#it's been sitting on my shelf for at least a year and i spent all of my holiday break playing it

[hotnbloodied]

Hiiii can I request popular yandere classmate x oblivious reader, oh and can it be smut pleassee?

Thanks for your ask! I started randomly naming all my yanderes even if they are all one shots, I don't know if I want to keep it though. We'll see. This one almost fucking tore me to shreds, I might need a break after this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Popular Boy X Oblivious Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, yandere tendencies, reader is kind of silly here. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

It was the first group project of the year! You and three other people were going to be randomly assigned together to work on a research project about something or another. The first two seemed like nice people but the third was Atticus, your friends have talked about him before. Wasn’t he popular or something? When the group met face to face you finally understood why, he was funny, charismatic and quite the looker. Your group decided to meet up in the library and you thanked your lucky stars that it seemed everyone was working well with each other. The other two in the group knew each other and were friends so when one of them had to leave later on in the day the other one did so as well leaving you and Atticus the only ones in the group still in the library.

Without the other two here, people were more inclined to come by to say hi to Atticus causing him to get distracted, you didn’t care much honestly, you had work to do after all. You overheard a couple of the people who came to talk to Atticus talk about some sort of group karaoke and that he should join them. “Sorry guys, I’m still with my group partner,” he apologized. You looked up, “it’s all good, this is just the first day after all.” Atticus looked at you incredulously. “See? Even your groupmate thinks it’s fine. Join us, Atticus, the girls are asking for you.” Internally he was annoyed, he already said no and the least his groupmate could do was back him up. Were you really that stupid? Eventually though, he was able to convince them to leave him alone. But when he turned expecting to see you still sitting there you were gone. Your stuff was still here so he assumed you went to get more material to research.

Scanning over the library he spots you eventually, struggling to reach for a book on a higher shelf. He sighs and starts walking over to assist but it turns into a run when he notices that you’re about to get toppled by said books. He covers you from getting hurt and curses at himself because having books fall on him fucking hurts. “What are you doing?” He says sternly, “if you can’t reach something ask for help.” He gasps, some of his true self leaked out, his image of a prince type is over. “Dang I’m sorry, you’re right. No sense in getting myself hurt, thanks! By the way, are you okay?” Suddenly, his heart raced, he didn’t know why. It might have been the way you looked under him currently, or it might have been the way you accept his rough tone with you, but either way he was going to explore it, explore you.

The project goes by smoothly, you still hang out with Atticus since the two of you exchanged numbers due to the project. You found it really weird though, each time you hung out with him and his friends, his friends were never able to make it. You hope you’re not scaring them away. Little did you know that if anyone is scaring people away it’s Atticus. The more time he spent with you was like heaven but also hell. He loved spending time and learning new things about you but, fuck, why were you not picking up any of the hints and flirty signs he was giving you?! Like today when it was just the two of you again, you two were at the movies and he tried to get an arm over your shoulder. “Oh my! Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” And wrapped him up in your jacket! Sure, being able to smell your scent was nice but that’s not what he wanted! To rub salt on the wound too, after the movies his friends spotted him and invited you two to join them and you ACCEPTED! “Oh sorry, were you guys on a date?” One of his friends asked. “Oh no, we’re just chilling! We’d love to join you!” You responded. He almost choked up blood.

He went to his last resort and feigned sickness. Worry etched your face and you apologized as you helped carry him away. He convinced you to go to his place since it was nearby and was a bit hurt that you agreed so readily, you were going to be in a private space with him after all. Arriving at his place you helped him inside, all the way to his room. As you wished him better and got up to leave he tugged your arm. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Hm? What’s up, need something?” He hugs you, “I… I need you.” Not sure what he meant, but feeling like he needed this, you hugged him and both of you stayed like that for a while. That was, until his lower half decided to act up. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” You ask, almost too innocently. His face flushed, “help with this…?” “Of course, a boner is a natural part of your body, you know. Though I also heard that boners don’t happen just because someone is horny though…are you horny?” Atticus felt the blood rush to his head, all he could do was meekly nod.

You were sucking on his member, he could tell that you’ve done something like this before but maybe not too often due to the slight hesitation you exhibited. Regardless though he never imagined you would have been so willing to do this for him, should he have asked sooner? The sight of your mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock, he wasn’t the type that was quick to cum but just because it was you doing this act on him he felt close. He couldn’t have that, so he grabbed your shoulder and urged you on to his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs. You did as he told, he gulped, he wanted this for how long now? It felt surreal that this was real. He couldn’t help but use his hands to explore your body, groping, touching, feeling your warmth. Your breathing quickened, you weren’t sure why he was taking so long, his exploration of your body started making you feel needy. You were close to telling him to hurry but let out a yelp when he started to suck and lick on your chest. He worked his way down to your lower area.

“What are you doing? Is all this necessary?” You ask him. “Please,” he begged, “I just need this, won’t you let me?” You whimpered, this is good and all but all this teasing is something you aren’t used to. He sucked and tongue prodded you for a while, you said that you would let him do what he wanted but you wanted to release soon and his tongue wasn’t doing that for you. “Hey, uh– hnn!!” Before you could say anything more he inserted a finger then two into you, rhythmically finger fucking you. Making sure to brush against your g spot each time. You were so close and Atticus knew it, so he stopped making you whine even louder. “Why did you stop?” “Grind on my dick,” he ordered. Sluggishly you got up and did as he was told. “Don’t even try to insert before I allow you to.” So you rubbed your sensitive area against him, slow at first but even you can grow impatient and you’ve been that for a while. Your wetness making a mess and with your bodies grinding against each other a squelching sound reverberated through the room along with the heavy panting and moaning. “Soon please?” You begged. Atticus needed you badly as well so he pushed you down on the bed again and aligned himself before pushing in causing you to scream out from the intrusion. He jackhammered you silly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted like a mantra, “I need you so bad.” What followed was one of the hardest orgasms you ever had. He unsheathed from you and quickly went to your face marking your face all over with his seed.

After a couple of beats you asked, “hey, uh, can I have some napkins?” “S-sorry,” he scrambled to his drawer and took out a box of tissues. After you cleaned yourself up you asked, “I’d like to borrow your bathroom.” He told you that it was down the hall. You took your clothes and left his room, when you came back you thanked him. “Well that was fun! I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later alright?” And left. He was shocked, how fucking clueless can you be?? He was going to make sure you understood that you were his now and he was going to move heaven and hell to make sure that happens, his darling.

[snzhrchy]

Oh my god, I thought about this at school, okok so can I request a fanfic about Ajax having a crush on the reader (She/her if u can!) and his little snakes constantly trying to be affectionate with her and sneaking outside his little hat to try and touch you???? Thank you!

— ☆ THE SNAKES !

ajax petropolus x fem!reader

synopsis; Gorgons are usually told to keep their distance from the rest of the outcasts but Ajax and his snakes are a little too fond of you. notes; THIS WAS SOO FUN TO WRITE AND THE CONCEPT WAS CUTE TOO OMG taglist; lmk if u wanna be on it !!

The first time you encountered Ajax's snakes acting oddly around you was when the both of you were studying for your upcoming exam. When this happened, neither of you were aware of each other's feelings towards one another and didn't think too much of it:

Usually, Nevermore's library is rather quiet with no signs of life but not today. Today, the library had been filled with dozens of students trying to cram the entire biology syllabus in less than an hour.

Exam season was upon the students of Nevermore and they were all rest-less, including you and Ajax.

You both were near the end of the library, sitting across from one another as you both were helping each other revise for your upcoming exam. Yet, none of you could get anything done since there were far too many distractions for the both of you.

'Right so, what are the adaptations of a Dionaea muscipula plant?' you asked Ajax looking up from your deck of flashcards that were strewn all over your textbook.

Ajax remained quiet as he tried to think of his answer to your question while you began to scan your textbook again, re-reading all the material in it.

After a while, you turned to Ajax, again, wanting to ask him the question again but were immediately stopped by Ajax, who cursed and shouted: 'Y/N, close your eyes!'

You quickly shut your eyes tight and for good measure, covered them both with your hands. You really didn't want to turn into stone merely hours before your final exam.

Once the gorgon informed you that it was safe to open to your eyes, you slowly obliged. You saw that he looked rather embarrassed as he had his face covered with both of his hands. 'Sorry. I'm really sorry about that, I don't know what's happening to my snakes right now. Usually, they behave quite well,' he apologised.

You shook your head and reassured him that it wasn't his fault that his snakes attempted to stone you. You didn't think too much of this interaction but little did you know that the reason for this was due to the gorgon's major crush on you.

The second time Ajax's snakes attempted to touch you was during Outreach Day at Uriah's Heep. You both had gotten that shop for volunteering and you were very glad to have been there with a friend:

Outreach Day was probably one of your least favourite days of the school year. Yes, you were going out to Jericho and finally having a change of scenery but the entire concept of volunteering was tedious to you — why were you working at a place when you weren't going to be paid?

However, it wasn't all doom and gloom since your best friend Ajax was volunteering there too!

Most of your time spent at that creepy shack involved you both just quizzically staring at the rows of shelves that were filled with the ( nicely dressed ) roadkill or with cleaning out all the dusty old shelves.

Every now and then, you both would crack jokes but would get immediately shushed by the only clerk present in the store.

While you cleaned out a shelf that was right at the back of the store, you were interrupted Ajax standing a little too close to you as he watched you clean out the shelf.

‘Want some help here? I’m done with my side so—‘ Ajax stopped talking when he noticed that a few of snakes were roaming near your small figure.

All your movements stopped when you felt the weird feeling of scales on your head and neck. Your breath hitched. You were unsure of how to proceed; any wrong movement and you’d be a stone.

‘Ajax?’ You called out. 'Yeah? Sorry, give me a minute...' he said as he began to shove the snakes back into his beanie.

The rest of your day spent with him involved you countlessly reassuring him that the snakes were no big deal while he apologised to you endlessly.

Ajax was terrified of the idea of his snakes ever turning you to stone.

The third ( and last ) time his snakes escaped his beanie to affectionately touch you was during the Rave'N - it was a night you both won't ever forget:

The Rave'N was a rather lively and remarkable evening. It started out rather wonderful as well.

Ajax had come to pick you up at your dorm at around 7. He was already dressed in a white suit - he even had a beanie to match. You'd be lying if you said he didn't look attractive.

The entirety of your evening was spent with the both of you dancing to all the songs, drinking and eating.

As it started to near midnight, the songs started to get slower - perfect for ballroom dancing.

Even though your legs were sore and you felt like you could hardly stand but when Ajax asked you to dance with him one last time, how could you say no?

You both spent the last hours of the night in each other's arms. The entire world around you both was a blur and the only thing you could focus on was Ajax's arms around your body.

When the night ended and everyone was leaving; there were barely any people present except for a few other students and you both.

Ajax and you sat at one of the round tables, doing absolutely nothing - just sitting with one another, enjoying each other's company. It was a comfortable silence, to say the least.

The raspy yet comforting voice of Ajax calling out your name, snapped you out of your thoughts as you turned all your attention to him. You hummed in response, urging him to speak - you were too tired to say a single word.

'I...' he began, 'I had a great time here, with you.' You smiled upon hearing his words, 'me too.'

You both sat in silence again until Ajax began another conversation: 'hey, listen... I don't know how to properly say this but...' he trailed off, it was as if he was trying to form the right words in his mind. 'I really like you - I like you a lot, in fact,' he bluntly said.

Your eyes widened in shock; you couldn't believe your ears - your best friend and crush, Ajax had confessed to you. It was too surreal.

You were unaware of how to properly tell him that you harbored feelings for him as well. So, on impulse, you crashed your lips onto his.

Ajax was taken a back by your action but he kissed you back nonetheless. He'd been wanting to do that for so long.

His hands cupped one of your cheeks while the other travelled down to your waist whereas both of your arms were wrapped around his neck.

Unfortunately, you both pulled apart once Ajax realised that his snakes had escaped, again. He frantically apologised to you on behalf of his snakes while you chuckled.

Atleast now the snakes would attempt to escape a little less.

[firewasabeast]

prompt: buck finds out tommy was a pow

how'd this get so long? I truly do not know.

They were four months into their relationship when Tommy started clearing out half of his closet for Buck. Others might've thought they were moving too fast, but that didn't matter to them. Buck spent most of his free time at Tommy's place anyway, and his lease was up in a month. There was no way either of them wanted to wait another whole year before living together.

So, on a random Saturday, they decided to do it. Clear the closet so Buck could slowly start moving stuff in.

They had invited Eddie over too, possibly under the false pretense of sitting and watching a game, but they needed someone around that would keep them on task. Or, at least keep them from getting distracted with each other's mouths.

“Can someone please tell me how my life became so dull that this is the most exciting thing I've done this past week?” Eddie asked, seated on the bed and folding up a shirt before placing it into the donation box.

“You really wanna go there?” Buck asked.

“No, I do not.”

“Eddie, I've got an extra pair of boxing gloves in here!” Tommy called out from the back of the closet. “They're new. You want them?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I've got like three pairs already.”

He came out and tossed the gloves to Eddie, who looked them over briefly. “Thanks, man!”

“Of course.”

Buck headed back into the closet and reached up for an old cardboard box high on the top shelf. As he lifted it, an item fell out and down to the floor. “Oops,” he breathed out, moving the box to one hand as he bent down to pick the item up.

It was service medal. Buck stared at it for a moment, lets his thumb brush over it. He'd done a lot of research on anything and everything military related, but he could not for the life of him remember what this particular medal was for.

He walked out to the bedroom, where Tommy and Eddie were in the middle of discussing how the team who won karaoke trivia last week definitely cheated and should be investigated, and dropped the box onto the bed. “Not sure what all this is,” he said, the box catching Tommy's attention.

“Oh, that's just army stuff,” he replied, sliding the box toward himself and starting to close it back up.

“This fell out of it.” Buck handed over the medal, noting Tommy's pause before he plucked it from his hand. “What's it for?” He could feel Eddie's eyes on him, could sense a tension in the air, but he couldn't figure out why. Tommy had talked to him about his time in the military before, but he'd never mentioned a medal.

“It's a... a Prisoner of War Medal,” he replied, dropping it into the box. He closed the box and plopped it onto the floor directly between the keep and throw away piles.

“Oh. Is it your grandad's?” One day Buck would learn to read the room before speaking, but today was not that day.

“No. Um, no it's not.” Tommy was still turned away from him, his attention now focused on a pile of old CD's they'd already gone through earlier in the day.

Buck took that all too quiet moment to glance over at Eddie, who was shaking his head and silently telling Buck to let it go.

The dots connected, and Buck felt a pain in his chest he hadn't felt since he got struck by lightning. This might've been worse actually, because he didn't technically remember the feeling of being struck by lightning.

“Lunch!” He exclaimed, a bit too brightly, but desperate to move on so he didn't cause unwanted pain. “I should make lunch.”

Buck excused himself from the room and headed into the kitchen, pausing to take a few deep breaths and calm his pounding heart. He could hear the low rumblings of Tommy and Eddie talking in the bedroom, but made no effort to listen to what they were saying.

He knew it wasn't for him to hear anyway.

*****

Twenty-seven hours later, Buck and Eddie were starting a shift. Buck lasted all of half an hour before sitting down across from Eddie on the couch and staring at him as he read a magazine.

“Can I help you with something, Buck?” Eddie asked, keeping his eyes on the magazine.

“You knew about it, didn't you?”

“Knew about what?”

Buck reached over and grabbed the magazine, yanking it from Eddie's lap and tossing it onto the table.

“That could've given me a paper cut!” Eddie whined.

“Eddie, this is serious.”

Eddie sighed. “You know my rule Buck. I don't discuss Tommy's business with you, I don't discuss your business with him. It's how we all live in peace.”

“I'm not asking you to discuss it, I- I'm just asking if you knew.”

There's a pause. Eddie stared at Buck, Buck stared back. They might as well have been having a contest; whoever blinked first won.

Eddie was the one to give in, rolling his eyes at Buck's stubbornness. “Yes, I knew.”

Buck huffed out a humorless laugh. “Great. Great, you know my boyfriend better than I do.”

“Buck, come on-”

“No, it's true! I'm- I'm not being an ass, it's just true. He's never mentioned that to me before. I've asked him all about his military career and I thought he'd told me everything, but i- it turns out he gave me a censored version.”

“It's not like that, Buck,” Eddie replied. “Listen, it was not long after Christopher left, Tommy invited me over for some Muay Thai. I thought he was doing it as a favor, so I could get all my aggression out, but it seemed it was more for him that day. I asked what was up and I guess it was the anniversary of the day he was captured. Don't be mad at him for this, man.”

Buck's face went from concerned to puzzled. “I'm not mad. I- I'm worried. Listen, I'm glad he has you to talk to, and I know I don't... get it like you do, but I'd like to know he trusts me with the tough stuff too. I don't want to move in with a guy who thinks he has to hide part of his life from me.”

“That's not it, Buck. It was literally just a right place right time thing. You had plans with Maddie that day, and apparently it's not something he ever talks about to anyone outside of therapy. It has nothing to do with you.” Eddie spoke the final sentence pointedly, making sure Buck comprehended the words.

Buck nodded. He did understand, and he really wasn't mad.

He hated that Tommy had gone through something so awful. Hated that he'd been going through it alone for all these years, however long it had been.

The worry lingered though.

Because if Tommy didn't tell him this, was there a possibility he'd been telling him revised versions of everything in his life?

Did he really know him at all?

*****

Two days passed before they got to see each other again. Buck was already at Tommy's place, settled into the sofa and reading a book on Egyptology when Tommy got home.

“Hey, hun,” Tommy greeted with a smile. He bent down, one hand on the back of the couch to hold him up, the other hand on Buck's cheek as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Hi,” Buck replied with the soft grin he always got after one of Tommy's kisses. “How was work?”

“Surprisingly calm.”

“Not a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Tommy agreed.

Buck returned his attention to his book as Tommy sat across from him. His eyes drifted toward the TV but he made no effort to reach for the remote and turn it on.

“Evan?”

“Hm?”

Tommy reached out and held onto the edge of Buck's book. “Can I?”

Buck eyed him, confused, but closed the book and let him take it. Once Tommy had set it on the coffee table, he returned his attention to his boyfriend.

He stared at him, mouth pursed, and each second that ticked by worried Buck a little more.

“Are you-”

“It was 2004,” Tommy started, “I was twenty, in Afghanistan. We were on a recon mission, our chopper got shot down.”

“Tommy, you don't have to...”

His voice trailed off as Tommy held out his hand for Buck to take. Tommy squeezed it, then continued, “It happened so fast, we didn't have much time to think let alone fight back. There were four of us. We all survived the crash somehow, but... anyway, I got shot in the thigh, and all the other guys were shot too. Weirdly, it's the only injury I've gotten that didn't leave a scar. We were blindfolded, had these sacks put over our heads, tied up, and thrown into the back of a truck.”

“My God.” The words slipped out without Buck even realizing. The thought of Tommy, not even old enough to legally drink, going through something like that was horrifying.

“I don't-” Tommy cleared his throat, and Buck could feel his hand starting to get clammy. “We were there for forty-three days. I didn't know that until we were rescued, had no idea when it was day and when it was night.” Tommy shifted, dropping Buck's hand so he could move around and try to get more comfortable. “Evan, I don't talk about it with anyone outside of therapy. Even my therapist doesn't know everything, and I- I just try not to dwell on it.”

Buck nodded. “I understand.”

“And I'm sure you know Eddie knows.”

“I figured it out,” Buck replied simply.

Tommy let out a deep breath, his eyes searching Buck like he was trying to read his mind. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I know I should have said something.”

“No,” Buck assured him. “No, that's- I'm not mad about it or anything. That's a horrible thing you went through and I completely understand not wanting to get into it.”

Tommy eyed him carefully. "Evan."

Buck let out a groan. “This is gonna sound really stupid.”

“If there's one thing you're not, Evan, it's stupid.”

“I- I'm endlessly grateful you have someone like Eddie you can talk to,” Buck started. “Seriously, I get that you need someone who can understand. Eddie was in the army, he gets it in a way I never will.”

“But?”

Buck pointed at Tommy. “See, this is the stupid part. I did feel jealous, at first. That he knew a part of you that I didn't. And it made me worry that there might be other things I don't know, or pieces of you that you kept hidden from me to protect me, or something?”

“Ev-”

“No, I know that's not true. I had like fifty conversations with myself to get there, but I got there,” he added with a laugh.

“Did he tell you why I told him? Or what I told him?”

“He briefly mentioned a Muay Thai session when I went to him with questions. He's apparently very strict on not being a go-between for us, which is healthy I guess. It wasn't his place to tell me anyway.”

“Right.”

Buck moved closer to Tommy. “I'm not saying it was yours either, Tommy.”

A deep breath, then Tommy continued. “That day- the anniversary, or whatever- is not a great day for me. Usually I work, it keeps me distracted, but I was off and shockingly no one needed me to take their shift. You had made plans with Maddie, and I was... struggling. I invited Eddie over for a sparring session and I got a little, um, intense with it?”

Buck raised an eyebrow in question.

“There was blood.”

“Seriously?!”

Tommy nodded. “Not much. Cut the lip a bit, but he knew something was up and it came out. I didn't even tell him as much as I just told you. All I said was it was it had been twenty years since I'd been shot and captured. He asked how long I was a prisoner for and I told him. That's it. Then he put down the ice pack I'd given him and we went another round.”

Buck truly was endlessly thankful that Tommy and Eddie had each other. “He's a good friend to have.”

“Yeah, he is. Ev, you know things about me, my life, my family, that I've never shared with anyone before. I have never felt so comfortable with anyone; never was able to let my guard down until you. That- This thing, is something I'm still trying to share with myself. It's been twenty years, but I'm working on it.”

Buck nodded. “Take all the time you need. If you ever do need or want to talk about it though, I'm here. Or Eddie, or Bobby, or literally anyone.”

Tugging on Buck's arm to pull him closer, Tommy turned on the couch, resting so his legs were outstretched, parted just enough for Buck to fit between. He was more thankful every day for the extra wide sofa they'd bought so they could cuddle comfortably on it.

Buck curled into him, head resting on Tommy's chest, arms wrapped around his waist.

“I love you,” he muttered into the fabric of Tommy's shirt.

Tommy planted a kiss on top of Buck's head, running his fingers through his hair. “I love you more.”

[worstjourney]

The Millennials' Polar Expedition

A year ago today (23 Nov 2022), I launched Worst Journey Vol.1 at the Scott Polar Research Institute. This is the text of the speech I gave to the lovely people who turned up to celebrate.

As many of you know, my interest in the Terra Nova Expedition was sparked by Radio 4’s dramatisation of The Worst Journey in the World, now 14 years ago.  The story is an incredible story, and it got its claws into me, but what kept me coming back again and again were the people.  I couldn’t believe anyone so wonderful had ever really existed.  So when I finally succumbed to obsession and started reading all the books, it was the expedition members’ own words which I most cherished.  These were not always easy to come by, though, so plenty of popular histories were consumed as well.  Reading both in tandem, it soon became clear that, while there were some good books out there, there was a lot of sloppy research in the polar echo chamber as well.

I also discovered that no adaptation had attempted to get across the full scope of the expedition.  There has never been a full and fair dramatic retelling, all having been limited by time, budget, or ideology from telling the whole story truthfully.  I was determined that my adaptation would be both complete and accurate, and be as accountable as possible to those precious primary documents and the people who wrote them.

So the years of research began.  I moved to Cambridge to be able to drop in at SPRI and make the most of the archives.  Getting to Antarctica seemed impossible, but I went to New Zealand to get at least that much right, and on the way back stayed with relatives in Alberta, the most Antarctic place I could realistically visit.  I gathered reference for objects wherever I could.  Because Vol.1 takes place mainly on the Terra Nova, which is now a patch of sludge on the seabed off Greenland, I cobbled together a Franken-Nova in my mind, between the Discovery up in Dundee and the Star of India in San Diego.  I spent a week on a Jubilee Sailing Trust ship in order to depict tall-ship sailing correctly.  I’m sure I’ve still got loads of things wrong, but I did all I could, to get as much as I could, right.

But still, everyone I met who had been to Antarctica said, “you can’t understand Antarctica until you’ve been there, and you can’t tell the story without understanding Antarctica; you have to go.”  So I applied to the USAP’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program, with faint hope, as they do “Ahrt” and I draw cartoons.  But I must have blagged a good grant proposal, because a year after applying, I was stepping out of a C-17 onto the Ross Ice Shelf.  The whole trip would have been worth it just to stand there, turn in a circle, and see how all the familiar photographs fit together.  But the USAP’s generosity didn’t stop there, and in the next month I saw Hut Point, Arrival Heights, the Beardmore Glacier (including the moraine on which the Polar Party stopped to “geologise”), and Cape Crozier, and made three visits to the Cape Evans hut.  Three!  On top of the visual reference I got priceless qualitative data.  The hardness of the sound.  The surprising warmth of the sun. The sugary texture of the snow.  The keen edge on a slight breeze.  The way your fingertips and toes can start to go when the rest of you is perfectly warm.  The SHEER INSANITY of Cape Crozier.  The veterans were right – I couldn’t have drawn it without having been there, but now I have, and can, and I am more grateful than I can ever adequately express.  With all these resources laid so copiously at my feet, all I had to do was sit down and draw the darn thing.  Luckily I have some very sound training to back me up on that.

Now, this is all very well for the how of making the book, and, I hope, interesting enough. But why?  Why am I putting so much effort into telling this story, and why now?

Well, it means a lot to me personally.  To begin to understand why, you need to know that I grew up in the 80s and 90s, at the height of individualist, goal-oriented, success-driven, dog-eat-dog, devil-take-the-hindmost neoliberalism.  It was just assumed that humans, when you get right down to it, were basically self-interested jerks, and I saw plenty of them around so I had no reason to question this assumption.  The idea was that if you did everything right, and worked really hard, you could retire at 45 to a yacht in the Bahamas, and if you didn’t retire to a yacht, well, you just hadn’t tried hard enough.  Character, in the sense of rigorous personal virtue, was for schmucks.  What mattered was success.  Even as my politics evolved, I still took it as a given that this was how the world worked, and that was how people generally were – after all, there was no lack of corroborating evidence.  So: I worked really hard.  I single-mindedly pursued my self-interest.  I made sacrifices, and put in the time, and fought my way into my dream job and all the success I could have asked for.

And then I met the Terra Nova guys.

What struck me most about them was that even when everything was going wrong, when their expectations were shattered and they had to face the cruellest reality, they were still kind.  Not backbiting, recriminating, blame-throwing, defensive, or mean, as one would expect – they were lovely to each other, patient, supportive, self-sacrificing; in fact the worse things got, the better they were.  They still treated each other as friends even when it wasn’t in their self-interest, was even contrary to their self-interest.  I didn’t know people could be like that.  But there they were, in plain writing, being thoroughly, bafflingly, decent.  Not just the Polar Party – everyone had to face their own brutal realities at some point, and they all did so with a grace I never thought possible.

It presented a very important question:

When everything goes belly-up, and you’re facing the worst, what sort of person will you be?

Or perhaps more acutely: What sort of person would you rather be with?

It was so contrary to the world I lived in, to the reality I knew – it was a peek into an alternate dimension, populated entirely with lovely, lovely people, who really, genuinely believed that “it’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game,” and behaved accordingly.  It couldn’t be real.  There had to be a deeper, unpleasant truth: that was how the world worked, after all.  I kept digging, expecting to hit bottom at some point, but I only found more gold, all the way down.  How could I not spend my life on this?

Mythology exists to pass on a culture’s values, moral code, and survival information – how to face challenges and prevail.  Scott’s story entered the British mythology, and had staying power, because it exemplified those things so profoundly for the culture that created and received it.  But the culture changed, and there were new values; Scott’s legacy was first inverted and then cast aside.  The new culture needed a new epic hero.  You’d think it would be Amundsen, the epitome of ruthless success, but “Make Plan – Execute Plan – Go Home” has no mythic value, so he didn’t stick.  The hero needed challenges, he needed setbacks, and he needed to win, on our terms.

Shackleton!  Shackleton was a winner!  Shackleton told us what we knew to be true and wanted to hear at epic volume: that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard, you will succeed!  (Especially if you can control the narrative.)  Scott, on the other hand, tells us that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard . . . you may nevertheless die horribly in the snow.  Nobody wants to hear that!  What a downer!  I think it’s no coincidence that Shackleton exploded into popular culture in the late 90s and has dominated it ever since: he is the mythic hero of the zeitgeist. I am always being asked if I’ll be doing Shackleton next.  He has six graphic novels already!  That is plenty!  But people still want to tell and be told his story, because it’s a heroic myth that validates our worldview.

That’s why I am so determined to tell the Scott story, because Scott is who we don’t realise we need right now – and Wilson, and Bowers, and Cherry, and Atch, and all the rest.  The Terra Nova Expedition is the Millennials’ polar expedition.  We’ve worked really hard, we’ve done everything we were supposed to, we made what appeared to be the right decisions at the time, and we’re still losing.  Nothing in the mythology we’ve been fed has prepared us for this.  No amount of positive attitude is going to change it.  We have all the aphorisms in the world, but what we need is an example of how to behave when the chips are down, when the Boss is not sailing into the tempest to rescue us, when the Yelcho is not on the horizon.  When circumstances are beyond your power to change, how do you make the best of your bad situation?  What does that look like? Even if you can’t fix anything, how do you make it better for the people around you – or at the very least, not worse?  Scott tells us: you can be patient, supportive, and humble; see who needs help and offer it; be realistic but don’t give in to despair; and if you’re up against a wall with no hope of rescue, go out in a blaze of kindness.  We learn by imitation: it’s easy to say these things, but to see them in action, in much harder circumstances than we will ever face, is a far greater help.  And to see them exemplified by real, flawed, complicated people like us is better still; they are not fairy-tale ideals, they are achievable. Real people achieved them.

My upbringing in the 80s milieu of selfishness, which set me up to receive the Scott story so gratefully, is hardly unique.  There are millions of us who are hungry for a counter-narrative.  My generation is desperate for demonstrations of caring, whether it’s activism or social justice or government policies that don’t abandon the vulnerable.  We’ve seen selfishness poison the world, and we want an alternative.  The time for competition is past; we must cooperate or perish, but we don’t know how to do it because our mythology is founded on competition.  The Scott story, if told properly, explodes the Just World Fallacy, and liberates us from the lie that has ruled our lives: that you make your own luck.  What happens, happens: what matters is how you respond to it.  My obsession with accuracy is in part to honour the men, and in part because Cherry was the ultimate stickler and he’d give me a hard time if I didn’t, but also because, if I’m telling the story to a new generation, I’m damn well going to make sure we get that much RIGHT.  It’s been really interesting to see, online, how my generation and the next have glommed onto polar exploration narratives, not as thrilling feats of derring-do, but as emotional explorations of found family and cooperative resilience.  We love them because they love each other, and loving each other helps get them through, and we want – we need – to see how that’s done.  It’s time to give them the Terra Nova story, and to tell it fully, fairly, and honestly, in all its complexity, because that is how their example is most useful to us.  Not as gods, and not as fools, but as real human beings who were excellent to each other in the face of disaster.  I only hope that I, a latecomer to their ways, can do them justice.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 36 of????

1830 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

You seethe for the entire drive home. Furious at Taehyung's father for forcing him into an arranged marriage, furious at Taehyung for not standing up for himself, and furious at yourself for not trying harder to fight for Taehyung. You know better than anyone how difficult it can be to go against your family's wishes for you. But at least your family thought they were doing what was best for you, Taehyung's family only wanted to save themselves.

It takes all of your energy to try and calm down before you reach home, knowing the moment any of them scented you they would smell your anger and Taehyung's sorrow.  You contemplate heading into the main house first to shower, knowing that the builders finished one of the bathrooms last week, but you'd still be stuck in the same clothes so it'd only be dampening the smell, not removing it. 

You walk through the side gate to find Yoongi sitting out on the steps to the annexe. He looks up the moment he hears the wrought iron creak. He looks like he hasn't slept the entire night.

"Did something happen?" You ask.

"Yeah, a man I've come to care quite a lot about has suddenly become absent in my life for no discernable reason and on top of that, for some unknown reason, the woman I love stole my car and then stayed out all night without more than a brief text as an explanation," 

He looks at you expectantly, waiting. But you don't have an answer to give him. The news of Taehyung's impending nuptials isn't yours to share, and you can't tell him anything about last night without including that detail. You sit on the step below him and lean your head against his lap.

His hand finds its way into your hair easily. He gently tugs out the tangles you didn't have a chance to brush that morning.

"You don't want to talk about it? Or you can't?" He asks softly.

"It's not my story to tell," You confirm.

The two of you stay there silently for a while, watching the wind blow through the grass. You can tell he wants to push for more information, but he knows better.

Jin finally moves the two of you when he comes home from the night shift. He brings breakfast with him and gives it to Yoongi to set up, insisting that you go and shower before eating. What he didn't clarify before sending you into the bathroom was that he intended to shower with you, insisting on saving the water. 

He steps into the basin behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing along your shoulder up to the pulse point under your ear.

"Is there anything I can do to remove that rotting flower undertone to your scent?" He asks before nibbling at your earlobe.

"I don't think so, Jinnie," You admit, leaning back into his touch.

He reaches to the side and takes the soap from the shelf, using it to lather up the both of you. He offers compliments as he goes, making you blush with every word. It does little to soothe the memories of your fight, but it reminds you of the love your partners have for you and one another. If anyone can figure out how to fix Taehyung's problem it's your family. 

_____________________

Taehyung sits on his sister's bedroom floor as she dangles with her head off the side of the bed like they would when they were younger. They spent a lot of their formative years here, putting the world to rights. It seemed fitting that they be here again if Eun Jin did in fact have a plan that would save Taehyung from his parent's plan. 

"When we were younger, we went to a birthday party for a girl we had never met. Mum and Dad insisted that we attend as it was for the daughter of a very wealthy shareholder within one of their companies. Now, I don't particularly expect you to remember, it was around the time you were permanently drunk. However, that party was for Y/N L/N." Eun Jin explained. 

Taehyung listens with rapped attention. His sister is right, he has absolutely no memory of this party. His teen years all blend into one drunken blur when he tries to focus on them. Eun Jin goes on to explain that his father had always intended for their youngest brother to marry into this family, at the time Taehyung had been too much of a screw-up to consider, but Jong Gyu would've been perfect.

However, they had realised that plan wouldn't work as your parents had seemed pretty set on having you marry Romero, despite him being so many years your senior. In fact, after a brief conversation with your parents, it seemed like the idea of setting you up with another hybrid had been laughable to them anyway, so Taehyung's family abandoned that plan completely. 

Now, with her parents no longer a factor in her decisions, Eun Jin is under the impression that their family would be willing to accept you as his bride. 

Taehyung looks at his sister in shock, struggling to digest all the information he's been given. It seems too simple. Too easy. 

To escape his forced marriage all he needs to do is propose to the woman he loves instead? Nothing in his life is ever that simple... Unless it could be. 

"Do you really think Father would let me out of the arrangement that easily?" Taehyung asks in disbelief.

"I think it's your best shot." Eun Jin shrugs. 

"Then I guess it's a shot I'll have to take."

"Just make sure Mom is also in the room so you can play on the little sympathy she might have for love." Eun Jin reminds him, "Also you should perhaps get your pack onboard first..."

_____________________

For the remainder of his day, Taehyung sits through tedious meetings about wedding details with a fiance who seems roughly as enthused as him. It would seem she would also rather be anywhere else, which would at least make it easier when it came down to telling her the wedding was off. The families must've known neither of them wanted to truly be there as they never gave them even a second to be alone in the same room together

The Hirelys refused to leave until gone 9:00 pm. By that time everyone in Taehyung's family was exhausted. It turned out that while the bride may not have been ecstatic about the wedding, her family was insufferably chipper. They chattered nonstop and couldn't quite tell when they had outstayed their welcome even though the wedding planner had left hours prior.

"See Taehyung-ah... she isn't so bad." His mother commented as they all sat down for their evening tea.

"It doesn't matter either way. Our deal has been struck." His father states.

They all sip their tea silently, shuffling awkwardly in their seats. Eun Jin's gaze darts from Taehyung to their father, urging him to speak. Taehyung pretends not to notice, the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup seeming far more fascinating than anything else in the room. 

In theory, Taehyung has spent most of his life standing up to his father. The only problem is that he has ultimately lost every fight, and he isn't sure whether he is prepared to finally lose the battle if his father doesn't agree with the plan they have cooked up. 

It seems that Eun Jin doesn't harbour the same fears as she rolls her eyes and takes matters into her own hands.

"Daddy?" She starts, as she always does when she wants something "What if Taehyung-ah found himself a better bride, someone who would boost his reputation just as much, if not more than the girl you found?"

"Oh don't be silly dear." Their Father chastises, "No one of that high a calibre would be stupid enough to go for Taehyung, we are fortunate enough that the Hirelys agreed to this."

"I'm right here," Taehyung grumbles at the put-down, although no one takes any notice of him.

"What if he could marry Y/N L/N?" Eun Jin pushes.

His father audibly snorts into his tea presuming Eun Jin to be joking.

"No one has seen Y/N in months Eun Jin," Taehyung's brother chimes in "You'd never find her, and why would she want to marry Tae any way?"

Taehyung shoots evils at his brother who holds his hands up in defence. 

"We've seen her, In fact, we all saw her last night sneaking into Taehyung's bedroom, and this morning when Father yelled at her for being here..."

Their father pales.

"That can't have been her, don't be silly. The girl is a recluse. Her parents told me that after her husband's untimely accident, she moved home, she's been in mourning ever since and refusing to come out, they say she isn't well in the head."

"Her parents are lying!" Taehyung bursts out.

He jumps from his seat and slams a fist on the table. He realises he may have made a mistake when his father matches his actions, a standoff taking place over the table as the two men stare each other down. Taehyung does his best not to flinch away from his father's glare.

"It has been decided Taehyung, you will marry the Hirely girl and you will like it, no more of this hypothetical nonsense. You are a grown man and you will honour the commitment you made."

"No father, you want me to honour the commitment you made not me," Taehyung's voice cracks as he finishes the sentence.

"Taehyung you need to marry, and she really is a lovely girl. You should just accept this match," His mother says trying to comfort him.

"If this is just about me marrying then why can't I choose the partner?" He turns to his mother pleading in his eyes.

"You can't be trusted to pick a suitable match." His father sighs, rubbing his brow in frustration,

"Wouldn't you consider Y/N a suitable match?" Eun Jin asks.

"I might, but there is no way that girl this morning was the real Y/N. And even if she was I'm certain she wouldn't marry Taehyung." Their father scoffed.

"So if we can prove that she is the real Y/N and she says yes you'll consider it?" Taehyung's sister pushes.

"I'll consider it, only because I'm certain this won't work out the way you want it to," Their father agrees.

Taehyung reaches out his hand to shake his father's, knowing that no deal is complete in his father's eyes without it. Begrudgingly the older man meets Taehyung's grasp.

Immediately after they let go, Taehyung reaches for his keys and sprints for the door.

"Where do you think you're going, young man?" His father shouts.

"I'm going home, I have a proposal to figure out!" He shouts back before slamming the door closed behind him."

Next

Masterlist

[m-ayo-o]

1 stranger

meeting Toji // female reader wc 3400 chapters m.list -> next

wrote this last winter, it was chilly. i was sick.

nb: I placed Toji in his 40s. feel free to imagine whatever age you're comfortable with

You’re feeling totally wiped out, it’s the end of another long year and you really need a break. You have a few more jobs to do before you can start your holiday, but you’re so exhausted you’re not sure if you can get through them. Your morning has been spent recovering from another late night at work, now traipsing around the shops attempting to find some flu medicine.

Your eyes are blurry as you’re walking around, feeling so weak. Your legs tremble and the edges of your vision starts to cloud over and turn black. Clinging onto the nearest shelf your knees buckle and you fall. Black swathes cover your eyes like curtains, reality fades away as you feel yourself collapsing.

This may be more than a simple flu.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

The next sensation you feel is stinging pain in your head. You slowly open your eyes and blink, taking in the light as your pupils contract.

“Ugh…” you mutter, your head is killing. You’re obviously in a hospital bed, but next to you is an unfamiliar person.

He looks up seeing you’re awake.

“You fainted,” he states flatly, looking at your dazed expression.

Well, that much seems fairly obvious. You turn to face him slowly. “And you are?” You ask cautiously, your voice cracking as you’ve just woken up.

“Your hero,” he extends a hand to shake yours as you sit up.

“I just found you passed out in the shop back there…” he continues, “I took you to the hospital. I’m Toji.” His big hand squeezes you tight. As your gaze trails up his arm to his face you’re greeted by striking green eyes, dark spiky hair and a slight smile with a red scar on the edge of his lips.

“Oh,” you’re a bit lost for words as you look up at him, “well, um, thank you...” you manage, looking down from his intense gaze.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, releasing your hand, standing up, “well, I should get going now you’re up. I’ll tell the doctors to check on you.”

He turns towards the door, ready to leave. “Wait!” You squeak before he exits. He turns to face you again, locking eyes with yours.

“Please can I pay you back? If it weren’t for you I’d be in trouble… there are all sorts of creeps out there,” your voice is shaky as you ask him.

“How do you know I’m not one?” He questions with a teasing laugh.

“Because you brought me here! You didn’t have to do that,” you look down again, mumbling a little, “and now I owe you. So please, let me have your last name, or your number?” You ask, hoping that you can at least find him again to repay his kindness.

“It’s no big deal. I’m sure plenty of people would do the same thing,” he lies through his teeth, “but I’ll give you my number in case you need my services again,” he smirks as you pass him your phone. You text him your number and thank him again, managing a weak smile as he leaves you to the doctors.

You can’t believe somebody actually picked you up and took you to the hospital, let alone someone like him. He looked so intimidating and serious, but when he spoke his voice was soothing and alluring. You knew you really wanted to see him again.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You’re discharged from the hospital fairly quickly and you rest up for a few days in your apartment. You forget about your work and just try to relax, feeling better in time for the weekend, which is the start of your time off anyway. Now you’ve pretty much recovered, you really want to contact the mysterious man who looked after you so kindly.

You decide to call him, choosing the most direct route and hoping to hear his voice again.

“Hello, it’s y/n, from the hospital,” you explain as Toji answers.

“Oh hey, girl who passed out in the shop,” you hear his teasing tone through the phone.

“Yes,” you sigh, feeling embarrassed, “just... please tell me what I can do to repay you,” you know your voice sounds whiny over the phone, making you cringe.

“Hmm,” Toji thinks about what he can get away with, “how about you cook for me, at your place?” He asks bluntly.

You pause for a few moments as you’re a little taken aback. “Um- uh, ok. If that’s what you want?” You ask tentatively, thinking about his possible motives for coming over. He can hear your embarrassment over the phone.

“Look, I just want dinner. I don’t like crowded restaurants, that’s all,” he explains. “Oh, yes! Ok!” you feel your cheeks going red, feeling dumb for assuming he wanted something else, “yes, I, I’m not an amazing cook but I can try my best,” you stutter out. He agrees and you wrap up your call. You text him your address and decide what to cook.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

Toji said he'd arrive at 7pm after work, so you've got everything ready, allowing enough time to get changed into something a bit more presentable than a baggy jumper and fluffy socks.

You slip into a dress, applying a little mascara and lip gloss, tidying up your hair. You study your reflection, thinking you look pretty good, but this is the kind of outfit you’d usually wear for a date. The dress hugs your figure nicely and frills out at the bottom. You sigh and think, too much? But it’s too late, as you hear a knock at the door.

Toji looms over you, seemingly filling the entire doorway with his large figure. Your gaze travels up his body, over his well fitting shirt, his arms and torso.

The size difference between you is ridiculous as you feel like a child standing in front of him. You try to stop gawking as you smile up at your guest and greet him.

He looks down, unashamedly checking you out in your cute dress.

“You look…” his eyes linger over your waist, “much better now.”

The corner of his lip twitches into a little smirk as his eyes snap up to your pretty face again.

“I, I feel much better, thank you, please come in,” you manage, turning to hide your blush.

You enjoy your meal together and chat about work and whereabouts he lives in the neighbourhood. He seems pretty reserved but Toji explains that he’s a bodyguard for some political official during the day, sometimes picking up freelance work if it pays well.

Now you’re sitting up close to him, after hearing about his life, you realise Toji's probably a fair bit older than you. You think he might be around 38.

You both settle in the living room section of your open plan apartment, pulling up a coffee table to your big sofa. Toji reclines and relaxes as you get some dessert for yourself– he’s finally full after eating what would’ve been a week’s worth of food for you.

You find some dessert then turn back to sit on the sofa, seeing him standing up and stretching, his shirt lifting as he reaches his arms up above his head. Your eyes hover over his figure for a second, quickly returning your attention to your ice cream.

“I should probably get out of your way, it’s kinda late,” Toji sighs as he finishes stretching. You didn’t realise it's already 10:30, but it's Friday, and Toji seems really nice.

“Would you like to stay… for a drink?” you ask tentatively.

“You want me to stay?” His eyebrow arches as you push the ice cream around your bowl.

You nod, “if you want to…”

“I’ll stay, but not for a drink,” you get comfy on the sofa together and enjoy your ice cream.

“So, you know a little about me now, is there anything you’re curious about?” Toji asks, turning to you. You take another mouthful of your strawberry ice cream and look up at your handsome guest. Your eyes travel over his muscular arms, up his neck, over the scar on his lip, settling on his emerald eyes. 

“How old are you?” You finally ask.

“How old do you think I am?”

You hesitate for a second. You actually think he’s 38, so you decide to go a little lower in order to avoid any offence.

“36?” You ask.

“Honestly?” He knows you’re lying.

“38.” You state more confidently.

“45.” Toji replies with a toothy smile. Your eyebrows fly up as you let out a laugh that quickly dies down when you realise he isn't kidding.

“45?” You can only repeat, searching your mind for something smart to say, only to end up looking pretty dumbfounded.

“And how old are you?” He asks in return, curiosity getting the better of him. You repeat your little game, Toji near enough guessing your true age.

“Um, so is there anything you’d like to know about me?” You ask back.

“Hmm…” he tilts his head, “how many people have you slept with?”

You almost choke on your ice cream. You end up swallowing it as you laugh at his question. “You really want to know that?” You finally ask.

He nods, “mm, please do tell. I’m curious.”

“Why don’t you guess that, too? See how close you can get,” you suggest, wanting to know what he thinks.

Toji tries to dodge around the question for a while, not wanting to answer. Although he seems fairly blunt and straight talking, he doesn't come across as rude. So you give him a little clue, helping him guess just a few shy of the actual number.

“And you?” You return his inquisitive question.

“What do you think?” Of course, let’s guess again.

“Well, you’re older than me…” you trail off, gazing over his handsome features, “and much more attractive…” you sigh, thinking aloud.

“Excuse me?” He asks with a smile, wanting you to repeat yourself.

“You, you’re better looking than me. That’s just a fact,” you say again as you look up at him, trying not to get embarrassed.

“You think I'm attractive?” He asks with a grin, making you lose your cool and look down. Toji leans over, tilting your chin up with a finger and thumb. You just nod your head, your eyes avoiding his intense gaze.

“Maybe I haven't lost my touch...” he mutters, releasing your chin, “but you’re much more attractive than an old geezer like me,” he shrugs, complimenting you so casually.

Your eyes dare to meet his as you continue, “Ok, so you’re attractive, and a smooth talker,” you count on your fingers, “oh, and you’re some kind of hero,” your list gets longer.

“So…?” He asks as you attempt some quick calculations in your head.

“Um… I really don’t know!” You whine. You hazard a few guesses that all seem way off the mark as he just laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Not even close, doll,” he pauses, hesitation crossing his features, “to be honest, I don’t have an exact number, probably triple figures. But I'm not sure…” his voice dips lower as his eyes lose contact with yours.

“wow” you can't help but let out a little whisper.

“I know. When I was younger... I made a habit of sleeping with someone new whenever I could,” he sighs.

“Mm, were you trying to get over someone?” You ask quietly. He just nods and looks up at you with a rueful smile.

“Yeah, exactly that. But, it didn’t really work, so I stopped… and just got on with my life,” he sighs more contentedly now.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to pry,” you apologise as he shakes his head.

“I brought it up, right?” he shrugs.

You finish your interesting conversation and ice cream, starting to tidy up a little.

“I really should get going, I have to work so early in the morning,” you hear Toji groan as you're washing up.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” You didn't realise he was busy tomorrow. “No problem, how about we continue this another time?” He asks.

You agree, feeling a little disappointed as Toji leaves your apartment, but you understand he’s busy and his job must be tiring. He says goodnight and you thank him again for his help the other week as he waves and walks down the hallway.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

As the weeks progress, Toji and you seem to be getting closer, meeting up for drinks, he asks you for coffee the following weekend, then you invite him for dinner again the next Friday. You learn that Toji has a 25 year old son, which boggles your mind a little, who lives on the outskirts of the city.

He sees him fairly often but he explains they’re not that close. You’re very curious about the son he talks about as he’s around the same age as you. You presume the woman he mentioned before is his mother, and you don’t want to seem too nosy.

Along with his family background, you start to see different sides of Toji– how he is with strangers is downright off-putting, coming across arrogant and intimidating.

But behind his brazen and nonchalant exterior, you discover that he can be polite when he wants, seemingly pushing his ego down to show respect for others.

He doesn't seem to acknowledge it, but you swear you've never met anyone so hardworking. His profession in security takes a certain level of commitment, but Toji seems like he's on the clock 24/7, being vigilant and assertive everywhere you go.

You learn that he can be snappy and standoffish at times, mainly with strangers or whoever's unfortunate enough to be on the other end of the phone when his patience has worn thin.

But, no matter what mood he's in, you're never on the receiving end of any ill tempered outbursts. He seems so calm when he's talking with you, his body relaxing with your slight touch, his eyes softening as they linger over your pretty features.

You really innocently hope you’re the only girl he’s seeing right now. From his track record, you’d assumed otherwise. But, from his explanation you really hope that that phase is in the past for him. You carry on hoping, anyway.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

After spending another evening at your apartment, Toji has to leave once again. This time when he gets to the door he hesitates, turning to look down into your eyes. He reaches a large hand out to you as you stand close to him near the door. His hand seems to cover your entire shoulder as he pulls you into him gently. Toji wants a hug? You think to yourself.

You excitedly wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him tight, but you feel him pushing you away again. Oh, damn it, you think. He didn’t want that?? 

“C’mere, doll,” he murmurs as he snakes his hands down to your waist. He lifts you and hoists you up with his hips, making you wrap your legs around him for support. Your hands reach up around his shoulders that you can now reach and Toji wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“Mm, that’s better,” he mumbles into your neck, your head right next to his.

“‘m too short,” you murmur back, feeling sorry that you couldn’t reach around his shoulders properly without help. Well, you don’t feel too sorry now you’re in this position.

“Mm, no,” he turns his head to you, “you’re the perfect size f’ me,” his lips lift into a little smirk, your noses touching.

“Toji…”

“Mm?” his voice sounds much deeper now you're up close.

He kisses you passionately and gently slips his tongue into your mouth. You eagerly kiss him back and slide your tongues together as he holds you in his arms. You pull away and he sucks your lip, not wanting to stop.

“Can I kiss you?”

He just smiles and leans in, closing the gap between your lips.

“I thought you’d never ask, doll,” he sighs and kisses you again, then sets you back on your feet, “I really do have to go, though…”

You have a slightly pouty expression as you look up at him, his black hair hanging down over his face as he leans over.

“How about you come to my place next week?” he asks.

Huh, you realise you haven’t been to Toji’s yet. “Oh, ok. Sure.”

He leans right down and kisses you again, saying goodnight. He knows he’s left you eager for more as he walks down the hallway, waving goodbye.

keep reading: sweet

[chapters m.list]

[masterlist]

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! ♡

[thefrontofmymind]

Unknown (matty healy x reader)*

WARNINGS: THIS IS SMUT, IF I FIND OUT A MINOR READS THIS IM TELLING UR PARENTS

a/n: this is a part 2 to all things end, this one is based off of the song unknown by hozier. listen to it, it's such a good song

You spent months living your life before you let yourself think about him again. You were invited to a dinner party at the Hann’s, it would’ve been weird if he wasn’t invited. You were thinking of it as something of a preemptive strike against yourself–finally thinking through and addressing your relationship with Matty. 

It’d been easy so far, he’d been away on tour so things in your flat were like they always were, apart from the day after you knew they’d all gotten back when George showed up to your flat, asking for some of his things. You let him take most of Matty’s things, from a list you saw he was reading off of from a text on his phone–a guitar he particularly loved, some of his clothes he didn’t pack for tour, and his stack of full notebooks he’d compiled over the years. He let you keep all the records housed in a floor-to-ceiling shelf in your living room. You knew there were some especially rare ones in the collection, ones you knew he tracked down after years and years of looking.

You decided the best way to really digest everything you’d hid away in a locked-up cupboard in your mind was to write a letter. You didn’t go into it thinking you’d ever give it to him, but you just wanted to write down all the things you wish you could say to him, so you could start again with a clean slate of sorts.

Dear Matty,

To start out this letter, I should tell you that, even now, I think I’ll always love you. Of course you knew this from our last proper conversation, but it’s still true now over 2 months later. We did so much together, you’ll always have a piece of my heart, and I hope mine your’s.

I try not to think about you when I see the ashtray I made for you during that week of quarantine when I got really into pottery. It still sits at its home on the window sill of the bathroom. I try not to turn my head too quickly when I’m out in public and I hear a Northern man speaking behind me. I don’t think I can ever watch True Romance again without thinking about my favourite song, I don’t think I could listen to Fugazi again without thinking of that goddamn t-shirt you wore until it was covered in holes.

I never said it enough, but I’m still so proud of you. For everything. You are a true image of dreams being accomplished, you’re basically a legend in the making. I know you never liked me inflating your ego too much, but I hope you’ll take this compliment at least this once.

This could be misconstrued as a little selfish, but I hope you’re hurting as much as I have been. I hope you struggle to think of me, I hope you reminisce on the good times and dwell on the tough times. I don’t know where you’re staying at the moment, I’m still getting all your mail so you mightn’t have gotten a new place yet, so you’re probably staying with George or someone, but I hope there’s things that remind you of me. Like those cufflinks I bought you for the first of your birthdays we spent together or when you see a movie on Netflix you know I love.

I hope that when we see each other again, there’s not a shred of any contempt in my heart. We don’t have to be friends, but it would kill me if we couldn’t even speak.

Love From Me

As you folded it and slid it into an envelope you felt so much lighter. And with it placed at the bottom of the drawer of your nightstand, you felt like you could breathe freely–for the first time in months.

Now you just had to face him. A task easier said than done, even with your previous exercise, it was a bandaid that made the pain bearable.

The evening of the dinner, you made sure to look your best. Not for Matty, no. You needed to show everyone else that you were fine–you were sure Matty had told them all about what happened, and the only one of his bandmates you’d spoken to was George. It was a shock when you got the text from Carly asking if you were free, you thought the end of your relationship with Matty would mean the end of your friendship with the people around him. Not to say you weren’t pleasantly surprised, just a little bit caught off guard.

You did a quick once-over before you headed out the door, and in the least self-conceited way, you’d never looked hotter. Your makeup was perfect, your hair had that fluffy, 90s supermodel look, and you were wearing a dress that fit you like a glove, in a colour that was the perfect compliment to your glowing skin.

On the drive there you were trying to psych yourself up. It wasn’t a big deal…You could do this. Even as you were walking towards the front door and you could hear laughs inside, you kept telling yourself you would be okay…even if you didn’t believe it all that much.

Only about a second after you pressed the doorbell, you were greeted with the sight of the one, the only Jamie Squire.

“How are you, kid?” He asked excitedly, giving you a friendly hug.

“Oh…You know,” you answered. Because he most certainly did know. You held up the mid-priced bottle of red wine you brought. “Where should this go?”

“Oh Carly’s in the kitchen,” he said.

You were glad to see Carly alone in the kitchen, checking on whatever meal was in the oven. She was just as dolled up as you–you were glad you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“Carls!” You called to her as you entered the kitchen.

She excitedly turned and gave you a hug, and gave you a compliment on your makeup. You were always grateful for the friendship between The 1975’s WAGs, past and present.

“So where’s the little rockstar?” You asked, you always loved spending time with Baby Hann, as one of his godparents you’d spent many days playing along with any game he could come up with–which were becoming more and more inventive as he got older.

“He’s at Ad’s parents’,” she answered, you frowned. “Hey, we need a night off every so often!”

“I know…I know…” You joked as you poured a glass from the bottle you brought. “Well then where’s your lovely husband? Need to tell him he should help out his wife.”

“He’s in the living room with everyone else…” She got quiet at the end of her sentence.

“Hey,” you said in a serious tone. “It’s okay, I can be around him.”

“You’re sure?”

“I think.” You laughed.

“If you say so…” She went back to preparing some kind of sauce on the stovetop, leaving you to wade into the unknown. 

You followed the noise of laughter and talking. You were greeted with the sight of George standing in front of everyone else, telling some insane story of his–and the band’s–youth. He trailed off mid-sentence when you entered, and his audience all whipped their heads around to look at the interruption.

Immediately everyone stood, each taking turns to greet you with a polite hug. Last was Matty, he hung back as everyone else said hello. You were so distracted you didn’t notice him at first, but when you did, it was clear how he’d been doing. His hair was longer than before, but not in a way that seemed like he was trying to grow it out, he had a light sprinkle of stubble, and the suit he wore–a staple for him recently–was wrinkled and it looked just a little too big on him.

You politely gave him a kiss on the cheek. You were engulfed in the scent of his cologne, a scent you didn’t realise you missed so dearly.

“How are you, love?” He asked. Love. Sometimes things don’t change, you thought.

“I’m alright,” you said with a bright facade. “Busy with work.”

“Good! Me too,” he answered.

Soon you were whisked away by whomever wanted to talk to you next, not even given an opportunity to say goodbye.

And that was how it went for most of the evening, you’d somehow end up standing next to each other, and someone would intervene. You couldn’t blame your friends, they just wanted to minimise the tension, but there was nothing that could be done about your heart shattering more and more every time you got a look at him.

It got later into the night, and soon the group began to get thinner and thinner. At just a few stragglers left, you saw Matty in the back garden, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. It was time.

Maybe it was the bottle of wine giving you the courage, but you knew you couldn’t end the night without a proper conversation with Matty, it would be just plain rude not to.

He didn’t react at hearing the clunk of your heels on the wooden deck he was sitting on, only when you sat down right next to him. All he did was offer you a drag of his cigarette which you took, like old times.

“I’m glad you came,” he said after you handed the ciggie back to him. “Here, I mean.”

“Me too…” You answered. “Was a fun night.”

“Did you see how pissed Charli was?” He smiled. “G had to carry her to the car.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” you laughed. “So…uh…where are you staying at the moment?”

“I’ve been bouncing around…” He answered. “Here for tonight.”

You nodded. He seemed quite content to keep scrolling on his phone in silence, but you didn’t want to quit.

“Do you think we could be friends?” You asked. “One day, I mean…eventually.”

Matty looked at you–properly–for the first time since you sat down. “I hope so. Just…”

“What?”

“I need to get over some stuff before that,” he said, nonchalantly, stubbing out his cigarette on the wood of the deck. “Like…I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I love you. Like ever.”

Your heart sank at the admission. Everything you’d done to prepare yourself to face him calmly suddenly went out the window.

“Then what are we doing?”

He looked confused by your question.

“Why are we both miserable and just not doing anything about it? Why did we decide to split up if this was how it would end up?”

You were admittedly a bit drunker than you realised at first, you’d never have as much courage to talk to him about all this if you were completely sober.

“Because…” He started. “We run our course.”

“Who says?” You could feel something–Anger? Passion?–bubbling up. “Why should we suffer doing something that neither of us really want? Why were we so rash with all this?”

That last question was more to yourself, why did you give up so easily? You could see Matty’s eyes had a slight gloss to them, yours matched them.

“I don’t know.” Was all he said. And it was enough to solidify your decision of what you were about to do.

You began to lean forward, strong eye contact between the two of you. Matty met you in the middle and before you knew it you were engulfed in the warmth of his kiss, now letting the tears flow freely. It was some kind of cathartic release, all pent up over the last few months.

You didn’t break away until you were in desperate need of air. You both caught your breaths, just staring at each other. Eventually Matty let out a small chuckle.

“What?” You asked, confused but matching his grin.

“Was just thinking…” He started. “I’m supposed to stay here tonight…And I don’t know how I’m gonna sneak out to spend the night with you.”

You laughed. “Well that’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Well I know my audience…” He quipped. It was true, he knew the kind of person you were, as evident when you brought him back to your flat after your first proper date and silently begged him not to judge you–which he didn’t.

You both sat in silence for a little while, a comfortable silence. You didn’t want to go back inside, you felt safe in just Matty’s presence. But you were thinking, how would you explain this to everyone? Simple, you didn’t have to. As much as you loved the band and everyone that came along with them–your family–you did like being alone some of the time. And you thought it best to be alone right now.

“Well I’m going home,” you said, standing up.

“What do I do?” He asked.

“I don’t know! Come up with some excuse! Like you need another pack of fags or something!”

“Carly doesn’t like me smoking here! I had to sneak that one!” He pointed to the butt that was sitting crumbled on the deck next to him.

You sighed. “Just come up with something?”

He laughed. “I’ll try…”

You bid a farewell to the last of the group, and thanked the wonderful couple for hosting. As you turned the ignition of your car, a sense of excitement ran through you. You felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with a boy that made you giddy.

When you got back to your flat, you hurriedly tidied as best you could; making your bed, drying and putting away the dishes you’d left on the sink. When you finally had the time to get a look at yourself in the mirror and saw the sight before you, you quickly refreshed your makeup, fixing your smudged lipstick and creased concealer.

And then you waited on your sofa, after you poured yourself a glass of wine to keep your fearlessness going. Time ticked by ever so slowly. You must’ve checked your phone about two hundred times over the course of about 50 minutes. Eventually you heard a series of rapid knocks at your door, it could only be him. As soon as you opened the door his lips were on yours, feverish and rough.

“What took so long?” You asked in between kisses.

“Had to wait for everyone to leave…” Another kiss. “And then for Hann and Carly to go to bed.”

You just smiled. You had the adrenaline of a horny teenager.

In a flurry of clothes being stripped off between biting, hot kisses, you made your way to your bedroom. A task that was easy for Matty, purely for muscle memory.

There was no need to warm up to it. You straddled Matty and engulfed him in another kiss that almost made you melt.

“You want me to wear a condom?” He asked in a string of breaths, trying not to focus on the heat radiating from you on his thighs.

“I know I’m still clean, are you?”

“Of course.” Was his way of saying there’d been nobody else, An admission that made you beam.

You took gentle hold of his cock, running your thumb over the tip and eliciting a moan from him. And even more as you slowly lowered down on him. It felt comfortable, like home.

As you began to bounce, keeping firm eye contact with Matty, you could feel a bubble start to form in your abdomen. 

You felt your spine turn to jelly when Matty placed two firm fingers on your clit, massaging it in a familiar pattern that you hadn’t felt in months. You were rapidly approaching the edge.

“Ma–Baby…” You began to get out. “Al-almost there…”

“Do you want me on top?” He asked, you nodded.

In a flash, Matty readjusted you so you were laying on top of the mattress, lifting your hips up just a little so he could hit that spot, over and over and over again.

You were biting your lip to stop from letting out the most guttural moan, you just about drew blood. But you just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Once Matty had hit your g-spot one last time, you just unravelled underneath him. He kept thrusting as you ran out your high, but it wasn’t long before he was emptying into you and collapsing next to you.

In a hazy silence, you both were laid on your bed–yours and his–catching your breaths. After a few minutes of recovery, you sat up a little to look at Matty. He was staring at the ceiling with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him.

“You alright there?” You asked, with a smile of your own.

“Yeah just…” He took a second to gather his thoughts. “Just really, really happy.”

“Me too.”

The rest of your evening–in a word–was still. You were sat in bed, now under the covers with legs intertwined, just talking. Talking about anything, everything, what you missed out on each other’s lives in the past couple months.

But there was one thing you wanted to tell him–needed to tell him. It was whispering at you from the drawer of your nightstand.

“I have something for you,” you said.

“Oh?” Matty asked with a smile as turned away from him to retrieve the envelope. “Is it a good something or a bad something?”

“Good, I think.” You handed him the envelope that had ‘to Matty’ scrawled on the front. “I wrote it a couple days ago, I just wanted to get all my feelings out.”

As he opened the envelope and quickly scanned the paper within, he got the memo. “A letter for me?”

“You don’t have to read it, or if you want to I can leave the room if that makes it easier…”

“No, you don’t have to…” He said with urgency. “Just sit with me?”

You nodded and shimmied closer to him as he read. It took a couple minutes, after he was done, he folded it back up and placed it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. You finally looked at him, he had tears in his eyes.

“I…” He said shakily. “I love you so much. And I’m never letting you go again.”

[affectionate-team]

Smitten Ace × reader drabble

I recently came back from a ve~ery long trip, and I've got a few ideas to share... to be honest, I used to be pretty annoyed by Ace when I first got into twst, but the more content I find of him, the more attractive this prick seems >:/ I swear, liking him as a character feels embarrassing... but who cares? Basically, this post is all about what I imagine travelling with a smitten Ace might be like.

So, almost half of my trip was spent riding the train to get to a camp with a hundred or two of other kids from my region, so you can guess it was eventful. Imagine going on such a trip with the first-years team, having to take a train for three days straight - it's basically like becoming roommates for a short while.

To get at least a sliver of privacy, you call dibs on a top bunk from the very start; that way you can hide away in a space of your own when social interactions start getting exhausting. Hearing that, Ace rushes to claim the bed opposite of yours. It takes him some effort to convince Deuce, who was actually supposed to take that place, to trade, without blowing his cover. When you enter the train car, Ace is already unpacking his things, jumping down his bunk (almost landing on Sebek) to throw your luggage onto a shelf.

Settling down isn't easy, with how many passengers are in the train car and how little space there is, but eventually everyone takes their seat.

The road promises to be long, and what better entertainment is there if not playing card games? Obviously, Ace has brought a whole pack of them, a laminated limited-edition deck with am intricate design that he snagged from his brother. Passing cards out for everyone and starting a game. As expected from someone who's been basically holding cards since crib, he wins every single time, pulling kings and aces seemingly out of nowhere (or, perhaps, right from his sleeves...). When he exits the game, Ace leans closer to you, watching the way you use your deck and giving subtle hints on how to turn the situation in your favor, smirking proudly when you start picking up and winning more frequently.

Whenever your little squad sits down for a meal, Trappola takes a seat as close as possible - either in front of you or at your side. You two often trade or share, swapping food you don't like for something you have a liking for. Ace would never be caught dead admitting to it, but I feel like he might sometimes lie about hating some snack or desert, just to have a reason to share with you.

I don't even doubt that he'd be the one to initiate playing something like truth or dare later into the evening, having prepared a full list of embarrassing questions and wild dares specifically for this occasion. Expect him to bluescreen if, when dared to kiss the most handsome guy around, you pick anyone except him.

And eventually night rolls around. Clad in a complect of comfortable night clothes, you fluff up a pillow and a blanket, wrapping yourself up cozily and turning on one side. You face Ace, barely making out his features in the dark. His two crimson eyes stare into your face, and if at that moment all lights were on, you would've noticed a hint of fondness in his expression. Propping his head up on a hand, Ace whispers,"

Asleep yet?"

You two talk quietly for a few more hours into the night. School, family, plans for future - it's so easy to share with him, conversation flowing naturally. Contrary to the confident and boisterous voice he usually equips around others, right now he sounds gentle. No persona to upkeep (assuming that all others have fallen asleep long ago), nothing to hide or prove; and as you feel your eyelids grow closing and head sinking into the pillow, you succumb to heavy sleep of exhaustion.

The last thing you hear before dozing off is a far-away:

"Good night... dream of me, yeah?"

[satansaidnottoday]

Armistice at the library.

Info: Human AU, Satan's Mc, GN!Mc.

Summary: You have been annoying Satan long enough to get a date.

A/N: We do a little jump in the timeline here, we will keep jumping back and forth depending on what story I want to tell.

Monday was Satan's least favorite day. He had to sift through all of the books left in the return box during the weekend and make sure they didn't get damaged. They then had to be returned to their place on the shelf. Still, the smell of books and the soft silence made up for it. From up high on the ladder, he could see the morning sun slowly rising over the shelves and tables. It was such a beautiful view; it calmed him down.

Suddenly he got dragged, his ladder moving a full meter to the right out of his control. He held on to the railing for dear life. A less than dignified screech left his throat.

"Good morning, loser," you said, letting go of the ladder. 

"Mc, for fucks sake." He cursed you, coming down as fast as his trembling feet let him.

You laughed and sat down on your table, putting your books down and your feet up. Out of all of the regulars, you were the only one who would show up at 7 a.m. every single Monday. He wasn't a fan. 

"I could have fallen!" He pushed your feet off the table and looked down at you, breathing heavily. You loved how worked up he got. 

"I would have caught you," you said, grabbing his hand on yours. "I will always catch you," you said, looking up at him with your best dreamy eyes and soft, loving smile.

His whole face turns a lovely shade of red. His hand rips apart from yours, and he turns around, leaving for the counter with a huff. You watch him leave, waiting until he is sitting at his computer to start your own work. 

Ever since you returned to town, you have been going to the library every day to work. Partly because it was much nicer than the teacher's lounge, and it was right in front of the school. Party because you loved annoying the sexy librarian. You actually knew him from high school before you moved out. He was a hothead, you remembered. It was kind of funny to see him put up such a serious facade. 

The next few hours are spent grading papers and writing assignments. Every so often, Satan lifted his eyes from the desk and stole a look at you. Every single time, you winked at him. The last time he sighed so deeply, you could almost see the air leaving his lungs. You took the opportunity to walk up to him.

"Hey, handsome, mind scanning a book for me?" You ask, leaning down on the counter. You put down your copy of Lord of the Flies in front of you. "I need 20 copies of the first 2 chapters.

"You don't have scanners and printers at school?" He asks, turning the page in his own book.

"No, we're poor," you lied.

"Then I wonder why you're the only teacher who comes here to work." He lifted his eyes just to glare at you.

"Truly a mystery." You pushed the book closer to him. He took it and inspected it.

"You're having twelve-year-olds read Lord of the Flies?" He asks, looking at you weird.

"Why not? They can relate to the protagonists."

In reality, your first class of the day started at noon, and you had prepared no reading material at all. You had picked up the first book you saw in your bag.

"Let me check; I might already have a digital copy." He started typing on his computer.

"So reliable; I love that in a man."

"Well, at least this way, your students don't need to read your 'notes'," he said, making air quotes with his fingers. Behind him, the printer started working.

"What's wrong with my notes?" Your voice came out an octave higher than you expected.

"Let's see," he said, opening the book up. "We have 'Oh no oh no oh no'," he pauses to look at you for a second. "Just a bunch of 'damn', 'damn', 'damn', 'these kids are fucked up' and then 'poor piggy' sad face." 

You felt the heat rising in your own face as you took the book from his hands. "In my defense, those kids were fucked up."

He laughed at you. It made you wish the printer would work faster. You didn't like being on this side of the power dynamic.

"I should charge your school for all these copies," he said, stapling the copies together as they came out of the printer.

You snorted. "Good luck with that. They're already paying me with hopes and dreams."

He smiled, a non-malicious smile for the first time. "On that, we can relate at last."

"The woes of government employment." 

You stacked the copies as he handed them to you, and when they were all ready, you pushed them into your briefcase.

"Thank you, good sir." You offered him your hand for a shake, and he reluctantly took it. You pulled a fast one and bowed down to kiss it. Heat returned to his face, and the universe regained its balance. 

"You've got to stop teasing me," he sneakered, taking away his hand.

"Okay," you nodded. "Let's go on a date." 

He put a hand on his forehead, as if you were giving him a headache. "I said stop."

"Stop teasing. That's what I'm doing; I'm being direct," you explained, leaning closer to him. "Let's get coffee."

He looked at you for a few seconds, scanning your face for any hints of foolery. For once, you were being completely serious. He sighed.

"I'm free on Saturday," he said, looking at his drawers for something. After some shuffling, he took out a small magnet shaped like the head of a cat and handed it to you. "That's my favorite place."

"Café gatitos and cream," you read off the magnet. It took all of your strength not to laugh at how childish it looked. Instead, you nodded. "See you there at nine?"

He nodded back, avoiding your eyes. Without another word, he went back to work. You resolved to do the same.

Walking back to the school, you fidgeted with the magnet in your hand. You really couldn't wait. 

Thank you for reading ❤️

[hunterswithcell-phones]

Put your emptiness to melody, your awful heart to song

@pieceofshitregulus Here's my second work for this fest!

1

For a library that opened in the middle ages, it could use an organizational system. Regulus spent upwards of 20 minutes searching the shelves for a copy of a stupid book on the history of the Sacred 28. Ironic, he knows. He should be exempt from this assignment and all resembling it, considering his bloodline. At the very least, he shouldn’t be required to read the book his dimwitted professor decided would be best for the assignment.

Regulus read the book as a child, and knows for a fact there are dozens that express the histories of the Blacks with far more accuracy, but it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest that the Hogwarts teachers read one singular book on the topic and decided it to be the best out there. Especially since most of them seem to be half-breeds who wouldn’t know the difference between a Black and a Potter.

His eyes land on the title, partway down a shelf near the bottom. Just sitting there, in plain few. His eyes can’t have brushed over it dozens of times, right?

It doesn’t matter. Now that he’s found it, he has to read it. Maybe it would be better he hadn’t found it at all.

As Regulus pivots towards the aisle’s exit, whispers of his name catch his attention. Whispers from some 2nd year girls.

“But, like, Regulus has never dated anyone. We both know that’s not normal.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has.”

“But why wouldn’t he tell anyone? Surely the lucky girl would want to tell everyone?”

“Have you seen Regulus Black? It’s certainly a lucky boy.”

The first girl sounds scandalized as the frivolous conversation continues.

As she should be. Not that the statement is inaccurate. But these nobodies have no place to be speaking this way about the heir to the Blacks.

Someone needs to keep these second years in check. They go through life thinking they can get away with anything, and no one does anything to ensure they know otherwise. Revolting, truly.

If no one else will, Regulus supposes he should take it into his own hands. Before some blood purist hears similer words and it ends far worse for them. They should be grateful.

Regulus walks down the end of the aisle to see who these girls are.

Watching their foolishly light-hearted humor turn to fear is the best thing he’s seen this week.

“Is there a reason you two thought it would be appropriate to gossip about the heir to one of, if not the, most powerful family within the Sacred 28?”

One of them foolishly attempts to stay composed while the other flushes and stuttering haphazard apologies.

Regulus glares harder. “I have no interest in fake apologies. Though if I hear something like this out of either of your mouths again, you certainly wont be getting out of it so easily.

Their eyes widen as Regulus turns and briskly walks to the check out counter with the stupid book.

2.

Regulus needs to escape this crowd of students who seem to have decided to crowd these walkways. Every single one of them is loud and obnoxious and an obstruction to his view of Barty.

They’re meeting in one of the most generic coffee places in Hogsmeade, though Regulus has never been. He thought it seemed pointless to make plans to go there, but Barty wanted to for some demented reason.

He should have voiced his thoughts then, but no. And he, Regulus Arcturus Black, cannot ask some random third year for help with directions. He supposes he will just keep up the appearance he knows exactly where he is going.

Regulus strolls through the crowd, glancing. casually at all the storefronts.

Until footfalls he would recognize anywhere appear behind him. Sirius’. The right footfall landing far harder than the left makes him so obvious. That boy has always walked with a limp for no real reason. Though the reason is likely just to bother Mother in a way she can’t quite punish. Not that she doesn’t try.

Regulus is in no mood to bother conversing with his brother. Sirius left two years ago and hasn’t spoken to him since. He has no right to decide to be brothers now.

Regulus continues his casual stroll, ignoring the steps falling close behind him.

Until Sirius has the gall go call out to me. “Regulus? I want to talk.”

Regulus attempts to ignore him and act as though the call was for some other Regulus.

But people are staring. He must turn around and look Sirius in the eyes. “I have absolutely no interest in talking to you. And if I did, I would have turned around 5 minutes ago. So. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Sirius’ face drops, and what looks to be a tear falls from his eyes.

Good. He understands just a sliver of Regulus’ pain when Sirius left to betray their family.

And, another plus. As he stalks off, the sign he’s been searching for appears.

If only it could have appeared a few minutes ago.

3.

This is the biggest game of the season so far. Though it isn’t anywhere near the end of the season. Just the first Slytherin and Griffindor game. People always go wild for these for some reason.

As though Ravenclaw doesn’t consistently have far better strategy and players than Griffindor. But people have no taste, so games between the actual two best teams receive next to no fanfare. Pathetic.

Regulus changes in his usual corner, obstructed by some random crap someone must have left, which isn’t uncommon, as Hogwarts has taken to storing random crap in our change room over the past few months. Love that.

Muttering comes from the boys in the corner. The more Regulus discerns of them, the more he considers himself grateful for the stack of crap in the corner.

“With Black going soft, it’ll take a bit of work to win this one.”

“He isn’t what he used to be. Wonder who turned him soft.”

“Probably dating the Rosier girl. They’re always together.”

“Yeah, well, Sirius was always better than him. There’s just no real comparison now. Nothing worthwhile, anyway.”

With heavy footfalls, Regulus steps out and into their field of vision, watching as the fear fills their eyes.

He hasn’t lost his spark, has he?

Meeting the eyes of Lucas, the idiot in the middle, Regulus snarls his next words. “So? You three going to take that back? Or am I going to ‘accidentally’ knock some of you off your brooms later?”

After 3 seconds of silence, Regulus turns on his heels and chuckles at their loud apologies.

4.

After hours of homework in the library, a random student Regulus assumes is in one of his classes walks up to him. What for, he cannot fathom.

Everyone seems to avoid him except for the occasional group assignment, when arguments break out over who gets the privilege of being my partner. Consistently. Though teachers usually ask me how much work my partner actually did. The parts I spent less time on are always the parts my partner ‘did’. Funny how that works out.

“Uh, Regulus, I’m in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I was, uh, wondering if you know how to do the questions from today? They were confusing and I figured you would probably understand.”

Regulus laughs. “Why in hell would I help the competition? Go find someone else to do charity work.”

He looks offended as he shuffles off. Regulus would laugh, but with no one near, he would just seem crazy.

*** page break ***

+1

Hogsmeade with Pandora is always an adventure. Contrary to popular belief, she isn’t strange, though she does enjoy most of the shops that most would skip past without second thought. Which benefits the both of them, because Regulus would prefer to avoid the crowds.

Regulus glances over at her, and sees a list in her hand. Bizarre. “Is there anywhere specific we need to go?”

“Not sure where, but I need some quills.”

“We might have to make a visit to one of the boring stores.”

They would both rather just not get the quill, but she does need to pass her classes more than they need to avoid human interaction. They make the meandering walk back to the main streets to find the store.

Regulus leaves Pandora by the quills to wander around, even though he’s not actually looking for anything. She’s known for taking a while to choose quills, so it’s better to entertain myself while she looks.

In the bathroom, 2 guys come in and seem not to see Regulus.

“You see the Rosier chick over there, staring at quills?”

“Oh yeah, was she talking to them, too? How does she have friends?”

Laughter breaks out. “Black seems to like her. She must give him a discount on the weed. Couldn’t be any other reason for them to be friends.”

As someone seems to be close to suggesting something Regulus would rather never hear about Pandora, he steps out.

2 pairs of eyes, following Regulus, fear obvious.

“Anything else the 2 of you would like to add before a few dents are added to your faces?”

The idiots stutter out some of the most insincere apologies Regulus ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Comical, really. Though he supposes that’s what a threat of a messed up face does to people like them. They can’t spare a hint of their potential attraction due to the kinds of mistakes they make regularly.

But begging for mercy doesn’t work for Regulus.

*** page break *** (continuation of +1)

Was he just mean to someone for someone else?

No, that cannot be possible. He wasn’t doing it for Pandora. He did it for himself. He couldn’t bear to hear something like that about her.

Somewhere deep inside, he knows he did it for her. But he cannot confront that today.

Word will spread quick. People will probably think they’re together, which sounds like hell, truly.

But, for her, it’s worth it. Neither of them give too much thought to what others think. Hell, she deals drugs she’s never once done for the cash.

As Regulus slips back into the store, he walks up close to her side and squeezes her hand. Seemingly inconsequential, though it’s more physical affection than he’s ever displayed in public. She seems confused, but lets him do it all the same.

People watch them. And he finds he doesn’t care for the questioning glances of others.

[scionshtola]

from the kiss prompts :> 9. to shut them up 💗

ty azia!! this was a lot of fun to write 😌

kiss prompt 9. to shut them up || Corisande x Y'shtola || 794 words || divider credit

Y’shtola’s childhood bedroom had changed little since she last called Matoya’s cave home. The same books lined the shelves, the same quilt spread across the bed, the same quill and ink sat on the desk. Though the room had obviously been kept free of dust by Matoya’s enchanted brooms, they had seemingly left everything else untouched since her last visit. The only additions were done so by herself: new books stacked in front of the old ones, her notes scattered haphazardly across the desk, and Corisande standing in front of the bookshelves, studying the spines. 

They pulled a book from the shelf, idly flipping through its pages before setting it back in its place and pulling another. After a few more books, their soft hum of amusement made Y’shtola’s ears perk in their direction.

“Is there something amiss?” she asked archly, glancing at them from where she was perched at the end of the bed. 

“All of your childhood books are quite…academic.” They turned a few more pages in the book they were holding, and Y’shtola could hear the grin in their voice when they added, “‘Tis exactly as I expected.”

She pursed her lips, feigning indignation as they sat cross-legged on the rug, the book held open in their lap. “You were a scholar of the arcane arts in your childhood, were you not? Was your own library not similarly curated?”

“I was hardly so difficult to please as you,” Corisande teased. “My library was not a curated collection so much as a hoard of every book I could get my hands on. At least, as many as we had room for.”

Corisande tilted her head back, looking up at the shelves that stretched high along the wall. “Though I would have loved to have a collection such as this—mayhap with a few adventurer novels thrown in the mix.”

A soft ache thrummed quietly in Y’shtola’s chest for that younger Corisande. She remembered the way Corisande had devoured each book she’d recommended to them from the library at the Waking Sands. After so many years spent teaching themself all they could about arcanum, they had been so eager to discuss their readings with Y’shtola and Urianger, both of whom happily obliged.

Y’shtola may not have had peers her own age, but she had always had Matoya to learn from. She always had the cave to which she could return.

She rose from the bed and knelt next to Corisande, her shoulder brushing theirs. “Had we known each other then, I would have been only too pleased to share my library with you.”

Corisande turned her head in Y’shtola’s direction, a soft smile gracing her lips. She started to lean in, her fingers twining with Y’shtola’s, but at the last moment she veered sharply to the right. Y’shtola pulled back, watching as she stretched across the floor and reached her hand under the bed.

Y’shtola’s stomach dropped—how could she have forgotten? But it was too late to stop Corisande now. 

“What is this we have here?” Corisande said, rising back into a sitting position. She held aloft a plush creature, exhumed from its tomb beneath Y’shtola’s bed. “Evidence that a child once resided in this room after all?” 

“‘Tis only a plush paissa,” Y’shtola muttered. She could not make out the features well, but she recognized the malleable roundness between Corisande’s hands. “A poro roggo brought him to the cave for me when I was young.”

“Does he have a name?” Corisande asked, a gentle fondness in her tone that softened the teasing.

“No,” Y’shtola said pointedly, ignoring the growing warmth in her cheeks. “He does not.”

Corisande’s smile only grew wider. “Shall I guess then? Given your history of creative spellwriting, I imagine ‘tis something special. Let’s see…mayhap—”

Before Corisande could finish her sentence, Y’shtola leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. Corisande leaned closer, her smile giving way to parted lips for a brief moment before she pulled back, evidently undeterred.

“No guessing then. Mayhap the poro roggo will tell me.” She fell silent as Y’shtola kissed her again, but pulled back to add, in a tone far too delighted for Y’shtola’s liking, “Or mayhap I ought to ask Master Matoya herself.”

“I assure you Matoya is not inclined to such conversations.” Y’shtola slipped her fingers into Corisande’s hair, tilting their head back as she leaned over them. She kissed them again, deeper this time, until she felt one of their hands find purchase on her waist. “Nor would she be so kind as I in her discouragement of the subject.”

Corisande laughed against her lips, and settled her other hand on Y'shtola's waist as well. Y’shtola, pleased by the acquiescence, set about ensuring the subject would not rise again.

[bomberqueen17]

my personal hell

LOL ok so. I've been in buffalo for a week now. And i bought a car, which wasn't nothing. But I've had like. a small to-do list. We had every window in the house replaced (except for one, hilariously, which will remain as a testament to the original state of the house; it was enclosed by a three-season porch and so is a window from an interior room to an, effectively, seasonally, interior room, so we opted not to change it. we do open it in the summer. the cat loves it.) so all of the furniture was stacked against interior walls and, the house being from 1950 and having plaster walls, everything was covered in a fine layer of plaster dust. so i was gonna clean up and then put the furniture back. Simple, right? Dust things, shove things. No problem.

But like. there were shelves from the bathroom stacked in the office and I realized the contents of the shelves were untouched dusty things we'd forgotten about, so I took everything off those shelves first. Had to get those sorted, and back into the bathroom, before we could rearrange the office furniture, yeah? So I sat down Saturday morning to start on that, so we could rearrange the office furniture in the afternoon.

uh it's Wednesday my dudes, and I'm still working on that. It turns out there were depths of despair there and in the linen closet, things untouched for a decade, silted-in. I found jewelry I took off while traveling in 2012 and left in the travel toiletries organizer, and then have spent a decade looking for and pining after and trying unsuccessfully to replace. I found a very sentimental ring in a ziploc baggie in a box, lost for at least nine years. I found countless cosmetics and toiletries that dated back as far as 1998. (I haven't quite thown out that lipstick I used to wear clubbing and for sloppy lesbian makeouts in bathrooms in Edinburgh. It's no good anymore and it has to go, but. Oh man. That was this lifetime and that was me. Really???? I never did figure out how to wear lipstick without it looking really stupid after the first drink/kiss etc, I don't think there's actually a trick I just think everyone else is more patient with reapplications than my ronald mcdonald ass.)

I went out yesterday, big outing in my new car, and bought new storage bins, hopefully to corral and sort things. But it turns out my personal brain holes are myriad and vast and deep when it comes specifically to sorting and categorizing items. It's tiny decisions I simply lack the capacity to make. Every single item I pull out and try to sort into a pile and I wind up with not discrete piles of categories, but rather a single flat layer across the entire surface, with each object in its own pile because I do not know how to sort it.

And I know what happens if I sort things into a cute storage basket: it will sit there, untouched, until some calamity makes me haul the entire thing out and upend it.

So, I don't really know what to do, and I have achieved nothing else of note in the last four days. I have made an unholy mess of the office, where the furniture is still stacked, unusable, against the non-window wall, and now the floor is covered in shit. I've hauled out two big trashbags (ok, one big and one small trashbag) of things that are unequivocally expired and unusable, things I well-meaningly filed in the memory hole in 2012 or so when I bought that shelf and then never touched again, things I've just learned to do without, forgetting I owned them.

So anyway I'll probably die here, RIP.

But at least I got to use the nifty cargo net that came with my new car to hold the overpriced clear plastic storage bins I bought at TJ Maxx in place in the trunk of my beautiful new car, so that's now going to get filed and never used again but at least I used it once. It's so fancy! Bye.

[justmeinadaze]

Playing the Game Part 2 (Steve X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I need you to know that I dream about this story lol Joe Keery invaded my dreams and now I can't stop! I'm not complaining, I'm just saying. Seriously y'all, thank you for all the comments and reading <3. You're amazing and beautiful, each and everyone of you!

Warnings: Daddy/Dom Harrington and all that that implies ( I regret nothing). Reader does express some shaky past experiences but its fleeting. I may dive more into that later but no sey.

Word Count: 3382

When Steve showed up for his shift at Family Video, he was surprised to see Robin but not your car. He thought with her having it and you coming to get it, it would give him a chance to talk to you again. 

“Hey Robin. Where is Y/N car?”

“Why, hello Steve. It is good to see you on this beautiful morning as well.”

Steve squints his eyes in a sarcastic glare and responds with a wave in her direction making her laugh. “She came by and picked it up about an hour ago before her shift started.” He makes his way around and props himself up on the counter. 

“You know where she works?”

Robin turns and gives Steve a questioning look. “Why?”

“What? I’m just curious. Don’t look at me like that!” he says in a sassy tone as he points to her face. 

“Oh my god. You like her!” Steve playfully rolls his eyes. “No, no, no. That’s perfect. She needs a good dude in her life for once. Dating wise I mean. She spends a lot of time around Eddie but my understanding is they are just friends.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘she spends a lot of time around Eddie’?” 

“You know that comic bookstore about 3 blocks up the way? She’s been the manager there for about 3 years now. Since Eddie graduated, he does the whole D & D thing there.”

Steve starred at her in disbelief. You had been so close this entire time and he had no idea. You hung out and were friends with at least 2 people he spent a good amount of time with. How had he never met you before?

“Yes.” Robin said suddenly breaking him out of his thoughtful haze. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled at his confused face. “Yes, I will watch the store so you can go talk to her. You’d do the same for me.” Steve pulled Robin in for hug. “Yeah, yeah, yeah now go. BY THE WAY IF YOU HURT HER I WILL KILL YOU!” She shouted after him as he ran out the front door. 

His feet didn’t stop till he was just outside your store. He paused, checking his reflection in the window next door, giving his hair a quick run through before stepping inside. It was a big place, jam packed with wall-to-wall comics. Near the back, Steve noticed some costumes hanging on a rack as well and some figurines on a shelf. He could hear men shouting from somewhere in the building but other than that it was quiet. To be fair, the video store was quiet to with it being a Monday. 

“Holy shit, is that Harrington!?” Eddie Munson shouts at him from his spot near the glass counter to the side that he was leaning over. 

“Why, I think it is.” You were sitting in a chair near the register next to Eddie with a book in your lap. A small, excited sigh escaped his lips as you smiled at him. “Are you lost, Harrington?”

Steve casually saunters to the counter and gives Eddie one of those “dude nods”. Eddie reciprocates it but cackles slightly as he turns to you. “Yeah, he may need some help.”

You giggle, lighting pushing Eddie away from your area. 

“Leave him alone. Go finish your game or whatever you guys are doing over there. I have to do inventory later so I’ll be closing early today.”

Eddie responds with a faux salute before turning on his heels and heading back to the table he and his friends were sitting at. You roll your eyes before turning your attention back to Steve.

“I see Robin sold me out.”

“Disappointed?” He asks as he leans his elbows on to the counter allowing him to be a bit more level with you. 

“A little.” You grin at him as you place down your own elbows, leaning forward. Your face is a few inches away from his. You inhale the smell of his cologne and the scent of outside that clung to him from his walk over. 

Steve reaches over taking one of your small hands in his. He delicately slides up your sweater exposing your wrist. The feel of him gently caressing your skin with his thumb makes you let out a tiny whimper that only he can hear. His next words come out low and husky. “I just wanted to come and see how you were doing.”

You bite your bottom lip and smile, leaning a bit closer to him. “I think you just wanted to see if I really worked here since I’m only…what…a few blocks away from Family Video.” His eyes lifted to meet yours as you cocked your head to the side. “Oh yeah. I knew you worked there.” You lean past him so your cheek is on his as your whisper, “I really was invisible. Huh, Daddy?”

When you pull back, your sarcastic smirk is met with fire burning through his eyes. He didn’t like being called out. As you try to pull your hand away, you feel him tighten his grip. “I guess I should be grateful that ‘King Steve’ is showing me attention now.” You smirk turns into a thin line as you glare into his eyes.

Steve’s jaw tightens as he looks away in the void. He loosens his hold on you but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he opens his other palm, silently asking you to trust him and to his slight surprise you do. When your other hand is in his, he meets your eyes again, except this time they reflect sincerity. 

“I know I wasn’t the best guy back in high school. I wanted people to like me. I wanted my dad to be proud of me. I wanted to be somebody I wasn’t. I’d like to think that I’m a better person now than I was then. Trust me, Y/N even if we had been friends, you wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me.”

Your eyes are searching through his features as you listen to him. He releases one of your hands to hold your chin as he lightly, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “All I’m asking for is a chance for you to get to know this version of me.”

“Ay! Get a room you two!”, Eddie hollers from his seat. 

Without breaking eye contact from Steve, you shout back, “Nobody asked for you opinion, Munson!” Steve smiles as you both hear Eddie chuckle at your response. “What time do you get off, Harrington?”

“About 6.”

“I’m closing at 5 but I have to stay a couple of hours to do some inventory. Would you like to keep me company?” He nods as he let’s go of your hands. “Now you better get back before Robin has a panic attack.” You make a shooing motion with your hands as he winks at you. You watch him as he runs out the door and up the street.

#####################################################

At 6:15 you hear a light knock at the front of the door. You grin at Steve as you half jog over to him and unlock the door. “Hey, how was work?”

“Uh, good. Pretty slow especially with me checking the clock every 10 minutes.” He follows you as you both head towards a room in the back of the store.

“Aw, did Daddy miss me?” You tone playfully mocking him as you look down to shuffle through your keys. He didn’t respond but his cock definitely twitched in his pants. You didn’t know it but that was his kryptonite. Every time you said it something inside of him went almost feral. He’d learn your weakness soon enough. There hadto be something that just drove you insane in the best possible way.

You opened the door to some kind of storage closet and turned on the light. “Since we were slow, I was able run through the store pretty quickly especially without Eddie and Dustin distracting me.”

“Henderson comes here to?!”

“Oh yeah, Harrington. I’m actually surprised he didn’t tell you that. Kid, never shuts up about you.”

“I’m not really into his game so that’s more Munson’s territory.” He glances around the room taking in everything. You sit on a stool on the floor and cut open a box in front of you. 

“I just have this one container. We didn’t get a whole lot in this time around.”

Steve sits on the floor across from you and pulls a comic out to take a look. “Why is a that?”

“I think it has something to do with people still feeling like things like Dungeons and Dragons and comics are more for children. Hawkins isn’t exactly an open-minded town.” You smile at him as you watch him flip casually through the comic in hand with a bewildered, concentrated look on his face. “You’d like that one.”

He glances at you before looking back it. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s about a boy who spites his villain father by becoming a vigilante and hunts down his men.” Steve makes a huh sound as his fingers move slower through the pages. “You can take it if you want. You just have to bring it back and DON’T tell Eddie. Last time I let him borrow something it came back stained with God knows what so now he’s banned.” 

You both sit in a comfortable silence while he watches you look through the box of goodies and make markings on a clipboard you’re holding. You had taken off your sweater and tied around your waist. Your Batman logo t-shirt was pressed tightly against your breasts and thick tummy. Your blue jeans had a rip near the knee and there was some writing in black marker “Hellfire” with a crudely drawn devil underneath is scrawled across your outer thigh and a couple names Steve recognizes are displayed underneath. His fingers reach out and trace along them. 

“Yeah”, you adjust your leg so he can get a better look. “Eddie can never seem to sit still for too long so he did that one day. Then, of course, the other boys felt like they had add their input. I have another pair that say ‘Corroded Coffin’ on the calf.”

“So… its normal for guys to touch your legs?” Steve asks with that edge that made your head tilt and the brat start to slowly bubble forward. This was your favorite part of this game. Unfortunately, it never unfolded the way you wanted it to mostly because you ALWAYS won and even worse a lot of the men you tried to play with let you win thinking that’s what you wanted. You had yet to meet a worthy contender to really challenge you.

“People I’ve known and trusted since I was 15, yes.” You push the container in front of you to the side with your foot and slide off the stool you’re sitting on to the floor, place your legs out in front of you near his own. “Now anyone else? I prefer they leave markings on my legs in a different way.” Oh, the way that fire from earlier ignited in his eyes again at the thought of any man touching you like that reached through you straight to your core. You shifted up on your knees and glided closer to his side. In the most condescending voice you could muster you kept pushing him. “Uh oh. Is Stevie jealous?”

His hand shoots out and roughly grabs your throat making you gasp. He watched your face as your eyes closed and your lips trembled as you gulped in small pockets of air. After a few seconds, he loosened his grasp on your neck. You reached forward, placing your palm on the bulge between his legs and he growled in response. Steve pulled on your neck, moving you forward until you were hovering just inches from his face. 

“I don’t remember saying you could touch me.”

“I don’t remember asking.” You whispered against his lips as a slowly creeping grin spread across your face. “Feels like you don’t seem to mind either.” Your hand starts rubbing against him. He grabs your hand and an almost villainous laugh echoes through the room as he shoves you away from him and you fall back on your butt. Steve wastes no time climbing on top of you and pins your wrists down against the tile floor.

“I feel like you’re forgetting who’s in charge in this dynamic. You seem to think you can talk your way into getting me to do whatever you want.” You try and push at his hands as he talks over you but it’s no use. He’s too strong and as if to prove that point, he lifts your arms over your head, shifting your wrists so he can pin them down with one hand as the other comes to grab your face. “Now, let’s try again.”

He stares down at you waiting for you to speak. He watches as your jaw tightens into almost a toddler pout. “I can wait here all night. I have nowhere to be.”

You scoff at him. “Doesn’t surprise me.” He gives you an angry yet amused look. Steve rolls to the side of you, forcefully untying your sweater from your hips, and slides down your pants to your ankles. You let out moan when you feel his index finger slide between your folds. 

“For someone who talks back a lot you are extremely wet. Hmmm.” He looks down at you as his finger starts circling over your clit. “So, you want someone to be in charge but you can’t submit without a fight?” Suddenly, his strong hand comes down and smacks your pussy making you jump. “I can work with that.” Steve leans over you again with his lip hovering just above yours. “Let’s try again.”

You glare into his eyes but he can see you’re starting to slowly lose the battle. God, you were gorgeous like this. He smacks your pussy again grazing your clit and your whole body pushes against up against him. He smiles as he watches you squirm. You lean up trying to capture his lips in yours but he pulls away making you whine. 

“Please”, you whimper.

His hand comes down, slapping you a bit harder. “Please what?”

“Please, let me touch you.”

He slaps you so hard against your clit that your hips fly upwards and twist towards him. “Louder.”

“Please! I want to touch you. I want to feel your body, sir! Please!” 

The addition of “sir” was new and he didn’t mind it. Daddy or sir, he didn’t care which one you used as long as you understood that he was in charge in that moment. Steve released his grip on your wrists and took hold of your waist, lifting you up on to his lap. You reached down between you both and quickly undid his belt as he helped by raising his hips to shove down his pants and boxers. You inhaled slightly at the sight of his cock. He was bigger than you expected him to be. You felt his hands push your hair back out of your face as he leaned his forehead on yours. 

“Hey”, he whispers as his fingers come down to caress your cheeks. “You can take it. I know my good girl can handle a cock like mine. Go as slow as you need to. I have all night remember? There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

You reach between your legs and gather some of the slick along your hand. Steve moans as your rub it up and down his length for lubrication. You lift yourself up and inch by inch descend on to him. He watches your face as it scrunches in pleasure; your mouth opening to form a silent O. You two sit like that for a while as Steve’s hands roam your beautifully chunky curves and soft skin. 

“Can I--?”, you exhale out, your eyes squeeze shut in concentration.

“Can you what, Baby? Look at me.”

Your eyes flutter open and Steve notices they are blown out with excitement. “Can I move, please?” His cock twitches inside of you as you ask for his permission. 

“Yes, baby girl. You can move. Thank you for asking.” He grabs the back of your neck lightly as he pulls you in for a kiss. Both of you moan into each other as you start grinding your hips against him. 

You lean your head against his shoulder as your arms wrap around his neck. “F-fuck, you feel so good inside of me. Going so deep, Daddy. Aagh!” You cry out as Steve thrusts up against you as you use the title he loves. You repeat it in his ear over and over followed with praises about how good he feels. The rough sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears. 

“Yes. Just like that, Steve. Can I cum? Please!”

His hands grip your waist as he holds you still to aggressively pound himself into you. He feels your pussy clench around his cock. “Yeah, baby. You can cum. I’m gonna cum with you. Should I pull—”

“No. Pill. On pill.”, is all you can manage to get out as you see the blinding white light clouds your vision as you cum hard shuddering against his chest. Steve does cum a few seconds after you, grunting in your ear as you feel him empty himself inside of you.

You carefully lift your body off of him and lay flat on your stomach against the tile floor. The cold contrast now feels good against your sweaty face. You hear the clinking of Steve’s belt as he shuffles around. His handsome face comes into your field of view as he lays down beside you, cheek pressed flat into the floor. He gently smiles as you, sliding his hand over to hold yours by your side. 

His eyes look dramatically around. “This floor is clean right?” Your body jiggles as you laugh at him and his smile grows. 

“Well, I do the cleaning so I guess it’s more of a question of do you trust me?”

You both quietly look at each other then. The question of trust hanging in the air. Steve slides himself a little closer to you. “I trust you… I’m not saying I’d eat off the floor but”, you giggle at him again as you watch him push himself up onto his elbows. His smile faulters slightly as he looks down at the ground. “Do you trust me?”

“How much as Robin told you about me, Steve?”

“Not much. She just said you worked here and that you deserved a nice guy. She also threatened my life if I hurt you.”

That makes you smile. “Sometimes I wish I was into girls. I would marry that woman in a heartbeat.” He chuckles as he lays his head on the back of his hands. You roll on to your side, facing him. “I’ve been hurt before Steve. Like really bad. But…” You reach out and run your hand through his hair and down to his back. “I don’t know what this is but I do trust you.” You lay flat on your back and use both hands to turn his head to face you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Steve places a soft kiss on your lips that slow builds to something more passionate. “So”, he says when he finally manages to pull away. “Would you like to go get some food? It can be my thank you for you taking me home.” You press your lips together as you look up at him confused. “Yeah, I forgot to mention, I walked over here and Robin has my car.”

“Oh my god, Harrington. We need to find that girl a car.” You look at those hopeful brown eyes as he waits for your answer. “Ugh, fine! But I choose the restaurant.”

He nods his head as he reaches for you helping you both rise to your feet. Steve pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head. 

“Good girl.” ########################

@eddiethesexy @sammy-is-not-smiley Requested to be tagged :)

[cr-noble-writes]

Title: Argonauts Series: Odyssey Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Explicit Characters: Alex Shepard, ME1 Ensemble, Aria T'Loak, Minah Atruzea Relationships: mShenko Tags: ME1 timeline, minor character death, canon typical violence, nightmares, male Shepard, Sole Survivor Shepard, custom background, paragade Shepard

Summary: Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani crosses a line, Alex gets a new living space on the Normandy, and Kaidan makes a friend.

Notes: Shoutout to my beta, who by some miracle made it so I could still post today despite the fact that I sent over the chapter today after forgetting that this week was posting week. You're awesome, and I appreciate the hell out of you! It's been a time y'all.

Start at the beginning Read latest chapter

Excerpt:

At least it’s quiet when he steps off the elevator. He takes the few steps to his door, and his hand is already raised to the access panel when he remembers the XO’s quarters are no longer his. Ambassador Udina had tersely informed him that his personal belongings had already been moved.

It’s not the biggest invasion of privacy he’s experienced today, but it’s enough that whatever anxiety he’d managed to shake once again sits in the pit of his stomach like a lead weight. With a sigh, Alex lets his hand drop to his side and makes his way to his new home on the Normandy.

The Captain’s cabin is easily twice the size of the XO’s, split into an office and living quarters with a door between them. The office is austere and built to familiar Alliance specifications. The desk is built into the right wall beneath a few bare shelves. The wall ahead has an inset bookcase, which is also empty. The few print books Alex owns, and his stack of Justicar comics will never fill the space, contained as they are by a single box that sits on the desk next to a pile of datapads.

When this was Anderson’s office, the space had been used to its fullest. Alex unpacks the small, plastic container, and the contents don’t even cover a whole shelf. He slides the empty box under a corner of the desk and steps into the living quarters. Spartan as they are, they’re almost luxurious compared to what he’s gotten used to. There’s a double bed against the back wall with a night stand beside it, a large, inset armoire, which presumably already holds his clothes, a small round table with two chairs bolted to the floor, and another desk with a private terminal.

Alex’s eyes catch on the table. Sitting in its center is a scale model of Arcturus Station. During the year he’d spent training for his N7 commendation, Anderson had insisted that he, Alex, and Riley build the model together as a team bonding exercise. Between assignments and other parts of their duties, the three of them would gather at a table in the mess to work on it. It had been painstaking work, but it had effectively done exactly what Anderson intended. A year’s worth of memories, good and bad, stored in plastic pieces that weren’t all fit together perfectly and a paint job that left a lot to be desired. It would never be a work of masterful craftsmanship, and Alex would never admit it to Anderson, but he was proud of their shoddy little model of Arcturus.

[moon-heart22]

Captured

Warning: Minors do Not interact, brutal death, killing, smut

It's strange how life can change so quickly without you even realising it.

I wanted to spend my holiday alone. I have never liked being around people, so it was only logical that I chose my grandparents' house in the middle of the forest. It was old, but it had everything I needed.

On the way there, my friend called me and asked me if I really wanted to be alone in the forest. To be honest, that might be scary for some people, but I told her I was fine and would call her if anything happened. She did not seem pleased and hung up after a while of talking.

I reached my grandparents' house and opened the front door. The door cracked as I opened it and a familiar smell hit my nose. I have missed being here so much, it feels like my grandparents are still here looking after me. It's been a year since they died mysteriously and no one knows what happened. Their bodies have never been found and there is no sign that they are really dead.

I close the door behind me and shake my head. Everything is still where it was on my last visit last year, before they disappeared. My grandmother's old books are gathering dust and I have to smile. She collected so many random books like a book dragon. Grandma read a lot, but never really because she was so anxious to get more books.

One book catches my eye. "Deities and Creatures"

I pick it up and run my fingers over the cover, which is strangely not as dusty as the other books on the shelf. I get goose bumps, but I shake off the feeling. I put the book back and concentrate on making myself comfortable.

Soon it's 9 pm and I am sitting on the couch watching TV. I used to watch TV with my grandmother, while my grandfather always complained that we should spend more time outside instead of in front of the TV. I often find myself wishing I had spent more time with them, but I can not help it now.

I get hungry and get up when I suddenly hear a loud bang from outside. A strange feeling creeps over me, but I ignore it. It must have been an animal or something else. I am in the house, I am safe. At least that's what I tell myself over and over again.

I am now standing in the kitchen eating a sandwich. I have already forgotten about the loud bang and am just concentrating on the food. A bad habit I had was eating, eating when I am feeling bad, scared, stressed…

My gaze goes to the kitchen window and I have the feeling that I am being watched. Once again I shake my head and try to shake off this strange feeling and take a deep breath. It's just nothing. Everything is fine, I am safe. I whisper to myself again and again. I decide to close the curtains on the kitchen window. My heart almost stops when I see white eyes light up, which disappear again as I get closer to the window.

I immediately draw the curtains and place my hands on my chest. My heart races and I try to think of something else, hoping it will distract me. It does not and I run to all the windows and doors to make sure they are closed. Luckily for me, they are and I take another deep breath.

Then I hear a knock and someone shouts. I feel my heart stop and the blood in my veins run cold. "Help me! Help me!" the voice screams and I hold my breath. I run back into the kitchen and grab my butcher's knife. I slowly approach the front door and my lips part, but I can not muster the strength to speak.

"Please…" the voice sounded like a man and I walk closer to the door. My heart is racing and I finally manage to speak. "Who are you? What happened to you?" my voice shakes as I speak and I hear the man inhale sharply. He seems to be injured because he is groaning in pain. "I got hurt, please help me," he sounds desperate, almost pleading.

I stand in front of the door and lean my ear against it. I do not really know what I am trying to achieve, but I listen. "I have a knife, so if you try anything or lie, you are dead," I warn him and he grunts in response. I unlock the door and open it. He rushes in and is wounded in the chest. I pull him into the house and lock the door again.

"Thanks, I thought you wouldn't open the door," he whispers and looks me in the eye. His eyes are brown and he looks dirty, as if he hasn't washed for a long time. "If you try anything stupid, I'll hurt you," I threaten and he chuckles. There are deep cuts on his arm and on his chest too. I help him to sit down on the couch, my knife still in my hand.

"You know, I'm kind of scared of you. When you hold the knife like that, I think you want to stab me," he chuckles and leans back as he closes his eyes. I still have the knife with me and go to the first aid kit. I start to clean his wounds and bandage them. "How did this happen?" I ask him and sit down on the chair opposite the couch.

He lets out a sigh and touches his arm. He licks his lips and opens his eyes again to look at me. They glow white for a brief second and then immediately turn brown again. It happens so quickly that I don't think much of it.

"I was attacked by a creature, a shame I…" he pauses before he finishes the sentence and shakes his head. He yawns and rubs his eyes. "If you don't mind, I want to sleep now," is all he says before closing his eyes and falling asleep on my couch.

I shake my head anoyed and walk to my bedroom and lock the door. I call my friend and tell her everything that happend today. "You're crazy no way i am letting you alone! I come and get you," she says and stops the call before i can say anything.

I try to sleep, but I can't because I hear a loud crash from the kitchen. I immediately sit up in my bed and look for the butcher's knife. Crap. When I went into my bedroom, I must have forgotten to take it with me. I reach for my phone, unlock my bedroom door and walk into the kitchen.

I hear growling and as I leave, the floor cracks and the growling stops immediately. I freeze and listen, my heart races in my chest and I hold my breath. When I finally pluck up the courage to go into the kitchen, I see the strange man standing there. He's smiling at me, his mouth is full of sauce and he's holding a sausage in his hand.

"What the hell! You scared the shit out of me, you ass!" I shout angrily and try to snatch the sausage out of his hand. He backs away and barks at me. His teeth seem strangely sharp and I pause in my movements. "I was hungry … and don't call me an ass. Call me Adrian," he growls strangely and I look at him angrily.

I want to throw him out of the house, but when I look at him, I feel sorry for him. He looks like he's in pain and seems out of his mind. "Listen Adrian, this is weird, don't get me wrong, but you're scaring me. Could you please sit on the table. I don't mind if you finish eating. But please ask me before you take any food out of the fridge," I say, holding my nose.

I am tired and when Adrian sits down and chews on the sausage like a wild animal, I am disgusted. He seems to have no manners at all and I feel not safe in his presence. I look at the fridge and the next shock runs through me. He really has rummaged through the whole fridge. There's a lot of food on the floor and I sigh. I go into the kitchen and start to tidy everything up.

When I am done, I take a wet cloth and walk towards Adrian. He's still busy eating and startles me. It's as if I am not even here. As I approach him, he finally seems to notice me and looks up. His eyes meet mine and a scream catches in my throat. His eyes are white, his teeth are razor-sharp and instead of fingers he now has claws.

Just at that moment, I hear a loud knock on my door. "Hello, open the door! I swear to God, I will break the door if you do not open it!" my friend shouts. Adrian growls and warns me not to open the door. But I am scared and the first thing I do is run. I run to the door, open it and jump into my friend's arms.

"We have to go!" I shout, grab her hand and run to her car. My friend follows me without complaining and she starts screaming when she sees what's running after us. I do not dare turn around, but the screams and the animalistic noises the creature makes are enough for me. We reach my friend's car and lock ourselves inside.

I feel like crying, and my friend starts crying as she tries to start the car. "We are going to die!" she screams and her car starts. I look outside and try to see where the creature is, but I can not see anything. As she drives off, we hear a loud crash and the car stops. "What was that?" she asks me, startled, and I look at her.

My friend holds my hand and I try to calm her down. "It's going to be okay," I whisper, holding back my tears. I am so scared that I can feel my heart racing in my ears. I look over her shoulder out the window and then I see it. Horns and white eyes staring straight at me. The creature's face is a skull and its claws are touching the window. I scream and my friend turns around and screams too.

The creature rips the door open and my friend and I start kicking the monster. It growls and screams angrily, grabs my friend by the foot and drags her out of the car. "No! Please!" she screams and grabs my hand, whereupon we are both pulled out. I cry and my friend starts screaming because the monster is biting her foot. "No! Let her go!" I scream and lunge at the monster. It growls and pushes me to the ground.

"If you do this again, you will be dead next," the creature growls in a strangely familiar voice. Holy shit. Of course it's Adrian. Why do I have to be so stupid and let monsters into my house. I will think about it later, if I get out of here alive. I kick Adrian, or at least I think I do, I am not sure, and he growls again.

"Die you sick fuck!" I hear my friend scream and she hits him in the face with a stone. His skull makes a cracking sound and he gets off of me, only to attack my friend and bite into her throat. I see her trying to free herself and she crys. Then he rips of her head. "No! You bastard", i scream and run towards him punching his back.

He growls again and pushes me down on the ground. Blood drips down on my face from his skull and he opens his mouth. A bloodied tongue darting out and licking of the blood from my face. I already feel dead. I wish he would kill me and end this fucking horror show but he doesn't. He smiles down at me when he cleaned my face.

"Get up. Go back into the house", he demands and gets of off me. I crawl away and see him starting to eat my friend. "No!", i scream and want to throw up. He turns around and looks angry at me. "I wouldn't say it again", he warns me. I cry and somehow make it back to the house. I feel so sick and throw up on the porch.

I cry and all i want to do now is to die. How could this happen. I think about Adrian or whatever he is eating my friend right now and i nearly vomit again. Something inside me starts to burn and i guess it's anger. I get up my legs shaking and i lock the door behind me. I am going to killl this fucking creature. I search for the butcher knife and while i do i hear loud knocking comming from the front door.

"Open up little mouse," Adrian growls. He sounds angry. Well i am also angry. I don't answer and the knocks turn into banging. "Open the fucking door! Don't make me more angry mouse," he warns me. I find my butcher knife and get to the door. "No, please don't be angry. I...will open the door," i whisper and hold my butcher knife up. I only have one change and i don't give a shit anymore.

Adrian sounds happy and probably thinks he has wone. When i open the door, he is normal human looking but covered in blood. I scream and stab him with the knife. He screams and pushes me into the house. "That was a mistake little one," he growls and changes. Horns and a skull are now there instead of his face and instead of his fingers claws.

He pulls the knife out of his chest and throws it to the ground. I try to get up but he is faster and pushes me down. "I wanted to do this differntly but it seems like i have to teach you how to behave," he chuckles and there is a dangerous under tone in his voice. His claws travel down my curves and i automaticly clench my thighs together.

"What the fuck do you want from me," i whimper and look up into his white eyes. His horns are brown and when i look closer at him he also has white fur. Around his neck are necklaces made out of wood. His claws dig into my thighs and he presses my thighs appart and puts my legs around his waist. "I want to eat you," Adrian whispers huskily and licks over my face. I look away and start to cry wich makes him laugh.

His snout nudges against my cheek and he licks over my cheek again. "Don't worry. Not in that way," he chuckles and licks over my cheek again. He rips my pants appart and i start to kick with my feet. "No! No you're not going to touch me!," i start to scream and whimper. He holds my feet down and snarls. He bites down on my shoulder as a warning and i stop to kick around. Only then he lets go and licks over my shoulder.

"I hate you Adrian! I hope you die!," i spit into his face and he only chuckles. His claws brush over my thighs and he rips of the rest of my clothes leaving me complitly naked infront of him. "I am so glad you're grandparents were ready to promise you to me. It's not like they had a choice though," he chuckles and his one hand holds my face while his other holds my hips. He licks down my chest over my nippels and over my lower belly. Dangerously close to my crotch.

My mind races and i whimper. I try to clench my thighs together and i want to bite his hand. I hate him so much and my grandparents would never do this. They loved me right? It makes him chuckle and he starts to part my folds. "Little mouse, you have to calm down. It will hurt if i can't prepare you like i should," he whispers huskily and his long tongue licks over my core.

I hate this feeling and it only seems to incite him even more. I hold my mouth closed to not make any sounds but my body betrays me. I feel my legs twitch and my core getting wet. I feel dead inside and want this to be over. Adrian growls happily while abusing my pussy with his tongue. My hatred for him only grows and i am not even sure if i am really here. I start to think like this is a nightmare.

He gently bites down on my clit and i whimper. "Did that hurt little mouse?," he ask sarcastically and his tongue pushes into me. I scream and start to fight back again. I feel my climax aproaching and my head is spinning. My hands grab his horns and he groans. My legs shake uncontrollaby and i reach my climax. He licks me clean and moves up to face me again. "Didn't that feel good my little mouse," he asks me and i feel his bulge pressing against me.

I feel so weak, so tired. When i don't respond to him he nudges me with his snout. "Did i make you cum so hard that you're tired now? Well i guess i let you sleep for now," he whispers and pulls me up and presses me against him. Adrian carries me to my bedroom and lays me down on the bed. He licks over the bite mark on my shoulder and smiles. The last thing that i see before i fall asleep are his brown eyes that look into mine and the last thing that i feel is him strocking my cheek.

I hope you enjoyed the story. I don't know if I can do a second part and please forgive me for my spelling mistakes. English is not my first language

[ironmanfridgemagnet]

Sitting On The Shelf - Marcus White x Reader

Part 40 - Christmas Eve

SOTS Masterlist

"Wait, so, tell me it again." Jonah pleaded, his arms folded and pressed against the side of the customer service counter, doing his best to stare you down where you sat on the countertop next to Garrett. "Please. It's the least you could do."

"Dude, come on, don't you think you've heard it enough yet?" Garrett asked, turning to face Jonah with a frown deeply settled on his face, almost as sick of hearing the story as you were of telling it. "Cut my poor doll face some slack."

"Come on, J." You pleaded in return, turning to him with clasped hands and a pout on your lips.

"No." Jonah walked around the counter top, coming to your side and knocking into your shoulder with his own. "Your eternal apology is to tell me the story whenever I want to hear it."

Letting out a loud groan, you threw your head back exasperatedly. Of course Jonah would somehow find a way to try and forever punish you for your lack of communication one time.

"Like I said the last 12 times, i pushed you into the bathroom and I went into the other one. Marcus came in and offered to help me clean up, and one thing led to another." Jonah urged you to go on, not taking your short lived explanation as a fulfilling enough story. "He told me he was really scared when he thought Kelly 'stabbed' me, and that it made him think about all the things he didn't get to say to me. And then we kissed."

"And they all lived happily ever after." Garrett concluded, rolling his eyes at Jonah who seemed completely enamoured in the re-kindling of your love life. "Can we be done now?"

"No. I need more." Jonah teased, nudging your shoulder with his own yet again as he pushed and prodded for more details about what happened that night and how you and Marcus got together again.

"That's the whole story." You hummed, jumping off the counter and moving to stand opposite your two boys. "Besides, I called him my boyfriend in our fake murder skit. I guess neither of you noticed."

"Wait what?" Garrett tuned back into the conversation with renewed intrigue, his mouth agape. "You called him your boyfriend before you ever went to the bathroom?"

"Well, yeah. We've been dancing around it since Emma's first-"

"-and last-"

"-day here. You were literally there Jonah!"

"Oh. I didn't like that." Jonah frowned, wincing away from you as his arms folded across his chest. "I don't remember the last time you called me anything but J."

"Well, J, my point stands." Jonah's frown quirked up into a smile as you corrected yourself, his entire demeanour softening. "You've been there for practically every time we've interacted in the store over the past few weeks. Anything you missed, you missed on your own accord."

Jonah's eyes left yours, his gaze moving intently to the floor as he recounted every interaction he'd seen between the two of you over the last few weeks, and damn it you'd been right - he'd been there for a lot of what happened. He even gone as far as to - several times - tell you he was sure Marcus still liked you. How could he have forgot?

"Lets just hope he doesn't start asking about trivia night." Garrett joked, however your face paled as you realised that was one event he hadn't been there for that had happened.

"When did I even fill you in on that?" You turned to Garrett with a harsh whisper, unnerved by his knowledge and they way he'd brought up yet another story you'd have to tell Jonah 10 million times.

"I have eyes everywhere."

"Trivia night?"

"Oh no! Look at the time!" You cried, nervous laughter bubbling past you lips in a mannerism you'd sworn you'd stolen from Cheyenne after so many years spent together. "Things aren't going to stock themselves!"

Running out from behind the counter, you headed straight for the stock room in hopes you'd find something to hide behind or busy yourself with enough that Jonah would leave you alone.

"What happened at trivia night?" Jonah asked, following you out of the customer service desk as soon as he'd noticed you were trying to run away from his line of questioning. "What happened? You have to tell me! It's all I want for Christmas! Peach!"

————————————————————————

"Come on, I don't know if it's a bulb or a stripped wire." Glenn whined, passing out heat another set of Christmas lights for the group of you to untangle.

Glenn had gathered as many of you as he could find to help him in his efforts to sort through the stores collection of Christmas lights, even though it was Christmas Eve and he'd never be able to do anything worthwhile with them now. So far this morning, you'd worked through 2 sets yourself and 3 more between you and Jonah, so you'd call it a pretty successful day.

"Glenn, you've been trying for two months to solve this problem." Amy sighed, placing down the string of lights she'd been working her way through for the past 20 minutes. "I really don't think you're gonna crack it on Christmas Eve."

General hums of agreement came from the crowd that had formed to aid Glenn's effort. Mateo folded his arms across his chest, avoiding taking on another set of lights to untangle. "My grandmother would kill me for saying this, but I just don't get why people make such a big deal out of Christmas."

Loud gasps of hurt and betrayal could be heard from all around, your own particularly loud and hurt, the string of lights you'd been feeding through to Jonah coming to a halt as your glared down Mateo. "What? How can you not love Christmas?"

"Yeah, Mateo." Jonah confirmed, looking up at you with a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced on his last Christmas here in St Louis. "Christmas is the best."

"I mean real talk, Christmas is pretty disappointing and over-hyped. It's kind of like "Star Wars."" Yet another controversial opinion had just slipped past Mateo's lips and it wasn't even 8am yet - today was going to be a long day.

Even Dina seemed hurt by Mateo's generally wrong opinions, a gasp elicited from her mouth and a frown settling on her lips. "You don't like "Star Wars"?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Can we just one-at-a-time this? It's not about a day. It's about looking back on the year we shared and celebrating it." Glenn whined, a deep frown settling on his face as he looked over the group for support in his claim.

"Yeah, let's celebrate the year a tornado hit the store." Dina scoffed, also halting in her efforts to untangle the lights though you were fairy surprised she'd offered to help in the first place.

"My entire apartment got destroyed and I lived with y/n for like half the year." Smacking the back of your hand into Jonah's chest, you turned to him with a glare. "Only the destroyed apartment was bad, though."

"I got a really annoying roommate, and he won't leave." Garrett said next, contradicting Jonah's previous claim of having a good time living with you. You couldn't imagine Garrett's experience living with Jonah was as bad as he was making it seem, not when you'd had such a good time living with him earlier in the year.

"I got a divorce."

"I lost my boyfriend for half the year." Boyfriend. It had a nice ring to it when you said it about Marcus. And though you'd not really discussed whether he was officially your boyfriend or you guys were just 'together' again, it didn't really matter to you, you were just happy to have him back.

"My boyfriend wound up in a coma."

It seemed like a generally bad year for relationships in the store, now that you thought about it.

"I am looking for a place." Jonah threw his arms out, letting the string of fairy lights fall into his lap as he spoke to Garrett, his voice filled with exasperation.

Garrett scoffed, looking away from the brunette with a quite mutter. "Not looking hard enough."

"It's just a sucky year."

"The doctors aren't sure if he'll ever even..."

Glenn quickly moved on from the topic, reaching his hand out towards Cheyenne softly and moving his fingers in a grabbing motion. "Cheyenne, can I have the voltage tester, please?"

Amy was the next to set her lights down as she spoke, no one being able to do both tasks at the same time apparently. Feeding another untangled line of lights to Jonah, you listened mindlessly to the conversation before you. "But I do have to say I'm looking forward to next year. I really feel like it's time to just start living life. You know? Like, I don't know. I feel like I can get wilder."

"Oh, God. You're not gonna cut your hair again, are you?" Mateo cringed, thinking back to the in store haircut Amy had received from Cheyenne just before the tornado. You much preferred the short hair, finding it framed Amy's face nicely, and you'd never be opposed to helping her cut it again.

"No. I mean, maybe. I don't know. I just mean, like finally taking those motorcycle lessons, or skydiving, or like, maybe I'll get a tattoo." Amy wooed, picking up the chain of lights again and going back to untangle them.

Cheyenne let out a low chuckle. "There's just no way you're doing any of that."

Amy responded with her own chuckle, denying any doubt the rest of you seemed to have in her belief that this would be her year to be crazy. "I'm serious. I, I'm going to unleash crazy Amy. You guys can call me "Craymie.""

Letting your head fall into your hands, you ran a hand across your face. As much as you loved Amy, 'craymie' was already too much for you. "Uh, no thanks."

As Amy began to start a chant of her newfound name, no one else joined in, leaving her arms to fall back to her side in defeat. "Amy, Craymie. All right, well that was just a idea."

"Feels forced."

————————————————————————

"And then another time, I thought Jerry came out of his coma and winked at me, but turns out, it was just a muscle spasm from low folic acid."

A few of you had gathered around the stand of hot cocoa Glenn had set up in the middle of the store, the unusually quiet Christmas Eve shift giving you the opportunity to catch up with your coworkers and get a glimpse into their Christmas plans.

Dina scoffed at Sandra's recap of her most recent hospital visit, clearly finding something wrong with whatever she'd said. "Did you check the twitch for Morse Code? He could have been telling you to stop talking, or it's possible he's in so much pain, he's just begging anyone to pull the plug." After another moment deep in thought she seemed to come to a solid conclusion. "I think that's what it was."

Before you could comfort Sandra with a reminder that it was very unlikely to be that and was probably a sign he was getting better and closer to waking up, Amy came running over - Marcus and Corey in tow with a bottle of whiskey in her hands. "Yo, yo, yo. Cheer up, losers! It's Christmas!"

Everyone moved closer to her as she pulled the lid off of the thermos and opened the bottle of whiskey, pouring it into the hot chocolate Glenn had made. "What are you doing?"

"Turning this into a par-tay." Amy whooped, continuing to pour the warm, brown liquid into the cocoa until only a 1/3 remained in the bottle.

"I have ecstasy in my car." Cheyenne excitedly added, already reaching into her Jean pocket in search of her car keys.

Amy paused, shocked by the sudden offering of ecstasy but quickly regained her composure, shaking her head gently at Cheyenne. "We'll start here and then see where the day takes us. Spread the word, bitches. Craymie in the house!"

Linking your non hot cocoa holding arm through Cheyenne's you pulled her close enough that you could whisper in her ear. "We'll see where the night goes, chey." The blonde looked at you with a bright smile, knocking her forehead against yours. "And if it goes nowhere, me and you can always slip out and have some fun.

The pair of you burst into laughter, approaching Amy with your cups of hot cocoa outstretched so she could pour some of the whiskey that remained in the bottle into your already filled cups.

"Yeah, go, Craymie! Go, Craymie! Craymie is here!" Marcus chanted, Corey quickly joining in before they paused, a looked of confusion crossing their face.

"Who's Craymie?"

Marcus then paused his own chant, lowering his fist as confusion took over his features. "I don't, uh...I don't know."

"Hey, you." Slipping out of Cheyenne's hold, you made your way over to Marcus, grabbing one of his hands in you own and allowing him to pull you into his chest. "How's you're shift going?"

"Better now you're here." He hummed, a smirk curling on his lips as he leaned down and connected them with your own in a quick peck. The speed of the action hadn't been enough to stop Mateo shouting at the two of you to 'get a room,' however.

"How about some hot cocoa, hmm."

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You were tucked under Marcus's arm, one of his hands wrapped around your waist while the other poured beer into each one of the cups before him. Letting your head fall against his chest, you watched as Justine did the same at the other end of the table.

"So what you're going to want to do." Marcus whispered into your ear, making sure you heard him over the general chatter of everyone who had gathered around the hot cocoa stall. "Is throw the ball gently, overarm, and aim it directly for one of the cups. In the middle is better, cause if you kiss it'll fall into one of the nearby ones."

Marcus placed the little, orange ping-pong ball in the palm of your hand, cupping your hand in his and guiding it gently into the air. He pulled your hand back slightly, then as he moved it forward, commanded you to let it go - the ball flying forward and straight into justices central cup.

"There we go!" Marcus cheered, wrapping both his arms around you from behind and squeezing you against him. "Easy peasy, right?"

"Right." You whispered, looking up at Marcus, your face flushed. Standing on the tips of your toes, you pressed a kiss to his jaw, not caring that you'd missed his lips, making it his turn to turn pink in the face.

"No, you guys, I'm serious." Amy demanded, her words attracting the attention of anyone who hadn't previously been listening in to what she was saying. "I used to, like, shoplift bulk candy and, like run, and one time I stole a car."

General disbelief ran through the group, mumblings of how out of character that was for Amy travelling the group but not quiet reaching your ears. If your brain wasn't so clouded with alcohol and the feeling of Marcus's arms around you, maybe you would've remeber we when Adam had told you the story when you first moved in.

"No you guys, I did." Amy insisted, standing from her seat with a smile on her face, thinking back on her high school days with a fondness you'd not seen in her in a while. "It was 10th grade. I took my math teacher's Kia, drove it to the Burger King, got some French toast sticks, and then I just left it there like, bounced."

Mateo scoffed at her explanation, rolling his eyes as he shuffled in his camping chair. "The French toast sticks were a little too specific. But nice try."

Cheyenne was next to agree, still in disbelief that Amy would do something of the sort. "Yeah, you would never do that."

"No, I did do that. You know what? I could call Adam." Amy insisted, determined to prove that she had been the so called 'craymie' in her high school days that she was trying to be again now. "He'll tell you the whole story."

"All right. Call him." Marcus countered, his words vibrating through his chest and into your back, your fingers moving to intertwine with his as you continued to stand by the ping-pong table.

"Okay. I will. And then we'll see who's crazy."

The call was answered on the third ring, Amy barely getting passed a 'hello' before she could here shuffling on the other side of the phone - Adam shushing someone before returning to Amy's question.

"Who was that?" Amy asked, words quieter then they had been in a minute, her gaze intent upon her phone screen.

"Uh, that's, uh, that's Bridgett. Emma's friend Crystal's Mom." Though you weren't mad at Adam for moving on, you found it insufferable that this was how he was letting Amy find out. He could've at least sent a text out of politeness so that this wouldn't happen.

"Wait, Crystal's over? I thought Emma was away."

"No, I'm at her place. Um, what did you want?"

Amy was stunned into silence, her mouth hung agape as she bore her eyes into the phone screen. "Nothing." She rushed out, moving to hang up the call despite the fact she'd not got what she'd asked for. "Merry Christmas."

"Ha ha. Chickened out. Couldn't even ask about the car." Marcus laughed, completely having missed what just happened despite the fact that everyone else was staring at her in stunned silence. He raised his arm, having gently pulled the ping pong ball from your hands, and thrown it directly into one of Justine's back row cups. "Boom!"

You congratulated him on his win with a pat to his chest, slipping out from his hold and making your way over to Amy with open arms that she easily fell into.

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You, Amy and Cheyenne had crammed yourselves around one of the computers in electronics, all staring intently at the computer screen with Bridgette's Facebook page loaded on it.

Dina appeared beside you, a notepad in one hand and her drink in the other. "Well, I've come up with my New Year's resolutions. More birds, more sex, more judo." All Dina appropriate resolutions, you thought. You hadn't even started to think about what yours were going to be - but if you had to guess a large amount of them would include spending more time with Marcus. "And I'm gonna try to pepper, "Yas, queen," into conversation more I think it's time."

"We're checking out that skank that Amy's ex-husband is sleeping with." Cheyenne explained the situation to Dina, her eyes unmoving from the screen as she did.

Dina moved to stand beside you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder so that she could squeeze in close and get the best possible view of the screen.

"No, uh-uh. We don't know that they're sleeping together. There's a lot of reasons he could be at that skank's house." Amy stopped scrolling when she landed on a particular picture of the girl Adam was seeing, the three of you bitterly ogling the photo. "Oh, there she is. Always, like, lurking around, waiting for a dad to come on the market."

"Yeah, she's so...basic." You'd wanted to say hot, unable to tear your eyes away from the stunning bikini photo, but for Amy, you'd lie. Hearing you thought she was good looking wasn't exactly what she needed to hear right now.

"Adam got with that? Guy's fighting above his weight class." Dina scoffed, taking another sip of you drink, nodding sincerely. "Good for him."

"I mean, it's just It's messed up." You scoffed, taking hold of the mouse and scrolling through more of the photos. Amy offered you a fill up from the bottle of alcohol she was still caring around and you took it gratefully.

"It is so messed up." Cheyenne agreed, the two of you having linked arms as the alcohol began to set in, standing becoming harder and harder.

"You know what? I'm just gonna say it. Men are from Mars. I just came up with that." The four of your cheered over Dina's new saying, finding truth in it especially when Adam was acting so skanky. You knew your dislike for him was rooted in solid foundations.

"Do you know what I feel like I should do?" Amy slurred, swaying gently from side to side as she continued to take sips of her spiked hot cocoa. "I feel like it's a good idea to, like, go down there. Go to her place."

"To Bridgett's house?" Cheyenne rasped, entire body leaning forward as she tried to listen in to the conversation.

"Yeah. That's exactly what I was thinking."

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. You should not go over there." Dina commanded with a fast shake of her head. However, a mischievous smile was quick to curl on her face. "We should all go over there."

You tilted your head in confusion, your brain completely fogged up from the mix of alcohol and rapid back and forth conversation. "To Bridgett's house?"

"Just always assume we're talking about Bridgett's house." Dina waved her hands at you and Cheyenne, the two of you nodding at her when you finally understood what was going on.

"Yes, let's do it." Amy gasped, a wide smile on her face.

"Okay. Oh, but how are we gonna get there? Because I try not to drive if I've had more than six."

"Yeah, I don't have a car." You added - you'd drank the least out of all four of you, but you still in no state to drive, however, in the moment that thought didn't cross your mind, the only one being that lack of car to get you there

"Oh, yeah, I should not be getting behind the wheel of a car right now."

The four of you were quick to get into your outdoor coats, hats, gloves and scarfs, riding the mobility scooters out of the store on the beginning on what would surely be a long journey to Bridgett's house.

"And we're sure this is faster than walking?" Asked as you finally pulled out into the main road, immediately blocking a car from going past as the four of you went roughly 2 miles and hour.

As you turned a corner, following Amy and Dina who seemed to know where they were going, your phone buzzed. Pulling it out, you opened the notification, finding a message from Jonah.

The Three Musketeers

J <3 | would you say your life was significantly improved by fajita Thursdays?

y/n | yeah, always. I miss it. move back in pls

Gare-bear <3 | 1 you're a liar and 2 you can have him I want him out

J <3 | oh that is so rich that you would say that

You were glad that you were missing whatever fight those two were having, muting your phone and tucking it back inside the safety of your coat pocket as you carried on with your journey to Bridgette'a house.

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It was a surprisingly quick journey to Bridgett's house  - even given the fact you were travelling there on the cloud 9 mobility scooters - but the cold, night air that was beginning to seep through your clothes was making it feel long.

"This is it. The vulture's nest." The three of you parked up behind Amy's first scooter, each dismounting their respective scooter and standing at the end of the path to Bridgett's house.

"Whoa." Cheyenne and you were dazed by the lights and ornaments that she had on display in her front yard. "Look at all this stuff."

Dina scoffed, hands on her hips as she stared at the yard display in disgust. "Four owls? News flash, owls are notoriously solitary."

"Four-owl bitch."

"All right. I'm gonna do this. I'm gonna go knock on the door." Amy psyched herself up, walking right up to Bridgett's door and raising her hand to knock.

"Great, and then what?"

"And then Adam opens the door, and then I get to see the look on his face!"

"I bet it's gonna be all like, "Whoa, you're a crazy stalker. I'm scared.""

Amy froze in her spot, a terrible, sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as what the four of you were doing really realised itself in her brain. "Oh, my God. This is a mistake."

Dina laughed at the realisation, nodding as though she'd known from the very beginning this would happen. "Uh, a mistake that we're gonna laugh about one day."

"But not today." You gasped, your grip on Cheyenne tightening at the horrific thought of that very door opening and Adam coming out from the other side.

"Oh, no, no, no. Today's gonna be a mess." Dina confirmed.

"We got to go. We got to go. Go, go, go, go, go!" The four of you ran back to your scooters, attempting to make an escape before you'd achieved your plan of confronting them now that you realised how dumb it was. "Get out of here. Oh, my God. My battery's dead."

You and Cheyenne concurred, all three of you heading towards Dina's scooter in an effort to still escape while you could. You could come back for the other scooters later. As Amy tried to climb in the basket, you and Cheyenne balanced on the back, Dina smacked her away. "The max capacity for the basket is a buck-fifty."

"What, are you kidding me?" Amy shrieked, desperate to just get in the basket and get going before anyone noticed you were there. "I don't weigh 150 pounds."

"If you say so, but I'm weighing you when we get back." Dina allowed Amy into the basket, pressing down on the go pedal and moving about a foot away from where she'd parked when the door to Bridgett's house opened.

"Amy? Is that you?"

"Adam? Dubanowski? You guys, you remember Adam." Everyone eyed up the brunette, making noises for way too joyful agreement in an effort to hide the malicious intent you'd arrived with.

As Adam and Bridgette invited everyone in to get warm and talk while the scooters recharged, you opted to sit on her porch step with your coffee, forgetting that coming to confer on Adam actually pertained confronting Adam. You'd much rather sit out on the cold porch, attempting to sober up with your coffee then be in the same room as him.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before everyone came back out of the house. Placing down your half drank cup if coffee onto Bridgett's decking, you joined them as they walked back to the scooters, linking arms with Cheyenne as you went.

Just as you were about to get into your scooter, Amy ran back towards the lawn ornaments, grabbing a snowman and turning to face the three of you with a wicked grin. "I told you. I'm Craymie. Year of Craymie! Quick, take something! Hurry, come on! Go, go! Go, go, go, go!"

As you each grabbed and ornament to put in your basket, Bridgett and Adam came to the door, watching as you made your slow get away with her lawn ornaments in som act of twisted revenge. Finally you pulled out of view, will fill charged scooters, new Christmas decorations and a cry from Dina of 'yas queen!'

Maybe today had been alright.

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"I told you guys. I am a psycho." Amy had a wide smile on her face, her coworkers believing her high school wildness giving her the satisfaction she'd wanted.

"Oh, yeah, you got to let Craymie out more often. But call her something else, 'cause that name sucks." Cheyenne stroked the head of the owl ornament she's stolen, your identical one sat next to Marcus on the floor while you were sat in his lap.

"What's wrong with Craymie?"

Amy's question went unanswered as Glenn appeared with a plug and an extension lead in hand. "Well, I think I finally figured out these Christmas lights. See if you can still call this "fine.""

"Wow. Christmas lights. I've never experienced the miracle of little light bulbs on a string before." Mateo sassed fed up of Glenn trying to convince him Christmas was cool when that's all he'd been doing since this morning.

As Glenn turned on the light display he'd spent all month working on in for the first time, it elicited gasps fro everyone gathered around the Christmas display. The fairy lights covered the whole store head to toe and gave off a warm glow that had your absolutely captivated. Marcus wasn't looking at the lights, however, his head titled up to look at you through hooded eyes.

"Where's Jonah? He would love this."

With a gasp, you stumbled from Marcus's lap, his hand coming to rest against the small of your back as you attempted to stand straight. "That reminds me." Pushing away from the group, you did your best to run for the stores entrance, your bag loosely in your grip as you picked it up from where it had been on the floor. "I'll be right back."

You stumbled into several end caps as you tried to weave your way throughout the store in search of a certain brown-haired boy before it was too late. As you neared the front of the store, you called out in way too over the top whispers, through the alcohol in your system had you thinking you were yelling with all your might. "Jonah!"

Jonah and Kelly froze in the store entrance, both wrapped up to protect them from the winter weather and far too close together for friends to be. Even though you had enough alcohol in your system that you couldn't see entirely straight, you could see that.

Running up to the brunette as the pair turned to face you, you threw your arms around his shoulders, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to his cheek. As you pulled away your cheeks filled with warmth, a wide smile forming on your face. "I nearly forgot."

Reaching for your bag, you opened it up, pulling out a neatly wrapped silver box and pressing it a little too hard against Jonah's chest. A laugh slipped past his lips at your over the top gestures, him quickly realising that you'd probably consumed more alcohol tonight then you should've. While you had gotten him a physical gift, you weren't going to let him miss out of what he'd claimed he'd wanted earlier that day.

"At trivia night, he waited for me to drop Sandra at the bus stop, and then was going to walk me home. But I got in his car and we went to trivia night. Together." You whispered, pressing another chaste kiss to his cheek then leaning up to his ear. "Merry Christmas."

Jonah pressed a quick kiss your cheek in return this time, the smile unwavering from his face. "I actually ordered your gift to be shipped to your place, it should be there when you get back."

"You got me something?" You awed, pulling him into a hug, your arms hanging loosely around his waist. "That's sweet."

"And so are you, peach."

"And Kelly." As quickly and intently as your attention had been on him, it had now turned to Kelly, your eyes unwavering from the shorter blonde as the smile on your face only widened. "Kelly." You cooed once more, grabbing the girl by her shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug, pressing a long, hard kiss to her cheek just like you had Jonah's. "You're so nice. And pretty. And cool."

You hiccuped in between your words, your posture was becoming less and less straight and if it weren't for the fact you had such a firm grip on the blondes shoulders, you'd have definitely fallen over by now. "If I wasn't dating Marcus, I'd totally hit you up, doll face."

Jonah nearly choked at your use of the words 'doll face,' years in Garretts presence clearly having rubbed off on you.

"I'm going to leave you lovebirds to it." You whispered, pulling them both into one last, group hug. "Have a very, Merry Christmas!"

As you walked away from the two, you blew them a kiss, waving goodbye for a final time before running back in the direction of the lights and the people you loved so much. When you finally made it back to the winter garden display that everyone had gathered around, Marcus's eyes were quick to meet yours, you quickly staggering over to him and plopping yourself down on his lap with a hard drop.

"Where'd you go there, angel?" Marcus whispered in your ear, the glow of the Christmas lights illuminating his face in the darkness of the store. "I missed you."

"I needed to give Jonah his Christmas present." You murmured back, wiggling the metal flask from between his fingers and taking another swig from it. "Speaking of Christmas presents, yours is back at my place."

"Is it now?" Marcus asked, a teasing lilt to his words, a quick kiss being pressed to your forehead as you let it fall back and rest against his shoulder. "Does that mean I get to come over tomorrow?"

"I was thinking you could come over tonight, when everyone heads out of here."

"Back to your place?" He asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair, twirling them it around his fingers then letting it go, and repeating the action once more.

"Back to my place, and in the morning I can open your gift and you can open my gift, and then to my moms for breakfast and more gifts and eventually Christmas dinner which'll probably be more Chinese food." You mused, sitting up enough in Marcus's lap that you could look in his eyes. Both your arms came up to wrap around his neck, hands meeting at its nape and running through the hair there. As you seemed to think on your next words, you started giggling, a blush rising to your cheeks. "And then afterwards, Amy does this thing - every year - where she goes back and forth between two Christmas movies and she always ends up picking the polar express. It's the best thing ever."

Marcus looked down at you with the softest smile, his eyes filled with adoration that shone under the gentle glow of the Christmas lights that Glenn had coated the store in. Of course when you'd said mom, you'd meant Amy, the way it had so naturally rolled of your tongue warmed his heart - and he was sure it'd have warmed Amy's too if she'd heard.

"Your sure I'm welcome?" He asked, nudging his nose against yours, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips that had you chasing after his when he pulled away in search of another. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

Another kiss was pressed to your lips before you responded, dazed and dreamily staring up at the brunette. "Of course you're welcome to come baby, you don't have to if you don't want to."

Marcus was thankful that everyone else was too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice the way his cheeks flushed a deep red when you'd called him baby. The slightly drunken drawl to your words had only made the butterflies it gave him worse, the fact it was the first time you'd called him any kind of pet name would've been enough to have his cheeks burning alone.

"Of course i want to come, Angel. It's a good thing I have your gift in the trunk of my car then, huh."

"You got me a gift?" You gasped, turning so that you were straddling one of his legs instead, his hands coming to hold your hips so that you were kept steady. "You didn't have to, that's so sweet."

"Of course I had to." Marcus replied knocking his forehead against yours gently. "You got me one last year, and now this year, and I-"

Though Marcus did love you he didn't want to say it again now. He didn't want now - while you were half drunk and looking at him like that - to be the first time he said it again since the two of you got back together. Not when he was still a little bit scared of you not saying it back.

"I care about you. Why wouldn't I get you a gift?"

"What did I do to deserve you?" You hummed, allowing your head to fall into the crook of his neck, Marcus's hands that had been on your hips moved to wrap around your waist, holding you against him in a hug. Nuzzling yourself into the warmth of Marcus, you words came out muffled and quieter then intended. "Merry Christmas to me, huh."

"Merry Christmas to you indeed, angel."

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I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOUR HONOUR

I hope you guys enjoyed this weeks part because it had all my fave things!!!! Mom!Amy, Fluffy!Marcus and Adam hate 🔪🔪🔪🔪

New update next week or potentially the first sub part Sunday in forever!!! (Depending on the word count god knows I'll end up writing 10,000,000 words about Christmas Day) we'll see what happens then....

As always!!! Have a lovely week <333