#like I guess old Moon-she gets on my nerves

[visionthefox]

Sams Earth

I guess is a rant? but im getting a bit bothered? with how Earth fans act like we, those who dont like her, just hate woman? or any famale character? and,ok, yes! yes yes! SOME people are way too rude, way too hatefull over an OC in a RP channel.. some need to calm tf down.. but putting everyone in the same bag is tiring me..why I dont like her? short: -bad way to introduce your new character- not natural- unlike the last 2. -her way to be showed was -for some cute- funny- yet soon annoying as she being unable to read the room was not fun to see..specially with KC. -she did NOT asked how the others felt about being caller brothers by a complete stanger. by that point. -This is personal - very personal - but she cannot be "the person with emotional intelligence/ready and prepared to give therapy" at the same time that she is not able to understand the actions of others, nor read the room still .

(Like someone who dreams of being a therapist? It's very very VERY bad. In fact - it's a rule! that therapists CANNOT do the job for the family. The family bond creates a preconception on both sides that nullifies the effectiveness of the therapy)

yet the fans act like we all just hate her just to hate her, and "no one else got this level of hate!" sorry? BM wasnt liked until he showed to be a chaotic evil one and even so. I BET there's ppl who dont like him. The dislike ppl felt was different.. one friend of mine did find her annoying, yet also found her to be stone in the way for Sun's development! but we both can agree on something. we dont hate her because she is a famale character. We dislike her early use. rn she is ok.in my eyes. I dont hate her- I get her character- I just never liked how she acted at SOME moments. pushy. is the words I give her. pushy. and once again. she can be a male for all I care- KC is also on my list as "wasted potential".old Moon is the "idiot" - New Moon? is also staring to be disliked.. so is not her "gender" is her use.she had fans WISHING for her- she was taken with love even with how terrible her fist intro was..(stolen models are NOT ok to use!) idk I felt like saying this out loud im getting a bit annoyed with some fans. but I guess is how we word ourself that can trigger her fans.. so I guess is 50-50. idk, can yall tell me if Im actually wrong here?

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry for the delay folks xx

masterlist

now i wish we’d never met ‘cause you’re too hard to forget while i’m cleaning up your mess i know he’s taking off your dress and i know that you don’t but if i ask you if you love me i hope you lie to me

Bucky Barnes was a great many things, a paradox in a single man, many opposite things to different people. For some he was an angel, charity driven and ready to sacrifice himself for everything and everyone. For others, he was a demon, someone who was power driven, filled with the need for success and stepping on anyone he needed to be the first and the best. No matter what both thought, all agreed on one thing - Bucky Barnes was one hell of a charmer. He’d gotten that from his mother - old high class British charm, his father used to say. That combined with his looks made him irresistible to most people. Everyone flocked to him, everyone except for Y/N. She’d vanished from his side a bit later into the night and he hadn’t seen her since. Each time he thought to look for her, someone would need him or catch his attention.

Even with all that, he couldn’t find her. Y/N was an eye catching woman, she was beautiful and if she were anywhere near he would’ve found her. Instead, she was nowhere to be found and he was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to spend the evening with her, or at least he had intended to spend the evening with her, introducing her to the right people who could help her. He continued listening to whoever was talking to him right now - truth was, he wasn’t even sure who that person was. He just usually smiled and kept up simple talks, that was what was required of him so he would gladly keep doing it as long as it yielded results.

As for Y/N, she had almost forgotten who she was here with. Christopher Davis was someone who she always could picture herself with. He was smart, well spoken, well mannered and seemed to have an interest on her. Besides, he had gone through the same thing as her back at Columbia.

      - I’m just saying Professor Williams is a pain. - Chris laughed as Y/N explained what her supervisor had said. - If Professor Anderson likes you then you must be a bright student.  

      - Or maybe I’m just really daft. 

      - I don’t think so. - he smiled. - Sergeant Barnes doesn’t employ someone who doesn’t have promise. 

      - Except I don’t work for him ... I mean, not like you work for him, I’m just an au pair. I reckon the only criteria was are you a threat and are you good with children. 

      - How is it working with Sergeant Barnes if you don’t mind me asking?

Chris looked at her and then back at James whom he didn’t notice had been staring them down until now. He sighed, putting on his best smile, after all, he was trying to impress this girl. 

     - He’s uptight and a bit controlling but I guess you have to be if you want things to run smoothly. Specially when you work in advertising. 

     - That’s most CEOs isn’t it?

     - Yes but James Barnes is .. different. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a disgruntled employee. 

     - That is fine. Sergeant Barnes has got me on my nerves every once and again?

     - Is that so? - Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she turned around to face her boss. She wasn’t afraid of him per say, but she also knew, she just knew he would probably be pissy for the rest of the evening. - Good evening Y/N, Mr. Davis. 

     - I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. - Chris smiled at the au pair.

To say Y/N was over the moon was a massive understatement. He liked her, at least she thought he liked her enough to invite her out. She didn’t think she still had it within her, she was usually busy looking over Sadie or with her postgraduate studies - that didn’t give her enough time to think about her sex and love life. That being said, maybe that explained why she was having the weird dreams and fantasies about James; familiarity. Right? It had to be that.

Bucky on the other hand felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Chris was ... well, he didn’t know that much about Chris other than he came from money yet he couldn’t even blame him from that since he had come from money as well. He was just boring, Bucky found him boring. He didn’t take risks, at least not enough risks for someone who worked at advertising. He played it safe. It worked, but it wasn’t revolutionary. Still, Bucky didn’t like him. He definitely didn’t like him for Y/N either. Y/N was smart, innovative, caring and another bunch of positive adjectives which were too long to list. Chris was just boring.

     - So how’s that lady? - Y/N broke the silence between the two of them, a bit tipsy on the champagne which she wasn’t used to drinking.

     - What lady?

     - Delilah? - she looked up through her dizzy, tipsy mind, before snapping her fingers. - Delia. Yeah, that’s her name. How is Delia?

     - You would know if you weren’t busy flirting with my employees. 

     - Oh so you can flirt but I can’t?

     - Not when you’re with me. You’re embarrassing yourself and humiliating me.

     - But I’m not here with you, am I, sergeant? I am not your date, am I?

     - No. - he smiled forcefully. - However if I were going to flirt with someone I would pick someone less boring. 

     - You work in advertising, Sergeant. Everyone is boring. 

(...)

Bucky had never spent a whole night alone with Sadie, not when she was awake. Yet, here he was, left behind by his au pair so she could go and date boring Chris while he had to deal with a very hyper Sadie who was running around as if it wasn’t 8 o’clock yet. He usually had a babysitter or he had Y/N, or Steve yet right now he was by his lonesome. He thought she would’ve settled down if he played princesses, yet, she did not. Instead Bucky now had knotted hair, glitter on his face and probably some on his eye and permanent marker on his neck. He had finally given up and done the worse thing in the eyes of every parenting book - he’d given her a tablet loaded with all the Bluey seasons. Meanwhile he’d taken to watching re-runs of Mad Men. 

     - Bed? - he asked the curly haired ginger who looked up at him, her hair in front of her face. - I’ll give you 10 dollars?

     - No. - she replied before looking back at her tablet. Bucky sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Soon the terrible twos would be done and he’d have the terrifying threes. 

    - 20 dollars? - he said once again but she ignored him. He sighed, how come Y/N managed to do this? - Sadie, you can either go to bed or you can be tired tomorrow and not go to the park with Y/N. Choose. 

She looked at him with the death stare which she had inherited from him, but eventually got up, grabbing his hand. Bucky smiled, picking her up and walking to her bedroom. He pushed the sheets from her bed, carefully rolling her to her mattress before tucking her in, handing her a Bingo plushie. 

    - You want a story, babe? - he asked her, brushing her curls away from her forehead. - No?

    - Light?

    - I’ll turn your little moonlight on. - he kissed her forehead. - I love you, Sisi bug. 

She smiled at him and it was enough for him to know she meant she loved him too. He tucked her once more before turning off the main light, leaving the room softly lit by the nightlight. Slowly and softly he went up the stairs, grabbing a wick basket and started collecting toys onto it. She had too many toys, still he wouldn’t stop buying them. As he finished it, Bucky sat back down on the couch. He was annoyed. Why did she even go out with that prick? The only thing they had in common was an alma matter and god knows Chris was a legacy student so it wasn’t like he tried as hard to get into university like Y/N had. God, he hated him. Hated how bland and boring he was. 

He toyed around with the remote, trying to find something that would get his head out of the idea of goddamn Christopher Davis trying to get her out of the practically translucent dress she had been wearing. Bucky could swear she did it on purpose, just to show off to him in those strap heels and short sheer black dress like a temptress. He changed channels once more, hoping he’d find something ... maybe a pay per view porn channel or something. Yet nothing took his mind of his au pair, his employee who he should have some professionalism with, and that stupid lacy bra he could make out under that dress. Dressing up like that for goddamn Davis. 

He stared at his phone, watching as hours passed yet nothing fulfilled. Eventually, Bucky made a mistake, a huge, massive mistake. A mistake which fulfilled itself as he opened the door to show Delia. He handled things badly but right now he needed his fill. 

His lips attacked hers as they stumbled towards the bedroom, Bucky locking the door behind him. This was a bad habit, a terrible habit but her lips felt good, her taste was tempting and Bucky wasn’t the one to have good habits. However, today, things were ... different. Her lips leaving lipstick marks on his neck didn’t feel the same. Maybe this was a mistake. He shouldn’t really have a woman in the house when his daughter was asleep upstairs. 

   - Are you alright? - Delia pulled away from him.

Bucky blinked, he had to be going ... stir crazy. Maybe he’d drank a bit too much whiskey but her features morphed and he could swear that in place of the woman he usually called whenever he needed release, stood the woman he wanted to be here now. The sheer dress a vivid memory in the back of his mind. He ignored her question, moving to kiss her neck and putting his hand over her mouth. His fantasies took full front stage as his mind drew a different reality.

All he could see was her, red lips open wide with soft, high pitched moaned as he kissed down her body, doing away with her dress and her underwear. He wanted to mark her, he wanted to mark this vision of a woman he craved. His hands found the top of his joggers, pushing it down as if he were a horny mess. His cock was painfully hard, slapping against his stomach as he stood over her, this vision of Y/N. All he could think of were all the times she saw her, the outline of her breasts, her collarbones. He didn't pace himself, instead lining up with the woman's entrance before he gripped her hips and slide himself in, without much a second of though. The feeling made him grown, he was insane he reckoned, insane because he knew this wasn't her but all he could see is her. The soft moans, the contracted muscles. He fucked her hard and rough until he felt his release approach. Once he did, he slide himself off, jerking off and coming on her stomach, rolling to the side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling fan of the guest bedroom, his mind lulling him back to reality ... all he could think when that moment was once simple thing - Fuck Chris Davis. 

(...)

Y/N didn’t spend the night. He noticed that in the morning as he was getting prepared from work and saw her walk in, with her dress crimped and hair barely brushed. His blood bubbled. If she wanted to fuck old money, she could’ve fucked him. 

    - Had your release? - he knew he was being mean now, just looking to stir the pot. - Fun night?

    - Why? Need some new jerking off material? - she crossed her arms, speaking in a manner and language that almost made him spit his coffee. - Who’s taking Sadie to school?

    - Well, if you can still walk I’d say he did a pretty shit job, huh?

    - I guess I’m taking Sadie to school. - she rolled her eyes. - And it’s none of your business.

    - Well my employee is fucking another one of my employees. Maybe you should go to HR. 

    - Maybe I should and tell them that the boss is acting like an ass. Are you seriously still upset at me that I flirted with someone at your weird benefit? I’m single, I’m allowed to flirt!

    - Not with Chris Davis. Seriously, Y/N, get a better taste in men. 

    - Because you have such a great taste in women. - she poured herself a cup of coffee. - Since you’re dressed, maybe you should take Sadie to school and see your favourite ego boosting group the PTA mums. 

    - Maybe I will.

    - Picking Sadie up from school or do you want me to?

    - Steve’s picking her up.

    - Steve?

Steve. 

////////////////////////////////////

taglist : @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82​ @winters1917​ @vladsgirlxx​

[avonne-writes]

Happy birthday week, dear! I hope you have a wonderful and joyous week 😊

All of those prompts were just adorable and I had such a hard time choosing just one!

So of these three, maybe pick your favourite?SWAY, TUCK, TILT

Thank you so much, dear! 🥰 I decided to write this in my HS AU.

[ SWAY ]  sender pulls receiver into a slow dance in the living room / kitchen / bedroom

Gale smooths a hand down the front of his white shirt, then tugs his trousers a little higher up to make sure they sit right on his hips. He put some calming music on to ease his nerves but a part of him remains jittery because he knows Georgia and Neil are going to take photos of him and Bucky downstairs. He really doesn’t want to pose, he sucks at it.

Staring at his reflection in his closet door mirror, he sighs and ties his long hair up in a neat bun. He can’t believe it's prom already. His last high school dance. A sad, melancholic feeling aches in his chest when he thinks about it, but there’s some excitement behind it too. Soon, he won't have to depend on anyone or to fulfill their expectations - he’ll be able to do whatever he wants and take his life in whichever direction he chooses. He’ll be free.

He glances at the black tux draped over his bed. His mom bought it for him. His mom. She asked Gale to spend a Saturday with her and they went to the mall where they ended up buying it. Then she took him home - back to Bucky's place - gave him an awkward hug and asked him to send her a picture if he decided to wear it. Gale spent the rest of that evening crying in his room. He still wants to cry whenever he looks at it. But he wants to wear it nevertheless. He's used to the pain of knowing what parental love is but never getting enough of it. You treasure what you can.

He reaches for the jacket, but before he could put it on, the door of his room creaks open. He doesn’t even have to look to know that it's Bucky - he’s the only one who never knocks unless he’s locked out. He whistles when he catches sight of Gale and grins at him in the mirror. Gale gives him a small, amused smile and slips his jacket on.

"Well, hello there." Bucky purrs at him and wraps his arms around his waist.

Gale turns around in his embrace and raises his eyebrows at him. "General Kenobi!"

As expected, Bucky guffaws like an idiot at the joke. He always does when Gale quotes one of his dumb memes back at him.

"You look gorgeous." He says once he stops laughing. His eyes glittering half-moons, squinting at Gale in joy.

"Hm-m." Gale hums and drops his gaze to the floor.

There’s a beat of silence, then Bucky drops a kiss to the corner of his mouth as if to say, come on, don't be sad, let’s have fun. Gale turns his head to press their lips together properly, and by the time he pulls away, they’re both smiling. He doesn’t want Bucky to prod at him to say what's wrong, so he looks for a distraction, and his eyes land on the ends of Bucky’s tie hanging undone over his chest.

"Do you need a hand?" He asks, tugging on the silky fabric.

Bucky rubs the back of his head. "Yeah. I didn’t wanna ask Mom. God, can you even imagine?"

Gale makes a contemplative sound and starts working on the knot. He learnt it from his grandpa when he was still alive. He used to spend long weeks every summer with the old man. But Bucky, of course, never had much male influence in his life, and Gale doesn’t think he was ever super close to his grandparents, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he still hasn't learned how to do this.

"You could have asked Neil." Gale says as he adjusts the knot until it sits perfectly on Bucky’s collar.

Bucky doesn’t reply anything to that, which is odd enough from him that Gale looks up. Bucky's sad puppy eyes stare back at him for a moment before Bucky blinks whatever emotion he felt away and holds up a hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Gale crosses his arms and gives him an unimpressed look. He has a good guess what the hell that silence meant. Bucky's feeling clingy again. That’s why he came to Gale and not to Neil, isn't, that's why he’s right here flirting when they're literally about to leave to do this the whole night. But it makes sense if Gale looks at it from Bucky's paranoid eyes - another milestone gone, another step closer to their dreaded college decisions and the separation Bucky fears.

Gale thinks about calling him out on it. He considers giving in to the tinge of annoyance he feels, but he lets it go. Exhales it through a small smile. Tonight is for fun and love, not fights.

He takes the hand offered, and finds himself being spun immediately. It makes him laugh.

"What are you doing?"

Bucky grins at him and tugs him close, swaying with him in a clumsy slow dance through the room to the music coming from Gale’s phone. He squeezes Gale’s waist with his right hand. "Warming up. We'll have to make an impression on the dance floor, baby."

"You can go make an impression with Curt while I hang out with the rest of the guys."

"I can’t dance with Curt, he knows he’s gonna be Prom King and won't shut up about it."

"Always such a jealous boy, Bucky." Gale tuts and surprises Bucky by pushing back and spinning him in turn. It makes Bucky grin so wide that Gale can barely see the blues of his eyes.

"I'm not jealous." Bucky chuckles and loops both of Gale's arms around his neck to hold him even closer. They rock side to side together. It feels nice enough that Gale wishes they did it more often. "I made a deal with him. If he wins, he’ll adopt you. Then I can call you princess and you can’t protest."

For a moment, Gale just looks at Bucky and feels a rush of fondness bubble through his veins at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Then he bursts into a laugh. "All right." He finds himself nodding despite his better judgment. "I'll be your princess tonight."

"Yeah?" Bucky's smile wavers in his surprise, as if he thought he'd only tease and flirt, not that Gale would go along with it. But Gale feels good now. The nervousness is gone. He feels free.

He tips his head up to rub his nose to Bucky's. "For one night." He smirks and kisses Bucky's mouth.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

--

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

--

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

--

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!”  he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

Return to Fic Masterlist

Return to Navigation

Taglist: @theredviolets @mybrainsautocorrect @all-user-error @belos-simp69 @boogiemansbitch @elio-ee @snowlotr @mistresslemonsuger @sugasweettea @jaygrl22 @mysterypotatoink @yunimimii @threefingeredpencil @mydeardelphi @glowinthedarkbones1150 @fluffismystaplefood @writer-girl99 @rl800 @the-unhinged-raccoon @riritvt @melodyidk @ray-rook @artstorieshusbandos @4k1to

[ladymarycrawley]

Chelsea FC Nursery - Mason Mount

Request: Is so basically one day you got called in to work and no one could look after your daughter who is about 1 so mason has to take her in to work and at first she is scared of everyone but then she warms up to everyone by the end of the day she doesn’t want to leave

Warning: pure fluff 💕 (a lil bday gift for the loveliest @masterclassbaby 🌟)

Tag list: @masonxomount​ @chelsealover​ @masterclassbaby​

Having a baby and having to deal with super busy working schedules wasn’t something ideal for newparents. Most of the time you succeeded in organizing everything perfectly: bath and feeding time, taking her to the doctors and everything in between but some other things got more complicated meaning you had to deal with unplanned surprises such as your boss unexpectedly calling you into work when it should have been your day off.

“You said you’d have been off today” Your boyfriend whined as his eyes were following you, rushing to get ready and have a decent look to get into work.

“Yeah baby, I know but that pain in the arse of my boss said he needed me asap” You huffed, struggling to put your wool sweater on and therefore swearing about putting your head in the wrong hole.

Mason bit on his lips as your frantic moves caused him to smile but he knew that seeing him smirking somehow amused would have gotten you on your nerves.

“What about Lyla? I’ve training…” He scratched the back of his neck, racking his brain to think about what to do with your baby girl: should he have called Lewis and asked him to look after his niece? 

“Fuck” You breathed out while swiftly checking if you got everything you needed in your bag. “I can’t take her with me, even though I’d love to” Lyla was sitting on the ground, peacefully playing with her toys, as you placed the look of love upon her.

“I guess I’ll came up with something” Mason muttered, holding your coat out for you to wear it as you were putting on your boots.

“Thanks” You addressed a little smile to your man, the man that never failed to make you feel loved. Gratefulness filled your heart during every moment you would spend with him, even during these harder time where those loving feelings could have been the last thing among your priorities.

You shared a quick peck before kissing Lyla goodbye. “I’ll see you tonight babies, love you!” 

“Bye! We love you!” He shouted back at you before closing the front door and looking at his daughter with a mixture of fear and hassle in his eyes.

“Okay bubs, what should I do with you? Mhh?” Mason clearly didn’t expect for his one year old baby to answer his question so the puzzled look she gave him elicited a laughter from him.

“Come here” That baby, the result of your love, was everything to him. He loved her to the moon and back and would have climbed the highest mountain in the world to see her smile.

“Mama?” Her little voice echoed in the room, calling for you.

“She had to go, baby, we’ll try to see if uncle Lewis can come over” Mason took his phone out of his pocket to dial his older brother’s number but he forgot he was out of town meaning he couldn’t have taken up his uncle and babysitter duties. He rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance. Things were harder than expected.

“Dada?”

“Cool…what should we do now?”

At that moment an idea came up to him like a genius stroke: he could have taken Lyla with him to Cobham so she would have plenty of babysitters who could look after her.

"Okay baby, you know what? Today you'll come to work with daddy, are you happy?" He was beaming with eagerness thanks to his idea, the best idea he could think of.

"Yes!" She squealed, wiggling her hands in the air happily, mostly to match the enthusiastic tone of her dad.

"You'll meet a lot of new friends, uncle Ben will be there…You'll love it" He tried to encourage her by listing all the cons about this new experience as he dressed her in an adorable grey tracksuit matching his own.

Lyla looked a little confused because, even being this young, she sensed that day wasn't going to be an ordinary one, most of all because her mum wasn’t there with her.

"Mummy?"

"She's at work, love, but she'll come back soon"

Even though she was definitely a daddy’s girl, she wanted to share that special day she was going to live with you but you weren’t there and that was kind of upsetting for your baby.

When Mason took his phone to dial Potter’s number to ask whether it was okay for him to bring his daughter to training, Lyla started trotting around the living room looking for you: she looked behind the sofa, underneath the cushions, under the table but you were nowhere to be found.

“Lyla love, what are you doing?”

“Mama”

If you listened closely you could hear Mason’s heart beat getting faster as he hated breaking his little one’s.

“You’ll see her in a couple of hours, sweetheart. You’ll have a lot of fun with dada!” He stated while preparing the tiny, pink glitter backpack with all her stuff.

At that moment, your doorbell rang and she lifted her head towards it expecting you to enter the house. It was uncle Ben instead, as Mason asked him to go to training together so the baby would have faced the new experience better but that wasn’t the case as she started crying when she realised it wasn’t her mum the one at the door.

“Hey princess, why are you crying? It’s me!” Ben asked, taking her in his arms and lifting her up in the air.

Mason huffed, shaking his head in despair as the last thing he wanted was making his child cry.

“She’s not happy about going to Chelsea nursery” Ben chuckled, kissing her temple sweetly.

“Nope, apparently not” Mason chuckled back, giving Lyla her dummy in the hope she would calm down a bit while holding her favourite plushie.

“Shall we go? We’re running late”

Mason nodded and put his training bag on his shoulder as he grabbed the pink bag with the other hand.

“You look so hot with the glitter bag” Ben teased him.

“Shut up, I drip too hard” Mason answered in kind, making his friend laugh out loud.

The two friends and teammates drove together to Cobham ready to train with the rest of the squad. The moment you got in the car Lyla stopped crying, looking out of the window quite intrigued about what the next destination would have been.

“We’re going to a beautiful place” Mason kissed her cheek, her big brown eyes looking all around while hugging her teddy bear tightly.

When they entered the training centre the first ones to welcome them were Kepa and Jorginho who grinned widely when their eyes fell on the baby girl in Mason’s arms.

“Look who’s here, hi baby girl” Jorgi took Lyla’s tiny hands in his.

“She seems a bit scared” Kepa giggled “hola guapa!”

“Yeah, she’s. Y/N got called into work and no one could stay home with her so I asked the gaffer if I could take her here” The Chelsea midfielder explained to his teammates.

“Dada” She moaned nuzzling in her dad’s neck.

“Daddy’s here, baby” He whispered into her ear as Ben smiled at her, brushing his hand against her leg affectionately.

"Oh there she is, our new staff member" Potter made his entrance in the room with that little joke about your baby.

"Yeah, thanks coach. She's a really quiet girl, I promise that"

"Yes, I just hope she's taken after her mother then" He moved closer to say hi to her but she got scared and nuzzled against Mason's neck once again. 

"She isn't anything like her father, mister" Ben joked, earning a glare from Mason as he really loved when people would notice the things he and his baby had in common instead of his best friend mocking him.

“Okay, I love having this little miss here with us but we should start working”

That was a good occasion for Mason to combine business with pleasure as he would train while keeping an eye on the most important thing he had, making some grimaces every now and then to make her laugh.

Once the training was over, all the Chelsea boys came to play with Lyla, Ben, Christian and Kepa in particular. The little girl already knew Mason’s football best friend but as soon as she met the American player she only had eyes for him: they laughed a lot together, even forgetting about her dad who was the love of her life.

Mason couldn’t have been happier about hearing his daughter’s careless laughters filling the room but he would have lied to himself if he would say that interaction didn't make him any jealous.

“Lyla love, it’s time to go home!”

“No!!” She protested, wiggling her tiny legs as she was playing hide and seek with the boys.

“Come on love, mummy would be home soon!” He tried to convince her by talking about her mummy, the most important woman of your lives.

“Come on Lyla, we’ll go on playing another day!” Christian tried to help Mason, giggling when she didn’t want to leave his hand.

“Well you forgot about your beloved dad rather quickly, you ungrateful child” Mason muttered as taking her in his arms, smiling against her temple before kissing it.

The whole Chelsea staff laughed at his joke before waving the loving baby their goodbyes.

"I'm home!" You sang before closing the front door behind you. The first thing you saw was your baby trying to "run" to you and it was the best, cutest thing you've ever seen.

"Hello baby! Come to mummy" You took her in your arms, peppering kisses all over her face.

Mason, who had the biggest grin ever hearing the two of you laugh wholeheartedly, made his way to you, to welcome you back.

"Look who's there"

"Hello mummy" He whispered against your lips, his voice a bit husky.

"Hello daddy" You replied to him in the same tone before giving each other a kiss.

"How was your day?"

"Tell mummy where did daddy take you"

"Where did you go??"

"To Cobham!"

"To - what?"

"Yeah, it was like take your children to work day"

"Mason" You glared at him, knowing full well that wasn’t the truth.

"I had no choice, Y/N as nobody could come and look after her"

"We should start looking for a babysitter" You sighed, placing your baby back on the ground. 

"No way"

"How dared you take my baby in that place?" You chuckled, placing your coat back on the hanger.

"We met a lot of new people and there was also uncle Ben!" Mason sounded way more excited than Lyla really was or should have been, from her dad's point of view.

Your daughter still had that look of confusion on her face, her eyes kind of tired and puffy from the amount of emotions she experienced that day. You smiled looking at her, taking her back in your arms.

"It was a busy day, wasn't it baby?" You cooed in her ear as she rubbed her little fist against her chocolate brown eyes, the same as her dad.

"Bedtime princess! Come on, let's go" Mason stated with his arms out for you to pass her to him.

"Did you already have dinner?"

"Yep, we ate some pasta daddy made and we watched a film we've never saw: Frozen" He rolled his eyes and said the last part of the sentence feigning annoyance with her baby watching the same cartoon over and over again.

"Oh really?" You answered giggling.

"Have you ever seen it? It's good actually"

"How many times did you watch it this week?" You asked, your mouth at the corner of his lips.

"That must've been the seventh time this week" He muttered smirking, pressing a kiss on your cheek. You smiled as your gaze laid on your baby yawning.

"Good night, baby. Mummy loves you so much" You pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting her go with her dad upstairs.

While he was tucking Lyla in, you changed into your warm and soft pajamas, a big smile on your face as you couldn't have imagined a better life for you to live with such special people by your side you were lucky to call yours.

Mason came back in less than ten minutes, smirking. 

"What's that face for?"

He shrugged and hugged you from behind.

"She wanted her mama to sleep with her, I told her you were coming so she closed her eyes and started snoring one minute after"

You chuckled, your fingers grazing his forearms in soothing circles.

"You tricked her"

"It's for her good"

Mason pressed a kiss right under your jaw, making you shiver "Plus I needed her mama too…"

You turned to face him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"You missed me?"

"You have no idea" He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. "I always miss you. I really wanted you to see her becoming friend with Christian and all the other lads…I think she has a soft spot for him"

"I missed you too…well, she's good taste, I guess she's taken from me" You blinked, clearly referring to you liking Mason.

"I guess, but I feel betrayed. I have to be her prince"

His line as a jealous father, madly in love with his daughter, made you chuckle, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck.

"You'll always be her prince but let's say metaphorically"

It was his turn to laugh as he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of your vanilla conditioner he loved before pressing a kiss on your nape.

"You've a point there"

The two of you stayed like that in silence for while, Mason’s hands squeezing your hips and moving them along your back. 

"But I'll always be your prince, right?"

"Always" You trailed your lips along his stubble quite teasingly. You thought all those dad duties made him look even hotter than he already was so being away from him all that time was pure torture.

Sharing some intimate moments for the two of you had gotten more difficult since the birth of your princess but you always made sure to have some it was during moments like that where she was asleep in her own bed, that you knew you should have seized the opportunity. Mason started sucking on your neck’s sensitive skin as a sound which was something in between a laughter and a moan escaped your lips.

When his fingers slipped inside your pajama bottoms, Lyla’s cry got your attention and made you jump.

“Lyla’s crying” You whined, worried about your baby but also a bit annoyed with her worst timing.

Mason huffed and kept his hands to himself. “Hold on baby, daddy’s coming!” He shouted on his way to her bedroom “We’re just trying to give you a sibling, you could show some respect” He muttered out loud, knowing that would have made you laugh.

“Mase!!” You called his name with the intention of scolding him but the laugh his line and his bothered face caused you, made your intention fail.

[sensarna]

Theory time (spoilers)

I honestly think that Spit was framed and is not a werewolf/ghoul. In my opinion the real culprit used Spit's drug withdrawal symptoms to make him the most obvious suspect and Spit is either experiencing Delirium from a werewolf transformation or a panic attack from the massacre.

Why kill Fatigue? If it's a werewolf then the old man is the biggest problem - he's the Lycantrophy guy after all and might've deduced werewolf's identity. He's also constantly chilling with the security and Spit acted weird enough the whole evening that he would be the most suspicious. Almost like a Red Herring.

My guess is that Matilda is the werewolf . There's a full moon outside and - if she's a werewolf - she would be constantly on edge because of it (I'm also not sure if her bold handwriting and surname - Wilde - are clues or just quirks of the character). I also think that Elise might know about it and that it's the real reason why she exchanged Git's rolls for the key to the Security room - to give Matilda something to calm her nerves....or maybe she was really just being nice to the staff. Fatigue finding out Matilda's identity might've been the last straw.

As for who the ghoul might be... I'm honestly not sure. Elise, Occam, Amanda, Git, Gloria and even Brok felt the most suspicious for me.

Elise was visibly suspicious the whole episode, but that might as well be a Red Herring for the viewers. She might just be a nice person - rolls to calm down Miranda and a room to breathe for Grimal.

Occam recovered from strangulation with no marks on his neck in the last scene (might be an animation error) and there was an additional chalice when he was found. He's also one of the highest members in the hierarchy and could get the most info.

Amanda is suspicious mostly because of how uninvolved in anything she was, but she also mentioned Baba Yaga after her brain was fried and Baba Yaga, in the WOD lore, is a powerful Nosferatu + according to Blacklaw the longer you hide the truth from his Truth Machine the worst it will be for you , and we saw that it works with Grimal so what was Amanda hiding? Miranda's Lycantrophy?

Git works with the ghouls on his day job so he would be an easy target. If Spit is actually a werewolf he might've framed his friend to redirect everyone's attention and since he was locked up he could fabricate whatever story he needs. Also his smile after he told Blacklaw about D at 99p store seemed suspicious to me, like he is using Blacklaw's obsession with D to redirect attention elsewhere... or maybe he is smiling because they are about to start bullying/torturing people for truth.

Gloria is just snorting cocaine most of the episode but it might be because she is trying to get the edge off. If she had no blood for a long time she might try it and The Police Dude said he tried drugs to stimulate the high of vampiric blood. She was also fine when checking on Occam despite having white powder on her face. Her nervousness when instructing Matilda and Harry might be from drugs and the situation as a whole.

Brok is just weirdly strong and resilient. Also Occam was strangled from behind and Brok's first course of action most of the time is to go for the neck.

In the end, considering that vampires can go invisible, shapeshift and create illusions it's possible that the suspect might not even be among the main characters. And with how strong they are there might also be no werewolf.

[mosscloakenthusiast]

MCYT Yuri week day 1 - dance/break

[for the full experience, this song is what the pianist is playing, and i think it's quite nice so go give it a listen while you read. it took me half the time i spent on this to pick what song to use so indulge me give a listen]

[also posted on my ao3! ]

Someone’s playing piano in the house. It’s soft, and clunky, and honestly half the notes are wrong. Bekyamon doesn’t quite understand music, not properly, honestly it seems quite complicated, and when she runs across the piano full speed it’s seen as a nuisance, so frankly the fact that humans can get away with doing basically the same thing is more than rude.

But, despite all of this, Bek is drawn out of the fight club, to at least stand in the middle of the attic and try and absorb some of the fanciness of it. El would probably like this, after all. She’s pretty easily swayed by that sort of argument.

And, speak of the devil, Eloise has also been drawn out by the music, apparently. El’s listening quite intently. Which catches Bek’s attention, if for no other reason than. Well. She’s pretty. Bek’s easy enough to please.

And, Bek not quite looking away fast enough, El catches their gaze, holding it a second too long.

“See I thought you’d claim to be too cool for music, Bekyamon.” She’s smiling, never quite serious. Somehow she’s got paint stuck in her fur, painting a rainbow across her face. 

“I am too cool for music but, hey, if a lovely lady such as yourself is so invested in it, I can’t blame you.” Bek sidles closer, taking her chances. “Especially one looking rather charming covered in paint.”

“Oh the- Yeah. I got really into my painting, and completely lost track of time.”

“Can I see it?”

“Not until it’s done. It’s a whole lot of nothing right now mate, to be honest.”

“Something enough to get paint everywhere though?” 

“I guess.” El falls quiet, once again seemingly absorbed in the piano music. Bek thinks, as much as she loves talking, maybe now is a moment to hush. Let the rat think. Whatever it is she’s so focused on.

She’s following the music, nodding her head in time with the beat, humming occasionally. They’re not far from a window, and light from the moon streams it, hitting El’s back, and almost making her glow. Bek thinks that’s a bit cliché, even more so to tell her, so instead goes for something which arguably is worse. She gently grabs El’s paw. Now she might have really fucked this, but she’s a rat of many talents, namely being incredibly bold and punching good, so not much in the world could stop her right now.

“What’s on your mind?” She asks, trying not to reveal how much her own head is filled entirely with the Eloise in front of her.

“The music isn’t right. They’ve skipped a couple notes, and it’s really getting on my nerves. It’s not meant to be a waltz, it’s really a more consistent rhythm.”

“You know the song?” Of course she knows the song. Why wouldn’t a rat born from aristocracy know every single song. Bek decides to pretend she doesn’t find that really sweet.

“I used to hear it played a lot by my old bin. Someone nearby loved it. It's called, uh-” And El freezes, suddenly all attention on Bek, eyes that Bek could fall into forever. “Don’t laugh.”

Bek, risktaker, grabs El’s other paw. “I wouldn't. Well, I might, but only because you’re quite pretty.”

“It’s called, uh, What Falling In Love Feels Like.”

Oh. uh, “Oh. is it- would you say it’s accurate?”

“I’m not sure I know enough about love.”

Of course. Killer blow. The musician plays a note that horribly clashes and Bek crashes herself back down to Earth.

“Maybe…” El hasn’t made any effort to remove her paws from the other’s grip, “Maybe you could show me?”

Bek does stifle a giggle, if just because she’s being sent on a bloody roller coaster right now. “Show you what falling in love feels like? How would I do that, besides my general charms and nice face, eh?”

“Someone told me at some point it was like dancing. Would you- care to dance?”

“I won’t promise to be good-”

“Oh you’re a fighter, it’s the same skill set really.” El says, clearly having made up her mind, and she pulls Bek properly flush to her, and begins to step in time with the waltz, counting under her breath. Bek has to rip her eyes away from El’s to watch their feet, match the rhythm, not completely trample the rat she has a crush on who just asked her to show her what falling in love felt like. Which is in itself a crazy situation. So she’s not going to fuck it up by stepping wrong.

And it is a bit like fighting, in terms of following your partner’s movements reverently, leaning when they lean, saying when they sway. Bek risks spinning El, twirling her and then grabbing her hand again, and El seems delighted, as small specks of paint fly off her face.

“You look beautiful.” Bek admits, painstakingly honest compared to her usual advances.

“So do you, actually. I think-” El cuts herself off, focusing again on the dance, resting her head on Bek’s chest. “I- you’re-” “Don’t worry about that right now, eh? Dance with me. Worry about that later.” 

“Will you be here, later?” “Not planning on going anywhere, am I?”

“In which case, I’m going to teach you how to do this properly.”

“I thought I was doing a great job!” El laughs, and it’s like the sun. Yes it’s the middle of the night. Allow Bekyamon some dramatics. 

And they dance as long as the pianist plays, and Bek does get kind of good at it! She swears! And it’s comfortable, and nice, and Bek tries her absolute hardest to ignore her heart going a mile a minute in her chest. 

It’s nice. And Bek is decidedly less shit at dancing by the end of it. And maybe El is somewhat a little bit in love. That would be nice. No promises though.

[untilthenextencore]

"Nights To Remember Ch. 5: You Belong To Me~..."

~

~

Jimmy & Dahlia made their exit from the Chuco sometime after that. The smallest thing triggered it. The funniest thing. A song by the Duprees. And a shared look after one last dance.

"See the pyramids along the Nile…

Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle…

Just remember, darling, all the while…

You belong to me…"

The look they shared was laden with understanding. A flicker of a shared shy, sheepish smile. A soft laugh at how fitting the song was then.

They both knew it was time. It was in their nerves. In their blood. A little flicker in their eyes.

Jimmy laced his fingers through hers, hand swallowing hers as he gazed down at her. "Shall we?"

Dahlia nodded simply. "Let's go."

Jimmy slipped out of his jacket, draping it around her shoulders before leading her back out into the now much cooler night. He nodded & smiled in greeting, tossing a few waves to some cheering fans before they were both tucked safely back into the quiet private depths of the backseat of the town car he arrived in.

"Darling, you really shouldn't have run off like that. You really did give me quite a fright. Though I'm glad you left word for me with Peter." He tutted, patting her hand.

"Of course, baby." She reached up to cup his face tenderly & thumbed the swell of his cheek. "Like you already said I didn't want to worry you. I got bored back there but saw you were still having fun. I knew Peter would get the word to you in where I had gone. If you didn't already know or guess. I just got homesick I guess. Missed things. Missed the place. The fun. You know. The old days I guess."

The old days.

Memories danced in Jimmy's mind. Of more dances here. More dances at the Chuco. Inside under the tinted light. Outside on the patio. Under the streetlight. Under the stars. Under the moon.

From the first time she took him there in his Yardbirds days to then. Through all lengths of his hair. Through all lengths of his beard. Both before & after his beard. Pinstriped trousers, jeans, velvet bellbottoms. Silk blouses, lace trim, simple cotton. No matter what he wore he was always welcome. She was always welcome. They were always welcome.

It wasn't hard to see why she loved it.

Why she missed it.

Why she escaped.

The other party was the complete opposite.

Though she stuck out in both like a sore thumb - albeit a stunningly beautiful one - it was clear, she fit this one like a glove.

"I'm sorry if I worried you at all, Jimmy. I thought maybe if I went along with Robert when he offered you'd have less to worry about."

Jimmy stifled a laugh. Stifled a grin. Barely. After all these years. Even after that night. She still had no idea. He was glad in a way. It meant Robert hadn't tried anything. It also meant that certainly Magnet hadn't either. It meant she was still safe. Still his. Still secure.

"Forgive me?"

And thus, so was he.

Cupping her face in his large hands, Jimmy cooed in a dragon's curl of smoke from the cigarette he had just finished. "There's nothing to forgive, my dear. Nothing. As long as you're safe."

Dahlia beamed at him, placing her hands over his cupping her cheeks, starry-eyed as ever. "I had a wonderful time tonight, darling. Hope you did too. Despite the slight fright I gave you."

His smile grew before his lips pressed to her forehead once more. "My dearest. My sweetest. My loveliest. My only. My girl. My lady. My Dahlia."

His heart swelled in his chest at what he saw flickering in her gaze. The light. The devotion. The purity. Purity of gaze. Of heart. Of love. Of feeling. Of emotion. Pure, raw emotion.

All of this led him to make one simple promise. "The night's not over yet, my girl. My lady. It is but still young for us."

"I bless the day I found you…

I wanna stay around you…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Jimmy's smile brightened at the sound of the Everlys crooning over the radio. "Remember this song, my darling?"

"Don't take this heaven from one…

If you must cling to someone…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Dahlia's smile quirked in the same way. Instantly, she read his mind. "Palomino, 1969."

They shared a private giggle. A favorite date of theirs. A favorite memory of theirs. Jimmy taking Dahlia to see the Everly Brothers at the Palomino in 1969. Holding hands. Holding her close. Sneaking squeezes of her hand. Sneaking little clinches. Sneaking kisses. As they did before.

"Each time we meet, love…

I find complete love…

Without your sweet love…

What would life be?..."

As they did then.

Jimmy leant in & nuzzled Dahlia. Nuzzled his wife. She nuzzled back. A low growl sounded in his throat. A purr in hers. A chuckle followed from him. A giggle from her.

The partition rose between them & the front seat. Jimmy's arms came around Dahlia's back, hands caressing the skin left bare by her low backed dress. Dahlia shivered & purred again, reclining back as Jimmy leant her back into the seat. Her arms circled his shoulders as their nuzzling intensified & once again their lips met.

She shivered as she felt his silver jeweled pendant cool against her hot skin.

"Gee whiz, look at his eyes…

Gee whiz, how they hypnotize…

He's got everything a girl could want…

Man, oh, man, what a prize…

Oh, oh…"

As the song played Dahlia gazed up at him in the flickering, intermittent light. The dragon's green fire seared her to the core. A private smile was shared. A tandem flicker. The air crackling between the two as it so often did. And suddenly two pairs of curved lips crashed into each other.

"Heaven up above knows how much…

I love that fella's soul…

Angels sing of a love like this…

I hope our love will grow and grow…"

Jimmy's lips burned a trail of heated kisses down her throat as his hand blazed a trail up her skirt. Her legs fell open instantly. As if on command. Under his spell as ever. Open sesame.

"'Cause, gee whiz, I love that guy…

Gee whiz, my, my, oh my…

There are things we could do…

I could say I love you…

But all I can say is…

Gee whiz…"

His lips trailed back up to claim & conquer hers yet again. Dominating her again. Mauling her again. Dahlia nipped his lower lip softly, earning a throaty growl. The growl of course came with more hungry, devouring kisses.

A sudden gasp left Dahlia's lips, thighs tightening around his hand slightly as Jimmy's fingers shifted her panties aside & his middle finger pressed inside.

"Dahlia… My lady…" He panted.

Dahlia let her legs fall open just that bit wider. Jimmy's finger pressed deeper, curving towards those familiar places he knew so well would elicit those deliriously sweet sounds.

"Ah!..."

And little bucks & lifts & rocks of her hips as she was so doing then. Each little buck allowed her skirt to slip higher and higher up her thigh. The slipping slip dress thusly only revealed more and more of her shifted panties & his working fingers.

The sight of the flickering light, intermittent from passing cars & streetlights, flashing on her exposed core stirred him to no end. The sight of her lips parted. Him parting her lips. His fingers parting them & pumping. Curving. Pressing deep. Making her mewl. It stirred him… To action.

"Oh, my angel…

Come back to me…

And I will love you…

Till eternity…

Oh, my angel…

This fire in my heart…

Consumes my happiness…

Since we are apart…"

Jimmy let Dahlia slip from his arms momentarily, only to bring both hands to his belt & undo it.

"Dahlia… Forgive me… I need..."

Dahlia merely allowed herself to sink down onto the sear & giggled. "There's nothing to forgive… As you said, my love…"

Jimmy hurriedly undid & unzipped his trousers, freeing himself & allowing his length to fall free. Dahlia giggled again & softly stroked his length in greeting. Jimmy jolted, grunting, groaning deeply. He stilled himself, allowing her a few more smooth strokes before acting again.

Taking her hand & once more pressing a kiss to the back before draping her arms around his shoulders. Coming close, he gave her panties a tug down her thighs before embracing her once more. And with that, Jimmy rose over her, drawing his hips back & piercing her in one go.

"Ah!" Cane the tandem response.

"You're mine…

And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

The music was the perfect soundtrack as they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Another giggle was shared between the two before Jimmy pressed deeply once more. Another thrust. Another gasp.

"You're mine…

Your lips belong to me…

Yes, they belong to only me…

For eternity…"

Jimmy rolled his hips into hers slowly. Smoothly. Deeply. He drew out moan after moan. Sigh after sigh. Stirring her from deep within.

Dahlia's back arched, allowing Jimmy to slide the spaghetti straps down her shoulders. There he was able to bunch the silken dress at her waist. There he was able to trail kisses down her neck as her head craned back.

His lips trailed a heated path down to her breasts, circling her nipples & sucking them into peaks as his tongue batted & teased them. The sight of her panties, filmy & now sodden, ringing around her ankle led him to remove them, pocketing them secretly. Then, Jimmy's smile widened as Dahlia's legs wrapped around his waist. Her heels grazed the upholstery on the door behind him, her ankles locked behind his back as he drove consistently into her as they were driven around.

"You're my, my baby…

And you'll always be…

I swear by everything I own…

You'll always, always be mine…"

Dahlia watched as his pendants glinted in the light. Dangling & spinning. Hypnotizing her. Each thrust pierced her to her very core. Stealing her breath away. Her hands slipped under his jacket, sliding along the smooth expanse of skin along his back. Her fingers curled. Nails scoring into his shoulders.

His hips stuttered & faltered only momentarily before snapping harder & ever so slightly faster into her.

"You're mine…" The song crooned.

"Jimmy..." Dahlia mewled, arching her back slightly. The way her eyes both glittered & hazed over caught his eye. He recognized that. Recognized the way her nails dragged from his shoulders down his back. He hissed & shuddered & snapped his hips yet again, thrusting deeper still.

Her legs tightened around him. Walls tightened around him. Arms tightened around him. "Ahhh… Jimmy… Jimmy…"

"Are you close, darling?" He asked with a kiss, even though he already knew.

As he expected, he saw her nod slowly, still with that hazed starry-eyed gaze.

Jimmy smiled, sliding one hand down to brace her hip. His thumb swirled gently on her clit as he began to hone his thrusts in a very pointed fashion. Dahlia gasped softly. The gasp was muffled against his lips as he claimed hers in yet another passionate kiss.

"Mmmm… Me too…" He admitted, with a cheeky grin, muffling his subsequent chuckles into her lips just as she had muffled her gasps.

Now their hips rocked in unison. Lifting & rolling into a sweet, smooth grinding meeting. The two of them colliding over & over.

"Jimmy…" Dahlia mewled.

"Mmm-hmm…" He purred, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand bracing her thigh, keeping it close to him.

"Jimmy… Jimmy…" She nipped his lower lip, causing him to growl. The sound vibrated through her body, making her shiver & clench around him.

She felt him drive into her clenching tightness in a few short quick thrusts, aiming for her spot just so & jolted. Another gasp fell from her lips as her back arched. She clutched into him & with the last of his thrusts as he grunted & groaned, he spilled & she shattered.

Galaxies collided as their bodies had, shattering & spreading stardust across her vision, the stars he had seen in her eyes sealed with a bated breath sigh of his name & kiss.

"Jimmy..."

The same stars she saw alight in his now as his lids fluttered open. Emerald depths twinkling in greeting as their gazes met.

"My lady…"

"Jimmy…"

Her fingers drew their last trails down his back. Another hiss fell from his lips as he stirred deep within her, filling her as he braced her body to his. Large right hand still bracing her thigh to his hip. His left arm still wrapped around her, keeping her stomach flush against his.

"I love you…"

He swore as his lips retook & staked their claim on hers at the same time. Deep, passionate, grateful, sated, yet all the more hungry kisses greeted her on the way down as they both recovered.

"I love you…"

She sighed her pledge in return.

Another purr sounded as despite the eternity their hurried climb & easy float down from their peak seemed to take, they both registered the last words of the song then on the radio. Fitting as ever. As always.

"And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

~

Hope y'all enjoy~!

As ever, this is forever under construction~!

[sarahfeliciam]

The Ultimatum Ch 20

All three of them had fallen asleep in the living room that night and somewhere around 3 am, Emeline heard Sirius stumble over something and begin swearing profusely. 

She yawned and wiped the sleep from her eyes as she searched for him in the dark and stood to light a candle.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Midnight snack?” He grinned cheekily.

“Sirius, it’s 3 am.” She glanced back at her father, still sound asleep and snoring. “You’re going to wake the entire town.”

“I’m sorry, I actually just got back.”

“Back! Back from where?” She exclaimed. “If you’re caught you’ll be sorry, Sirius. It was bad enough you came with dad to the platform.”

“Oh, please. Hardly anyone was on that train. Only losers go home for the holiday.”

“Gee, thanks. Now tell me where you were.”

“It’s top secret.”

Her father was stirring now and she rolled her eyes, lowering her voice. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“I still want a snack, though.” 

“I’ll come with you to make sure you don’t set the entire cottage ablaze.” Emeline sighed, trailing him quietly to the kitchen and lighting a second small candle. 

“I’m just joking. You’re not a loser.” Sirius whispered, still quite loud in Emeline’s opinion.

“I appreciate it. You can’t blame me for wanting to be home.”

“No, I can’t.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for what a disaster your life has been the past few years.”

He meant it genuinely, yet Emeline couldn’t help but snicker. 

“I appreciate that. It is a bloody disaster. Well it was, until dad came around. Then we’ve got the whole end of year bit last term. Things are better now, don’t you agree?”

“Well I think that’s naturally how relationships go.” He shrugged. “You’re used to us by now.” 

“I suppose.” She quieted as she started up a sandwhich on a thick slice of rustic bread. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, grabbing a slice of cheese and noting the look Remus had mentioned before: the wheels turning in her mind. 

“Nothing.”

“Convincing.”

Emeline sighed and turned to face him.

“Relationships and all, I guess.”

“Oh, issues with your red - headed knight?”

Emeline smiled. 

“No. As a matter of fact, he’s invited me to the Yule Ball.”

“A date!” Sirius exclaimed excitedly. 

“Shh! Keep it down!” She shot a nervous glance to the living room. Her father had moved but was still asleep as far as she could tell.

“Ahh, don’t want your old man to know yet. I get it. He’s a little wild about that, especially after a moon. But if George isn’t the problem - who is?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“Sirius, it’s really nothing.”

“Then you won’t mind telling me.”

Remus was half awake. 

And part of him felt guilty for not making that known. 

But he was curious in what his daughter could confide in Sirius and not him, and listening had worked in her favor for comfort the last time a conversation like this transpired between the two of them. That was enough encouragement for him to lay low. 

Besides, he did desperately want to go back to sleep.

“I’ll tell you.” She whispered, unsettled nerves growing in her stomach. “Just keep it down.”

He nodded with big eyes, making a motion to get on with it.

“My friend I wrote dad about; the one visiting from Beauxbatons?”

She handed Sirius his sandwhich and he took a large bite, crumbs falling out of his mouth everywhere.

“Okay, one: gross. Two: I spoke with her. And,” she trailed off for a moment. Remus felt her eyes on him before she turned around, convinced he was still asleep despite not noticing the lack of snoring. “And it turns out she isn’t allowed to be friends with me.. anymore.”

It took Sirius a moment. Living in ignorant bliss at the cottage now and imprisoned in Azkaban years before had somewhat removed him from the social prejudices that could so easily affect his best mate’s and niece’s life. In their safe little shell here at the cottage, the world didn’t feel that way. It clicked fairly fast for him as their school days and Moony’s desperation to keep his condition a secret flooded back to him. 

“I see.” He said quietly. “And how do you feel?”

Remus’ heart lurched into his throat and he felt sick. This was a main concern he had always held for Emeline: his condition becoming common knowledge and affecting her. 

“Emeline?” Sirius asked again, concerned as she wiped her face slowly with the damp cloth at the sink. 

“I’m sorry, I just feel kind of sick. No matter, the truth is that I can’t believe I was ever friends with such a bitch. It’s disgusting.”

Remus’ eyes widened. Despite it only being a little over a year, he didn’t know his daughter to be so aggressive and had rarely heard her swear (which he would immediately reprimand, anyway.) His heart was broken for her friendship and for this to create such animosity in his daughter’s spirit. He felt even worse now.

Emeline took a seat, nausea biting at her throat.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah,” she waved a hand at him. “Maybe I’m hungry too.” 

He offered her the other half of his sandwhich and she smiled gratefully.

Remus stayed silent but a sad smile pulled at his lips. He had noticed this connection with her last year, with their silent communication. He didn’t know it went into feelings like this and he wasn’t sure what it was. He made a note to owl Poppy about it - certain she would have an idea and convinced it was something to do with the lycanthropy sensitivities in his genes; genes he had always thought Emeline had zero of. 

“Please don’t tell my dad.” She broke the silence. “It’ll break his heart and I can’t bear to see that in him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

The nausea in his throat was replaced by a calming love deep in his soul. He felt peaceful as his daughter continued.

“They’re wrong, you know. It’s their loss, those prejudice pricks. My dad would never hurt someone the way they do by shunning people. I think that’s admirable.” 

Sirius smiled.

“Spoken like a true marauder. Anyway, welcome to the club.”

“What club?” She asked curiously.

Had Remus’ eyes been opened, he’d be rolling them once again as he awaited Sirius’ answer: a term he coined in school that always embarrassed his mate.

“The Moony fan club.” 

•

The next morning, Remus had to smile to himself as he found his daughter and friend in the same positions he’d fallen asleep to them in. He had to admire their determination for acting as if nothing had taken place while they all ‘slept peacefully.’

He supposed they all had secrets. 

He stood quietly so not to wake them and went to the kitchen to get some breakfast on for them and pen a letter to Poppy posing his question before Emeline saw it. 

After his success in sending that out, and the smell of pancakes and sausage wafting through the air, he took a seat and watched them peacefully.

How had he gotten so lucky?

Remus could only have imagined a family of his own in his wildest dreams. 

His parents themselves were lovely; devoted and kind. His mother had passed on and his father…Well, sadly he had not mentioned Lyall much to Emeline. Her grandfather was so deep into forgetfulness now that oftentimes he did not even remember Remus. St. Mungos had recommended limiting visits after a large outburst right before he went to teach at Hogwarts left Remus utterly distraught. 

Not only did Lyall not remember him, but the thought of making his father angry by attempting to help him recall was more than he could bear. He dropped gifts or cards on holidays but never signed as son. 

Lyall would’ve loved Emeline, he knew. His father hoped that one day there would be a reunion and it took all of Remus’ convincing and strength for him not to go after Florence’s father that day. 

It tore Lyall apart. 

When Remus was forced to leave Emeline, he thought he’d never see her again. He spent years having dreams of running into a little girl with bouncing curls and lakeside blue eyes. 

He dreamed of hearing her call him daddy and teaching her magic. 

A dream that turned into a nightmare every time he woke from them.

He was born to be her dad. This he knew. He felt such purpose the first time he held her. A deep and animalistic desire to protect her. He would die for her, but had he chosen death versus walking away that day, he knew the chance of ever meeting her again and giving her the full story would be a wash. The truth was, he couldn’t bear to let go of that small sliver of hope. 

The hope that was fulfilled now, sleeping on his couch with half eaten chocolate bars and books strewn about her. His bestfriend on the floor next to her.

This joy was unlike anything he had experienced before. 

Emeline smiled in her sleep. 

•

Remus set the record player on softly as he tidied up around his still sleeping counterparts. 

It was late morning now. 

Breakfast had a warming charm on it, the fire was roaring and it was starting to snow for the first time that winter. The familiar, classical music pulled Emeline from her slumber as her father hummed along with it. She gathered some chocolate wrappers in her hand as she stood and followed him into the kitchen where he trashed some as well. 

“Morning, dad.” She yawned pulling her tousled curls behind her into a loose bun.

He turned to her and smiled, taking the trash and motioning to the table for her food. 

“Goodmorning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?”

“Great.” She responded quickly, taking a seat at the dining table. He sat across from her and nodded.

“Good, I’m glad.”

As she started to eat, she tuned in to his continued humming and felt a lurch in her stomach at his extremely good mood. She ate slowly, before glancing up again and finding his eyes on her, smiling slightly again. She swallowed thickly. 

“I have a weird reverse psychology feeling looming over me right now and I don’t know why.” She said carefully, setting her fork down.

“I’m sorry?” Remus laughed, his eyes twinkling. “I’d do no such thing.” He stirred his coffee calmly with a spoon, eyes still on her. 

“Something’s off.” Emeline continued, feeling ill at the thought of him hearing their conversation. Remus felt a knot in his stomach, too, and completely ignored it as he calmed himself and kept this blissful mood close. 

Her anxiety soothed as quickly as it came.

“Well, I have plans for us today.” He said cheerfully. 

“Plans I can’t wait to be a part of.” Sirius said, bounding into the room with a stretch.

Remus laughed. 

“I have to divulge something to you both,” he looked between them. “I snuck out last night to secure some… funds from my family’s vault.”

Remus looked at him with a comically incredulous glare. “You don’t say!” He smacked his hand down on the table and Emeline’s mouth fell open. 

“I am so uncomfortable right now.” 

“Oh, don’t be! The funds are for you.” He said excitedly, shoving a pancake in his mouth. “Chocolate? Delicious.” 

“For me? For what?” Emeline asked, further confused.

“You are going to the Yule Ball, aren’t you?” Remus asked calmly, sipping his coffee.

Emeline’s face broke into a smile as it dawned on her and Sirius smirked. 

“Oh, she’s going alright! And not alone!” He responded in a singsong voice. 

She blushed and covered her face in her hands.

“Kill me!” 

“Em! Come now, you didn’t want to tell me you wanted to go - let alone with someone? I’m not that bad, am I?”

Emeline shook her head quickly side to side.

“Well, we all know who it is. Let’s hear it from you.” Sirius encouraged.

Emeline peaked out between her fingers.

“Dad! Stop smiling like that.”

“Fine, no smiling anymore in this house.”

She rolled her eyes at his deadpan face and shot him one back.

“Alright, then. Dad, George has asked me to the Yule Ball.”

Still serious. 

“And, I’ve accepted.”

Remus crossed his arms and nodded.

“That’s wonderful, darling.”

Emeline now found this game amusing and crossed her arms as well.

“Mhm, very. But I was hoping we could go dress shopping today since I have nothing to wear and I’d like to attend clothed versus-“

Sirius spit out his coffee and Remus blinked rapidly, still staring stoically. 

“Emeline Mara Lupin, are you using reverse psychology on me?” 

“I’d do no such thing.”

It only took a few more moments before they broke down in laughter and Remus stood. 

“Get your cloak, pup. And Padfoot, get into character. We’ve a dress and Christmas tree to secure.”

Emeline grinned at the idea of another live tree. 

Their first continued tradition. 

•

Emeline was always amazed by Diagon Alley. She was a sucker for coziness and charm and the cobblestone and wood with all of the fascinating magical objects, not to mention books, totally stole her heart. She walked at a reasonable pace with Padfoot behind them, as she didn’t want to tire Remus having been so close to the past moon. 

He regularly chided her for catering to him and reminded her again how old it made him feel, out of guilt or embarrassment she was sure. She regularly reminded him in return that it was in her nature to be caring and who better to be on the receiving end than her father. Occasionally she threw in the word feeble to really get a rise. 

“You’re quite brisk today.” She pestered, catching up to his strides in surprise.

“Maybe you’re just falling behind, pup.” He quipped, tousling her hair gently which brought forth a groan and a desperate look in the nearest mirror to rectify. 

Remus chuckled and was sure Sirius would be, was he in human form, as well. They made no effort to stop for her beauty check and she ran to catch up with them when she’d fallen behind again. 

“Well, here’s our first stop.” 

Emeline stared at the dresses in the window with fairly wide eyes. She wasn’t sure what funds Sirius had, but she knew her father had practically none, and she felt out of place. Remus pulled the door open for her and smiled.

“Changed your mind?”

“No.” She smiled softly, following Padfoot into the shop. 

He ran a circle around her and angled his snout up to pull her attention to a particularly revealing dress toward the front. 

“Cheeky mutt.” She grinned. “Not my style.”

“Thank Merlin for that.” Remus muttered under his breath. 

She surveyed everything in front of her slowly, taking it all in and having the least clue what she was searching for. She was excited for today and anxious now to find the right one, but despite her joy, sadness slowly crept in out of nowhere.

“I miss mum.” She blurted out as she turned to her father. Remus nodded knowingly and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I thought that might arise today. She should be here for this.” He agreed. “Did her favorite color stay lavender?” He offered, attempting to at least start her in a direction.

“Yes.” She smiled, heading toward the purple tones. “It was.”

She fingered through the rack, many catching her eye but none being the one. Emeline was very picky with style and thus, hadn’t completely found hers yet. Plus, it was hard to focus with her father and uncle even more out of place than her. 

As she studied the dresses, she heard a familiar voice behind her and her blood turned cold.

Calliope.

“Em?” Remus asked, feeling her frozen emotion.

“I don’t think any of these are the one.” She said hurriedly. “Maybe we can look for the tree first.”

“Darling, the trees aren’t in Diagon Alley, you know that. You can take all the time you need.”

“I don’t want to take anymore time, I’m done looking.” She glanced back nervously and noted that her old friend had not yet spotted her.

Remus furrowed his brows in confusion. “Emeline, calm down. You’re alright. I know it’s an emotional time, b-“

“-please.” She looked up at him desperately. 

Before he could respond, she closed her eyes painfully at the voice that came up behind her.

“Hi, Emeline.” 

She turned to face her. All alone wearing an unsure smile. 

“Leave me alone.”

Sirius let out a low growl and Emeline put her hand down at his snout to stop him.

“I just wanted to say I was so-“

“-save it.”

“Emeline!” Remus cut in. “I apologize,” he smiled sadly to Calliope. 

“I didn’t ask you to apologize for me!” Emeline fired back with a glance to her father. “You have alot of nerve, you know that, Calliope.”

“I do know. But I can’t stand how we left things. I just can’t change my parents, I -“

“-neither can I! And I don’t want to! Please don’t waste my time ever again.”

“There’s another shop.” Remus said softly, breaking their tension. 

“No, Mr. Lupin, I’m sorry, I’ll leave. And I truly am.. sorry.” She hung her head and left without another word and Emeline stood rooted to her spot until Remus addressed her again.

“Emeline, I can’t condone you treating someone that way.”

Whatever she was expecting him to say, it couldn’t have possibly been that. Her jaw dropped and she went to speak, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Don’t. When you behave that way, you are no better. I need you to understand. Don’t lose your kindness - I’ve seen it time and time again and I value it so strongly in you.”

Emeline nodded slowly and blinked back tears.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“You know who she was.” Emeline stated fact more than asked a question.

Remus smiled. 

“I do,” he pondered slowly. “And that’s why I’m sorry.” 

She played absentmindedly with the hem of an emerald dress.

“Why don’t you just try a few things on? You’ll have a clearer picture when you step back, Emeline.”

She eyed Sirius, who was on the ground panting, and her father, still somewhat reliant on his cane.

“Is that okay?” She ventured.

“Take as long as you need.”

•

Remus was grateful he brought a novel with him when Emeline took his advice literally and took hours trying on practically every dress in the shop. He glanced up everytime, offered commentary, and then agreed with her when she decided it was the worst dress she could possibly choose. He was certainly exhausted and wouldn’t dare use more energy arguing with her, but the truth was, he hadn’t seen her eyes light up yet. 

He remembered it with Florence. 

The way her eyes changed in her first special occasion dress; The shimmer he couldn’t help but stare at the entire time she was on his arm. He realized then what the glimmer was and what his daughter was, for some reason, lacking.

Confidence. 

“Em?” he called out to her, behind the door of the dressing room once again.

“Hang on! This one is hideous too.”

He laughed and closed his book. “I have an idea.”

She came out wearing her same jeans and navy blue turtleneck tucked in. Her star necklace hung against her chest and her hair was falling in her typical, simple curls. Her boots were half undone and she sighed when she looked at him.

“What’s that?”

“Go take one more look around. Choose the dress you’d choose if no one was here but you.”

“I wasn’t kidding,” she scoffed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead showing half my skin in that.” She pointed to the dress Sirius had jokingly pointed out in the front. 

“I don’t mean that one; I’d hope not.” He sighed, relieved. “But I think it’ll clear your head. Just trust me. Go choose the dress you want.” 

He returned to his book and she nodded, taking a deep breath before surveying the dresses once more. There was one she wanted; but she couldn’t possibly dredge up those memories. 

The dress she liked was one that looked strikingly similiar to one she’d seen in her mother’s old school photos. 

She glanced back at Remus and decided to give his advice a try. Her mother was so beautiful, could she be, too?

As she headed back into the dressing room, Remus caught a glimpse of the shining silver fabric and knew his work here had been done. 

As if on cue, Emeline stepped out from the dressing room in a floor length, shimmering silver gown. It was straight and simple with an open back and small straps. She toyed with her necklace nervously with tears stinging at her eyes.

Remus stood quickly and took his place in front of her. He raised her head to meet his eyes and she watched him anxiously. He smiled at the twinkle in her own - there it was.

“Do you feel the way you look?” He asked quietly.

“How’s that?” She smiled.

He took her hand away from the necklace and forced her nervous fidgeting to cease before responding just under his breath: “Beautiful, pup.”

[ambitiousauthor]

Kasha and Delaney: Chapter 1

I am for sure going to lose my job over this.

Let’s go over some quick facts, shall we?

Fact number one: My name is Delaney Rodriguez.

Fact number two: I work at an ‘Aquatic resort’ called Sea Friends.

Fact number three, I am about to do something illegal. Like, felony-level illegal.

A dark fin as tall as I am slices through the water like a knife. There’s a weight behind my throat when it vanishes.

Let’s go over some more facts, shall we?

Fact number three, the illegal thing I am about to do involves smuggling a four ton cetacean out of the front gates.

How am I doing this?

Magic.

Specifically, a spell I found while doing some wikipedia deep dives last week.

The Orca- Kasha- spyhops the best she can in the too shallow pool, looking at me as though she knows why I’m here.

I take a deep breath, and start reciting the words.

It feels like ants start crawling under my skin, biting and tearing, but I keep going, clouds parting in the dark sky until the moon shines into the water like a spotlight.

When the last words leave my throat, Kasha the orca is gone. No more orca. I fold up the Wikipedia printout and shove it in my pocket.

If I did that right, she’ll be in the ocean by now.

I’ve done a good-

Something just moved. A massive, pale hand- easily the size of my head- gripping the barrier between me and the pool.

One solid, fluid movement later, and a massive, soaking wet, wall of muscle tenses in front of me, staring at me like she’s guessing how I’ll taste.

“Soft-tooth.” That voice is haunting, like the old myths of sirens off the coast of Greece, luring sailors aplenty to their deaths. It reaches into my bones, pulling out fear.

She whistles, a high pitched, shrill noise of irritation, which finally gets the point across that she is talking to me.

“Yeah?” My throat is dry, voice scratchy from nerves and adrenaline.

“Soft-tooth is..” She pauses, tugging back a hank of kelp-dark hair from her face.

“Scared?” I manage to squeak.

She raises an eyebrow. “Not right noise.”

“Are you.. Kasha?” I ask.

A whistle of irritation. “Kash-aa?”

“Yeah, there was a killer whale-“ a shower of water hits my face. She’s holding another handful, black eyes narrow. “Not whale”

“Ok.. does orca sound better?”

Her head tilts, sending muscle rippling down her neck.

“Better.”

“Are you an orca?” I ask. I have to know. Did that stupid Wikipedia article actually work?

She reaches up, scowling at her hands, then pushes long, dark fingernails past her lips. “Yesh” she says around them. “No shoft-teef.” She takes her finger out of her mouth and smiles.

Oh god, that’s an orca, I just turned four tons of dolphin into a 6 foot something wall of muscle with opposable thumbs, I am SO going to lose my job.

She vanishes under the water, then reappears on the other side of the pool a minute later, right next to the beaching slab used in the orca shows.

She pulls herself out of the water.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

She’s out of the water, she can walk, what have I done?

What will I do?

I can’t exactly put her in my Prius..

Notes:

- Kasha’s exact height is 6 feet and 7.6 inches!

- this chapter hasn’t been edited yet :,)

Taglist:

@thestuffedalligator, @residents-of-the-darkforest, @salty-squid223

[sorp-trrmasterlist]

Chasing the Moon, Chapter 1: Smitten

Summary: AU to The Royal Romance where Olivia and Drake were involved before the social season. What would happen when the newcomer from New York arrives in Cordonia and upsets the balance of old friendships and old love?

Book: The Royal Romance

Words: 2700

Rating: Mature, over 18 only

Drake walked through the halls of the palace with his bag slung over his shoulder. It had been a long flight and he was ready to shower and climb into bed. He opened the door to his room to find Olivia, lounging on his bed in nothing but a red satin thong.

"Welcome back, Walker."

He closed the door behind him letting his bag fall to the floor.

"Duchess Olivia. What a welcome surprise to see you here".

She rose from the bed, stalking over to him, her lips almost touching his as she moved her hands up over his hard biceps, feeling his muscles twitch beneath her touch.

"My, my Mr. Walker. I do believe you have managed to get even sexier since I last saw you." She moved her hand down over his already hardening bulge.

"And you, my Saucy Duchess,” he bent down lifting her effortlessly over his shoulder as she squealed, "have become even more unmanageable." Drake tossed her playfully onto the bed with a smirk. "Guess I'm going to have to teach you a lesson, Duchess." He laid his body down over hers, enveloping her mouth in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss.

"You taste as good as I remember, Drake,” Olivia cooed, then quickly unbuttoned his shirt and ripped off the T-shirt underneath. She ran her hands up the taught muscles of his back and took in a long inhale, relishing the smell of his skin and the way it soothed her nerves.  Her fingers moved down his back, slowly, taking in each tiny imperfection.  She had memorized every scar and bump by touch and could tell you exactly where it came from and what it looked like.  Her hands continued down to grip his muscular ass through his jeans and she pulled him closer, needing to feel him against her.

Olivia felt his hot breath moving across her skin and his lips were now hovering over her nipple.  He abruptly pulled it into his wanting mouth, sucking gently and letting his teeth graze her pink bud.

Olivia took a sharp inhale as a zip of excitement shot from her nipple down to her clit.  Drake smiled, looking up at her through his tussled hair while he moved to her other nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak. His eyes were chocolate and in them, she could see all his desires.

Olivia threw her leg up pushing him over and onto his back as she straddled his hips.  He was rigid beneath her and she felt her clit throbbing with need at the feel of him.  She popped the button on his jeans and moved down pulling the zipper down with her teeth, pushing his jeans and boxers off in one fluid movement. Olivia purred as she took in his long thick length. Her lips brushed the velvety skin and Drake groaned in pleasure and need. Her tongue flicked out tasting the precum leaking out of his swollen head then moved her tongue down his shaft massaging the prominent vein. Her mouth moved back up and she looked at Drake through her long lashes, meeting his chocolate eyes again.

"You want to fuck my mouth or my pussy?" 

Drake inhaled sharply and before he could answer Olivia took all of him into her mouth hitting the back of her throat.

Drake grasped her shoulders and threw her onto the bed, covering her body with his own. He crashed his lips on hers as he ripped her thong from her body and plunged his fingers into her wet core. His thumb expertly circled her clit as he kissed her fervently. He knew every spot she liked to be touched, how she liked it, and when. It only took a few moments for her to fall apart under his touch. He removed his fingers and licked one covered in her essence.

"Fucking delicious."

He then ran the other along her bottom lip, allowing her to taste herself. She eagerly lapped at her juices as their lips crashed together again.

Drake flipped her over onto all fours and lined his cock up with her wet center. He tightly grasped both hips and thrust into her hard and fast. Olivia cried out at the intrusion and moved her hips back into his as he pumped into her. Drake lifted her hips to reach deeper and hit that special spot that makes her scream. He was immediately rewarded, as Olivia fell apart under him, with a gush of fluids, screaming his name. He followed moments later and collapsed onto her back, their sweaty bodies sliding together. Drake's softened dick slipped out of Olivia as he rose from the bed leaning over to offer her a sweet kiss.

"I need to take a shower."

He nodded and moved his naked body to the bathroom. 

She exhaled tired and satisfied.

"Okay,  Drake. I'll be here." 

Olivia heard the shower start and lay in bed alone with her thoughts. She was utterly in love with Drake Walker. Somehow in their little group, they had found each other. They tended to be hot and cold, both sharing similar personality traits. But physically, there was no denying their connection from an early age. They were each other's first kiss, first fuck, and for Olivia, her first love.

Drake sauntered out of the bathroom,  naked, a few moments later, still damp from his shower. He slipped into bed next to Olivia, pulling her close to his body. She felt his soft lips and scratchy stubble on her neck. The contrast was intoxicating. Olivia let out a breath. 

"Tell me about New York." 

Drake shrugged, kissing her neck softly, his hand tracing circles on her abdomen. 

"Not much to tell. It was fun." 

"Well I noticed Liam arrived this morning, but you and the man-child were not with him," she challenged.

Drake chuckled at her nickname for Maxwell. 

"Well, the 'man-child' and I were delayed. Maxwell found a suitor for House Beaumont."

She turned back looking at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

"In New York?" 

He nodded. Olivia was running her red nails softly up and down his arm as they spoke. It was an intimate gesture that had become second nature to her in these special moments. 

"Tell me about her."

Drake exhaled, "Not much to tell. She was our waitress on our last night there."

"A waitress?" Olivia repeated, disbelieving. "Maxwell picked a waitress to compete for the crown?"

"Yep. Liam was smitten."

Olivia turned back to look at Drake. 

"Really?"

He nodded, smiling. 

"I've never seen him like that. He had this goofy grin the whole time. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He said they kissed..." Drake stifled laughter.

"What?" Olivia questioned, smiling.

"Nothing really, it's just that he looked like a teenage boy going on and on about how magical the kiss was." Drake smiled. "It was actually pretty sweet."

Oliva furrowed her brow, "Humph. So, Maxwell decided to ask her to join the social season. And just like that, she agreed?" Drake nodded in response. "Hmmm. Do you think that's a little suspicious?"

"Definitely. But I don't think she's a crown chaser. I mean, I don't know that a waitress from New York can handle the crown, but she seems to really like Liam."

"Does he know? I mean, does Liam know that she is here?"

Drake shook his head. "He will find out at the masquerade tomorrow though."

Olivia exhaled, "Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on her for him."

Drake turned her head to meet his eyes.

"Olivia....that does not mean make her life a living hell, okay?"

"What? If she wants to be at court, she needs to be able to handle herself."

"Yeah,  well your way of initiating someone to court will send her running back to the States."

"Well, if she can't handle..." 

Drake cut her off with a kiss, looking into her green eyes.

"Be nice Liv. Liam likes her, a lot. She might make him happy. And, if she is the one, that lets you off the hook." She smiled at the prospect. "Besides...if you send her running, you'll be cut off for a month." He smirked as he lightly smacked her ass.

Olivia feigned injustice, lightly punching him in the arm. "Alright, alright. I will try to be good."

Drake smiled nuzzling into her body.

"Just not too good, my Saucy Duchess."

Olivia grinned as she felt his breath on the back of her neck slow and become longer. She was glad he was back. Now she felt at home.

The Masquerade 

The following day, Olivia found herself meandering around the ballroom of the masquerade. She was engaging in idle chit-chat with Penelope and Kiara when she saw Drake walk in. He was in his usual jeans and a denim shirt and strode over to the bar tossing Olivia a wink as he went. She fought back a smile as her eyes followed him.

"Who is that?" she heard Kiara say looking at a woman approaching the group.

Olivia rolled her eyes. 

"That's Lady Hana Lee. Her family lives in Shanghai but her mom is connected to a lesser noble house here in Cordonia." 

She watched Hana walk up to the group giving her a tight grin. "Lady Hana, welcome to Cordonia."

"Why thank you, Duchess Olivia, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

Hana was a beautiful woman with glossy brown hair and was a natural beauty. Her gown was sparkling pale pink with a matching mask. She seemed docile and Olivia knew that in theory, she would be a good match for Liam, but Olivia thought they might be too similar. Liam needed someone a touch more independent.

Just then,  Olivia heard the herald announce the suitor of House Beaumont

"Samantha Moretti of New York," and turned her head to spot the woman that had apparently stolen Liam's heart. She looked over to see the woman wearing a red and black dress. It was sheer in spots, strapless, and hugged her curves. She had long brown locks and Olivia could admit she was a beautiful girl. She watched as Maxwell was pulled away by Bertrand and Samantha made a beeline for Drake. 

Olivia knew she was brought here for Liam and that she shouldn't let it bother her, but she felt her stomach turn and a heat rise to her cheeks watching her giggle with Drake. So, Olivia walked commandingly up to the pair and interrupted.

"Pardon me, but I absolutely must steal her away."

Drake nodded silently mouthing "Be nice" to Olivia. She rolled her eyes in response.

"Forgive me for being forward but I have never seen you here before and I always make it a point to know all the ladies at court. I'm Lady Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos. What brings you here, Samantha Moretti from New York?"

Samantha spoke casually looking around the room. 

"Well, I'm here for Prince Liam, same as you I guess."

Olivia laughed. 

"You have no idea what you're getting into, do you?" 

Samantha looked down uncomfortably as Maxwell made his way over to Oliva and Samantha, just as the herald began announcing the Royal family. Drake also joined and Olivia felt him behind her, brushing his hand against hers, momentarily. Olivia felt a flutter in her stomach at his touch and her breath hitched. She looked briefly over her shoulder and gestured with her eyes toward the exit. Drake gulped back the rest of his whiskey and moved quickly toward the door. Olivia followed a few moments later, meeting Drake at the end of a long and abandoned hallway.

Drake stood leaning back against the stone wall with his arms crossed over his chest and one leg, bent at the knee,  propped up against the wall. He was wearing a sexy smirk as she made her way over to him. Olivia walked with just a little extra sway to her full hips and Drake noticed appreciatively.

"Fancy meeting you here, Walker" Drake pushed himself off the wall and met her a few steps later. He raised his hand gently brushing the side of her cheek.

"You look beautiful, Liv." 

Olivia tried to hide the blush rising on her cheeks, unsuccessfully. Drake leaned in and kissed her softly, sucking gently on her bottom lip as he pulled away. 

"So, what did you want to talk about, my Saucy Duchess." 

She smiled remembering their tryst from the night before and falling asleep in his arms.

"Nothing particularly. I talked to the New Yorker."

"Her name's Samantha, Liv."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him off.

"Were you nice?" He teasingly ran his hand down the length of her body, reminding her of his threat. 

Olivia gave him a flirty smile. "Nice enough. She didn't leave, did she?"

Drake smirked. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in there being presented to the Crown Prince?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I hardly think that's necessary."

Drake became serious. "Yeah Liv, it is. You are officially one of his suitors now. You should be in there working the room or whatever you guys do. Not out here with me."

Her smile fell. 

"Drake, you know the deal. If it comes down to it, I will step up and do what's necessary. But it’s not what I want."

"What is it that you want, Liv?" 

Olivia searched  Drake's eyes, about to respond, when Bastien turned the corner.

"Duchess Oliva, Drake," he gave him a warning look. "Shouldn't suitors to the Prince be in the ballroom, Duchess?"

Olivia let go of Drake's hand. "You are correct Bastien.  Thank you for the timely reminder." 

She rolled her eyes and headed back into the ballroom.

Drake let out a long exhale running his hands through his hair. Bastien looked over at him. "Listen, Drake, I know that you and Duchess Olivia have had this thing going on for quite a while." Drake looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid the reprimand about forbidden relationships. "She's Liam's suitor now. Time to decide what the relationship is and what you two plan to do about it. Secret meetings will only get you burned. " He placed a reassuring hand on Drake's shoulder and walked off to the Royal family.

Olivia walked confidently into the ballroom and straight up to Liam.

"Excuse me, may I have this dance?"

"Of course, Duchess Olivia" Liam smiled and led her onto the dance floor. He took her into his arms and Liam's smile fell as he looked down meeting her green eyes.

"So I noticed that you did not present yourself this evening."

Olivia huffed. "Is that necessary Liam? I'm pretty sure you know who I am."

"Indeed, I do. However, there is a chance you could be chosen at the end of this season, Liv.  And it's not going to look very good if my future queen is secretly meeting with my best friend instead of participating in the activities of the social season." Olivia's eyebrow quirked. 

Of course, he would know.

"I'm serious, Liv. I can't choose you if you don't at least try. Plus I heard there may be a surprise suitor brought by Regina."

"Ugh, don't tell me Cuntess Madeline is joining the season." Liam snickered, trying to hold back his laughter. He was unable to speak so only nodded. 

"Fine, I'll start participating more," she puffed out air, annoyed.

"Thank you, Liv. But hopefully, it won't be necessary for you to uphold our deal." He grinned ear to ear and his eyes traveled the room landing on Samantha.

Olivia followed his eyes with a smirk. 

"I heard about House Beaumont's last-minute addition." She looked at his eyes still locked on Samantha from across the room. "Jesus Liam! Drake was right."

"What?" He shrugged, a blush creeping up his neck.

She shook her head. 

"You are definitely smitten, Liam." The dance ended and Olivia whispered in his ear. "Stop staring and go get your girl." She playfully swatted him on his ass as Liam walked away from her, towards Samantha Moretti from New York. 

Tags: @twinkleallnight @walkerdrakewalker @karahalloway

[sasster]

Memento Mori (Enter: Lazarus)

[Google doc for your eyes]

--

It has been quite some time since the last time you visited a church, even factoring the lifetime worth of sweeps that you'd been dead. Isn't that such a weird thing to know? You'd been dead, ushered to the other side and everything, and now you are not.

The ultimate end that all living things work toward, and like a cancerous cell defying apoptosis you continue living. You've found the end to life but like a run-on sentence that ignores the rules of punctuation you didn’t stop.

What exactly does that mean for you?

The church you stand before hangs over you like a monolith, the stained glass that makes up its windows shine dully in the light of the moons. Is this supposed to be inviting? Guilt pools in the pit of your stomach, screaming at you that you are making a terrible decision by being here.

Perhaps survival instinct? Historically, and in your experience, a clown-run church was not typically a place that low bloods came to willingly – Did you ever visit Harlan’s church while he was building it up? No, the thought of his dominion always made your heart hurt.

Well, there's no turning back now, you're already here. Why waste energy thinking too hard about it?

You take a deep breath and…

Nope. You do not move. As much as you steel your nerves, your legs stay cemented to the ground. The massive wooden doors do not move any closer to you.

This is scary, why did you come alone?

Well, it isn't as though you'll walk in and immediately be sent back to the grave. If you can even be killed. Oh god, are you immortal now?

Is life worth living if there is no end to it? There are too many questions you don't have the answers to. You hate not having the answers.

You bring a hand up and pinch the bridge of your nose as a migraine begins to settle along the top of your head. God, you hate not having the answers.

Why isn't this easier?

You sigh. You are far too old for this sort of drama.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you alright?”

The voice that calls out to you comes from behind, it is a very sweet one. It sort of chimes in an unnatural way, too, as though it does not belong to the body that is using it. You turn around to face the source. Your company seems pleasant, dressed in a yellow dress decorated with sunflowers, and a great big bow tied up in the back. She is holding  a crate of what appears to be squashes that she balances against her hip. Must’ve been retrieved from the garden that stretches across the length of the church. Her smile is delightful.

There’s just one more thing about her though. She’s made of wood. You return her smile, wrapping your arms up across your chest and squeezing them tightly.

“No, uhm. I’m fine.” Are you?

She breathes out a relieved sigh. She breathes?

“Oh good, you seemed unwell for a moment there!”

“Ah,” You squeeze your arms one more time before gesturing uselessly to the church behind you. “My – Uhm. It’s my first time. I’m a little intimidated.”

“Oh!” Her exclamation is infectious, she is clearly excited about this. “Well! What if you didn’t go alone?”

That would’ve been the smart thing to do, wooden stranger.

You tilt your head when she doesn’t continue speaking, she watches politely as the realization begins to dawn.

“Oh, you mean – You! I – Well, I couldn’t impose. You’re busy!”

It’s her turn to tilt her head this time, it looks like she is assessing not just your reaction to her offer but to her as a concept.

In your defense, she is a full articulated, living, and breathing marionette. After a brief moment, she speaks again.

“Well, then you can just do me a favor too.”

“What could I possibly – ”

Before the full question gets out, she presses the crate into you. You instinctively wrap an arm around it.

“See look! Now I owe you one.”

That gets a sort of breathless laugh out of you, taking the nerves along with it. Wow, she’s good.

“I guess so! Does that one always work?”

“Hasn’t failed me yet!”

You adjust the crate so that it sits more comfortably.

“I’m Marrie!” She bounces on the balls of her heels as she speaks, watching you with kind eyes. There’s so much life in her. “You got a name…”

She stops and lets her gaze sweep over you, taking in your wrinkles, greys, and other signifiers of age no doubt.

“Or, uhm, title I guess?” Marrie giggles. “Not that I think you’re old or anything!”

“Oh, please. I am– I am very old, Marrie.” No longer sick and dying, but still terribly terribly old.

“Yeah… I can tell.” She stops again and throws her hands up. “Not like to be mean or anything!”

You laugh. “It’s fine, no problem. And no title necessary. You can just call me Orfuse.”

“What a lovely name! Orfuse! I like it a lot!”

“Thank you!”

“Dad’ll like you. He doesn’t mind whatever you call him, so you don’t have to worry about all of that.” As she speaks, she starts to walk past you toward the church. You are familiar with the Restorer, how easy it is to have a conversation with him. You remember that interview quite well, actually.

Though.

Dad, not Father? He made her. Did he animate her too? Or did he just put her together. Your mind starts to race again, you’d love nothing more than to be able to write all of these questions down in your journal. What would you even do with the answers to them?

It would be rude to ask him about the logistics behind his daughter, and you are much more interested in his mastery over life and death anyway. Where does his influence end?

Your thoughts are interrupted.

“You coming?”

“Yes – Sorry!” You tighten your grip on the crate of vegetables. “Just uhm. I got distracted.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Orfuse, you’re handling the whole marionette thing better than most people I meet.”

You start walking after her, suddenly a little embarrassed over your conduct.

“That obvious, huh? Sorry about that.”

“No worries!” She says as she bumps the door open with her hip, then uses her foot to hold it in place. “After you!”

Marrie beams as you enter home.

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

Preparing for the wedding

Annabeth woke up before her alarm. She was laying her head on Percy’s chest, who was still asleep. His arm was on her waist holding her close even when they were sleeping. She was so in love with him. It was a big problem. One day he was getting on her nerves and the other they were getting married. The events of the past few days were playing in her mind again and again. From Thalia bailing the wedding 4 days ago as she was stranded in Alaska to her younger brothers flying earlier to surprise her and Rachel never leaving her side as she helped her handle every crisis that came up.

The Thalia part had hurt her a lot. She was her first friend, and she wasn’t going to show up on her wedding day. Percy had suggested to wait a few days if that would made her feel better, but she didn’t want to wait any longer to get married to him. Even with the cost of Thalia. She was tired of waiting for her to show up. This time it wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t wait around. They had gone for the separate ways, and it was probably for the best.

Bobby and Matthew showing up was a pleasant surprise that made her feel better about the whole Thalia situation. Since she had gone to college in California and spent time with her brothers she realised how much they had in common. They opened up to her and after Annabeth moved back to New York they never lost touch again. She had even managed to make amends with her stepmother. The past few years definitely looked great to her. No more Gods or monsters, just her, healing all of her past wounds and making her 7 year old proud of how far she had come.

She was deep in thought when she felt Percy waking up. He brushed his arm on her lower back and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Good morning, love of my life. How long have you been awake for?”

“5 minutes? Maybe less.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow. Do you realise that?” Percy said with excitement in his raspy morning voice.

“I haven’t fully grasped it yet, but I’m getting there. We have a lot of things to do today. With everyone arriving at the venue and everything. Rachel is coming over at 8 to pick up some things.”

“Don’t worry about Rachel. She has her own keys. We have to get her a really good gift. After everything.”

“I’ll think about something.”

“Maybe our first born.” Percy joked. “But it’s Rachel. She wants nothing, but our happiness. How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. Excited. Incredibly happy.” Annabeth replied.

“About Thalia?” He asked a bit more tentatively.

“It’s fine, I guess. We knew that at some point she was going to disappear. It’s the cost that comes with being a hunter. I feel a little guilty that I have gotten over it so fast. If that happened a few years ago I would be a mess for weeks.”

“We have grown a lot. Emotionally I mean. Being 17 and 23 is completely different.”

“You’re a lot wiser nowadays.”

“What can I say? Fiancé Percy is a lot smarter than Boyfriend Percy.”

“What about Husband Percy. What is he like?” Annabeth smirked as she sat up, closing the back between them.

“I guess you have to sit around long enough to see yourself.” He kissed her neck which made Annabeth heat up. “How are you feeling?”

“Over the moon that from tomorrow I can call you my wife. It has a nice ring to it. I might not be able to keep it together.”

Annabeth couldn’t help, but smile. “Are you going to get emotional?”

“I will definitely cry.” He replied all serious that made Annabeth laugh. “Watching the love of my life walking down the aisle makes me all sentimental. I thought you loved my soft side.” He pouted.

“I am not complaining.” She smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I just love you so much, it’s overwhelming.”

“I love you too, Wise Girl.” He kissed her softly on the lips before their fingers intertwined. “Come on, I’ll make us breakfast.”

30 minutes later they were eating pancakes and drinking coffee on the kitchen island. The door unlocked as Rachel came inside. “Good morning, my lovely friends.” She said as she let two boxes and a few shopping bags near the door. “Eating breakfast without me? I thought you wouldn’t wake up.”

Percy presented her, her own plate with blueberry pancakes and chocolate syrup. “You thought I would let you starve?”

“Thank you. So, wedding preparations.” Rachel said as she put a mouthful of pancakes in her mouth. “The wedding planner is already on the venue preparing everything for the rehearsal dinner. What time are we having the rehearsal?”

“Around 1.” Annabeth replied. “The wedding party will be there by then. And then we’re all having lunch by the sea.”

“We should head out soon.” Percy said as he gathered the plates and put them in the sink. “We have to load the cars and everything.”

“Don’t you have practise?” Rachel asked him.

“I was going to help you load the car and until you get ready I would do a few laps in the pool.” He explained. With the Olympic qualifications around the corner, Percy couldn’t lose his form. His coach had said it repeatedly the past few weeks. But he was wiling to take a break so that he could focus on his fiancée and their wedding.

“I can’t believe that next year you’re going again on the Olympics next year.” Rachel smiled.

“I haven’t qualified yet. I might go.”

“That’s what you were saying about Beijing as well.” Annabeth noted. “You’re going to qualify and then win a couple medals for me.” She kissed him on the cheek, “I’m going to take a quick shower. All the boxes we need to load are the ones in the living room.”

Percy had to load his car and Rachel’s car three times. Meanwhile, his phone was filled with texts from his friends that were flying in for the wedding. From college, swim meets and from Camp. He was grateful that he was going to share his and Annabeth’s day with all of their friends. As he was done with his morning gym and laps his phone started ringing. “Hey mum, how are you?”

“I’m good. I just called you to let you know that we’re all set to go. Do you need us to take anything else? Did everything fit in the car?”

“We’re ready as well. I’ll just take a shower and we’ll leave.”

“Alright, hon. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“You’ll be on top of my list.” Percy said before saying goodbye to her and closing the phone.

“Are we ready for operation wedding?” He asked as Annabeth got in the passenger sit and prepared the aux.

“I’ve been ready for the last 6 years.” She said and kissed him.

[godlizzza]

middleaged danbert thought: this is silly but i feel like the only two things preventing herbert from adopting piper is 1. her mother and 2. his refusal to be attached to anyone and anything. daughter or not, both of them have such a weird, fucked up but sweet relationship and i wanna see more stuff about them

"What is this?" Herbert asked, eying the wrapped parcel Piper pushed into his hands.

She bounced on the balls of her feet, glancing away and fiddling with the hem of her purple sweater. Herbert just waited, knowing that she would eventually work through her nerves. Piper had been his apprentice for nearing on three years and Herbert disliked that he was learning to read her body language. It seemed at odds with everything he'd worked to accomplish in his life that he should be able to sense the mood of a nine-year-old girl.

Yet, there he was, standing in his kitchen, two glasses on the counter before him. One was filled with water, the other chocolate milk. Piper shrugged, her braids flopping over her shoulders with the motion.

"A present," she replied simply.

"If you're still trying to guess when my birthday is," Herbert said, unwrapping the package, "it's not today."

Piper scrunched her nose up with a frown. "It's not a birthday present, it's just a present."

Herbert merely grunted in response, then pulled the object free from the sparkly gold wrapping paper. It was a mug sloppily painted with large blobs of every colour imaginable. Written across it in black it read, World's Best Doctor. Herbert stared down at it in silence for a moment before looking up at Piper, who was watching him keenly.

"What's this for?" Herbert eventually asked.

"I told you already," Piper answered. "It's a present."

"For...what?"

"For just because! Miss Kelly said we should make something for someone important to us."

"And you didn't think to make something for one of your parents?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "I make them stuff all the time. They get presents on Mother's Day and Father's Day and a bunch of other days. I wanted to make something for you."

Herbert pursed his lips, looking from Piper staring shyly at her sneakers to the mug in his hand. Even now she still called him Dr. West, cradling his title as though it were the most wonderous thing in the world. The text on the ceramic mug winked like oil in the light of the overhead fluorescents. It caused something to flicker in Herbert's chest.

Something like fondness.

But not that.

Piper was his apprentice and nothing more. It didn't matter that she looked at him like he'd hung the moon. He couldn't afford to slip into sentimentality with the work they were doing.

He cleared his throat gruffly and placed the mug on the countertop with a clatter. "Yes, well." He searched for something else to say but could find nothing.

Piper blinked up at him. "Do you like it?" she asked, her small voice full of hope.

"It's very colourful," was all Herbert deigned to say, then he was turning from the kitchen and starting towards the basement. "Come on, we've been standing around for too long. There's work to do."

"Okay!" Piper chirped, skipping after him.

Later, Dan would find the mug sitting between the two half-full glasses on the island counter and he'd sigh.

[samanthamarkle92]

Chapter 5 of Soap’s Girl is here! Here, the fluff begins! Shout outs: @nsharks @shadow0-1 @deadbranch @salbei-141 @thiswomanhasissues @loonyundead @codfanzine @mocha @cravingcoldoreocake123 @ilovehotchocolate @sofasoap @loneghostwolf @mistyresolve @islenthatur @bittersw33t-lotus s @m0chac0ffee @fictional-men-have-my-heart @ghostslillady @ghosts-bandwagon @soapxmactavish @mactavishwritings @sleepyconfusedpotato @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @halcyone-of-the-sea @rileyslibrary @ghostkinnie @mctvsh @macravishedbymactavish @blissful--moon @mistydeyes @cowyolks @maxinequigleyart @ave661 @clownfishenthusiast @lunarw0rks @summermoonshine @lundenloves @glossythor @cheezbites @xintothewoodswegox @sighmurderbot @wolfieisacat @1-ker0sene-1 @oniiloma @castleninja

Feel free to reblog and tag so others can read it!

The next morning, Katie made her way to the kitchen, where she found Johnny waiting with breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled her senses, making her stomach rumble in hunger.

“Wow, you're quite the early riser!” she teased him, taking a seat across from him.

Johnny laughed.

“You have to be in my line of work. What can I say? I'm a guy of habits.”

Katie shook her head in amusement.

“How's your head feeling?” Johnny questioned as he handed Katie a steaming mug of hot tea. She sipped it gratefully, getting a box of cereal out and sitting down to eat.

“Much better, thanks,” she replied. “I didn't sleep well last night. Nightmares again. That's never happened before…”

“What are the nightmares about?”

“Being kidnapped, mostly,” she admitted. “I thought it would never happen. It almost did. But then I saw you…and I felt safe.”

Johnny grinned warmly. “And you know I'm glad you did.”

Katie smiled shyly and glanced at the ground, flushing crimson. “Thanks. I can't wait to go back to work! Being cooped up like this is driving me nuts!”

“I know what you mean,” Johnny agreed. “But it will pass. Soon enough, I expect the police will make an arrest and things will get back to normal.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” Katie answered and picked up the dishes.

“Until then, you can buy groceries and cook dinner, you know.”

“Oh, um, I don't know. Thanks anyways.” Katie replied quickly. Johnny simply rolled his eyes and smiled slightly. They chatted quietly as Katie washed the dishes. After cleaning up, she headed into the living room.

As she turned on the TV, she happened to see a news report about the bank robbery. She then heard an update on the case, talking about the new leads. As her attention was directed toward the tv, she heard Johnny enter the room and sit down next to her. He rested his hand on her shoulder, making her jump in surprise.

“Sorry! Didn't meant to scare you like that!” he apologized. Katie nodded, embarrassed.

“Don't worry, I guess I should watch the news. It's been a while since I watched one of those.”

Johnny gave a smile and settled himself into the recliner. “Good thing I brought a bunch of DVDs over yesterday; I thought we could watch movies,”

“I was wondering if we could pick out some horror flicks,” Johnny added, smirking.

Katie groaned, shaking her head as she smiled slightly. “Oh my gosh, we really are kids.”

“No, we're not! And besides you've seen some scary shit!”

“Probably nothing compared to what you've been through.”

“So let's go through them together,” Johnny replied grinning.

“Okay….” Katie said with a grin. She pulled up an old favorite; The Mummy. She scrolled past to the title page and clicked Play.

As the opening credits started rolling, she felt Johnny wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her close. With his arm wrapped tightly around her back, she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, resting her head comfortably. Katie didn't really pay any attention to the movie, instead choosing to focus on Johnny’s arms holding her. His warmth was slowly enveloping her, calming her nerves. She closed her eyes for a brief moment.

When she opened them again, the credits had ended, and she looked curiously at the man in front of her.

“Get to bed, lass.” Johnny instructed.

Katie giggled lightly and blushed. “Alright……you too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeated, leaning forward and squeezing her hand. He had only been looking after Katie for a few days, but he felt fiercely protective of her. He wouldn't let her go anywhere until she was completely recovered from her abduction ordeal.

******

Katie tossed and turned in the bed, her breathing erratic, a scream building in her lungs. This nightmare was happening again. It was getting harder and harder for her to escape from the nightmare, and the more she fought, the stronger and more vivid it became. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her awake.

“Katie! It's just a nightmare...wake up, lass.” Soap shook her, trying to wake her up.

“No! No, no, no! Please stop.” She begged frantically. Tears were streaming down her face, and her chest was heaving up and down; her breaths becoming shallow.

"Shhh..." Soap cooed to her. “Breathe...” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. He rocked her side to side.

“Please...go...away.” She cried, trying to push him away.

“Lassie, please. Let me hold you. I won’t hurt you; I promise. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Katie wiped her eyes, her vision adjusting to the dark room. She saw that he was shirtless. Her heart stopped beating momentarily, but he quickly realized her gaze and looked down to her. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“Sorry,” she apologized immediately.

“Don’t apologise, Katie. I’m right here. Just take your time.”

Katie laid back down on the bed, trying to let her fear-driven mind calm itself. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, feeling herself trembling uncontrollably. The nightmares began after that day she was taken. But this time, the man wasn’t going anywhere. There was no escaping him. As she lay in bed, trying to control her breathing, she felt Soap’s strong hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t tight or firm, but reassuring all the same. She felt herself calming down and her breathing steady again. He curled up beside her,

wrapping his arm around her and pulled her close, allowing her to snuggle in closer. She rested her head against his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat. Her own racing heart slowly calmed down, her breathing returning to normal. She relaxed in Soaps arms; letting herself fall asleep.

“What are you doing?” Katie asked sleepily.

“Holding you, love. Sleep now. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was soft and gentle. She listened closely for a moment before nodding.

Soap moved over, pulling the covers around them both. He brushed some hair out of her face.

“Johnny?” Katie asked, half asleep.

“Yes love?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Anything for you, Katie. Anytime.”