#like i know i made the jacket but its still nice to have a physical token of tour which was like made out of the love i had for it

[quarterprioritymidnight]

[dwaekkicidal]

Hii 🫶🏻

First off: I have to tell you your Han series has me in a chokehold I CAN NOT get over it! 😍😍 it just hit all the right spots 😍😫

I don’t know if your request are open but if they are could I request with Han and female reader where Han is jealous/possessive of his girlfriend? Maybe because she is still in the same friend group with her ex or if you prefer give it any other motivation. It can be either swf or nswf, do as you prefer really (but if it is nswf could you make the reader to have a big breast and Han with a 🍒fixation maybe?)

Anyway I love you blog! Have a nice day! 🫶🏻😘

me when i get to self insert myself into a fic cause i have big boobies😼 ALSO TY ASDHJKASDJK i kept feeling really insecure about that series but its getting so much love :''))) im happy you are enjoying it as well as my blog <3

Cherries

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.8k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, reader has big boobs but no other physical features described, ex has they/them pronouns, kinda out of character ji?, exhibitionism, nipple play, brief mentions of p in v

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han’s eyes were narrowed, so sharp that you could cut diamonds with it. He watched intently as you conversed casually with your friend group. It’s not something he thought he would ever see himself getting genuinely mad over, but the familiar face in the crowd made his blood boil.  Had this exact situation taken place more than a year ago, Jisung would have been an anxious mess. Probably would be fiddling with his jacket’s sleeves and restlessly bouncing his leg while his mind went to the worst places possible. But now, after dating you for over 2 years, he was more confident in himself.

Don’t be fooled! He still gets jealous easily. Very easily… but it doesn’t make him as angsty as it used to. Nowadays all he feels is anger. The only thoughts that fill his mind are ones along the lines of “How dare that person talk to my girlfriend like that. Who do they think they are?” while strangers blatantly flirted with you, and he would make fun of them with words like “Did you see their face when you rejected them?? Fucking loser lol” when you would make a face and deny them before running back into his arms.

But those were with strangers. Not with your stupid ex. The same ex who made you hesitant going into this relationship with Han in the first place. And the same ex that managed to snake their way back into your friend group. While his thoughts were about the same, Han wasn’t very keen on taking his eyes off of them. The trust was still there with you, but he knew better than to trust your ex. The slimy, sugar-coated lies they told the group wouldn’t work on him. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder cut him from his thoughts. He was in full fight mode and completely missed the way you walked up to where he was on the couch. The game room the group had rented out for a few hours was filled with their booming voices and a random playlist off of somebody's Spotify. Some people were playing pool while the others stood nearby to watch and instigate mini brawls here and there. He was the only one who idly sat on the couch, drink in hand.

You knew he was in guard dog mode because of your ex’s presence so you made sure to break your attention from the group regularly to check up on him. Only this time he accidentally ignored you, so you made your way towards him. “You okay, Ji?” You smiled sideways and tilted your head, stealing a sip from his soda and settling yourself between his legs. Immediately all the anger drained from his body and he smiled up at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and he sat up, pulling you closer as he nodded.

“Yeah... Sorry haha.” You smiled sweetly and placed his cup on the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his neck once the cup was safely set down. “It’s okay, I know the situation is a little uncomfortable.” You whisper and tighten your hold around him, squeezing him lovingly and giggling to yourself when he rests his cheek against your chest. He grins like an idiot at his personal pillow and shoves his face harder until you eventually get red in the face and push him back. “Hey now… We’re still in public.”

“That can change. Let’s go home right now and I’ll show you a good time?” He smirks and pulls you closer. His chin rests against the top of your chest and he looks up at you with puppy eyes and his signature pout. “C’monn… I’ve been good all day.” His hands drop down to your hips, digging his fingers into them as his voice drops an octave, “‘Promise to show you a good time. You know Hannie always takes care of his baby-”

Your name gets called and the both of you jump. You chuckle and turn in his grasp, now standing sideways to respond to the person. He let his eyes return to your group, simply curious about who you interrupted his begging but was made even angrier by the expression that painted your ex’s face. They were frowning deeply behind their drink and glaring at the two of you, obviously wired up about his hands that were wrapped around you. Han stared back with the same fire, knowing all too well what the other person wanted. But then he smiled to himself.

As you casually chatted with your friend, Han let his hand fall down to your waist. He did it at an angle that only showed it off to your ex, making them watch as his hand slipped under your shirt. The fabric bulged out as he grabbed a handful of your tits, kneading the flesh there as they held eye contact. Eye contact that was held as he leaned in, hiding his face from everybody else as he wrapped his lips around your clothed nipple. He made a show of even sticking his tongue out and licking your nipple over your shirt while his other hand continued to squeeze the other boob from, what seemed like, the inside of your bra

Han’s ego inflated to the size of the sun as he watched your ex’s jaw drop. Their eyes went up to your face and, besides the blush that covered it, there wasn’t a single reaction. You were so used to it that the obscene action didn’t even make you flinch. Which only pissed your ex off more. They huffed and shook their head, walking to the door and mumbling something along the lines of ‘Fuck this.’ While everybody’s attention turned to the first person to leave the function, you turned to your boyfriend and shook your head at him. “Really? All that about behaving too.”

“Not my fault their edgy ass didn't like it. I licked it so it’s mine.” You laughed and parted from your boyfriend, returning back to the pool table. After that, it didn’t take long for everybody to separate. The people who didn’t have the balls to be the first to leave shortly made their way out after your ex did. Your boyfriend was one of them as well and quickly made it obvious to you that he genuinely wanted to leave soon, so you both bid your farewells and made your way outside.

The second your food hit the concrete, Jisung dragged you to the nearest empty alleyway. One that, if the sun wasn’t already set, would have been very easy to look down and see the two of you. Alas, your boyfriend did not have a single care about that. If anything, the thought of somebody seeing you only egged him on.

Han shoves you into the brick wall, slamming his lips against yours and running his hands all over your body. They started at your thighs, where he squeezed the flesh of your thighs before sliding up to your hips and doing the same. Then his hands rested at your hips for a moment. He was too distracted pushing his tongue past your lips to continue on with his expedition. Once you both found a comfortable rhythm and your hands ran up his arms, he started moving again.

This time he slowly ghosted his hands up your stomach and stopped at your chest where he squeezed your boobs tightly. Then he pulls away from your lips, smirking at you and pecking your cheek before dipping his head down. You feel his lips against your neck and you moan quietly before rolling your neck to the side, giving him more space to work with. He doesn't linger there for long though. As much as your boyfriend loves marking you up, he only leaves a single one to your neck before he dips even lower.

He leaves a trail of kisses on his way to your boobs and, before you have the chance to react or push him away, his hands tug your shirt up to your neck. “Ji- Wait until we get home, baby. We shouldn’t do this he-” He cuts you off by nibbling your right nipple through your bra. His other hand slides under the bottom hem of your bra, grabbing a handful of your boob and rubbing that nipple between his middle knuckles. You moan loudly and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging it in hopes that he would pull away but also stop and just take you to do this at home.

He moans against your clothed nipple and licks it seductively through the fabric, looking up at you with those brown boba eyes. Despite his lack of words, you already know what those pretty eyes want. You bite your lip and nervously look towards the entrance of the alley, watching as cars dart back and forth. But no people. “F-Fuck. Fine. But make it quick!” He smiles widely against you and nods.

His head pulls away from you for a moment, only to allow him to reach around and undo your bra. He doesn’t even bother taking it off of you, he just pushes it up with your shirt and dives back in. “Mine.” A loud moan leaves your lips as he suddenly bites the side of your tit, then he apologetically licks over his teeth marks. “Yours.” He smiles and grabs both of your boobs, fondling them as he alternates his attention to each nipple.

“God. I fucking love your tits, Jagi. And they’re all mine, right?” You nod and throw your head back as you moan, gripping his strands even tighter than before. He moans and bucks his hips into the air. “Answer me.” One of his hands moves down to your thighs and slides up under your skirt. It dips deeper, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties before wrapping around behind you and grabbing a handful of your ass cheek. “Jagiya… Say. It. A-gain.” He lands a sloppy slap to your ass with each word, smiling into your boob when your legs clench together.

“‘M yours, Ji! Please, babyy~” He wastes no time after that, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out. The hand that was on your ass pumps his dick a few times as his other pushes your leg up, holding it up and giving him space to fuck into you. His mouth finally releases your nipple in favor of poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he pushes in. Both of you moan at the feeling and lock eyes for a moment before he leans in and pushes his lips against yours.

He pulls away and leans down again, wrapping his lips around your neglected nipple. Then he tests the water with slow thrusts. Ones that speed up rather fast once he realizes how deep he can go in this position. The grip he has on your hips is bruising as he starts to slam his hips into yours.

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[from-izzy]

double a decade | tbz kim sunwoo

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

​PAIRING » tbz kim sunwoo x gn!reader (proofread twice! lmk if i missed anything!)​ TROPE/AU » ​childhood friends to lovers, non-idol au!, holiday season au! (starts a little bit from christmas up to new years!) GENRE​ » it's so fluffy like wow...i'm not going to write something so fluff for sunwoo for a while after this, a tinge of angst, SUNWOO AND READER ARE BOTH IDIOTS, sunwoo thought his love was one-sided, very shy kim sunwoo, sunwoo being very cute and patient to the reader, reader is sick and sunwoo takes care of them uwu, they platonically share the same bed, big spoon sunwoo who is physically bigger than you and holds you to sleep, MUTUAL PINING REEEEEE, a ton of hugs from kim sunwoo because he's so...ugh, reader blushing cause of kim sunwoo, sunwoo giving his jackets that're oversized for you to use (ahhhh) WORD COUNT » 5760 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader is sick with a fever (if you're actually sick, please isolate yourself!), kim sunwoo being a shy idiot, one swear word (but cuts through halfway)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my last story for 2023! looking forward to the new year! happy 2024 everyone!

thank you for reading and screaming with me @winterchimez, @heemingyu and @mosviqu !! you three were so chaotic 😭 like ally really whipped out my government name, i couldn't tell whether sana was mad at me or sunwoo, and bar was...yeah...uhm...yeah!

(i suffered so much with the banner, i need to stop looking at it now)

Even you found this situation absurd.

How could something so beautiful cause you to have tissues and wet towels lying around your heating body? It’s bittersweet to know that the things that made you enwrap in the layer of heated and weighted blankets are the same ones every year that fall nicely from the hues of orange and red sky. Maybe it’s the headache or the jealousy as you hear the excited shrills of the children outside the window having fun and throwing the cold ball of death to each other’s faces. It’s probably also the fact that you’re at the time of your month, the cramps around the underside of your stomach in addition to the scratchy itch on your throat that makes swallowing hard. 

In the end, this year’s Christmas has been wasted and you could only cry under the sheets alone, convincing your parents not to enter as you knew they had to return to work as soon as the holidays ended. You truly regretted your past naive and idiotic self for making a snow angel without proper winter battle clothes. The effect took a massive toll on your body, especially with the amount of hours you have been working and the stress of it all. The way you spent Christmas was lonely as you looked down to the ground floor where your family gathered, a warm blanket slouched on your messy, unwashed hair. The distance between your pout and their smiles wasn’t too far but because of your dying voice and their charged voice, even your mother could barely hear your Christmas greetings.

But, there was someone in your life who still barged into your highly contaminated room with his raccoon loverboy beanie and matching handmade raccoon scarf that you gifted for him this Christmas. Even with your refutes and arguments, he just shrugs, refusing to let you spend the holiday season time alone. 

Every year has always been the same at this time of the year. From when the clock strikes midnight when the jingle bells ring from the city hall up to your room, up until around noon, you would spend it with your family. From noon, when you and your best friend would be amazed at how the snowman still kept its shape up until around dinner time, you would be all over the neighbourhood with him. Then cues the opening of gifts underneath the green tree with ornaments from your grandparents’ age, the smile plasters on everyone’s faces as choruses of ‘thank you’s would be said. Three hours before Christmas day passes, you would retreat to your room, only to have a visitor open your door, the pile of snow between the strands of his hair making the wood of your floor a tripping hazard.

Every year has always been the same for you both and Kim Sunwoo is determined to make sure that it would still be that way. The boy has always made every single Christmas memorable from the day you both were in diapers to now. He made sure that Christmas this year isn’t wasted and he proves that solidly.

Now, another day of fighting begins as you pray for your fever to die down in time for the approaching new year. Contrary to your wishes, your whole body feels like it’s been shut down, feeling too effortful to even raise a finger despite it lying on your bed for the last twenty hours.

“Sunwoo…” The tears well up in your eyes, wishing that you could at least pick up the phone to hear his stories about the day. 

“I got you!” 

The door clicks open to reveal his toothy, mischievous smile. In one hand, a filled fabric bag is held as the other fist punches the sky eagerly. If you could, you would’ve chucked all the layers of fabric to the ground for all you care, clinging onto the boy like a koala. He understands the thoughts roaming in your head as soon as he sees the way the ceiling light highlights the sweat on your forehead and the moisture around the bottom of your eyes. 

The once-upturned corners of his mouth dipped and so did his shoulders. With his free hand, the door closed quietly. He slowly approaches you, kneeling on the floor beside your bed. Sunwoo takes his mittens off, tilting his head and his furrowed eyebrows match his solemn smile. 

“The new year is literally in three days and I’m still here all wrapped up like a mummy.” He unfolded one of the new towels on your bedside table, dapping the sweat away from your flushed face. “I hate this…”

Sunwoo couldn’t hide his true feelings either, missing having you healthy by his side for more than a whole week now. The night walks were now leaning more toward miserable than lonely. He misses the way you would wrap your nearest arm with his, the other hand loosely anchoring on as well as you both comment on whatever comes into your mind. It’s during those times that you would be so preoccupied with your words that the world around him becomes silent, looking down at the slope of your nose and the shape of your moving lips dearly. 

If you look up towards him, you can see the way that Sunwoo’s eyes relax and the corners of his lips lift just slightly, looking at you with utmost adore and affection. His cheeks would be red, not because of the chilly wind, but because his heart is telling him to just hold you close, confess and kiss you deeply into the night. 

It’s no exaggeration to say that the fluttering feeling in his heart, gave his body more warmth than the mittens, beanie, scarf and winter outfit.

“It’ll pass soon, don’t worry,” Sunwoo reassures you, straightening his legs and heading to your bathroom. There, he shrieks and the laugh from the joined room, where you lay in bed with a new cold wet towel on your burning forehead tells him that you did it on purpose. “I thought that was real!” His head peaks out slightly from the bathroom door with the toy cockroach in his hand, throwing it on the duvet where it conveniently plops upside down.

“I need some laughs, okay?” It only earned an eye roll from Sunwoo, who closed the bathroom door.

Your eyes widen at the familiar actions, the sprinkling of water confirming your thoughts.

“Sunwoo!” You scold him. “You can’t stay over! I’m literally sick!”

“I’ll be fine!”

These are the only words that he says, ignoring the rest of your complaints and nagging; he knows though, that it’s just because you care for his health and wellbeing.

Your lips could only form a big mountain when Sunwoo finally does exit your now sauna-like bathroom. He had his favourite raccoon onesie on, his used clothes in one hand and was supported with his chest to avoid it from toppling over his hold. A toothbrush is leisurely in his mouth, the frothing around the inside of his lips tells you that he has no second thoughts about staying over. 

“You can’t, Woo.” An exasperated sigh comes out as soon as he slips into the room. “Why don’t you ever listen to what I say?”

The toothbrush stops its rustling sound against his healthy, white teeth and you can tell from the way his hands land on the side of his waist that he has a complaint back about you.

“As if you’ll ever listen to me.” And the rustling continues with a tune of a song.

“Touche.”

There is one thing that changed from your usual sleepovers but again, you’re not complaining as it is the best choice. Sunwoo takes out the spare roll-up mattress after excitedly knocking on your parent’s room for help. You could hear how your parents are beyond surprised by the visit but you could only smile when you hear the way they scold Sunwoo for wanting to stay beside you with your condition.

For some odd reason, he was still able to walk back into your room, showing off the white fabric on his shoulder that he held, shoulder way too high for your liking as his pride replaces the gloomy atmosphere in the room.

“Make some sort of distance between you and my bed please.”

Your tone is no longer playful, almost tired and most definitely worried. Sunwoo nods, his lips pulling into a line. At this moment, when Sunwoo sets up his bed for the night away from you, you don’t realise the clench in your heart, your hand swishing over the space beside you where he would usually cuddle with you to sleep.

“This alright?” Pulling off his sparkly doe eyes, shooting you a smile that you couldn’t possibly refute. “Alright! Goodnight!” He cheers when you nod defeatedly.

With a flick of the switch, the only thing that allows you to see your covered feet is the moonlight from outside. Sunwoo is in a better position because the lower level means that your bed blocks the shine enough for him to slumber back to sleep.

For some reason, you couldn’t. Your body is still, your eyelids shut and your calm breathing would’ve fooled anyone that you were actually in dreamland. In reality, all you could hear was Sunwoo’s more soothing snores, the sudden feeling that nothing was covering you and the uncomfortable feeling of staying awake.

Your eyelids shoot open once more, staring at the lines and scratches that managed to make it there. Maybe it was a chaotic cat? Or a really strong spiky fly? Or maybe, a ghost? Continuing a questionable amount of ideas. You didn’t even realise when your body turned to the side where Sunwoo was. Without thinking much, your arm reaches for the expensive headpiece straight to the once-slumbering boy.

Disturbed between reality and dreams, his body immediately straightens up, turning his head at you. “Hey!”

“Sorry.” You did feel guilty, not knowing that your impulse actions would jolt him so much; but your laugh tells him that once again, you did plan it with some sort of naughty reason.

Like the antagonist of a scary movie, Sunwoo’s head dips down slightly, his bangs covering his eyes and his cheek rising with menacing thoughts in his head. Suddenly, he jumps over to the mattress, wiggling his fingers all over your body.

“S-Stop! Sunwoo!” He didn’t bother doing so, his heart delighted at the sound of your laughter after so long. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you pathetic raccoon!”

“Oh, you’re really asking for it!”

It’s a miracle that none of your parents didn’t woke up after almost five minutes of different volumes of laughter. After a week or so of copping up in your room, unable to properly see your best friend, he makes his mark on the winter holiday, knowing that every time you fall sick with a fever, you’ll recall this fun memory.

“Can’t sleep?” 

He retreats to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling. Yet, he has his full focus on the way your smile gradually falls into a frown. His hands move under the blanket, finding yours. As soon as he feels you, his fingers intertwine with yours. Automatically, your thumb caresses Sunwoo’s, calming enough for him to sleep. Eyelids heavy but not completely down yet, your brown orbs observe the way Sunwoo kneels beside you.

“Sunwoo…”

“Hm?” 

“Thank you for staying.” 

His eyes widen slightly but he then lets out a small chuckle. “Just doing your lovely parents a favour.” 

“No.” He gulps at your seriousness, watching the way that even though your back is facing the natural light source, the growing waters underneath your eyelids make his other hand reach out for you, the movement shaking your tears down. “I meant in life. Thank you for staying with me another year.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, the darkness quietly enveloping you. Sunwoo just lets out a soft sigh, your words making his heart beat too rapidly for him to sleep tonight. 

“I love you.” 

There…

He rehearsed the confession in the mirror many times, different scenarios each time, a different object in his hand every time as he imagined the perfect gift that he would give if he was ever given a chance to pour his feelings into you. A part of him wishes you heard it, hoping that you didn’t keep this friendship going. 

The mattress that he worked hard to retrieve from your parents is left untouched for the rest of the night. Forget about his well-being for a second, prioritising the love in his heart. Forget about being sick if it meant being able to hold you in his arms just like all those times. Forget about your scoldings that he would only stick his tongue out nonchalantly to. Sunwoo climbs on the opposite side, his usual spot in your bed. He carefully slips his body inside, the air a thousand times warmer, almost making him wince at the sudden temperature rise that he didn’t expect.

For one last time in the night, he wipes your forehead clean, pressing a lingering kiss on the area. Your body recognises the dip of the bed, turning to the other side and hiding your eyes from the glare of the night into Sunwoo’s beating chest. Perplexed but still somewhat composed, he lets you get comfortable first, both of your hands reaching up to the fabric of his collar, tugging it slightly as a satisfied smile makes its way onto your relaxed face. 

“I love you.” 

He says once more.

“I love you so much, bubs.” 

A little bit louder.

“I love you so much but,” He rests his head on the pillow, pulling you further into his embrace with his hand curling over the shape of your head. “I don’t think I can stay beside you next year.”

Unrequited love his whole life. 

The trade-off between friendship and love is too much for him to fully digest. 

But as the years pass, Sunwoo knows that there is nothing much he can do but drown in his uncertainties. At the same time, he’s no longer sure how much longer he could fake another smile towards you whenever you were taken out for dates. He’s no longer sure how to keep his heartbeat at bay whenever you accidentally whip your hair across his face whenever he scared you, and the way your first instinct is to squish his cheeks, frown and check up for any hurt on his beautiful face. He’s no longer sure if he could hide the urge to pull you into his chest whenever your fingers would lace together even during the hot summer days.

So Sunwoo made it clear to himself that tonight would be the last time he would bask in your presence. Another unsure kiss is given to your forehead and against the screamings inside his head, he follows his heart to press one on each of your closed lids, whispering loving words that he desperately wishes you would hear. 

“I’m thankful for you too.”

True to his words, Sunwoo is gone by the early morning, the white blob on the floor is gone and so are the used towels that you have used throughout the previous day. Judging from the coolness of the sheets beside you, he must’ve left some time ago and it left a bitter feeling in your whole being when he left no note that would usually snap the drowsiness in you to an immediate deadpan reaction, or contrary a dog video that would make up want to curl up and stay in bed for longer.

Three distinct knocks on the door tell you that your mum has breakfast ready but you can’t respond as enthusiastically as you usually would. 

“You’re looking better today, actually.” The plastic tray rests on the corner of your table. The now-occupied space reminds you of last night when Sunwoo used the same space for his worn-out backpack. Satisfied with the way your forehead is no longer burning and almost back to normal temperature, the woman nods and lets out a sigh of relief. “Must be the Sunwoo effect.”

It did make you forget your confusion for a second, the corners of your slumped lips pulling to a straight line. When you were once again left all alone in the room, the loneliness was unlike ever before. The charging cable is ripped away from your device, opening the messaging app to text Sunwoo a very formal, very awkward morning greeting. Your eyes bore into the bottom left of the screen, seeing if the familiar typing icon would pop out but after around four minutes of empty wishes, the way you shoved your phone under the pillow shows how crestfallen you are with his isolating behaviour. It continued for the rest of the day, your phone never buzzing because of him even though his social media activity shows him posting a new memory to share over the internet.

New Year is around a few hours and to you, it looks like Sunwoo has no plans to change his indifference towards you. Even when Eric says he would make sure that Sunwoo sends a message to you, the only thing that changed in your messaging status with him is the ‘delivered’ to ‘seen’ sign.

“The audacity of this little piece of sh—” 

Your fingers tapped rapidly first, and the floating tiles of your keyboard pour your conflicted emotions with a dash of empty threats to him. It’s infuriating that the only thing he did was still, left you on ‘seen’ but this time, in real-time. 

“Okay, fine!”

Why are you so defeated? Frustrated? Annoyed? Irritated? Worried? Sour? Confused? Are you really going to spend the rest of the year without him? Start the new one without him? Is he really breaking the streak of watching the fireworks together and being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s with a bunch of jumping and squealing? 

Is he mad because you’re the reason why you can’t watch the flowers in the sky with him this year? But Sunwoo knows that you’ve been sick! But if he is, is he so mad to the point that he's going to break the streak of being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s next year because of it? But between you both, you’ve always beaten him by a split second!

“Fine! Be that way then!” If the framed picture of you both had noise sensitivity, you’re sure that it would’ve cowered away and fallen straight to the bin next to it. “Ignore me then! Go have fun with the rest of your friends! Why’d you come here and act like you cared when you were just going to avoid me like this?!”

As if the whole universe isn’t seemingly against you already, the bunny doll that Sunwoo won for you smiled sweetly from the corner of your room. The rubber material of your slippers makes high-pitched slaps and your arms snatch the poor plush by its neck, shaking it back and forth as you start to let out all the cursing in all the languages that you know to the boy in your head.

“You got it!”

You couldn’t hide the excitement on your face as soon as the claw hovers in the hole of the machine, a few seconds away from delivering the prize to your hands. Sunwoo rejoices and is proud after winning against the rigged game with only the first try. 

You try to wait patiently for Sunwoo to give it to you, but the way that your upper body bounces, and the way your slightly wavy hair goes along with the motions of your body, only makes it harder for Sunwoo to properly hand you over the gift. You weren’t doing anything special but he was so in love with you that he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath at the way your eyes sparkle to him—it didn’t help his case that you were cutely drowning in his jacket. 

“D-Do you love it that much?”

Would it be weird if he snapped a photo of you right now? When your cheeks are smushed against the bunny’s fluffy ones? Would it be weird if he wanted to set it as his wallpaper and just stare at it all day long?

“It’s so cute!” 

You indirectly answered, putting your full attention and affection to the animal in your hands. The way you bopped your nose with its own only fuels his adoration for you and because you’re so immersed in your birthday gift, Sunwoo did manage to get the picture that he desires.

Kim Sunwoo also had it as his lock screen, hiding it within a collage of other memories—it’s the reason why he’s been so protective over his phone for the last few months.

Having had enough of giving the inanimate animal a headache, you threw it onto the floor with a huff, blowing the loose strand of hair away from your vision. All of a sudden, the tears finally well up in your eyes and you let out silent croaked sobs. The hunched-over plushie is the catalyst for your head to replay the memories in your head. With your back against your bed, knees folded to your chest and the bunny sitting on top, the outside world blurs out of existence for a while.

Everything is just Kim Sunwoo.

From the way he smiles.

To the way he drools in his sleep.

From the way he would literally hide you from the outside world, arms enveloping and muffling your cries.

To the way he welcomes the series of punches on his chest because life is too much for you sometimes.

From the way he has your mum on speed dial in case he can’t reach you.

To the way that he would hop into the car to pick you up from your solo late-night, early-morning beach walks still in his pyjamas.

From the way he knew how to comfort you depending on the situation.

To the way he wouldn’t mind submitting his assignment late if it meant that you’ll be able to sleep peacefully.

Your face flares up, recalling the light pressure of his lips on your eyelids the other night and with it, the meaning behind your tight hold on the bunny becomes something entirely different. That’s all it takes for you to rush out the front door, your mum following your rushed actions with her eyes.

“Well,” she shrugs, eyes back to the television of her favourite Christmas movie, “that happened.”

So maybe you should’ve changed to snowing boots or something more appropriate than your slippers but in your body’s adrenaline to keep your body intact for another five minutes when you would reach Sunwoo’s house.

“You’re so—ugh!” 

The crystals falling from the sky are too uncomfortable and you know that you will be bedridden for longer after this but that’s not going to be your fault. Someone else will take the blame for this and you’ll make it clear for him.

It’s only when you reach the front door, hands on your bent knees, throat dry, nose red, cheeks most probably iced due to your tears and the weather that the words all evaporate from your head. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and with the curtain from the living room open just enough for you to see Sunwoo snuggling in the couch with his cup of hot chocolate, the feelings that you have been hiding from him amplified greatly.

You’re so mad at him but you still think he looks cute with the blanket over his head, covering his shoulders and eyes focused so much to the point the colours of the graphics were being reflected on his eyes. Changing the direction from kicking down the front door, you decided to instead gather a lump of ice into your palm, striking it against the window where his face was. 

His body jolts back but it didn’t take long for his mind to register the white remnants crumbling on the glass, window frame and sill. It takes Sunwoo less than a second to take in your shivering figure on the other side of the window and he knows he’s going to get an earful from his mum when she sees the sweet and sticky drink on her carpet.

The coat hanger rattles and almost breaks an arm with how violently Sunwoo takes two of his warmest jackets, swiftly getting ready to meet the cold and starting blizzard outside. He automatically winced when nature slammed the door open, almost stubbing his toe—but maybe that’s his karma for leaving you on read for more than a whole day without a proper explanation.

Sunwoo took his focus away from the throbbing pain, skipping down the stairs, using the spiky handrail for support as he pushed his body up whenever he went down a step lower, relaxing when his feet landed on the ground safely. It’s only been a few minutes since he stepped out of his blanket but now everything is throbbing—his heart as well for a different reason.

Seeing you still facing the window, your hair flying all over the place, your chin basically on your chest, Sunwoo realises that he hurt you badly. Maybe he should’ve just been honest. If so, then at the very least, you wouldn’t chase him out like this when it looks like you just started to feel better. 

“Hey…” his feet make cautious little shuffles, scrunching the remaining mixes of nature and ice, kind of scared for his life that you would start to (rightfully) punch him. Thankfully, he got close enough to drape his jacket onto your shoulder, zipping up the front without asking you to put your arms. If it wasn’t for the fact that he ignored you, he would be teasing and asking you about what you are mulling over. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

Sunwoo sighs at your stubbornness when you shoved his arm away, feet planted on the ground.

“Go away.” 

His heart clenches at the way you probably meant that. It included a hint of hurt, broken the unanswered questions that were swarming your head.

“I’m sorry,” Sunwoo said so softly that you could’ve missed it if it wasn’t the way you were already actively focusing on him. “So please, let’s just get you inside. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

His palm goes over where his heart is and the other hand gives you a reassuring press. Sunwoo knew by the way you refused to look at him despite him bending over to meet your eyes, that this was going to be tough for you to listen to him.

But Kim Sunwoo is patient.

He’s always been patient and understanding when it comes to you. When his hands reach over to envelop yours, you don’t push away how he wraps his own between yours. Your heartbeat picks up its pace when he leads your joined hands into the pocket of his jacket, his thumb gliding over your skin. The act also sends your body closer to his, finally closing the gap between your bodies, sharing body warmth corresponding to the red hues on your cheeks.

Your lips now hover over his outwear and your nose takes his scent in, enjoying breathing in the familiarity after almost two days of no contact. Sunwoo bites his lips, nervous about having you in front of him and the way you tighten your hold on his hands tells him that you have a lot to say. 

“You don’t want to spend the first week of the new year bedridden, bubs.” Wordlessly and timidly, Sunwoo just scans over your facial features, his eyes roaming about while your eyes are stuck on his zipper which is halfway done.

“Don’t call me that…” Because it clicks open the surge of feelings that you have been trying to hide from him for the longest time. “Don’t…”

You were still half awake when he said his words.

Unknowingly to Sunwoo, you heard every single word that you have always wanted to say to him. That night, when his hand wrapped securely around your waist, you had the best sleep in your life, taking a mental note to talk about the topic later on.

Only to realise that you are both idiots with your feelings.

“I’m sor—”

“Stop apologising!” 

And it sends Sunwoo into a puddle of shock and confusion when your eyes send out a waterfall. He separates his hands from yours and they fly quickly to hold your cheeks. Stutters of more apologies string out and his thumbs weren’t fast enough to keep your face dry. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry too!”

“Hey, what are you sorry about? I’m the one who left you on read!”

“I’m sorry that I’ve never told you how much I appreciate you,” you hiccup before continuing, seeing a glimpse of Sunwoo’s gaping mouth, “I’m sorry that you’ve always been the one taking care of me and not the other way around,” and you see the way he shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m sorry that I ever make you think that I don’t care about you!” 

“Hey, no. Don’t say that, I know you care abo—”

“I love you, Kim Sunwoo!” 

To him, even though Christmas has passed, he’s convinced that it’s a miracle for him. The night when he left to stay in your house, he innocently wished upon the shooting star, closing his eyes and hoping for your health and happiness—but he couldn’t help but also wish that you would love him back even though that’s out of his control.

But what can he do when he’s only loved one person and one person throughout his whole life?

“I’m sorry if I ever made you think that I like someone else because I can tell you now that all those dates I went to only made me sure that I’m so in love with you and you make me feel like I can just be myself when I’m around you and I also feel jittery when I’m around you and—”

This is not the type of confession that he has rehearsed for.

He guides your face into his chest, still sobbing and crying. As always, your hands weakly hit him, your lips still voicing out muffled confessions to him. Sunwoo’s arms wrap around your shoulders, the other on top of it. His head dips, his lips breathing out air near your ear, resting his forehead on his arm for stability. He wants to say something, anything to make sure that his avoidance doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you back but all he wants to do is to just hold you closer to make it clear that no one could take you out on another date.

Only he can take you out on dates now.

You sniffle, catching your breath after letting your feelings out. The hold around you makes you melt, smiling before turning to where Sunwoo is. At your longing stare, his head shoots back up in surprise, tripping over his own words at how you look at him with beady, watery eyes in adoration. Shy Sunwoo is going to be a sight that you’ll get used to quickly, noting how adorable he is with how his eyes refuse to meet yours and his lips moving without any sound actually coming through.

“I love you.” 

You repeated quieter just for him so that he was the only one who could hear the words.

“I love you so much.”

You stood on your toes, planting a kiss on his chin.

“I love you so much but,” Sunwoo gulps with how you squinted your eyes, “if you leave my side next year, I won’t hesitate to throw a snowball to your face.”

“Oh God, please don’t do that.” Mortified and shaking his head, “I’m sorry, you win. I’ll do anything, just please have mercy on me.”

“Anything?”

Sunwoo gives a series of firm, convincing nods.

“Kiss me.”

The words took a while to register in his mind and he couldn’t help the breath hitching when he realised your request. Sunwoo almost stumbled backwards, your hands tug the fabric of his pockets, pulling him back to you and reality. It caused your foreheads to lightly bump and the impact made you wince at his stupidity. 

“I-I’m sorry! I-I’m—”

“Kim Sunwoo! There’s going to be a mark there! That hur—”

A pair of comforting hands hold your jawline, tilting your face to accommodate the height difference between the two once-best friends. When Sunwoo gets a better grip on himself, he quickly dives in when your lips part, swallowing your complaints and making his dreams come true. 

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

That’s how much he’s waited for this moment with you.

When his lips would slot against yours, hugging your top ones with his before pulling away to give the same amount of affection to your bottom ones. Your noses bump into each other slightly, making the moment seem real and fun, smiling and giggling when you both part for air. Shy and kind of embarrassed with how messy and uncoordinated it is but you both know you wouldn’t want to share each other’s firsts with anyone else. 

At this moment, it’s you and him in this world.

That’s how you ended the year. Clenched fist still inside his pockets, though that didn’t stop you from folding the fabric back so that you could have your arms wrapped around his middle to pull him closer. The sky soon blooms shortly after, and the happy firing noises illuminate the night sky, beating the dull light and colour of the moon that everyone sees every day. Because of the dynamic colours, Sunwoo is able to see the shades of the celebration mirrored on your skin, finding you more beautiful than ever before. 

Though beautiful, the fireworks did make Sunwoo roll his eyes when he seemingly needed to repeat variations of “Be my girlfriend!” even though you were less than ten centimetres away from his face. He knows after your third “What? I can’t hear you” that you were playing with him, giving you pecks of his lips across your face playfully, enjoying how your laughs neutralised the flowers in the sky. 

You ended the year with the start of a kiss with your best friend.

And start the new year with a new title for your ex-best friend.

With Kim Sunwoo, of course.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 7.9K

Notes: Hey look it's part two! This is the end of the fic!

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; mention of Reader's mother passing away, though it doesn't say how; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; possessive Tommy; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, unsafe sex

Summary: Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“You look impressed.” You noted it to him with pride. Thomas’ gaze swept around the hotel room as he pressed a tip into the bellboy’s hand. The young man dipped a courteous nod before hurrying out, shutting the suite door behind himself.

“You chose well,” Tommy conceded. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away to hide your proud smile. When Tommy had asked you to make arrangements for your trip, you’d been certain it was a test. It seemed like you’d passed, at least. The interior was opulent, with rich shades of red and tawny across the furnishings.

“There’s a balcony,” You nodded him toward it as you headed for the doors. You opened them, stepping out and peering over the hotel’s small courtyard. You heard Thomas come up behind you, felt his hand rest on your lower back as he set the other on the banister.

“It’ll be nice to be able to get some air without all of the street noise,” You added. Why were you so chatty now? It was hardly the first time you’d been alone with him.

Maybe it was the fact that Tommy had trusted you with this in the first place. Maybe it was how close he’d stuck to you on the car ride down, urging you to sit closer so that he could hear you properly over the rumbling of the road beneath his tires. Maybe it was the fact that, unless something else prevailed, you were going to share a bed with your husband for the first time that evening.

You glanced back toward Tommy and found him eyeing the courtyard below. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder and nodding inside.

“Do you like it?”

He turned to you, a small, patient smile on his lips.

“Yes,” He reassured, his thumb sweeping gently over your lower back. “I like it.”

You nodded, relieved, and turned back to the courtroom.

“What time is your meeting?”

“Six o’clock.”

“What time do you want me ready to go?”

“Five thirty should work well enough.”

You reached out, fishing into Tommy’s jacket for his timepiece. You ignored his heavy, curious look as you eyed the face. You had a couple of hours between now and then.

“Alright,” You shrugged, tucking the watch back where it belonged before you turned, heading into the room. It was another moment before Tommy followed you back inside.

“What’ll you wear?” He asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Where we’re going and who we’re meeting.” You crouched by your suitcase, casting Thomas a sidelong glance. “You still haven’t told me.”

He hummed, drifting closer and leaning against the bed frame.

“We're meeting Jay Miller.”

You frowned. That name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. He waited patiently as you wracked your mind. Jay Miller. Jay Miller…

Your mind flashed with a face that you used to know well—a warm smile, a lopsided grin, the flutter of dark lashes as you took him between your lips—

You turned away from Thomas, your face going hot.

“I didn’t know that you knew Jacob,” You said crisply.

“It’s a young acquaintance. Lewis made introductions.”

And you would have to thank your brother for that—perhaps with a smack upside of his head. What the devil was he thinking, introducing your husband to your former beau?

“How fortuitous.” You straightened from your suitcase, looking down at its contents. Jay Miller. Lord above. You hadn’t seen the man in years. Maybe he wouldn’t remember you? Maybe he wouldn’t dare say a thing in front of Tommy. Maybe Tommy didn’t even know—

“That one.”

Your mind quieted as Tommy stepped up beside you, pointing into the suitcase. Your brow furrowed as you followed his direction, crouching down to pluck up a purple beaded dress.

“Why this one?” You asked, turning the fabric over in your hands.

“I’ve never seen you in it.”

“You haven’t seen me in most of the things I’ve packed,” You pointed out. Tommy hummed, pressing tightly up against your back, making your stomach turn somersaults.

“Then this’ll be a good place to start,” He insisted.

“And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“We're having dinner at the Granville Hotel."

You drew in a shaky breath as he stepped away again, reahing into his pocket for his cigarette case as he headed back toward the balcony. You'd wear your purple dress to the Granville Hotel. Fine. You looked down at the dress, smoothing the crepe satin with your fingers. You’d known that you would need to prepare yourself physically, but preparing yourself mentally was now an entirely different matter.

-- 

It was a boon that Jacob seemed as shocked to see you as you had been when Tommy had mentioned his name to you. For as long as it had been, Jacob seemed almost wholly unchanged. He stood from the restaurant table, straightening his jacket as you and Tommy grew closer.

Jacob’s dark hair was neatly coiffed; his warm, dark eyes lingered heavily on you as you approached him on Tommy’s arm. He was taller than Tommy, nearly 6’4, with broad shoulders, and biceps that bulged in such a way that they seemed to challenge the seams of his suit. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Jacob turned his attention to Thomas, shaking his hand warmly.

“Mr. Miller,” They shook hands before Tommy gestured toward you, “I believe you know my wife.”

“I do,” Jacob nodded, “But I’m ashamed to say that I have not had the pleasure for quite some time.” He took hold of your extended hand, and while you’d expected a shake, he bowed over it, brushing a kiss to your knuckles. You fought to hold your expression steady as he leaned back, murmuring, “Mrs. Shelby.”

Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“Mr. Miller,” You answered softly. “It is nice to see you again.”

“And you.”

“Shall we sit?” Tommy asked.

“Please.” Jacob waved his hands to the seat on the other side of the table from him. Tommy pulled your chair out for you, nodding as you murmured your thanks. He leaned down, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, and you couldn’t help but glance back with a small smile on your lips. You didn’t even care if it was for show. The outward affection that Tommy had given you in the last few weeks felt so nice. It had been so long since you’d felt anything like that, not since—Well. Not since Jacob, at least.

You let your eyes stray to the other side of the table where Jacob seemed to be perusing the wine menu. It was a relief. You weren’t sure what business the two were engaged in, and finding out right off the bat would have been a bit much for you to handle. You knew well enough now that Thomas liked to ease into his business rather than state it outright.

--

Dinner was delicious. Course upon course upon course of perfectly prepared, filling food, chased by sips of the best bottles of wine that the restaurant had to offer you. Jacob and Thomas spent the entire meal exchanging pleasantries, talking around business…Until you reached the wasteland between dessert and the bill.

“...Now,” Jay started, folding his arms on the table. “We ought to come to our reason for meeting.”

“In front of the lady?”

“She can handle it.”

Where there had been a tease in Tommy’s voice, there was a thread of annoyance in Jay’s, insistent and firm. You weren’t sure who you were more grateful for at that moment. Jay knew you in your place in your family’s structure; Tommy was still learning you, in a way. He shifted in his seat a touch beside you, curling his arm around the back of your seat.

“I know she can,” Tommy insisted. “I just wanted to remind you that it’s simply not polite.”

Polite. You were almost certain that that word had never once applied to Tommy Shelby. Jay gave Tommy a tight smile, giving a small nod.

“Well then,” He replied, tone clipped. “Let’s get to it. We have sixteen distribution centers, but we’d only be able to lend five to you and your operations.”

You glanced toward Tommy, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. He nodded slowly, tapping the ash from his cigarette into the tray on the table.

“When we last spoke,” He spoke matter-of-factly, his tone tipped with venom, “You told me that ten centers would be available.”

“Yes, well.” Jay’s gaze flitted toward you lightning-quick, then away again. “That was blue sky thinking on my part. The fact of the matter is, we have five. Take them or leave them.”

“I’ll leave them.”

Your gaze flitted over to Tommy, stunned. He’d leave the option of five, rather than pursue them and find five elsewhere?

“You’re kidding,” Jay scoffed before he nudged you beneath the table with his foot. “Talk some sense into your husband.”

You considered for a moment, taking in Tommy properly. It was stalwart—almost flat—but he quirked a brow. You took in his expression, his countenance…And you knew. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be enough for him. You shook your head a little, your gaze fixed on Tommy as you agreed:

“It’s ten or nothing, Jay,” You warned.

“Please,” Jay laughed. “You can’t have bought into his shit so quickly.”

Tommy’s expression flickered as he turned to meet Jay’s eye again, his eyes narrowing.

“You doubt my wife’s sense?” Tommy frowned, his voice daring Jay to disagree.

“Thomas,” You warned softly, but it was drowned out by Jay’s, “I’m questioning whether your wife still has a mind of her own.”

Tommy stood so quickly that it made you jolt, stunned at the sudden move. Jay followed suit, the glasses on the table rattling as his thighs hit the table on the way up. You reached out, hurriedly steadying the table as the motions drew the attention of the other diners. You looked up, gaze darting between the two of them.

“You question my wife’s intellect. That is a dangerous path to walk.”

“I knew her long before you, Shelby, and better, if I do say so.”

“Is that right.”

“Thomas,” You hissed, “Don’t.”

Your dread grew as Tommy’s gaze held steadfast and heavily on Jay’s.

“Tommy,” You reached up, catching hold of his hand and squeezing it, “Please. Not here.”

It was another long, harrowing moment before Tommy lowered himself to sit beside you again, his arm curling around the back of your chair. You watched him, your heart pounding as Jay reluctantly lowered himself to sit, casting an apologetic smile toward the maître d.

“So,” Tommy drawled, “If five is all you’ve to offer, we may as well conclude our business now.”

“I suppose we should,” Jay agreed, his gaze drifting toward you. Your eyes dropped to Tommy’s shoulder, holding steadily there, rather than look at Jay.

“I’ll take care of the check,” Jay offered.

“There’s no need,” Tommy insisted, drawing out his money clip and slapping a stack of bills on the table. “It’s on us.”

--

Your entire body was hot as you stormed into your hotel room, already reaching up to remove your earrings as you crossed the threshold.

“Was that necessary?” You spat, glancing back toward him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

You bit your inner cheek, holding in a hysterical laugh. That was bullshit. You tossed the earrings onto the vanity, ignoring one that pinged off of the mirror and onto the floor. You reached back, struggling to tug your dress off. You huffed in irritation, simply holding your arms up. It was a moment before Tommy strolled over, drawing the dress off of your body. You turned away from you before he could get a proper look, snatching the dress, your pajamas, and robe before hurrying behind the room divider to change.

You drew off your slip and your stockings hurriedly, listening to Tommy mill around on the other side. You tugged on your pajamas and robe, tying the tie tightly before rounding the divider, your pretty purple dress balled up to shove into your suitcase.

“I did not appreciate that,” You announced primly, crouching beside the case for your toiletries. 

“Appreciate what, precisely?”

“Being used as a bargaining chip.”

You straightened, settling at the vanity and taking up your cold cream to take your makeup off.

“...That’s not why I brought you.”

“Bullshit.” You met his eye in the mirror, uncaring of the fact that you likely looked ridiculous, smearing cream all over your face. “You wanted a position from the higher ground, and bringing me, you got it.”

You sprung up, striding over to the restroom and taking up a washcloth. You twisted on the tap, running it under the water and raising it to clean away the cold cream. You looked into the mirror, swiping away the remaining smudges of kohl beneath your eyes. You drew in a steadying breath, fighting to staunch your irritation. It felt good, but it just wasn’t enough.

You could hear the twisting of a bottle top, chased by the almost melodic sound of whiskey being poured into a glass. You straightened up, pitching the used washcloth into the basin of the sink and winding into the room. You plucked the glass of whiskey out of Tommy’s hands moments before he could take a sip, stomping over to the balcony and yanking the door open. You drew in a deep gulp as you leaned against the balcony, peering into the courtyard. The small winding path around it was lit with small lanterns, swaying in the evening breeze. You heard Tommy’s footsteps approaching after a few moments, but refused to look in his direction.

“What if you’re right?” He asked after a few moments.

“Then I’d say that you’d accomplished your mission.”

“Thank you for following my lead.”

“You should’ve taken the five.”

“Excuse me?”

“Better to have five to start with and look for five,” You argued, glancing up at him. “You could’ve negotiated a lower fee with Jay and an equal fee elsewhere.”

“You think my choice is foolish.”

“I think it’s short-sighted.”

Tommy’s brows rose and fell swiftly.

“You’re certainly entitled to that opinion.”

The telephone rang on the side table just inside the bedroom, and Tommy stepped away with a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As he went back inside. You turned to watch him, leaning against the balcony and watching him. He plucked the phone up, tucking it against his ear and answering, “Yes…Ah, Jay,” His gaze darted to yours. “I didn’t expect to hear from you this evening…Mm…Mhm…I see…”

Your brows rose, stomach roiling with nerves as you listened.

“Yes…Yes, ten centers will still do just fine,” Tommy insisted. You narrowed your eyes slightly. Dickhead.

“Of course… I understand…Thank you…Lovely doing business with you as well.”

You rested your chin on your hand as you heard Tommy lower the receiver back into the cradle. A moment later, he joined you on the balcony. You listened as he drew out a cigarette, tucked it between his lips, and lit a match. You caught the acrid scent of his cigarette just a few moments later.

“...Go on,” You finally sighed.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Gloat. Get it over with.”

“I think I’ll wait.”

--

“Tell me about him.”

Getting into bed with Thomas had been nerve-wracking. You’d been certain that he’d stay up and go out, but as you’d shut the light off and gotten under the covers, he’d joined you. There was a good amount of space between the two of you. You’d been staring at the ceiling, praying that sleep would come quickly, but you’d laid in silence until he’d asked that shocking question.

“What?” You frowned, letting your head loll to the side to look at him.

“Jacob Miller.”

You could feel him watching you in the room’s low light. You rolled onto your side to face him, tucking your hands under your head.

“I’m sure you did your research before doing business with him.”

“I did, but everything that I know is strictly professional. How did you meet him?”

You sighed softly, casting your mind back.

“It was at a party.”

“You brother’s?”

“No, he was still too young then. One of my Aunt Pearl’s friends threw it.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“How old was he?”

“Mm…Twenty I guess.”

“You liked him.”

“Not at first.”

“Why not?”

“He was just…I don’t know,” You shook your head. “He was too showy, flashy. Loud. But, he was already drunk by the time I got there. He’s far more calm when he doesn’t have a few in him.”

“Did you want to marry him?”

You considered for a moment, your thumb sweeping along the band of your wedding ring.

“I used to, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you?���

“...It didn’t feel right.”

“And our marriage did?”

Did. The word hit you low in the belly. Did? Not does? What made Tommy think that your stance on the marriage had changed already? Was it your irritation at his tactics earlier that evening? You were certainly justified in that upset, and you wouldn’t let him talk you down from that, at least.

“...It’s different,” You insisted. “Jacob and I were simply attracted to one another. No strings. You and I married for the sakes of our families.”

“Do you regret it?”

You were quiet for a moment, taking in Tommy’s features.

“...No,” You shook your head. “We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?”

Tommy nodded slowly, his foot gently brushing yours beneath the sheets.

“That we did.”

You nodded, relief melting over you.

“Have you ever been in love?” You hedged. It took a moment before Tommy admitted, “Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“There was a girl. Greta. We were young, and…She got very sick.”

“Only her?”

“...Another, named Grace. She worked at the Garrison.”

“Why her?”

“I thought we were cut from the same cloth.”

“...And now?”

Pain flashed across Tommy’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Now I know better.”

-- 

It was strange to wake up with someone else. You opened your eyes slowly, focusing on the rise-and-fall of your belly with the weight of Tommy’s arm atop it, the heat of his body pressed into your side. You tipped your head to look at him, taking him in properly in the early morning light. You raised your hand, gently smoothing back his sleep-mussed hair.

The night had yielded far more than you’d expected. You hadn’t expected Tommy to tell you about his first love, and you hadn’t expected him to ask about yours. You hoped that it would bring you closer, but with Tommy, you could never tell. Maybe it was leverage…But if it was, why would he have told you about Greta, or Grace? You peered up at the ceiling, noting to yourself that you ought to ask Peggy more about them when you got back to Birmingham.

You glanced toward Tommy as you felt him sigh, nuzzling your shoulder sleepily.

“...Morning,” You murmured. He hummed softly, turning his head from the window.

“I want coffee.” “I’ll order room service.”

You rolled over, reaching for the phone. You sucked in a breath as Tommy’s arms curled around your middle, his body pressing up against your back. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to dial the front desk.

“...Hello?...Two coffees…” You requested, “And, um…” You drew the receiver away. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Toast for now.”

“And two orders of toast…Room 402…Thank you.” You hung up, settling back down in bed. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Should be ten for what we’re paying to stay here, ” Tommy sighed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Fine…You?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Tommy rolled away, stretching and yawning widely before he sat up. You stayed in bed, trying to remember the warmth of Tommy cuddling so close, certain that you wouldn’t feel it again any time soon. You’d forgotten how nice it was to be held. You watched him for a few moments, taking in the expanse of his pale back before you finally pushed yourself to sit up, lowering your gaze to the sheets as Tommy turned back toward you.

“...You alright?” He asked after a moment. You swallowed thickly, forcing a placid expression as you met his gaze again.

“Of course.”

For a moment, you thought that he may push back for an answer, but he let it go, nodding as he fished into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.

-- 

The news that the Blakes would be visiting Birmingham had reached Pearl first. She had mentioned it to Polly, who had told Tommy while Lewis was in earshot. Lewis had written and sent you a note, and you’d had the facts of it by noon.

By the time Tommy returned for the evening, you were completely occupied with the arrangements. He found you in the kitchen with notebooks and your planner spread out over the table.

“I see you’ve heard,” He commented.

“I have.”

“Is there dinner?”

“There's soup and bread in the oven.”

Tommy grunted, walking more deeply into the kitchen. You hardly registered the feeling of him resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“...How was work?” You asked after a few moments.

“Fine.” You heard the oven door open, then close again. You tutted as he nudged some of your work aside, setting his plate down before he sat beside you. You could see Tommy rolling his sleeves up out of the corner of your eye, but you simply drew another notebook nearer to yourself, eyeing an itemized grocery list.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“Totaling the estimated costs. I want everything to be prepared before they arrive.”

“Mm…Have you eaten?”

You turned the page of your mother's old notebook, brow furrowing. Was it apple cake or apple pie that the Blakes preferred? Or apple strudel? You knew that there was apple involved—

You jolted as the notebook was yanked out from beneath your hands, tossed to the other side of the table, out of reach. You whirled around, eyes wide.

“Tommy!”

He pushed the plate toward you, turning it in your direction so that the stew was closer to you than it was to him. “Eat.”

“And what’s to stop me from just taking up the notebook up again?”

“I am.” Tommy snapped his fingers, pointing at the plate. “Eat.”

You huffed softly, taking up a piece of bread and reluctantly dipping it into the stew.

“...I made this for you,” You grumbled.

“What was it that the minister said when we were married? About the two being as one? Means we share.”

“How technical,” You grumbled through your mouthful. You glanced up as Tommy nudged a glass of wine closer to you. You took the glass up, taking a deep pull before passing it back. Lord above, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were. It hit you all at once, your stomach grumbling as you swallowed. You didn’t dare look at Tommy, nervous that he’d heard it.

“How long have you been at this?” He asked, waggling a finger toward the mess on the table.

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Mm. An awful lot of uproar for the Blakes.”

You cast him a sidelong glance, brow raised. “The Blakes are one of the oldest families in our acquaintance. I haven’t seen them since I was a child, since—” Since before your mother had passed. You cleared your throat, lowering your gaze to the plate. “Anyway. I was just going over my mother’s old party notes. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Beyond offending them and losing our connections? Gee, Thomas, I can’t think of a thing,” You quipped dryly. He seemed to smile unwittingly.

“Less chatting, more chewing,” He counseled, nudging the bowl closer again.

-- 

“I trust you have everything in hand.”

Pearl’s tone indicated that she did not trust that you did, in fact, have everything in hand. Despite her prickly barb and lack of faith, you’d managed everything quite well. The Blakes would be staying in your guest room, which had been fully kitted out when you’d remodeled the house. You’d ordered in a chef and a sous chef for the next few days, giving you the freedom to deal with the house, and you’d hired on a maid permanently. Ethel was a quick, eager, high-spirited woman, who had practically been your shadow for the last few days.

You cast Pearl a sidelong glance, jaw clenched as she lazily swept her eyes across the neat sitting room. You could just make out the sound of the cook and his sous chef bustling about in the kitchen, Ethel in the living room, setting the table.

“Yes, I have,” You nodded. “And thank you for all of your help this week.”

Pearl snorted at your contemptuous tone, tapping the ashes from her cigarette into a tray on the sideboard.

“You’re the lady of the house. You have to learn how to manage these things for yourself sometime. It may as well be now.”

You sighed, turning to the house and straightening the cushions for what had to be the eightieth time that day.

“Did you see them when they went into the office?” You asked, glancing back toward Polly.

“Mm, briefly. Beulah looked like hell. Poor woman never did have the stomach for the crossing. They booked too late, couldn’t get a cabin close enough to the middle. She must've spent the last five full days chucking her guts up.”

“Pearl,” You scowled, disgusted.

“I”m simply saying, don’t be too offended if she doesn’t eat too much at dinner tonight.”

“Mm. How about the old man?”

“Oh, you know Chester. Strong as an ox. He’ll outlive us all.” Pearl was quiet for a moment before she added, “They brought Hugh.”

The news hit you like a freight train. You groaned loudly, giving your foot one petulant stomp before striding over to the door to the dining room. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself before you opened the door.

“Ethel.”

“Ma’am?”

“We’ll be ten for dinner tonight—Unless,” You glared over toward Polly, “You have any more surprises.”

“Not a one. You’re a dear, Ethel,” Pearl gave her a bright smile. You turned your own tight smile toward Ethel, nodding, “Ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s better this way,” Pearl insisted as you let the door swing closed. “You were saying that you hated a lopsided table. Hugh evens out numbers.”

“How kind of him,” You grumbled. “How old is he now?”

“Thirty.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

“Mm.”

“...Attractive.”

You arched a brow at Pearl’s comment. She watched you for a moment before she lowered her gaze to the smoldering end of her cigarette.

“Is your husband still seeing that woman?” She asked. The mention of Lizzie made your gut pang with bitterness, but you forced your face into an uninterested mask as you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” You admitted.

“Does he bring her around?”

“No, but he may go to her. However he handles that business, he doesn’t—...It isn’t in the house, at least.”

“Have you considered asking him?”

“I don’t care what he does.”

“It’s up to you to know. Especially for the course of this visit.”

You sighed softly. “Thomas will do what’s best for the business. He won’t jeopardize it for a roll in the hay.”

“You’re certain?”

“Trust me, aunt. If there is one thing that he cares for in this world, it’s that.”

-- 

Pearl’s assessments of your visitors had been correct—you could see that the second they walked through the door.

With a full head of greyed hair and a neatly trimmed handlebar mustache, standing at 6’2, Chester Blake had the same larger-than-life air that he’d possessed when you were young. He was a little thicker around the middle than he had been the last time you’d seen him, but the sands of time didn’t exactly flow north. He was aging, but he wore it well. Beulah, on the other hand, looked as if she’d spent the entire crossing on the cargo hold of the ship. Her hair and clothing were neatly styled, but her typically pinked fair skin looked sallow, and her expression was drawn. Her bright grey eyes were dull, and her smile seemed just a little wobbly as she took you in.

“My word,” She managed, “How much you’ve grown.”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” You smiled as you embraced her, “Either of you.”

“A lie, and one that your mother would’ve abhorred, rest her soul,” Chester patted your shoulder, “But I’m happy to hear it myself.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I think that my mother would’ve scolded me if I hadn’t said as such.”

Tommy skirted around Beulah, resting a hand on your hip and leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. You smiled, despite the fact that the show of affection was likely a show for your guests.

“We mustn’t all crowd in the doorway,” You insisted as Tommy helped Beulah out of her coat, passing it off to Ethel, “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“Have you got whiskey?” Chester asked as they followed you into the sitting room.

“Man after my own heart,” Tommy commented, walking over to the sideboard.

“And you, Beulah? Some tea, perhaps?” You suggested softly. She took your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“Ginger?”

“You’re an angel.”

“Ethel,” You turned to your maid as she headed for the kitchen, “A ginger tea for Mrs. Blake, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

You guided Beulah to a seat before joining Tommy at the sideboard.

“Would you like one?” He murmured.

“Thank you, no. I think it’d be best if I kept my head for the evening. There’ll be wine with dinner, besides.”

“Mm.”

You glanced toward Beulah where she had closed her eyes, then looked toward Chester, where he was eyeing the tintype photographs of your parents, and of Lewis when he was young.

“...Where are the boys?” You asked after a moment.

“With Polly and Pearl, showing Hugh a good time at the Garrison.”

You groaned quietly in annoyance. That was just what you needed—the lot of them spilling in to dinner, absolutely smashed.

“They’ll be on their best behavior,” Tommy added before you could complain further.

“You’re certain?”

“They gave me their word.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you gave a short nod, murmuring, “Alright.” You could feel Tommy eyeing you for a moment before you felt his hand slide across your waist. You raised your eyes to his as he shifted just a little closer, his hip pressing to yours.

“The contract was signed this morning—everything from here on out is just pleasantries. Relax.”

You drew in a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before you sighed, lowering your eyes to collar. You closed your eyes as Tommy leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You patted his hand softly before he drew away, taking up one of the glasses and turning back to your guests.

“Here you are, Chester.”

You glanced toward Beulah, grimacing as you saw her raise her hand to her mouth, resting it there, as if she wasn’t sure whether she’d be ill or not. You walked over to her, forgoing propriety as you crouched beside her.

“The tea should be ready in a moment. Would you like to go and lie down for a few minutes before dinner?”

She gave you a small, grateful smile.

“I’ll be alright, dear,” She insisted, patting your hand. “But could I ask you to get the tin of mints from my coat? They’re in the left pocket.”

“Of course.”

You straightened, heading for the coat closet. You’d only just retrieved the tin when the front door was flung open. You heard the clamoring of voices just a moment later, and you watched as Polly, Pearl, Lewis, Arthur, John, and an unfamiliar man piled in. You folded your arms across your chest, unable to help the slight, disapproving raise of your brow. Pearl caught sight of you first, and she cackled, pinching your cheek.

“Give up the sourpuss, pet, it’s only us.”

“I can see that, thank you.”

Ethel zipped into the hall, rushing to collect the coats as quickly as they were being shrugged off. You gave Lewis, Arthur, and John a peck on the cheek as they passed you, heading into the sitting room.

“I don’t get one?”

The man’s voice gave you pause, and you turned to get a better look at him.

Hugh Chester Blake had been a menace of a child when you were growing up—stealing your books, dipping the ends of your hair in ink, shoving you down into the dirt as he passed. Your gaze swept him speculatively. He had his mother’s eyes, his father’s thick, dark head of hair. You had remembered a lanky little twit, but he’d grown to be quite tall and quite broad.

“Hello, Hugh,” You greeted.

“That’s not a very warm welcome, is it.” He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to step back, swallowing thickly as he crowded into your space. Christ, where had Polly and Pearl gone? Play nice, just play nice. Pleasantries, you thought. Thomas had done the hard work, you couldn’t undo it by insulting the man—

“About time, Hugh,” You heard.

You could’ve cried with relief as Tommy joined you, curling a territorial arm around your waist.

“Mrs. Blake is looking for those mints, darling,” Tommy added. Darling, that was new—Your mind stalled at the endearment before you squeaked, “Oh, goodness! Excuse me.”

You hurried away from the crowded doorway, just catching on Tommy saying, “You boys took your sweet time.”

You crouched beside Mrs. Blake’s seat again, murmuring your apologies as you passed the tin over.

“It’s quite alright,” She insisted, “I know all about the hosting game—your attention is torn ten different directions.”

You smiled gratefully, giving her hand a squeeze as you straightened, glancing around. Everyone had drinks in hand…And Tommy and Hugh were still in the doorway. You frowned, recognizing the tight, irritated set of Tommy’s jaw. What could they possibly be discussing—?

“Dinner is nearly ready, Mrs. Shelby.” Ethel’s news snapped you out of your contemplation, and you nodded, smiling at her.

“I’ll start herding the cats, then. Thank you, Ethel.”

--

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. Every dish had been prepared perfectly—and the chef had been quick to heat broth for Beulah when she’d been wary of not being able to keep any of the rich meal down. You could feel yourself beginning to truly relax as you watched Pearl and Polly dance with John and Lewis. The sound of the record player, their chatter and laughter began to brighten up the typically drab, quiet calm of the sitting room.

“Room on your card for me?”

Hugh’s question made you clam up again, and your eyes darted to his palm. Pleasantries. You could manage one dance, couldn’t you? You gave him a small smile, resting your hand in his. You knew the moment that you did that it was a mistake. He tugged you far too harshly toward the others, causing you to nearly trip over your own feet. He rested his hand on your lower back, fingers splaying wide, nearly dipping lower than what was appropriate. Your hear ticked up in your chest as you took in the ruddiness in his cheeks.

Hugh was drunk.

You didn’t know how much he’d had at the Garrison, but he’d been pounding the wine back at dinner, nearly drinking an entire bottle alone, and hardly touching his food. Now, he jerkily steered you around the crowded space, his grasp on your hand so tight it was nearly painful. Where was Beulah? Maybe you could excuse yourself to check in on her—

“I’m cutting in.”  

Your eyes darted gratefully to Tommy as he grasped Hugh’s jacket, forcing the man to stop.

“What?” Hugh asked, face reddening in irritation.

“I said,” Tommy stepped closer, “I’m cutting in. I want to dance with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind. It was tactful, almost genius. It put the ball in Hugh’s court. The polite thing to do would be to acquiesce; if he didn’t, the phrasing and his refusal to let go would seem absolutely ridiculous. You felt Hugh glance between you and Tommy before he reluctantly passed you into Tommy’s hands.

“Thank you for the dance,” You added over your shoulder before Tommy steered you to the other side of the dance floor. You sighed softly, resting your forehead against Tommy’s shoulder. “Your timing was superb.”

Tommy hummed knowingly, swaying you slowly as Arthur switched the record over.

“Are you alright?” He asked, sweeping his thumb over the side of your hand.

“I am now,” You murmured, lifting your head to look at Tommy. He nodded, gaze sweeping your face. His nose brushed gently against yours, his eyes flitting to your lips, and lingering. You swiped your tongue along your lower lip, stomach fluttering as Tommy pressed his lips to yours. You felt the swaying slow, then stop as Tommy’s arm curled around your waist, drawing you into his chest. You gently lifted your hand from his shoulder, resting on his nape. You had barely kissed him on your wedding day. This was sweet in a way that you’d never known from Tommy—a way that you wanted to become more familiar with.

The hoots and whoops from Lewis, Arthur, and John snapped you from the tender embrace, and you turned your head from Tommy, embarrassedly pressing your face into his neck.

“Alright, pipe down,” Tommy grumbled. When you managed to draw yourself from your nervous hiding place, you found Polly and Pearl sharing a smile.

--

“…What are you doing in here?”

The question flew out of your mouth, coated in your surprise, and you could see the swell of Tommy’s amusement as he closed your bedroom door behind himself.

“Hugh is in my room,” He informed you. Oh—Lord above. You nodded a little. Of course. How hadn’t you thought of that?

“I see,” You muttered. Tommy hummed, pushing off from the door and walking deeper inside. You watched him take in the furnishings, his gaze sweeping the armchair and bookshelf, the small reading table, the nightstand…And the bed. You raised your hand, scrubbing at the back of your neck.

It was going to be alright, you told yourself. You’d slept with Tommy—you’d been asleep with Tommy—before, just a few weeks ago. That had been a comfortable enough experience, so…So this would be more than alright. You were certain of it.

“I’ll just,” You gestured toward the divider in the corner of the room, “I’ll go change.” You skirted around it before Tommy could argue, or offer to be the one to change behind it. You plucked up your pajamas and stepped behind the divider, scrubbing your hands over your heated face once you were out of his line of vision. How did this man still make you so nervous?

“...It was a lovely evening.” Tommy’s insistence floated over the divider to you, prompting you to snap into action.

“Yes, it was,” You answered, words slightly muffled as you drew your dress up and over your head. You hung it over the silk folding screen, reaching for the fastenings on your brassiere and corset. “I’ll have to give the cook an excellent recommendation. Dinner was superb.”

“Yes.”

You drew off your thigh-highs, hanging them on the screen by your dress. You pulled on your nightdress, smoothing your hands over the cool, sky-blue fabric before putting on the matching robe.

“…May I come out?” You asked, damning your nerves.

“Of course.”

You stepped around the screen, surprised to find Tommy in bed already. He had the manuscript that had been on your bedside table in hand.

“You’re making progress,” He commented, flipping through a few pages, skimming a few of your corrections and notes.

“I was. Things got a little…Held up with the Blake’s visit,” You admitted. You’d hardly touched the manuscript in the last couple of weeks. You walked over to the basin, trying to ignore the feeling of Tommy’s gaze following you.

“…Is that new?” He asked.

“Hm?” You looked at them, finding his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. The interest in his gaze warmed you, and you hurriedly looked away again as his eyes swept upward. “Oh, the—This? No.”

“Had it long?”

“A few months.” It was another outfit that you’d gotten for your honeymoon months ago—one that Tommy would never had had a reason to see before.

“Will you be reading before bed?” Tommy asked.

“I think not. It’s been a long day.”

The stress was beginning to drain from your system, making you feel the full weight of your fatigue. You were almost certain that you’d fall asleep the second your head hit the pillow. You washed your face quickly, listening to Tommy turn the pages of the manuscript every few moments. When you finished, you dried your hands and turned back to the bed.

“Would you like to leave that light on?” You asked, nodding toward the lamp on the bedside table as you shrugged your robe off, hanging it up on the bed post.

“I can do without it, unless you’d like it on.”

“No! I’m alright,” You chirped as you climbed into bed, tugging the covers up. Tommy set the manuscript aside, shutting the light off before he settled down in bed beside you. You could feel his legs brush against yours as you the two of you laid on your sides facing one another.

“…Hugh’s a live one, isn’t he,” Tommy commented.

“He hasn’t been told no much before.”

“That became quite clear.”

You shivered at the thread of steel in Tommy’s tone. You reached out, tracing a finger gently along the back of his hand.

“Thank you again,” You added, “For stepping in when you did.”

“I told you,” Tommy turned his hand over beneath yours. “If I ever find out another man touched you, I’ll give you his hands.”

You huffed a soft laugh through your nose.

“May put a bit of a damper on your contract with his father.”

“Though they’d make an excellent trophy above the mantle.”

“That’s vile,” You giggled, smile widening as Tommy’s hand wrapped around yours. You were quiet for a few moments, reveling in the heat of his palm against yours. “…I don’t suppose I’m afforded the same opportunity?” You added.

“What do you mean?”

“Whose hands would I get to take as a trophy?”

Tommy met the statement with silence, and it made you want to sink into the bed. You’d been joking—

“There’s been no one,” He finally said. The admission made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s been no one,” He repeated.

“But…Lizzie—”

“Not for months.”

Months. When had it stopped? And—

“Why?” You asked, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He pressed another to your forearm, then shifted closer, lips brushing against your shoulder. He turned his head, and your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Tommy—” You breathed, but you were unable to get another word out as his lips covered yours. You sighed against his lips, raising your other hand to smooth over the close crop of his undercut. He let go of your hand just long enough to grasp your nightdress, using his hold on the fabric to draw you closer, then steer himself up over you. You let your thighs splay as he slotted between them, pressing his bare chest against you, hips flush and grinding against yours. His kisses trailed lower, hands grasping covetously at the fabric covering your chest. He gave the lace a yank, and you hissed softly as you heard it rip.

“Tommy—Oh,” Your mouth fell open as he drew one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, “Damnit—I liked this nightdress.”

Tommy lifted his head, lips brushing your chin. “I’ll get you others,” He grumbled against you, “I’ll buy you a hundred more tomorrow.” His hand slipped between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers brushed against your pussy. You tipped your hips up into his touch pleadingly, lowering your chin and finding his lips with yours.

“I want you bare,” He murmured against your lips.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.”

The answer made you go still, embarrassment and nerves flipping your stomach. Tommy took your face in his hands, holding your gaze steadily with his.

“I’m going to make love to my wife.”

--

His palm pressed heavily over your mouth, muffling your moans as his cock stretched your needy core. You pressed your head back into the pillows, curling your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around the backs of his.

“Sssh,” He murmured, the push of the hush brushing against your ear. “We don’t want the Blakes hearing, do we?”

You managed to shake your head a little, blinking up at Tommy as you panted broadly against his palm. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fully sheathed himself in you. You reached up, tugging Tommy’s hand away and catching his lips in a kiss. His fingers intertwined with yours, raising your joined hands to rest on the pillow beside you. He rolled his hips gently, then again as you whimpered, swirling his tongue with yours. Tommy fucked you with slow, even strokes, trading slow kisses as you moaned and panted into one another’s mouths.

Tommy broke your kiss, pressing his face into your neck as his thrusts became harder. You gasped, sinking your nails into his shoulders as you let your eyes slide closed. The bed was beginning to creak with his movements, the slapping of your hips slightly muffled beneath the sheets. You felt the familiar curling sensation beneath your waist, and you slid a hand down, grasping Tommy’s behind and using the grip to urge him on. He drew back just enough to get a good look at you, his eyes bright in the dim room. You sucked in a stunned breath as he reached between your legs, fingers teasing your clit as his hips pounded yours more roughly.

Your eyes widened as the headboard whacked against the wall behind you.

“Tommy,” You chastised, “Hugh will hear—”

“Let him,” Tommy spat, “Let him hear how I take care of my wife.”

You bit your lip to quiet your moans, grasping his wrist and stilling it as his touch tipped you over the edge. Your hips bounded up against his, chased by the harsh slamming of his hips, and the heat of him spilling into you. The scrape and squeak of the bed quieted as Tommy braced himself over you, looking down at your sweat-sheened body. He leaned down, brushing his lips over your breasts, then up, over your neck. You closed your eyes, curling your arm around his shoulder and resting your hand on the nape of his neck. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the pounding of his heart against yours. You turned your head, nuzzling his hair and pressing a kiss to his head.

“…Think that dresser has enough room for my things, too?” He mumbled. You grinned, tightening your grip on him as his hand tenderly smoothed along your thigh.

“It certainly does.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @babaohhhriley ; @thescarletfang ;

[the-kr8tor]

Parallel Cut

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is taller than r though) , TW violence, CW injury, CW food mention, suggestive content.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 10 >>> EPILOGUE

You walk through aunt Janet's shop, eyes adjusting to the lights. The smell of the store wafts through your senses, the old carpet smell, rows and rows of fabric displayed on the shelves smelling of chemicals and dye. There's a faint smell of leather lingering in the air, reminding you of Hobie. Trainers squeak briefly on the floor, waking you up from your zombie like trance.

When did you even get here?

Your mind has been noisy since yesterday, you've mostly been on autopilot, muscle memory guiding you to your destination. Rubbing your tired eyes, barely sleeping last night, you had the urge to knock on Hobie's door to help soothe your screaming head. You feel a throbbing pain behind your eyes, temple aching in a stabbing headache.

You make your way towards the register, finding it empty, you ring the call bell.

"I'll be there in a second" Janet's voice answers. You have no energy to reply back.

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, fingers fiddling with your ring, its red beady eyes glaring at you, you turn it around so that it faces your palm. Clutching your hand into a tight fist, you're sure it leaves a spider shaped indent on your soft skin.

You already know you're not gonna take the offer so why are you feeling this way? Is it because you're afraid of telling Hobie? If you did, what would be his reaction to it? Whatever it is, you won't accept the job. You only have one Hobie, there'll always be another job, right?

Exhaling, you scratch off a bit of your nail polish, it falls on the floor like snowflakes. Janet finally makes an appearance, cane thumping against carpet, face lighting up when she sees you.

"And here I thought you wouldn't pick up your order" she chuckles, eyes staying on your leather jacket. "Nice jacket, wonder whose that is?" Janet gives you a teasing look, eyebrow raising knowingly.

Giving her a shy smile, you bite your lip. "He made the move– well it was a team effort for the both of us" chuckling, your eyes twinkle when talking about him.

Janet claps her hand, you jump slightly at the cracking sound. For an old woman she could clap really loud. She grins widely at you, smile lines prominent.

"Oh my days! Finally!" She clutches her pearls, "oh so proud of you, sweetheart. Tell me, How'd it go? Only if you're comfortable of course"

"Well he made this really dramatic entrance at the show, running late of course" Janet hangs on to every word, eyes flickering to your tired ones. "After he walked on the runway he just upped and kissed me" you say still in disbelief, happy that you've finally told someone else in person.

Telling Yuri and the others on the phone wasn't as satisfying as you thought it would be. Still, their happy screeches and between 'told you so's'– It left a very giddy look on your face while Hobie rolls his eyes at Yuri telling James he owes her money. Ned was yelling the entire time, chanting 'I did that!' On the speaker, so loud in fact you thought he was gonna break it.

You didn't even mean to tell them at first, but when you answered the phone, Hobie's phone at three am, voice hoarse, sleep still in your eyes with Hobie tangled around your body, telling you in his sleep deprived voice to drop the call, it's safe to say your eardrums almost burst out with (a very drunk) Ned's surprised screech followed by (an equally drunk) Yuri and James. There goes keeping it a secret for a while till you two get the hang of things.

Despite that, your past thoughts linger in the back of your head, hammering loudly, threatening to break down your defensive walls.

"But you don't look too happy" Janet pipes up after your retelling. She looks concerned, lips turning into a thin line. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm really happy" Voice quiet, surprised that she saw through the cracks. You're really happy but the offer has your very being torn in half. Occupying your thoughts, eating you inside.

"Honey, I have five children and eleven grandkids, trust me I can tell." She sighs, eyes softening. "You don't have to tell me, but if that boy did something–"

Shaking your head, you're prepared to defend Hobie with your life. "It's not him." With a wobbly breath, you ask her for advice. "Did you ever have to leave someone you love because it'll be better in the long run?"

"Depends, better for whom exactly?" She turns around, grabbing your order from the shelf behind her. "And why would it be better for them?" Bringing the rolls of fabric on the counter with a thump.

"Nevermind, it's nothing" you retract your previous words. Palm aching from how hard you're clenching your fists, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Janet nods, genuine concern on her face. "I don't want to push you, but if you still want my advice just ask." She rings up your purchase.

"Thank you" paying for the fabric, you walk away from the cashier. An idea pops up wherein you don't have to directly ask, because if you did, it would make it real.

"A friend of mine was offered a job" biting your lip, you're technically not lying to her since your classmate Hannah got offered the same thing as you.

Walking back to the counter, Janet listens intently. "And uh, she's worrying about leaving her friends because the job requires her to move away," you pause for a brief second. "Really far away. And she hasn't told them"

"Give your friend my congratulations then." She smiles at you, "Was it a good offer at least?"

"Yeah, they gave m–her a lot to consider. It's a great opportunity for her," with all the numerous visits at her shop, you've grown to trust Aunt Janet with her wisdom in life, not to mention you're quite similar to each other. You value her opinion.

"But she's anxious because she wants to stay with her friend?" You nod at her question, knowing exactly what she's implying. "Well, ask her what was her initial reaction to the news, that usually gives a lot of information on what she truly feels" remembering your excitement and happy first reaction, you try to cover it up in your mind.

"She really doesn't want to leave him behind" your eyes start watering at the thought.

"Does she love him?"

"A lot, she loves him so much it hurts sometimes." You inhale at the confession, feeling guilty that you're dumping it all on Janet.

She takes your clenched hand that's been shaking on the counter, unclenching it, your nails leave half moon indents on your palms.

"Just talk to him, tell him. He'll help her figure it out, better than this old woman can" Janet squeezes your hand. You nod, taking her advice.

"Thank you, I'll tell her that" smiling at aunt Janet, you blink away the tears pooling in your watery eyes.

"Do you want to have a cup of tea? My daughter just sent me a batch from India. I think you'll like it." Janet asks, determined to help ease your mind off of things.

"Okay, sure" accepting, she leads you behind the counter into the back of the store.

—

You wave to Janet goodbye, stomach full of tea and biscuits. Opening the door, you stop in your tracks.

Hobie leans on his bike, grinning widely as he sees you come out of the store. He gives you a look that sweeps you off your feet, feeling like you're back in school having a crush on your best friend. Your heart sings in his presence, a giddy smile on your lips, practically skipping over to him.

"Hi, what are you doing here?" Your smile turns into a frown when you spot a cut on his lip. "Holy shit! What happened? Who did this to you?" Anger settles in your chest. Hands carefully cupping his jaw, scanning for more injuries. You grit your teeth, winching at the thought of him getting hurt.

"It's nothing I can't handle, you should've seen the tosser who tried to take me on" He holds your wrist, calloused fingertips massaging the tensed muscle.

"Are you okay? Any pain?"

"I'm fine, I can barely feel it now" it's how he finds out about his enhanced healing, thanks to the ability, he healed it in no time. The injury looked much worse before coming to you. Still, he savors you doting on him, "Gromit, I'm fine, yeah? Don't worry"

You let out a breath you didn't notice you were holding. Hand sliding down to his neck, fingers fiddling with his necklace. "Are you sure? Let's just go home for today, then you can tell me who I need to beat up" pulling back, your eyebrows knitted together.

"Nah, c'mon. I feel better now that you're here" Hobie pats the seat of the motorcycle. Noticing that you haven't moved, he tilts his head, giving you his most convincing smile. "Gromit, love, cherry" He calls every nickname you have until there's a shy smile on your lips, he even calls your most embarrassing childhood nicknames, "little worm, pebbles, guppy" you hide behind your hand.

"Okay, enough" you laugh, embarrassed at the names, especially that you're on a semi busy street. Taking your hands away from your face to cup Hobie's mouth. He smiles underneath it.

"There she is" Hobie brings you closer, pulling you by the sleeve of his jacket.

"I hate you" you grin through it, eyes flicking down to his lips, worried that you might exacerbate his injury if you kiss him right there and then.

He chuckles deeply, "You love me though" Hobie shuts down your apprehensiveness, lips a breath away from yours.

Sighing, you act exasperated but your love struck smile betrays you. "Unfortunately, I do" you quip back, words stitched with fondness. Closing your eyes, he guides you into the kiss. Hands flying to the back of his neck, deepening it further.

The nagging feeling stays, whispering and taunting. You push it far back in your mind, it gnaws and claws, begging to be let out.

—

You whistle out at the breathtaking view in front of you, clutching the bag of fish and chips in your arms, Hobie helps you take off your helmet. The cliff overlooks the city's landscape, sunset turning everything around you in an orange glow. To your right is a dozen or so picnic tables, moss clings to the wood, still it stands tall. Behind is the woods, thick enough to get lost in, curved oak and pine looming like giants. Birds chirp in the background adding to the calm scenery.

"Do you take all your women here?" You ask teasingly half seriously.

"Only the ones I've pined for since childhood" he joins your side, shoving you with his hip lightly. Hobie takes the bag from your arm in exchange for his hand. Intertwining his fingers with yours as heat rises to your cold cheeks.

You and Hobie are the only ones in the place, save for a few birds and critters hanging around. Cold air nips at your neck, the sun making it warm enough to enjoy the weather.

Hand in hand, he guides you towards one of the tables. Sitting down, you inhale the fresh air. Hobie gives you your share of chips, you smile at him appreciatively.

"So, who do I have to beat up?" You ask, cracking your knuckles for added effect.

Hobie chortles, "hell, I'll even help you"

"What happened anyway?"

He sighs, frustrated. "We got blocked, they knocked down one of us for no reason. Things escalated" Hobie saves you from the violence. "Fuckin' Wilson Fisk still sits pretty up in his ivory tower" his frustration barks back. "Sorry" He exhales, unclenching his fists.

"Don't be, I should've been there. I'm the one who should be sorry" You take his hand, squeezing it three times.

"If you were there, you could've gotten hurt. Don't think I can handle that" The thought of you almost getting trampled back in the pit still weighs heavy in his mind. He brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a quick yet affectionate kiss over your skin. "Everyone's fairly okay, we got out early. We'll try again though"

"I'll be there next time, are you sure it's not hurting anymore? Once we get back home, I'll put some betadine over it" the thought of you on his lap, cooing and cleaning his wounds fills him with affection.

"I'm sure, love" Hobie exhales. "Let's eat, it's starting to get cold" you nod, still concerned for him. Hobie watches your eyes roam around the greenery. "D'you seriously not remember this place?" Sitting next to you, he sips at his drink, avoiding his cut lip.

"Why? have we been here before?"

"Yeah, school field trip. Our classes had the same schedule. This is where we ate lunch, remember now?"

"Oh, shit!" Recognition flashes on your face. "Where we got left behind by the bus!"

"Mm-hmm" He points at you with a mouthful of chips.

"We got left behind because you were too busy snogging what's her face behind a tree to remember the call time"

"No, I wasn't," he shakes his head. "You gotta get your memory checked, love"

"Nuh-uh, I remember it because it was what everyone was talking about"

"We got left behind by the bus because I was lookin' for you" his face turning serious.

"What?"

"I never snogged anyone here" he scoffs, "wankers were stirring up rumours 'bout me again." Hobie scoots closer to you, "I got back to the bus after going to the toilets. I watched your bus get filled up but I never saw you get on. So I came back out to look for you"

You nod, trying to recollect the memory.

He walks you back to that day. "I looked around, asked your classmates. No one saw you. I was starting to panic, thinkin' you got lost in the woods, tempted by a ghoul or somethin'" you snort at his joke. "Found you ten minutes later, crouched on the grass, drawing a fucking flower"

You hide your face in embarrassment, remembering exactly why you hid there. Memory brings you back to that day.

Hobie finally finds you, he feels like he can breathe again. Sitting quietly next to you, his eyes linger on the side of your face. Clutching your sketchbook and pencil in a tight knuckle grip.

You sat there in silence until you forgave yourself for loving him.

"Oh fuck" voice muffled by your hands. "We were stuck here for like three fucking hours because I was such a dramatic bitch!"

"Well, it was a pretty flower" he tries to make you feel better.

"That was not my best moment" you chuckle, "I remember running there because I heard about you kissing someone. Guess I've got a penchant for running away huh?"

"No matter, I'll keep trying to find you whenever you do," you smile sweetly at his words. "Or just catch you before you do"

"You're implying that there's going to be something for me to run away from" you joke, Hobie goes with your bit.

"I don't think there's any more crude rumours of me out there. Think you're good, love." You shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes, cleaning a crumb off his cheek. Hobie gives you a peck on your finger tip as a thank you.

A comfortable silence blankets you both, your mind takes the quiet to its advantage, it goes back to Janet's advice. Mrs. Williams' words echo around you, layered on top of Riley's offer. Heart beating fast, the plastic spoon snaps in half as you grip it too tightly.

Hobie's head turns towards the crunching sound, "you alright? Let me see, you might have splinters"

"I'm okay, just flimsy plastic"

"Here, you can share mine."

"Thanks"

Silence permeates the air once again.

"I need to tell you something" you and Hobie say at the same time.

"Age before beauty" He pokes your side with a chuckle.

You bite your lip, gaze lingering somewhere other than his face. Eyes moving at the gaps of sunlight on the trees. Maybe you shouldn't tell him, you're gonna stay with him anyway, what's the point? You find It painfully difficult.

Because if you did tell him, it would all feel sickenly real. A gut feeling fluttering restlessly, mind predicting the outcome of the conversation.

Hobie notices your apprehensiveness, he calls your name tenderly. Encouraging you to speak your mind.

"Do you remember that bloke back at the fashion show?" Bravery taking over with a shaky voice.

Humming in understanding, Hobie moves his leg over the bench, straddling it to look at you fully.

You fake a smile through it, "well he offered me a job"

"Bloody good on you, love!" He pats your arm, hand staying on it. "Well deserved!"

You smile bashfully at his reaction. "Thanks, but I'm not gonna take it" you bravely look at him, focusing on the slow knit of his brows.

"Why not? 's a good opportunity" his hand slides down your arm, landing on your thigh, unmoving, tethering you to him.

"It's just that– they want me to move to the US for it." Sighing, "so, I'm not taking it" you watch as Hobie's smile fades, the cogs in his head moving rapidly, jaw clenching, wrapping his mind to what you just said.

"Sorry, what was it you're gonna say?" Trying to change the topic, Hobie takes your hand in his.

Heart lodged in his throat, Hobie stays quiet for a minute, for you it seemed like forever. The only sounds are the leaves blowing in the cool air, birds happily chirping as if they're mocking you. Faint traffic beeps from below, it might as well be right next to you with how deafening the silence is. The food you ate sits weirdly in your stomach. You try to even out your breathing as Hobie finally opens his mouth to speak.

"I fell for you right here, did you know that?" He squeezes your hand. You did not expect for him to say that, shaking your head, your heart beats a thousand times per minute.

"You gave me a sandwich– made me one, actually" he continues as you listen on. "Because you know I wouldn't bring my own lunch. You cared for me when no one else did. Then you upped and disappeared that day and–" Hobie releases a shuddering breath. "I just panicked. Then that turned into relief when I finally found you."

Stray tears slide down your cheeks. "As I sat down next to you, realizing that I was panicking because I loved you. And was afraid you were already gone without knowing how much loved you were"

A sob breaks through when you see his watery eyes, something you would've never thought of ever seeing from the strongest person you know and love.

"Hobie–"

"Take it, take the offer" he says woefully.

You shake your head like a child throwing a tantrum. "No, I'm not leaving you," your voice breaking. "I can't"

"You've wanted this since–before you've even met me." Hobie chuckles humorlessly. "I don't want to hold you back" softly, he cups your face in both hands, afraid of what he'll do next. "Do you want it? I won't hold it against you, I want you to fulfill your dreams" even if I'm not a part of it.

You nod your head slowly, answering his question, soft hands holding his trembling ones tightly. "Please, just say the words and I'll stay." You sniff, acting brave. "Please say it!" Balling his shirt in your fists. You hope, wish that he changes his mind. That he would tell you to stay with him. But you know him better, Hobie's a lot of things, selfish isn't one of them.

He stares at your glimmering eyes, watching his own face contort into sorrow. Killing the part of him that wants you to stay.

"You need to go" sobs wracked your body when he utters the words. The ground would've swallowed you whole if not for his hold on you. But it'll be okay if it did as long as you fall with him.

It's love in its most painful form.

His heart breaks for what he's about to do. Hobie takes out his favour card from his pocket, punching out all the remaining logos. You can barely see through your tears while he does it, the card looks bare in his hands. Small circles of logos taken by a gust of wind. He calls your name softly with no malice or resentment in his voice.

Nothing remains on the piece of paper.

You want him to scream and curse at you, make him feel something else instead of sadness. Instead, Hobie hugs you through it, shoulders shaking, hands wrapped around you protectively. Your hands cling to his vest like it's your lifeline.

You hate that you broke his heart after filling it with love.

In between weeping, you mumble 'sorries' love overflowing for each other, cups filling to the bream.

"I'm sorry," you look at him through the tears, cheek on his broad chest, he shakes his head, rocking you slightly in his arms. You feel his racing heartbeat.

"Do you regret this?" Us? You ask tentatively, sniffling. You don't want him to resent you for stringing him along just to leave him right after.

"No, never. I'll do it all over again if I have to.'' He doesn't regret loving you or even confessing, the only thing he grieves over is that it took him too long to do so, he would've had more time with you.

He resents himself.

"I'll wait for you" he blurts out through the tears.

"Please, don't. You don't have to"

"I've waited for you for as long as I could remember and I'll wait for decades more if I have to." He wipes your cheeks, you savour him with every touch. Hobie asks the dreaded question, "when are you leaving?" Whispering it to you so that the world doesn't know. Just you and him on that park bench, bodies in a tight embrace, love pouring out from every pore.

"In two months" you answer with a frown, tears still flowing freely.

"It'll be the best two months of your life then" he captures your lips in a solemn kiss, memorizing every detail, engraving it into his brain.

—

Hobie kept his promise, those two months were the best you've ever had. You and Hobie did everything you've ever wanted together. Moved in with him on that houseboat you've briefly called your home.

Bodies joined together on his sheets you've mended, love and laughter lit up the entire house. With every caress and whispered confessions sends you two reeling over the edge.

Still, your parting looms over your heads. Tears wiped away as soon as they started, reminding you that you won't be truly apart when your very souls have been intertwined since the beginning.

With tearful eyes and sad smiles you part with the love of your life. Promises of late night calls and hand written letters falling on both your lips. Kisses lingering, touch fading as you fly off to your new life.

Hobie takes your photo with him on every patrol, tucked safely inside his leather vest, fingers gliding over the seams you've stitched together.

You look at the polaroid of you and Hobie before bed as you end your call with him, his voice anchoring you. Looking at the moon on your small window brings you comfort that the same one watches over him.

He wakes up alone, sun beaming down on his face, smiling fondly, the thought of the same sun bearing down on you fills the hole in his heart. Reminders of you stays in his home, *your home. Throw pillows on his lumpy couch, your slippers in the bathroom, mug sitting next to his. He leaves it where you last put them, waiting for you.

You endure.

Slowly but surely you grow accustomed to your new life, getting used to the empty space beside you. You meet like minded friends, they help you get out of your shell.

You find yourself, the same one you've lost years ago.

Both of you try to make time for each other even with the time difference and busy schedules. You write letters sprayed with your perfume, a piece of fabric from your newest design is taped inside, words filled with adoration and content. Hobie replies immediately back, with blood stained knuckles he writes quickly. He leaves a dried flower inside the envelope, his letters always ending with the same three words.

After a rough battle, Hobie finds himself recruited to some society full of people with abilities like him. He doesn't seem so lonely anymore. A heavy weight lifted off his shoulders.

You see Spider-Man on TV one day, smiling as the reporter tells the audience that Wilson Fisk is finally out of power thanks to the spandex and leather clad hero. Even with the grainy footage, you recognize Spider-Man's vest.

You dream of each other, dreams getting blurry every night until it's foggy and muddy, turning into a dreamless sleep.

Hobie sees your familiar face, a version of you at least, he doesn't run to her or talk, just watches with a faint smile on his lips. Glad that you're happy in every dimension. He harbours no sadness or even guilt, just love. He'd always miss you but his happiness for you would always win over the emotion.

With each sunrise he wakes up to, satisfaction flowing through him, knowing he chose well. One day he looks next to him without sadness blooming in his chest, just a fond smile under his mask.

He's proud of you and you're proud of him. Sometimes that's enough.

Your love for each other never waned, it stood dormant in your hearts, waiting and yearning for the day you finally reunite.

Until you thread the needle again.

A/N: AHHH!! IT'S FINALLY DONE! From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading, and interacting with my lil story! And thank you for sticking around this long ❤️

Until next time, lovelies (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

(Please read the epilogue when it comes out ily)

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT Story - 25 Months - 2 year appointment

Hyper City; I was getting used to the bizarre place that seemed to appear to those who looked for it, having to come here every half-dozen months to get checked up and making sure I wasn’t mutating or something unexpected had given me ample time to become at least somewhat accustomed to it. Today however, I’d been asked to come in not just for a physical checkup, but also my mental checkup, which normally I did over a video call, so being asked to come to the physical office was weird. 

They had explained that, since I had now completed the two years required to begin shapeshifter hrt, that they needed to talk with me in person regarding some of the steps needed to proceed, as well as other discussions that needed to happen. They hadn’t gone into much detail about what exactly would be needed, just that they needed to be done in person.

It was always nice walking around the city; compared to home there were a lot more people here like me, which had become more and more welcome as the changes became more and more obvious. 

Even early on I had gotten some strange looks - a girl with orange, rippling skin tends to be noticed - but as I got slime-ier and slime-ier the looks were more and more frequent. There were of course people back home (as in not in Hyper City) who were taking the humanity replacement therapy, but certainly none in my proximity, which only made me that much more of an oddity. I did avoid a lot of what could have been though by staying inside, and I mean, most of my friends were online, and those that weren’t also didn’t live locally.

Hyper City however, while I definitely still got that kind of attention, and some places wouldn’t serve us (I didn’t know of any places like that back home, but as I said, I hadn’t been out enough to find them), I could at least see other people like me, and it at least made me feel less alone.

***

It didn’t take long to reach my destination, although it was in a little bit of a different place than I usually had to go to but I found it well enough, and headed inside, where I was basically greeted with what looked like a mix between an office, and a hospital waiting room. I gave over my name and appointment time, and was told to wait to be called.

When I sat down, I was glad to find that the chairs here had a hole in the back that I could put my tail through - an accommodation that I had found lacking in quite a few places, including my own home. Of course, for me, having a tail was completely optional, I had chosen to shape my body like that, but I liked it, it felt comfortable and right, and 99% of the time I was not going to give that up just because society hasn’t adjusted to some people having tails. Wings were a whole ‘nother story all together, but interestingly I frequently found less issue with them, so long as I didn’t spread them out.

Once I had sorted my tail and wings out on the seat, I adjusted my clothes, which had slightly stuck to me in places. While I had been forgoing clothes at home - there’s no real need in private, and they don’t exactly go with my more fluid shape - I still didn’t quite feel comfortable walking around outside completely naked, so I was currently dressed in a waterproofed cropped tank, jacket, and shorts - an outfit I had always liked, so I made sure to buy some new stuff (and modify it a little for tails and wings) for my new size and makeup. Haven’t bothered with shoes in months since I made my feet into talons, since no-one really makes shoes for them, and I don’t really need ‘em.

While I waited I took a moment to think back on the last couple of years. Overall, it had been wonderful, seeing myself slowly change, and slowly finding myself even more in love with my body than estrogen had managed (no shade there, turns out i just needed more/something other than what it could do for me). It had taken a while, but I loved where I was at now, and as I thought this I flourished my arm, its shape bubbling and twisting, not really taking on a specific form, I was simply moving its shape as one might move a finger. It gave me a nice warm feeling in my core as I did so.

As my thoughts turned to my core, I actually shifted it to my hand, idly rolling the rough sphere around in my hand as I looked at it. I’d started doing this recently, basically using my core as a fidget toy, as potentially ill-advised as that could be, but its almost cratered surface had a nice texture, so was nice to hold. I did have to remind myself not to throw it around - I didn't want my body to deform accidentally, especially not in public, and I wasn’t sure how durable my core was, and I didn’t want to find out by dropping it. It did feel hard though, and very solid, and somewhat crystalline. Not really knowing any other slimes at this point in their transition, I had no-one to compare to to know if my core was normal or not - I assumed the crystallinity of the core was normal, that seemed like a reasonable thing, but the ‘cratering’ across it was something I wasn’t certain about, and it worried me slightly, despite my attempts to not let it get to me.

I was ripped from my thoughts upon hearing my name called out from over by the reception, and I raised a hand and nodded in response, getting up to walk over to them, as they directed me towards my appointment.

I knocked on the door, which only had ‘6C’ stuck on it, and heard a woman call me in from the other side. I opened the door and stepped through, only to be met with a sphinx. Yes, a sphinx, sitting, much like the statue, behind the desk in front of me. I also noticed that the room was, naturally, quite tall, presumably to allow her locomotion around it, and I spied a larger double door in the back of the room that looked like it might just fit her. 

“You must be Sandy, am I correct?” She asked, her voice somewhat loud but soft, and as such did not offend my ears “Please, take a seat,” She said, nodding to the chair on the other side of the desk. 

I sat down as instructed, noting that I was surprisingly at eye level. I was unsure whether that was something a lot of fictional depictions got wrong, or whether she was earlier in her transition that made her smaller (assuming that she was transitioning, Hyper City seemed home to more than just humans or those transitioning…). Regardless, once I was seated, I finally replied to her question “Uh, yeah, I’m Sandy,”

“Good,” She said simply “I’m Jania, nice to meet you,”

“Uh, nice to meet you too.” I was finding that despite her not being that much higher up than me at the moment, her overall presence in the room was noticeably greater

“I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t shake your paw- hand- claw?” She jumped between the words, clearly not sure which to use, and I noticed her looking at my appendage

“I guess claw? That’s what it’s shaped like, alternatively limb or pseudopod, but I think claw works fine,” I told her

“Yes, that,” She said “Anyway, I understand you’re here for your regular check-in, as well as a discussion of your next steps,” I nodded “Good. So, how are you doing today?”

I took a moment to think before responding “Generally I’m good, and transition wise too, despite the last couple of months being a little…. well, being a lot honestly. But, I’m out the other side and all the better for it,” I stretched out my arms, sending a ripple along them “All good and gooey now,”

“Yes, I read the diary entry you submitted, what you’ve been through sounds unpleasant to say the least,” Jania said “How are your memories?”

“Fuzzy from around that time, but since then fine,” I told her candidly “As for before then it’s hard to know what I’ve lost due to the transition and what’s just my bad memory,” I added “But I feel fine, and as I said, forming new memories seems to be normal so far, so it was just a very unpleasant side effect of having the very nature of my neurological centre transformed,”

“Well I’m glad to hear that you feel fine, although I might slate you for some examination on your memory, just to make sure,” She replied. I frowned, not really seeing the necessity, but nodded, worst case it would set my mind at ease. “I assume, based on what you’ve said so far, that you are pleased with the progress you’ve achieved?”

I nodded again “As I’ve said before, I wish it hadn’t all taken so long/happened faster, but that’s just ‘cause i’m impatient, can’t complain with the end result,” I said with a grin “Although maybe it’s a good thing, the last few months happening any faster might have seriously fucked me - actually I did see some rumours and stuff about a 15 minute version of this stuff, but it sounded… shady at best,” I told her

“Yes, we’re aware of that, and we highly recommend avoiding it, it is incredibly dangerous and life threatening,” Her tone had suddenly grown very serious

I raised my hands defensively “That was kinda the vibe I got, and anyways, I’m already here, no need for me to take it now,” I told her

“Good,” She replied “Now, before we move on to next steps there is something else we’d like to ask,” She began “Obviously you have been very diligent about keeping the requested updates about your transition, however, while you seemed to cover the major events, there is certain things notably missing, such as the clusters of chloroplasts I can see in your body,” She remarked 

My ears perked up a little at that “So they are chloroplasts? I wasn’t certain, since I’m a sap slime, and I didn’t think sap normally had chloroplasts, so I wasn’t sure, but they seemed harmless and so I didn’t worry about it - plus they look neat,” I explained excitedly “Would explain why sunny days have felt so good recently… do you think my core is the same?”

“Oh, had you not been told about that? Yes, apparently during one of your checkups they were tested and identified to be chloroplasts, meaning that you are capable of photosynthesizing,” She informed me, and I immediately felt my tail wagging behind me

“That’s awesome, that was something I was really hoping would happen, even if I wasn’t sure it would!” I relayed to her “I wonder how much of my energy it would provide…?”

Jania quickly looked something up, and I noted that she had a super-sized keyboard just in front of her paws. “Unfortunately without a drastic increase in surface area, you are unlikely to experience a significant effect on you energy levels, although you may experience a slight improvement in your energy and mood on sunny days, which it sounds like you already have,” She told me

I frowned, before taking a moment to think, spreading my wings out “Would these help increase my surface area?” I enquired 

It was Jania’s turn to look thoughtful, taking a moment herself before responding “I can’t say for certain, but based on the information I have, it logically should,” She offered “Although I would not advise skipping meals to rely on the sun,” She said “The main reason it does not supply you entire energy needs is that you are significantly more active than any other plant…based entity,” I felt a small welling of euphoria at that, despite my disappointment at being unable to rely solely on the sun for nourishment, being called a plant, or plant-based entity, was nice.

“Don’t worry, I like food too much to stop eating, but I would be a neat option,” I remarked

“Good to hear,” Jania told me “With that clarified, I will return to my original point - you appear to have missed several of the changes in your reports, and we would appreciate it if you could try to write a supplemental on any changes, as well as any other pertinent details, that you missed in your prior entries,” She asked “As you know, while we are confident in the safety of the medication we provide, there is still a lot of unknowns, and we would like to collect as much information as we can on the experiences of those transitioning, so please add any information that might be helpful to others who come after you, as well as anything else that you may want to add in regards to your transition,”

I nodded, feeling a little like I’d been scolded for handing in sub-par homework, but I understood why they wanted a thorough report, and she wasn’t wrong, there had been some things I’d missed, or been unsure where to put in, so this would be a great time to add all of those to the reports “I’ll make sure to do that asap,” I assured her

Jania nodded, tapping a little on her computer “Right, so with that out of the way, we have a couple more thing to address,” She began “Firstly: you have reached the two year mark on your transition to a slime, which also means it’s time for us to discuss the crossroads,” My face fell a little.

I’d seen others talk about the crossroads, but I honestly wasn’t really sure what  actually happened, all I knew was that it was the point that you left behind any chance of being human again, and fully set out to become the animal or creature you were transitioning into. I nodded

“You may or may not know, but the crossroads is the point at which your changes will make you, what is known as ‘feral’, making you less human in both body and mind.” She told me

“I’m not exactly sure I’d call my body any amount of human at this point,” I said

“You’re still in a humanoid form,” She pointed out 

“By choice and for ease, the world is kinda build for humanoids, as I’m sure you’re aware of,” I replied  “I’m pretty sure I said in my reports that I had been using a ‘slime ball form’-” As I said that, I shifted some slime in my hand into a miniature version of said form “And I mean,” I gestured with my claws and tail, spreading my wings slightly “It’s not like I’m particularly precious about the human part of the ‘humanoid’”

Jania nodded “That is fair I suppose, and you are correct, I have become increasingly aware of the… accessibility of human society to those of us outside of it,” She remarked “Although I must ask - surely you can just make yourself more humanoid to navigate their world more easily?”

“I spent 20 odd years as a human, I’m taking the first chance I can get off that train,” I replied “Plus, it feels right to have what I’ve made for myself, why should I have to shift that away just ‘cause humans haven’t adapted? Maybe seeing people struggle with it will get them to do something about it!” I added “I mean, it probably won’t unless we make a fuss about it, but,” I muttered

The sphinx paused for a second before replying “That is understandable, and commendable if I am honest, I’m sure others in a similar situation might opt to adjust themselves,” She remarked

“Eh, I’m already a blob of bright orange goo, I stand out enough as is,” I replied

“That is also true, I suppose,” She tapped on her computer a little bit before continuing “Regardless, beyond this point you will experience little physical changes - for slimes the difference before and after the crossroads physically is fairly limited, due to their relatively simple biology,” I took offence at her calling our biology ‘simple’ but I had to concede (after a wave of euphoria at realising how easily I had thought ‘our biology’) that we didn’t have the most complex biology, and to be fair to her, she seemed to be reading off the computer, so I assumed they weren’t her words. 

“The only other potential physical change is that of lifespan… however there is little data on how long a slime naturally lives, so we wouldn’t be able to tell you whether you would have an increased or decreased lifespan,” She informed me

“Yeah, there’s not a lot of literature/media that has slimes die by natural causes…” I said, getting an uncomfortable feeling inside myself “Most games use us as low level cannon fodder,” I added with a frown

“....yes, exactly, so if you were to go ahead with going beyond the crossroads, we would ask that you sign additional waivers and the like, so as to make it clear that you are making the decision to potentially shorten your lifespan in full knowledge that that is what you are doing,” I nodded, they had to cover their asses legally, that made sense, although the idea of shortening my lifespan kind of scared me

“The other changes are purely mental. Generally, going beyond the crossroads leads to distancing from your current behaviours, thoughts, and potentially even memories as your mind becomes more like that of your natural species. Before that, as a slime, you would experience a degradation in intelligence, and likely strengthening in your predatory instincts,”

I nodded to convey my understanding, worried and concerned about what I was hearing - I didn’t want to lose myself, even as much as I loved being a slime “And, uh, what happens if I don’t go beyond the crossroads, how does that work - I haven’t seen a lot of people talk about that?” I asked, a little sheepishly

I swear Jania almost looked relieved when I finished my question, which made me frown a little, but I decided to ignore it “If you didn’t wish to go beyond the crossroads, then you would be put onto a lowered dose for a few months, to see if your body is producing all the right chemicals, and once we were certain of that, you would eventually stop taking the medication all together, and live as you are now,” She explained

I nodded, my mind racing with the options I had - I liked where I was, I had everything I wanted out of my slime transition, and what I could lose past the crossroads sounded terrifying. Naturally, with that in mind, it seemed like an obvious choice, but a part of me was asking ‘but if you stop now, are you even a real slime?’ and despite all the logical points I could make against that, it didn’t stop the feeling from gnawing at me

“You don’t have to answer right away, and actually, you will have plenty of time to decide, assuming you still plan to go ahead with the shapeshifter treatment,” She told me

I gave her a quizzical look “Yes, I do, but what do you mean?”

“Well, due to the relatively ‘volatile’ nature of the shapeshifter treatment, not that is at all dangerous, we prefer patients to not be undergoing large scale mental strain and stress while taking the additional treatment,” Jania explained “So we would put you on the maintenance dose, as if you had chosen to not proceed with the crossroads. Then a few months after that, once the additional treatment had began to take hold, you would need to make the decision about the crossroads, so we could stop your dose or return it to full strength depending on your decision,” I nodded “That sounds good, I hadn’t realised how little I was ready to make the decision about the crossroads,” I told her

“It’s a big decision, and one we wouldn’t want anyone taking lightly, so you can take your time,” She told me “Up to a point, there is unfortunately a limit before even the maintenance dose begins to push you past the crossroads,” I nodded again, not sure what else to say “With that talked about, we need to move onto discussion about you starting shapeshifter hrt, you did say you still intend to take the treatment, yes?”

I nodded “Very much so, definitely still wanting that,” I replied 

“Good, I have to make sure of course,” Jania said, tapping a few times on her computer, before turning it to me - her paws large against the mostly normal sized screen - showing a list, with a title at the top ‘Types of Shapeshifter’ “As you can see here,” She began “there are various types of shapeshifter and before we proceed any further, we need you to pick what specific kind of shapeshifter you want to become,”

I glanced over the list, noting that it started at those with more limited transformative abilities, such as werewolves, to mimics (and the several subcategories of that), to those that adapted to their environment. However, I quickly skimmed past all of these - I knew all about the types of shapeshifters, this had been what I had originally come to them to become after all, so I’d researched this years before - and jumped right to the end “That one!” I declared, pointing, probably a little too excitedly at the option at the bottom “A polymorph shapeshifter!”

I saw Jania smile a little “That is what I expected, given your choice of base,” She remarked, gesturing to my gelatinous body, causing me to chuckle a little bashfully “So a polymorph it is then, just to make sure, you understand that a polymorph can alter themselves to be almost anything, so long as they can imagine it,” She asked, I nodded - of course I understood, this is what I’d wanted the whole time  “Ok then, with that decision clearly made,” she spun the screen back around and tapped a little more as she continued to talk “first things first we need you to sign the consent forms, and then we can get a prescription sorted out once you have had your checkup today, assuming that there are no problems there,” She explained “And then we will have to get you your shapeshifter licence,”

I gave her a quizzical look “Shapeshifter licence?” I enquired 

“Right, yes, to be legally able to use your shapeshifting abilities in Hyper City, you must register as a shapeshifter, and carry identification detailing the nature of your form of shapeshifting,” She explained

I frowned a little, I wasn’t sure how I felt about having to be registered somewhere just ‘cause I was a shapeshifter - but then at the same time, it was an easy ability to abuse, so I can understand people wanting to keep an eye on us “How am I supposed to fill in a form like that if I’m only going to be partially able to transform for a while?” I asked, thinking back to how my shaping had been early on in my transition to a slime “Like I’m not going to be able to turn into godzilla day one,” I pointed out

“Don’t worry, we have provisional licences, which have details about your target level of shapeshifting, but are clear that you may not have reached that point yet yourself. When you come in for your checkups, we can update the current details on the system and your ID,” She explained “We have some ready for those who are going to become shapeshifters, but we can only give it to you once you have been cleared by a doctor after your physical,” 

“Ok, that makes sense,” I replied “What will I do if I develop something and my ID is not up to date?” I asked - I really didn’t want to deal with whatever magical cops this city had

“Assuming you don’t cause any harm to any people or property, or anything else otherwise illegal, the provisional nature of the licence will at least explain why your abilities aren’t completely correctly documented yet,”

“Ok, goo-d,” I tripped a little on the word, feeling myself blush a little, I had been trying to use more ‘slimeisms’ but hadn’t expected one to slip out here “ I, uh, would rather not get arrested just ‘cause I happened to get a new shift and it’s not noted down,”

“Don’t worry, we’ve liaised with the authorities to work this out,” Jania explained “Wouldn’t be good if those under our care were constantly being arrested,” She pointed out

“No, I would imagine not,” I remarked

“Do you have any more questions?” The sphinx asked

“Not that I can think of, but I’m sure they’ll crop up later,” I said with a half-smile and a chuckle

“If you do think of any later you can send any questions you think of later via the website,” She told me “With those important things out of the way, not that this is any less important, how are you coping with being a slime out in the world of humans?” She asked 

I blinked a couple of times before replying “Fine, I guess, I’m not the most outdoorsy person, most o’ my friends are online, so I tend to stay inside most of the time,” I said “But it has been pretty neat just being able to exist in the real world as the slime I am,” I added

“Have you had any issues with people? Many people don’t take kindly to those different than you, and you did say you’re a blob of bright orange goo that stands out enough already,”

I paused to think for a moment “I’ve had a couple of in person issues, and a couple places have refused to let me in, but there’s assholes everywhere, I just ignore them/don’t go there again, it’s like blocking people online,” I told her, glad that my throat no longer got tight talking about these things (mainly ‘cause i don’t have a throat anymore), but I could still feel my tone fall a bit as I thought about the incidents “It sucks that people can’t just live and let live, but I don’t need to burn myself out fighting every asshole who calls me something shit,” I said, noting the clear sadness in my voice “It doesn’t not affect me, I feel the same way about trans stuff, which I never got shit for irl myself, but you see and hear people hating you just for existing, and you can try to ignore it, but it does get to you, even a bit…” I said “So, I’m fine, for all practical purposes, it’s not like I’ve been stabbed or anything for being myself, just sad that I and people like me have to suffer ‘cause people can’t mind their own damn business,” The word damn echoed with a little more anger than I had meant to let out

Jania just nodded, and typed a little, and while I was sure she wasn’t putting anything major down, it did unnerve me a little. Once she had finished, she looked back up at me “Well, with that then, assuming you still have no more questions,” I shook my head “good, then I will let you get on with your physical evaluation, and hopefully start your new medication,” She announced “If you are fit to begin, the doctor there should also provide you with the application for the provisional shapeshifter licence,” She added “Now, I’m sure you’ll forgive me again if I don’t shake your claw,” She gave a small wink “And I hope you have a lovely rest of your day,” She said, giving me a small nod of her head

I stood up, shaking off the emotions from before, and waved “Thank you, and same to you, hope you have a good rest of your day,” I said, making my way over to the door and leaving.

***

I arrived at the clinic for my physical (annoyingly they were in different buildings, but fortunately it was only a quick trip) and after waiting for a little was directed to Dr. Othek’s office

“Hello Miss Sandy, is it that time again already?” He asked, greeting me with a smile as he always did

“Yes, I’m back again,” I said, taking a seat opposite him as he finished typing some things

“This is a big appointment for you though, if you’re all fine here, you can start on.. polymorph hrt was it?” He double checked 

“Yeah, so I’m hoping this goes well,” I replied

“There should hopefully be no reason for you to have any problems, so this should be a breeze,” He told me “We may as well get started then,” I nodded “First test, as usual, I need to take a sample of your slime, if you don’t mind,” He asked, holding out a test tube

“Of course,” I said with a nod, holding my finger over the tube, focusing a little to make the tip slowly drip into the tube below “That enough?” I asked

“That should be plenty,” The doctor replied, topping off the sample, and placing it into a machine to analyse it (since I had first started coming here, the facilities had improved immensely) “I’m still a little surprised that that doesn’t hurt you,” He remarked

“I mean, it’s just a part of me dropping off, not sure why that would hurt?” I replied, before catching a look from him and realising what I’d said “Oh, right yeah, I just get kinda used to it, there’s still plenty of me, so no reason to cry over a little lost, I keep plenty of spare in here,” I told him, tapping my slime near my core “Mass may be important to us slimes, be we can lose a lot before it hurts us,” I said proudly

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be surprised really, you’re not human, you’re not going to have the same response as we do,” He said, and I felt my core glow with euphoria 

“I mean, I still remember being human, or what it was like to be human/have a human body, so I guess I should kinda foresee stuff like that being weird for y’all to hear,” I conceded “Kinda forget just a little as my body has changed more, this is just how it should be to me,” I offered

“It makes some sense, you are already what you are becoming, so it makes sense that you would adapt quickly, and stop thinking in human terms,” He replied “Can you show me how your shaping is going?” I opened my mouth to remark something, but he interrupted with “I know you brought this up last time with the wings and tail you made for yourself, but I still need a live check, not to mention now that you’ve had those for a while they’re in your shape memory, rather than a demonstration of your shaping,”

I rolled my eyes and smiled, the doctor had pre-empted my words “Fair enough, it’s not like I mind showing off my shifting,” I said holding up a claw, and shifting it so it grew larger and sharper, until my claw was about the size of the doctor’s torso. He nodded and took some notes

“Now something else, please,” He asked. I nodded, thinking for a second, before returning my claw to normal, before another pair of arms grew out of my torso, and I gave the doctor 4 thumbs up

“Oooh, this actually feels really cool, I might keep this,” I remarked, moving all four arms in synchronicity, as well as trying out a few motions with each independently of the others. I saw the doctor smile, and I quickly put all my arms down at my sides “Sorry,” I said with an awkward chuckle

“No, no, by all means,” Dr Othek said, with a wave of encouragement

“No, it’s fine, I’ll do it later,” I replied a little shyly

“If that’s what you want, then next can you do something with your legs?” He asked, gesturing to said limbs

I looked thoughtful for a moment, before I worked out what I was going to do “Made a friend who’s got this,” I remarked, before focusing for a moment, my legs fusing and growing longer, my tail similarly merging with them. It always felt interesting, the senses of separate limbs merging into one (even if that sense of separation was less prominent as a slime than as a human), and losing my legs did make me a little unsteady, fortunately the doctor helped to hold me up as the transformation continued. Unfortunately I had forgotten to account for my clothes, and my shorts got swallowed up by my merging body, and I had to take a second to pull them out and toss them aside. Slowly my lower body elongated into a long shape that slowly tapered to a dull point “Ta-whoa-daa!” I announced, wobbling a little as I got used to my new support

“So you’ve been talking to a lamia or two have you then?” The doctor observed with a small smile

“Yesssss” I said, a forked tongue flicking out of my mouth as I elongated the consonant, as I had seen the lamia in question do herself 

“Glad to hear you’re making like-minded friends out there,” He remarked “Lastly, can I ask you to transform your entire body?”

I blinked a little at this request, even though I had been half expecting it - he’d asked for this last time too - but it still caught me off guard. My eyes darted to the curtain around the bed that was in the room “Uh, mind if I go behind that to change out of the rest of my clothes, don’t want to damage them, was lucky with my shorts,” I said, realising that apparently now my brain was deciding to get awkward about my lack of lowerwear, despite my current shape

Dr. Othek’s eyes widened a little, before he smiled in understanding “Oh, of course, by all means,” He said warmly, gesturing over to the bed

I wandered over, glad for the spacious area, given my now extra long body/tail (I guessed he had many larger patients) and pulled the curtain around. Once sure I was shielded, I began to take my clothes off, which was actually pretty quick nowadays given I could just shrink my limbs away, and then slip up and through the clothes. This time in particular, as I shifted my body up and through the clothes, I had my whole body contract and condense, until out of the top of my clothes I sprang as a small blob-ball of slime, landing myself on the bed that was nearby.

I reached out some pseudopod tendrils and picked up my clothes and put them on the bed beside me, while another pair pulled the curtain aside so the doctor could see the transformation.

“Oh now don’t you look adorable,” He remarked taking a step closer, and I immediately felt myself blush and look away from him, my tendrils either freezing what they were doing or rushing to cover my face (not that the thin extensions of slime were very effective at that), which he fortunately picked up on quickly “Sorry, that was unprofessional of me, it is a very impressive transformation though,” He said

I took a second to recover after the surprise remark from the doctor, but I began to feel the slime in my ‘cheeks’ return to normal, and I pulled all my tendrils back close to myself “It’s pretty simple if I have to be honest, just pull everything in and ball,” I said, giving the closest thing I could to a shrug with the four tendrils I had currently, suddenly aware for the second time today that I was now much smaller than the other person

“I obviously can’t speak to ease of this, but if you say that this is easy, then would you care to demonstrate something more complex?” He asked “Although I do want to remark on the expert use of your….” He trailed off, gesturing to my limbs

“Tendrils, pseudopods, tentacles I ‘spose wouldn’t be inaccurate either,” I offered

“... pseudopods then, I didn’t expect you to be so dextrous with them already,” He finished

“I mean, they’re just another limb, they’re like an arm,” I said, shifting one into a small arm as I said that “And I’ve been able to make them for a while, guess I just never showed you before,” I told him

“I suppose they would be..” the doctor conceded, a thoughtful look on his face “As you may have noticed, while I am familiar with the medical limits and boundaries, the actual details of the transition aren’t particularly known to me, so you’ll have to forgive my ignorance,” He said

“They’ve got me writing a journal to keep track of everything, details a lot of my transition, I don’t know if you can ask for access to the file or whatever, but that might help fill in the details?” I offered

“Oh they have, have they? I only receive requests to check if things you have ‘reported’ are nominal, a complete journal would be extremely helpful,” He remarked “I don’t know if they will send it to me, so you can contact me here,” He handed me a something like a business card, which I took in a tendril and quickly put with my clothes, “and I would appreciate seeing your journal - knowing what my patients are going through in between sessions would be extremely helpful - assuming you are willing to share it with me,” He asked

I nodded (which is a lot more involved when you are a single round ball) “Sure, I’m kind of surprised they hadn’t already sent it to you anyways,” I told him 

“That’d be much appreciated miss slime,” He said with a nod “Right, we should continue with your examination - a more complex full body transformation, if you would Sandy?” He repeated

I nodded again and thought for a second, before raising a tendril as an idea struck. I took a quick glance around the room, confirming that it was big enough “You may want to stand quite far back,” I told him, hopping down from the bed and making my way to the middle of the room “I’ve only tried this once before - don’t really have the room at home - so this may not be perfect, but it’s definitely complicated,”

I noted the doctor giving me a curious look, before acquiescing and moving to a corner of the room. I took another look around, hoping that my current smaller size wasn’t affecting my mental measurement of the room. I went to take a breath, before remembering that I couldn’t do that now, which left me floundering a little on what to replace it with (I really need to work that out) But nonetheless I turned my attention to the task at hand.

First I focused on some key things, namely legs - four of them to be precise - each one growing out of the base of my small, round form, propping me up like some weird cartoon character. The legs themselves were reptilian in appearance, sans texture as I was limited only to slime, but once they reached what felt like the right length and shape I stopped, focusing on the next part. With a solid base, I began to stretch my body out, elongating it, making sure my weight was spread evenly across each of my new legs. At the same time as doing this, I pushed out a tail, glad for the restoration of that limb, making sure it was the right length, relative to my current size, topping it off with the fin I had come to love at the end of it.

With those all sorted, next I focused on my face, pushing it out as well and forwards, extending not only into a muzzled front, but a fairly long neck behind it. On my head, I also made sure to include a pair of horns, which were also a comfort to have back. Although they were superfluous, I also added sharp (well, teeth all along the inside of my mouth, because let's be honest, they’re awesome, licking them with the long forked tongue I had given myself. The only bit that was particularly weird for me was my eyes moving to the sides of my head, may as well go the full mile here, but adjusting to the different style of vision was always a little weird.

Next on the agenda was wings, both of which I forged from my back, pushing out until they, like my tail, were back to the correct size. I gave them an experimental flap to double check I’d gotten everything right, loving the feeling of their motion.

With all the core bits shaped, there was only one last thing to do: get BIG. I looked up at the doctor, not wanting to cause him any harm, before I began to push my body outwards in all directions, feeling myself grow bigger, the floor quickly receding from me. Once the ceiling began to get close to my head, I slowed down, stopping where I could still move fairly comfortably - albeit carefully - around the room. 

All in all the transformation had taken me not long at all, although I quickly touched up some details I had missed before I spoke.

“Ta daaa,” I said, bellowing more than I had meant to, not realising how the transformation had messed with my sound production “Ahem, I mean - ta daaa,” I said, in a voice much closer to my normal one, although I did keep a bit of a bellow, it just fit with my new shape

“And here I thought I was treating a slime, not a dragon,” Dr. Othek quipped, sending an unexpected burst of euphoria through my body “You know they do medication for this on its own,” He joked. I watched as he made his way towards me, finding the ‘above’ view of the doctor new and interesting, given I’d always had to look up to the man yet now I was somewhere in the realm of double his height, it was definitely a novel experience.

“You are definitely still slime-y though,” He remarked 

“Yes well, I can’t change my material makeup yet,” I replied “That’s why I want the shapeshifter/polymorph hrt, gotta get some scales on this bitch,” I said, still a little unused to the changes I had made to my voice as part of this form

“Why did you not just take dragon hrt?” He asked, and even though he meant it with no malice or judgement it still hurt a little - I didn’t think I’d still be answering this kind of question two years after starting down this path

I sat down, a little more heavily than I meant to - I wasn’t used to being this large - but fortunately without breaking anything “Honestly, I almost did, but slime called to me more, felt like it would get me closer to the fluidity that I truly wanted, ultimately it just felt more right,” I told him “End goal is to vibe around as a chimaera of all my fave parts of whatever, when I’m not intentionally shapeshifting into other things, so really the base was just what seemed goo-d for a couple years, and that’s what slime was - don’t get me wrong, I love being a slime, still think it’s more fitting, than dragon, for the creature I am - but I’m a shapeshifter at heart, or well, core, I guess?” I finished with a small chuckle, which reverberated around the room a little

The doctor nodded, having been slowly walking around me as I had been talking, presumably inspecting my form “How did you get so large?” He asked, and I felt a little miffed he was just moving on from what I had just said, but I wasn’t going to bring that up

“I just did? Pushed my slime out into my body and got big,” I told him

“Where did the slime come from?” He said “You were a small ball of slime, and even accounting for the fact that your prior forms were larger, they did not hold enough slime for this,” He elaborated

“Oh, that - I think my core stores excess slime? Like how humans store excess sugars as fat,” I replied “Not quite sure how it does it, since I don’t seem to get notably heavier unless I eat a tonne, but yeah,” I added “So I made sure to have a good amount of mass spare at all times, to facilitate shaping better,” I explained “That was an expensive purchase though,”

“Interesting, can you come back down please?” He asked, so I moved, bringing my head level with his, the size difference between even just our heads quite noticeable “I meant, as a… as a humanoid,” He clarified

I frowned a little, I had been quite enjoying being a big ol’ dragon for a bit, but I acquiesced, and began shrinking myself back down to my ‘default’ form, all my draconic features slowly vanishing back into more humanoid ones, although I retained the horns, tail, wings, and claws, and both sets of my ears shaped back into existence, along with my talons at the ends of my legs. Once I was all back to ‘normal’ I turned around and looked up at the doctor “Better?” I asked, a little more venomously than I had meant to, or he deserved, but he had slightly ticked me off.

“...Yes, I apologise if you wanted to remain in that form for longer,” He said, clearly a little surprised at my anger “But it is easier to communicate while we’re both closer in size,” He said. I didn’t reply - it was unfair, he had otherwise been really nice and accepting, but he had managed to push a button even I wasn’t fully aware had existed, and I needed a second to cool off.

“Would you like to put your clothes back on?” He asked, and I suddenly noticed he had been looking away

I blushed a little “Oh shit, uh, right,” I said, quickly hurrying back behind the curtain

“Don’t forget your shorts!” Dr. Othek called out, and I shot an extended arm out to grab them. After a moment, I came back out from behind the curtain, my outfit put on, and my anger and blush having both resided

“Sorry about that,” I apologised

“Don’t be, honestly I am not sure about non-human sensibilities regarding clothes, so I leave it up to the patient,” He explained “Within reason of course,” He added

I nodded “Uh, so what’s the next test?”

“I need to look at your core, would it be ok?” He asked

I gave him a quizzical look, my hand moving to my mid-torso “Why?” I asked

“It is, well, the core of you, it is kind of a vital part of a physical examination,” He explained

“Right, yeah, of course,” I replied “Can you do the examination without touching it?” I asked

“Now it’s my turn to ask why?” the doctor threw back

“It’s basically my vital organ, and it’s very sensitive, I’d rather as few people handled it as possible, even medical professionals,” I explained sincerely

Dr. Othek looked thoughtful for a second, before nodding, “That should be doable,” He replied “Would you please remove your core from your body, so I can examine it more easily?”

I nodded, moving my core to my hand, holding it open with the small green rock that was, for all intents and purposes, me in my palm. The doctor leaned on close, some kind of magnifying lens over his eye, examining my core. It felt a little weird to be both studied so intensely, and yet to almost be ignored.

“Well, everything looks fine,” Dr. Othek said after a moment, standing back up and taking the lens off

“So the cratering on it is normal?” I asked, tail wagging hopefully behind me

“I can’t honestly say, but, if it seems to be causing you no issues, then we can assume you are healthy,”

“You can’t say?”

“Slimes are- were fictional creatures before now, the scientific data on you is limited,” The doctor explained “All we will have to go off is what you and other slimes develop and seem to be healthy with,” He added

“I guess that makes sense, was hoping for something more concrete though,” I replied

“All of these animal hrt treatments are groundbreaking science, and you have all been the first few to jump on it, the information just isn’t there for you all quite yet,” I nodded in understanding “One last thing - what would you say is the consistency of your core?” He asked “Is it soft, or hard, or any other applicable consistency?”

“Oh, uh, hard, definitely, it’s kinda like a rock?” I explained

“That’s good,” He said with a nod, sitting back down and filling in some forms on his computer “Well, that was the last of the tests, so if you just sit down again, I’ll fill everything in and we can finish up soon,” He told me. I put my core safely back inside me and we sat in silence for a moment while he finished filling in all my details, occasionally writing on a piece of paper on his desk. Eventually he pressed a final few buttons and I heard the printer on his desk kick into action, and he spoke again.

“So, all of your tests seem good, and I have to say, as far as we can tell, you are particularly exceptional at shaping,” He said finally, his words bringing warmth to my core and making my tail wag happily “As such,” He started again, pulling a piece of paper from the printer, and placing it in front of me with a pen, as well as a small plastic card “You just need to fill out this informed consent form for your polymorph supplement and you then take this prescription - he put the piece of paper he had been writing on on his desk just above the form - to the pharmacy to get your first dose,”

I looked at the papers he’d just put down, before looking up at him “Wait, today?” I asked, shocked

“Yeah, all of your tests are healthy as I said, there’s no reason you can’t,” He told me “Just gotta read all the information and sign your life away - joking, of course,” 

I nodded, my tail wagging ecstatically behind me as I read through the informed consent form, noting the usual ‘warnings’ - ‘loss of inherent/implicit shape’ etc. - that were more often features than issues, eventually reaching the end where I signed my name, struggling to stop myself grinning. 

With that done I turned my attention to the provisional shapeshifting licence, my shapeshifting licence - even if it was a dumb bureaucratic thing, it still made me happy to have - and looked at what was on it. I noted immediately that Dr. Othek had filled it in already for me, which left me to decipher all the little scribbles on it

Most of it was self explanatory, but I did look up to the doctor to ask him a question “What do the X’s mean?” I asked “I can tell the ‘Y’ and ‘N’ are yes and no, but I’m not sure what the X’s are - or actually what exactly the Y’s in brackets are for?”

“Ah, yes, the X’s indicate a ‘not applicable’, since you are unable to truly shapeshift yet-” Even though I knew it was true, it still hurt to hear that said aloud- “Those categories cannot be accurately answered yet,” He explained “The bracketed Y’s indicate what you will be able to do, once you have completed your treatment, and those give people an idea of what to expect if you have any developments in between updates to your licence,” He finished

I nodded, that all at least made sense. I looked back at the piece of plastic in my hand - this was the one thing I had at this moment that said I was a shapeshifter, that said what I truly was, if I still could I probably would have teared up “Thanks,” I eked out instead, my voice trembling a little with my happiness, and I was glad the emotion hadn’t set off my tail

“I’m just doing my job,” Dr. Othek replied with a soft smile “But you’re welcome,” He added “You should get going and get your prescription, may as well start as soon as you can,” He encouraged

I nodded, picking up the prescription and tucking my new ID into my pocket for now, before heading out of his office and towards the pharmacy - letting out a small whoop of happiness once I was outside, unable to contain my joy any longer.

***

I eventually got home, new medication in claw, and slid out of my clothes in a deluge of slime, leaping into the chair and reforming once I hit it, placing the medication before me on my desk. There were two more this time, in addition to my now lowered dose of my slime hrt, the first one’s purpose clear in its name: ‘Varimorphisone’ - that was the one that would actually let me properly shapeshift. The other had been both unexpected and less clear on its purpose, ‘Physodrone’. The only information I could find was that it was a required medicine alongside Varimorphisone, acting as some kind of stabiliser for it. Regardless, if this was what I needed to finally make myself a polymorph, then that’s what I’d do! 

“Shapeshifting, here I come!” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- So, slime hrt is over! Thanks for joining me on this gooey journey :D, it was a big ol' finale, but I had fun writing this. I say it's over, but I do have plans for some side stories (most of which do take place after the 24 month mark, but we'll see what falls out of my core) which will be slime oriented, so we're not quite done with the goo yet! Not to mention the supplimental part that was requested in the story, so plenty of goo times yet to come! Also, I am not done with this story, as you might've guessed from the text, next up is polymorph/shapeshifter hrt! Also, for those who want it here is a blank version of the ID i made, both provisional and complete. If ya do use 'em it'd be nice if you could credit me (although the idea of the shapeshifting licence ofc belongs to @darkmagenugget/@nuggetofthesea)

And for those wondering about how to fill it in, I did make a rough guide while working out how it was gonna work here, which includes the options for sources (what allows you to shapeshift), and a link to a doc that I worked on listing the various types of shapeshifter. If your D.O.B is weird, e.g. from before 0 AD, just slap a BCE on the end of the D.O.B (for anything more eccentric, you'll have to work it out yourself) Thanks to those who helped with easing my worries about some passages of this, and checking over the licence design, and my partner @kanithedemoncat for doing a grammar and spell check for me before I posted another one with various mistakes that they find after the fact But yeah, hopefully you've all enjoyed slime hrt so far, and I hope you'll enjoy whats to come!

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

First - Prev - Next Side Story 1 - Monster Tag list under cut (lmk if ya wanna be added)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog,

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat

[jiveyuncle]

Hi omg!!!!! I just saw the book you posted for TNAHP and I am dying! It looks GLORIOUS!!!!! Turned out so beautiful binded like that! And the art is absolutely stunning, may I ask what company printed it? Like what shop did you use? I’ve wanted to print certain stories just for myself so badly over the years but there are so many places and I can’t decide and this is exactly what I’ve been looking for!!!!! 😍😍😍 thank you so much for sharing!

Hi, anon! Thank you! 💕 I was so happy getting to hold it and put it up on my shelf! Look!!! 😭💕

I want to preface everything I’m about to say with this: if you use a third party service to print any material (fics, art, art in fics, etc.) please, please, please reach out to the author/artist and get permission to use the service before printing! It doesn’t matter if someone else already has permission, make sure *you* have permission. Also consider if the art in the fic belongs to someone other than the writer (like if the work was a collaborative piece or if it features fanart of the fic) and get permission from them, too! You may have to wait for a response, or you may never get one (in which case, don’t print without permission), but it really is worth it to make sure the authors/artists feel comfortable and confident that they keep control over their own work.

This is the first service I’ve used, and I have no experience binding, so I’m just sharing what I did and what I noticed with my untrained eye.

First, the service I used is Barnes and Noble Press. Here’s a link:

You can make books publicly for sale or books strictly private for personal use. If printing fanfic, be certain that you are creating a “personal” print. It will appear like this in your projects section (note the “PERSONAL” banner above the cover art):

As you can see - the price is pretty decent as far as books go! After tax, shipping, and handling costs, this book turned out to be $21.82.

You can choose how you want to customize the materials your book is made up of. Different materials cost different amounts (i.e. printing color pages inside is going to increase your price a lot). If you don’t know where to start, here’s the preference settings I selected for my copy:

Now, understand that they are not editing your book for you - you’re still going to have to do all the formatting and arranging in a document yourself and designing your own cover (so be prepared to still spend a lot of time on this project). They simply print and physically put all the pieces together for you.

Lastly, I want to address quality. While this is far better quality than I could manage on my own, it’s still not 100% up to quality of most books I can purchase in a store. For comparison, I’ll show a couple side-by-side images of the fic print next to my favorite published book, The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater.

Dust jacket: Feels great! Literally no complaints.

The hard cover: A bit cheaper feeling. Definitely noticeable difference with a printed visual texture instead of real texture. The printed texture creased and wore away to reveal the white beneath. It’s visible here after just a few openings of the book. Also, unfortunately, you cannot customize the hardcover under the dust jacket, so no spine labels and you’re stuck with this color blue:

Finally, my biggest concern, the binding of the pages: looks a lot more like a paperback that had its cover glued onto a hardcover than an actual standard hardcover. Again, I’m no expert and idk if that’s normal, what anything is called, or how this affects the lifespan of the book, but you can even see where the spine kinda hovers away from the hardcover casing and how that compares to the The Raven Boys.

Anyway, the service isn’t perfect, no, but it works for what I wanted, looks nice, is user friendly, and allows me to hold a fic I otherwise never would have had the opportunity to. I appreciate it for that.

Hope this was helpful! Print responsibly 😊

[alotofpockets]

Falling for your best friend | Florence Pugh

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Prompt: “I saw that, you were checking me out.”

Warnings: none, just fluff.

masterlist | marvel masterlist | Words: 1000

You met Florence at Hailee's birthday party. You had been close friends with Hailee since high school, and her and Florence met while filming Hawkeye. It was a rather large party, so none of the people you saw there you got to see or speak to for long. Though you did seem to have an instant click with Florence and got to spend quite a bit of time with the woman.

The day after the party you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi, this is Florence from the party last night. Hailee gave me your number after you left. It was really good meeting you, and I'd love to maybe hang out with you again some time, maybe grab some lunch or something?

You smiled at the message. Glad you weren't just reading into the instant connection you felt with the woman and decided to text her back immediately.

Y/n: Hi Flossie! It's so good to hear from you, I'd love to grab some lunch today if you're free.

Slightly tipsy Florence Pugh might have introduced herself as Flossie, before Hailee told you her actual name. You thought it was funny to call her that to see if she remembered.

Florence: Hm that nickname is going to haunt me now, isn’t it? Florence: Today sounds good, do you want to meet me at [restaurant] around noon?

You went out to lunch together and confirmed your great connection and immediately because best friends. Now two years later Florence was still your best friend. You hung out with her and Hailee whenever you could with all of your busy schedules. Sometimes the schedules lined up where you were only able to hang out with Flo, when Hailee was out of the country for a movie.

Now was one of those periods where Hailee was away, and you spend a lot of one-on-one time with Florence. You enjoyed the time you spent together, but you never planned to fall for your best friend. Especially not after having met her right as you got out of a relationship. You had decided you needed time for yourself, to figure out who you were without your ex.

Florence had made you realize how toxic your ex could be, even though she had never met them. It was nice being able to talk to her about the things that bothered you in your past relationship, and her telling you that you deserve more. Slowly, but surely her kindness and the way she cared for you and the fact that she was always there for you made you fall for her.

It was scary at first, not knowing if you were ready. You got hurt in your last relationship and didn’t want to get hurt again. But, as your feelings for Florence grew, you knew deep down in your heart, that Florence would never hurt you. So, you started showing Florence you liked her, even if it was while taking slow steps in doing so.

You’d compliment her, get her favorite snacks for the next time she would come over. You started texting her good morning and goodnight every day, getting to talk to her every day. You started getting closer physically, sitting closer to her and walking closer to her, your hands grazing each other from time to time.

Your thoughts get interrupted as the door of the restaurant where you first went out to lunch with Florence dings, as it opens. Looking up you see Florence walk in, she looked beautiful as always. You let your eyes travel over her body. Her blonde hair was down, the slight waves falling perfectly over her shoulders. She was wearing a tight black dress with an oversized black and green jacket. Her outfit matched with a pair of black boots. Your eyes make their way back to her face, that’s when you see her smile back at you.

Florence walks over to the table, you stand up and give her a hug. You notice a smirk on Florence her face, “What’s up?” You ask. “I saw that, you were checking me out.” She says, the smirk still present on her face. The heat creeps its way up to your cheeks fast, you thought you just looked at her for a second when she came in, but apparently it was longer than that.

“I, eh.” You start, trying to find words. Being flustered and nervous was not good for your vocabulary. You stop trying to find an excuse and decide to just speak your mind. “Yes, you’re right, I have no excuse. You look beautiful.” A warm feeling fills your chest as you speak your truth. Florence smiles and kisses your cheek. “You look quite stunning yourself, y/n.” She says with your faces only inches away from each other, as she’s moving back from the kiss on your cheek.

You can’t help yourself and move your eyes down to her lips. Florence notices the way you’re biting your lip slightly and moves a hand to your cheek. At the contact you move your eyes back up to hers, which are filled with love and adoration. You smile and lean into her hand slightly, closing your eyes to take in the moment.

When you open your eyes, Florence smiles and leans in, you do the same and meet her in the middle. You share a short, but sweet kiss together, as you are aware you’re standing in the middle of a restaurant. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Florence shares as she pulls away. “Me too.” You say with a smile.

It was safe to say that the rest of the day was considered a date. You enjoyed the lunch and went on a walk over the boardwalk. Hand in hand you explore the pier. Getting some ice cream for dessert and riding the fair rides. It was a day to remember forever. Both of you were taking many pictures and videos to keep the memories.

~

Turn on notifications for @pocketslibrary to be notified when I post a new fic! 

[offbranddrpepsi]

Hello! I'm not sure if you do this so feel free to just ignore this request if you don't :]! Could I request a Reyna X trans! Male reader that already had his surgery but some people were mean to him saying his still a female (how would Reyna react to them, comfort reader, etc) have a great day/night!

I am always open for asks like this because I know how much comfort they can give people as well as it just feels nice to have something like this sometimes. I hope you enjoy it and will be writing it as both top and bottom surgery (though the focus will be top surgery for obvious reasons). This is not proof read as im still a bit sick and finished a book recently so rereading anything makes my brain soup so i apologize for any mistakes.

Reyna is no stranger to being different though she doesn't understand why it is such a big deal for some. As such she is as well read as she can be when it comes to queer issues, especially if they involve her partner or someone close to her. She may not be perfect but she is always willing to listen and understand. Since day one when you introduced yourself she had asked for your pronouns, a habit Gekko had gotten her into, and didn't ask any questions past that. At that point you had obvious defined hips, despite trying to hide them, and a notable bump in your chest as binders weren't perfect but she never questioned it. You called yourself a man so she did and when you came out to her you could tell the dots connecting in her brain as you spoke. If someone misgendered you she would just very bluntly correct them with a "he." then stare at them with those vibrant eyes until you folded. Reyna was like having a guard dog that, even if they disregarded your identity, made it hard for anyone to disrespect you to your face in her presence. As you two grew closer and became a pair she would get a little intrusive but well meaning. She would ask you about physical things ranging from affection to more intimate ones. How you wanted her to handle you or refer to you, if you were comfortable with her seeing you in certain clothing or ways etc. Reyna is a woman who likes to establish clear boundaries and does so with you so she can be the best girlfriend she can be while also making sure you are comfortable. If permitted she can be found at times stealing your clothes like most girlfriends would, favoring anything oversized or jackets. She never stops gushing about her partner and boyfriend, even talking about how her sister would adore you and probably see you as a brother. At the end of the day who you are at the surface doesnt matter to her as she cares more about whats under it all, appearances be damned.

Post surgery shes adorable and overbearing as you heal. She helps change bandages, drains, even helps you shower if needed. Her radiance lets her monitor your heart rate and body temp so at the first sign of any infection or inflammation shes right on top of it making you take medicine and rest. Once you're healed enough she is the first to nuzzle herself into your chest and sit in silence as she hears your heart beat, you breath, just you exist as a more full version of yourself thats hopefully happier being in your own skin. Given how supportive and loving she is she absolutely takes it HORRIBLY when people are still mean and cruel to you. She makes sure to over talk them with your pronouns and correct name, throwing compliments at you in there as well to make them feel absolutely smothered by her. Of course thats when you're there, when you arent shes snarling and threatening them in the way shes best at. Teeth bared shes asking them to repeat themselves, seeing how dedicated they are to their bigotry before tearing into them. If theres one things Reyna is good at its being scary and damn does she scare them into at least being politely silent. When it comes to comforting you shes your biggest fan already but shes admittedly a tad bad at it because she doesn't really get why they have to be like that. Before it made sense because maybe they slipped up or just weren't thinking but now that you've taken steps to masculinize yourself more she sees absolutely zero excuse. Reyna holds you against her and promises to make sure you don't have to hurt again, to weed out those that would treat you this way. She makes threats of ripping tongues out but calms herself to turn her attention to you. You're the one that was hurt by people to small minded to be accepting, being vengeful won't fix that right now. For as long as you need she is there, holding you and talking to you. She talks you into setting up a date where she introduces you to her family that accept you just as she had. She arranges shopping trips to get you more masculine clothes and even helps you donate your old binders to other trans youth. Reyna even pulls Gekko in to "help his big brother out" as theres just some things about being a man that she doesn't understand but knows having someone like him around would be helpful

[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally In Love (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 2200-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 1

Five miles at a time. Everything in the early morning hours was measured five miles at a time for Echo Nerys and her trusty mountain bike. From 6:30 to 8AM give or take, she was a glittery purple streak on a circuit through Central Park from end to end that she’d measured precisely both for distance and scenic value. The moment she left her job at NYPD Central Dispatch at 6AM, she was changed and on the bike, ready to go. She even had an appropriately timed playlist on Spotify. 

She’d started as early in the spring as the weather allowed for, in her long compression pants and jacket, getting her face chapped as she and her body remembered what it felt like to be on two wheels and free. A figure in all black in the early hours of the morning fast enough to pedal past the majority of the criminal element and yet still taking hits off her asthma bong when she paused to get drinks from her backpack. 

Now, though, with the summer slowly stretching out down the coast, she’d tied up her puff pigtails and ditched her all black for the wildly purple tie-dyed bike shorts, sports bra, and tank top, all matching, because why not and her favorite pair of sunglasses that made her look like a trained killer. Even her earbuds were purple. There were some who said she didn’t really have the body for the tightly clinging gear, but fuck those people, she was going to be comfortable and safe while she worked out and they didn’t have to look if it offended them. Her body, not-toned stomach, thick thighs and semi-floppy arms, was her own and had been through many of its own wars, and she could wear what made her happy. 

She’d picked up riding the previous summer and had taken it inside for the duration of the winter, riding in the basement gym of 1PP, but she didn’t have a whole lot to show for it physically other than shaplier calves and slightly thinner thighs. She wasn’t in it for the way she looked, but how good it felt to finally move after being sick and stuck with her joint pain for so long. Now that her meds were mostly managed, she was hell on two wheels, six days a week if she could manage, five if she wanted to go easy on it, and it felt amazing.  

On her pace, she saw herself coming up on a group of joggers just cresting the hill, the tallest among them, a hottie from the Homicide Squad, Donnie Flack. All black-haired, blue-eyed Irish, he was every dispatcher’s crush and untouchable as a museum piece because of his wife in the Coroner’s Office. No one wanted to test a forensic scientist’s ability to exact revenge. It was just poor planning. And he was such a sweetheart, it was impossible not to be his friend. 

“On ya left!” she hollered out as she approached the group, powering up the hill despite the way her knees screamed and her thighs burned. It was the principle of the thing, really, as she stood on her pedals and waved as she sailed past them with a jaunty grin. Now that she’d caught up to them, she saw it was a couple other guys from Homicide and one of the guys from down in Trace Evidence. 

“Lookin’ good, E!” Danny Messer, Flack’s whip-thin, mouthy bestie from Crime Scene Investigations, hollered back with a huge grin and a wave as Donnie stuck his fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistled. Messer was good people, and his wife was a doll. Echo lived in their building a couple floors down and had babysat their kids more than a couple times. 

Once she was out of sight, she concentrated on her speed according to the handlebar speedometer and focused on her Beastie Boys as she took the path around the edge of the Jackie O Reservoir. It was so beautiful, with duck families out in force, moms with their collections of babies trailing behind. The water made the air feel a bit cooler as the wind rushed over her skin as she progressed toward the Butterfly Garden. 

Next up on her list of gorgeous sights was the two guys in front of her that she’d dubbed Hotness 1 and Hotness 2. She passed them a few times on her rides, most mornings. Hotness 1 was tall like Donnie, but broader, with muscles upon muscles. He looked like an escapee from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, if Galatea had been 6���3” and blonde with cornflower blue eyes and an ass that would have reduced Michaelangelo to abject weeping. 

Hotness 2 wasn’t any easier on the libido, with his blue-grey peepers and long dark hair he kept in a bun at his neck to go with his panty-melting smile and muscles. His bangs broke free of their confinement framing his face as they drifted over his model-perfect cheekbones and brushed against his sharp jawline. Not that she’d been ogling. Much. 

Alone, they were the kind of flawless that caused traffic jams. Both of them together was an obscenity charge waiting to happen in their running shorts and sinfully well-fitting t-shirts, and more than one jogger—both male and female—had pulled up lame, run into a tree, or tripped over their own feet watching them go by.  

“On ya left!” she called as she approached them, smiling as they waved when she flew by. If she happened to be standing on the pedals and sticking her ass out a bit more than was strictly necessary, well, could anyone blame her? Really? Besides, their smiles and waves of acknowledgement were totally worth it.  

Just past The Loch was the Glen Span Arch, which always felt like a fairy garden to Echo. A stone bridge over the asphalt path with the stream running next to it and abundant trees, it was easy to imagine falling into a rabbit hole like Alice diving into Wonderland and never coming back. With the sun dappling through the leaves, it was here she felt like she was the only person in the world and life was perfect. 

At least it was, until a grizzly bear in a blue shirt and black shorts descended into her path from down the hill. Echo hit the brakes so hard the back tire came up off the path and ditched out on the bike to keep from hitting him. She went one way and flung the bike the other, doing her best to guard her face and head from what would likely be a hard hit.

“Fuckshit!” 

It was over in a second, she was in the creek, soaked to the bone on some very hard and unforgiving rocks that were currently poking into her ribs and hip, with no idea where her bike was. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. Taking inventory from toes upward, she was happy to report that for the most part, she’d likely sustained bruises but otherwise, she’d live. At least, until she tried to push herself up and her hand slipped on the wet rocks, sending her face first into the flowing water. 

“Ah Christ! Hold on!” a deep, unfamiliar male voice hissed as he hooked his hands under her arms and bodily lifted her from the stream. Literally picked her up like a discarded toy, and like she weighed just as little, cradling her to his surprisingly firm and muscular chest. “I got you, sweetheart.” If she wasn’t so busy reeling from the hit and sputtering from the water coming out of her sinuses, his warm, rumbling voice as he brushed his lips over her temple would have definitely done the job. “I gotchu, darlin’. Are you okay?”

“I think so?” Echo took a second to compose herself after he set her on her feet with his arm protectively around her waist, scrubbing a hand down her face to deal with the water and unfortunately blood coming from sore spots on the bridge of her nose and her chin. When she looked up from her bloody hand, she wondered exactly how hard she’d been hit in the head, because in front of her was the concerned face of the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, looking her over like she was the most delicate bone china and he’d just yeeted it off the dining room table. He cupped her jaw in his hand, thumb gently brushing over her cheekbone, it was familiar and more than a little terrifying. Who the hell was this guy and why the hell was he touching her? 

At her tiny, horrified squeak, his blue eyes widened, looking over his shoulder at his friend, Hotness 2, who had a cell phone pressed to his ear. “This is your fault, ya jerk. You plannin’ on helpin’ or what?” 

The grey-eyed Adonis with the long dark hair held up a strangely metal-looking finger and spoke tersely into the phone before hanging up and coming over to them with a disgruntled look on his face for his friend. “Medics inbound. Settle down, Stevie.” The moment those steel-blue eyes turned on her, though, it could have been the sole cause of global warming because damn, if she didn’t melt a little on the spot from their tenderness. “I am so sorry, dollface. I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” 

When he reached for her face to examine her bloody chin, she recoiled out of reflex, not fear, but unfortunately that was the moment that everything went to shit for the second time in ten minutes. 

“NYPD! Step away from her!” Flack had his gun out and his badge around his neck, with Danny doing the same as he cautiously approached her with the rest of the heavily armed, sweaty contingent. Apparently Tall, Dark, and Yummy wasn’t moving fast enough because then Donnie barked, “Now, asshole! Move away from her or I’ll shoot.” 

Both hands up and out to the side, 2 stepped back, eyes never leaving the gun trained on him. “You don’t wanna do this, pal.” He seemed amusingly calm, which made about as much sense to her as any of the rest of this, which was none at all. Blondie slowly straightened up further but kept an arm around her waist to hold her up.

The very fact that the man spoke seemed to incense her friend further. “You think I give a fuck about your opinion?” 

“Hey, that’s not necessary…” The man standing with her gave her a reassuring squeeze before stepping over to stand with his friend. 

With them occupied, Danny crept up next to her and moved her off to the side, surrounded by the rest of the guys from Homicide and Evidence. “She’s secure, Flack.” 

“Good.” The detective nodded before turning his attention back to his quarry. “Now what the fuck were you doing feeling up an injured woman? You get off on that?”

Hotness 1 was all calmly defiant righteousness, standing shoulder to shoulder with his buddy. “We called a medic for her, they should be here in a couple minutes. We weren’t looking and didn’t see her on the path until it was too late.” 

“This true, Echo?” Danny asked softly as he gently seated her on a nearby boulder and seemed to be checking her over for more injuries than just her face and her pride.

She went to nod but that rattled her head too much. “Yeah, Messer. I guess. It was just a regular crash. My fault as much as theirs, really. No real harm done.” 

Frowning ferociously, Flack clearly was not content with her answer. “IDs, I want ‘em. Now.” 

Blondie nodded slowly, alarmingly unperturbed about having a .40 caliber pistol pointed at his face. “Front right pocket. You wanna get it or should I?”

“Don’t get us shot, Stevie,” the longhaired man admonished his friend. From his long-suffering expression, this was apparently not the first time this type of thing had happened to either of them. 

Rolling his eyes, Flack held out his hand. “Alright, smartass, wallets now.”

While the Homicide Hottie (as they called him in Dispatch) held court with her two new acquaintances, the ambulance rolled up and the medics  began cleaning her wounds and checking her over as her worried neighbor stood guard over her. The last thing she wanted or needed was stitches and additional facial scars, but it looked like she might not get a choice in the matter. 

“Messer! Get over here!” The note of concern in the detective’s voice had her looking over immediately, only to find all the guns put away and all their postures seemed substantially less aggressive, though no less agitated. 

“Ma’am, could you hold still please?” The female medic with the gentle hands turned her face so she could clean the wounds better. 

She didn’t know if it was the movement or what, but all of a sudden, she was going down, hard. The last thing she remembered was the ground rushing up to meet her. Again.

[aneurinallday]

Gibson and the Shivering Soldier

Chapter 3: Une Nouvelle Vie

By train, it was about three and a half hours from Weymouth to Woking, a town twice its size, not far outside London. Its approach on the morning of Wednesday, June 5 1940, was met by a small crowd of women, children, and elderly men, all waving and smiling in greeting, holding out bunches of flowers and bottles of beer to the returning heroes.

William stared at them through the window with a sort of numb disinterest, as if he were observing a party that had nothing to do with him.

He glanced across the creaky little table at Gibson, who was curled up in the opposite seat, his head resting against the window-frame. Almost as soon as he’d sat down, the Frenchman had passed out. The long week on the beach, and the gruelling six weeks of war that had preceded it, had left him exhausted both physically and mentally. As the train pulled into Woking Station, the jolt of the brakes and the metallic shriek of the wheels caused his eyelids to twitch, but failed to wake him from his deep sleep.

For a moment, William considered leaving him there. They were total strangers - William had no obligation to stick by him. But the sight of Gibson’s tired, haggard face made him stay. He didn’t like the thought of him waking up alone, confused, and frightened in a strange country.

“Hey.” Reaching out, William shook Gibson’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

Gibson startled awake. In the light of day, his eyes were green.

“We’ve arrived. Come on.”

Joining the slowly-moving multitude of soldiers, they shuffled off the crowded train and onto the platform. From there, they walked by the long queue of buses and taxes, whose drivers were holding out helpful signs declaring their destinations for the ease of the passing soldiers.

Keeping his hands hidden in his pockets, William started rambling to fill the awkward silence.

“Do you know where we are right now? We’re in Woking. That’s in Surrey. I live in Surrey.” He pointed northwards. “London is over that way. You can’t really see it from here, but trust me, it’s there. I have a little flat in a nice area, near a canal. You can come and stay with me for a few days, if you like. Only for a few days, though.”

He wasn’t sure why he offered Gibson his hospitality. Probably because he knew Gibson couldn’t understand a word he was saying, so he felt safe and comfortable making promises that he couldn’t keep, knowing he could change his mind without Gibson really knowing. If their relationship soured and he had to throw Gibson out on the street, Gibson would probably blame himself for his own lack of English-speaking skills, rather than blame William for being unreliable.

“You can talk now, you know. Speak as much French as you like. The cat’s out of the bag - you don’t have to pretend any more.”

Gibson simply looked at him, uncomprehending. William gave up.

They caught a bus to another suburb, and from there, walked to William’s flat. While Gibson hovered anxiously behind him, glancing up and down the street, William found the spare key under a flower-pot and unlocked the door. Upon opening it, he was immediately greeted by a small pile of unread letters. He scooped them up.

“Come on in.”

Gibson followed him inside. It was an ordinary, somewhat poky flat with one bedroom and one bathroom. The living room overlooked the street, while the kitchen (which contained a table and two chairs) overlooked a tiny garden that was all weeds and cracked concrete slabs. It had the comfortable but somewhat sparse furnishings of a man who was sensible but very much single. A man who knew how to cook and clean, but didn’t cook or clean for anyone but himself.

As he tossed the unopened letters on the dresser and hung up his jacket on the wall, William still felt the same sense of detachment, as if his mind and body were working independently of each other, and he was merely an observer to a scene over which he had no control.

“It’s not much, but it’ll have to do,” he said. “I don’t have a guest room, unfortunately, so you’ll have to sleep on the sofa. I used to live on the family estate, out in the countryside, but my parents and I...we’re not on the best of terms. Suffice to say I won’t be inheriting any land.”

He snorted with amusement at himself.

“I’m not sure why I told you that. Maybe it’s easier to confide in someone who doesn’t understand a word you’re saying. Anyway, this is my home, and now it’s yours too. For as long as you need it, I mean.”

Not saying a word, Gibson took off his grimy boots and set them aside, then hung up his jacket next to William’s. His thick khaki shirt was unbuttoned, showing the sleeveless white shirt underneath, grubby with sweat and dirt. Standing in an enclosed room, William noticed for the first time that Gibson smelled. The aura of petrol and the sea and a week’s worth of missed baths hung about him.

“The bathroom’s that way, through my room,” said William, “Run yourself a bath. Understand, ‘bath’? I’ll have mine afterwards.”

He went into the kitchen, checking that the taps and gas stove still worked. But Gibson followed him nervously.

“Can you understand anything I’m saying? Anything at all?” William sighed. “Listen, you’re not sleeping on my furniture until you’ve washed. Go and clean yourself up. This way.”

He ushered Gibson through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Along the way, he grabbed a pair of pyjamas from the wardrobe and thrust them into Gibson’s arms, along with a towel from the cupboard. He started running a bath.

“There. Try not to use too much water. In the meantime, I’ll fix us something to eat.”

But Gibson hung back, hugging the folded pyjamas and towel to his chest. He was trying not to look at the running taps. Realising the problem, William quickly turned off the flow.

“You don’t want to sit in it? That’s alright. Here.” He placed a sponge on the rim of the bathtub. “Use that. Then you can just stand in the tub.”

Leaving him to it, William returned to the kitchen. He rummaged through the cupboards, taking stock of what tinned fish and canned soups he had.

“Two mouths to feed now,” he muttered.

Turning on the stove, he poured a can of baked beans into a saucepan and let it simmer. He opened a block of processed pork, cut it up, and began frying the slices, filling the flat with the tantalising smell of browning meat. He tried not to listen to the gentle splashes of Gibson washing himself.

In a strange way, he felt responsible for Gibson. He wasn’t sure why - perhaps it was their difference in rank that evoked a sense of duty. William was a commissioned officer. Gibson was just some poor conscript who’d never expected to pick up a rifle in his life, let alone fire it. He and William had lived through the same utter hell at Dunkirk, but they’d arrived there very differently.

The pork was starting to turn crispy at the corners. William nudged them with his spatula. Without warning, an image flashed through his mind. The sinking Destroyer. The soldiers jumping off and swimming for their lives. The oil slick darkening the waves. The sea bursting into flames, burning the swimmers with it. He squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath. He tried to still his hands. His appetite had fled.

Gibson ventured into the kitchen, wearing the pyjamas. His dark curls were damp and flat. He looked clean. William set a plate of food on the table.

“There. It’s the best I could do. I’ll go shopping for fresh food tomorrow. Hopefully not everything’s been rationed yet.”

Gibson looked around for a second plate, confused.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not hungry,” said William. “You go ahead and eat. I’ll take a minute to myself.”

“Merci,” said Gibson. His voice was soft and gentle.

“Don’t mention it.”

While Gibson ate, William had a brisk bath and a change of clothes. He put on a button-down shirt and a knitted vest, then a cardigan. He looked at his reflection in the mirror - every inch an ordinary civilian - and didn’t recognise it. Surely this man wasn’t the same one who’d been terrified and shivering on the Moonstone? The same one who’d accidentally pushed a teenage boy to his death down some stairs?

He emerged from the bedroom to see Gibson standing in the living room, peeping through the net curtains at the street outside.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

Startled, Gibson let the curtains fall back into place. He looked guilty, like a child who’d been caught snooping.

“Don’t worry,” said William, “You’ll be safe here.” He sat down on the sofa, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Want one?”

Gibson nodded, and sat beside him. He placed the offered cigarette between his lips, and leaned closer so that William could light it. William’s gaze shifted from the flame to the face behind it - to the green eyes and sculpted features. The Frenchman was handsome.

The two men shifted apart, and sat smoking at opposite ends of the sofa.

“I’ve forgotten my manners,” William sighed, “We’ve known each other for a whole day and I haven’t even introduced myself. Forgive me. My name is William.”

Gibson looked at him blankly. He’d said too many words, too quickly - they’d all blurred together in Gibson’s ears.

“William,” the officer repeated slowly and clearly, tapping his chest with a finger. “William.”

Gibson brightened.

“Guillaume!” he echoed.

“Yes. Yes, that’s right. Guillaume. What’s your real name? Jean? Pierre? Louis? Philippe?”

Gibson’s smile faded, perhaps wondering if William was mocking him somehow.

“Alright, then. I’ll keep calling you ‘Gibson’. Who’s waiting for you back in France? Wife? Kids? Mama and papa? Are they alive? Do you need to get back to them?”

Gibson said nothing. But his large eyes spoke of falling bombs and burning streets. A father found crushed in his armchair beneath the rubble of his living room, and a mother whose embrace he would never feel again.

William cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“What did you do back in France, anyway? Builder? Baker? Ballroom dancer?”

Gibson looked puzzled.

“I’m being selfish, I’m sorry. I know you can’t understand me, and I’m probably just confusing you even more. The thing is, I’d feel rude if I didn’t talk to you. It seems wrong to sit here in silence. You’re my guest, after all. What kind of host would I be…”

He trailed off. For a moment, the situation felt surreal. Barely a day ago, he’d been at Dunkirk. Now he was back in his flat, sharing a smoke and a one-sided conservation with a nameless Frenchman, a complete stranger who was living under his roof. He wondered if it was all a strange dream.

He stood up abruptly.

“I’ll let you rest,” he said.

He returned to the kitchen, seeking some mindless housework to distract himself, but found that Gibson had already cleared the table and washed up. He finished his cigarette while standing at the kitchen sink, staring out of the window at the out-of-control weeds. His hands were still trembling.

By the time he felt steady enough to show his face again, Gibson had already fallen asleep on the sofa. The few hours of sleep on the train hadn’t been enough - he was still exhausted from everything he’d been through. Dark eyelashes rested on his cheeks. William watching him for a moment, then went and fetched a spare blanket, and carefully covered him with it. Gibson twitched but didn’t wake.

Chapter 4: Mémoire

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! It’s my birthday today and my gift to you is this chapter that took me far too long to finish. I really hope you like it and I’m not going to delay any longer. 

~ Made of Ashes Masterlist ~

~~~~~

Rowan’s day started like any other, he got up, checked his emails, got ready for work and ate his breakfast. It wasn’t until he was half way through his cereal that he realised anything out of the ordinary. A notification lit up his phone and he assumed that it was just an email but a quick glance told him it was a text from his mother. He wasn’t one to have a preview on his lock screen, so he unlocked his phone to read it.

Happy Birthday, son. Hope you have a nice and relaxing day. Love, Mum. 

He blinked once, and then remembered that today was, in fact, his birthday. Rowan had forgotten, and he didn’t care. There were other things that needed to be done today instead of acknowledging another year on the earth. Without any effort Rowan sent a simple thank you text back. Today was just another day, there was nothing special about it, nothing to celebrate.

When he got into work Rowan barely looked up from his phone. Partly due to the copious amount of emails in his inbox and partly because he didn’t want to interact with anyone. No one should know about his birthday, he wasn’t exactly the most social being in this office. Essar might, but that came with the inside knowledge of being the head of HR. And they were friendly, but not friends. A casual birthday wish was all Rowan expected of her if he couldn't avoid it. 

So when he walked into his office and there was an obscenely large gift basket sitting on his desk Rowan was taken aback. 

Slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket he approached the desk, circled it while inspecting the gift basket. From the items he could see he could tell this thing wasn’t cheap. The bottle of whiskey in there would have well over a hundred dollars on its own. Rowan stopped by his chair, peering over the layers of clear cellophane for a card. It was tucked under one of the corners of the physical woven basket and he didn’t bother to wait with his suspicions any longer and slid it out from underneath the substantial weight. He tore at the envelope and flipped open the small card. 

For the third time today, his birthday had presented him with yet another surprise. 

Inside the card was an elegant and simple message of birthday well wishes—from his boss. The text was printed so Maeve hadn’t signed it off herself, and Rowan doubted that she had even come up with the words herself they were so generic. Still, she had gone through this much effort to give him a gift. Regardless of whatever thought and effort was put into the obscene jumble of items, Rowan picked up the basket and moved it off his desk to one of the couches in his office. He had work to do, so he would be returning that later. 

Later turned out to be just before close of business. It would be the worst time to carry the thing through the office when everyone was cramming to finish what they could before they were allowed to go home. Instead Rowan waited, using the quiet moment to see to more personal affairs. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages. There was another one from his mother asking about his day, and a text along with a missed call from his father. A few texts from friends, which he took a glance over. He was about to reply when a ding from his computer drew his attention away. Rowan had expected it to be a client or co-worker sending in an email desperately before he became unavailable. But it wasn’t, it was from someone completely unexpected. 

It must have been morbid curiosity that made him click on it. What he should have done was checked in on the small empty box beside it and deleted it. But instead, his mouse found its way onto the subject heading and it opened on his screen. It was just an e-card, outdated and cheesy. But ever since they had started dating she had sent one to him. What had started out as a joke had become a tradition and now Rowan stared at something that had been waiting a full year to be delivered to him. 

The photo was of him and Aelin, taken on his last birthday and he was sure if he looked for some kind of date stamp he’d find that the entire email was created just hours after it was taken. She did it that way so she wouldn’t forget, so that he wouldn’t be forgotten. The irony of it was that she had forgotten, after everything this had slipped her mind and hadn’t been cancelled. 

Rowan couldn’t help it, he stared at the joy on their faces, the way they so easily stood with their bodies so close together. The hand Aelin had on the collar of his jacket was tight and he remembered how she had pulled him in for a kiss with that grip. The joke of the e-card had been how badly it was done, Aelin annually tried her hand at his job, presenting him with a horribly designed card. He worked in advertising, anything he presented to the public was flawless. But with its garish and clashing colours and comic sans font, this was awful. It was the text that drew in his focus now. 

Happiest of Birthdays to you, Buzzard,

Can’t wait to celebrate with you later ;)

I love you, forever and always.

Aelin.

For the first time in a while he felt the weight on his chest that he had worked so hard to remove. He had to tell himself that all this was a reminder of what he’d had, a part of his past and nothing that was part of his future. Not after what Aelin had forced him into. That familiar anger settled on him, something that was so natural to him after these months of silence. With an easy click on the trashcan icon the email was gone. There wouldn’t be another. 

Rowan was officially done with the day and he knew Maeve would be in her office, rarely one to leave early despite her position. So he once again picked up the gift basket, and walked it through the mostly empty office space. No one paid him any attention except Maeve’s secretary when he stopped outside the door. She was new, Rowan hadn’t learnt her name yet. 

“Mr Whitethorn, you can go in,” she said with a trained and pleasant smile. Rowan didn’t return it, he just nodded. 

Maeve was sitting at her desk, glasses on as she annotated whatever she was going over. She didn’t look up until she was ready, always holding the upper hand. When she did glance up she did a double take before she lent back in her chair to see him better. 

“Ah, I see you got my gift,” she said smoothly.

“I did, but I can’t accept it,” Rowan told her, not wanting to draw this out. “It’s too much and I don’t care for my birthday anyway. It’s just another day.” 

“That’s unfortunate.” Maeve didn’t push the matter of the gift, just gestured for him to put it down. Although he didn’t miss what he thought was annoyance flash across her face. “If you won’t accept the gift, can I interest you in dinner instead?” 

Rowan put the ridiculous hamper on one of the chairs by her desk. “Not tonight.” 

“Are you sure? I could get us into Spring Rose, I know the chef,” Maeve persisted.

The name of the restaurant brought him up short. Rowan knew the place, he had taken Aelin there when he’d brought her to visit her parents. She had met him after work, dressed to the nines and beautiful. 

“No,” Rowan said flatly. “Thank you for the offer but I can’t.” 

Maeve laughed humourlessly. “You’ve just told me that you don’t care for your birthday and you’re returning my gift. It’s not likely that you have plans for the evening.” 

She was weaving a web to catch him and right now it was pissing Rowan off. He just wanted to go home and be done with today. “I understand, it’s a generous offer. But not tonight.”

“I might hold you to that,” Maeve said casually. “It's unfortunate that you don’t want the hamper, but I understand. I’ll just have to enjoy it myself.”

Rowan was relieved that she relented, arguing about his boss about his birthday was not something he wished to do. ��Goodnight, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Goodbye, Rowan,” was all Maeve said and then she went back to her screens.

He grabbed his things from his office and then he headed for his car, thoughts invading his mind. The email stung in a way Rowan hadn’t expected. It was a reminder to him that he and Aelin had always thought they were in it for the long haul. How wrong they had been. A few messages popped up on his dash, most likely birthday well wishes. Rowan planned to ignore all of those, and just reply to his mother. She didn’t deserve his foul mood. He replied to her on the ride up in the elevator and then threw the phone into his laptop bag with the full intent of not looking at it until tomorrow. 

His apartment seemed quieter than usual, something about his solitude more oppressive. The email had provoked something in him. Rowan began to wonder if Aelin ever thought about him, or if she had to fight so hard to banish him from her thoughts like he had done. Work was his remedy for that, what was Aelin doing to distract herself?

Rowan sighed, going to his fridge and got himself a beer. There was nothing to be done about this, and just like everything else he had done regarding Aelin, he shoved the thoughts over the email out and away. They served no purpose, he didn’t need them. He sat on the couch and reached for the remote, taking a long sip of his beer while the TV booted up. Something mysterious and crime filled would be good to distract him, to give him a good puzzle to solve.

He chose a series he’d heard cursory good reviews about. While the opening credits played he went to the fridge, grabbed out a cold container of pasta and another beer. Rowan made good time, sitting down just and the director’s name faded from the screen. He set his next beer on the low coffee table in front of him and yanked the lid off the container of pasta. It would be better heated up but he just couldn’t be bothered. Reaching for his beer, clinking it against the unopened one, the glass making a sharp ting over the sound of the TV.  

Rowan sighed and took a long swig of his beer before saying, “Happy birthday to me.”  

~~~~~

Leaving the house with a little baby was still such a strange thing. Aelin had done it a few times now, not once by herself, until today. Childbirth had wrecked her more than she had expected and it had taken her longer to recover than she would realise. Elide had tried to warn her—Aelin had been too cocky. She had pretty much spent the first 6 weeks of Elsie’s life in her apartment unless someone came to pick her up or visit, and there had been plenty of visitors to keep her sane. Today at least she had driven by herself, albeit a little slower and a hell of a lot more cautious than she usually would. 

She was meeting Elide, Lorcan and Korbin at the local shopping centre. They had plans to get some lunch and then do some casual shopping. Aelin was running late, but chances were so were they as well. Children tended to cause that. Popping the boot Aelin pulled out the pram and unfolded it with practised ease. Because Aelin had been practising ever since she bought the thing, she had no plans to be fumbling around trying to fold or unfold it in a desperate situation. Flicking on the break, Aelin went to the back door and got Elsie out of her car seat. She was dozing, her brow furrowed like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to be awake or not. 

“Oh, come on little Elsie,” Aelin cooed, scooping the infant out of the car. She went to put Elsie into the pram but as soon as Aelin started to ease the baby onto the padded bassinet she loudly proclaimed her displeasure. “Ok, not doing that then.”

Aelin dropped the nappy bag into the pram instead and rested Elsie on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her beanied head. The pram was easy enough to manoeuvre with one hand—another feature Aelin had tested out. A short walk and an elevator ride later they were in the large courtyard that was surrounded by a variety of restaurants. Aelin’s eyes landed on the Italian place selected for luch, because Korbin’s current favourite food was pasta at the moment. It was across the courtyard through the autumn sunshine. It was a very rare sunny day in late November, by now winter usually had the city in its thrall, but today was very nice. 

When Aelin reached the door of the restaurant a waiter rushed to open the door for her. She nodded her thanks and then looked around for her lunch companions. Korbin gave them away, Aelin heard his loud laugh and then saw his dark head of hair pop up over the booth then quickly disappear again. Whatever game Korbin was playing made Aelin smile and she navigated the pram through the tables. 

“Hey guys,” Aelin said as she got closer. Korbin waved an enthusiastic hello, hyped up on all the activity. 

“You right?” Lorcan asked, starting to rise out of the booth to help as Korbin peered over the seat again. 

Aelin shook her head and flicked on the pram brake. “No, I’m good.”

She slid onto the seat next to Elide, sighing like she’d just been through a whole ordeal instead of walking from the car to the restaurant. 

“Gimme,” Elide held out her hands for the baby.

“Oh, it’s nice to see you too,” Aelin joked but handed the baby over anyway.

Elide grinned, air kissing at Aelin. “You know I love you even more.” With the next sentence her voice changed into baby talk. “This one is just so squishy.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes playfully, because she totally understood where Elide was coming from. Then she turned to the little boy who was trying to climb on his dad's shoulder. “Hey, Korby, look who Mum has.”

Korbin turned, eyes landing on Elide and they all watched as his face morphed into something that could be described as disgust. Lorcan chuckled and Aelin grinned. It was common knowledge that Korbin was not a fan of the new baby, and if the toddler had the capability to hate anything, he hated when Elide held her. 

“You two are not helping,” Elide scolded, rubbing Elsie’s back. “We’re supposed to be encouraging him to like the baby.”

“Ells, he’s nearly two,” Lorcan said. “He’s going to do what he’s going to do.”

“Still,” Elide pressed.

Aelin laughed. “He’ll come around, he doesn’t have a choice. I’m sure they’ll be friends… eventually.”

With the teasing done with, Aelin turned her attention to the menu. By the time they had ordered Elide had gotten Elsie to sleep and was happily holding her until the food arrived. Korbin immediately started eating his nuggets and chips, losing interest in games and the baby. But Elide would need two hands to eat her steak sandwich. Aelin was about to offer to move Elsie to the pram but Lorcan got there first. He leaned over and easily eased the infant over the table, holding her close as he stood up. Very gently he put Elsie down in the pram, taking the time to tuck her in and make sure she was comfortable. It was still odd to see Lorcan be so… soft. Especially when it was somehow related to Aelin. The truce between them that had started on the way to the hospital was still holding strong it seemed. 

The lunch was nice and Elsie blessedly stayed asleep the whole time. With a few interruptions from Korbin, Aelin was able to hold nice and casual adult conversations that didn’t always revolve around the baby. It was nice, it felt like things were getting back to normal. They finished, paid and then headed to the main shopping complex to browse the stores. Women’s clothes didn’t particularly hold Lorcan’s attention so he wandered off, leaving the mothers and children for a bit. 

“This would look fantastic on you,” Elide said, holding up a simple but elegant red dress.

Aelin shrugged. “I’d have nowhere to wear it.”

“Yet,” Elide said pointedly.

“Elide, Elsie is six weeks old. No one is going to be interested in this mess,” Aelin gestured to herself.

The brunette scoffed. “One, you are not a mess.”

“I am,” Aelin countered.

“A hot mess then. And two, I never said anything about a date, you could wear the dress anytime. Sometimes it’s just nice to put clothes on that don’t have stains on them,” Elide explained. “It’s just nice to do something just for you. That’s all.”

Aelin looked at the dress and considered, she even completed trying it on, but then Korbin ran into Elide’s legs a distinct smell following him. 

“Oh, that’s not good,” Elide muttered, taking Korbin’s hand. “Come on, let's get you changed then. Meet you back here?”

“No, I’ll just wait on the seats outside,” Aelin said.

They moved out of the store together, but then Elide hurried away towards the bathrooms. Aelin went to the couches that took up some of the in between spaces in the middle of the different stores. She had just sat down when she heard her own child fussing and pulled the pram close so that she could get Elsie out. Pushing back the visor Aelin saw Elisie’s fists waving around, the rest of her body still tucked securely in the blanket from Lorcan’s efforts. 

“I bet you’re hungry,” Aelin said, and reached down into the nappy bag under the bassinet of the pram. She’d packed a bottle to prepare for this, the thought of feeding in public was a little daunting and Aelin wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to attempt it. Public nudity wasn’t on her list of things to do today. 

Aelin kept sifting blindly through the nappy bag, waiting to feel the smooth lid of the bottle. But she didn’t. As Elsie started to cry louder Aelin pulled the bag into her lap, visibly searching. 

“No,” Aelin hissed. “No, I didn’t…” 

Now she was pulling things out of the bag because she couldn’t believe how she'd forgotten something so essential. While she stared at the wet wipes and extra onesie in her hand and the half empty bag, Elsie decided to start screaming her lungs out with desperate and hungry cries. If that went on any longer Aelin might end up with a boob problem and soak through her shirt triggered by her baby’s needs. Aelin probably had about thirty seconds before this went into a full blown crisis and she might be scared off coming out by herself again. 

The parents' room was all the way at the other end of the shopping mall. It would take her at least 5 minutes to get there, longer if she couldn’t get an elevator. The panic was setting in and if only made Elsie fuss more. Aelin only had one choice. Going on instinct and what was now muscle memory, Aelin cradled Elsie while she unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt. There was no time to grab a wrap to drape over herself and she wore a maternity singlet under her blouse so realistically she would barely be exposed. But still her cheeks burned with embarrassment as Elsie sought out her meal. Maybe once she was settled Aelin would be able to grab something. 

As Elsie started to feed Aelin felt her anxiety start to ebb and she sunk into the couch a little more. It was fine, everything was fine, and now Aelin could start to think. Making sure not to disturb her now content daughter, Aelin leaned towards the pram to get the muslin wrap that sat in the bottom basket. It wasn’t easy and leaving Elsie to her task was the main priority. And the little baby did not like the disturbance.

Cheeks burning, Aelin sat back up at the request of the impatient whimpering. It was fine, this was fine. She was just doing what women had been doing for millions of years. There was no reason to be embarrassed. That didn’t stop her shoulders from tightening when she caught an older woman looking at her, disapproval written all over her face and that just transferred to the friend next to her.

Aelin glanced down, feeling so self conscious. She was barely showing any skin, what she wore hid most of it. It wasn’t like she was parading around topless. Her stomach dropped as one of the irritated women started walking over. Mummy blogs were full of horror stories of women breastfeeding in public. Aelin was about to live one.

“Excuse me, sorry,” the woman said, stopping right in front of Aelin. 

Aelin’s voice caught in his throat. “Yes?”

“I would really appreciate it if you covered up.”

And there it was. Aelin tried not to flush, but her cheeks were burning red. “I’m just feeding my baby.”

“I can see that,” the woman’s blue eyes narrowed. “I just don’t think—“

“Is there a problem?”

Aelin hadn’t noticed Lorcan approaching, she had been too focused on the woman intent on embarrassing her. But there he stood, looming over the both of them with his arms crossed, a challenge on his face. Aelin tried not to smile as the unsolicited advice giver blanched a little. 

“I meant no disrespect,” the woman said. “But—”

“Then you’ll have no problem leaving,” Lorcan cut in. 

The woman weighed her options for half a moment and then thankfully left. Aelin let out a nervous laugh mixed with a sigh, and realised there might be tears of relief gathering in her eyes. Lorcan definitely pretended not to notice as he landed on the couch next to her. He kept his arms crossed and the do not approach expression on his face, glaring at anyone who even glanced at Aelin wrong. It was almost comical, and Aelin might had laughed—if her throat would stop feeling so tight. 

“Thank you, Lorcan,” Aelin said eventually. She hated the way her voice shook just a fraction. 

Lorcan shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “Kid’s gotta eat.” 

Then something very weird happened. Lorcan offered his fist for a fist bump. Without hesitation Aelin knocked his knuckles with hers, a new feeling of camaraderie bloomed between them. Lorcan had her back, and it was a strangely comforting feeling. 

It wasn’t long before Elide found them too, by then Elsie was sitting on Aelin’s knee with assistance. Aelin patted the infant’s back, hoping the burp would be more air than vomit. 

“What’s going on here?” Elide asked while Korby ran circles around her knees. 

“Oh, Lorcan’s just defending my honour,” Aelin said.

Elide turned a questioning glance at her husband, he gave her the slightest hint of a smile. “Some people need to pull their heads out of their arses.”

“Ohhh-kay,” Elide said, with no idea of what was happening.

Aelin would have explained further, but Elsie chose just then to burp up half her lunch. Lorcan was there a second later, whipping out a burp cloth from the pram to catch it. 

“Truly my knight in shining armour,” Aelin added, as lightly as she could. This was heading into a new and slightly weird aspect of their relationship.

Aelin knew that Lorcan had taken Rowan’s side in things, he had chosen to tolerate her for so long she really had to commend his dedication to it. When Korbin was born things had gotten better, but she always felt that wall there because he was Rowan’s friend and not her’s. But now, it was almost like they were fringing into the realm of friends. If their general banter was any indication they might already be there.

“Here, let me take her,” Lorcan offered, reaching out for the infant. “Go do your lady stuff or whatever. I’ll take these two to the park.”

With a few extra thank yous Aelin and Elide resumed their shopping expedition. They were in a homewares store when Aelin felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She looked at the notification taking a moment to figure out what it was. It was an email, telling her her e-card had been sent. For a moment Aelin just blinked at it as she remembered exactly what it was. It was Rowan’s birthday and her annual half-assed card she had curated for this year had been sent. 

Aelin hadn’t even realised what the date was, on one hand she had trouble keeping track these days and on the other she really didn’t care anymore. She just hit delete and didn’t bother to give it another thought. Without her making a new for next year the tradition would die. That didn’t matter, she had better things to focus on now. And yet some simmering bitter part of her hoped that Rowan got it. It would be early evening in Doranelle now, maybe it would catch him just before he left for home. Aelin hoped that it would make him think of her and he would regret what he’d so readily thrown away. 

~~~~~

Iris and Evander had told Aelin they would be in Orynth a little over a week. They already had a few things they’d planned to do before the unexpected revelation of an unknown grandchild had disrupted that, and asked if they could fit in seeing Elsie in between. After that first outing in the park and considering how well that went, Aelin agreed. Guilt might have been the main motivator but it was easy enough to see that they were quickly falling in love with their granddaughter. 

The easiest way to sort it all out was for Iris and Evander to drop by the bakery in between galleries and sightseeing. They had done that at least once a day over the past few days, they had even managed it twice yesterday. Iris would send a text and Aelin would bring Elsie out from her office. The little girl was excited to see her new friends and would happily go along with them, leading them to a table, and Aelin would go back to work. That’s where they were now, tucked into one of the tables in the corner out of the way. Today the grandparents had bought Elsie a colouring in pack and she stood on a chair with Evander sitting close by to make sure she didn’t fall as she created whatever her heart desired.  

Aelin watched as she waited for Emrys to finish making her coffee, needing a little buzz as afternoon rolled around. When it was done he pushed it over the counter and nodded to the commotion in the corner. 

“You never did tell me who they were.” 

Aelin cringed. She hadn’t and that may have been a little purposeful.  “Do you remember that guy who came in a while ago and things were a little weird?”  

Emrys hummed as a way of saying yes. 

“He’s Elsie’s father and those two are his parents,” Aelin gestured with a hand to the occupied table. 

Emrys tightened his grip on the dishcloth he held. “I thought you called him an unfeeling and pathetic bastard.”

“I did say that, yes.” That was one of the more tamer things she had called him. 

“And that he was long gone,” Emrys added.

Aelin shrugged at that. “Not as much as I was expecting.” 

“Well, that explains some things,” Emrys said. 

Cringing again, Aelin turned back to where Elsie was holding court. She hadn’t been the best employee over the last few months while she dealt with this situation. She’d been distracted and late or worked from home without much notice. Emrys had never said a thing, probably assuming Elsie was the cause. And she was, just in a roundabout way. 

Untying and dropping his apron on the counter Emrys said, “I should go introduce myself.”

Before Aelin could even think of protesting, Emrys had Iris and Evander’s drinks in hand and took them over to the table. She watched as he approached and once Elsie saw her face lit up in a bright smile and she started showing him all the things she had created. Emrys smiled, fixing one of Elsie’s clips that had come loose, smiling and nodding along. He very much had been something of a surrogate grandfather to the girl, and very protective of the two of them. It was touching that he would be so concerned for them. It just reminded Aelin that Emrys was a good and kind man. 

Emrys introduced himself to the grandparents, shaking hands with both of them. Everyone was all smiles, not that Aelin expected anything less. It was just strange to have the life she had left behind meet up with the one she had forged for herself. Aelin tore her eyes away and ducked behind the counter, picking out a small chocolate tart for herself. Eating behind the counter wasn’t exactly sanitary so she put it on a plate and went to sit down and have a chat with the elder Whitethorns. 

She passed Emrys on the way and he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “They seem nice. They adore little Elsie.” 

Aelin nodded. “They’re good people. And they really do.”

The admission made unexpected emotions surge to the surface. She couldn’t help but feel like she had stolen time from them. They were Elsie’s grandparents, and if these past days were any indication they would have been fantastic grandparents. Iris and Evander had never done anything wrong by Aelin in the time she and Rowan had dated, so had it been wrong to keep Elsie from them?

That was a question that kept hounding her and that she continually ignored. It felt like one that might send her tower toppling. So, once again she did ignore it and worked a conscious smile onto her face. When Aelin sat down at the table it took her daughter a moment to notice that she had, and in fact she noticed the tart first. Elsie’s eyes landed on the chocolatey goodness, then followed the hand up the arm to the face that owned it. 

“Mama!” Elsie said, her face delighted. “I some?”

Aelin’s smile turned genuine and she nodded, scooping up a spoonful of tart to offer it to her daughter. 

“We’re not pulling you away from work, are we?” Iris asked. 

“No, I don’t have anything urgent to get to,” Aelin answered. “I had something to ask you anyway. On Saturday there’s a get together at a park, it’ll be us and the Salvaterres, and my cousin will come too. We get the kids together to play every so often and the weather will start getting too cold soon to take them outside. Anyway… would you like to come?”

Aelin had rambled a little but her thoughts were all a bit jumbled today and she just needed to get the offer out. She had already cleared it with the others, Aedion hadn’t met her maybe would have been in-laws and the perpetual busybody he was, he'd insisted out of curiosity alone. 

“Oh, Saturday?” Evander hedged. 

“Yeah, Saturday,” Aelin confirmed. 

It was Iris who picked up the conversation after that. “We had plans with Rowan on Saturday.”

Aelin was going to drown in the amount of awkwardness that swept over her. “Ah.”

Iris looked at Elsie like she was contemplating something, her lips tight. Aelin just waited, she didn’t want to butt into this situation. She would leave it up to them to make the choice between their granddaughter and their son. That was a choice Aelin had no business interfering with, regardless of what she thought the better decision was.

“Might I suggest something, and I want you to feel no obligation to agree,” Iris said. 

“Of course,” Aelin tried not to let the hesitation she felt into her voice. 

“Would you consider inviting Rowan? I know things are awkward between you, and there’s some tension when you inevitably run into each other,” Iris stated, obviously having been filled in on his side of things. “Might it be good to meet on neutral ground. Have an official introduction of sorts, let Elspeth explore her curiosity with him in an environment that doesn’t encroach on your sanctuary.”

Aelin sat for a moment, just processing Iris’ idea. She had made some valid points. Elsie had a very obvious interest in Rowan, and Aelin had noticed it multiple times. The moment in the bakery most noticeably, it was like she couldn’t keep away when they ended up in the same vicinity. And that was something Aelin didn’t want to look at too closely at—the why of Elsie’s behaviour. If Rowan came there wouldn’t be the pressure of just him and them. There would be other people to buffer interactions and create distance. Iris and Evander would be there, Rowan could be their situation to deal with. And with how gracious they had been over the whole secret grandchild thing… maybe Aelin could allow them this.

“Yeah, okay,” Aelin said at last. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Aelin knew it would be awkward and she would need to do some damage control with Aedion, but this could be the icebreaker that she needed. Probably how the baby shower should have gone if they had been more prepared. In the truth of it, Aelin was losing her fight. The vigilance and the anger was exhausting, and on more than one occasion it was evident that Elsie had been affected by the strain. Maybe a move toward neutrality wasn’t such a bad idea. 

~~~~~

His mother was a saint, or maybe she was just gods blessed. Either way Rowan didn’t know how she’d accomplished it or how he was going to thank her for doing what he couldn’t. As grateful as he was, it didn’t banish the nerves over what was happening today or the situations he’d find himself in. In his mind the whole thing seemed uncomfortable and awkward. What was he supposed to do at a playdate at a children’s playground when he had no children himself? Well, he did. At least biologically.

Aelin would be there, so would the Salvaterres and the Ashryvers apparently. Iris hadn’t mentioned if Aelin’s parents would be coming, but Rowan hoped they weren’t. That would be the one inconvenience that might send him running. His last interaction with Rhoe Galathynius had been tense to say the least and Rowan was not looking to test the limits of that man’s patience again any time soon. 

Rowan had driven his parents to the local playground, the cool early autumn air invading his lungs as he tried to keep his anxiety from showing.  Getting out of the car hadn’t been as ebay as it should have been. 

“Calm down, son,” Iris said to him, squeezing his arm once as they started walking away from the parked car. “Your nerves will do you no good.” 

The playground was fairly busy, but Elspeth was easy to spot. Her curls and bright laughter drew Rowan’s attention immediately. She was being chased by Fenrys who had Korbin on his shoulders. Ruben ran interference to keep Fenrys back so that Elspeth could win whatever game they were playing. It was a sight to see, but it just left Rowan feeling conflicted. Another reminder that he was very much on the outside of this. With a quick glance around it was a relief to see that the elder Galathyniuses were not in attendance, but there was still Aedion to contend with.

“Let’s go and say hello,” Evander said, leading the charge to one of the shaded picnic tables that the group was gathering at. 

“What’s Fenrys doing here?” Iris mused and Rowan stopped short. He was one part of the tale that had been left out. “Aelin never mentioned him coming along, does he have a kid too?”

“Um,” Rowan stammered out. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Then why…” This time his mother stopped, her words trailing off as she watched the scene unfold, looking to where Fenrys had stopped playing with the children and was now wrapping his arms around Aelin. She beamed up and he dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “They’re together.”

The three of them were halted now, still far enough away that they hadn’t been noticed and the hushed circle that was forming wouldn’t seem rude. Iris’ eyes narrowed, suspicion and confusion shining there. Rowan had been there, and imagined he would have looked much the same when he had first spotted the couple in the grocery store. 

“Yeah, they are,” Rowan offered lamely.

Iris gestured in their direction. “You’re okay with this? He was your friend?”

Rowan didn’t think this was the time or place to recount how not okay he was with it, he’d have time to admit his sins later. “I’ve had to accept it.”

Iris shook her head. “What a dick move.”

Any other time Rowan would have laughed at hearing a term like that come from his mother’s mouth, but right now he was too tense.

“Now, we don’t know the circumstances or the reasons,” Evander came in, ever the measured calmness to the tempers of his other family members. “It’s not our business and not why we’re here. So, shall we?”

With a final shake of her head, Iris took the lead this time, Rowan following stiffly behind. It was time to face his fate. 

~~~~~

Aelin tensed as she saw the Whitethorns walking over. It was the moment of truth. Her boyfriend’s arms were still around so he felt the shift in her body language. He peered over her shoulder, obviously having seen who was coming as well, and tilted her head up with his fingers.

“You say the word and I’ll very politely ask them to leave, or just one of them anyway,” Fenrys offered. 

He hadn’t been enthusiastic about the idea of Rowan coming, and it had Aelin explaining it twice for him to come around. Fenrys still wasn’t thrilled, but he trusted her judgement on this. 

“No, it’s fine,” Aelin assured him. “It’s something that needs to be done.”

“Is it?” That comment came from Lysandra who was currently rocking the youngest member of their party. Eamon Salvaterre was very much contentedly asleep.

For all of Fenrys’ understanding Aedion and Lysandra had been doubly opposed. They thought the best course of action was to ignore Rowan completely, even when that was clearly not working. 

“Please try and be at least polite, and Iris and Evander don’t deserve any ill feelings,” Aelin told them. “Just… be nice.”

“You chose to do this in public so we couldn’t cause a scene didn’t you? Smart.” Elide said and Aelin hushed her viciously as the others came into earshot.

“Hello, hello,” Iris said pleasantly. 

Aelin disentangled herself from Fenrys and stepped over to where Iris was standing so that she could introduce everyone. “Hi, Iris. This is my cousin, Aedion, and his wife Lysandra. And this is Elide who married our dear Lorcan, but we have no idea why. Had two of his children too, which is another mystery entirely. Fenrys you know, of course.”

There were waves and hellos exchange, and Aelin noticed Fenrys’ features fall a little when Iris wouldn’t quite meet his eye. Rowan lingered at the back looking so awkward and out of place Aelin almost pitied him. Almost, there was the whole abandonment thing holding back her compassion. 

“Elsie is playing with the other kids, but I’m sure once she sees you she’ll come and say hello,” Aelin said, not sure of what else to do now. 

“Right,” Evander nodded. “Rowan, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Bless Evander and his tact for leading Rowan away, most likely to talk about nothing. It relieved some of the tension but not all of it. Aelin was sure that she wouldn’t relax until she was safe at home again. She looked at the play equipment and saw Korby and Rue helping Elsie across the ropes arranged as a spider’s web. It was quite sweet how those boys doted on her. 

“So, you married Lorcan, did you?” Iris said, starting up a conversation with Elide. 

Aelin felt a tug on her hand, and was being drawn off to the side. It wasn’t a child though. 

“I don’t think Iris is very happy with me,” Fensys whispered. 

“I’m sure you’re imagining it.” Aelin did not sound convincing. 

Her boyfriend sighed. “I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess Rowan left out the little tidbit about us.”

“Mama!” This time it was a child that took Aelin’s hand. “Mama, not watching.”

“No, sorry, I wasn’t,” Aelin dropped into a crouch, wiping off a smudge of dirt on Elsie’s face. “Did you see that Iris and Evan are here?”

The pigtails on top of her head whipped around as Elsie turned in search of her newest friends. She grinned when she spotted Iris talking to Elide. 

“Wanna go say hi?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, ‘peas,” Elsie said, not waiting for her mother before running for Iris’ legs. Luckily she didn’t collide too hard and Iris just placed a comforting hand on the little girl’s head. 

“You want to do this now?” Fenrys asked as Aelin stood. 

“Might as well.”

There had been extensive conversation about how The Introduction, as they had dubbed it, would go. Aelin wasn’t exactly comfortable sending off Elsie by herself, and on the flip side she also didn’t feel comfortable being the fifth wheel in the situation. Fenrys offered to do it instead, despite the history between him and Rowan. That had mellowed out anyway and the boys would have to be on their best behaviour with Rowan’s parent’s around. It wasn’t a question of trust, Aelin knew Elsie was entirely safe. She just wanted someone who would be wholly on Elsie’s side and be a way out if she needed it. So it was decided Fenrys would do it, keeping his distance and not interfering, but just to keep an eye on things.

Fenrys went over and charmingly sorted out the situation himself, following as Iris took Elsie’s hand and walked towards where Rowan and his father had been waiting. He kept his distance, like he said he would, hands in his pockets as he spoke to both his companions. They reached their destination and Aelin watched it all happen as Rowan crouched down to talk to Elsie. She couldn’t see Elsie’s face, but Rowan’s lit up. He smiled, it looked slightly stunned, but it was there. They talked for a few moments before Korbin darted over, full speed as he used the momentum of coming off the slide to propel himself. He spoke to Elsie, completely ignoring the adults. The little girl at least gave her audience a wave before she ran off as well. 

“I don’t know why you agreed to this.”

Aelin threw a glance over her shoulder and saw Aedion scowling in Rowan’s direction. Out of everyone Aedion had been the most vocal and oppositional to Rowan attending today. Even though Aelin had explained the reasoning for it multiple times and with her cousin being as stubborn as she was, refused to alter his opinion. 

“It’s my business, not yours,” Aelin snapped. 

“Sure, whatever,” Aedion dropped Ruben’s lunchbox on the table and then started walking away. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Aelin had her suspicions. 

Aedion turned still, stepping backward, a devilish smile on his face. “I’m just going to have a little chat.”

~~~~~

One thing Rowan didn’t want to do was force the interaction, so his father kept him company while he kept his distance from the rest of the party. He was wishing Lorcan had come, but it was only Elide with their two boys. It would just make the whole situation a whole less awkward with someone who was willing to talk to him. Rowan was definitely the outsider and he wasn’t going to push his luck. He also didn’t miss the baleful glares that Aedion was sending his way. 

“He’s her cousin, right?” His father asked and Rowan nodded. “Big brother is more like.”

“They’ve been close since they were kids,” Rowan explained.

Evander hummed something, then sat down on a nearby bench. “Looks like your mother is working her magic.”

Rowan turned, his breath catching at the sight of his mother leading his daughter by the hand—coming right for them. Elspeth was nearly bouncing with uncontained energy. Her grandmother was saying something and the toddler listened with rapt attention. Rowan was so focused on Elspeth that she didn’t notice at first that Fenrys was with them, keeping his distance but looking very much the protective Uncle. It seemed Aelin had sent a bodyguard along, Rowan wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or impressed. They all stopped a healthy distance away 

“Elsie, I want to meet someone,” Iris said. “This is my son Rowan, I think you’ve seen him around.”

Elspeth looked in between the two adults, before she settled on him and gave Rowan a wide smile. “Hi, hi, Ro-yen.”

His heart flipped in his chest to hear her try and pronounce his name in her sweet little voice. Rowan couched down so that he could see her better. “Hi, Elsie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Officially.” 

Elspeth laughed, hugging Iris’ leg. Rowan couldn’t help his own smile at the toddler’s vivaciousness. 

She babbled something too fast for Rowan to follow along, so he just nodded instead. The moment they were having was broken by Korbin running over. “Elsie come play. Rue will catch you on the slide.”

“Yeah!” Elspeth took the hand Korbin offered, but she turned back to wave, “Bye! Bye!”

Iris gave Elspeth a little wave as Rowan stood, she said to anyone that would listen, “She’s such a darling.”

Fenrys politely excused himself. “I’ll head back.”

With nothing else to do, Rowan sat down on a bench to give his parents a break from babysitting him, telling them he’d be fine and to go chat. He started going through some emails for work when the unexpected happened. A shadow fell over him, and looking up Rowan saw Aedion standing in front of him. They hadn’t interacted since the day Rowan had arrived in Orynth and he didn’t expect this conversation to go any better than that one. The look on Aedion’s face had Rowan standing, just even the playing field.

“I don’t know why she's doing what she’s doing or what your game plan is here, but you have no idea what  Aelin has been through these past three years without you.” Aedion crossed his arms just to look more imposing. “So don’t get comfortable.”

“Your opinion is duly noted,” Rowan said, reminding himself he wasn’t here to start a fight, especially not with Aedion. Not when this whole charade was his first chance at real connection. He wanted to comment on how it actually hadn’t been his fault that he was excluded from Elspeth’s life, but that was an inflammatory comment. Luckily Rowan was saved by his phone ringing. “I have to take this.”

Aedion just nodded and let him be. The call turned out to be from a telemarketer but it still gave Rowan the out he needed. He sat on the bench again, seeing that his mother was with Elsie, the two of them searching in the grass for something. From where he sat, Rowan could hear her squeal of excitement and he couldn’t help but smile. He began wishing she’d come over to him again, or maybe he could go over to her, a few sentences wasn’t how he imagined this day going.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Elide asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Of course not,” Rowan replied, moving down the wooden bench to make room for her. She had her youngest with her, sleeping despite the sunlight and the noise. 

“Single guy at the park,” she clicked her tongue. “Not a good look.”

“Hey, I could be some single dad with no friends and one of those kids could be mine,” Rowan said wryly. “Hold on a second.”

Elide laughed but quickly stopped herself when it disturbed the baby in her arms. 

“I come in peace, I swear,” she said as she sat down. “I never thanked you properly for what you did for Lorcan after Eamon was born. It really helped us out. Life with a newborn isn’t easy and you throw a toddler into that…” she made an exasperated sound. “You made my life a lot easier.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Rowan said, and he meant it. He didn’t know what to do with that line of conversation. 

“Rowan, I also wanted to apologise. I was not nice to you when you arrived,” Elide said. 

Rowan shrugged. “You had a perfectly good reason not to.”

“Still… I don’t know.” Elide sighed. “This whole thing is a mess.”

With nothing to say, Rowan just nodded along. A silence stretched out, it wasn’t particularly awkward and he was grateful for whatever solidarity Elide was showing him right now. 

Out of nowhere she said, “Do you want to hold him?”

Rowan’s gaze snapped over to where Elide was gently gesturing to her son. A bubble of nervousness rose in him, he hadn’t really ever held a baby before, not since he was younger and his little cousins had been placed on his lap. But regardless of all that, Rowan found himself wanting to.

“Yeah, if that's okay,” he said lamely. 

Elide in all her wisdom read every bit of nervousness he had and smiled. “I’ll help you.”

She stood so that she could rest the baby in Rowan’s arms easier. Once he had a firm grip on Eamon, Elide gently prompted his arms to where they needed to be for a more comfortable hold. The infant was cradled in his arms, looking so small and peaceful.

“Breathe, Rowan,” Elide chided. “That won’t wake him up.”

Rowan hadn't even noticed how shallow his breathing had gotten until Elide pointed it out. He did what he was told, letting out a large exhale. And she had been right, the baby didn’t wake up. Eamon wasn’t heavy, but it was a comforting sort of weight in Rowan’s arms. There was some clarity and peace that came from holding a baby that he had been totally ignorant of. 

“Ro-yen!” 

That little voice almost startled him, and Rowan might have jumped if not for his determination not to wake Eamon. Elspeth was running for him cutting across the grass and the concrete path. 

“Hey there,” Rowan said. “What are you doing Elspeth?”

Behind her, his mothering was following, just a bit slower than a rambunctious toddler. 

“I have a thing,” Elspeth declared. Then she noticed the baby in Rowan’s arms. “Oh, baby.”

So gently, she patted Eamon’s dark hair.

“Here, I’ll leave you to it,” Elide said, taking the baby back and leaving him and Elspeth alone. 

Elspeth looked up at him, green eyes shining as she smiled. “I have a thing.”

She climbed up onto the bench next to him, and even though Rowan was compelled to help her he didn’t. In the end she managed absolutely fine on her own. Now, Rowan could only watch as she reached out, picking up his hand from where it had rested on his knee. He let her pry his fingers open and put a small white flower in the middle of his palm. Elspeth’s tiny hand rested on his wrist, her finger contracting to hold him better. Rowan was still as anything, like the smallest movement might scare her away. 

“For you,” Elspeth declared. 

“Thank you,” Rowan said, still not moving a muscle. “It’s beautiful.”

“Like you!” she said, sitting back on her knees. “Mama say that everyone is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” was the only reply Rowan could come up with. 

“Just so you know,” his mother said, having finally caught up. “I in no way shape or form encouraged this.”

That stunned Rowan even further. 

“Iris is my friend,” Elspeth said. “You can be my friend too, Ro-yen.”

With that simple and heartfelt declaration Elspeth was off, back to chasing Korbin around the playground. Rowan looked down at the flower in his hand, not wanting to lose it he pulled out his wallet and slipped it inside. 

“That went well,” Iris said, smiling after her granddaughter. Rowan didn’t have the words to reply, he just nodded. Noticing his pensive state, his mother offered, “Time to go?”

Rowan gave an awkward general goodbye to the overall group, not noticing who returned it. Elspeth gave him an enthusiastic wave however from the top of the slide and he returned it. On the drive back to the hotel his parents were staying in, Rowan managed to keep up small talk all the way up to saying goodbye. He blacked all feeling until he was back in his apartment, thankfully not running into anyone else that might live in the building. 

Once inside, a myriad of feelings hit him. He could still feel the phantom touch of Elspeth touching him, like his brain was determined to remember it, to hold onto that feeling as long as he could. Rowan could also the remember the feeling of Eamon in his arms, and he began to wonder if she had felt like that. He would never know, he never got the chance to know her when he was that small.

Rowan braced his hands on the kitchen counter, barely remembering how he got there, as it felt like his chest was caving in. Today had been a tiny glimpse of what he had missed, of a little life he hadn’t had the privilege to be a part of. Something inside him longed for it, and he wasn’t afraid to admit how much that terrified him. 

Questions flooded him, close to overwhelming him. Why hadn’t Aelin told him? Why hadn’t she reached out and let him be a part of this? Why couldn’t he shake the rage that was welling inside him?

A fist slammed on the counter and Rowan hissed at the pain. It offered him some clarity enough to realise it had been him. He had been an absolute bastard, and the fallout may not have been entirely his fault but he shared the majority of it. Enough was enough, some twisted lines of fate had given Rowan this opportunity and he wasn’t about to waste his second chance.

It was time that he proved himself.

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​   // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 //   @gwynethhberdara   // @booknerdproblems​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @queenophelia​ // @petrichara​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @silentquartz​ // @curlyredqueen06 // @littleboxofthunder​ // @sjmships​ // @sanakapoor​ // @keshavomit​ // @magicalunicorngypsy​ // @wanderingjpg​ // @wordsafterhours​ // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @yesdreamblog​ // @motherofdragons155​ // @elriel4life​ // @aelin-is-my-heart​ // @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ // @crystalfireandblazingice // @court-of-glass​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @mu-si-ca-l​ // @hsilberfarb​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​   // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @emilyoftheshadows​ // @heirofthrnightcourt004 // @azymondias05​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @rabodocardan // @acciowests​ // @danibutterr​ // wanderingjpg // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @mis-lil-red​ // @midnightdreamersthings // @swankii-art-teacher​ //  @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @vanzetanze​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @anidealiveson​ // @magnifique1807​ // @charlizeed​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @ghostlyrose2 // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @endlessdaydream​ //   @feysand-loml​  // @backtobl4ck​  // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @khildreth​ // @s-uppertime​

[forevfangirlwrites]

chapter 10 play stupid games, win stupid prizes

It’s a little-known fact that Annabeth Chase did cheer for a year as a freshman before dropping it to fully pursue student council and homecoming committee. (Plus, she wasn’t that good at cheer anyway but that’s beside the point).

And since she bought the outfit for a ridiculous amount of money, she still has it. Its only use is to be worn on school pride day and even then, she switches out the skirt for jeans before the pep rally so as not to be confused with the actual cheer team.

“Wait, I get to ditch my last class?” Percy Jackson is walking over to her locker staring at his phone as he, undoubtedly, reads the reminder email that Mr. Brunner just sent out. “I should’ve joined this years ag-”

The words die on his lips as he looks up from his phone, gaze finally landing on her.

She shakes her head, shutting her locker to turn towards him. “It’s to set up for the assembly, not ditch.”

His normal black band tees and hoodies are swapped for a plain green shirt shrouded in a black zip up jacket that’s been left open. It’s the most amount of effort he’s put in this entire spirit week. And though he’s still wearing the rest of his usual black wardrobe, the pop of color looks nice.

It actually looks better that way.

“I see you’ve finally made an effort,” she says, gesturing towards his shirt, trying not to seem like she’d just been staring at him.

But he doesn’t respond, in fact he doesn’t do anything but stare at her until she realizes that she is also wearing something she normally doesn’t.

And judging by the way he’s looking at her, he doesn’t seem to mind.

Trying to use this information to gain the upper hand (and calm down the flutters that have started in her stomach) she takes a tiny step towards him.

“See something you like Jackson?” she teases, leaning her side against the locker.

She’s expecting him to roll his eyes or maybe even blush, but instead he moves closer. “Very much so.”

Those words should not cause the flutters to turn into a whole storm, yet she can feel herself melting towards him.

Now is the time she should come up with a snarky remark, or tease him, or anything to take the tension out of the situation but she can’t really think when he’s looking at her like that.

Thankfully, the bell rings, forcing them to jump apart.

Though she’s pretty sure she’s lost her upper hand, she makes an attempt to smile sweetly at him before she walks away.

“See you later Percy.”

-.-

“Is there a reason why Jason is walking over to us?” Thalia asks, leaning back to open her bag of chips.

They’re sitting at their usual lunch table with Piper to her right and Thalia in front, giving her the best view of the rest of the cafeteria.

Piper quickly glances back and smiles shyly. “I, uh, invited them to sit with us.”

Thalia has time to shoot her a half-hearted glare by the time Jason and Leo end up by their table.

There’re a few seconds of awkwardness before Jason speaks up.

“Hey,” Jason says quietly, mostly directing it at Piper. Leo, in contrast, just rolls his eyes and sits down next to Thalia.

“Are you guys also bearing the brunt of their relationship or is it just me having to listen to Jason go on and on?” he asks by way of greeting.

Shockingly, Thalia is the first to respond. “You’re not alone there.”

Both Jason and Piper turn at her voice with different reactions, Jason making a face and Piper looking apologetic.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Leo continues, addressing Thalia. “On one hand it’s Jason, on the other it’s Percy.”

“What is Percy saying?” The words leave her lips before she can help it. She leans back, as if physically distancing herself will do anything about the way her heart stuttered at hearing Leo’s words and the immense curiosity they incited.

KEEP READING ON AO3

[barclaysangel]

Guardian Doll (part 1)

So no one commented on that post I made regarding if I should post this or not...but I did it anyway. I decided to post it just to see if there are people who would be interested on this story and want me to continue. I am already writing a second part, I'm still working on where the plot will go, but y'all are free to join me on this journey.

So please comment if you like this and/or want me to continue writing/posting this story! Comments really do help fuel my motivation so maybe I will write it but if enough want to see it, I will post it as well.

Anyway, thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 624

Tags: @vi0lentg0d @streets-in-paradise (if you want to be tagged for future chapters, lemme know!)

Cecilia was exhausted. 

Physically, emotionally, you name it. Seventh grade was hell and school just drained the life out of her, sucked her soul dry, and she still had to walk home. 

Great. 

At least she would be alone on her walk. Where she didn’t need to deal with her classmates purposefully bumping into her, laughing at her. It would be a nice break from her parents being up her ass about her homework and being their own and only “perfect” child. 

Yeah, a break from all of that would be nice. 

Take what you want, take what you can, take what you please, don’t give a damn. 

The song played in Cecilia’s headphones, humming the lyrics under her breath as she strolled through the cemetery. It was a shortcut, a bit of a faster yet much more peaceful way to get home. She enjoyed the sense of serenity, the trees looming over her head and gentle breeze of wind surrounding her. 

But just then, something odd caught her attention. 

Ask for forgiveness, never permission. 

There was a doll sitting on the grass, alone. It wasn’t by a particular gravesite, it just sat there in the middle of the small field. 

Cecilia moved closer, crouching down in front of the doll and tilted her head to the side. It was a rather tall doll, probably would’ve been up to her knee had it been standing. It had blonde hair with black roots, wearing a white dress and black leather jacket with black heeled boots, painted black lips and dark eyeliner around its piercing green eyes. 

Overall, it was a fascinating style for a doll and something that Cecilia herself wouldn’t mind trying out sometime. 

Yeah, as if. Her parents would kill her if she walked around dressed like a doll. 

“How long have you been here, pretty girl?” Cecilia wondered out loud. It must have been some time, there were leaves on the doll’s dress, which she silently plucked away. After a moment of staring, she picked the doll up, smoothing back the soft blonde hair that almost felt real, and stood up. 

Take what you want, take what you can, take what you please, don’t give a damn. 

Cecilia walked further into the field near where she found the doll, wondering if this was a child’s toy that had been forgotten or it was placed on the grave of a deceased child and somehow been misplaced or moved. But judging by the names and birth and death date, there were no children tombstones. For some reason, only one tombstone that was closest to where she found the doll caught her attention but it belonged to an adult man. 

Charles Lee Ray. 

Well, whoever that was, Cecilia was sure that he wouldn’t have a doll by his grave, especially if he had been dead for about thirty years. 

To her, it seemed like the doll had no home. 

This was a very nice doll. If Cecilia sold her, she could probably get a lot of money for it. 

Or…

“How would you feel if I took you home, hm? I’ll make sure you’re nice and comfy.” She spoke to the doll with a little smile. 

Then, the sun shone and Cecilia noticed a gold necklace on the doll with a word written on it. 

“Tiff…” she read out loud, smiling more, “is that your name? Tiff?” 

Of course, the doll didn’t respond but she felt like she knew the answer. 

Finally, Cecilia readjusted her grip on the doll, Tiff, and she started walking home. She always liked dolls and it would be nice to finally get a new one after years. 

Besides, what could go wrong?

It’s in the blood and this is tradition.

[alovesongshewrote]

Could you share headcanons any fluffy The Lost Boys hcs? I love them being polyamorous with each other.

ofc! they're kind of chaotic, i hope you like them. there isn't much physical romance here, but the fluff still fluffs

It's totally Normal to Move into a Cave with the Homies and Care for the Homies and Gently Kiss the Homies and | General Lost Boys Hcs

Any fluffy hcs you say?

hehehehehe, ok

So, I 100% love and adore the “marko keeps pet pigeons in the cave” thing

I think he named them after everyone else 

There's a paul pigeon, a dwayne pigeon, a david pigeon

He will change the names depending on his mood

Like, if a certain pigeon and a certain boy are pissing him off at the same time

The boy and the pigeon share a name for a week

Paul is a regular victim of this

Rip paul

Speaking of paul

He’s got a sick jacket, right?

Yeah, yeah he does

And he takes that shit off at every opportunity

I don’t blame him, it’s california and they’re all wearing leather jackets 

In what has to be the summer

Idk if vampires can feel heat the way humans can, but like

Still

Anyway, he takes it off any chance he gets 

Someone’s kinda cold?

Here, have the jacket

About to commit an especially bloody murder?

Maybe take off the jacket, so it “won’t get dirty”

The boys got max’s sort-of girlfriend’s son to drink blood?

Time to take off the jacket

And ofc, this means that literally everyone else makes a game of hiding it when they inevitably find it lying somewhere

Marko does this the most, like literally, every time he sees the coat he just

Hides it

Dwayne will also hide it, with less frequency, but with more tact 

He puts that fuckin coat in the Weirdest Places, it’s great

And lastly, david plays the least, but when he does, no one can find the fucking jacket for a week

And he’ll just sit there, drinking blood from a wine bottle and eating unseasoned chinese food, completely unbothered, acting like he’s above it all

Paul knows who hides his shit tho

They all have tells

But he doesn’t say anything because the game is Fun

(bonus: laddie, the randomly acquired child that this polycule adopted, sweet Son Boy Allowed also partakes in the game- kind of.  He’ll find the jacket lying around and use it as a blanket.  It’s cute, makes undead hearts melt, laddie is Everyone’s son/younger brother and they Care About Him)

Also, speaking of jackets

If we go back to marko for a sec

I’ve got a hc that everyone is constantly on the lookout for extra shit he can add to his jacket

It’s genuinely really nice

It’s like 

A group project 

“Lets decorate marko- by The Lost Boys”

Anyway, onto dwayne 

I think either he painted the big ass cat on his jacket, or marko did

(marko likes to decorate things)

When the big ass cat first made its appearance, paul fuckin

Made a cat noise/growl at dwayne 

Yknow that weird growl sound dustin henderson makes in stranger things?  It’s that, that’s the sound

And it actually gets a smile out of dwayne 

Speaking of which- and this is more or less unrelated to anything- but personally i think the relationship between dwayne and paul is underrated 

They’re fuckin cute, ok?

Paul brings dwayne books (not necessarily good ones, but it’s the thought that counts) and if he isn’t hiding it, dwayne bring paul music stuff- tapes and such for the stereo in the cave

They know each other’s interests and they make an effort to support each other, it’s lovely 

Also, if he’s not hiding it, and if his hands are free, dwayne will hold paul’s jacket for him

As said, marko always hides the jacket, and david

Honestly, david hands the jacket to marko

Ik i sort of characterize paul and marko as the ones who Cause Problems On Purpose, but david is just as bad

Speaking of david

This bitch, i care about him

He acts like he doesn’t give a shit

Like he doesn’t love his boys

But that’s bullshit

He’d kill for them in a fucking second 

Also, i think he shields them from max’s less pleasant tendencies 

Like, he can’t hide them from max 

And he can’t hide max from them- not like he does with star

But if he knows max is in a shit mood

A real shit mood

He’ll do his best to get the boys to go somewhere else

He acts like a bitch, but he genuinely cares- oh my god

He’s

No, i don’t want to say it

He’s a fucking tsundere.

Ok, im gonna go sleep off that realization, wish me luck lmao

(Final bonus: if anyone ever questions the relationship, the boys just gaslight the shit out of whoever does the questioning.)

Paul, sitting in Marko's lap: What do you mean you don't kiss the homies goodnight?

Dwayne, hugging David from behind (which david puts up with for the bit, not because he enjoys physical affection, noooo): That's fucked up man.

Marko, with a hand in Paul's hair: You've gotta kiss the homies goodnight, man

oh god

this doesn't have to do as much with someone questioning the relationship, but

David: What do you mean your blood isn't in your homie's veins?

help, oh god, i need to sleep

[brynnterpretations]

hii! hope you’re having a wonderful time! may i please request a ship from the boys?

i'm a straight female in my mid twenties.

i have brown eyes and wavy brown hair and i'm 157cm.

my love language is physical touch,

i'm extremely stubborn and competitive. i'm sarcastic to a fault and have trouble identifying and expressing my emotions. i thrive under pressure.

i'm a newbie silversmith and jewellery designer.

my hobbies include painting, archery and uncontrollably crying to sad songs while regretting my life decisions.

i love animals and i have 2 dogs.

and uh, yeah that’s it really! thank you and have a great day.

Thank you for the ship and being so sweet! I hope you're doing well and like this. ♡

I ship you with...

Billy Butcher ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @supeshunter ★ (link)

You and Billy meet due to you being affected by a C-level Supe in NYC — probably Webweaver, or another scummy, bottom-of-the-Barrel V-byproduct. Butcher, ever on the lookout for anyone who's been disadvantaged by Vought and its repercussions, would step in to help you, whether it's just gathering your information to build a case (on Hughie's advising) or "taking matters into his own hands" (on Butcher's prerogative, which... let's not).

Through that, you two begin talking, although it's nothing but professional. The guy's just doing his job, and you're just trying to get back to your job, and after Becca, he's not actively seeking a relationship.

However, as your help is needed more-and-more, and you continue stopping by the hideout for investigation related-things, Butcher finds himself falling for you, even though he's emotionally constipated and initially tries not to admit it to himself.

So, he thinks you're cute physically, and is a sucker for sarcastic types, but his attraction would be firmly cemented when he finds out you do archery. Badass women are 100% his weakness, and add that to silversmith work? Sold. He's been sold. You've sold him.

He would make a very lowkey first move on you, despite his brash nature, just asking if you wanted to go out for dinner and drinks.

Throughout the talking stage, he'd be very sweet and gentlemanly, while still, of course, being Butcher. He'd always dress up nicely (we're talking button-up, slacks, and a belt, of course), walk you home, hold doors open for you, and offer you his jacket whenever it's cold.

It would be a slowburn, though. With both of you being very emotionally reserved people, it would definitely take months throughout the talking stage before it's official.

But the talking stage? It's good, and it just means you two get to really know each other and he gets to take you on nice, thoughtful dates, like home-cooked meals (even if he's no M.M. or Frenchie, he's still pretty good), animal shelters, and, though while not as aesthetically pleasing as could be,

And... let's be real, once you two became official, you'd be able to sucker him into getting another dog with you, even though there's still a Terror-shaped hole in his heart.

Bringing us to how you two became official: through a very earnest, private conversation, where he laid out flatly to you how he felt and that, if you didn't feel the same way, he'd understand. And, when you accept? Expect the warmest embrace you've ever had in your life.

He's not a PDA person at all, but he does enjoy physical affection, and would love holding you, giving you small shoulder massages, and generally just being around you. He goes weak for being the big spoon, and if you let him? Expect a ring on your finger.

(Also, he really loves your height, because since he's typically been with women around his height/taller than him, it makes big-spooning easier.)

As mentioned, he would absolutely adore your hobbies, and even though Billy's a macho guy... if you made him a ring or a bracelet, he'd wear it every day. Not gonna lie, it would have to be something somewhat manly (probably a thin rope bracelet, minimalist ring, etc.), but it would be extremely dear to him and on his person at all times.

Billy would probably not get the crying to sad songs, but it would be refreshing to him, considering everyone he's around — himself included — is emotionally constipated. He'd be pretty awkward at first (because person crying while listening to song? Huh?), but he'd grow to see it as a show of character. Additionally, he knows you, too, are reserved in your emotions, and would feel special for being able to see that around you.

In general, I feel like both of your emotional hesitations would bring you closer, not further — there's not a lot of people in either of your lives that understands that unease, and it would provide for a very honest, beautiful relationship. While there would be hiccups (I'd assume you two would have infrequent, but still tense, silent-treatment arguments from misunderstandings), you'd always be able to work it out with each other.

He wouldn't make any grand gestures about you two dating to the other boys, rather just letting it slip. It wouldn't be because he's embarrassed, he just... doesn't really see the need (he's a "those who understand, understand" short of guy). The guys, however, would catch up very quickly, just because of how much Butcher improved since you two started going out together.

While there's still a Terror-shaped hole in your heart, he loves you, so he would 100% adopt a dog for you two to co-parent.

Since your introduction to him was through the coup, he wouldn't hold any reservations towards having you around, but he would annoyingly flip-flop if you got too close to the work, especially when tensions were running higher. While he'd always apologize for it after the fact (because, let's be real, the guy can be a bit much when he's stressed), it would definitely still happen, just because he's so afraid of losing you. He knows you're strong and capable — that's why he was drawn to you, after all — but so was his brother, Becca, and so many others in his life who passed, so while he'd want there to not be any barriers between his work life and his personal life, he'd still be anxious about your safety.

The Boys ☻

Friends

GIF Source: @spacesourcx ★ (link)

I'll be real, Annie is definitely guilty of thinking you're too good for Butcher — we'll give her a pass because he's always been a bit of a menace towards her — but notices he gets a lot better when you're around. Like, better, better. He just seems in a better mood, and often makes more choices than just "let's give 'em hell".

She wouldn't talk to you too much, mostly because she tries to stay out of Butcher's business, but would really like you, and often strike up casual conversations with you. She loves how crafty you are, and...

So does Kimiko, who curiously types questions about your jewelry, your smithworking, etc. In general, she really, really loves you; she's very much drawn to crafty types (it's why she and Frenchie fit together so well), and loves your personality. She would 100% bring you extremely well-made crafts of your own; once, she sculpted you out of some clay, and even though it was just the ones you get at kids' art stores, it was really fucking good.

She would make the most conscious of an effort to become close to you out of the boys, and would invite you to a lot of typical "friendship outings" that she was deprived of growing up, like sleepovers, movie nights, etc.

Also would make you bracelets out of those Michael's/JOANN jewelry-making kits, including one very cute one made of your favorite colors and name.

She adores you, dude.

Frenchie thinks you're lovely, and definitely vibes with your sense of humor — you two would share some very, very funny moments. He went to trade school before dropping out, so he has interest in silversmithing and metalwork, and would often ask to see your wor, as well as sharing some of your own.

Hughie is intimidated of you at first — we all know he freezes up around strong women, especially the sarcastic kinds — but, once he sensed you were not going to pull any sort of "take your pocket twink and go!" on him, would open up to you. While you two wouldn't share many common interests, he would be fascinated by yours.

And, lastly: you are M.M.'s saving grace. While you still possess that sarcastic streak in common with Butcher, you are definitely a grounding force for him, and the guy appreciates the peace. More, he appreciates you — while, yes, you're stubborn and competitive, you're still a levelheaded person, and tough, at that. You also remind him a lot of Janine, who shares your fire and creativity, and thinks you're a great role model for the boys.

While Kimiko would be the most likely to form a closer relationship with you, I see M.M. as being the most likely to encourage you to work more with the boys. You're truly one of a kind, and everyone can see that, but especially M.M.

So, keep being you, girl. You've got some good people on your side.