#this the first drawin i did that did not feel like eating glass in a good while ^^ yayyy

[catastrothy]

yayyy ✌️

[manekicatwriter]

hellooo! i was wondering if i could make a request for an modern au sbi x gn sibling reader where they’re around 17-19, and they’ve got depression. they’ve had to go away for a few weeks after a bad episode ended in an attempt and they were hospitalized and sent somewhere for rehabilitation and now they’re coming home and they’re all anxious and quiet and stuff- so the boys do their best to like comfort them and reassure them that they’re loved and they belong there? i’m sorry if that’s an awkward request, i was just recently discharged after a similar situation and honestly the comfort would be great. it’s totally your call if you chose to write it tho, i understand that this is a difficult and triggering subject and not everyone is comfortable with writing things like it. if you aren’t comfy please feel free to just ignore my ask! <3

you’re here, and that’s what matters.

TW: mentions of attempted suicide. please proceed with caution.

hey! i just wanted to let you know that i’ve been through a similar situation and understand how you feel (though my case was not as severe). i wish you a safe road to recovery.

note, i think you asked for their characters but it leant itself towards their rl versions. i have a feeling the dsmp versions would be too chaotic for this sensitive subject.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please do not be afraid to send in an ask. ANON IS ON!!

Phil:

- phil was very scared about you being so gravely hurt, it kept him up for some nights. thankfully, you pulled through.

- he visited whenever he could. if he couldn’t, he was busy making sure coming home felt as comfortable for you as possible while also educating himself on how to take care of you.

- phil would listen to how you felt, and be understanding of your feelings.

- “You don’t have to tell me why you did it, I’m just glad you’re here,” pulling you in for a warm hug.

- when you got back home, he made sure he and the boys had prepared your favorite dinner and desserts.

It was the day you had just got home from rehabilitation, and you two were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t said much, you felt like you had nothing to say. Phil had asked for you to sit down so you two could talk, one on one.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” your voice started to crack. “For making you guys worry about me.” Tears started to form from your eyes and you wept into your hands.

Phil immediately reached over to you to hug you, letting you cry on his shoulder. “We don’t blame you. We don’t blame anybody. I just want you to be here safe with us. Let it all out.” He pat and rubbed your back soothingly as you kept crying. But it was a good cry. He was just glad you came home.

Tommy:

- even though many see tommy as a loud and obnoxious boy with a general disregard for others, we all know deep down that’s a persona. he will go out of his way to make other comfortable in his presence if he truly cares for them. which he does, for you of course.

- he wants to make you happy! when the time is right, he’ll crack jokes and offer to play minecraft with you.

- would tone down the yelling. not because you asked, but he’s afraid of triggering you. treats you like glass. if you notice he’s being quieter than usual and you don’t care, you tell him you don’t.

- if you’re feeling it, he’ll take you out to fun places and to eat. nothing that’s too outlandish like a theme park, but just enough to have a reason to get out of bed that day instead of sleeping in.

It had been a week since you had gotten home and Phil had instructed you to maintain somewhat of a schedule to upkeep yourself. Right now was your nightly routine, washing yourself, brushing your teeth, and finally sliding under the covers. It felt nice. The blanket of sleep consumes you easily…

…

Until you bedroom door opens you’re being aggressively shaken awake. You groan, shying away, but they’re persistent.

“Ey, wake up, it’s morning!” Tommy shakes you again.

You realize you didn’t dream, but think nothing of it. “Tommy please, what do you want.”

Finally, Tommy pulled your warm sheets from over you, making you flinch. “I wanted to go out to the park today! Feed the ducks! Yeesss!”

You sighed. If you didn’t comply now, Tommy will refuse to stop nagging you for the rest of the day. You rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. You could very clearly hear Tommy’s cheers.

You two had gotten ready, eaten breakfast, and said goodbye to the rest of your family so you could head over to the park. It was close enough that it wasn’t unbearable to walk to. Even if you weren’t completely yourself yet, you were glad Tommy was.

After the short walk you two finally reached the park. Tommy immediately bolted toward the pond and you jogged behind. He had already started throwing the ducks some seeds, and even threw it on a duck. It didn’t seem too pleased.

You two sat at the edge of the pond as you watched the ducks eat. “Hey.” You hear Tommy call to you, and you turn your head to him.

“Can we talk about what happened? With you? Is it okay?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Go ahead, what is it?”

“When Techno found out what happened to you, and told us the news, I was scared shitless.” He let out a sad huff. “I thought we were going to lose you.” Tommy kept his eyes fixed at the pond in front of him. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have brought this up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He sighed.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh Tommy…” You started, “I’m sorry for making you worry. You shouldn’t have to feel like that because of my actions.”

Tommy was lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking up, “No, please don’t apologize. It’s not anybody’s fault this happened, right?” You nodded.

Tommy stood up, dusting his pants off from the grass. “Come on now, let’s go get some ice cream!” He pulled you up from the ground.

“Last one to get to the shop has to pay!”

Immediately, Tommy bolts in the direction to the ice cream shop, and you catch up to him. No matter the circumstance is, he never seems to fail at putting a smile on your face.

Wilbur:

- i HC wilbur being the oldest, being older than techno by 3 years and older than tommy by 8, like IRL. :]

- i think out of all of your siblings, wilbur exudes the most “protective older brother” energy, yeah?

- remember when tommy lied about his mother being in trouble and how worried and anxious wilbur got? turn that up to 11 with what happened with you.

- with wilbur being the oldest, he of course had the responsibility of taking care of everyone. but somehow you and him didn’t spend as much 1 on 1 time as much as wilbur did with his other siblings

- wilbur definitely was going to change that, realizing that and not wanting to make that mistake again.

- he decided that finding a new hobby with you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

You were sitting at the dinner table, being the last one there. You were poking at your food for the most part, and Wilbur got home late from… whatever Wilbur thing he was doing. Phil cooked pasta for dinner tonight. Wilbur put down his bags at the door connected to the garage. “I’m home! What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta.”

“Mmm, I love some good ol’ pasta.” He said, already taking a plate out to serve himself. “Also, hey, I bought something I wanted to build with you. Do you mind?”

You finally looked up from your very interesting pasta. “Build..?” You had no idea where this was going.

Wilbur placed his plate on the table and approached the bags of groceries, going through them to find the bag he was looking for. He pulled out a LEGO set. More specifically, a LEGO City set from the looks of the box? “Wilbur, how much was that?”

He blinked at you innocently. “It was only, like, £25. And look! It’s got a little submarine we can make with a rock and ugly sea monster—“

“But why?”

“Why not? It wouldn’t hurt for you to do something new, yeah?” He smiled at you, shaking the LEGO box in front of him to show it off. You sighed, but smiled. “Alright. But maybe you and I should eat this pasta first before we start building.” Wilbur nodded.

“Speaking of water, don’t you think I could teach you how to swim or something?”

“Oh, fuck off with that!”

Technoblade:

- i think out of everyone in the family, he understands you the most in terms of how you feel.

- not suicidal, but just generally having depressive episodes due to his ADHD.

- techno’s generally closed off, but started to really open up to you because he wanted to show he cares, even if it meant going out of his comfort zone.

- techno suggested journaling. once a day or once per week, it didn’t really matter. just as long as you could write down your feelings somewhere.

- he didn’t explicitly say it, but he also bought a book for himself so he could do it along with you. although, he more often than not just forgets to write in it until you mention your own journal.

- if you want to be sad and quiet, you can be sad and quiet with him. his room is a safe space for you if you ever need it and you’re always welcome to come in, just as long as you knock first.

With one hand on your mouse scrolling through the internet, and another resting your head on it, you were safe to admit you were utterly and completely bored. Honestly, you thought about taking another nap after your last one, but a knock on your door stopped you right before you pulled the covers over yourself. “Can I come in?”

You rose from your bed. “Come in. Oh hey Techno.”

He gave a simple wave and his signature “Halloo.” He walked right over to you and handed a journal and a ballpoint pen. “I got this. For you.” His stare was sharp but you could sort of tell he was nervous.

“What for?”

“I dunno. Writin’ your feelings down or drawin’ or somethin’. Whatever helps you vent.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh Techno, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.” You gave a slight smile, but saw that he still had another journal in his hand. “You have two journals?”

Techno raised his eyebrow in confusion before looking down at his hand. “Oh this? It’s for me. So we could do it together, I guess.”

You let out a happy hum. “That’s nice. Say, why don’t we go to your room? I want to see your new lava lamp and stuff.”

Techno shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got more stationary too if you want.” He waved his hand before letting himself out the door, with you following not far behind.

hi hope u enjoyed reading as much as i did writing it. this format was new for me but very fun!

[glassbxttless]

It’s Mother’s Day in the UK today so could we see Clyde getting ready to celebrate his loved one today? 💕💞💗💖💘

Well happy Mother’s Day sweetheart and to all the UK mama’s here! I love you all and you’re doing such a great job! Here’s a little bit of Clyde lovin’ up on his mama bear.

Clyde Logan x Reader

Word Count: 1,157

Warnings: Mother’s Day fluff, kids (Ben & Andy from Dad!Clyde series! Before Daniel & Violet), marriage (Clyde & Reader)

Clyde has always thought of you as the best mother around. When he sees you with Ben and Andy, something in his heart always grows two sizes bigger and clenches tight in his chest. The way you never complain to be up at 4am with a two year old who just has to be in mama and daddy’s bed, or the way you smile through cleaning up the immense amount of dirt each boy drags in on their faces and hands everyday, or even just the smile you wear when you see your entire family. It feels good to Clyde.

So when he sees Mother’s Day pop up on the calendar, he has his shift covered at the bar and writes an I love you note to you, leaving it on your bedside table. And you actually get to sleep in that morning— no toddlers crying or six year olds getting caught in their zippers. And you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you check the time on the clock. 10am. You really did get to sleep in. You smell the faint scent of bacon wafting through the trailer and you see the note as you reach over to slide on your glasses.

‘Take your time showering, Honey

Breakfast will be here when you’re ready,

I love you and Happy Mama’s Day

— Clyde’

And you smile brightly, folding the note up and placing it in the drawer of your bedside table. You do take your time, able to shave and wash your hair, exfoliate, and maybe you even got to rub lotion into that pretty skin of yours. An entire process you didn’t have time to do often. And you emerge into the kitchen, wearing a pretty yellow sundress for the day. Clyde smiles as he looks you over and presses a kiss against your head.

The boys were munching on their own breakfasts’ and giggling to themselves. Clyde had a whole day planned for the four of you. “Remember how much you loved the aquarium?” Clyde asks as he sets the plate in front of you. You hum in response, picking up and eating a very crisp piece of bacon. “Figured you and I, and the boys can all head down there. Just spend the day as a family.”

“That sounds perfect, bear. Thank you.” You smile as you eat your breakfast. There’s a card waiting on the counter with two little drawings you’ve yet to be shown and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You have the best husband and little boys on this earth and you wouldn’t change it for a second.

At the aquarium, neither you, nor Clyde, had to discipline Andy or Ben. They really were pulling out their best behavior. And you were impressed. You smile as they all want to spend some time in the shark exhibit— which was Andrew’s favorite. He adored whale sharks. And Clyde’s holding you around the waist as you lean on the stroller and watch your kids ogle through the glass. Your heart is so full and you’re so in love. Clyde presses a kiss on the back of your neck. “They’ve got the best mama ‘round.” He mumbles against your skin.

Your skin goes hot and you shake your head, just a bit. “I’m just trying my best.” You say softly and feel Clyde squeeze your hip just a little.

“Got a few more things left for you, beautiful.” He says softly and calls for the boys, helping Andy back into the stroller before he’s leading you on to the gift shop.

When you and Clyde have a moment alone as the boys were playing with their new aquarium treasures, Clyde hands you a letter and the card from earlier. “You can read it whenever you’d like. Doesn’t have to be today.” He says softly and kisses your head before there’s another thin box being passed your way.

When you open it and find the pretty diamond tennis bracelet, your heart drops through your stomach. “Oh it’s beautiful, Clyde.” You say softly.

“Kids picked it out.” He comments and helps you fasten it around your wrist. “We wanted you to feel special today. So so much for us all the time.” He presses a kiss against your hand and you sigh softly. “Boys? Why don’t ya come give yer mama those drawins’?” Clyde calls out and you hear the patter of four little feet running from their bedroom to where you were sitting on the sofa of the trailer.

Andrew is the first to show you the little heart he’s made with his feet dipped in red paint, “daddy help me!” He clarifies when you take the paper, smiling softly. You see the messily signed I Love You, Mama and Andrew at the bottom. “Daddy showed how write.”

“Daddy showed you how to write?” You correct him softly and then pull him into a big hug. “Thank you, Andy. I love it.” You press kisses all over his face and he just giggles loudly. Ben waits patiently to show you the drawing he’s done of your family, much better penmanship than his baby brother’s when you see the I love you, from Ben scrawled across the bottom. You hang both drawings up on the refrigerator to look at every morning before breakfast.

And Clyde handles bedtime so you’re able to relax in bed, maybe get a bit of reading done. And when he comes to bed, he offers to rub the kinks out of your back and neck the best he can. And you oblige, knowing just how happy it makes him to treat you to a day. And maybe you were self indulging just a little bit. For 364 days a year, you’re a mom, a wife, and you feel hardly appreciated until it comes to bedtime and you sit back and see what you’ve accomplished each day. But this one day a year, Clyde pampers you (he tries to more than that. But Mother’s Day is just really special). He wants you to feel happy, to feel loved, to feel like you’re doing the best job at keeping your family sane. Which you are.

And when Clyde’s sleeping, right arm tucked happily around your waist, you reach over to grab the letter Clyde wrote. It details just exactly how he fell in love with you, how he continues to love you, how he feels so much love when he sees you with your kids, and he can’t wait for next year’s Mother’s Day.

And maybe he didn’t get you flowers and chocolates, but this day has meant a whole lot more to you than something superficial that will wilt in a week and chocolate you would end up giving to the three boys in the household. You wipe your eyes and place the letter in the drawer as well.

You were so damn lucky to have Clyde.

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @miraclesabound @d-dark-thoughts-girl @xjsteph @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19 @safarigirlsp @roanniom @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @mariesackler @clydesducktape @loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @historyandfandoms50 @driversmutbucket

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"Explorers raided tombs and paraded the remains of ancient monarchs and dynasties to their homes. Mummies were unwrapped at social affairs and examined—and it was such a popular pastime that tourism companies in Egypt sent such delights to European countries to satisfy their morbid curiosities and struggled to fuel the growing trend."

“So you see,” Sebastian continued, “There is a historical precedent for this sort of thing. I’m hardly the first businessman to notice the wasted resources just rotting away underground. Or stuffed into an urn, depending on customs and family sentiment.”

“There’s historical precedent for a lot of fucked up shit, Shaw. That doesn’t make it okay!” Pyro stared, aghast, at the website. “Does the Council know you’re doing this? They can’t possibly approve!”

“Are you going to run and tattle on me?” Sebastian sneered. “That doesn’t seem like you, Allerdyce, but you have become more of a conformist rule-follower in Krakoa, it seems. At any rate, some of the Council are aware of my side business. They have elected not to bring it to a vote in meetings, so presumably I am breaking no law of the island.”

“But….it’s wrong. It’s bloody grotesque is what it is!” Pyro exclaimed.

“Is it better or worse than burning people to death during a bank robbery, or as part of some half-baked political protest?”

“Oh, give me a fucking break, Shaw!” Pyro snapped. “I know I’ve done some bad things – “

“Some bad things. What an adorable generalization, ducking out of all serious responsibility – “

“I know I’ve killed people, okay?” Not quite as many as some X-Men wanted to pretend, though. He mostly went for guards, police officers and soldiers, who, as far as Pyro was concerned, had it fucking coming. He hadn’t wanted to kill people to rob a bank, and there was never a need to if the civilians were smart enough to stay well back.

“But killing people doesn’t mean I can’t draw any moral lines, ever,” Pyro continued. “And I’m drawin’ a line right here. This is not okay.”

“Why not? Who does it hurt, really?”

“Well, surely the people whose bodies are getting rented out to sickos! No one would want that.” Pyro wasn’t sure he could articulate the sick churning in the pit of his stomach. It was something that went beyond logic, just a deep sense of disgust that seemed to well up from the center of his being. He was an open-minded fellow, he was willing to play fast and loose with a few morals, but surely some things were just….wrong. Right?

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Sebastian said, waving a hand dismissively. “And apparently X-Factor is running some very interesting experiments with discarded mutant corpses over in their appropriately named “Boneyard.” And I’m quite confident that Sinister is probably churning out clones in his little lab, no matter how he might deny it. So whats the harm in my business?”

“Just because other people are doing it doesn’t make it okay! It’s like a….desecration, isn’t it?” Perhaps there was some of his Gran’s staunch Catholicism lurking under the surface, despite Pyro’s current status as…well, not an atheist, exactly, more like an agnostic who didn’t want to think about things too hard. He had to admit, a childhood of Mass and Confession and Hail Marys really got under your skin, no matter how long ago you walked away from the church.

“All this fuss over discarded meat,” Sebastian shrugged. “That’s all it really is when you remove religion and sentiment from the equation. Really, Allerdyce, I’m surprised at your squeamishness.”

“Are you really okay with it, then?” Pyro asked. “Letting some human fuck a mutant corpse? That’s what they’re doing it, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. I believe that’s the most common activity, but a few people want to cook and eat choice pieces.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly all right, then.” Pyro’s words were so heavy with sarcasm, they practically thudded onto the floor.

“Understand, Allerdyce, I find all this personally distasteful. I am disgusted by the idea of necrophilia, and even cannabalsim. But I see no reason to deny others, if there is money to be made. The ‘sickos’ will pay top dollar for discrete fulfillment of their taboo desires.”

“But do you really want to be putting mutant corpses in human hands? Haven’t they got scientists trying to study us or clone us or whatever? Put our DNA in Sentinels to make super-weapons?”

Sebastian laughed heartily. “Really, I didn’t think you were so naïve. Mutants have been in the public eye for several decades. The various governments of the world have been capturing mutant test subjects for a very long time. There are hundreds of mutants buried in graveyards and millions in the heavy layer of ash that still covers Genosha. If some enterprising human scientist wants mutant DNA, it would be very, very easy to lay hands on it. In fact, your own corpse is probably preserved in a government lab somewhere. In other words, there’s no point in closing the barn door at this point. The horses are long gone.”

Pyro couldn’t resist a full-body shudder at the thought. He knew, deep down, that his body was probably stuck in a metal drawer somewhere, or cut into chunks sitting in labelled glass jars. The US government had probably been interested in him as a Legacy Virus victim, back before the cure. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow, it did.

“And the bodies are only available for a limited amount of time, at any rate,” Sebastian continued. “Aside from the obvious natural impermanence of a corpse, I’ve had Sinister inject the bodies with a kind of “kill switch.” After five days, the corpse will dissolve, leaving no trace behind. The humans are only paying to rent, after all.”

“But wait…..” Pyro ventured. “What gives you the right to sell other people’s bodies? Shouldn’t they be the ones to profit off that?”

“What gives people the right to collect discarded trash?” Sebastian said, spreading his arms wide. “Would you begrudge the little old lady collecting aluminum cans for a few pennies from a recycling center? Or the struggling student who takes a sofa from the side of the road? That’s all these corpses are. Trash. Their previous owners have shiny new bodies – bodies gifted to them by Krakoa and the Five, by the way – and left no instructions as to disposal. I don’t use bodies from people who requested to be cremated, or some kind of ritual burial. Just bodies have have been carelessly tossed aside, by people who clearly don’t care.”

“Oh, well I’m sure you’ll be happy to explain that to everyone else, then,” Pyro said. “I’m sure they’ll all be totally understanding.” He realized a moment later, with a nervous twinge, that threatening to tell on the unscrupulous businessman while you were sitting alone in his massive castle and no one else knew where you were was a very stupid thing to do. Fuck. He should have at least claimed to have evidence left with a trusted friend or something, but he’d only just stumbled across this, while exploring the so-called “dark web.” Maybe he could bluff his way out of this.

“I told you, some Council members are already well aware,” Sebastian said, sitting back and regarding Pyro across steepled fingers. “I don’t think you’d find those in authority quite as willing to turn on me as you imagine, Allerdyce. In fact, it’s entirely possible that any attempt to inform the public will lead to a hasty mind-wipe for you.”

“I’ve got proof. I left it all on a flash drive with……” Freddy? Dominic? Mystique? “….a friend,” he finished, not wanting to actually put anyone else in the crosshairs. Hell, Mystique might even know about this. He’d like to think better of her, but she always had schemes within schemes going. He wondered which telepath on the Council might be in on this. Was Sinister a telepath? That arrogant piece of shit Exodus? He seemed too high-minded to approve, but that mission in the Savage Land had shown Pyro that Exodus did not give a single fuck about mutants that he considered weak or “unworthy.” Frost? Even Xavier? Pyro had never trusted that creepy bastard. Something about him had always seemed too good to be true.

Sebastian laughed again. “Oh, you think I’m going to kill you? That’s cute. Allerdyce, you are not in some ridiculous detective story. I am a practical man, and despite your bleating about morals, I know you are, too. I am willing to make you an offer. It’s an easy job. All you have to do is ‘keep mum,’ as they say.” Sebastian wrote a number down on a piece of paper, and slid it across the table.

It was, in fact, a very nice number. Enough to make some of Pyro’s disgust quickly fall away.

“After all, why shouldn’t you enjoy the same kind of luxury experienced by Krakoa’s elite? You serve aboard the Marauder, and you’re obviously on the lowest rung of the crew. None of the power and privilege weilded by the X-Men, none of the wealth bestowed by birth on Christian Frost, my own son, and the Von Struckers. And you do significantly more work than for the Hellfire Trading Company than those spoiled idiots. Why not take a little something for yourself?”

Pyro’s mind whirled. Of course, taking the money now would mean he was “in it,” so to speak. And if the secret got out, he’d probably be implicated along with Shaw, at least in the eys of his fellow mutants. Which would hurt a bit, after all his heroics with the Marauders. He was starting to feel, at least a little bit, like a good guy.

But on the other hand, if Sebastian was telling the truth, and some of the Council already knew, trying to tattle would just get him in the shit. It was all well and good to have movies about heroic whistle-blowers, but in the real world, they got slandered, ruined, and sometimes murdered. No one would stand up for a relative nobody like Pyro, especially if Frost and Mystique already knew. At best he’d just get mind-wiped.

It would be safer to just walk away and keep his mouth shut. And if he was going to walk away anyhow, why not pick up a paycheck for it?

They were just corpses, right? What a resurrected mutant didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

And it didn’t seem to actually be breaking any Krakoan laws.

And it was a lot of money.

And Pyro really did like money.

It wasn’t like he was a proper journo anymore, was he? No need for integrity.

Pyro pushed the paper back across the table.

“You’ll need to add a zero to that number before I’ll even consider it,” he said. “And this is just for silence, understand? I’m not gonna be your employee, don’t start expecting me to fetch and carry.”

Sebastian grinned, making a mark on the paper, and held it his hand to shake.

“I knew you’d see sense. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Allerdyce.”

OOC: I was going to make that sillier, but the more I thought about it…..Sebastian probably would bribe Pyro to shut up, and Pyro would probably just take the money. He’s trying to be “good,” but not that good. Also, no offense intended to Exodus. After the story in the Quicksilver min-series, when Pyro is working with Acolytes on a mission for a supposed Legacy Virus cure (which doesn’t exist), Pyro probably holds a serious grudge against him.

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

Caviar and Cigarettes

Ashton x Reader  -  Collab Masterlist - 3763 Words - Part 1 of 1

Notes: this was written as part of a collab event as a gift for @mermaidcashton using a mix of their different suggested tropes but specifically ‘waking up in vegas.’ I hope you enjoy it ❤️ also I’ve never been to a casino I’m sorry this is 100% based off of what I know from TV

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, people are on a plane which could be scary, light nsfw content, some swearing.

- - -

The overhead compartments creaked as the plane rushed down the runway headed for liftoff. The sensation always sent a shiver down your spine and caused knots to grow in your stomach.

You hated flying and had everyone been back in LA instead of visiting the UK on a press tour, you would’ve opted to drive to Las Vegas from home and meet the boys there. Unfortunately for you, being their one-person PR/Social Media Management team placed you behind the scenes for the entire junket. And now, it placed you in the window seat of a plane preparing to hurtle dangerously through the sky- although your friendship with the bride-to-be was partly at fault.

Next to you, Ashton rolled his eyes as you gripped the armrest tightly. Across the aisle he watched Michael and Crystal giggle at something, and just ahead of them he could see Callum and Luke watching a movie on one of their phones.

He loved his friends and was beyond happy for Michael and Crystal but each of their small smiles and soft looks felt stifling and Ashton found himself wishing things could just be like when they were younger. Everything felt easier then, it was much more fun going on trips, there was less pressure to do or say the right thing or post the right statuses. They were just four friends making music. Now, everything was different including you.

You silenced your phone and offered Ashton a consolatory smile. “I know you’d rather be across the aisle,” you said glancing over at the others, “but let’s try to be friendly it’s a long flight.” There was a slight edge to your tone and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re right dollface,” Ashton bit back, “I’d much rather be seated with my friends. Not our social media manager.”

You felt a warmth spread across your face as you tried to think of a smart response. Ashton has always been the most aloof of the four when you joined the behind the scenes team yet every conversation with him turned sour.

When you didn’t respond Ashton decided to keep going. “I mean I offense but how the hell are any of us supposed to relax when you’re here hovering around? This is supposed to be a party! A vacation! But you make it look like work.”

“That’s right Ash,” you said icily, “because I am working. I have to make sure none of you do anything stupid while you’re ‘having fun and letting loose’.”

And there you go, Ashton thought, like always making everything else difficult. Why couldn’t you just be agreeable?

“Besides,” you said interrupting his thoughts, “the last thing the group needs is more dating drama. Your last stint did enough damage.”

There. You said it, after weeks of thinking it you actually said it. You didn’t blame him for how the breakup went and for a while you were proud at how little attention Ashton gave to the fan speculation. But then he deleted all their pictures together and made a few (now long deleted) vague tweets that sent the fan base into a deadly spiral that spewed death threats at his ex and caused you more than enough sleepless nights.

You felt a little guilty when he didn’t respond with another jape- but who did he think he was anyway? Sure he was attractive but he couldn’t get away with everything. Not this time. Not after you had to stage and arrange posts for him every time he swapped partners.

You huffed and slipped your headphones in. There was no hope for pleasant conversation, and you had no desire to fill the time with mobile games. The audiobook claimed to calm and soothe the overworked professional with meditation and organization tips. Compared to the $350 plane fare the $25 download seemed like a reasonable and informative way to fill the ten-hour flight.

By the halfway mark you’d been proven wrong on both accounts. The narrator’s lilting accent was distracting in all the wrong ways, and the information sounded like every motivational speaker ever; all hype and no substance. Twice you felt your eyes drifting closed and twice you managed to snap yourself out of it. The third time however you didn’t snap back awake as your head lolled to the side.

The brush of your hair against his shoulder alerted Ashton to the situation. He chuckled lightly under his breath, for a moment you were at peace. For a moment you were someone he didn’t know, someone he might’ve liked to know better.

But moments don’t last forever, Ashton knew this to be true and before long the light jostling of the plane woke you up. You blinked slowly trying to adjust to the lights and grimaced as Ashton came into focus. The intensity of his gaze puzzled you. Was there something on your face? The expression was unconscious, but Ashton saw it flicker across your face and that stung. Not even away more than a minute and you were already getting to him.

Uninterested in having another quiet row like a soon-to-be-divorced couple, he quickly looked away leaving you once again to choose between silence and the droning audiobook as the plane crossed the Atlantic and then the entirety of the North American continent.

The sun had already set when the descent started. Outside you could see the world swathed in swatches of brilliant color and dazzling shapes against the horizon. It felt like your heart skipped a beat. The Vegas strip was everything you’d expected. The hotel itself looked like a work of abstract art, it’s glass elevators sparkling under the desert sunset.

Late dinner reservations had been made for the five of them, and you took the opportunity to settle into your room, eat an entire room service pizza, and take a nap. They would be out on the hotel’s casino floor for the rest of the night and you were more than happy to join them.

By the time you put yourself together and got there, the house was in full swing. The music was loud, the people louder. You noticed Ashton first at a roulette table surrounded by other beautiful people. You turned to walk away and look for Crystal when he noticed you.

You smiled thinly and made your way over to him, you had to. Anything else would’ve been seen as rude and that was a problem you didn’t want to deal with.

You lightly touched his shoulder to let him know you were there and glanced over the table. He hasn’t lost anything but wasn’t winning either. Ashton froze at your touch, the innocuous gesture sent a shock through his body, and at that moment something changed.

The dealer called for bets to be placed for the new round as you settled in next to Ashton. The dark jacket paired well with the retro red shirt he wore and you had trouble looking away.

“You look-“ Ashton started but couldn’t finish the sentence, his wide eyes glanced over your body for one of the first times seeing it outside of business wear. The metallic accents caught in the low light and cast an ethereal glow over you that kept drawing his focus.

You flushed, “thanks...you do too.” The sentiment felt heavy despite the normalcy of the exchange and you quickly accepted a glass of something from a roaming waiter to loosen your tongue.

You glanced back over the table and turned to Ashton with a conspiratorial grin. You leaned in to whisper and Ashton felt your hot breath on his neck.

“Always bet on black,” you offered while biting your lip as he laughed lightly. Everyone said that everyone knew that was a rookie move. But for the moment it seemed like the best advice and you were shocked when he did it.

Not as shocked as you were when he won.

Ashton turned and looked at you, amazed.

“Ash that was so lucky!” You gushed openly and your genuine smile pulled at his heart.

“Maybe it’s just you,” he said softly, the honest edge to his voice surprising you. You laughed awkwardly trying to play off the sentimentality of the words but they kept playing over in your mind.

“I think the happy couple ran away for a little bit,” he offered quickly moving on, “but I think we ought to go celebrate.”

You nodded, “well since I did help you win, I suppose you could buy me a drink.”

Ashton grinned back and quickly gathered his winnings before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you towards the lounge. You could smell his cologne as you walked and you weren’t sure if it was that or his hand on your hip that kept distracting you from whatever he was saying.

The hazy lounge atmosphere was almost as intoxicating as the cocktails that Ashton kept ordering for the two of you. The liquor burned in all the best ways and a soft sweet taste lingered on your lips. You felt warm and giddy, and surprisingly happy to have been spending this time with Ashton.

At some point, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and you laughed at one of his jokes. Had he been sober the sound might’ve broken his heart, like most secret things do if they’ve been dreamed about before.

You turned to say something but stopped with the words dead on arrival. Ashton was closer than you had realized while talking, your faces just inches apart. The red hue of the lights flashed across his features and seemed to show how truly beautiful he was.

For a moment the closeness lingered, and you could feel a tense stiffness in the arm around you, and electricity where his hand curled around your bare shoulder. Unconsciously you felt your face tilt up towards his, and Ashton felt the same desire to close the gap.

What am I doing, you thought trying to blink out of it, I technically work for him I can’t kiss him! Besides he doesn’t even tolerate me normally.

Ashton froze, unable to tear himself away from you, the soft tint of the lights exaggerated the shadows on your face and kept drawing his eyes back to your lips. His hand on your shoulder itched to run up to tangle in the hair at the back of your neck and pull you against him.

She doesn’t even want to be here, he thought suddenly, why the hell would she want to kiss me on top of that?

But somewhere in the back of his mind Ashton knew you were struggling over something similar. He knew you were at least tempted, otherwise you would’ve moved.

A scantily clad cocktail waitress interrupted the moment and sent you both back to looking away. Your stomach felt uneasy from the tension and you drank quietly for a while contemplating your next move. You needed to say something funny, something light to keep this good energy going.

“Look at the bartender,” you said, “can you imagine him working anywhere else?” Your joke was directed at a thin sort of person who without a doubt had the Vegas aesthetic down to a T.

Ashton felt his heart drop, couldn’t you say something nice? Did you always have to be so critical of everyone?

“That’s typical,” he mumbled into his drunk.

“What do you mean it’s typical?”

“You, princess. Always having some shallow thing to say,” he took a long drink draining the glass before turning back to your shocked face.

This had been a bad idea, you knew he had some problem with you but it had been enough.

Refusing to cause a scene on the crowded floor you swiftly stood. “It was just a joke,” you hissed through a clenched jaw before walking towards the lobby and elevators that would whisk you back to the safety of your room.

“Hey come back!” Ashton tossed money into the table and quickly darted after you, slipping into the elevator at the last second.

“We were having a good time,” he said defensively, “stop being such a spoilsport.”

“A good time? Sure, it’s all fun and games for you. Didn’t you ever stop to think that maybe something is majorly wrong when you can’t go twenty minutes without insulting me?”

“It wasn’t an insult it was a comment.”

You laughed openly, “oh that’s rich Ash. A comment.”

The doors slid open on your floor and you quickly turned heel and left. You heard his footfalls behind you and it took everything in you to resist slamming your door before he could enter the room. You angrily kicked your shoes off sending them in varying directions that you didn’t care to fix.

Ashton felt his palms get sweaty and his mouth dry. He didn’t want to keep watching you walk away anymore. “Can’t we just talk about this like friends?”

“Friends?” You felt your heart get all twisty at the words, “we’ve never been friends Ashton.”

When he didn’t respond you continued, crossing your arms in front of your chest as if the pressure would keep you still and safe.

“I used to think we could’ve been. When we first met I thought: now there’s the one- attractive and smart and mature. But all you’ve ever done is play games, spew pretensions, and hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said lamely taking a step closer to you.

“You don’t hate me? Oh that’s right you just hate the way I dress, and joke, and talk...” You met his gaze with a challenge and in another first of the night, he accepted.

Ashton looked at you with a fondness he had never expressed out loud and a gentleness that’s translated in how he took your hand in his and pulled you against him.

“I don’t hate you at all,” he said softly cupping your cheek with his other hand, “I hate that when you’re here you’re always working, I hate that you can’t ever just be with us, I hate that I miss you when you don’t answer a text, and I absolutely loathe that when you do it’s because you have to talk to me.” Because I want to talk to you, he thought unable to form the words in the mouth.

You suddenly felt very small pressed against him and you knew he could see the heat rising in your face.

“Professional was just easier,” you whispered unable to look him in the eyes, “because I don’t hate you either. For a long time I hated having to orchestrate and present people with you-“ because they weren’t me, you thought unable to say the words out loud.

His thumb softly traced the slant of your cheekbones as you hesitantly looked back into his eyes, and unlike in the lounge you did resist the urge to close the space between you, and neither did he.

The kiss was soft and filled with the emotion of everything not said, like all first kisses should be.

“I don’t hate you at all,” he whispered whilst placing kisses to the sides of your face, “not even a little bit, not even at all.” As your lips let a second time you both felt how surely the sentiment was quite the opposite and had been for quite some time.

Ashton was the only thought in your mind, and the only word on your lips as the kisses grew sloppier and needy. He tasted like cherry syrup from the cocktails and you wanted more.

A little disoriented from the alcohol you haphazardly walked backward pulling Ashton with you until you felt the edge of the mattress press against your calves. In a fit of giggles, you both tumbled back onto the bed.

You had never seen him smile like this before, his whole face seemed brighter and you knew instantly he was thinking the same things too. You moved in a flurry of hands and touches that struggled through the haze to remove clothes.

You straddled him to slide the jacket from his shoulders and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until that too was discarded. Your hands trembled as they skated across his chest, and you felt him shiver as they were replaced with your lips. You slid down his body leading trails of kisses that stopped just above his belt buckle. The way it caught the light sent a delicious shiver down your spine and you tucked that thought away for another time.

Deftly you slipped the belt off before working on the slacks. You slowed and groaned softly upon revealing a dark red pair of lace pants under his trousers.

“Sweetheart,” you cooed teasingly as you repositioned yourself between his legs, “you should’ve led with this.” His hoarse laugh stifled into moans as you traced the lace with your tongue. Your eye wandered to the glittering bottle of champagne on the nightstand and between it and the heady look on Ashton’s face, you knew it was going to be a good night.

The next morning which really ended up being the next afternoon- you were pleased to wake up curled and tangled around a very naked Ashton. The pounding headache and dry mouth were a direct contrast.

You were thankful the curtains were still closed as the moderate darkness seemed to help the monster out hangover you were now feeling. You shifted slightly and were surprised to notice you weren’t entirely naked. You were wearing a t-shirt you didn’t remember owning. The words looked like gibberish but you gathered it was from the hotel’s gift shop.

The discovery prompted you to look around the room and you noticed something. Ashton’s fancy clothes and delightful red panties were joined by a pair of his jeans, another shirt, and an extra pair of your bottoms as well.

There were papers strewn on the nightstand and a shopping bag near the door that you didn’t remember buying. The cool air stung your bare legs and prompted you to curl back into Ashton who lazily smiled and kissed your temple as you rejoined him.

“G’morning darlin’,” he said through a yawn making you giggle.

“Do you remember going back out last night?”

Ashton shook his head but before he could say anything his ringtone cut through the silence and roused a chorus of pained groans from both of you.

He scrambled to answer it and you noticed the empty bottle of champagne on the other side of the bed, and what looked like a sacked minibar’s worth of trash with it.

I am never drinking again, you thought as the ringing subsided and your head began to throb.

“Michael wants us for brunch,” Ashton said tossing his phone back to the cluttered nightstand. You groaned at the thought of food and hoped it would be greasy enough to cut through the drunk brain fog.

You had to swing by Ashton’s room for him to get dressed making it a little later than anticipated when you finally got to the lobby. Crystal and Michael were sharing a love seat and as you both exited the elevator they erupted into raucous laughter and cheers that reverberated pain through your head.

“Aw fuck,” you hissed rubbing a hand on your temple. Ashton had an arm around your waist which kept yours from stumbling.

“Oh come on I expected a little more life after last night,” Michael called with a grin.

“I didn’t think Mikey was serious,” Crystal said, “do you have the papers on you?”

On top of them, Luke chimed in, “I got the whole crying jag on video it’ll make a hell of an update when we get back.”

You and Ashton shared a confused look and silently looked to Callum for help. He was drinking a delightful looking mimosa and sighed putting it down.

“I don’t think they remember,” he started before getting cut off.

“Awe no way! Look at them, they’re the picture of romantic bliss,” Michael taunted with a laugh.

You sighed, “come on now guys I know it’s a little odd for us to hook up but enough with the jokes.”

“Hook up?” Luke laughed, “that’s not what Elvis would have to say about it.”

You were trying not to get frustrated but it was hard. “Luke, what in the hell does Elvis have to do with anything?”

Callum cut in before the others could keep hounding you.

“Promise me you won’t freak out?”

You nodded and felt Ashton do the same.

“Alright,” Callum started slowly leaving time to gauge reactions as he spoke, “Luke and I got a call last night around 4:30, one of you were crying about how you ruined mike’s moment when you were too out of it to explain we came down here to meet you...”

As he spoke flashes of memories seemed to play in your mind. You almost remembered dialing the phone inside who to talk to, but certain you didn’t want to upset anyone.

“Apparently you’d just come in from one of those 24-hour chapels and we’re worried Mike and Crystal would be upset you stole the show.”

“Why would we go to a church?” Ashton asked slowly. Neither you nor Ashton were specifically interested in that sort of thing. Yet as he asked it you remembered stumbling through the lobby looking for something new to wear.

Your mind reeled trying to fit together pieces that you weren’t sure went to the same puzzle. You ran a hand through your hair a small ring on your hand catching in the light. You recognized it immediately as Ashton’s. Something borrowed, you thought unsure of why that mattered.

Callum shook his head as Michael dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“You dumbasses, you got married!”

You and Ashton quickly looked at each other and then back at the others and then back at each other trying to process this whirlwind of information.

The moment lingered longer than Michael found funny and without much else said you were whisked by the other happy couple off for brunch and out into a world where nothing would ever be the same.

[paintedwithapalette]

Presenting a lovely commission I recently received from @wingbladeweaver1357​ of Naminé and Kairi from my Memories of You fanfic where they’re twin sisters! I’m absolutely in love with it! 

Decided to write up a quick snippet to go along with it as well that may or may not show up in the future of Memories of You itself! Enjoy! 

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Memories of You:  Naminé and Kairi 

Word Count: 1,383

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"Knock, knock," Kairi called. "Dinner is served."

Kairi backed into Naminé's room with her hands preoccupied with a tray of grilled meat and curry rice. Naminé sat at her desk, lost in her own world as a zest of inspiration compelled her to look over her work with a great amount of scrutiny as she scribbled into her sketchbook. 

"Thank you," Naminé replied, her eyes unmoving. "Smells great. On the bed is fine."

Kairi paused. Did she hear right? For the first time in weeks, Naminé’s voice didn't sound like it was desolate of all life and energy. "So, I suppose asking you to come downstairs and eat at the table with us like a normal family for once is out of the question?"

"What was that?" Naminé asked, not tearing her eyes away from her drawing.

"Never mind," Kairi said tiredly, complying with her sister's earlier request and set her dinner on the mattress. "Just promise me you'll at least touch your dinner this time?"

"Don't worry, I will. And I'll be at breakfast in the morning. Promise," Naminé assured her offhandedly. Kairi couldn’t claim to be convinced. She had heard it a million times before. "If I don't show up, I'll do your chores for a month."

"Deal. I’ll hold you to that, you know.” 

Before leaving, she stole a stealthy glance at Naminé and took note of her seemingly more animated posture. It was far from the first time she had seen her sister absorbed in her own world. But this time, something seemed different; whether it was the way her pencil scraped against the paper sharply, or the way she chewed her lip, or the slightest bounce etched in each of Naminé's movements. It was a subtle something that only a sister of sixteen years could pinpoint.

Kairi peered over Naminé's shoulder to get a glimpse at whatever kind of artistic spectacle was in the works. "Soooo, whatcha drawin'?"

"H-Hey! Do you mind?" Naminé was quick to press her sketchbook against her chest. "You know I don't like when people look."

Kairi raised her hands in a show of no ill will. "Sorry, are my unrefined commoner eyes tainting your latest masterpiece?" 

"Why, yes. Yes, they are. Glad you understand."

Kairi scoffed. "No need to get uppity. I was just curious because you seem a bit more excited than usual."

"Excited? What do you mean by excited?" Naminé chuckled nervously. "I'm not excited. Who's excited? Are you excited? Can I not just be immersed into the wonderful world of art without arousing baseless accusations of this so-called excitement?"

Kairi snickered at the transparent façade. "Subtle."

Naminé frowned. "Don't you think your food is getting cold or something?"

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you." Kairi giggled at the dirty look from her sister and headed for the door. "Fine. I can take a hint. I'll be downstairs if you need anything." 

When Kairi turned towards the door, Naminé gave a look of gratitude and returned her focus to her sketchbook. However, when Naminé was least expecting it, her sketchbook was quickly swiped from her work station. With eyes on the brink of popping out of her skull, Naminé looked over to find Kairi making a mad dash towards her own bedroom with a most evil cackle trailing behind her. 

“Kairi!” Naminé cried, immediately rushing out of her room to give chase. 

“Sorry, little sister, but I couldn’t resist,” Kairi called, her eyes running over her sister’s sketch as she sped walked down the hall. It was an impressively constructed piece of Roxas with an insurmountable amount of attention to detail resulting in an insanely accurate depiction of the boy in question. “Aha! Just as I suspected.” 

“Kairi,” Naminé shouted, her voice coming off more whiny than anything. As Naminé chased after her sister, she couldn’t help but remember when Roxas took her most embarrassing doodles of hers when she was little, teasing her all the while. What was with these two and their incessant need to humiliate her? “Give that back!” 

“But this is so good,” Kairi said as she entered her room. Naminé hurried inside soon after and sprinted towards her sister with the intent of tackling her to her bed, but Kairi simply raised a hand to catch Naminé’s face, ignoring her muffled moans and whines as she pathetically reached for her sketchbook. “No wonder you were so focused. It’s like... almost a photograph.” 

“Thank you very much. Now hand it over.” 

Kairi gave it one last look, a wide smile spreading, before handing it back to Naminé. The bespectacled girl held it close to her chest protectively and adjusted her glasses. 

“Look, I know I might look like a bit of a weirdo,” Naminé started, “but it really was just an excuse to practice portraits. That’s all.”

“Mmm hmmmm,” Kairi mummed in disbelief. “If that’s the case, why choose Roxas?” 

“Because, uh...” Naminé stumbled. “I-I like his hair?” 

It wasn’t a lie, anyway. 

Kairi smirked, shaking her head as she set her hands on her hips. “Little sister. Have you not learned your lesson that your lies hold no weight over me, your true evil overlord?” She gradually began to speak in a dramatic tone. 

 “Would you please stop calling me your little sister? We’re only minutes apart.” 

Kairi grabbed Naminé by the shoulders and shook her. “Your meager attempts at diverging the topic of our current discussion do not sway me, woman! I know thine heart hath a penchant for the boy who hails by the name of Roxas and your denies are futile!” 

“And stop talking like that. It’s starting to freak me out.” 

“Just admit it,” Kairi said, her voice returning to normal. “I’ve admitted to you about how I feel about Sora. The least you can do is return the favor. Don’t you trust me?” 

Naminé eyed her up and down with scrutiny. “Do you really want me to answer that question?” 

Kairi rolled her eyes. “Do you like Roxas? Yes or no?” 

Naminé bit her lip as her eyes moved all over Kairi’s room in an attempt to avoid that gleam of anticipation of hers. “I... maybe, okay? Maybe. Now, will you leave me alone?”

Naminé hurried towards the door, but Kairi read her like a book and swiftly stepped in front of her as she blocked her exit. “So, you admit it!” 

“I said maybe.” 

“Which basically means you want to bear his children!” 

Naminé felt a blush sneak up on her at the accusation. “W-What...?”

Kairi snaked one of her arms around Naminé’s shoulders. “Hee hee! You wanna know what I think?” she asked, her voice returning to normal. 

“After that comment you just made, not particularly.” 

“I think you should give it to Roxas as a gift.” 

“Kairi,” Naminé said plainly. 

“I’m serious. You know how much he loves your art. I’m telling you, he’d fall head over heels for you!” 

“T-That’s not really the point,” Naminé said, her eyes running over her sketch. “Isn’t it kind of creepy? Drawing somebody without their permission?” 

“Maybe if you didn’t know the person, but we’re talking about your friend, remember? Our friend. A friend who adores everything of yours he’s laid his eyes on. Also, helloooo? His birthday is coming up next week. The time is now!” 

Naminé’s look of uncertainty didn’t waver much, her eyes repeatedly switching from her sketch to her sister’s hopeful eyes. “So, you’re saying I wouldn’t look like a creep if I gave this to him?” 

“Not at all! You should give Roxas more credit. He’s not some judgemental jerkface, and you know this. He’d be thrilled. Just have a little bit of courage and I’m sure it’ll all work out.” 

Naminé still looked unsure.  

“How about this,” Kairi continued. “I’ll be right there beside you when you give it to him. If you ever get discouraged, I’ll be right there to nudge you in the right direction.” 

“I don’t know about this, Kairi...” Naminé whispered, lifting her sketchbook over the bottom half of her face to hide her quivering lips. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” 

Realizing that Naminé was beginning to warm up to the idea, Kairi noticeably brightened and clenched her fists. 

“I’m positive!” 

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

If you’re interested in seeing more of their sisterhood, feel free to check out Memories of You on ff.net! It would mean the world to me! 

[boogiewrites]

Mae Flowers Ch. 3

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Mae LeBlanc (OFC)

Word Count:  5700+

Summary: A modern, magical Alfie Solomons AU. After revealing the truth of her powers, Alfie decides to take a look into what Mae’s life is like by going with her to her flower shop. Alfie is quickly introduced to a hardworking and certain woman, unlike the confused and aloof one he’d met the day before. He meets some unpleasant clients of hers and is introduced to Mae’s best friends and biggest cheerleaders. 

Warnings/Tags: Language.Magic/Supernatural. Soul mates. Racism, microaggressions. Protective Alfie. Some domestic fluff, getting to know you stage. 

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

The usual noise and commotion that carried over from the city in the night weren't to be heard. It was as if a calm had blanketed over the neighborhood, no sirens nearby, and no spotlights from cop cars had woken her up as they had the tendency to do sometimes. She slept hard and well and if she had dreamed, she certainly didn't recall it.

Her eyes flutter open, a hard yawn and a smack of her lips against the soft pillow clutched in her arms underneath her. She sees the sunlight coming through the curtain and grunts, greeting the day with a big stretch. She reaches out to the bedside table to read the time and for once doesn't groan when she finds it's just before her alarm is set to go off. She rolls to her back, looking at the ceiling after rubbing her eyes, wondering why she felt so rested when she hears a noise from he kitchen.

"Oh yeah." she says in a sleep laced voice, the tone of realization in it. There was a man living in her house now. She was a witch. She had powers. All the improbable things come back to her as her brain boots up. She slides the covers over her, the cool air of the springtime morning raising goosebumps across her skin, her bare thighs shivering as she places her feet on the plush purple paisley rug on the floor. She slides her feet into the rubber soled house shoes by her bed, purposely purchased so she could walk into the garden with them in the mornings. With another stretch, her back cracking and popping as she does so, feeling the age creeping in from her most recent birthday. She was thankful for the spring, in the heat and humidity her joints didn't seem to hate her as much. But this morning she wasn't met with any pain and she doesn't understand the cause for it but much stranger things were at foot right now and she wasn't going to question something going right.

She pulls up her morning playlist, syncing it up to the portable speakers in her room and kitchen as was her usual morning routine. She figures there wasn't a reason to depart from what was normal from her that much despite Alfie being in the house now. She moves to grab her knee-length robe from the hook on the back of her door, putting on clothes would be one difference though. She keeps her usual sleepwear of short sleep shorts and a tank top on underneath it, it was her house after all. The choice of the fateful shuffle button is lost on her sleepy mind as Rescue Me by Fontella Bass comes on in the mixture of sixties, funk, and soul she liked to keep her mornings light and upbeat.

Alfie is in the kitchen, looking into the seafoam green, retro looking oven that matched the other large appliances in the room. He's checking on the chelsea buns he'd made, turning back to the scrambled eggs he was currently whipping at when music started out of nowhere, causing him to jump slightly, his eyes darting around the room quickly. Percy chuckles to himself at the immortal's reaction. Some force of nature he was.

Mae shuffles her way out of her room and she's met with a very awake and cooking Alife that makes her stop and take a survey of the kitchen. She looks at him with squinted eyes, her round nose twitching, just as adorable as a rabbit he thinks, as it's hit with the smell of baked goods.

"Mornin' love." he says with a smile that she deems too cheery for this early, but she finds it infectious.

"Mornin'." she mumbles, her hand in her wild, massive curls as she scratches her head. She moves to the table and plops down, fingers smoothing down her hair that's grown twice in size in her sleep.

"Eggs and bacon?" he asks.

"Yeah, thanks." she says watching him move smoothly as if he already knew where everything was in the kitchen. Was that a power, she wondered, knowing where things were in a strangers kitchen? "You didn't have to make breakfast ya know." she begins, resting her chin in her hand, feeling her stomach start to rumble.

"I wanted us started out on the right foot today." he says with a stern nod, salting the eggs and turning to flip the bacon in the iron pan. "I don't want to be a bum so I'll be helpin' ya out however I can. You can figure out how much rent you'd like me to pay you."

She blinks, realizing she hadn't even thought about it. Some extra income would be nice for food and utilities. Another person did mean more use of the house. "Yeah I'll...figure that out today." she says with a shake of her head.

"I'll help ya with the shoppin' too. If you don't mind of course. I like to cook, and therefore like to eat a lot as well. The work takes it out of ya. You'll come to learn that soon."

"That'd be great, thanks." she says with a softer expression, watching his face focused. He seemed like a decent man. He hadn't killed her in your sleep so that first test was passed. He had already made food twice, more than any other man had ever done. Now he was insisting he pay, even though in her generosity she'd forgotten to request it. He wanted to help with the house and take care of her and she feels warm fluttering in her stomach that she's growing to like. "I like to cook too so...that'll work out nice." she says with a small nod.

She watches him in silence, her body waking up and starting to function at its normal capacity. A ray of sun appears across her from the patio doors, the sun rising and emerging out behind white fluffy clouds. She hums at the familiar warmth, shutting her eyes and drinking it in as she rises to look out the glass paned doors. The glass was already gaining warmth as she rested her hand on it.

"Ya know that's a form of drawin' power you're doin' there?" he says with a soft smile, a spatula shifting eggs around in a pan.

"It is?"

"It is." he says with a slow nod. "You draw energy from the sun. It's in the nature of your life force."

"So I really am just a slightly more evolved house plant." she chuckles to herself.

He mirrors the sound, "Now that's a gross understatement there, love." he grins. "I draw mine from the moon, best. I can draw it from the sun as well but it isn't nearly as effective."

"So I draw it from the moon too?"

"You certainly can. And because you're a woman you can draw from it much more effectively than I."

"What's that have to do with it?"

"Feminine energies are synced with lunar energy. The moon has a distinctly feminine influence."

"Like how things get weird around the full moon?"

"Exactly. It's all cycles in relation to nature though innit? With sexuality and menstrual cycles, the syncing of periods and the moon are common in witches."

"Wh-huh? Really?" she tilts her head, her face contorted in surprise and question.

"So I've been told. Never had to worry about meself." he chuckles.

"Guess you will now." she says with a swing of her head back to the window.

"All part of it, love." he muses, starting to plate the food. "Never scared me to deal with before, doesn't now. Perfectly natural." Alfie had never been a normal man to be perturbed by any normal functions of the human body. Everyone was an animal, no reason to think certain things our bodies did were unseemly. Mae found his statement reassuring, thankful he wasn't a squeamish and hypocritical sort of person. But then again, how could he be squeamish with the things she'd seen him do in her dreams?

As her pupils focus in the sunlight, she takes in the garden, her eyes narrowing quickly. "Hmmm." Alfie hears her says, unlocking the door and walking out onto the patio.

"Breakfast is almost done," he calls out, leaning to see her looking confused. He takes the buns out of the oven and sets them on the table, following her out with the oven mitts still on his hands. He walks out, head peeking out first to check the garden before standing in silence for a moment while Mae looked around with narrowed eyes. "Somethin' wrong?"

"These... blooms..." she motions her hand out to the popped bulbs of flowers along the fence, the sprouts coming out of the soil in their beds. "They weren't here yesterday." she says with a quiet voice, turning to look to him for an answer.

"Ah.' He says with a nod, surveying the space along with her. "Must be your power," he says gently. "Me bein' here is most likely stirring things up. We're charging each other up it seems, making the other more powerful." She watches him look at the ground and his brow furrow. "Yeah that seems to be it." he says in a less enthusiastic voice. She looks down to see what made his tone switch, the paved back portion of the patio was covered in dead worms. It was as if a storm has come through and they'd fled, but they were lifeless on the still cold rock.

"You do that?" she asks with worried eyes looking over where she stood.

"Seems mine are sneaking around a bit as well. Radiating out it seems." he sighs, seeing the subtly distraught look on her face. He didn't have a choice but to be associated with death as per his soul's origins but he didn't like the look he received when other magical humans saw what he could do. "Sorry 'bout this. I know they gotta help with the flowers 'n that." he takes off the oven mitts and rubs his forearm on his forehead. "I'll get you some more, how about that? I'll run by some bait shop somewhere and pick up some as to not upset the balance of your work here." he offers, hand now rubbing the back of his neck with an apologetic look on his face.

"Yeah I need them for the beds and the compost." she mumbles. "That'll...yeah we can get more." she takes a few steps back towards the house. "This...happen often?" she asks, glancing to him before scraping off her shoes before coming back inside.

"Not unless I mean it to. With our souls being so close in proximity their influence must've grown over the place. I'll do some spell work, make a circle to stop it from happenin'. I'd hate to interfere with your business in such a way. My apologies." he says, dipping his head and following her inside.

"It's...it's fine. I mean, it can be fixed. Nothing too bad happened. Poor worms though."

He lets a smile read on his face at your sympathy towards the dirt dwellers. Of course, you would be empathetic to every creature, it was simply in your nature. "Hope that didn't ruin your appetite," he says, locking the door behind him. "I got buns as well." he says with more cheer in his voice. He brings the larger plate of hot food and smaller saucers for the gooey icing covered buns that were cooling on the table.

"You made these?" she asks with a mouthful of bun that makes him hold back a smirk at her childish manners.

"I did."

"They're like...really, really good." she says taking a sip of tea.

"Thank you."

"You could sell these. These are amazing." she muses, taking another bite.

"I did at one time." he replies with a higher inflection in his voice, a short nod.

"You did? Did they do well?"

"They did." he smiles, old memories of the small bakery that served as a physical and monetary front for his rum distillery business back when he was a human in Camden.

"Let's take the rest of these to work. I'd like some for lunch." she says, pushing away her plate. "Do you uh...want to come to work with me? Or do you have stuff to do? I don't... know how this works." she says with a wrinkle of her nose.

"I can accompany you or I can stay here, unpack and mend the damage I've caused."

She considers her options. The extra set of hands would be very helpful for her while filing orders and continuing her inventory. "Is it okay if you come with me? I could use the help."

"Absolutely, love, I'd love to see your work."

"I mean...I can't afford to pay you or anything but-"

"No, no! Don't be ridiculous, I'll help ya out for nothin'." he gives her a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Really?" she says with a clearly grateful expression. "Thanks that would be...I could really use it." she admits, looking away and chewing on her lip.

"Spending time together, gettin' used to each other is good for us right now. Help get to know each other better, yeah?"

"Yeah. We went about things all ass backwards so I suppose we need to like...bond and stuff? That part of the soul mate thing?"

"Yes. We are separate from our souls by means of personality but they'll enjoy being together in close proximity while we figure out all the tedious human things about each other." he chuckles.

"After tomorrow I have a day off so...we can talk about what we need to do then. But in the meantime, I've got some orders to fill and deliver today."

"We can take my car if that would help."

"Man, would it." she says with a thankful and exasperated face. ------------------------------

For the first time, she gets driven to work and takes in the scenery of the other side of the road that she's usually on. The ride is quiet, but she doesn't mind, she usually used this time to reflect anyway.

"Ya do 'is?" he asks, standing in front of the car and pointing to the mural on the side of the building.

"Oh, no. I wish." she says with a soft huff of air, looking for her keys in her work bag. "Had a guy who needed some flowers, offered to paint it for a big discount and I took him up on it."

"It's quite good. Decent trade-off I'd say. Really adds somethin' to the place." he nods, keeping his eyes on it until they enter the store.

"Thanks for locking up and everything yesterday." she says sheepishly, recalling passing out cold.

"Oh, no worries, love. Wasn't about to leave your livlihood unattended in such a way." he waves his hand dismissively.

"I need to count and refill the till...I'll be a little behind because of yesterday..." she says with no malice meant, just merely a statement of fact, laying her bag on the back countertop underneath the kelly green cupboards filled with supplies.

"I am sorry 'bout how all that went down yesterday Mae..." he begins.

"Oh! I wasn't being passive aggressive about it!" she says with a nervous laugh. "I just...if you're gonna help you need to know what's goin' on, right?" she says with a shrug.

He smiles and is pleased to see she is all business while she's here. No wide-eyed aloofness as he'd seen back at the house. She was in her element, clearly. "Absolutely," he says with a wide closed mouth smile that raises his cheeks and makes his eyes crinkle at their edges. "Do go on, love."

The smile catches her off guard, the softness of it. And for it to be directed at her. Had a man even ever looked at her so sweetly before? The calm body language, the soft even lilt of his voice, only sounding softer in comparison from his accent. All this was so new for her. She wasn't used to men being gentle and kind with her. On top of that, he kept giving her these weird pleasurable rumblings in her stomach and chest. She was feeling prickly, like an electrical current barely strong enough to notice was running through her now that she was surrounded by her plants and him. There were so many firsts coming at her at once but with him near she didn't feel as anxious about them as she would have without him. Which logically made no sense, he was a stranger and shouldn't have any kind of calming effect on her. But here she was, feeling happy and at ease around a man she didn't know. She knew there would be lots of firsts to come with his appearance in her life but she hoped that most of them would be as pleasant as this. -----

He ran deliveries so she didn't have to leave the shop, he conditioned and cared for all the flowers, handled the new shipment and unboxed it, as she created and manned the phone and front. Having him there has been such a relief she hadn't expected. She found it easy to communicate with him, he understood her short and sometimes angry sounding orders with a nod and brisk movements. By the time the end of the day was rolling around, she was wondering how she'd done all this work alone for so long.

Everything was going swimmingly, the end near for the completion of a hard but successful day. That is until two of three labeled "white girls" came into the shop.

"Hi, Mae." Tiffany says, her over teased bleach blonde hair sitting high and obnoxious in a hairspray stiff halo around her head. She had her Chanel bag on the counter, sifting through it

Mae feels the hairs stand up on the back of her neck before she hears Alfie's boots on the tile floor coming up behind her.

"And WHO is THIS?" Jessica says, chewing her gum and twisting her hair around her finger. She was probably the worst of the three, being recently divorced, a husband successful after the marriage and with no prenup she took him to the cleaners. But it seemed with the end of her marriage, came the end of her confidence and self-respect driven behavior. Her hair was teased high with a plethora of extensions attached just like Tiffany's. She'd bought boobs, a tummy tuck, a new nose and lips with some of the divorce money. And it wasn't all done subtly or particularly well. Not that Mae was against that in particular, she just didn't like the openly crude things she'd talk about loudly in public where everyone could hear. Or the way her nipples almost popped out of her shirts she wore them so low. Mae was starting to think that in itself was something she got off on. It just made Mae uncomfortable. But Mae wasn't exactly comfortable with expressing anything with her own sexuality, so it was a personal hang up.

Alfie could literally smell the bullshit coming off these women when they walked into the store, fogging up the air with their self-entitled importance. He could hear their thoughts, the way they spoke of Mae's curly hair, the way they thought they were better than her. Alfie was in guard dog mode and it was as if he didn't even have a choice in the matter.

"This is Alfie. He's..." she blinks and stutters for a moment. "...my new employee." she finished with a nod of her head.

Alfie's walks up with his back straight and wiping his hands on a rag, eyeing her with a low brow in a not friendly way.

"So just a workin' relationship then?" she smirks, almost resembling a cartoon wolf with her tongue rolling out of her mouth and smoke coming from her ears. Except she has the end of her sunglasses in her mouth, her plumped up lips wrapping around the end while she eye fucked him from across the counter.

With a glance to Alfie, Mae could tell he was not into it. 'What's a big hunk of man like that doin' with a little low-class girl like her?' she thought to herself and Alfie's nostrils flared and twitched. 'Not like she'd know what the hell to do with him.'

"Our friend Mae here was kind enough to give me a job seein' as I'm new in town, yeah? She's helpin' me get set up, innit ya love?" he asks, turning to face her, a gentle hand on her back, trying to get a clear read on how these girls made her feel, as she'd clearly dealt with them before. He felt the hesitation, the dislike, the forced courtesy as flashes of them insulting and taking advantage of her kindness flash across his vision.

"Oh, WHERE is that accent from? I just LOOVE it." she coos, pushing her chest together and leaning on the counter as he quirks an eyebrow at her before rolling his eyes.

"Where do ya fuckin' think? I'm bloody English! Ya daft?" he asks, leaning forward, brow low and lip almost snarled in a microaggression. "This one slow?" he asks Mae, a limp and unenthusiastic hand motioning towards Jessica. Mae's jaw goes tight and her eyes widen, lips tight she tries not the laugh or agree with him. But she certainly wasn't going to stop him.

Jessica blinks in surprise, standing up straight, placing her hand on her hip for a boost of confidence. "I'm afraid I don't know much about accents over there." she tries to bat her eyelashes and play dumb, once again Alfie counters.

"Doesn't surprise me you don't know ya basic geography." he says with a raised brow and a low tone that signified no hint of playful teasing. Mae tries not the smile, Tiffany looks at him with confusion. Jessica keeps chewing on the end of her glasses, Alfie now focusing his attention towards the other woman. "What ya want? Ya got an order to pick up or ya makin' one?" he asks with an indifferent tone.

Tiffany nods, "I came to get the mum's for my daughters birthday." she begins. "She'll just be turnin' one and she's just the cutest little-"

"HERE YA GO!" he says in a deep grunting voice, interrupting her and setting the large crystal vase on the countertop. "Beautiful work as always, Mae." he says with a supportive nod. "That'll be $65 for the vase, mums, carnations, pink roses, asters, baby's breath and the greenery. RIght, love?" he turns in closer to Mae.

"Oh, he's knows what he's talkin' about doesn't he?" Jessica coos again.

"Just ya basic maths, yeah? Not that impressive to anyone with much sense." he adds curtly, nodding sharply and diverting his attention away again.

Mae blushes and looks down to the register with a nod and a tightly pulled together smile.

Tiffany nods, feeling the awkwardness between her friend and the new employee and pays Mae the flat price.

"And here's a little extra for the...hard work." Jessica says sliding a twenty across the table at Alfie.

He stares at the bill with the same grumpy look on his face, then moves his eyes only back up to her. "Mae's the one what done it. She's the artist who's work ya buyin'. Ya ain't buyin' me." he spits out, pushing the vase towards the other woman who is starting to frown despite the botox. "It's 'bout closin' time now. We got shit to do. Very busy. Get on with ya now." he orders, a sharp nod in their direction.

Tiffany takes the vase into her arms and awkwardly shifts her eyes between the two people behind the counter before turning on her heel and walking out. Jessica lingers, biting the end of her glasses, another quickie of an eye fuck and she too turns, wisely keeping her mouth shut and leaves.

"Yeah." Alfie gruffs out, finger pointing to them walking down the sidewalk. "That woman's a right cunt." he says locking the door behind him, heavy footsteps showing his annoyance as he flips the sign aggressively.

"Alfie!" Mae almost squeaks in shock at the word.

"Eh...it ain't as bad a work where I'm from." he gruffs out and moves back to the counter. "But I would call her 'at any where." he says with high brows. "Fuckin' awful that one." he says with a disgusted look on his face. "No self-respect a 'tall." he says in a high pitched voice.

"How'd you know they-?" Mae begins to ask.

"I could hear their nasty thoughts. No just 'bout me love, but you. Innit no one gonna even think 'bout you like that s'long as I'm 'round, yeah?" he places his hands on her shoulders, giving one a gentle pat. "Fuckin' awful humans." he grumbles, shaking his head and heading to the back of the store to finish labeling orders.

Mae blushes again, she couldn't recall the last time she'd gotten so hot in the face. He was so... protective. So...nice. Well, nice to her anyway, and that was what really mattered. He was mean enough to prove a point but not mean enough to make them leave her business. Plus, she knew she had the best prices around and they would be back after not being able to bargain at a big box store. She stands and blinks slowly in thought, looking out the corner of her eye as he moves around the back rooms. The first man that wasn't a guardian to be so nice, kind and gentle, even though that wasn't common either. Now he was the first to defend her without her even asking him to. She couldn't really help but feel hopeful about this new relationship, and the magic hadn't even started yet. ------ They come straight home after he hears Mae's stomach growling as they ride home. He declares he's going to make dinner and he'll deal with the worms and the power circles and everything else tomorrow. He didn't want to stress her out and he wanted to take care of her. He could defend her from racists and generally shitty people and he could feed her, so that was his plan as of right now. He'd felt the power she'd been moving around with all day, she must've been tired a lot before, he thinks. She outputs power around the plants without realizing, constantly thinking about them, worrying about them and tending to them. It was all leaking out of her and he figured he'd first need to help her identify when she was using powers, as she did nearly constantly and that wasn't something she could keep up forever. She needed to turn it off and take care of herself sometimes.

He pulls into the barely there driveway, or just barely big enough for his oversized car. He still loved it though.

A pair of neighbors are waiting on their porch as they pull in, immediately trotting across the street as fast as their elderly legs can take them, holding a plate of peanut butter rolls. Which happened to be one of Mae's favorites.

Alfie's ears prick up, turning to see the two elderly ladies crossing the street towards them.

"Friends of yours?" he asks quietly as Mae walks around the car to stand beside him.

"Best friends." she says softly with a smile.

As they approach Alfie can feel the good vibes and love they come with and his mind eases.

"Tall one is Nancy, short one is Ruth." she says with a big smile, taking a few steps towards them.

"Hello pumpkin'!" they both coo out, coming in to hug her from both sides.

"Your hair is gettin' so looong." Ruth says, patting her cheek.

"We brought you your favorite as an excuse to see who this handsome man is we saw coming out of your house this morning." Nancy grins, raising her head with its short grey hairstyle. Nancy was always the straight shooter.

"And I should ask who are these lovely ladies I've never seen before?" he grins extending his hand to Ruth first.

"Oh my goodness!" she blushes and giggles. "What a sweet boy!" she praises with a smile so big her eyes shut and taking his hand that she covers with both of his.

"Miss...?" he asks.

"Ruth dear!" she says cheerfully.

"And you miss?" he asks reaching out for Nancy's hand who takes it but is as always, far cooler and collected about it.

"Nancy. Call me Nance." she says with a single nod.

"Ruth and Nance. I am Alfie Solomons. 'Ello. " he says with a booming and attention demanding voice that was clearly charming the pants right off Ruth and was even earning an eyebrow wiggle Mae's way from Nance.

"Far from home ain't ya?" Nance says in a friendly tone.

"Yes, ma'am I am from Camden, London." he says politely with a nod. "I am new in town and your darling Mae here was kind enough to let me rent out her guest room to stay in." Before any other questions can come out of their mouths, and there was an impressive amount bumping around in their heads, "We have a mutual friend who vouched for me ahead of time."

"Ahh." they both say, looking over and nodding in unison.

"He's helping me out at the shop too." Mae adds in, holding the plate of rolls.

"Oh! A handy one." Nance says, sizing him up. "That will certainly be useful." she muses.

"I plan to, ma'am." he grins that charming smile and they're sold.

"He's been pretty useful so far." Mae chimes in.

"I made your favorite dear!" Ruth chirps.

"I already told her, hun." Nance corrects her.

"Oh yes. The humidity was perfect for them, couldn't pass up the chance." she says patting the saran wrapped sweets.

"Also had to check in on our girl Mae. We watch her like hawk, mind you Alfie."

"Watch away!" he chuckles. "I won't be any trouble, I promise." he says with a single nod.

"How long are you stayin'?" Nance begins her questions.

"As long as Mae will have me I suppose. I'm here for the long haul, work visa and all. Needed a change of scenery from where I was so I came to the states. Did some travelin' for a bit, met Mae's friend on an online discussion board about flowers. Ya see me mum worked with flowers, so I'm familiar. And when I decided to head down south I was directed to our lovely little Mae here who has been a most gracious host I must say."

"She is a sweetheart." Ruth smiles. "She can cook! Have you cooked for him yet, baby girl, you really should!" she says enthusiastically, leaning in and lowering her voice to a loud whisper, putting her hand to her mouth to hide it "Way to a man's heart is through his stomach ya know." she nods like it was the first time Mae would've ever heard the saying.

"I was planning on cooking with him tonight actually, that's what we were on our way to do. But I won't have to worry about dessert now will I?" she smiles happily.

"We won't keep you kids then." Nance says, tugging the back of Ruth's cotton dress.

"I'll bring back the plate soon." Mae adds in, taking a few steps back, Alfie following her lead.

"You be good! We'll come over sometime and we'll all have to catch up. I wanna know more about you Mr. Alfie! You better take good care of our little sweet potato pie there!" Ruth says as Nance continues to tug her back, now by her arm.

"Lord mercy Ruth, act like you ain't desperate." she laughs, turning the other woman around.

"Well I'm closing in on 70 and I want her married. Don't do bringin' the Lord into this!" she says with a raised finger.

"Oh, hush. You'll be prayin' about it later, don't you act like you won't."

"Of course I will! Did you see him? My word." she says with a little noise of enthusiasm afterward.

Alfie and Mae stand with tight lips, trying not to laugh as they wait for them to cross the street before heading into the house.

"What a couple of characters." he laughs, taking his shoes off.

"They mean well. They're darlings. And damn fine poker players. They'll win the shirt off your back." she giggles.

"How do you know them?"

"They were friends with Bessie and Charles that owned this place. So they've known me since I was a teenager."

"Some time then yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I got the house a little over a year ago and I hang out with them sometimes. They're nice and funny. Well-intentioned." she says with a shrug, setting the plate on the table.

"And these are?"

"Peanut butter rolls. They're hard to make so they make 'em for me since I failed the first time." she laughs. "Try one. It's powdered sugar and peanut butter basically."

He takes one and tears away a piece."Oh bloody hell that's sweet."

"Very."

"You southerners love your sweets dunnit ya?"

"Oh yeah." she says with a big grin and a nod.

"Ya gonna need those calories to keep up with the work you're gonna be doin'." he says with a huff of a laugh.

"Good. Because I love these." she says popping the other half of the piece he ate into her mouth.

"What ya wanna do for dinner dear?" he asks, rubbing his hands together. "Shall I make something from home? From my travels? You wanna teach me somethin' 'bout your soul food?" he asks with a shake of his head.

"Yeah. Let's make some comfort food. I'm starvin'. We worked hard today. We earned it."

"What ya wanna make?"

"Let's keep it simple. Some shrimp ‘n cheese grits." she says, moving to the fridge.

"Whatever you say sweet potato pie." he laughs.

@jaegeeeeer @negansdirtygirl22 @brianaisasongbird @hardygal69 @emerald-bijou @captstefanbrandt @coolgh0st @tinastarkandco @stylishmileage  

[timeoutforthee]

Like it or Not-Chapter 15

Taglist: @itsausernamenotafobsong, @sea-blue-child, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @princeanxious, @uwillbeefoundtonight, @zaidiashipper, @arandompasserby, @levyredfox3, @falsett0, @error-i-dunno-what-went-wrong, @scrapbookofsketches, @podcastsandcoffee, @helloisthisusernametaken, @amuthefunperson, @michealawithana, @yamihatarou, @heck-im-lost, @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur, @idkaurl, @bubblycricket, @fnp-alizay

Summary: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil are all struggling in their recovery. Their doctors, Thomas Sanders and Emile Picani think they can help each other out.

Aka Group Therapy AU

Trigger Warnings: referenced self harm, discussion of self-hatred

Looking back on it, Patton won over Paisley and Julia before he even spoke to them, back when they first started the adoption process.

They had agreed to look at all possible choices-no matter what age, what gender, what state of health. They were going to find the perfect fit for their little family, and putting restrictions on who that could be seemed...unnecessary. So when their case worker told them that they had finally, finally, found a child they thought would be a good fit, they set up a meeting as soon as they possibly could.

They were meeting him at a park, with their caseworker and his previous foster family. They had expected him to be on the playground, swinging from the swings, or running through the fake castles. Instead he was at the picnic table with the adults, a stack of paper on one side of him, and a box of crayons on the other.

When he heard footsteps, his head jerked up, making little blonde curls bounce. He smiled.. “Hiiiiiii! Are you Miss Paisley and Miss Julia?”

“We sure are,” Jules had replied, already slipping in across from him. “Are you Patton?”

“Yep!” he giggled.

The foster family held out hands, introduced themselves, and they all followed the rules to ensure Patton was going to be safe and happy. But Paisley kept finding her eyes falling to him, to all the scribbling he was doing. Of course, they weren’t scribbles to him, and finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Whatcha drawing?”

Patton looked up, and then held up his drawing. “Issa cat! For Val!”

“Val is another foster kid we’ve taken in,” his foster dad said.

“I’m makin’ drawin’s for all my brothers and sisters,” Patton said. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, “I can make one for you!”

Paisley thinks the right thing to do here is say no, that’s okay, but also she doesn’t want to discourage his creativity.

Also, screw it, she wants a picture.

Patton puts his cat drawing aside, tucked safely under the crayon box with the rest of them so the wind doesn’t blow them away. He stares at the blank piece of paper, and then, carefully, he draws a big heart. He colors it in red, gently, and stays inside the lines as best he can. “A heart for the Harts,” he announces and hands it over. Then he goes, “I can make you one, too, Miss Julia.”

“I would like that very much,” she says, already amazed by this child, “But I would really love it if you could just call me Julia.”

Patton frowns and looks to his foster parents.

“It’s okay, Patton,” they say.

“Okay...Julia and Paisley,” he says, slowly. Then, again, he traces a big heart on the paper, this time it’s pink.

The rest of the meeting is centered around what their next steps might be if they want to continue. Jules and Paisley share looks, because they already know this child is the one that’s been missing in their life.

On the way home, Paisley starts sniffling, which catches her girlfriend completely by surprise.

“I just love him,” she says, which makes Jules smile.

“Good, because I do, too,” she says, leaning over and pecking Paisley on the cheek, “And I love you. And I think this may work out.”

^

Paisley is not sentimental. Stuff is just that-stuff. But she’ll be damned if she ever gets rid of that heart drawing.

It used to hang up in the bedroom, but now it sits in the top drawer of her nightstand. Sometimes she holds it, as if it’s some sort of anchor.

She holds it on the night her girlfriend dies, before they’re even legally allowed to become wives. She holds it and cries, knowing the next morning she’s going to have to tell their son that she’s all he has left now and that feels so empty.

She holds it the first time Patton tells her he hates her. It starts with a big fight, and she honestly can’t remember the trigger, but he hurls the words at her like weapons, stomps off and slams the door, and she feels like ice. She doesn’t cry, knows that if she does he’ll let the guilt eat him alive. It doesn’t matter, because it does anyway, and he ends up slipping a note under her door explaining he’s been hiding the fact that he’s pansexual and he doesn’t know what to do and he’s scared. She lets go of the drawing and goes to hug him instead.

She holds it at four in the morning after she finds Patton on his knees at midnight. She knows she’s not going to work, she knows he’s not going to school, and she knows she’s going to search all day the next day to find a mental health center that can take him. But besides that, she’s completely lost.

She holds it every night, hoping that one day she won’t hear the creak of his steps as he makes his way down the stairs. She aches for it everytime he lies to her.

Paisley works in a hospital as a phlebotomist. She’s not connected to the mental health side of things, but she’s able to follow some leads, do some research, and find out whatever she can about this illness her son has. And she hates it, because everything she finds tells her all she can do is be there for him, and she’s trying but it’s not working. Is there something wrong with her? Should she find a different therapist? No, this is a process, and this new doctor is trying some new methods, so they’re making progress, it’s just slow. She thinks.

All the research has shown her one thing: Patton really, really hates himself.

And she can’t fathom why, because since the moment they’ve met, she’s loved him. She loved him so much it hurt.

^

“Mom? Are you...okay?”

Paisley grips the steering wheel a little tighter, breathes a little deeper, then says, “Of course!”

Patton frowns before looking out the window of the car, and she wonders why, why he still feels the need to look after everyone else when he’s the one who’s hurting so badly.

“It’s just,” she says, knowing if she wants him to be open and honest, she must first be open and honest. Unfortunately, she’s not very good at being open and honest, that was always Jules’s territory. “I’m worried about you.”

“Oh, don’t be!” Patton looks over, eyes bright, “I really like group, it’s really helping me.”

“Is Dr. Sanders helping you? Do I need to find a new one?”

“No, no,” Patton says, “He’s really helping, too.”

She wants to ask him why he’s lying to her, but she doesn’t know if that’s the right move. Really, she doesn’t know anything.

That’s what she thinks when Patton gets out of the car and waves at her. She drives over to park, where she’ll wait for him for the entire session. Just like always.

^

Logan is realizing his new friends are not very subtle.

This is something he realizes when Dr. Picani comes in and asks “what’s new?” and they all respond by looking at him. He sighs. He might as well get this over with.

“I skipped my appointment this week,” he admits.

“Yes, Dr. Sanders mentioned you didn’t show up,” Emile responds, pulling out the notebook, “You say you skipped it?”

“I did,” Logan says, “I had a temporary lapse in judgment.”

“So, is this lapse something you wanted to talk about now or in your individual?”

“I don’t see why I need to talk about it, it’s over.”

“Yes, but if we don’t know what caused it, then what happens if it happens again?”

“It won’t,” Now everyone is avoiding eye contact. “What?”

“Logan, let me ask you a question that I hope you feel comfortable sharing,” Dr. Picani starts, pushing his glasses up with the end of his pen, “How long have you been suffering from your eating disorder?”

“...Three years,” Logan responds.

“Do you think habits, and the things you’ve taught yourself, can be unlearned in a few sessions?”

“Well, I would like it to be,” Logan says, bluntly, before taking a moment to reflect a little more, “I think that’s part of the issue. Healing is going to take so much time, and so much strength, and I just...don’t think I can do it. It’d be easier if I just didn’t have an issue in the first place. So I convinced myself I didn’t.”

“The fact that you’re aware of that is good, Logan,” Dr. Picani says, “I also find it interesting that last session you were talking about invalidation, and you got to the point where you were attempting to invalidate yourself.”

“I...didn’t look at it that way.”

“What happened when you told your mom you weren’t going to therapy? Did she fight it all?”

“No, she forgot about the appointment. She was just grateful we didn’t actually need to leave.”

“So she sees this as more of a chore than something beneficial for you?”

“I...guess,” Logan says, slowly.

“Well, I would like you to discuss this more in your individual with Dr. Sanders, but I think this ties in nicely with what we were planning on talking about this time, which was your support system.”

“Didn’t we talk enough about that last time?” Virgil speaks up.

“Well, as we can see, it’s very clear support systems can have be very impactful.”

“So? We have this now.”

“Well, yes, but ‘this’ is not going to be as helpful if you don’t utilize it.”

“But...we are utilizing it?” Patton says, “Aren’t we?”

“You are using it in a way by showing up,” Emile says, “But I want you guys to realize just how safe you are in here. I want you all to feel like you can talk about anything.”

Virgil thinks back to yesterday, to the cuts on his thigh, and ducks his head, letting his hood fall down over his eyes.

“Patton, Virgil, you’ve said you feel you have a fairly stable support system-”

“Hey! I do, too!”

“Of course, Roman. A fairly stable support system in your family, and you all have the teacher whose room you’re utilizing. You have me and Dr. Sanders, and, of course, you have each other,” Emile says, “So, with all that in mind, if something were to trigger you, where would you go?”

Everyone goes silent.

“I just...I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, you know?” Patton says, “A lot of this stuff feels so...heavy, all the time. I don’t want someone else to have to carry it like I do.”

“But wouldn’t that make it easier to carry?” Virgil asks.

“I...don’t know. And I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone to find out.”

“It does hurt, in a way,” Virgil admits, “To see people you care about suffering, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to help.”

“I find it interesting that you’re the one to say that, Virgil, since Violet has also expressed she wants to help you, yet you don’t feel like you can trust her.”

“That’s different,” Virgil says, immediately.

“How?”

“Because I don’t know her,” Virgil says without thinking. And shit. Now everyone’s expecting an explanation, “Violet is my aunt, but my dad and I were kinda isolated from our family, and she just sort of swooped in one day and since then she’s been making decisions that she thinks are best for me, without even asking me, by the way, and-” he shakes his head. “It’s different.”

“Do you think it’s possible that, even if she doesn’t know you, like you say, that she could care?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know why else she’d be going through all this. But she might also just want to be absolved from her guilt.”

“What does she have to feel guilty about?”

“Nice try,” Virgil says, “But we’re not talking about that today.”

[takadasaiko]

Howl Until it Hurts: Chapter Twenty-Five (a Rowdy 3 fic)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Martin finds out why they're too valuable to kill and Cross gets the tattoo he's wanted.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Any Time Soon

It didn't take long for Martin to find out why he'd been released. Just as Priest had said, he was too valuable to kill. Apparently he was too valuable to leave in solitary confinement too. Blackwing upped their security - more guards, gassing them whenever they were being moved, restraints, and the list went on - and ramped up the testing. Up until that point the Rowdy Three had been told that the goal was to understand their abilities. The part about helping them had been dropped sometime over the years, but the goal had always been, as far as Martin understood it, to study. Now, it would seem they'd convinced whoever had the deeper pockets that they could weaponize them.

Over the course of the time that Martin had been in the custody of Blackwing he'd endured test after test. It wasn't that any of them had been particularly pleasant, but some of the new tests were taking it to whole new levels. They had started with his brothers while he'd been locked away. He hadn't noticed the first night he had been back - all he'd wanted to do then was sleep and be certain that he wasn't alone anymore - but he caught a glimpses of the relatively new scars they still hadn't talked about the next night as they all stripped off the jumpsuits to toss on the lightweight, pale blue shirt and pants that Blackwing provided to sleep in. Whatever Blackwing was trying to find through them had begun with Gripps and Cross, and they had new marks to prove it. It still made his blood boil to think about it, but none of them had gotten a straight answer as to what, exactly, they were looking for yet.

As many new tests as they were running, it seemed like they were on repeat of some of the old ones too. Martin wondered as he pulled against the straps holding him onto the table if they'd simply replaced all of the old employees with Blackwing with new faces and they were just going off of the charts that they were handed without any real understanding as to what they were doing. Maybe no one really knew what was happening. The thought amused him as he closed his eyes, feeling the sting of the needle in his arm as it pulled more blood from him for tests.

"Exactly what is it that you're tryin' to do here?" he asked after a long moment, the words sticking a little in his mouth. He was tired. It'd been a long day anyway and this was just making it that much longer. It took him a beat longer than it should have to realize that the tech simply wasn't answering and he cracked one eye open. "Hey. You. You not allowed to talk to us now?"

The lab tech cleared his throat, looking very nervous. "I'm not sure you'd understand the-"

"I'm a clever guy. Try me."

That caused the other to frown, focusing through his glasses at the tubes of blood they'd already drawn from the blond Rowdy. "We're attempting to replicate your… condition."

"Ain't in the blood."

"You have no way to know that."

"Oh yeah? Then whatcha people been drawin' it for for once a week since I got here six years ago?"

Another nervous sound came from him, covered by a cough. "There have been some leadership changes. They believe that it is a viable avenue to explore."

Martin snorted and laid his head back. "You people are takin' this vampire thing way too literally." There was a pause and he shifted, trying to get a good look at the dark haired tech. "Ain't nobody want to be like us."

"It doesn't matter what they want," came the immediate answer as he slid another vile into his set and left without another word.

The days blurred together. Some days the tests were run with his brothers, others separately. They huddled together at night, the bunkbeds mostly useless these days. Every day that they were toted off for testing someone would come back in and put the mattresses back up on the bed and every night they would pull them back off to create one big pallet for themselves. Riggins never made an appearance, but neither did Priest for the most part, so there was comfort in that at the very least. Martin wasn't sure he'd be able to restrain himself from trying to kill him again now that he had his strength back.

Martin was tossed back into the room he shared with the other Rowdy Three late one night, dazed by the gas that had once left him completely unconscious. He stumbled, hit the floor on his knees, and coughed once before struggling back up and shaking it off. Gripps was lounging on the mattresses already pulled from the beds, a book in his hand, and Cross was pacing, but turned with the biggest shit eating grin that Martin had ever seen. That was both worrisome and exciting. He'd know for sure in the next few seconds. "What?"

The dark haired Rowdy was bouncing. "You know, they think we're stupid."

That wasn't what he would have expected for as excited as the younger man was. "Okay?"

"Makes it fun," Cross answered as he dug his hand deep into the pocket of his jumpsuit and produced a pen and what looked like a sewing needle. His grin only grew.

Martin chuckled at the sight of it. "You said you wanted a tattoo."

"Yeah! Gripps, please?"

"Only if Martin gives me one too. I want want too."

"I bet I can manage. Whatcha decide on, Cross?"

His younger brother circled his fingers together and peered through. "They think I don't see nothin'. Don't see what they do. I see everything they do."

The boys spent the next several hours huddled around, carefully dipping the needle into the ink and creating a new tattoo for Cross. It was simple. A circle around his right eye was all he wanted, so that they would always know he was watching them, he said. Somehow Gripps got through the whole thing without anyone coming into the room, which was a feat considering how Cross yelped when the needle moved to the thin skin covering the inner bridge of his nose. He swallowed it though. It wasn't like they were new to pain.

At the end of it all the ink was used up and they had was enough for Cross' tattoo, but Gripps seemed fine with that. They had time for anything he wanted done later. It wasn't like they were going anywhere any time soon.

Notes: I was really back and forth on Cross' tattoo for a while, but finally settled on an idea for it. I'll be curious if it's ever explained. Like so many other little details that I have a feeling have a lot more meaning behind them than we might think about on the surface.....

[some-good-meme]

Get To Know Me

Tagged by @elliox , thanks man this looks fun haha

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag however many people you want

(I would put it in the read more but idk how sorry)

THE LAST: 1. Drink: a coke i think 2. Phone call: rescheduling a doctor appointment ha 3. Text message: @elliox talking about buying shorts 4. Song you listened to: stuck in the sound, lets go probly 5. Time you cried: when i found my kitty dead.. well i guess i might have teared up a bit when a close friend left for the summer too,,,

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: haha man i cant even get someone once 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nah 8. Been cheated on: guess not 9. Lost someone special: hasn’t everyone at some point 10. Been depressed: oohhhhh yeah

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: ooohhh buddy yes

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: silver, black, that cool green

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: yeah! and i love em! 16. Fallen out of love: dont think so 17. Laughed until you cried: haha yea good times 18. Found out someone was talking about you: i mean yea but i don’t care, keep it comin 19. Met someone who changed you: honestly that happens everytime i get close to someone and i hate it but yes 20. Found out who your friends are: yeeeah sure did 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: i guess that could count

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: i think almost all??? maybe a couple no 23. Do you have any pets: 1 dog, 6 chickens, and i guess 2 kinda 3 cats now 24. Do you want to change your name: i mean i love my name,, but ive loved the name Alex ever since i could remember so idk 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: A hotel, and a heartwarming chat with a friend in the bathtub till like 4 am haha 26. What time did you wake up: i slept in till like 12 today it was good 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: drawin p 28. Name something you can’t wait for: a new start tbh, like the place i was at was good but i cant wait to be completely independent and to move on from some things

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: about a week ago 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: i think ive grown from all the bad stuff so idk, but if i had to choose one id say all the times ive just gone with the flow and it blows up in my face 31. What are you listening to right now: nothing rn cause ive been listening to the same stuff all day haha  32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: mmm dont think so 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: me not being able to tell people how i actually feel !!! 34. Most visited Website: youtube probably cause music hah

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: yeahh, theres moles here 36. Mark/s: couple scars i got for really dumb reasons like burning myself while making cookies or falling off a treadmill hahah 37. Childhood dream: always wanted to be a mermaid , still love mermaids hah 38. Haircolor: brown rn, a little bit of bleached ends 39. Long or short hair: he short  40. Do you have a crush on someone: yea i guess a little one

41. What do you like about yourself: mmmm being able to make friends  42. Piercings: 5 on my ears and one nose ring 43. Bloodtype: ha i really should know this buuut

44. Nickname: smelly haha, oh and asshole alice i think is one 45. Relationship status: there was potential but she lives in Washington (im in Minnesota) 46. Zodiac: aquarius  47. Pronouns: really any i dont care, but i mostly use she/they 48. Favorite TV Show: x files is always good

49. Tattoos: im thinking of getting the solar system around my arm

50. Right or left hand: right 51. Surgery: dose a root canal count ? 52. Hair dyed a different color: used to be orange 53. Sport: used to be in gymnastics 55. Vacation: love Mexico 56. Pair of trainers: uhhhhh nope

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: nothing rn 58. Drinking: kinda want some water 59. I’m about to: go downstairs to get some water probly 61. Waiting for: idk to get tired so i can finally sleep i guess 62. Want: $$$! and cats! oh and friends(just in general)!!! 63. Get married: eh,,, if it happens its cool if it doesn’t oh well 64. Career: gonna try to be an animator, if that fails i guess ill run away and live in an abandoned water tower or something

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: probly hugs 66. Lips or eyes: i guess eyes,,, but when those lips are good thats 👌👌👌 67. Shorter or taller: no preference i guess 68. Older or younger: also no preference  70. Nice arms or nice stomach: abs are niceeee 71. Sensitive or loud: some of both ? 72. Hook up or relationship: relationship probably 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker cause i think im the hesitant one at times

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a Stranger: nope 75. Drank hard liquor: yup

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: many times with the contacts, good thing theyr the daily ones 77. Turned someone down: a real long time ago but

78. Sex on the first date: not into that sorry 79. Broken someone’s heart: sure hope not 80. Had your heart broken: yeah, but its all good now 81. Been arrested: no but i keep having dreams of it and when i wake up i get it confused with reality haha 82. Cried when someone died: of corse 83. Fallen for a friend: ehh i dont think i knew what it was at the time but kindof ??? real lowkey tho real lowkey

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: not too much lately haha 85. Miracles: i guess 86. Love at first sight: didnt for the longest time but then it happend to me soo 87. Santa Claus: haha no sorry 88. Kiss on the first date: that just seems kinda weird idk

OTHER: 90. Current best friend name: ive got a lot of friends and i dont like ranking them but some are @elliox, @nart-snart, @deez-lockz, @alieyawn, @echeveriia, @the-fourth-musketeer, @lcxiegrey, and @hackin-cactus 91. Eyecolor: hazel 92. Favorite movie: too hard to choose,, i usually just choose a miyazaki movie off the top of my head when i get asked this

I tag: hah well so many have already been tagged,,, but everyone i atted will be tagged i guess @

(if u dont wanna do it thats fine too!)