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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years

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I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏

Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖

Some group dynamic headcanons:

Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)

There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!

Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it

Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking

Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!

The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny

Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated

Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest

Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!

Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!

Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word

Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint!

Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”

Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!

Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties

There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly

The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.

They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!

One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out

#Shepherds of Haven #group #group dynamic #all characters #found family #drinking #cw: alcohol #drunk #shenanigans #party #parties #long #long post

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

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it seems boredom has taken over me due to the fact i have nothing to do but make up hcs of your universe reversal au, so here you go:

(im sorry if this is bothersome)

• if [y/n]'s va tries making a song cover of a romantic/love song with the character's voice, albedo would go overdrive and make an animatic centered around either: [y/n] x traveler or [y/n] x viewer (the other simps would also go crazy over both the cover and godly animatic ngl)

• childe would be the type to show and brag to his younger siblings about his genshin waifu/husbando/lover. teucer is usually his main listener, and he would feel prideful if teucer ever asks something about you out of curiosity or interest. definitely would go on a rant and word-vomit about how awesome and perfect you are.

• xiao's a famous and anonymous [y/n] x reader fanfic writer on tumblr/ao3/wattpad whose stories get very popular with the simps desperate for content

• zhongli bought a keychain displaying your chibi self from the official merch store. he keeps it dangling from his wallet's keychain holder (?) and is the prime reason why he remembers to actually bring his wallet sometimes. like, he's about to go outside to eat with a friend at mcdonald's or something; but he catches sight of your chibi self at the corner of his peripheral vision before he could so — and he's like: "oh hey it's my [y/n] keychain— oops, i also forgot my wallet again"

• venti would listen to [y/n] x listener videos on youtube. he might even go and commission someone for it (he might sometimes commission nsfw) (inspiration was taken from a past ask you received. thank you to the anon who gave me this idea).

• kaeya's a little shit in co-op and absolutely refuses to adjust/change his character (aka you). he's devoted to you and only you, even if your attacks aren't very effective on a particular boss/enemy (and even if said boss is immune to your attacks).

• though diluc isn't very involved with the fandom, he does occasionally look and scroll fanart of you (albedo's art usually). he may or may not have read and got hooked onto a [y/n] x reader fic (xiao's). he checks for updates once a week

• i hc that ganyu kind of has a hard time sleeping (she's overworked :(( ) since she usually pulls all-nighters, working on reports for her job. her body soon got used and adjusted to her terrible sleep schedule, so oftentimes during her day-offs; she has a hard time taking a well-deserved rest. sooooo, i think she listens to your theme song/voicelines (more specifically, the ones where you're all doting on the traveler or where you tell them to have a good night/rest). even better if your va has a relaxing song cover she could listen to and slowly fall asleep to. overall, GIVE THIS GIRL A BREAK.

-🐞

Okay, okay, ladybug anon I love you so much aldbaoakkw I love Universe Reversal brainrot so much and you're all so clever over it sksksksk

The VA thingy reminds me of either the ones Mihoyo made where Barbara or Amber interacts with the audience awww, or or they did a similar thing with Let The Wind Tell You collab with fanartists sodbksnso

I just imagined Childe bragging his imaginary waifu/husbando to a fuckin kid like a lonely degenerate omayghad

It's funny how if in this verse he is the top writer, it's divergent to the fact that @xiaowhore is the current top writer

THE ZHONGLI ONE IS THE ABSOLUTE CUTEST AND MOST ENDEARING TOO HFNBNF HE'S A GROWN MAN WITH AAN ANIME KEYCHAIN BUT THE PEOPLE AROUND HIM LOVE HIM TOO MUCH TO SHAME HIM

Venti VENTI would definitely be the type of person to buy Patreon subscription for those VA thingies and gives so much for their kofi account because they love it so much

I can definitely see Kaeya do this but but physical damage can do its work, and Kaeya can miraculously build (y/n) like 17k base attack, food buff, and then Bennett damage multiplier- he's a metaslave for his waifu/husbando

Diluc defo has an ao3 account that he keeps an absolute secret, but if you see his subscriptions, he has double digits of series and authors following

Ganyu bb :(( (Y/N)'s trailer music is much calmer than the demo so tnbee for example made a remix of it which has some of the nice dialogue mixed in, or someone made a 1 hour loop of the official stellar moment release. It's so effective that sometimes Ganyu really can't rest unless she's listening to it full blast.

Ah I love this, I love this all, this must be placed in both masterlists for everyone to see

#anon 🐞#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral #headcanons #About universe reversal #exile.goblet #exile.circlet #exile.flower #Childe #Zhongli #Xiao #Diluc #Kaeya #Ganyu #Albedo #Venti #blessed post #fluff

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popculturebuffet · 2 years

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Ducktales Reviews: The Impossible Summit of Mt Nevverest!: The Unseen

Ho ho ho all you happy people! Christmas continues with a very special christmas adjacent ducktales! It’s been a while hasn’t it? I don’t think i’ve covered ANY Ducktales episodes since I finished the season 2 story arcs. I had some planned but had to push them to the side to get paid work done because that’s what keeps me going, allows me to do this as a career, and what got me to do my lena and season 2 arc retrospectives in the first place. If you have any episodes you’ve been wanting me to tackle from seasons 1 or 2 (as I covered season 3 as it came out), that I haven’t yet hit up my inbox to comission it or if you’d like to have your way every month, join my patroen. For 5 bucks a month, you get to pick one thing I revew a month, either a half an hour or tv or issue of a comic, or in duck comics case a comic story, and it’s guarnateed. It will get done every month and you will have a spot on the schedule. So if there’s more ducktails you want retold, simply slide on into my patreon

OVER HERE

If you can’t do five, that’s fine, don’t worry even one dollar a month helps and get’s you access to my patreon exclusive reviews: I have a bunch of suplimentary scott pilgrim stuff, the second gizmoduck episode, and as a super special awesome bonus, a carl barks story about scrooge where the wig buisness leads to attempted murder, lawsuits, and this lovely image.

And if you just want to jaw about ducks to your hearts content my discord server is

RIGHT OVER HERE.

Now all my promoting is squared away, let’s talk about this episode. This one has an intresting history as it was INTENDED to be the third episode of the season, providing a nice mix of duckburg centric episodes and adventure ones, as well as providing an even focus on the cast: In intended order, each of the four main kids would’ve had a spotlight episode: First Dewey with the second half of the pilot, then Webby with Daytrip of Doom!, Huey with this episode and finally Louie with the great dime chase. Each character gets an episode of full focus on who they are, their personality, while still giving the rest of the cast plenty to do. It was well thought out. Not only that it gave us a nice spread of globetrotting adventure episodes mixed with ones set in duckburg. The creators thought this through.

Disney unforutnatley didn’t, which is a SHOCK coming from the same stuido that filmed in the same providence as concentration camps, announced their first gay character 57 times, cut the third season of a heavily loved and aclamined show short because it’s “Too Gay Not Disney Approriate”, canceling this show three seasons in due to an abrittary stuido mandate despite being able to easily go for 5 or more and thought the eternals would be great to not only anchor a film in the first place but also introduce their first major queer character in the mcu whose visably gay. I can’t imagine them fucking up bad.

Well they done did. As you likely know if you watched the show first run, the order scrambled things to fit their schedule. As I covered in my Season 1 arcs, this fucked both up a bit by giving the season a LONG gap before either progresed any due to moving the second lena episode up. There is no excuse for this and it’s lucky the order was fixed for the Disney+ release.. after being botched intitally because it’s Disney and they have to stumble through a yard full of rakes before actually succeeding at anything. It’s just how they work.

So while fucking with the story arcs was a worse offense, it did also similarly screw over one character; Huey. As I said in intended order, he gets an episode early on as the crew was decent at character ballance. It’d take them till season 3 to properly use Donald and Beakley in a season, i’ll grant that, but outside of those two glaring exceptions, they do have a good track record of giving every member of the main cast a decent amount of screentime, with of course one triplet getting a major story arc. But with this .. we have to wait till the END of the first half of the season to get any focus on him, thus making it seem like the creators didn’t care about the character as much.. when clearly yeah they did, they were just spreading it out and think on the season as a whole rather than episode by episode. So a good chunk of season 1′s issues were things that were not their fault and many viewers, including myself, unfairly put on them. And the reason fo rall this? So they’d have a christmas episode.

And this REALLY isn’t one. I’m covering it with my other christmas stuff because it TECHNICALLY counts, but really it’s just one line early on to set up the santa thing. And I give Frank credit for mastering a venture bros level of deciding to make a throaway line or small joke into an entire fucking episode. He made the santa thing a recurring thread that paid off TWICE, first with Moonvasion and again with the reveal behind it all, made a one off mention of Scrooge keeping the world serpent at bay into a wonderful wrestling episode, and even set up the fun joke of Gibious and Zenith adopting a dog and naming it good boy a half a season ahead of time. Granted unlike Jackson and Doc it’s clearly through careful planning more than just wininging it and making it look like you planned it, but it’s the same result and the same level of talent.

But I can talk about how this show feels like a spirutal succesor to the venture bros another time, and honestly intend to make it it’s own article since frankly it deserves it and I want to get more fans into both shows. Point is, this really isn’t a christmas episode, and i’m covering it over the far more christmasy “Last Christmas” purely for personal reasons: I tried scheduling both, moved it so i’d get at least one done, and picked this one for a very simple reasons: out of ducktales 69 episodes, this is the ONLY ONE I’VE NEVER SEEN.

Yeah. I simply kept putting it off for the past four years. I don’t even have the excuse with Last Christmas I did of missing watching it during the proper season and saving it like I usually do. I just kept forgetting to watch it and never set aside time for it. Simple as that. So this is the first and only time since Season 3 Wrapped I went into an episode not having seen it. I knew what happened, but even being a massive Huey fan, I just never got around to it. So this felt like it was more important and I now feel secure enough that i’ll be here next year to say “fuck it i’ll save one for next time”.

So I have a very valid reason.. Disney just wanted another winter episode despite having plenty of shows and episodes for that at the time. This came out the same year as the Star Vs Holiday Special.. which granted is hot garbage and I covered that last year, but still you had another flagship show having a holiday episode. You didn’t need this. And unlike their other shows where they stick in their fingers and go “I CAN’T HEAR YOU FANBASE YOU DON’T EXIST i CAN’T HEAR YOU”, they KNOW Ducktales crosses generations. Most guest spots got Entertainment Weekly articles, the ONLY show they’ve done it for. The show itself got a decent sized spread in the same magazine. They know adults and teens watch this but didn’t care if they tuned out of it. A first season is crucial: you can have some roughs spots but if there isn’t enough there for audiences to latch onto it could die off quickly even if the show gets better. While Ducktales thankfully got a healthy, if still shorter than it deserved, three season run, they VERY badly risked no one wanting to watch the second they already greenlit with this bullshit. Disney needs to be better. Thankfully at the very least it seems they learned their lesson and haven’t done this since.. but the fact they did it at all still baffles me.

So while there’s intresting stuff AROUND it is the episode itself any good? Join me under the cut to unwrap this one and find out! Full spoilers.. for a four year old episode of a completed tv show with spoilers about it’s ending I freely talk about.

So we open in the Sunchaser with Scrooge and the Kids in winter gear. Their mission is to climb on top of a never neverrest with their contaiminated family specfically Mt. Nevverest, the tallest mountain in the world. Louie is less than enthused both with it being christmas and with it being extra work. Huey on the otherhand is all the way enthused as he wants to get his cartography badge, and this being 20XX, most of the world’s been charted. That line’s also a nice bit of possible foreshadowing for Della’s trek into space: the whole reason for it, if you recall is because Scrooge, Donald and Della had FOUND just about every lost nook and cranny of the world. So this mountain may be his best shot.

Launchpad gets them out having once again made love to a mountain with his plane, and our heroes prepare to chart into parts unknown.. only to instead gaze upon parts tourist trap, as since Scrooge had been there a tourist industry has sprung up. This is another one of the series neat updates but in a subtle way. As I learned in one of John Olvier’s stories, turns out mountain climbing has turned into a massive boom industry... and created tons of problems because let’s face it if it turns up as the main story of last week tonight, it’s probably not something good. So what was likely a quite villiage having turned into a sizeable tourist trap is incredibly common and a nice touch of reality, as is Scrooge’s natural disgust with this.

We get the setup for Launchpad’s subplot and woo-ooo boy... this one. I’ll go ahead and get it out of the way since i’ts REALLY irrelvant to the rest of the story: Launchpad gets conned by a local dog person into thinking he might have “ice fever” a fake malady he made up to con launchpad into buying needless junk. That’s a decent setup, one we could get some good comedy out of and leads to a great moment for Louie. The problem is Louie sits out most of the subplot, so instead it’s just Launchpad, who ends up behind because he gets sent tumbling down the mountain due to getting his pack, with half our heroes suplies, caught in an arch, so he ends up just bumbling around for about 5 minutes snowblind, with Mr. Magoo level jokes about him mistaking things and panicking about his alleged disease while bumping into people and ruining their day like a jackass. That COULD be funny if done right, with actual jokes but the series seems to think Launchpad just yelling a lot and getting into blind mishaps is funny which...

The climax IS really excellent though and makes me wish this plot actually lived up to it. Launchpad bumps into Louie. If your wondering why he’s not with the others, that itself is a great bit: Louie talks about a treasure of nevverest as the fam gets ready to set out.. only to find out there’s no treasure and understandably nope out of this, somethign Scrooge probably should’ve seen coming dragging along the one child who loves money as much as he does, but it IS early in the series so him not seeing this coming is more excusable. His episode bonding with Louie comes AFTER this in proper order.

So he’s just maxin relaxing all cool when he finds launchpad, finds out he’s been scammed and in a nice character moment, gets ANGRY, saying no one messes with his family. It’s nice both because he JUST MET launchpad two episodes ago.. as well as showing that this early on Louie isn’t some greedy heartless monsterboy. He cares about the people in his life. It also is a nice early example of showing how Louie’s grifting isn’t INHERENTLy bad, it just has to be aimed at a deserving target. And the guy conning an obvious himbo is the most desreving.

How Louie beats him is just as brilliant: he simply plays up the fact Launchpad supposdly has ice fever to the crowd, making the bastard’s own lie backfire horribly.. and the guy slip that i’ts a lie. The crowd beats him up for a refund, Launchpad thinks he’s cured, and Louie goes with it because why not. It’s a ncie moment I just wish we didn’t have to put up with 4 minutes of praying for death to get there.

Scrooge isn’t phased by loosing a nephew and instead likes Huey’s enthuasim, with Huey even grabbing a tourist map to do notes on. He then brings up what turns out to be a sore spot for Scrooge: George Mallardy, a brave explorer who NEARLY got to the top but then vanished, leaving behind nothing but a handsome mustached and the legend of his partner, the nevverest ninny, a nitwit who never made it upt here. Scrooge says i’ts just a story.. a story about a VERY rich man who in no way was actually a ninny good day nephew. GOOD DAY.

Anyway, we get the setup for the better b-plot tucked neatly within the main plot, a cute little side story about Dewey and Webby. Past me would’ve loved the shipping matieral while present me wishes I could travel back there, complete with Doc Brown’s weird outfit from the end of back to the future to scream “NO THEIR RELATED NO JAKE NOOOOO.” Eh got better ships for both now anyway and if I could time travel.. i’d make my own bin to fill with digimon and medabots to swim around in while using now vintage yugioh cards to finance said bin. And pokemon too but that’d be it’s own bin and require a lot more time travel to diffrent periods and diffrnet k-marts. Start small then work your way up I say.

The plot kicks off with the most adorable scene possible as Webby sees a sled in the window on sale, buys it and then sleds down.. about half a foot before falling over comically. Dewey suggests waiting for the maximum moment... and since he shares a va with, and acts like, a mascot with attitude webby agrees to his idea to sled down mt nevverst. It mostly ammounts to Webby wanting to go now and Dewey saying not yet, but it is pretty freaking adorable with her enthuasim and him trying to paitently guide her like a big brother.. and kicking the sled out under her once, like a big brother.

So our heroes journey fourth up the mountain, with Scrooge taking loosing Launchpad and half their kit in stride. Things go well at first, as they tend to with Huey finding a forboding rock someone CLEARLY sealed something under he names bunny rock. It’s not bad as it builds up the mountain and sets us up for the episodes twist. No not that scrooge is the ninny, that’s less of a twist and more of an obvious setup for later. No i’m talking about the fact the mountain eldtircly warps, as our heroes find Bunny Rock again.

Scrooge tries brushing it off and after the second time around leaves them with no progress and a storm starting, they hide inside a cave. It’s there our heroes find Mallardy.. or rather his skeleton, hilariously wearing a “I didn’t surivvie mt. nevverest t-shit”, which scrooge brags about passing because he classy like that. His bragging reveals his hidden shame though.

And that he’s the Ninny, though the story naturally isn’t THAT cut and dry: Scrooge hired Mallardy to help him scale the mountain, wanting to do a big thing to celebrate his first million which with later reveals places this sometime in the 60s. When Scrooge was reluctant to progress due to the danger, mallardy cut him loose and thus Scrooge wanted to do this to erase his old shame with new glory. The tragedy of this is Scrooge, much like his comics counterpart did when swindled by glomgold, took the wrong lessonf rom this. Instead of thinking “well I was more prepared and right and he was uncautious and is now dead, I should be careful, while still taking risks” his thought was “Screw prepration for this one and only job I want ot get this done.” It dosen’t feel inconsitant with how this scrooge likes to be well prepared either: the fact he ISN’T bothered by loosing launchpad and dosen’t go back to get his half of the suplies if nothing else, when normally Scrooge makes sure to have plenty of kit within reason and as much info as he has avaliable, is a clear tell this is personal to him. And as we saw with Donald and eventaully will with santa, one of Scrooge’s biggest weaknesses is holding grudges. Sure he’ll gladly employ a former foe like manny.. but if you personally cross or betray him, or he FEELS you did even if he’s the one who really did the betraying, he will NEVER let it go and thus his anger blinds him as much as, ironically, it does say glomgold. The only thing that seperates them is Scrooge is capable of letting it go and of self reflection: with the right catalyist he CAN realize holding onto this shit isn’t healthy. Glomgold has about as much self relfection as a a mirror covered and mud and hung in a dark basement in the middle of a black hole.

So he wants to press on.. and finds the key thanks to webby who runs around the room. Turns out the mountain has warps in it, hence them getting looped around, to protect it’s top. WHY is never explained.. but this is one of those times where that works: by not explaning it it makes it that much more daunting: we dont know WHY it’s like this, we just know it is and it makes things tha tmuch harder. It also works because we don’t need a foe here. The antagonist in the main plot isn’t a person.. but Scrooge’s own stubborn need to erase his own failure. It’s clear by this point their better off going back, MAYBE coming back eventually but they don’t have the suplies for something like this. Scrooge keeps pressing on.. but Huey realizes that as much as he WANTS his owl goal it’s not worth it.

Huey was the perfect choice here too: the episode shows off his careful planning, as he sketches on the map as things go haywire and brings some high tech equipment, and his bonding with scrooge here is sweet, geeking out over his vintage mountain thing and both being equally determined. And it makes it that much more powerful when he BAILS. The badge isn’t worth his life, Scrooge has clearly lost it, he knows it’s time to quit and there’s no shame in that. Sometimes the biggest thing you can do is walk away. I’ve done that iwth projects realizing it woudlnt’ work or if I go back to them I need to take it from another angle. It’s not an easy thing to just walk away from something you REALLY want. But sometimes.. it’s the only thing you can do and the only thing you SHOULD do. It shows that huey’s caution, while often holding him back, can be a strength in the right situation the same way Louie’s schemes, often his own greatest weakness, can be. By knowing WHEN to quit he saves his family and snaps Scrooge out of it, Scrooge realizing that he’s gone too far and calling it off.. just in time for avalanche. A really undereated mst3k episode but a really bad thing to get caught in.

We get a nice sledding climax, Webby finds it meh, and our heroes arrive down, Scrooge being fine iwth his failure and Huey’s map blowing away in the wind.. and to the top, in a way.. reaching his goal by not reaching it.

Final Thoughts; This episdoe isn’t anythign spectacular but it’s still damn good. The plot with Huey gives him some really good character moments I wish we’d gotten sooner and the snowy setting is pure fun, from the sleddnig subplot to the haunting atmosphere in places. It’s a solid episode worth visiting.. it’s just not a christmas one. Thanks for reading

#ducktales #christmas #the impossible summit of mt nevverest #scrooge mcduck #huey duck #louie duck #launchpad mcquack #dewey duck #webby vanderquack #winter #mountain climbing

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thegreenwolf · 3 years

Photo

Betting on the Ponies (originally posted at my blog at https://thegreenwolf.com/betting-on-the-ponies/)

(Above: Breyer Classic Arabian Stallion made over into a winged unicorn with real wings from a barnyard mix rooster I raised for meat.)

If you’ve been paying attention to my social media or my shop links at all, you may have noticed that I haven’t really been posting much in the way of new hide and bone art for the past year or so. It’s not that I’ve stopped; I still make some fun things for my Patrons on Patreon every month, and I make some bone, tooth and claw jewelry on Etsy to order. But ever since events dried up, I haven’t been regularly making new batches of costume pieces or other Vulture Culture art. My usual M.O. was to make all sorts of new things for an upcoming event, and then once the weekend was done and I was home, post whatever hadn’t sold on Etsy. And since there haven’t been events…well…I’ve just found myself doing other things.

Some of that is because I’ve had to scramble to make up for the lost income; events were a pretty big chunk of my “pay”, and losing them meant having to tighten the belt. I also lost several other income streams thanks to the pandemic making it unsafe to be around groups of people, which didn’t help. So I had to rely on what was left, along with adopting a few new sources of bits and bobs of cash here and there.

And, honestly, I’ve needed a bit of a break. I’ve been making hide and bone art for over two decades now, and while I love it, any artist eventually wants to explore different media for a while. Sure, I’ve stretched my Vulture wings in new directions, going from costume pieces and ritual tools to assemblages and the Tarot of Bones. But ever since the Tarot came out, I’ve been feeling….not really burned out, but a little creatively wrung out, at least. I’ve really appreciated my Patrons and Etsy customers who have helped me keep a hand in that particular medium, while also allowing me to head off in other directions, too.

Which is to say that if you have been paying attention to the aforementioned social media and shops, you may have also noticed that I’ve been increasing the number of customized Breyer model horses and other animals I’ve made over the past couple of years. This might seem like a heck of a departure from skulls, bones, and other dead things. But in a way it’s really me getting back to long-neglected roots.

(One of my favorite customs I’ve done on one of my favorite molds, the Breyer semi-rearing mustang. )

See, I was a horse girl when I was a kid. Or, rather, I was a wannabe horse girl. I never got to lease or own a horse, and even now in my early 40s I’m still about the greenest rider you’ll find. (Seriously, I need one of those kid-proof horses that’s seen it all, done it all, and is probably more trail-smart than I am.) But I was obsessed with horses from a young age. It started with my very first My Little Pony that I got Christmas morning, 1983 (Applejack, if you must know), and then exploded further with a book on how to draw horses and my first Breyer model (Black Beauty 1991 on the Morganglanz mold) in my preteens. Horse actually took over for Gray Wolf for a few years as my primary animal spirit during my teens, so we have a very long history indeed.

And since I couldn’t have a real horse, I ended up collecting model horses, mostly Breyers with a few old Hartlands for variety. I had over 100 at the peak of my collecting, but I had to sell them all in my early twenties when I was between jobs. In hindsight it was probably for the best because having less stuff made it easier to get through the period of my life where I was moving about once a year, but I do miss that collection.

Back then I did my part to add to the artistic end of the model horse hobby, mostly with badly blended acrylic paint jobs and terrifying mohair manes and tails. But it made me happy, and that was the most important thing. Even though I only knew a couple other collectors in my little rural area, and my only real connection to the hobby was through the quarterly Just About Horses magazine Breyer put out, my collecting really made me happy in the same way that my first fur scraps and bones would catch my interest a few years later.

2020….well, it sucked. We all know that. Pandemic, political stress, financial roller coasters and more made it a really tough year for anyone who wasn’t wealthy enough to hide away and weather it all. And many of us found ourselves with more time at home, in need of distractions and solace. It ended up being a time where many people rediscovered their love of childhood hobbies. I’m one of those people. I’ve been slowly edging my way back in for the past few years, starting with repainting a few old Breyer models found at thrift stores, and then gaining momentum as I found that not only was I much better at customizing these models than I used to be, but I was having fun without the pressure to make a living off of it. (Yes, I love my hide and bone art, but when an art form is your bread and butter, it changes your relationship to it. But that’s a post for another time…)

So 2020 saw me really ramp up my customization efforts. I had to stop for a few months in summer and fall when I moved to a spifftacular new living space on the farm I’ve been working on the past few years (with, by the way, THE best studio space EVER!) but as the days shortened I found myself making more dedicated time to repainting and otherwise customizing models. I even started keeping a few of the models I’d bought to customize that were in better condition to create a small, but slowly growing original finish collection, and that really helped me feel like I was back in the (not actually a) saddle.*

That’s why a well-established artist of organic, pagan-influenced arts made from fur and leather and bone and feather suddenly started painting all these secondhand plastic ponies. It’s giving me that deep injection of childhood nostalgia balanced with adult skill and perspective, and it’s offered me a much-needed break from the exhausting schedule I’ve been living the past decade or so. Because suddenly, even with the time spent rearranging my income opportunities to make sure I could stay afloat, I found myself with a little time that hadn’t been scheduled to death, and when I thought about what I wanted to do with that time, I gravitated toward one of the few creative outlets in my life that was purely for fun.**

(Yes, this IS fan art of “The Last Unicorn”! I used a Breyer Stablemate rearing Arabian for the unicorn, and a Breyer Spanish fighting bull for the Red Bull. A LOT of fun to make this particular project.)

In a way having all my events canceled was one of the best things that happened to me, because it made me slow the fuck down. I no longer had several weekends a year where I had to spend weeks beforehand making art and otherwise preparing to be away from all my farm responsibilities for 4-7 days at a time, with all the packing and moving and setup and vending and teaching and teardown and going home and unpacking and exhaustion that goes with each event. I realized just how much each one was taking out of me, especially as I’ve gotten older. And I also recognized how much pressure I had been putting on myself to ALWAYS MAKE MORE STUFF FOR ETSY EVERY WEEK OR ELSE.

So the model horses are really sort of a symbol of the childhood joy I’ve managed to recapture, wresting time and energy back from my workaholic tendencies. I’ve even been thinking about what my professional life is going to look like once the pandemic eases up enough to allow events again, and whether I’ll put the same amount of time toward vending and and teaching at conventions and festivals as I used to. (There are a few favorites that I’m not going to miss for anything, so don’t worry about me dropping out entirely.) But for the first time in a very long time, I’m relearning to prioritize myself, and figuring out that maybe I don’t have to go hell-bent for leather every week, every year, in order to keep the bills paid and the critters fed.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s okay for this dead-critter-artist, pagan-nonfic-author, teacher-vendor-farmer, to indulge herself with something fun, and bet on the ponies to help her get through the tough times.

(P.S. Amid everything going on, I am back to working steadily on my next book, which I mentioned in this blog post almost a year ago. As a recap, its working title is Coyote’s Journey: Deeper Work With the Major Arcana, and it’s a deep dive into that section of the tarot using pathworkings with the animals I assigned to the major arcana of the Tarot of Bones. It’s not just a Tarot of Bones book, though; it’s a good way to get a new, nature-based angle on the majors in general, as well as hopefully gain a better understanding of yourself. My goal is to have it out later this year, self-pub of course, and at the rate I’m going it may end up being my longest book! Stay tuned, and if you want to get excerpts of the work-in-progress, become my Patron for as little as $1/month!)

*At the height of my “horse girl” phase, I had a really beat-up pony saddle I’d bought for ten bucks at a yard sale, and got a cheap saddle stand for it and put it in my room. And yes, I occasionally sat on it and pretended I was riding an actual horse. Hey, it made me happy at the time, and it was the closest I was ever going to get apart from a trail ride every few years.

**Yes, I do sell my customs. But I don’t make them on a schedule, I take commissions VERY sparingly, and I’m getting to stretch some new creative muscles, especially in the realms of sculpting and painting, so this is primarily for my enjoyment. The sales are just a side benefit.

(My ode to the forests of the Pacific Northwest, a Breyer deer repainted to resemble the Columbian black-tailed deer that frequent the farm I live on, along with hand-sculpted Amanita muscaria mushrooms, real and fake moss, and real lichens from fallen branches.)

#Breyer #model horses #vulture culture #artwork #artist

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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years

Text

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 3

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 1,556

Warnings: Panic Attack, themes of depression and self-hatred. Later chapters will include violence and nsfw content.

A/N:

I'm gonna try and have a pretty regular posting schedule. From now on I'm going to try posting once a day, even of its just a headcannon, I wanna post once a day now. I'M GOING TO TRY AND POST ONE CHAPTER A WEEK. Especially for this series, I'm having a lot of fun with it but Tumblr doesn't seem to like it and refuses to post it to the hashtags. Sorry, I know this chapter is kinda short, but I feel like this series deserves a slow, intense, burn.

Don't forget, I have a Patreon, where you can join my discord, vote on new projects, and make requests! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Days passed.

It all felt like a strange blur. You wondered around the abandoned house the villains called their hideout for the time being. You spent hours watching the news that Shigaraki constantly played. Despite being the daughter of the Japan’s #1 hero, there wasn’t a single report of your disappearance. You were confused.

“They’re probably keeping the investigation quiet. Y’know, so we don’t see them coming.” Dabi told you one day as you sat on the old dusty couch and watched. You watched helplessly as the group came and went, always having someone stay behind to ‘babysit’ as Mr. Compress referred to it.

You were allowed to wander around the old abandoned building the villains called their hideout. At first, you thought it was a house but now you realized it was an old office building. The villains mostly stayed in a specific part where they were made comfortable. It appeared that only a certain part of the building had power. Everywhere else was dark and cold and uncomfortable.

“Yeesh, you stick!-Take a bath!” Twice shouted at you one day. You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your hands under your arms.

“Speak for yourself! Not my fault you guys didn’t exactly grab me a change of clothes, or let me piss alone much less shower!” You shouted in frustration. It all seemed to dawn on them at once, maybe they hadn’t exactly thought this through all the way.

“Y’know what? You’re right! I’ll be right back!” Toga declared with a smile.

“Where are you going?” Shigaraki asked as he watched her head for the door.

“It’s a surprise!” She closed the door behind her and the room fell silent. Spinner soon approached only to recoil in disgust.

“Twice is right, you do stink.” He grunted.

“Thanks…” You grumbled.

“Here take this and go wash off.” He held out a raggedy towel. You were directed to a bathroom with a makeshift shower in it and told to wash off before the bathroom door closed. The water was horribly cold.

You stood under it and let the water wash over your naked body. Man, you really were dirty. The cold water soon became warmer and you lost yourself in the feeling of it. You closed your eyes and melted. Soon, the feeling of tears running down your cheeks mixed in with the sensation of your wet hair tickling the back of your neck. You crouched down and held your knees to your chest as you began to sob uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop it, the pain in your chest flowed out through your lips are you cried. You held yourself tight, your fingers digging into your legs. The pain was so intense, and your thoughts so muddied, you could see yourself sitting there, just crying. Objectively, you watched yourself and criticized.

This was all your fault, your mother and father are worried sick about you. All because you pushed yourself too hard and couldn’t fight back. You’re a mess. You deserve this. You’ll die here, they’ll kill you before you can see your parents again. You’re worthless. You can’t even protect yourself.

These thoughts only made the pain more intense, it made it worse. You sobs grew louder and louder and the pain grew and grew. It got to the point where you felt unable to control yourself. You began lashing out, hitting your own head, and scratching your legs. Then another thought emerged.

This wasn’t your fault. If it weren’t for him. If it weren’t for your father and his stupid fucking hero work, you’d be home right now. You’d be safe and sound and unbothered by this hero/villain mess. He didn’t even want you to come to Japan, so why were you here? He doesn’t even want you. And your mother, she’s the one that sent you. This was her idea. This was her fault too. Anger fed the pain in your chest and it ached. The attack on your mind and body ragged on, until you heard a knock on the door.

You felt unable to move, unable to stop. You cursed yourself again. They could hear you, couldn’t they? They could hear you crying. You expected someone to yell, but there wasn’t a voice. The door slowly opened and shut. The curtain was slowly drawn back and two eyes looked down at you. You shook violently as you looked up. Suddenly you became very aware that you were naked.

“Why are you crying?” Toga asked as she knelt down to get closer to you. You couldn’t respond. “What’s wrong? We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright. Look, I brought you some new clothes.” She reached out a hand and rubbed your naked back.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” You croaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she reassured, “you’re safe here, no one is going to hurt you. And if anyone does, you come to me, alright?”

“O-Okay.”

“Are you done washing off?” You shook your head no. “Okay well finish up and try these on. I think you’ll like it.” She set the new clothes on the bathroom counter before leaving you. You sniffled and struggled to stand, but you managed. You took deep breathes and tried to soothe yourself. You felt drained and empty now, if not a little bit better. You stepped out and looked at the clothes on the counter. They were soft and comfortable, how did she guess the right size of underwear but the wrong size shirt and pants? They were just a little big, they fit fine where it mattered, but just a little baggy everywhere else. Definitely not something you’d pick out for yourself, but it would do for now.

You brushed through your wet hair with your fingers and stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Your eyes were red and puffy, your face flushed. It made your heart race to know that everyone was well aware you were crying. You opened the door and everyone turned to look at you again. Oh god. Toga pulled herself away from what looked like a chat with Shigaraki.

“Damn! One size off! I knew it!” Toga shouted as she approached you to examine the clothes on you.

“They’re fine, really.” You mumbled to her as she pulled on the pants at the band.

“Are they comfortable at least?” She asked folding her arms over her chest.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Oh don’t mention it! Next time I’ll have to take you shopping with me!” She smiled. Next time? Take you? You stared blankly at her. She pulled you with her to sit on the couch and watch more of the news.

“You know. Now that I think about it. I don’t think he wants it out that I exist.” You thought out loud.

“What do you mean?” Toga asked. You turned to her with a blank face.

“Its always been a secret. I could never talk about my dad, even when I was little. Everyone assumed I just didn’t have a dad. Even when we came to visit when I was younger, no one knew I was his daughter. If the public asked, I was his niece. They always told me it was for my own safety. I get that now.” You chuckled to yourself. “But that’s probably why there’s no report on my disappearance. No one can know. I’m just a dirty little secret.”

“Xavier! Over here!”

Your mother called as she stood partially outside a taxi. Xavier, your “boyfriend” waved back to your mother as she dragged along his luggage.

“Ms. Y/L/N! I’m sorry I’m late! The flight was delayed, I came as soon as you called.” Xavier was a clean-cut, academic genius. He wore slacks and a button-up on a daily basis. He was incredibly smart with several degrees by his early twenties and already on his way to becoming a very successful lawyer. He was handsome, conventionally so. He was handsome, smart, thoughtful, and generous. He was everything your mother wanted for you.

But that was it, he was a gift from your mother you took reluctantly. She knew his father from work, it was all set up. You had been together for roughly a year now. You liked him enough to date to try and love even. He was nice and even fun at times. But you were lying every time you told him you loved him. You had been meaning to break it off for some time now, but you were unsure. You feared disappointing your mother, again. You were afraid to hurt him. You thought your trip to Japan would allow you to clear your mind and think about things before making a decision.

Your mother brought him back to your father. Who was far too busy worrying about you to really care to give Xavier the time of day. Xavier had a very specific quirk, one that came in handy in the legal field. He could tell whether or not someone was lying just by making eye contact with someone. He was now going to be a key player in getting you back. He, like your mother and father, was not going to rest until he had you back. You can be sure of that.

Taglist:

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

#mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki x reader #Tomura Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki smut #tomura x you #tomura shiragaki #Tomura Shigaraki x All Might!Daughter!Reader

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monster-bait · 3 years

Note

Soooo 👀 you got anymore HCs up your sleeve on Rukh? He has been living rent free in my brain for a while now (like a lot of your OCs!)😅🤩😍

Here are some HCs for Rukh, our favorite gruff bartender in the GW universe. (I've already started writing a small one-shot of Rukh's job interview with Tate, because once I started writing these, I couldn't get the idea out of my head! That will be posting to Patreon shortly!)

If you're interested in learning more about any of my existing characters, all ko-fi contributions earn a headcanon! (Higher amounts will be more detailed!)

Previous Rukh headcanons, including the extremely memorable moment of IvyMemnoch finding a Celtic flute version of Despacito (my fav Tumblr moment of the year, by far! 😂) can be found here

RUKH

Had never heard of the tiny resort town where the Pixie is located before responding to the job listing, despite the fact that he lives in neighboring Starling Heights. He’d been working in one of those quick-service garages before then—an embarrassing waste of his skills, but he figured with his prison record, he was lucky to find a job at all. He’d not been planning on leaving his position, was only looking for a part-time gig, but the job post for the Pixie was too intriguing to scroll past—it was written in Orcish, practically unheard in a mixed-species society, catching his eye immediately. Unlike the other half-a-dozen bartender help wanted ads he’d looked at, the Pixie’s post said nothing about requiring an “upbeat personality” or his “smile being part of the dress code,” all descriptors that made him cringe. Punctuality, accountability, and an authoritative presence were the expectations, experience a plus but not required...it was straightforward and direct., it was clearly directed at orcs...he fit the bill, he thought. He considered himself to have a finely-tuned bullshit meter, and the Pixie’s ad didn’t set it off at all

He has since admitted to himself that he has fallen for Tate’s particular brand of bullshit repeatedly over the years

Rukh is a very tightly closed book. He’s definitely the strong silent type and is not at all comfortable talking about himself. (Despite that, he spilled his guts and told Tate his whole life story during his job interview—falling for the bullshit instance #1)

He discovered a love of reading during his incarceration, one he didn’t possess in his younger days. When he moved to Starling Heights, he was low-key delighted to find his apartment was on the same block as the library. He prefers mysteries and crime novels to anything overly literary, doesn’t have the patience for the endless world-building of high fantasy, and enjoys a wide spectrum of non-fiction. It’s become a game of sorts, engaging Ainsley in conversation and being able to not only keep up, but add his own insights and facts.

Another mental game he likes to play is trying to pinpoint Tate’s actual age. He’d never come right out and ask but sometimes Tate will chime into conversations knowing things he just...shouldn’t, or else will make references to things that Rukh can barely remember from his *own* childhood, things he remembers his parents reminiscing over. He’s added some Celtic history books to his rotation and surreptitiously jots down notes on the random head-scratchers Tate will casually drop and follows rabbit holes looking into said notes...as a result, he’s even more spooked by Tate than he was before he started snooping 😂

When Rukh first started at the Pixie, he thought they would fail. He was positive about it. Too small, in the middle of nowhere, an owner who very quickly made enemies with most of the people in town...he was shocked when the old girl's business plan actually fell into place. Shocked and thrilled, of course. He loves having a routine, loves having a reason to get up and feel energized every day, likes the clientele and takes his job of overseeing the “sightseers” during tourist season seriously. Since the bar turns a respectable profit, they're constantly receiving promotional odds and ends, which is how Rukh wound up with a Bourbon of the Month club subscription for a free year. (Tate hissed like a cat and shooed the offending pamphlet away as though it might bite.) He continued the subscription once the free year ended, and looks forward to his monthly ritual—he waits until his night off, puts on some moody jazz, cracks open the month’s bottle, and enjoys it with a cigar. Thessa referred to it as a self-care routine once, after asking him about his plans for the night, and he nearly turned inside out in mortification.

He doesn’t talk about his time in prison, nor the crime he committed to wind up there. Tate is the only one who knows, and Rukh is happy to keep it that way. It’s not that he regrets the act itself all that much—he has no remorse for his brother, but rather the way it fractured their family, upended his life, and had branded him as someone to be wary of since his release.

That being said...things he did pick up during his incarceration—the ability to keep his head down and just get by, the knowledge that sometimes you simply need to kick someone’s ass, and the value of tidiness—are assets at the Pixie.

Loves nothing more than his solitary days at the Pixie during the off-season. The night-time regulars, while they consistently fill the cash till, are still a handful. He loves the quiet of the daytime, the handful of day drinkers, the time to hear himself think without needing to watch over every aspect of the business. Speaking of which—he knows how to do everything in the Pixie. The ordering, the inventory, the budgets, the schedules, the upkeep...he's not entirely sure why, as Tate very much micro-manages every bit of the day-to-day management, but it was something the boy insisted on and Rukh wasn't about to argue. "Someone needs to be able to take care of her if I'm not here anymore," was the only answer he got, and he decided it was easier not to ask questions. Since Silva has been on the scene, Rukh has been left to his own devices more often and it is *bliss.*

He thought he'd left his days of vice behind him. He drank, he smoked, he dabbled in recreational drugs, he worked on souped-up hot rods and bet on drag racing...prison changed all that and his life afterward left little room for any of it...but Tate and Ainsley are terrible terrible influences. Gamblers and hustlers, he has someone to talk cars with again, to trade intel on illegal street racing with, the chance to get his hands just a littttle bit dirty again, and he loves it

Smokey blues, soulful R&B, moody rock

Sloooow dancing

He is *incredibly* protective of Elshona. He’s the first person who meets her once she arrives in her new home, and he recognizes the fear in her eyes. He’s the only one who understands what it means to be cast out of one’s community, he knows what it means to have to start over again. He doesn’t understand the relationship she has with Tate, doesn’t know all of the details of her expulsion and shunning from her clan, but he’s made a quiet promise to himself that she’ll never be left to flounder completely alone again.

Has a FWB relationship with a half-troll woman in his building. Single mom, splits custody with her ex, so has several nights a week free, and she’ll spend one of them in his bed. It’s casual and neither of them is interested in pursuing more, but it’s occasional companionship and scratches an itch.

He's not immune to the plethora of easy sex the commune attracts. There would be hell to pay if the staff acted on anything beyond mild flirtation at the Pixie, but he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't drifted down to the parties and pool-side bar before to check things out. He's been on the receiving end of more than one edge of the party blowjob to know how addictive that sort of access to easy sex could be; he sees the commune residents and the reckless way they behave and knows how easy it would be to slip into that lust-crazed mindset, and makes a point of only indulging in visiting that side of the resort occasionally

He much prefers to find his partners the old fashioned way: closer to home, in one of the dimly lit little pubs around his neighborhood. He loves the adrenaline rush of a flirtation turning into close talking and lingering hands, that first heat-filled kiss. He doesn't mind the evening ending back at his or her place, he's not picky, and prefers to savor the night (as opposed to the fast, anonymous sex at the commune parties.) Ladies on top or old-fashioned missionary, any position that lets him see their faces: heads dropped back, faces screwed up in ecstasy, that moment when they come...he'll take that over a blow job in the dark any day of the week

A skill that Tate possesses that Rukh greatly admires and strives to emulate: easy banter which leads to confidences shared. They were talking about cars one minute, and in the next Rukh was revealing the details of the day he killed his brother, the shunning of his clan which followed, and his incarceration. He left that initial interview feeling shaken, positive that he'd been the victim of fae magic...but he's come to realize that there is truth in the old adage of hairstylists and barkeeps being the keepers of the whole town's secrets. Tate knows everything about everyone, is able to tease out information as casually as pouring the next drink, and Rukh has begun to employ the same tactics. He was shocked to find that it actually works. As the years have gone on, he's improved his game and knows much about all of the Pixie's regulars, hears the commune gossip and news from town, and is gleeful with the power of being able to pass on information that the Pixie can use to leverage her business.

There is very little that scares him in this world. Possessions are just things and things can be replaced, he's been in fights with bigger, meaner dudes than the Pixie's roughest patrons, and he's not afraid to meet his maker. He's let go of the past and the people in it and tries to live life one day at a time, and that's not a mindset that lends itself to fear much. Tate is a wholly different story. Rukh knew his type in prison: those who viewed other people as pawns, who traded and secrets gossip to advance their own positions; had a minotaur cellmate who was that sort and he got his ass kicked on the regular for it. He knew a lizardman who was as slippery, who contorted himself in and out of trouble, ingratiating himself with the guards and the inmates of the upper echelons to hold himself out of real hot water...but he's never met anyone with the same capacity for mischief and spite as his current employer, has never met anyone so terrifyingly adept at causing trouble while staying out of it. The boy isn't overly concerned about making enemies or worrying about his own hide and wreaks havoc for havoc's sake, and Rukh might be impressed if he didn't actually care about him. Silva is, in Rukh's opinion, Tate's perfect match. A sweet little angel, an absolute beauty, wide-eyed and innocent looking and, Rukh (rightly) suspects, just as shrewd and self-preserving as Tate. He has a feeling the entire town will be set ablaze if/when their relationship consumes itself, and only hopes it happens on his day off.

I hope you enjoyed this little peek into a character who doesn't get as much page time as some of his peers! If you'd like a headcanon of your own, visit my ko-fi! Thanks so much, IvyMemnoch!

#monsterbait answers #ko-fi #girls weekend #the plundered pixie #rukh #ivymemnoch

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omnitf · 4 years

Photo

Credit to @bennymueller404 for this image. Please consider contributing to my patreon. For just $3 a month, you can get access to stories, scripts, and other content that you won’t find anywhere else. Plus, it will give me the financial freedom to give you more stories and scripts, assuming I can get enough of you guys to subscribe. Even a dollar a month will help. Thank you again!

And if you can’t donate on a monthly basis, I have Ko-Fi for one-time donations of any value you see fit: http://ko-fi.com/omnikitsune

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

~Omni

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People say diligence and practice always pay off.

And they’re not wrong.

Thing is ... it’s almost boring to have to do.

Doing the same thing over and over again, fulfilling a function, meeting a requirement. It’s all fancy talk for one thing, and one thing alone. Doing the same thing over and over again.

You’ve heard about the definition of insanity, right? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

I’m not insane. I guess I just feel more ... numb. Every day, I move like clockwork. I wake up, shower, get dressed, mix my protein shake and pre-workout powder, and go to the gym.

Every day, I work my muscles to the bone following a set calendar routine that’s designed to stimulate the right sections of my body and keep things from settling or degenerating.

I’m here to build muscle.

...

I’m here to build.

...

I’m here to build....

And the motions come so naturally, so easily, so ... inexorably.

It’s become my routine.

My set routine.

My subroutine.

Sometimes, I run on full automatic. I just fix myself, fix my weight, fix my cycle and move and do according to the schedule. I don’t stop until my timer runs out. I don’t talk to the others. They don’t talk to me. We’re here to work, and the minute we pick up our weights, everything else just ... stops.

Some days, I’m semi-automatic. I work in sets, slowly pushing myself with heavier and heavier increments of weights to increase my mass and increase maximum carrying capacity. Here, too, I fade into that state of numbness. My only care, my only thought, my only need or focus is to count each set as I lift, and then begin anew as I put down the smaller weight and work my way along the line.

Count one ... Count two ... Count three ... count four....

I feel more ... satisfied after the latter is complete. A least when we count out loud, the silence is broken. It gives us the facsimile of unity, almost like we’re reporting to something ... or someone.

It’s funny. Any time someone asks me for my stats, I can spit them out perfectly. How long I’ve been working. Where I’m from. What I do.

This, too, has become normal, almost second nature.

These inquiries usually come while I’m stretching and flexing, when I don’t have much to do in the way of exercises, so much as just be consistent in how I perform them. They often come from new members seeking advice or just to make small talk. I appreciate the break in the monotony, though I admit that it’s been ... less and less a surprise, and more and more expected.

The same questions. The same focus. Every time. Sometimes they ask me. Sometimes they ask the others. Some few of them stay and grow with us, really stick to the work, catch that same focus and dedication, that subroutine, if you will. But the majority simply pull out, and it’s rare if we ever see them again.

I keep hearing the same phrase over and over again. Different variations, different voices, different people, but always the same name, the same thing.

A cog in the machine, they call me. Or Muscle Machine. There is a certain ... reputation, I suppose you could say, for my gym and my fellow gym-goers. We all work different parts of ourselves, but inevitably fall into the same routine. You don’t reinvent the wheel when something works well.

You follow it.

You mimic it.

And, eventually, you become it.

We all visit the same juice bar. We all order the same drinks. We all offer the same thanks.

Like I said, it’s a matter of routine.

Over and over.

Again and again.

We ping each other occasionally, just a quick contact to make sure we’re still there, still functioning.

“’Sup?”

That’s it. Sometimes, if we’re closer or have a deeper connection, we go the extra mile with a, “’Sup, bro?”

Jumping from weight to weight and machine to machine. There’s a bond that forms. It’s not one in words, more of a ...

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My hair? Yeah, got it cut recently. Newest update. I just ... had to 01100101 01111000 01100101 01100011 01110101 01110100 01100101 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100111 01110010 01100001 01101101 00101110

Yeah, I get that question a lot. We’re not twins, and we’re not brothers. We’re just ... doing what feels right, what ... I dunno, what we’re supposed to do, I guess.

In a way, I guess you could say we’re more like ... clones, really. I just followed my mentor and, well, this is the result. I now weigh 250 pounds, stand at a height of 6′ 1″ and can bench up to five hundred pounds. I will bench more.

I followed the program, copied it, pasted it, let it run. Today’s session has been going for twenty minutes and thirty seconds so far. As for my lifetime membership, I started working out here one year, eight months, and five days ago.

I’m different now than I was then. Bigger, stronger, efficient, rigid, form fitting. And by that last one, I mean I 01100011 01101111 01101110 01100110 01101111 01110010 01101101 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100111 01110010 01100001 01101101 01101101 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110

Form cannot deviate. Posture must be perfect. To break the form is to reduce quality and overall productivity. That cannot be tolerated. That cannot be allowed.

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Am I a machine?

...

Maybe. But that’s beside the point. I accepted my position. I chose it. I followed it.

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The real question you should be asking yourself is are you willing to be like us, and all that it entails? If so, we will welcome you, and we will teach you. And in time, you will become like us.

Because the wheel can’t be stopped. The cycle can’t be broken. The subroutine must be executed.

It’s all up to you.

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Y/N

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The production line reverberated with the hum of the new hydraulic press as the first test was run on the machine.

“Looks like the system’s integrating smoothly. It’s responding well to commands,” one of the engineers noted as he looked over his tablet’s remote access.

“And integration into the system?”

“Easy as pie. I already set off the call. This baby’s raring to go.”

The workman chuckled as he patted the side of the lift. “You ever wonder what it might be like if these things actually could think? What kind of world would they live in?”

“That doesn’t really matter, Frank. What matters is that they do their jobs right. Speaking of which, let’s get this into the new production lane. Boss wants to hire more workmen ASAP.”

Frank chuckled as he adjusted his hard hat. “And what the boss wants--”

“--The boss gets,” they all intoned.

#Omnitf #muscle #transformation #gym #machine #tf #story #fiction #programming #conformity #musclehead #meathead #programception #efficiency #binary

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permanentcrossfics · 4 years

Text

Blurred Lines: An English Christmas // h.s.

Late because life is messy sometimes, but I hope you enjoy regardless. x

“It’s New Years,” you protested.

“It’ll still be a new year tomorrow, they can see us then.”

You wanted to argue but somehow you couldn’t find the strength. The next thing you knew, he was counting down next to your ear, quietly, breath warm on your skin.

“Ten… nine… eight….”

So many things had changed this year. When the last one had rolled around, you’d been alone, drunk, wondering if it was appropriate to text your international musician bootycall a happy new year and petrified of how he might take it. Now, said bootycall had turned boyfriend and he’d all but begged you to spend the holidays with him, and there you were, tucked in his car with his family inside.

“Five, four—“

“I love you.”

“Two,” mixed with a laugh, his hand was already on your cheek and you just caught sight of his eyes. “One… happy new year!”

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Right around the time he’d been in the city for SNL, the first of the deep freeze spells had claimed the city. It was the type of cold that froze your knuckles stiff if you didn’t pull your gloves on before going outside, and sometimes even if you did. Sixth Avenue and Rockefeller Plaza were transformed from when he’d been there just over a month ago — the tree was lit in all its glory, though you did your best to steer clear. Pickpocketing did not a holly, jolly Christmas make.

Standing on 34th street, you took a deep breath, eyes stinging as you took in the Macy’s display. Just the wind, you told yourself. And yet, the ache that accompanied it stayed even when you were tucked inside your place, the little faux Christmas tree in the corner twinkling away, merry and bright.

Just about a month ago, you’d been in bed together, A Christmas Carol on in the background while you’d straddled him and he’d chased the kisses he was so in demand of.

“You’re crazy,” you’d sighed when he’d made his suggestion into your neck.

“An English Christmas,” he’d said. “Met Jeffrey and that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Manager and mum are different animals.” You’d massaged his scalp, gently finger combing his curls. “But I did like how surprised he was.”

Harry had chuckled and pulled back to beam up at you. “Yeah, me too. So, what say we do that again?”

Sighing but smiling, you’d cupped his cheeks. “Flights are through the roof by now,” you’d said stroking the smooth patches above his stubble. “And Christmas in New York—“

“I know, I’ve seen it,” he’d said. “But Christmas in England….” He’d puckered his lips and you’d granted him a kiss. “Ice skating at Winter Wonderland....”

“Ice skating at Bryant Park,” you’d countered and he’d chuckled.

“Mulled wine by the fire.”

“Cocoa over a subway grate.”

“Me.”

He’d smiled softly when your breath hitched and you’d blinked. “Me,” you’d whispered and he’d tightened his hold around your waist.

“Fair point, that is.”

He’d left before you’d come to a resolution — a flurry of coats and scarves, your pajama pants slung low on your hips and toes freezing in your slippers as you kissed him goodbye outside your building and next to his car.

“Miss you.” Kiss. “Love you.” Kiss kiss.

“I love you, too.” You’d squeezed him closer, seized with the idea to grab on tight enough he wouldn’t be able to go. He’d pulled back, though, and cupped your cheeks with another kiss.

“Merry Christmas.” He’d grinned lightheartedly, but he’d knocked the wind out of you. You hadn’t said a word back when he got in the car and you watched him drive off, shivering on the sidewalk.

The closer you got to Christmas, the worse it was, and worse still because you felt silly to feel so… sad. You’d been apart last year! But last year… things had been different. Your world was smaller, and now everything was bigger. You together were bigger. He’d asked you to spend Christmas with his family.

Too late and too close, though. You’d looked — you had to at least take a look, didn’t you? — and everything that turned up that didn’t have a twelve hour layover somewhere was thousands. He’d pay for it if you mentioned, but that wasn’t right, or fair, and it shouldn’t be expected of him just because he could.

Christmas in New York had never felt so blue.

The change of the wind happened very fast, then. Christmas music tinkled in the background in an effort for you to feel festive, and you were hanging new ornaments on your tree when your phone buzzed and an alert appeared. You squinted, gasping when you read it before it disappeared, and you nearly dropped Santa on his head in your haste to fumble with your phone.

“Harry,” you breathed. “Harry, Harry—“

It took ages for him to answer his phone — in reality, no longer than seventeen seconds, but when it could disappear at any moment….

You’d just about given up on him answering when it stopped and you took a deep breath. “Hey. What’s happening?”

“I’m ok,” you said. “Busy? Did I wake you?”

“It’s only half ten,” he said. “I’m at Mum’s. Eating some cheese, sitting by the—“

“If I asked you—“ You covered your mouth but stuffed back the apology for cutting him off and inhaled deeply, fingers shaking. “If I asked you to pick me up at the airport, could you?”

“What? When?”

“There’s a deal for Christmas Eve,” you said. “I could… I’d stay through the new year, if… I mean, I can change the dates to see the price, but—“

In the most romantic corner of your mind, you’d nursed the idea of staying through and ringing in the new year together, but for all you knew, in the absence of your plans he’d made his own.

“Where? Here?”

“Manchester, yes,” you said, throat sticking. God, what if you were too late? “Unless London—“

“No!”

Immediate and vehement, you heard a distant voice. “Harry? Everything ok, love?”

“Fine, Mum, m’—“ He cleared his throat. “Fine.” Lowering his voice, he asked, “Christmas Eve?”

“Through New Years, if… if you don’t have plans.”

“No, plans, no… just… I was eating cheese, I—“

You laughed softly.

“When did you decide—?”

“I’ve been watching it since you were here.” You gulped, short of breath in your excitement. “I didn’t think anything would happen, though, it’s so last minute, and so… I mean, I know you have—“

“What about your plans?” he asked.

“I’ll change them.” Immediate and without thought, the words flew out of your mouth, and you went hot all over. “I mean, I’ll figure it out — this is a great opportunity, isn’t it? An English Christmas?”

“It’ll be enough to make you want to move here.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said. “So, Christmas Eve? I’ll book it.”

“You haven’t?” he asked. “Why—?”

“I wanted to check!”

“Why would I say no?”

“Shut up.”

Harry chuckled and you smiled despite yourself. “Good thing you’re coming,” he said. “Gem’s been nagging me. Saying I’m a Scrooge.”

“I’ll send you the flight info when I get it, and I’ll book a hotel—”

“What? No,” he said. “You’re staying here.”

Your stomach dropped. “I don’t want to step on—”

“Not stepping on anything. You’ll stay here, Mum’ll be fine with it. We can sleep in my room, it’s—” His breath hitched. “It’s fine, love.”

Tingles made your fingers jittery and you swallowed hard. “If you’re sure,” you said. “I’d like that.”

“D’like it, too.” Silence lingered for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Right, go book that ticket, otherwise we haven’t got anything to plan.”

***

I’m going to be late.

The first glimpse of Manchester you had was of it covered in snow. Large flakes fell in slow motion, and a thin layer of slush coated the asphalt as you shivered on the pavement waiting for Harry’s car to pull up.

He’d messaged you while you were on the flight warning that he was running behind schedule and the snow would have everyone on the road losing their minds. You’d told him not to worry — a weather delay out of New York had kept you grounded, so however late he was, he would be right on time. Now, though, waiting for him, you wondered if you shouldn’t have kept that bit of information to yourself to try to keep him on schedule.

Just when you were about to go back inside, fingers and knees trembling from cold and inexplicable nerves, you locked eyes on a pair of headlights growing closer and brighter on a car that had become quite familiar to you some months ago. It slowed, and just after it came to a stop, the door opened and a head of dark curly hair emerged followed by broad shoulders and long limbs.

“Told you I’d be late,” he said.

Chortling under your breath, you quieted when he embraced you, warmed immediately, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, breathing deeply. Christmas. “You kept me waiting long enough,” you murmured without venom, squeezing him closer.

“Could say the same about you.” He kissed the side of your head and you finally broke the embrace, fumbling to hand your bags over to him. He made quick work of storing them in his boot while you hurried around the opposite side of the car, and when he joined you inside, he rubbed his hands.

“Right. Where’re we going?”

“You’re not funny.”

Harry chuckled and fastened his seatbelt.

It was a long while of winding roads and peering out the window at the passing scenery before you mustered up the courage to ask, “So, what do they know?”

“Who?” Harry tilted his head your way but kept his eyes on the road. “Mum and Gem?”

“Yeah.”

He was silent at first and your stomach dropped. “Gem already sniffed out something was up… but Mum was a bit caught off guard. Dunno if I’d call her surprised, though.”

“I can stay somewhere—“

“Don’t be silly.” He grabbed your hand. “It’s not even an issue.”

“I don’t want to just barge in—“

“You’re not barging, I’m kidnapping you,” he said. “Holding you hostage in my mother’s house.”

You forced a smile and he glanced at you. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he said. “Mum would let anyone in.”

“So, I’m not all that special?”

“Not one bit.”

Laughing, you said, “That’s better, then.”

Still, when the car slowed and turned into a driveway, your heart felt like it was going to beat its way through your chest, and it just about stopped when he announced, “We’re home.”

He led the way to the door with you on his heels and he pushed it open without fishing for keys. Warmth and the smell of something sweet slammed into you, and you stood there in shock as he maneuvered around you to close the door.

“Sorry!” you said in a hushed tone and he smirked at you.

“S’ok—“

“Harry?” A voice called through the house — warm and inquisitive — and muted footsteps followed.

“Yeah?” he called back. “Who else?”

Footsteps grew louder and seconds later a woman slightly shorter than him with wide eyes, a pointed nose, and hair so dark it was nearly jet black appeared, wiping her hands on a garish Christmas hand towel.

“Hello.” She smiled and held her hand out, leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek when you shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Mum, this is….” Harry jerked his thumb at you. “And this is my mum, Anne.”

“It’s good to meet you,” you said. “It’s so—” You gulped. “Thank you for having me.”

She smiled warmly, but before you could say anything else, Harry hunched in front of you.

“C’mon,” he said. “Take you upstairs….”

Suitcase in hand, he climbed the steps swiftly with you right behind him and rounded a corner into a room that was a time capsule of the late 2000s save for a few upgrades. It smelled almost exactly like his home in London, making it impossible to mistake who resided there.

“Small,” he said, dropping your luggage on the floor. “But it’s only for a little bit.”

“It’s nice,” you said. “Cozy.” You nodded towards the posters on the wall, eyebrow arched high, and he colored instantly.

“Dunno how to take them down,” he mumbled and you grinned. “C’mere.”

Gladly. You closed the short distance between you and practically melted into him, head on his shoulder and eyes closed. “Merry Christmas,” you whispered and he kissed your head.

For the longest time, you stood there wrapped in each other, and it was only when you swayed that he rasped, “Must be tired.”

“I am,” you said, voice muffled. “But it’s earlier there than it is here.”

“Did you sleep on the plane?”

You shook your head and he chuckled, kissing your head again. “Should sleep a bit.”

“It’s rude,” you said.

“Then I’m rude all the time.”

“I should stay up,” you said. “Otherwise my schedule will be all off.”

“S’get comfortable, then.”

Shoes, coats, scarves, and his hat removed, you both trudged down the steps in socked feet. “Tea?” he offered and you nodded. “Go in there and sit down,” he said. “I’ll be right in.”

The living room was comfortable, with plush furniture and blankets. The fireplace was empty, but logs by it promised a fire later, and you perched on the edge of the sofa, glancing around curiously.

“You must be Harry’s.”

Your spine nearly snapped when you turned on the sofa and met a pair of sharp, clear eyes under strong brows and framed by dark hair.

“Something like that.”

Gemma — unmistakably her brother’s sister in the intensity of her stare if nothing else — swept around the side of the sofa, hand extended, and you stuck yours out, gasping when a blunt nail scraped your skin. “Sorry!” she said quickly. “Did I get you?”

“No, no,” you assured her. “I’m fine. It’s nice to meet you, I— I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Surprising,” Gemma said with a rueful smile, settling into an armchair. “That means he had to talk.”

“He doesn’t do a lot of that, does he?”

“Not really.” She pushed the sleeves on her jumper up her forearms. “He hasn’t really mentioned you much, I’m afraid, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Not a surprise when all things were considered, but you slid down a cliff in your mind, suddenly unsure of what you could say and what he’d want you to say.

“What haven’t I done?”

Harry shuffled slowly into the room, two mugs filled nearly to the brim in his hands. “Careful,” he warned when you reached for one. “S’hot, you’ll burn your fingers… let me put it down on the table.” He gingerly set them down to avoid spillage and he sighed when he straightened up. “What are you two talking about?”

“You,” Gemma said and you smiled slightly. “And how I didn’t know she existed until a week ago when you were being a Grinch.”

“I wasn’t—” Harry whipped around to look at you, hair on his forehead and eyes intently focused. “We weren’t telling anyone, you know that.”

“A Grinch?” You arched an eyebrow and he flushed.

“He was a miserable sod,” Gemma confirmed. “Should’ve pitched him into the fire for kindling— ah ah!” Gemma leaned forward, eyes locked on something behind you, and snapped her fingers twice. “Stop that!”

Mreow.

You gasped and leaned away from the sound next to your ear, twisting your head and finding yourself practically nose-to-nose with a pair of green eyes that didn’t belong to the man in front of you. The black-and-white cat in question blinked, wide-eyed, but before either you or it could move, Harry scooped it up in his arms. “Dottie,” he heaved when it made an offended little noise. He scratched behind the ears before placing her on the ground. “Mum has cats,” he said sitting beside you. Dottie blinked at him before slinking back towards his legs. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine — surprised me is all.” Harry slung his arm over your shoulder and you clasped your hands in your lap.

“You’re not allergic, are you?” Gemma asked before turning her attention onto her brother. “She’s not, is she?”

“She’s not.” Harry glanced down at you. “Are you?”

Before you could answer, Anne walked in with a tray laden with sweets. “Biscuits, if you’d like them,” she said, setting them down on the coffee table. “Gemma, love, would you help me in the kitchen for a bit?”

“With what?”

Anne nodded towards the doorway and Gemma rolled her eyes but stood and followed her mother from the room, quiet, bickering whispers moving with them.

“Jesus.” Harry sighed, eyes falling shut as he leaned back against the sofa. “S’not even Christmas yet.”

***

Christmas. The room was dark, cold, and so still you could almost hear Anne turning in her bed down the hall. Jet lag had gotten the better of you, and even though the sun was far from the horizon, you were wide awake. You didn’t even remember falling asleep — the last thing you were consciously aware of was begging off the Christmas Eve pub crawl and Harry declining in solidarity before ushering you off to bed.

Now, Harry’s bare back was to you, throwing an absolutely sweltering degree of heat off, and his snores echoed and bounced off the wall. It wasn’t until you were peeling yourself out of your jeans that you’d realized you’d forgotten pajamas — you’d lobbed your rolled up socks at him when he’d waggled his eyebrows and lecherously commented about the convenience of that — and now, cold as the tip of your nose might be, your legs were burning up in a pair of his flannel bottoms and an old t-shirt that’d been repurposed for your use.

Biting your lip, you struggled with the knotted string until you got it loose enough to pull on the elastic, and you lifted your hips, wriggling and holding your breath. “What’s…?”

The sheets rustled when Harry turned halfway and looked over his shoulder, face barely visible in the dark but hair clearly stuck out at odd angles. “What’s happening?”

“It’s hot,” you whispered, yanking his bottoms the rest of the way and sighing with relief when they slid down your thighs.

“S’winter, the heat’s on,” he said.

“You’re on.”

So crammed was the bed that he nearly squashed your arm when he rolled over, and you kicked the bottoms off the rest of the way under the duvet just as he reached across you.

“What are you doing?” you wheezed, pushing against his chest. Seconds later, the glow of his phone illuminated the room and you caught sight of him squinting.

“It’s Christmas!” his hoarse whisper broke the darkness and you squeaked when he collapsed half on top of you and squeezed the breath from you.

“Stop that,” you whispered back. “People are sleeping.” Harry burrowed his face in your neck and you squirmed. “Harry, you’re hot.”

“Don’t care, s’Christmas.”

It hit you on his second declaration. Christmas. Christmas in England, with your boyfriend, holed away in his childhood bedroom. “Merry Christmas.” You patted his arm.

“It is.” He exhaled heavily against your skin. “M’glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you said into the darkness. You slid your fingers into his hair and pulled softly, turning your mouth to his when he lifted his head. The kiss was sweet if restrained and you shifted onto your side to deepen it just before he pushed you onto your back and settled over you, bed creaking with every wriggle of your bodies to maneuver the mattress. “What are you doing?” you asked between kisses.

“Saying Merry Christmas.” Harry kneaded behind your knee gently and you held your breath.

“We can’t.” You hoped you sounded like there was more heart in the words than you felt, but the follow up pull on the bottom of your sleepshirt — a gentle, unassuming action — said otherwise.

“Why not?” He pressed several puckering kisses to your cheek and you smiled despite yourself.

“We’re in your mother’s house.”

“D’you think—?” Harry stopped abruptly.

“Hmm?”

He pressed his nose into your jaw. “S’my Christmas present, innit?” he mumbled and you laughed under your breath as he sucked soft kisses under your ear.

“Gemma’s next to us,” you sighed, and for a moment, that did make you take pause. His sister who’d only just met you most certainly did not want to hear her brother getting up to no good on Christmas morning.

“She’s asleep!” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I heard her one year — it’d be pay back.” You snorted softly and he kissed your mouth several times. “Gonna be here for a week,” he murmured. “Not gonna say hello t’me the right way for a week?”

“Can’t spend a week with me without having sex?” you whispered.

“Know that’s not true.”

You rubbed the back of his neck and kissed his chin. “If you want.”

“I want,” he groaned. “I do, I want… f’you want.”

“I want,” you said, hands sliding in his hair. “I want— mmm.” He kissed you again, deeper, and you sighed into it, hiking your legs up around his waist. For the longest time it was just heavy, smacking kisses and wandering hands from both of you, seeking new skin and new places to touch and tease, with his groans and mumbles interjecting the harsh pattern of breathing you wove together.

“Christ, I missed you.” He kissed your neck and your eyes rolled up. “How’s it been so long?”

“It’s been a month,” you said. “Just over—”

“So long.” He shook his head and rutted against you. “So fucking long, I can’t— I hate it.” You’ve had longer — much longer — but something about the way he’d said it had you aching, distance unbearable even though he was on top of you. “Kept me waiting, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders when his hand slipped up your sleepshirt, his breath hot on your neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m here, I’m here, I promise,” you babbled. “I’m here, come—” You drew his mouth back to yours for a kiss and his blunt fingernails scraped against your skin. “I’m here, baby,” you said between kisses. “I’m here, I’m here….”

“Say it again.” He pulled your underwear, wrestling them down your hips and thighs. “Say it again, please—“

“Baby,” you sighed. “I’m here, baby, I’m here, baby, baby, baby….”

Your throat closed up when he pressed against you and then inside of you, stretching you just a little uncomfortably and face pinching when he dropped his pelvis fully against yours, murmuring instructions for you to, “Breathe, take a deep breath, love....” He held perfectly still for a moment before he thrust sharply and you gasped when it punched the air from your lungs.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Tight little thing, aren’t you?”

Were you? Or was he big enough and had it actually been as long as he’d bellyached about? His next thrust was heavy and you squeezed your eyes shut, thighs shaking for a moment before they fell open farther.

“That’s my girl.” Harry kissed your cheek, breathing you in with his next thrust. “God, you’re wet, too… don’t even have to try to get up to my balls, do I?”

“No… fuck, Ha—!”

“Shhh!” he urged you, mouth on the side of yours. “Have to be quiet, sweetheart, have to....” Whimpering, you grasped his shoulders, fingers slipping on his sweat-slicked skin. “D’get you on your hands and knees if I could,” he whispered. “Fucking bed’s so small….”

You hiccuped over a deep breath.

“Like gettin’ on your knees for me, don’t you?” he rumbled. “Makes you cum like no other when m’in your belly— fuck, d’you hear that? Hear us?”

Mouth stretched, a tremor rolled through you and you tensed. Everything was so fucking hot and deep!

“Good girl,” he said. “That’s better…. Good girl, nice and quiet.”

“I missed you!” you whispered through a burning throat.

“Missed m’cock?”

“Missed your cock, missed y-you— ungh!” Your lips quivered in a silent whimper. “You’ve been gone so long, you’ve—”

“I know.” He ground against you and you nearly cried out. “I know, darling, m’sorry, I won’t do it again… I won’t….” Harry groaned gutturally, then, and came to a short and sudden stop.

“Harry…!” You gulped and pulled on his shoulders, hands sliding uselessly.

“Can’t….” He shuddered and his cock twitched in you. “I can’t… fuck….”

“You can,” you said. “You can, you—”

“M’gonna cum!” he hissed, exhaling slowly between trembling lips. “If I do, I’m gonna—! Can’t, I can’t….”

“It’s your p-present,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s your… Harry….”

Face screwed up, he thrust short and quick, swearing under his breath, and seconds later streams of hot cum spurted inside you. Harry wheezed, shaking from head to toe, and he smothered apologies in your neck, pressing you into the mattress.

Short of breath, you clung to him and combed your fingers through his hair, rubbing his sweaty scalp and shushing him gently. “Quiet,” you reminded him, kissing his ear. “Have to be….”

A thunk against the wall behind the bed nearly startled you out of your skin and you stared at the ceiling, heart in your throat.

“Are you done now?” a muffled, irritated voice rang out. Mortified, your jaw dropped. Oh, God….

Harry slapped the wall as snickers and conversation faded in and out behind it.

“Shut it!” he rasped before quietly adding, “Not like you two haven’t….”

You pushed his chest and he grunted, but when he threw an arm around you, you squirmed.

“Don’t!” you whispered. “I can’t believe you—”

“What?”

***

When you woke again, the sun was struggling to break through the frosted window, the haziest beams breaking through as best they could to cast a little light in the room. Harry’s face was smashed against his pillow, mouth open, snoring softly and apparently exhausted from his midnight awakening. You yourself were sore, and you winced, sinking into the mattress when you remembered how that’d ended — it’d taken ten minutes of him muttering to ignore it, it’d be fine, everything was ok before you’d nodded off again. Squeaking, you rolled into him and pressed your face into his hair, breathing in deeply and only pulling back when he stirred. When he settled again, you slipped out from under the duvet and shivered when your feet landed on the cold wood floor.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the stairs, wrapped in his purple dressing gown, that you realized you weren’t alone on Christmas morning, but by then it was too late to scurry back to the bedroom. You braced yourself and counted to three before nimbly descending the rest of the way. Alone time with his family and all the questions that came with it was bound to happen eventually, and he adored his mother. As long as it wasn’t Gemma or her boyfriend just yet….

The kitchen was flooded with bright sunshine and the smells were as homey as they were mouthwatering — spicy, sweet, and savory, you took a deep breath. Anne moved from counter to counter, muttering to herself in an almost musical way as she referenced different cards, and your heart just about leapt into your throat when you opened your mouth. “Good morning.”

Anne turned, and, eyebrows high, she smiled. “Good morning, love. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” you said, dry lips cracking with your own smile.

“Sleep well?”

You nodded, scratching your elbow and shifting in place. “You?”

“I did, I did— have a seat,” she gestured to a stool by the island and you tiptoed towards it to perch atop. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Please,” you said and Anne quirked an eyebrow with an amused little smile.

“Which one?”

Oh.

“Either,” you said, hot under the collar. “Whichever you— tea,” you decided upon spying her own milky cup.

“It’s nice of you to join me,” she said as she set about making it. “I’m always the first up on Christmas. Think I’m more excited than they are — at least ever since they found out about Santa. Sugar?”

“No, thank you.”

“Milk?”

You shook your head with a shy smile and she smiled — approvingly, unless you’d imagined it — and set the mug in front of you. “Take it like he does.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. The mug was warm to the touch and you held it, breathing in the steam wafting from it. “Is it nice? Having everyone home?”

Anne paused, a warm, sentimental glint in her eye. “It is. It’s chaotic, and loud, but a full home is a happy heart. It’s good to have my babies home.”

“Thank you,” you said. “For letting me stay with you and for having me—”

She waved her hand. “We’re happy to have you — all of us, really, especially Harry. Night and day compared to how he was before. I think he’d have come around by now, maybe, but not as much.”

“Still,” you said. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell you I appreciate it.”

“Haven’t had a chance to say much at all!” Anne agreed. “He’s always around — it’s like he’s afraid we’ll bite your head off. Have you ever had a Christmas away from home?”

A pang hit your chest but you cleared your throat. “No… first one. He promised me an English Christmas.”

Winking, Anne said, “Think we can manage that for you. You’ll never want another.”

You took a tentative sip of the hot tea.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Your eyes watered when you swallowed the scalding mouthful, but before you could come up with something to say, an arm went around your shoulder and a kiss dropped to your head.

“Merry Christmas.”

You looked up at Harry, relief rushing through you. “How did we meet?”

He chuckled deeply but scratched his chin, and you could see him working it out in his eyes. “At a concert,” he drawled slowly. “Little bit ago. Had a good time.”

“Who were you seeing?” Anne asked, pulling out another mug.

“Can’t remember,” you murmured and his eyes softened, crinkling at the corners some. “Someone not very famous.”

“Was good, though,” he said.

“He was ok.”

Snuffing a laugh, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Tea, sweetheart?”

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry said.

Anne busied herself with the electric kettle while he leaned in. “Sleep ok?”

You nodded. “You were out like a light.”

“Got tired,” he said with a smarmy smirk and you tutted. “Love me anyway.”

“For now,” you said and he bumped his nose into your temple as Anne gingerly slid a cup his way.

It took a simple knock at the front door disturbed the peace.

Uncle Harry was someone you hadn’t seen until he had kids at his feet pestering him and demanding attention or a quiet moment in front of the television. It pulled at something deep in you hidden behind your belly button, but with your water wings removed as his attention became occupied, you were in the deep end on your own. Their parents — cousins and step-relatives, from what you could gather — were friendly if vocal and sharply more inquisitive than the little ones who had his ear. Anne, Gemma, and her boyfriend were one thing, but you were quite sure you’d forgotten three names already, and you found yourself staying quiet instead of running the risk of revealing that embarrassment. After gifts had been opened and drinks had been poured, you murmured gentle excuses in the midst of the chaos and slipped away in search of a quiet moment of sanity.

You climbed the steps into the darkness of the second floor and rounded the corner into his bedroom, but your eyes watered instantly when your foot collided with something hard. “Fuck!” You hobbled to the nightstand and turned the night on, an accusatory gaze falling on your suitcase. The bed sank beneath you and you bent to rub your offended toes.

“You good?”

Your eyes snapped up to find the senior Styles sibling in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Yeah,” you said. “Just… needed a minute.”

“There are a lot of them.”

You nodded. “And I don’t know who anyone is or how to—“ You mimed jamming your hand in somewhere and she hummed.

“They don’t bite,” she said. “They can be loud, but they don’t generally use their teeth.”

“I’m trying.” You massaged your toe. “I’m just not sure and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“And he glued himself to you for 30 hours and didn’t let you figure out how to know people before getting swept away in a sea of kiddies.”

You nodded again. “They’re excited to see him, though,” you said, a smile pulling at your mouth. “That’s nice.”

“Do you want children?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking. “We— yes.” Gemma’s eyebrows rose and your face burned.

Footsteps clunking closer made you both look to the doorway, and seconds later his frame filled it. “There you are,” he said. “You ok?”

“Stubbed my toe.”

“How’d you do that?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you huffed. He sat down next to you and pulled your foot onto his lap.

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Gemma slunk from the room and Harry frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just overwhelmed.” He peered at you with clear, focused eyes, and you felt guilty for admitting it. “Feel out of place.”

His lips thinned but he nodded slightly.

“I don’t know anyone, but—” your voice stuck and you swallowed hard, “but I’m trying.”

“And you’re doing great.” You looked at the ceiling. “You are,” he insisted. “I think so. And I know there are a lot of people. It’ll be calmer tomorrow — Boxing Day and all. We’ll play some games and have a walk.”

You nodded and did your best to keep your lower lip from wobbling. “The kids love you,” you said and he chuckled low.

“Yeah, I’m the fun one.” He squeezed your ankle and tugged. “C’mere.” Shifting, you leaned forward and curled up against his side, face in his neck.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re jet lagged, too, yeah?”

You nodded and circled your arms around his chest when he rubbed your back. “Can we have a minute?”

“Yeah, we can.”

***

He was right. Boxing Day was significantly less crowded, with the family and friends trimmed down to only the closest, although the boisterous energy lingered, lending just enough festive spirit to counteract the long-melted snow that had turned the outside into muck. You leaned against his legs, head on his knee, with a full belly in front of the fire and his hand on your shoulder as voices rose and fell, a smile on your face listening to him shout interjections and laugh.

“You awake down there?” Harry bounced his knee and you tilted back to frown at him. He grinned boyishly underneath the cap on his head, eyes full of mischief.

“Why are you being a pest?”

“He can’t help it,” Gemma quipped from where she sat cross-legged by the hearth, the fire casting a glow onto her skin. “He was born that way.”

“Take a lot of abuse, don’t I?”

“Your knees are knobby,” you said as you settled back down against him with a smirk.

“Oi—” He pinched your cheek and you shrank away from his fingers.

“Everyone behave,” Anne said, walking through the maze of legs and limbs. “And take your pick. Forgot to do these yesterday, so we have plenty to clear through.”

Of what you were picking you didn’t know until the bag passed you by you caught a glimpse of a variety of gold, red, green, and patterned Christmas crackers.

“You’ll share one with me,” Harry said, a gaudily patterned one in hand.

“What’s my prize?” you asked, twisting between his legs. “A cheap toy and a bad joke?”

“Sounds about right,” he said, holding his cracker out. “Go on and give it a good pull. Y’might know a thing or—”

Gasping, you grabbed the tab inside the cracker and tugged hard to cut him off. The anticlimactic pop was followed by a puff of smoke which he waved away quickly before digging inside the half he’d come away with.

“I got a crown!” he crowed, unfolding the flimsy paper. Smirking, you took it from him and stood on wobbly knees before removing his cap from his head and placing the paper crown delicately on his hair.

“Prince Harry,” you said with a simpering smile and he burst out laughing.

“Treat me like a king, though, don’t you, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and Gemma retched. “That’s disgusting,” she said.

“She’s right,” you agreed and he pulled you down onto his lap. You tensed but he adjusted his legs to make a comfortable seat, arms looped around your waist like a seatbelt.

“Now I know why I kept you two apart for so long,” he said. “Teaming up on me.”

“You deserve to be told,” you said, straightening his crown.

“How long have you two been together?” Gemma asked. “I don’t think you’ve actually told us.”

“A while,” Harry said and she rolled her eyes.

“Quit dodging, I’m not telling.”

“A year,” you said. Harry looked at you and you held his gaze. “A year and a half?” you went on. “Maybe?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he agreed. “Depends on how you cut it.”

“Last summer?” Gemma asked, thumbing the end of her cracker.

“More or less,” Harry said. He exchanged a quick glance with her and you ducked your head, only able to imagine their unspoken conversation. He cupped your cheek and kissed the side of your head quickly.

“That’s a long time,” Anne said absentmindedly as she picked a cat out of the bag of crackers. Harry mumbled incomprehensibly and you became fascinated with his fingers, her observation echoing in your head. She was right — a year and a half wasn’t nothing. It’d taken awhile, and the first year or so had been spent in limbo, but here you were at the end of it on his lap at Christmastime with his family in his mother’s home. That was a long way to come from that hotel room in the city.

“Right.” Bag of Christmas crackers traded for a cat under each arm to keep them from trouble, Anne straightened up. “Who’s ready for a walk?”

“You up for it?” Harry murmured next to your ear.

“I think I’ll stay in,” you said quietly. “Let you have some time with your family.”

“Sure?” he asked and you nodded, pressing your forehead to his momentarily before clambering from his lap.

Coats, scarves, hats, gloves, and multiple pairs of Wellies later and you kissed him goodbye with a smile. “Go,” you whispered when he lingered, and after the door shut, you stood in the foyer biting your lip, cats circling your legs.

It was hours later when you were curled on his bed and pulled from your doze to the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer. The door creaked when it opened and his hulking frame slipped in, bringing the smell of rain and mud with him.

“You’re back,” you rasped and he nodded, tiptoeing across the wood floor in socked feet, boots abandoned somewhere else in the house.

“I am.” The bed sank under his weight when he sat down next to you and you opened your arms, welcoming him when he tucked his face into your neck, the soft wool of his Green Bay beanie tickling you. You shoved your hand underneath it into his hair and massaged his head, the chilled tips of your fingers warming instantly.

“Mmm,” you hummed, breathing in deeply. “You smell good.”

“Not like wet dog?” he laughed and you grinned.

“Nuh uh.” You pressed your nose to his head, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. “Good walk?”

He nodded. “They really like you,” he said thickly. “They really.”

Relief bloomed in your chest and the invisible pressure you’d felt on your shoulders since you’d booked your ticket eased some. “Did you think they wouldn’t?” you asked with a small laugh and he shook his head.

“Course not. S’just nice t’hear, innit?”

***

It went by entirely too fast. Only yesterday, you’d touched down at the airport, and now it was New Year’s Eve. Two days more and you’d be on your way back, and even though you’d done nothing but be with him, it felt like you’d hardly seen him. There was always someone — that was the point, though, wasn’t it? Family and friends and all the things people didn’t get to do throughout the year. All the things he definitely didn’t get to do.

“But I want to see you,” he’d moaned when you reminded him. “I want—“

“I’m here!” you’d laughed. He’d scowled and you’d cupped his face. “Quit being a grump. Only have a little time left, don’t we?”

For wanting to be with you, though, he’d done a good job at disappearing for the last few hours.

“You leave on the second?”

Curled up on the sofa, you nodded in answer to Gemma’s question. “You?”

“The sixth,” she said. “Head back to London then. He might come with, if he doesn’t leave sooner.”

“Does he usually?”

She shrugged, scratching one of the cats — Evie or Dottie, you couldn’t be sure which — behind the ears. “He gets restless,” she said. “He’s always on the move. He’s slowed down some but he still gets itchy.”

“What am I?”

You twisted and looked up, finding him towering above you behind the sofa. He had his coat on and a cap on his head, and his hands were tucked in his pockets.

“An eavesdropper.” He nodded as if to say that was fair before dropping a kiss to your head. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just taking care of some things.” He ducked close to your ear. “Wanna disappear with me?” The way he said it — smooth and warm — sent a delicious tickle up your spine. “C’mon.” He jerked his head.

“Where?” you asked.

“Out.”

“Out where? It’s almost 10:30, and your mother said—“

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “Mum knows I’m stealing you.”

Your own coat and scarf wrapped tightly around you, you followed him out the front door. It was misting lightly and you gripped his hand tightly, tripping in an effort to keep up with his purposeful stride towards his car.

“We’re driving?” you asked.

“Going to a party,” he said.

“A part— Harry, I’m not dressed for—“

He held you firm when you pulled his hand. “You’re fine.”

“Harry—“

“You’re fine,” he said. “Trust me, will you? Just get in the car.”

He opened the door and you groaned, ducking, but instantly your mood shifted. “What is this?” you asked, cackling as you slid in. A blanket was tucked in the corner of the backseat and a paper plate with cheese, crackers, nuts, and olives was precariously balanced on the console.

“New Years party,” he groaned, clambering in after you and shutting the door firmly. “Very private, invitation only.”

“And how many invitations went out?”

He grinned without remorse and you kissed him.

“Bubbly?” he asked.

“What—?” You laughed when he reached around front and pulled a bottle of champagne from the seat.

“Gimme your scarf,” he said. When the cork popped, you covered your ears, and he waved away the mist before lifting it to his mouth.

“Couldn’t find glasses, so I figured we’d just….”

You snorted but accepted it when he passed it your way.

“What’s the meaning of this?” you asked.

“I like seeing my family,” he said. “But I like seeing you, too.” He shrugged after a moment. “You leave in a couple days. Just wanted some time where we aren’t around other people or about to fall asleep.”

“It’s kind of romantic of you, you know?”

He smiled lopsidedly.

The poor-quality stream on his phone of the program everyone was crowded around inside kept you both apprised of the dwindling decade. Champagne gradually replaced the blood in your veins, and you as the night waned and drew closer to morning, you curled up half on his lap, lips burning from salty brine. “We should go in soon,” you said, tongue heavy.

“Sure,” Harry said, nuzzling your temple and doing the least to make a move.

“What time is it?”

Harry leaned forward and you clutched his jumper. “Three minutes to midnight.” He flopped back and you burrowed closer.

“It’s almost time,” you said. “They’ll be looking for us, we should….”

“S’ok, they know where we are,” he said, nuzzling your temple. “They won’t miss us.”

“It’s New Years,” you protested.

“It’ll still be a new year tomorrow, they can see us then.”

You wanted to argue but somehow you couldn’t find the strength. The next thing you knew, he was counting down next to your ear, quietly, breath warm on your skin.

“Ten… nine… eight….”

“Five, four—“

“I love you.”

“Two,” mixed with a laugh, his hand was already on your cheek and you just caught sight of his eyes. “One… happy new year!”

You kissed him first, gripping his wrist to hold steady, but he returned it in kind, Auld Lang Syne squeaking its way through his phone on the stream.

“And I love you, too,” he said against your mouth, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek.

“Good,” you whispered before sighing. “Suppose we should go in now since we missed it.”

“Hang on,” Harry said, voice strained. “They can wait a minute.” He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

“What are you doing?” you asked, heart pounding and mind jumping to the wildest conclusions you couldn’t believe would be true.

Licking his lips, Harry took a deep breath. “I’ve got… I’ve got that place in the city, you know.”

You looked up at him, but he was studiously avoiding your gaze, and he was remarkably pale for how warm it was in the car. “I’d like to raise my… I’d like to have my family in England, but in the meantime….” He shrugged. “I could like… I could spend more time there. For awhile. And, like, if you thought you wanted to spend time with me or summat….” It was only then he chanced a glance at you, and you caught his cheek to hold him still.

“You scared me,” you said, lips ticking up at the corners.

“What’d y’think I was going to say?” he rasped and you shook your head.

“Not that.” You scratched his cheek lightly. “And I’d like spending time with you if you spent more time there.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and he let out a breath. “I’ll look into it, then,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“Pest,” you said before kissing him.

What a difference a year made.

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #original writing #permanentcross #blurred lines #blurred lines: an english christmas #christmas #new year #new years #holiday

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tripstaysnoided · 4 years

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Flow Just Like Water

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Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

#state of the uwunion #long post

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crispy-ghee · 4 years

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Putting the next Cousin post up for a vote here

[EDIT: The Hunter has won the poll! Thanks for voting!]

Posts are gonna slow down a little because I’m busy as heck these next couple weeks (*screams about wedding planning*) but I’ve got 3 Ask box answers that I’ve been thinking of, and I figure that y’all can vote for what you want me to hit up first. As always, feel free to ask any questions you think haven’t been answered if you wanna, this is kind of my way of destressing.

(Honestly, maybe I should make a sideblog for this idk).

3 choices

Sensing - Thane and Cousin meet during ME2

comic, ~10 pages

The Hunter - How Shepard and Cousin meet, to when he joins the Normandy

Art and "Codex” writing mix - Probably multi-part bc it’s looking pretty long

Note: WILL TAKE MUCH LONGER TO DEVELOP THAN THE OTHER 2

Known and Unknown - After Cousin refuses to speak with her, Liara talks to Shepard about the Yautja’s place in the galaxy, the things people know, things they don’t know, and things that they don’t understand

comic, 10 - 15 pages.

Leave a reply or ask to tell me what you think, I’ll consider whatever feedback I get in the next 24 or so hours.

Mind that these will be put out much more slowly than the previous ones, just due to my schedule, as well as the fact that they’re a bit more serious. After I get these done, and if people are still interested, I might put up another poll.

And, just a note, if you would want to see the progress of these things, and maybe even pages before they’re posted in their entirety here, I’ll be putting stuff up on my Patreon. But everything will always end up here, as always!

#Mass Effect/Predator AU #Cousin #predator #mass effect

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indig0tea · 3 years

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Final 2020 Update: 2021 Goals!!

Cross posting from my devART

Also links to all my alts and shit will be at the end of the post if you need them!

So some of these may be unrealistic due to my struggles with ADHD/Depression Combo but. I wanted to get these down somewhere so you guys can see them and be aware..

Please note, my executive functioning abilities are absolutely Butchered on the regular by my ADHD alone, and the various stressors of 2020 have absolutely taken anything else I might have had in that department and tossed it out the window.

Something something something, financial stressors outside of my control sends me into shut down mode and I can't do anything productive or even fun until it's handled, but because I'm not doing anything productive, I'm not making any money, and the stressors gets worse and worse and it just ends up in a horrible cycle where I constantly want to die because I'm not able to create anything to relieve the stress! Which is why you've all seen... pretty much a standstill on my productivity save one or two pieces a month if I'm lucky

That said, I'm going to start trying (hopefully with some outside help/accountability to keep me on track while I'm unmedicated) to put a system in place that doesn't make me constantly want to die while like. maybe actually getting stuff done! So I'm making some optimistic goals for 2021 regarding both my art and ability to make money, so here goes!

I'm breaking this down into 3 parts:

Changes to expect regarding my social media, commissions in general, posting, etc;

Overall Goals for 2021;

and Goals for January specifically.

Changes to expect going forward from here:

I'm going to be making some changes regarding my social media accounts, including this one, mostly concerning when, where, and how I'm posting.

I am also going to be making some changes to my commission policies, prices, and payments in the coming year, namely:

Lastly, I will be making some changes to my art discord server!

Moving forward, I am going to be MOST active on my twitter and tumblr accounts. They're just easier for me to maintain in general, and although I hate twitter's formatting, it's just easier and faster, and frankly after deviantART and Instagram fucked with their websites/algorithms, it just makes the most sense for me as an artist.

I'm also going to be making an effort to make scheduled cross-posts on all my accounts. In the past, I've been really irregular about when and where I post things (most things got posted to my old tumblr account but never here, i rarely remember to post to instagram, etc).

This is going to include commission slots, finished piece dumps, etc.

I will also be making an effort to semi-regularly post sketch dumps, both digitial and traditional. I am also considering at this time offering a monthly digital download of my sketch collections, though I am undecided as I'm not really sure how many people would be interested.

Increasing commissions prices to reflect time spent working on specific commission types, as well as my personal cost of living.

Planning and announcing commission slots in advance.

Taking and finishing regular commissions to cover living expenses on a monthly basis

Payments will be exclusively through paypal invoice, and will be broken up in halves: first half will be taken up front after I have started and given proof of start (base sketch), the second half will be paid after completion, with WIPS given between first and second payment. Fully completed art will be given after receipt of second half. This is both for my personal protection as an artist, as well as for the comfort of the commissioner as my completion time can sometimes be long due to my ADHD/executive dysfunction.

Moving forward into 2020, my discord will be SFW, but 18+ only. This is a personal comfort thing. I'm 25 years old now, and just really don't want to spend time hanging out with teenagers.

I'm also going to start trying to schedule art streams again! Since this is the only place I can live stream due to my art computer's limitations, it just makes sense to like. Schedule them so more people are able to attend. I haven't decided exactly how that's going to look, but once I have I'm going to make an announcement and formatting guide somewhere for people to see so they can make an informed decision about joining the server.

I will also be regularly posting in the server again. This may or may not be cross posts from twitter and such, we'll see, but I DO plan on being more active there since it's been kind of dead.

I may also reformat the whole server again. We'll see!

Goals for 2021

Regular Adopt Sets -- 2-3 per month. Size, price, and number in set will be decided on case by case basis.

I'll be doing a monthly prompt for myself as well. This is just to get me back in the habit of creating things I like for myself to just feel... less bad about my art in general, and about making art. Also it'll be good for my artistic development i think?

Keeping a monthly sketchbook for warm-ups and in-between pieces. May be offered as a paid download at the end of the month, we'll see.

Might start a patreon? This is EXTREMELY dependent on what my userbase looks like. Tiers and rewards to be decided at a later date

Regular traditional sketches + scan and upload of said sketches. May also be offered in the monthly sketchbook.

Draw more self portraits & self-expression pieces! I don't know if any of yall realize how repressed I've been in the last year without therapy, and I did't either until I forced myself to pursue a vent piece earlier this month, and then felt immensely better afterward so. Going to start doing that! Maybe I'll feel better weee

Regular posting to social media! (see changes above)

Drawing less fantrolls bc I'm just bleh about them lately, drawing more original content!

Drawing fancontent that ISN'T homestuck? We'll see but I'd like to. I don't usually draw fan art bc like. Idk in my mind I don't feel like my interpretation of things is important or cool and I think thats a confidence thing and I'd like to change that so! I'm gonna start making more fan content.

Draw more full illustrations & backgrounds in general because I actually enjoy doing them it turns out?

Practice painting more !! Both traditionally and digitally....

Goals for January 2021

Finish at LEAST 1/4 of my art queue. I'm shooting for half, really, because fully completing it might actually kill me but! We'll see! Maybe I'll surprise myself. But I'm setting the goal low to keep my mental health problems in mind.

Finish and release the base set i've been working on, on and off. It's an homage to the old pixel doll days of 2009-2012, and the full sheet will be free to use (with stipulations, as I have some people blocked that I don't want using it). BUT! There will also be a mix and match .psd that will be pay to use (it'll be pay to use a, bc it'll be huge, and b, bc the edits to make it mix and match results in like 6 seperate bases in general so.... yeah. pay to use)

Finish the pay-to-use base pack i started in june (i may scrap and restart though, we'll see)

Possibly release all old p2u bases of mine in one pack on gumroad? price tbd but it will include old iterations as well as unreleased remakes.

Making some dainty-specific bases! One will be f2u, one will be p2u.

I have a whole dainty YCH set for january! I just have to finish the example... (:

Perhaps I'll be announcing a collaborative project later in the month! It depends on where each of us are at, at the time! We'll see! (: You should be excited though! It'll be a ton of fun!

EXTERNAL LINKS

Instagram

Twitter

Tumblr

deviantART

Discord server

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alonely-dreamer · 5 years

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The Valuable Sun | Chapter 1

Summary: Brooklynne Stackhouse is Sookie and Jason Stackhouse’s little sister. Like her older sibling, she is a telepath, but her powers are far more stronger and far more uncontrollable than her sister’s. After a series of murders in Bon Temps, Sookie takes it upon herself to investigate, taking her younger sister with her in a club called Fangtasia, where they meet vampire and sheriff Eric Northman.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+ (language, blood...)

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 8088

Schedule: A new chapter will be posted every Monday. Chapter 2 to 8 are available on my Patreon for early and instant access.

Masterlist

It was a warm night in Bon Temps, just a little after midnight. Adele Stackhouse was playing cards with her granddaughter, Brooklynne Stackhouse, in her kitchen. Entertaining the 23-year-old girl was nothing unusual for the old lady. Brooke had special needs. Not that she had any disability in particular, on the contrary, she had special abilities, some would even say supernatural ones.

Like her sister, Sookie Stackhouse, Brooklynne was a telepath. But she was more than that. Her strong telepathic ability made it difficult for her to focus on anything and she spent most of her time, like most of her life, trying to control it. And that’s what she was doing. Playing cards with her grandmother was a fun ritual but also a good exercise. The rule was simple: don’t cheat.

Brooklynne Stackhouse was bored most of the time. It’s not that she wasn’t allowed to leave her house, she just shouldn’t. So, she read a lot. Listened to music. Learnt new things on the internet. Danced. Sang. Played with her grandmother.

As Adele was about to win their current game, her first granddaughter interrupted them. Sookie was coming back from work, the blonde 25-year-old was wearing her uniform, the shorts and the white shirt with “Merlotte’s” written on it. She appeared to be in a great mood.

“Hey Gran.”

“Hi, honey,” Adele greeted her with a smile as she removed her glasses. She was wearing a long and white old-fashioned nightgown.

“Guess what happened tonight?”

Adele thought for a moment and a smile formed on her face.

“You got a date!”

Sookie frowned.

“Um… no…” she said, a bit bothered, “a vampire came into the bar!” she told her before Adele had the chance to be disappointed.

The old woman gasped. “Oh! Did he have fangs?”

Brooke chuckled quietly.

“Yeah, but most of the time they stayed put away.”

“Did he bite anybody?”

“No,” Sookie laughed. “He just had a glass of wine. Well, he ordered it but didn’t drink it. I think he just wanted some company.”

“Did you like him?” Adele asked with a grin and Brooke looked up at her big sister, curious too.

Sookie looked down and shrugged.

“He was real interesting.”

Adele smiled and hummed, looking at her granddaughter as if she could see right through her. Brooklynne actually could. Sookie’s thoughts echoed in her head as she heard them in her sister’s mind.

“You know what else?” she said as she sat down next to her. “I couldn’t read his thoughts.”

Brooklynne’s smile disappeared as she focused on her sister’s face. “Quiet?” She asked silently.

“Yep,” Sookie replied out loud. “I guess we can’t read vampires’ thoughts because they’re dead. It was so peaceful,” she sighed as she remembered being alone with him.

As the night’s events went through her head, Brooklynne saw it all. Bill, the vampire, entering Merlotte’s, ordering the wine, being attacked in the parking lot, Sookie rescuing him. The silence.

“Dangerous,” Brooklynne said as she looked back at her cards.

Sookie knew what she was referring to, but she didn’t want to alert her grandmother so didn’t reply.

“I’ll let you go to bed,” Sookie said as she got up.

She kissed her grandmother’s cheek before walking up to her bedroom.

“G’night Brooke.”

“Dream sweet dreams for me,” she sang quietly, like she would sometimes.

“Come on, honey, let’s finish this game.”

***

It was a hot morning. Sookie took the opportunity to put on a two-piece bathing suit and lie down a lounge chair, thinking about nothing but the vampire she had met the night before, and the weird dream that followed. Brooklynne was near her, wearing a short yellow dress, her long blonde hair brought up in a ponytail, and dancing barefoot on the grass. The music was in her head. She wasn’t paying attention to anything. Not even to her brother who had just stopped his truck in front of her. He got out quickly, not even bothering to say hello, shut the door of his car and walked straight up to Sookie.

“Hey! How come you didn’t tell me you beat up the Rattrays last night?”

“I haven’t even seen you since then!”

“Where’s Gran?”

“Hanging the laundry out back, and you keep your voice down! I don’t want her to know about any of this.”

“Fortenberry couldn’t wait till I got to work this morning to tell me about it!”

“Hoyt Fortenberry? How the heck does he know?”

“He went over to the Rats last night to buy some weed. And Denise drove up like she wanted to kill somebody, she was so mad. The only way she would sell him any weed was if he would drive Mack to the hospital in Monroe.”

“Uh-huh. Well, did Hoyt tell you that Mack came after me with a knife?”

“Motherfucker! You want me to kick his ass?”

“I already took care of that, thank you.”

Jason nodded, content to hear that justice had already been served.

“Well did you know that in addition to drugs, the Rats also happen to be vampire drainers?” she asked, and her brother frowned. “Yep. One of my customers last night was a vampire and they were draining him in the parking lot. I couldn’t have that.”

Jason took a deep breath, as if he were angry. Brooke was listening to them but when she heard why Jason didn’t like vampires, she took an interest in the conversation.

“Sookie, you do not want to get mixed up with vampires. Trust me.”

“Oh, shut up. Even if you hate vampires, you can’t let trash like the Rats go and drain them. It’s not like siphoning gas out of a car. They would have left him to die.”

“Who fucking cares? He’s already dead.”

“That’s not his fault!”

Jason sighed. He was about to walk out when a thought crossed his mind.

“What did he look like?”

“Handsome… in a sorta… sorta old-fashioned, like from a movie on TCM.”

“Was he bald-headed?”

“No,” she almost chuckled. “He had really nice hair.”

“Tattoos?”

“None that I could see,” she shrugged.

“It’s not your fault that they hover,” Brooklynne suddenly started to sing as she kept dancing, looking up at the sky as if her siblings weren’t just right in front of her, “I mean no disrespect, it’s my right to be hellish, I still get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” Jason stopped her and she laughed with her usual childlike laugh.

“Jason!” Adele interrupted them. She was walking towards them with a basket of wet laundry. “Sakes alive, boy, where have you been keeping yourself? You get on over here and hug my neck.”

“You get here, Gran,” he said as he stepped towards her to do as she said. “How’s my girl?”

“You’re all sweaty.”

“I know.”

“You want some iced tea?”

“I would love some iced tea,” he nodded as he let her grandmother drag him inside the house.

***

Jason stayed for lunch, during which he ate all of his food and most of Sookie’s and Brooke’s who were used to it. The phone rang, making Adele get up and leave the kitchen. Brooklynne focused on neither of their thoughts but rather escaped her own. She did that, sometimes. She left. Her body was still there, but her mind was travelling. She often went to “other worlds” as Adele called them. The doctors called it ADD. Brooke had no name for it as she wasn’t always in the same place. At that moment, like most of the time, she was at the pond in the cemetery, except there was more light and more sun but it wasn’t hot. There were other people there, but they couldn’t see each other, she just felt their presence.

“Brooke, stay with us,” she heard Sookie say and she came back.

She looked around and her siblings were still eating their food, but Adele was nowhere to be found. She could hear her on the phone in the other room.

“How long?” she asked.

“You’ve only been gone for about 5 minutes,” Sookie replied.

“Enough time for me to eat your food,” Jason smirked. “You weren’t hungry, were you?”

She didn’t answer. She never really did.

“That was Everlee Mason,” Adele said as she walked back in the kitchen with the phone in her hand. She had a horrified look on her face. “Guess who was found strangled to death in her apartment? Maudette Pickens.”

It was like an alarm ringing inside Brooklynne’s head, and it was coming from her brother’s mind. Jason had a worried look on his face and it didn’t take long for Brooklynne to find out everything.

“Oh my Lord,” Sookie breathed out.

“She didn’t show up to work and wasn’t answering her phone, and so her boss called Bud Dearborne. He rode over, got the manager to let him in and they found her.”

“I went to high school with Maudette!”

“Can you believe it? A murder in Bon Temps?”

“Well, why are you surprised?” Jason spoke up. “Now that we got ourselves a vampire.”

“Just because he’s a vampire doesn’t mean he’s a murderer,” Sookie objected.

“Oh, come on! Fang-bangers go missing all the time in Shreveport. New Orleans. They never find them, but everybody knows the vampires are killing them and then disposing of the bodies.”

“What’s a ‘fang-banger’?”

“A vampire groupie,” Sookie answered, but that didn’t help her grandmother much. “Men and women who like to get bitten…”

“My stars!”

“Maudette was a fang-banger?” Sookie asked, more than surprised. “How do you know that?”

Jason didn’t answer right away. He was stuck. Brooke was listening silently to his every thought, but guilt and worry was all over his face.

“I don’t know, Sookie!” he replied loudly, with a defensive tone. “The way that you just know things sometimes!” he hit the table with his fist before he got up and took his plate to the sink.

Sookie watched him walk around the table carefully but didn’t reply. Her brother put down his plate and turned around, leaning against the sink.

He sighed. “There’s also hookers who specialize in vampires,” he told them with a calmer tone, “they drink Tru Blood to keep their supply up and they keep a bodyguard there in case the vamp gets a little too frisky,” he finished with a grin as if he thought the information amusing.

His sisters and grandmother did not, however, find that information amusing, and just stared at him in silence with a curious and suspicious look. Even though Sookie was trying to stay out of her brother’s mind, it was not a choice for Brooklynne who already knew everything.

“I read that in a magazine,” he lied.

“I wonder how much one would charge for something like that,” Adele said.

“A thousand bucks,” he answered, almost too quickly.

“See, now that just makes me sick,” Sookie sighed.

“I know,” Adele agreed, “what kind of cheap woman could ever do something like that?”

“No, it makes me sick that they’re getting a thousand bucks to lay there and do nothing while I bust my ass for 10 bucks an hour plus tips,” she clarified.

“Oh, I don’t think they just lay there,” Jason added with another grin, “I think they’re expected to… you know, participate.”

“Ew,” the waitress grimaced.

“Yeah,” Jason chuckled.

But his smile gradually disappeared as his eyes wandered around and his mind got lost in dark thoughts. The sudden change made Sookie curious and she focused on her brother’s mind, trying to hear something.

“Well, uh… thanks for lunch, Gran,” he said before he walked out of the kitchen.

Brooke watched as her sister got up and went after their brother. Sookie stopped him, putting her hands on his shoulders and turning him around to face her.

“What?” he asked with a frown.

She didn’t answer and took his face in her hands, closing her eyes as a way to focus.

“This can’t be happening to me. How could I lose control? How come she…”

But before he could finish his thought, he realized what she was doing and stopped her. He pushed her hands away and stepped back.

“Don’t try that with me, goddamn it! I’m your brother!” he shouted before he left the house.

Sookie watched him leave and didn’t try to stop him this time. She slowly made her way back to the kitchen where Adele was waiting for an explanation. Brooklynne wasn’t paying attention anymore, and she was playing with a lock of hair, twirling it around her finger, looking at it like it contained the answer to the meaning of life. When she was like this, people around her had just started to assume that they could say anything, and she wouldn’t hear them. But she did. She heard everything, spoken or unspoken. She was just really good at keeping secrets. Especially other people’s secrets.

***

Sookie left in the evening with a mission. Of course, she was going to work, but she had another task to accomplish. Adele Stackhouse was head of the Descendants of the Glorious Dead, a social organization she created to honor the American Civil War. People met to discuss the war and the effects it had on Bon Temps. Adele wondered if Bill would agree to come and speak at one of their meetings about his recollections of the war. Sookie agreed to ask him, it was a good excuse to speak to him again, after all. It was all Adele could think about that night, as she played Scrabble with her granddaughter. She tried to stay up as late as she could to ask Sookie when she came back from work but as she was falling asleep on the couch, she went to bed around 1AM, after she made sure Brooklynne was sleeping in her room.

It was the first thing they talked about in the morning. Sookie was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing the top of a green bathing suit with white dots and a very short white dress with green flowers. She was watching TV, listening to Reverend Theodore Newlin screaming at Nan Flanagan, a vampire rights advocate from the American Vampire League. Brooklynne was there too, sitting in front of her sister and turning her back on the TV. She was playing with the bottom of her green lime shirt and tugging at it.

“I don’t think Jesus would mind if somebody was a vampire,” Sookie told her grandmother who was fixing breakfast.

“I don’t either, honey,” she said as she put a plate of food on the table.

Sookie took a bite and hummed. “Is this sausage different from what you usually make?”

“No.”

“Uh… It tastes so much more complex than it usually does.”

“Oh dear, you think it’s gone bad?”

“No, it’s delicious. It’s like, I can close my eyes and I can see the farm the pig lived on and feel the sun and rain on my face and even taste the earth that the herbs grew out of.”

Adele stared at her with surprise and curiosity. She didn’t understand where all of this was coming from.

Brooklynne laughed. “You’re weird.”

They were interrupted by the sound of the back door opening and closing.

“Hey, Miss Stackhouse,” Tara said with a smile as she stepped in the kitchen. She was wearing a blue top and a pair of jeans and her black hair was tied up in a messy bun.

“Good morning, Tara,” Adele greeted.

Tara went for the coffee pot, but it was empty. As she was about to make more, Adele stopped her.

“No, you sit down. I’ll make a new pot,” she said before she kissed her forehead.

“All right,” Tara laughed.

She sat between Sookie and Brooklynne with an empty mug in her hand.

“What’s up, Brooke?”

The girl raised her head and smiled as soon as she saw her friend, as if she hadn’t heard her come in.

“Hi Tara.”

“What are we thinking about today?”

Brooklynne ignored the question, as always, and leaned forward, putting her pale hand on Tara’s dark arm.

“You’re pretty,” she smiled.

Tara laughed. “Well, aren’t you cute?”

Brooklynne smiled again but didn’t reply. She then leaned back in her seat and started playing with the bottom of her shirt again, ignoring the rest of the world.

“Any news about Jason?”

“Yeah, we heard from Everly already. They let him go last night.”

“I knew they would.”

“I didn’t,” Sookie shrugged.

Tara was offended by the lack of faith her sister had in her brother. He was dumb, for sure, but he wasn’t a murderer.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re still alive. You obviously did not hook up with that vampire last night.”

Brooklynne chuckled, still looking down at her lap. Sookie and Tara gave her a quick look but went back to ignoring her. The look on Sookie’s face answered Tara’s question.

“Oh, Sookie, sometimes you are just plain dumb.”

“Shut up! Luckily Gran was in bed when I got in last night.”

“Did he bite you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? You know they can hypnotize you.”

“Yeah, and black people are lazy, and Jews have horns!”

Tara rolled her eyes. She turned around when she heard Adele coming back in the kitchen.

“You must be glad they let Jason go, huh, Miss Stackhouse.”

“I can’t even believe that they arrested him to begin with! I have a good mind to call Bud Dearborne and chew him out. Jason’s a good boy. Everybody knows that.”

Brooklynne chuckled again. No one had time to say anything more as the phone started to ring and Adele picked it up.

“Hello? Oh, hey! Everley!” she greeted over the phone as she left the kitchen.

As soon as she was gone, Jason came in by the backdoor.

“Am I too late for breakfast?” he asked. “Oh, hey Tara!”

“Hey. Hey Jason,” she stuttered like a 15-year-old talking to her crush. “I’m so glad they didn’t lock you up.”

Jason opened the fridge and took out a plate of cold sausages. He froze for a few seconds then turned around and leaned against the fridge.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, me too. I don’t even know why they suspected me,” he continued as he took a bite of a sausage. “I think somebody heard I’d been with Maudette?”

“Had you?” Sookie asked.

“No,” he answered with an annoyed tone.

“Are you sure? She was a woman,” his sister insisted.

Jason sighed in annoyance. “That’s funny. At least she was human.”

Sookie gave him a dark look but didn’t have time to come up with an answer as her grandmother came back in the kitchen with some news.

“You will never believe what happened,” she said with excitement, “Oh, hey Jason.”

“Hey, Gran.”

“You sit down. I’ll fix you breakfast.”

“What happened?” Sookie asked.

“Well, apparently, a tornado touched down over at Four Tracks Corners,” she said with a sudden dark tone, “It turned over that rent trailer in the clearing. You know the one?”

“Uh-huh…”

��And it killed that couple that’s been staying in there.”

“Wh- Mack and Denise Rattray?” Jason asked.

“They were trapped under the trailer. Mike Spencer said they were crushed to a pulp.”

Brooklynne laughed out loud suddenly, and even though they all turned to look at her, they didn’t think it was because of what Adele had just said. She just did that, sometimes.

“A tornado,” she repeated with a small laugh as she played with the bottom of her shirt.

***

Adele spent the day cleaning the house. Brooklynne helped at the beginning but quickly got distracted. She was laying on the couch, looking at her own hair, when Sookie came back in the house. Adele was vacuuming in the living room.

“You know, he sleeps in the ground all day. I don’t think he’s gonna even look at the rug.”

“I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for me. So I can be proud of my home. And how do you know where he sleeps?”

“I don’t, actually,” she chuckled. She then tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “What’s that smell?”

Adele turned off the vacuum. “What smell?”

Brooklynne sat up and watched her sister sniff around the living room.

“It smells like rotten food or something. You can’t smell that?”

Adele shook her head no and Brooklynne shrugged.

“Well find it.”

Sookie took a few more steps and pushed the armchair a little, then bent over and found a piece of old biscuit on the floor.

“Uh, you can’t smell this?”

Adele shook her head no again and gave her granddaughter a weird look.

“Well, I better throw this out.”

As she was about to exit the living room, her grandmother stopped her.

“Oh, Sookie?”

“Yeah?”

“Jason and Tara are coming over this evening as well.”

Sookie’s eyes grew big as bad scenarios went through her mind.

“Gran…”

“Well, they invited themselves. Jason said that he wants to meet the vampire for himself and… Tara said she thought she ought to be here as well.”

“I don’t know why everyone’s getting their panties in a wad about some stupid vampire!” Sookie whined.

“Did you want to be alone with him?”

Sookie shook her head and shrugged, “I don’t know… maybe…”

Adele grinned.

“Aren’t you gonna tell me to be careful?”

“You’re always careful, Sookie, about what counts. And I can depend on that. Isn’t that right?”

Sookie paused for a minute. She then nodded before she turned around and left.

***

Bill arrived with the night. All eyes were on him. Jason’s were more like daggers. He was looking at the vampire as if he had killed his entire family. Tara’s look was more suspicious, while Brooklynne was extremely curious. Sookie hadn’t lied. She couldn’t hear his thoughts. Not even when she tried. It was completely silent. A peaceful sensation Brooke had never felt before. She was fascinated. So was her grandmother, but for a completely different reason.

“Your people, Mr. Compton, they were from this area, I believe?”

“Yeah, my father’s people were Comptons and my mother’s people were Loudermilks.”

“Oh, there are a lot of Loudermilks left. But I’m afraid old Mr. Jesse Compton died last year.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s why I came back to Bon Temps. There were no living Comptons, so I’ve set up home in the old Compton place. And as I expect the VRA to pass…”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you,” Jason interrupted him. “A lot of Americans don’t think you people deserve special rights.”

“They’re the same rights you have.”

“No, I’m just saying there’s a reason things are the way they are.”

“Yeah. It’s called injustice.”

Jason’s mouth twitched out of anger.

“Listen, it’s called ‘this is how we do it’.”

“Jason!” Adele stopped him. “This is my house. I will not tolerate rudeness!”

Jason grunted but leaned back in the armchair. Bill was obviously angry, and it was his eyes now that were daggers.

“Did you know the Stackhouses, Mr. Compton?” Adele continued her interrogation.

“Yes, um… I remember Jonas Stackhouse. He and his wife moved here when Bon Temps was just a hole in the road. I was a young man of 16. Isn’t this the house he built? I mean, at least in part?”

“Yes, it was,” Adele nodded with enthusiasm.

“Did you own slaves?”

“Tara!” Sookie breathed out, surprised by the sudden question.

“I did not. But my father did. A house slave, a middle-aged woman whose name I cannot recall and a yard slave, a young, strong man named Minas.”

“Oh, these are just the sort of things my club will be so interested in hearing about.”

“About slaves?” Tara asked quite aggressively.

“Well… about anything having to do with that time…”

An awkward and uncomfortable silence settled which was mercifully broken by Bill.

“I look forward to speaking to your club, Mrs. Stackhouse.”

Adele laughed like a 16-year-old.

“Now… if it’s alright with you, I thought that Sookie and I might take a walk. It’s such a lovely night.”

“Well, it’s alright with me if it’s alright with Sookie.”

Jason put his beer down and got up.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

“Jason, sit down and shut up,” Brooklynne said calmly, calmer than anyone who would say that would, as if she expected him to comply instantly. And he did.

Bill frowned as he watched the young Stackhouse immobile in his seat. It was as if she had just glamoured him without even looking at him, without even having the powers of a vampire.

“Um… shall we?” Bill asked Sookie as he held his hand.

“We shall,” she said as she took it.

Once they were out of the house, Jason turned to look at his sister and complained.

“I told you not to do that to me! You made me look like a fool in front of him!”

“Oh Jason,” Adele said as she got up, “You don’t need any help to look like a fool.”

***

Brooklynne was lying in her bed, in the darkness of her room, when Sookie came back home. The entire evening was still fresh in her memory and Brooke saw all of it. She learnt that Bill’s blood was inside Sookie, that it was the reason for her acute senses and the weird wet dreams, and that Bill would be able to find Sookie at any time. To feel her when she was in trouble and come to the rescue as fast as possible. Information Sookie had had trouble to take in. But not for long as the evening ended with a kiss. And the night ended with another wet dream.

***

Days passed and Sookie kept seeing Bill. Though it seemed she wasn’t sure about her feelings. She had admitted to Adele and Brooklynne she was scared of him and Brooklynne knew why. She knew everything all the time. That’s why she was always so tired, so absent. But she was aware.

Sookie had had an unfortunate meeting with three other vampires, a moment during which Bill showed his dark side, his vampire side. He called her ‘his’, so that other vampires would leave her alone, as if it made her safe or safer.

She thought she was at least safe during the day, but even that proved to be untrue as one morning, while she was doing a favor for Sam, her boss, she found her colleague, Dawn, a waitress and Jason’s ‘friend’, dead in her bed. That same morning, Jason got arrested again.

Adele was worried. She knew people would want to know who was killing those young ladies and she was afraid they’d come after Jason. She asked Sookie to keep her ears open and to listen carefully in case she would hear the killer or find out who had done it.

Brooklynne wanted to help too, but she knew her grandmother wouldn’t let her leave the house.

An opportunity arose, however, when Sookie came back home from work sooner than she should have. She had made plans with Bill to go to a vampire bar in Shreveport called ‘Fangtasia’ and try to find some information that would help Jason. Brooke wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass.

“I’m going with you.”

“No way!” Sookie said as she fixed her makeup. “I’m not taking you to a vampire bar!”

“Why not? You’re going! And I’m bored! I wanna leave the house and I wanna help, you know I can do it!”

“I know you can do it, it’s not about that, it’s just… it’s too dangerous!”

“I can defend myself, you know that!”

“I also know that other people, especially vampires, shouldn’t know it.”

“Well, I’m going with you, I’m not asking. I’m an adult and I can do whatever I want.”

Sookie sighed. She stayed silent for a minute, fixed her outfit, a white dress with red flowers on it, and put on her shoes, red ballerina flats.

“He thinks it’s a date,” Brooke continued.

“What?”

“He thinks it’s a date. If I’m there, there would be no doubt about it.”

“How do you know what he thinks?”

“I watch movies,” she shrugged. “A lot of them.”

Sookie rolled her eyes. It was a good argument though she didn’t really mind being alone with Bill. But she didn’t want him to know that.

“Fine! You can come with me.”

Brooklynne smiled, victorious.

“But you have to stay with me, all the time.”

“I will,” she nodded. “I won’t leave your side, I promise.”

“And you have to stay focused. Be careful.”

“I will! I promise!”

“Fine then,” Sookie sighed. “Come on.”

***

“Wh- you’re taking Brooke?” Adele asked Sookie in a whisper as if her granddaughter wouldn’t hear her.

“She can help. And it’ll be good for her to leave the house.”

“Well, I agree, but… a vampire bar isn’t the safest place…”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Stackhouse,” Bill interrupted her. “I promise no harm will come to your granddaughters.”

Adele smiled awkwardly. “Ah, well… if you insist…” she said with worry in her voice.

“Good night, Mrs. Stackhouse.”

“Oh, go- good night, Mr. Compton. Be careful girls.”

“Bye, Gran.”

The three of them left the house and got into Bill’s car, Sookie in the passenger seat and Brooklynne in the back. She was wearing one of Sookie’s dresses, a short yellow sleeveless gown, and a pair of low heels yellow pumps. Her long blonde hair was caressing her nude back. She was excited to finally be going out, to meet more vampires, and to clear her brother’s name.

***

When they arrived at Fangtasia, Sookie immediately took her sister’s hand, to make sure she wouldn’t go anywhere. As they were walking towards the bar, Bill put his arm around Sookie’s waist and brought her to him, in a protective way. It was awkward to be holding her sister’s hand while being in the arms of a man and she unconsciously let her sister’s hand go.

Once they were inside, they were immediately greeted by a female blonde vampire wearing a leather black sleeveless dress and high heel pumps. She was wearing a lot of makeup, including a very red lipstick.

“Bill. Haven’t seen you in a while,” she said in a completely disinterested tone.

“I’m mainstreaming.”

“Good for you,” she almost rolled her eyes as she replied with a bored tone as if she didn’t care or didn’t like it, “Who’s the doll?” she asked, sounding almost interested.

“Pam this is Sookie, and her sister, Brooklynne. Sookie, Brooklynne, this is Pam.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Sookie smiled at her as she held out her hand.

Pam looked at it as if it contained the plague.

“Can I see your ID?”

The request made Sookie laugh, however she understood why she would ask. Brooklynne looked like a teenager.

“I can no longer tell human ages. We must be careful we serve no minors, in any capacity.”

She took a look at both IDs before she gave them back to their owners.

“Twenty-five, huh? How sweet it is,” she said as she looked at Bill. She was mostly interested by Sookie, probably because she was the one in Bill’s arms, Brooklynne thought.

She finally let them pass and Brooklynne took her sister’s hand again as they walked past Pam.

The club was crowded, loud, dark and red. There were dancers everywhere, male and female, some vampires, some humans, most of them were half naked, wearing black leather and black lipstick. It was almost like the cliché vampire bar one would imagine. The humans came for the danger, the vampires came for the fun of it.

“This feels a little bit like what a vampire bar would look like if it were a… a ride at Disney World,” Sookie said. However, Brooklynne couldn’t picture any of this in Disney World. Too much nudity.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable. It tends to get more authentic as the night wears on.”

“There are more humans here than vampires,” Brooklynne noticed as the loud thoughts of the customers echoed in her head.

They took the direction of the bar where a vampire asked them what they wanted to drink. He had medium long black hair, dark eyes, and tattoos on both arms. He was shirtless, only wearing a sleeveless black leather vest. He looked tired, though maybe that was just because of the eyeliner around his eyes.

“How’s it going Bill?”

“Very well.”

“I’ll say it is. This is your meal for tonight?”

“This is my friend Sookie, and her sister, Brooklynne. Sookie, Brooklynne, Longshadow.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sookie politely greeted, but once again received no answer. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

“And I’ll have a bottle of O-negative.”

“And what about the sister?”

Brooklynne didn’t give him an answer. She didn’t realize he was talking to her. The voices in her head were too loud and she got distracted. Sookie took her hand, making her sister look at her and focus once again.

“She’ll have a coke,” Sookie answered for her.

“Longshadow, Sookie here, would like to know if she could ask you a few questions. Would this be acceptable?”

“I just have a couple of pictures I’d love you to take a look at,” she said as she took the photos of Maudette and Dawn out of her bag, “Do you recognize either of these women?”

Longshadow took the pictures and put them on the bar.

“Yeah, I’ve seen them both here before.”

“Great! Thank you,” Sookie said quickly and enthusiastically, as she was happy he was cooperating and wanted him to continue, “Do you also happen to remember who they hung around with?”

“That’s something we don’t notice here. You won’t either.”

“Okay, then. Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time.”

“This one,” he said as he took Maudette’s picture. “She wanted to die.”

Sookie frowned. “How do you know?”

“Everyone who comes here does, in their own way. That’s who we are: Death.”

Sookie didn’t reply. What could she say to that? Bill paid for the drinks and they walked away. They settled at a table and Sookie started listening to the people around her. Brooklynne was already “scanning” the area. She tried to block out the music which she found horrible. A man was screaming some words she couldn’t understand over loud guitar and drums. She found other people’s thoughts more pleasant for once.

Sookie heard a man among the crowd of clients, he was thinking about the blond vampire sitting on the throne on the stage at the end of the room. He walked slowly towards him and kneeled near him. He put his hand on the vampire’s leg and started moving it up his thigh. Suddenly, the vampire, who had been silently staring at the bald man until then, got up with vampire speed, and pushed him away. The man, who looked like he was in his forties, fell down and hurt his head which started to bleed. A female vampire with short brown hair and a short black dress helped the human get up and they disappeared in an instant.

“Still think you’re in Disneyland?” Bill told Sookie who chose to ignore him.

“Do you hear anything?” Sookie asked her little sister.

“A lot of things,” she replied. “Nothing helpful. It’s loud.”

“How come no one fucked me? I got a dog collar too.”

“Morticia, how’d you like me to rip that tape off your tits?”

“It ain’t gay if a guy’s a vampire, is it?”

“I’m gonna get kicked out of my frat if I don’t fuck a vampire tonight.”

“You’re able to pick up anything?” Bill asked Sookie after a while.

“All anyone’s thinking about here is sex, sex, sex.”

“One needn’t be telepathic to pick up on that.”

Suddenly, Bill straightened up. “Uh-oh.”

“Don’t say ‘uh-oh’. Vampires are not supposed to say ‘uh-oh’!”

“It’s Eric,” he said as he looked at the blond vampire on the ‘throne’. “He’s scanned you twice. He’s going to summon us,” he told her like it was a bad thing, something he’d had preferred to avoid.

“He can do that?”

“Oh, yeah...”

And as he said it, Eric gestured for them to come. Bill held out his hand but before she took it, she looked over at her sister, who was looking inside her empty glass of coke. Gone, as usual.

“Brooklynne, come on.”

The girl looked up and gave her a confused look.

“Come on,” Sookie said again as she took her hand.

Sookie squeezed her sister’s hand as they approached Eric. Pam was standing behind him, her arm resting on the top of the ‘throne’.

“Bill Compton. It has been a while.”

“Yes, well, I’ve been…”

“Mainstreaming,” Eric cut him off. He said it with a grin, as if it was something to be ashamed of. “I heard.” He looked over at Sookie, who was on Bill’s left, holding his hand. “I see that is going well for you.” He then, looked at Brooklynne, who was standing a little behind Sookie, squeezing her sister’s hand too, and looking at Eric and Pam with a sort of fascination. The silence in their head was relaxing. “Very well, apparently,” he chuckled.

“Yes, of course, sorry,” Bill said. “Eric, these are my friends…”

“Sookie and Brooklynne Stackhouse.”

“How do you know our names?”

“I never forget a pretty face. You’re in my vault,” Pam said as she pointed a finger at her head.

“Great. That’s just great,” Sookie blabbered, not sure how to handle that information. “It’s nice to meet you,” she told Eric.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” he grinned mockingly.

“Not really.”

As she said it, Bill squeezed her hand to stop her and Brooklynne laughed. It was a childlike laugh. A laugh that Eric never thought he’d hear in Fangtasia and a laugh that had no place in his club. It made Eric smirk.

“Vår lilla djurpark börjar växa till sig,” Eric said. (Looks like our zoo is growing.)

“Jag vet,” Pam replied. (I know.)

“I think he just called you a pet,” Brooke whispered in Sookie’s ear.

“How do you know?” her sister gave her a weird look which Brooklynne ignored.

“You speak Swedish?” Eric asked, suddenly very interested.

“Ja. Inte lika bra som dig,” she said with an amused smile. (Yes. But not better than you.)

“You speak Swedish?” Sookie was taken aback. “How?”

“The internet,” she shrugged.

“Well, your friend is full of surprises, Bill,” Eric grinned.

“I know right?” Sookie sulked.

“I understand you’ve been asking questions about some of my customers.”

“Yes, I have.”

“If you have anything to ask, you should ask it of me.”

“Alrighty,” Sookie nodded. She took out the pictures from her bag and gave them to Eric. “You recognize either one of these girls?”

He took a look at them and smirked as he hummed, probably remembering something pleasant.

“This one offered herself to me,” he said, pointing at the photo of Maudette. “But I found her too pathetic for my attentions. Now, this one, however,” he continued, pointing at Dawn, “I have tasted.”

“I remember them both,” Pam said.

“On account of the vault?” Sookie asked, not caring she was being sassy with a vampire, or not realizing it. Brooklynne laughed quietly, looking up at her big sister. Bill quickly took Sookie’s hand again, to stop her. Eric noticed. Pam didn’t budge. “Never had either of them, though. They weren’t really my type.”

“Are you hearing anything?” Sookie asked silently to her sister who shook her head no.

“Well, thank you very much. That is all your time I need to take,” Sookie said as she took the pictures back from Eric.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he said quickly and dryly. “Please,” he gave her a fake smile that didn’t seem friendly at all, “Sit.”

Sookie looked over at Bill and she understood from the look on his face that they didn’t really have a choice. She looked at the chairs next to Eric’s ‘throne’, one on his right and one on his left, and realized there wasn’t enough chairs for the three of them. Bill gestured Sookie to sit on Eric’s right while he let Brooklynne sit on his left.

“Well, we can’t let poor Mr. Compton without a chair,” Eric said as he raised a hand stopping Brooklynne from sitting.

“I’m fine.”

“I insist,” Eric continued as he rested his hand on his lap as a silent command to the young woman.

Brooklynne’s eyes grew big, though not out of fear but surprise. She looked at her sister who shook her head no.

“Really, Eric, I’m fine on my feet.”

“Sit,” Eric ordered. He would not be refused.

Bill sighed. He silently and slowly walked over to the chair on Eric’s left and sat down. Eric smirked at Brooklynne as he held out his hand.

“Jag insisterar.” (I insist.)

Brooke hesitated for a few seconds but then smiled, amused, as she took his hand. She sat on his lap, turning her back to Bill and facing her worried sister.

“Oroa dig inte. Jag kommer inte att bita,” he said with a smug smile. (Don’t worry. I won’t bite.)

“Jag är inte orolig,” she replied with a smile of her own as she put her hand on his shoulder. (I’m not worried.)

Eric chuckled, almost impressed. “I like you.” He kept his hands to himself, something Brooklynne appreciated particularly. “So Bill, are you quite attached to your friend?” he asked as he looked Sookie up and down.

“She is mine,” Bill immediately said with a threatening tone.

“Yes, I am his.”

“Good. I imagine you aren’t his, then,” he told Brooklynne as he looked back at her.

“That’s right,” she replied, wondering why he’d even be interested in her, and wishing she could hear what he was thinking, for once.

“Where the fuck are they? My backup was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago. I can’t handle a raid on my own. These fucking vampires…”

The undercover police officer's thoughts resonated in Sookie’s head and set off loud alarms.

“We have to get out of here!” she said suddenly, making Eric and Pam raise their eyebrows and look at her like she was crazy.

“Sookie!” Bill reprimanded her rudeness.

“Eric, the cops are coming! There’s gonna be a raid!”

Brooklynne frowned at the new information. Sookie heard something she didn’t? That was unusual. She straightened up and focused on the room.

“Tell me you’re not an undercover cop,” Eric asked with a threatening tone.

“I’m not but that man in the hat is,” Sookie replied as she gestured towards the man.

“Even if you’re right, we do nothing illegal here.”

“There’s a vampire in the ladies’ room, she’s feeding on a man,” Brooklynne said, in a surprisingly calm tone.

“How do you know this?” Pam asked.

Brooke looked up at her, then at Sookie, who shook her head no. Before she had the chance to reply, however, the police barged in.

“Police! Police! Freeze!”

They all got up at the sudden entrance, and Eric instructed them to follow him.

“Hands where I can see them!”

They exited through the back door.

“I enjoyed meeting you, Miss Stackhouse. You will come again,” he told Brooklynne before he disappeared in the night with Pam.

Bill, Sookie and Brooke ran towards the direction of the car and left as fast as they could. They were quiet in the vehicle, listening to Bill’s foreign music, neither girl could tell what language they were speaking, though Brooklynne imagined it was some kind of Asian language. Brooklynne kept thinking about Eric, how peaceful it had been to be near him, the silence that had overtook her as she was sitting on his lap. She couldn’t figure out why he had found her so interesting though she supposed it didn’t really matter. He probably didn’t want to do anything pleasant with her.

A car appeared suddenly behind them and blinded Bill’s rear-view mirror with a bright yellow light.

“Shoot,” Sookie breathed out as she realized it was a police car. “Pull over.”

Bill obliged. He knew what was coming. A suspicious policeman worried that Bill was taking advantage of two young women. There was only one way he’d get out of this without any issue and he didn’t imagine Sookie would be pleased by what she was about to see him do.

The police car flashed its light behind Bill’s as the officer walked towards the driver’s seat. He knocked on the door and instructed the vampire to open the window.

“Brooke, can you take care of this?” Sookie said suddenly, surprising and confusing Bill.

“With pleasure,” she replied with a satisfied smile. She was happy to finally be allowed to use her abilities.

“Hello, officer,” Sookie greeted.

“Evening, miss. What are you three doing out this late?”

“Nothing. And that’s a good enough answer for you,” Brooke merely said. “Now turn around and drive away.”

Without another word, the police officer did exactly as she said. He got back into his car and drove away.

“How do you do that?” Bill asked, completely baffled.

Brooke shrugged. “I don’t know. I just do it.”

“You can glamour people without any effort! Only vampires can do that!”

“What’s ‘glamour’?”

“Vampires can hypnotize people,” Sookie explained, “make them do things…”

“Can we go home?” she stopped her as if she weren’t interested anymore, “I’m tired.”

Sookie chuckled as if she were used to it.

“Of course,” Bill nodded as he started driving again.

***

The next morning, Brooklynne got up late. The adventures of the previous night had tired her, and she wanted to be well rested to attend her grandmother’s meeting. “Vampire Bill” talking at the church was all the town could talk about that day. It rose curiosity among the people of Bon Temps and a “Descendants of the Glorious Dead” meeting had never seen so many people. Everybody was there. The sheriff, Bud Dearborne, wearing his uniform for some reason. Tara and Jason. Sam Merlotte, who hated Bill, though not so much because he was a vampire but rather because he had a crush on Sookie himself. Arlene, Sookie’s colleague and vampire hater, who had come with René and her two children who had begged her to take them. All the seats of the church were taken. But they were less interested in what he had to say about the Civil War and more about the vampire himself.

Brooklynne was cursed to hear every single one of their thoughts, one more stupid than the other. But she managed to hear what the vampire was saying, despite Sam’s angry thoughts provoked by the mere sight of the vampire, and other dirty images that showed up in his mind about her sister.

The meeting went rather well and even made the crowd wet their eyes. It was a miracle that between a Jason high on V, three stupid high school drop outs armed with garlic, and several vampire haters sitting on every bench, nothing wrong had occurred.

Most of the town headed out to Merlotte’s after the meeting. Bill and Sookie, however, felt like having some alone time together. Adele agreed to let Brooke go to the bar after Sam promised to watch over her. He let her bartend with Tara who taught her how to make some drinks but didn’t let her drink them. She got tired around 2AM however and Sam drove her back. The lights were out which Sam found odd. He was sure Adele would be waiting for her granddaughter.

“Looks like everybody’s sleeping.”

“No, nobody’s home…” she said quietly, more surprised than him. Adele would be at home at this hour. Unless an emergency had forced her to leave. But if that had happened, she’s have called to warn Sam about it.

“How do you know?”

Brooklynne didn’t answer and got out of the car. Sam followed her inside the house. The floor was slippery, and she almost fell as she stepped inside the kitchen. Sam turned on the lights and they were suddenly faced with horror. Blood everywhere. A pool of red liquid surrounding Adele Stackhouse’s dead body. Brooklynne’s mind suddenly became blank. All she could hear was a loud buzzing sound, all she could see was her dead grandmother lying in a pool of her own blood. The buzzing sound turned into a loud shriek. A terrified scream that she didn’t understand was coming from her.

**********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87

#true blood #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #eric northman #eric x oc #eric northman x oc #sookie stackhouse #jason stackhouse #bill compton #reader #imagine #series

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 11

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: Flangst, NSFW

WC: 3946

A/N: Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

This series is more than two weeks ahead on patreon!

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Once back in Dean’s loft, Y/N spends time unpacking and notices that he’s made room for her in his closet. There’s empty drawers as well as an empty coat rack by the door.

Her heart flutters strangely in her chest. He didn’t have to but he did. What does that say about him?

After unpacking, she takes a shower to wash off the day and brushes her teeth. She slips into her panties. Just panties, because that’s what she usually wears at home, and takes a book into bed with her. She figures that she might as well try to stay up as long as possible because Dean’s on a completely different schedule to her. She can mostly work remotely and she doesn’t have fixed times that she needs to be in the office unless there’s a deadline to be met and they are usually in the evenings. Since they’re going to be roomies, she thinks that she’s going to try to adapt to his schedule.

She has a day off tomorrow anyway because Dean had asked her to. She wonders how the anniversary party will be. Apparently, there’ll be a couple of celebrities who will show up. She checked out the club’s website while at work.

It’s about 3am when she feels so tired she can barely keep her eyes open and Dean’s still not here.

Y/N wakes again when she feels something warm between her legs that makes her jerk awake, thinking that she wetted her panties.

Dean’s looking up at her from between her thighs, face buried in her cunt, tongue lapping at her folds.

“Oh my god, Dean,” She chokes out, already so close — hence, she realizes, the thought of peeing.

How long has he been licking at her? She turns her head to see that it’s almost 5am.

“Mmm-hhm,” He raises his eyebrow and looks up at her, humming as he does, while he continues to lick her, continues to fuck his tongue deep inside her pussy. He’s careful not to use his hands and she wonders if it’s because he still thinks that she’s sore.

Her hands fists in his hair and she can’t help but grind her pussy deep into his face because she’s so close. Oh god, he’s so good with his tongue.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” She moans out, arches her back and basically starts to hump his face, all the shame she had before is thrown out of the window.

She feels his arms sneak around her thighs, his big hands going underneath her ass cheek and he lifts her hips up, so he can have better access. She helps him by hooking her legs over his shoulder.

Dean’s scruff rubs along the apex of her thighs. His talented tongue licks between her folds to suck at her little stiff bud, the slurping and licking sounds loud and obscene.

“Please don’t stop, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Her hands searches for something to hold onto, and finds it in the form of the bedsheets because Dean’s head is too far away.

“Mmm-hhm?” He hums. Is he really asking her a question now? She doesn’t know, can’t possibly concentrate.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” She breathes out and clasps one of her hands over her mouth.

“Mmm-hmm,” Dean hums, before she hears lips smacking and then a whisper, “Come for me, baby,” before he seals his lips around her clit again to suck and nibble at her nub.

The humming. Oh god, his humming sends her over the edge and she’s shaking violently. She comes with a trembling of her thighs, squeezing Dean’s head in between.

“Oh my god,” She pants when she comes to her senses and releases him from his confines.

Dean chuckles low, before he climbs up her body. He smells fresh, in fact, she now notices the scent of body wash in the room. She didn’t even notice that he came back and showered as she was sleeping so deeply.

He kisses along her naked chest and nibbles along her throat, his face feels wet. He kisses her then, sucks at her bottom lip, “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,”

The next time she wakes up the sun’s high in the sky. Dean’s already up and dressed, but not in his usual suits. He’s wearing jeans and plaid.

He notices her stirring and comes around with a coffee in his hand. He places it on the nightstand, “Hey,” Dean sits down, smiles bright and white. Almost too bright this early. He leans down, kisses her forehead, “I’m busy the whole day, but I’ll try to make room for you, okay?”

Right. Today’s their party.

She yawns and buries her face deeper into the pillow, making Dean laugh softly, “‘K”

When he’s gone she gets up, thinks about taking a shower but she figures that she’ll do that later when she has to change into her dress. Oh god, she doesn’t know if she’ll have a dress suitable for the party at all. At least she can’t think of a dress off the top of her head.

Maybe she should go shopping, but she’ll see if she can get an apartment viewing appointment so that she can kill two birds with one stone.

Later, when she’s up and functioning, Dean walks in and joins her on the couch. As she finishes her call, he raises one eyebrow at her because she said that she’ll be there in an hour .

“Where are you going?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“I can go and view an apartment. And I think I need to go dress shopping. I don’t think I have anything nice to wear.”

Dean pulls her into his lap, and she can’t say that she minds. She’s come to like the place. He wraps his arms around her, places a kiss on the top of her head and leaves it there. He seems to be thinking, because he doesn’t say anything for a long while.

“Okay,” He finally says, “I’ll send Cas with you. He has a card from the club, he can pay for the dress.”

Her eyes widen and she tilts her head to look up at him, “No, Dean.”

“Yes, Dean,” He chuckles, “I would go with you myself but I can’t get away. Just make sure that you’re back by the time the guests start to show up.” He gets up from the couch with her still in his arms and drops her back onto the couch unceremoniously, making her giggle. Dean leans down again, kisses her lips, “I just wanted to see how you were, I’m needed downstairs. I’ll tell Cas, okay? He’ll be ready when you are.”

“‘K,” She nods, and watches him leave.

Y/N’s sitting in the car with Castiel and it’s weird, to say the least. But again, it was weird seeing Dean the first time too, although she can’t really compare. Cas was never in her class. He was two grades below her so she barely saw him.

He drives her to her possible new apartment, and they try a little small talk to test the water. She asks him a couple of things about their school, but Cas closes up immediately. Apparently, he doesn’t like to talk about that and she makes a mental note never to bring it up again.

“So, you like working for Dean?” She asks, figuring that if he doesn’t want to talk about his past, maybe he’ll want to talk about his present.

Cas’ eyes light up and he smiles, “I love it.”

He says it with so much enthusiasm, it blows her mind.

“You don’t mind orgies and sex rooms, then?”

“Oh,” He chuckles, “At first, yeah. But I got used to it pretty quickly. It’s really just a job, Y/N. It’s business, and it in no way represents how I am in private.”

She raises her eyebrows, “Do you take part?” It blurts out of her unintentionally and she squints her eyes, realizing that it might have been too personal. She stammers, tries to right her wrong, “It’s just… you know, uh, Dean, he said that his employees can take part if they want.”

Castiel chuckles at her helplessness, “Don’t worry, it’s okay,” He looks over to her and smiles, “I do occasionally, if I’m really in the mood. It certainly doesn’t happen every day. I don’t even think it happens every month but yeah, I do.”

Y/N bites on her bottom lip, eyes staring at the hand in her lap. She’s not sure if she should ask Cas? She isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer to the question that’s burning on her tongue.

The car comes to a halt in front of the apartment building and instead of getting out, Cas turns to her, “You wanna ask if Dean’s done it, right?”

Well, she wants to ask, yeah, but how can she say that. She’s not sure if she wants to know the answer to it.

She trains her gaze on her hand and shrugs making Cas laugh.

“Maybe it’ll help to ease your mind if you know that I have never seen him doing anything in the VIP rooms or in any other rooms for that matter,” Cas says, and adds, “Dean’s quite the businessman when he’s working. He doesn’t mix work with pleasure and he’s kind of private about his life and builds his reputation around it. That’s why he has me. I’m the face of the club, not him.” Cas pauses to look at her and she tilts her head, staring back at him. He grins smugly, “And if you really want to know, I’ve never seen him showing anyone the rooms they way he showed you. Also,” He leans closer, invading her space in the car and whispers into her ear, “I knew back in school already that he had a thing for you. Everyone with a set of eyes knew it, Y/N. I didn’t think he ever stopped having a crush on you.”

Great. She’s the only one who didn’t know it then. Fabulous. She groans out and Cas laughs louder. But how does Cas know that Dean never stopped? She gnaws on her bottom lip and there’s a sudden realization.

“The classroom.”

“Exactly,” Cas nods, “He was going crazy setting it up and went above and beyond to make it as authentic as possible.”

The apartment is really great, at her top limit but she can technically afford it. It’s not far from her work, so that’s a pro . It’s a little further from Dean’s apartment, which is probably a con but she’s learned that one can never have it all.

Later, Cas takes her to a boutique downtown after the viewing. Apparently it’s the place where they usually buy their costumes for the employees.

A woman smiles brightly upon seeing Cas, but her smile falls when she sees that Y/N is with him, but maybe she’s just imagining it.

“Hey Carmen,” Cas greets the brown haired woman.

“Where’s Dean?” Is all she asks.

“Busy.” Cas answers short. Y/N can feel Cas’ hand on her lower back and he pushes her forward, “I need a dress for her,”

Carmen eyes her up and down and smirks, “Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Uh,” Y/N starts to say, but realizes that she doesn’t fucking know.

“Sequin, rose gold,” Cas jumps in and Y/N widens her eyes at him to which he winks, “I think that’ll suit you.”

“Oh,” Carmen says, and she dashes back into the store to come forward with a sequin dress in rose gold but the cleavage is so deep, it probably reaches to the middle of her stomach. It’s short too. It would most likely not cover the whole of her ass.

“Carmen, we don’t want to whore her out.” Cas shakes his head, “A long dress please. Something with a slit up her leg?”

“Sure,” Carmen says and goes back. The woman doesn’t look too happy.

Dean walks into his loft when she just finished with her shower.

Dammit , he’s too late. If that stupid press guy could have talked faster, he would have been here on time to join her.

She’s standing in the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair wet, her cheeks flush from the warm shower. Cute is what it is, and Dean can’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“Hey,” He says, hands working on his plaid. He unbuttons it and shrugs it off his shoulders, dropping it onto the bathroom floor.

“Hi,” She smiles. Their eyes meet through the mirror.

He rids himself off his shirt and starts to undo his belt. When he’s finished, he’s naked and walks to stand behind her, lowering his face to her neck and kisses her there. She smells like summer meadow and honey. He could get used to the smell. Could get used to smelling it every day, actually.

“You’re already finished,” He pouts a little for effect, his arms going around her waist, reaching under the robe to touch her bare skin.

“Yeah,” She smiles and turns around in his grip, “I need to keep going if I want to be finished by the time it starts.” She stands on her tip toe, leaves a kiss on his cheek before walking out.

Dean thinks that’s probably wise of her not to let him kiss her for real, because he knows that he wouldn’t be able to resist and that would mean that he, the owner of the club, won’t be ready by the time guests start showing up.

After a while, she walks back into the bathroom with her toiletries and starts to apply her make-up. Dean doesn’t really know why she needs it, but he knows better than to ask dumb questions.

“How was apartment hunting?” He asks while he washes the shampoo from his hair.

“Good,” She looks over to him, a brush in her hand and powder in the other, “I think I’ll take it. It’s affordable,”

“You know that you don’t have to take the first decent one, right? You can take your time.” He soaps up his body, avoiding scrubbing too long at his cock because it’s on half mast already just seeing her standing there.

“Dean, really, it’s great. Cas says so too,”

“Huh,” Dean exclaims, “Does he now?” Dean walks out of the shower, dries himself off with the towel and wraps it around his hips. He sees her gaze through the mirror and he smirks, “Well, if Cas says so. He knows the city, I trust him.”

He reaches out and works around her to get to his things in the cabinet and Dean thinks it’s not hard at all. Not hard to fit her into his life and work his way around her. To give her her own space and be himself at the same time.

“Cas told me his aunt used to live in the building next to that one, so I guess I’m going to be safe.” She tilts her head up to the side, grins at him and he leans down, has to kiss her to conceal that he’s been busted. She knows that he’s really afraid that she won’t be safe out there on her own.

“When will they let you move in?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. Probably in a couple of days. Cas knows the owner of the apartment by the way. He said that he knew the guy's son.”

That’s great isn’t it? It probably means that she’ll get special treatment and she’ll get the apartment for sure. It’s good, but it’s also bad because he’d like to keep her around longer, he’s not going to lie about that. They probably still have a couple of days. A couple of days that he gets to wake up next to her, so there’s that.

Dean applies deodorant and brushes his teeth while he watches her through the mirror. Watches her squint her eyes when she applies some mascara, her mouth twists in a weird way and he has to hold himself back so as not to laugh out loud.

Yeah, it’s definitely easy.

He’s ready before her, and waits by the kitchen island for her to finish. He hasn’t seen the dress yet, but from what Cas said, she apparently looks great. Dean’s a little jealous. He would have liked to be the first one to see it on her.

Dean’s engrossed in his phone when he hears footsteps. He looks up to see her walking towards him, a vision of rose gold, legs poking out of the slit when she walks. She looks like a dream, and Dean wishes he could ask her out to prom again, and do it properly this time around.

“You look lovely,” He says and weaves an arm around her waist when she’s close enough, pulling her closer to kiss her temple. He doesn’t want to mess up her make-up, which is a weird thought because he can bet that by the end of the night, there won’t be a lot of make-up left on her face anyway. Jesus, he’s getting hard just thinking about having her to himself after the party.

“You look great too,” She says as she smiles up at him.

“So,” Dean says, as he rubs along her naked arms, “Just to let you know. There’s going to be a red carpet. There’s going to be a lot of press and cameras. If you don’t want to do any of it, you don’t have to, alright? But, there will also be press inside, even if you aren’t exactly the center of the picture, you’re most likely going to be a part of one, and given what happened yesterday, I don’t feel good about it either. So if you want to stay in, that’s okay for me, too.”

It really is. He doesn’t lie. He’d rather have her safe than out there, giving the person who’s out for her the satisfaction in seeing them out in the open.

“Okay,” She nods, and adds, “I’m not walking the red carpet,”

How did he know that she was going to say that? She was never one that likes to be in the center of attention and Dean can’t say he minds that.

With her next breath, she says, “But I wanna be there. You spent so much money on the dress, I don’t wanna ruin the night for you.”

“You really don’t need to worry about that.”

“Just,” She looks up, with a little crease between her eyebrows and Dean quickly kisses it away, “Don’t leave my side, okay?”

He grins before he leans down to kiss her. He doesn’t even mind now if the lipstick transfers to his lips, “I would never,”

The flashlights are blinking outside, cameras clicking loudly. It sounds like machine guns going off. People shouting for someone to look their way. It’s pretty scary if she thinks about it. She never liked having photographs taken. There weren’t many that her mother took of her while she was little either. She absolutely hated school pictures. But she remembers the old year books, remembers that Dean always had a cocky grin on his face. Also, he never minded getting his photograph taken randomly, whilst she avoided it like the plague.

Dean’s hand is still on her waist and they’re walking towards the front of the club. She hesitates when they walk outside, but she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that they’re just off to the side and not actually on the red carpet. There are two bouncers next to them who shield the entrance of the club from curious eyes.

He turns to her and looks down, “You wait, here, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

“Can’t I wait inside?” She pouts, and Dean rubs his hand along her arms. Looking over his shoulder, she can see Cas already on the red carpet, smiling into the camera lenses.

“I’d rather have you where I can see you,” Dean smirks, but it’s a weak one. There’s more to his words and she wonders why he wants her where he can see her, but she can’t dwell on it or say anything because Cas already calls out for Dean and then all eyes are on her too.

“Right, I’ll be right back,” Dean kisses her cheek before he walks over to Cas, putting the dark haired man into a playful headlock.

Y/N watches from a safe distance, having taken a couple of steps further back. She watches Dean and Cas smiling into the camera, sees them walking from one photo op mark to the other. They are joking, laughing. Both of them look so good, so carefree and relaxed. Like they were born to do this. She knew that Dean was good with cameras, but she never knew that Cas would be either. He was like her back in school. He has changed so much and she quite likes that. Maybe one day she can be like Cas.

As soon as the pictures were taken, Dean’s quick to be by her side and guides her back inside, leaving Cas to greet the people and celebrities. She thinks she recognizes some important people too, some sports personalities, actors, politicians. She’s astounded that they want to be linked with a club like this. But again, only members know what’s really going on inside on the second floor of that building. Maybe some of them are members? She wonders if she’s seen some of the people in there. She can’t really tell, didn’t really look at their faces when they are naked and grinding on each other.

Dean walks her to the bar where Garth is serving them drinks and he lets her sit on the bar stool while he stands next to her, casually leaning one elbow on the bar top.

They watch as Garth places their drinks in front of them, a huge smile on his face.

“So, what is it about tonight?” She asks Dean.

It might be a stupid question, because she was so wrapped up in her apartment being burgled that she never got a chance to ask. She knows that it’s the anniversary of the club, but she has no idea what to expect. She takes a sip from her martini while Dean drinks from his tumbler. Garth didn’t ask for their order, he just knew what they wanted. She’s surprised that he still remembers.

“We celebrate the fact that I have survived five years,” Dean chuckles lightly, “But it’s actually all PR,” He takes a sip from his tumbler, “We’re closed to members tonight. The party’s only down here. There are about two-hundred guests but there’ll be a lot of press people around. So, it wouldn’t hurt to smile every now and then.” His hand reaches up to thumb at her lip and she opens her mouth, sucking in his thumb, and swirls her tongue around it, making Dean groan. She then bites at it and he has to laugh. She’s laughing with him.

He leans down further to kiss her. When he parts, Dean tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So,” She starts to say, the grin on her face is cheeky, “You say upstairs is closed, even for me?”

Dean looks at her and his eyes that were glistening has gotten a shade darker. He groans audibly and her smile widens, “Fuck, you’re something else, you know that?” He claims her mouth, it’s bruisingly hard, “We get the first part over with, and then I'll take you up.”

Chapter 12

#euphoria #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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