together, experienced and handsome man next to Tucker’s immaturity and recklessness.

The sheets were feeling too tight and stuffy for his brain, and the slow pattern of Wash’s breathing next to him was not helping. He flipped over onto his back, pulling and rearranging them, staring up at the shadowed ceiling.

“Hey Wash, you asleep yet?” he asked quietly

There was a beat.

“If I was, how would you expect me to answer that?” came the annoyed reply

“I dunno. Snoring?”

Wash snorted. “Just go to sleep, Tucker.”

They were in the same bed. They were in the same bed. Wash was inches away, the kind of distance where Tucker could touch him and then easily brush it off as an accident of movement. Wash’s hand was right there, he’d only need to reach- but no. He couldn’t do that, it wasn’t right.

When Caboose first suggested putting the ex-Freelancer in Church’s empty armour, it hadn’t really mattered to Tucker that much. He was just a guy who’d been an asshole but switched sides in time to help them take out the Meta, may as help him not go back to jail after all. Months in the crash had changed that, and all that time of training and bickering and surviving together had made them friends. He’d bitched and bitched and then watchedWash sacrifice himself as a rockfall separated them had been devastating, throwing into perspective just how goddamn much he cared about all of them despite the fact that they were a bunch of Red and Blue idiots.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder or however the shit went. And Tucker had spent months wishing Wash was ok, wishing he was there, wishing a lot of things.

Maybe he had fallen in love with the man in that time. Maybe it wasn’t as fucked up as he was making it out to be, he’d always been pretty dramatic, after all. Dudes fell in love with dudes all the time, especially when they’d been through a lot together.

Oh for fuck’s sake, none of this matters! There’s no way in hell that he likes me too. Just go to sleep, idiot.

Tomorrow, Tucker could wake up and blame it all on stress, exhaustion and the computer system that had fucked up room assignments. For that moment, however, he felt himself drift off, eyelids heavy and breath evening out.

They had work to do tomorrow rebuilding Chorus and tracking down mercenaries, and the more sleep he got, the better.

The last thing he registered that night was the vibration and rustling sound of Wash twisting in place. However, he must have dreamed about the gentle, tender touch he felt on his face as he was just on the precipice of sleep.

That couldn’t be right.

~~~

A snapshot of the future- tangled limbs in a queen bed, dark on pale and scattered scars. A data-pad hanging limply in a man’s hand, the other gazing at him with an adoring expression. The first glances at the rapture in his lover’s face, and snorts.

“You’re fucked,” he says, jokingly.

“No, you fucked me,” replies Tucker. They laugh.

~~~

Ya’ll let me tell you about the absolute stress rollercoaster I’ve had these past few months. So first up, I completely forgot I’d signed up for this exchange, and was surprised when I got the message. Then I proceeded to have a family death, my birthday and the stress of having to search for a new place to live and start packing up my stuff, all while working my shitty full time job and being exhausted from it.

So to my exchange partner, I’m sorry for not reaching out at all, but my anxiety levels are pretty high these days. This was written pretty quickly, at the last minute and after not writing for probably a year, but I hope you enjoy.

I might have another editing run through it before posting elsewhere but it’s done somewhat on time so I’m happy (Valentine’s was actually yesterday for me and I have to leave for work in like five minutes.)

Anyway, happy love and bed sharing and mutual pining guys. Love ya.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, kelskels95!

Happy Birthday, @kelskels95​! We hope you’ve got a wonderful day planned, with a delicious cake to look forward to at the end! To start your party off right, the lovely @endlessnightlock​ has written a story just for you!

This fic is part two of something I wrote for Everlarkbirthdaygifts a few months ago- you can find a link to that story here; this part is based on the 1952 John Wayne/Maureen O’Hara movie The Quiet Man, which is set in Ireland during the 1920s.

John Wayne plays a disgraced former boxer who moves to his family’s homeland for peace after accidentally killing a man in the ring. Maureen O’Hara is his tempestuous love interest. It’s a fun, beautiful, very romantic, and funny (she is a real hothead in the film, and they have great on-screen chemistry) movie that I highly recommend. 

I hope you enjoy this little homage to The Quiet Man.

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

“Ah-ah-ah,” Haymitch stops me in my tracks when he glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. The village drunk is certainly the laughing stock of this little sheep-farming bit of countryside where I’ve been living for the last six months, so I wait, fully expecting him to crack a joke and cut the tension suddenly formed between us. 

I wait, and Haymitch waits. He doesn’t smile- instead, he stares me down as if I were a thief flinching his best white liquor from his cabinet in the middle of the night and not a man in the middle of courting a young lady, trying to lift her down from the buggy.

I guess even Haymitch takes some responsibilities seriously. I just wished for my own sake it wasn’t this particular responsibility. The confounding traditions these people have are outrageous enough on their own without his overbearing attitude. Back in the States, a guy could just pull up to a girl’s house, honk the horn, and wait for her to run out and meet him. 

A fella wouldn’t be forced to sit on opposite facing seats in this “courting buggy,” driven around the countryside by the town drunk, unable to carry on any real conversation with his girl.

Not that I would ever honk for a girl, at least not for Katniss Everdeen, anyway. She is small and beautiful and fiery and has the loveliest grey eyes I’ve ever seen. I might have enough sense not to pull up to her door and honk my horn (I’d have to have a car in this country to do such a thing, anyway), but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to spend a little time alone with her, now that I’m officially seeing her.

Damn it all; there is an honest to God twinkle in Haymitch’s eyes when he addresses me again, but only after I’ve dropped my hands away from Katniss’s waist and stepped away from her. “Mr. Mellark-”

“My name is Peeta if you please. My father was Mr. Mellark,” I remind Haymitch, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at him. I’m much bigger and stronger than him (I’m bigger and stronger than most men actually, or I wouldn’t have had the boxing career I left behind in the States), but that doesn’t deter him the least.

“Ms. Everdeen is a fine, healthy girl,” he continues, leaning back in his seat and waving his hands at us, his expression knowing, “and she is quite able to climb out of the buggy by herself. So there’ll be no need for any patty-fingers there, Mr. Mellark.”

I frown up at Haymitch and his sly words. There were no, as he implied, patty-fingers involved. I was simply grasping Katniss’s waist to help her get down from her side of the buggy. I know she is an excellent climber; I did just dislodge her hair and hat from a tall tree limb last week in the middle of a disastrous rescue of her sister’s cat. 

All three of us are aware that we are doing today is simply an exercise in etiquette. 

Katniss and I have spent this evening, our first official “courting” outing, chauffeured down the local countryside’s winding roads. It’s so beautiful in spring’s palates of greens- 

(I love the beauty of this land. I don’t think I will ever tire of it- I’ve never seen such shades of green all my life. The land wasn’t like this back home in Chicago, but of course, when you grow up in an apartment above the family bakery, how is a fella to know what nature looks like? Sunday trips for a stroll around the park didn’t quite cut the mustard, either. 

Here, the surroundings are a feast for the eyes. Everything is colored in varying shades of green, rolling on for miles and miles: the trees, the pastures, the pretty dress that Katniss is wearing today. It goes so smartly with her straw hat, which, I can’t help but notice, is the same one I had to help her dislodge from a tree branch just last Sunday. This place is serene and peaceful, exactly why I chose to come back to my ancestral home after leaving the boxing ring behind.)

- past neighbor’s farms, and stone fences as far as the eye could see. In his given role as one of the senior men (and the local drunk) in the village, Haymitch has driven Katniss and myself around. We are not to be alone together now that I am courting her- even though she has visited many times at my farm, alone, without any threat of ruination. The “courting” title is the only difference in any of it; I’ve wanted to kiss Katniss’s pert little mouth since the first time I laid eyes on her.

“Patty fingers?” I ask indignantly, although I do drop my hands from Katniss’s waist. A scowl forms on her lovely face, wrinkling her nose adorably.

“Quit your fussin’, boy. Now what I’m doing here, well, this is a good stretch of the road leading into town. I’ll let you do about a mile or so on your own; give you a chance to see how you feel walking together. I’ll be right behind you, so no funny business,” he directs. I move to put my hand on the small of Katniss’s back but am quickly tut-tutted by Haymitch. “Patty fingers!”

Katniss’s and my eyes meet, and she rolls her eyes at Haymitch’s evident enthusiasm for his task. 

Ha- see if I’m eager to buy him another pint at the pub!

Instead of speaking, we walk close beside each other, not touching- the only sound the click of her low heels on the packed-dirt road. Once there is some distance between us and the buggy, I hear Haymitch make a clicking sound at the horses and snap the reins, and soon he is moving down the road, following us again. 

At least this time, Haymitch is keeping a little distance- I know he is giving us some room to speak with each other, but I cannot think of a single thing to say to Katniss with an audience. We continue in silence, neither of us anxious to speak, which is unusual because I am quite the talker. Katniss, while not overly verbose, is rarely short of things to remark upon when she is alone with me.

Finally, I open my mouth. “You look lovely today, Katniss,” I say, admiring her because it is the truth, and you can never go wrong telling your girl she is lovely to you.

Her eyes skate over my frame quickly before she faces forward again. “Is that your best suit you’re wearing today, Peeta Mellark?” she asks, a grin forming at the corner of her mouth.

I smile at my full name crossing her lips; it reminds me of a prim schoolmistress- I like it very much. “Yes, it is my best suit, Katniss Everdeen,” I answer in kind. “Do I pass muster?”

Katniss’s eyes slide to the side; I catch her watching me. “It does look quite fine on you,” she says softly, glancing forward again.

I hear the buggy come to a halt behind us as Haymitch stops to speak to the vicar, so we stop in the road as well. Katniss faces me, and when our eyes lock, I have an overwhelming desire to be alone with her, talk with her, make her laugh, and maybe earn a chaste kiss. I want to know everything there is to know about Katniss Everdeen, and I cannot do any of those things with our chaperone in tow. 

Although I would never say time spent with her is a waste, I am mourning the freedom of those evenings she would visit me at my farm, when we were alone to talk, even if it was only in the manner that friends do.

I sigh.

Katniss shrugs her shoulders. “This is quite ridiculous, isn’t it?” she bites back a smile. I think she’s growing as tired of the proprieties as I am.

“It is.” I agree. Neither Katniss nor I are youths needing looking after. I just passed my 26th birthday, and she is only a year younger than I am. Considering what I’ve been through in those short years, it’s been much longer than one would think since I’ve felt like a boy.

I catch sight of something then- a two-seater bicycle, leaning against the side of the pub, and it gives me an idea. “Can you ride?” I ask, nodding discreetly at the tandem. Katniss glances over her shoulder then, and so do I. 

Haymitch remains in conversation with the vicar.

In unison, Katniss and I take off in a dead sprint for the tandem. Reaching it, I hop on the back of the two-seater bicycle, and she climbs onto the seat in front of me. Moments later, the two of us are riding the bike through the village on our escape route out of town, all to the sounds of Haymitch bellering indiscernibly behind us.