#I was just checking for some Larry pictures when I came across this

[mightynonagesimus]

15 Minutes (What If I Told You)

ANGST WITH AN UNHAPPY ENDING. DO NOT READ FOR A GOOD TIME. This is a supercorp oneshot I wrote after I hear the title song. Very Angsty, you are warned. Trigger Warning : Angst, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Obiviously. This is pre-apocalypse.

11:27,

Monday, July 13th

Lena's Loft,

National City.

It was very unnoticeable at first. Solar flares from a nearby galaxy far enough that they didn't think much of it. A few explosions a couple galaxies down hardly warranted the DEO's involvement. Besides, Earth had different things to worry about. The Team had different things to worry about. Probably. Lena wouldn't know anymore, would she? After the Fortress, she had taken extra precautions to block every single one of them out of her life. She didn't need anyone. She just needed to save the world.

And to be honest? Lena was ashamed it took her that long to figure it out. It wasn't like her. The  Prodigy of her generation. The CEO of one of the biggest Tech Corporations in America. The sister of Earth's most infamous criminal mastermind.

If she had just gotten out of bed, checked any of her projects, called her secretary back. But she was too numb, too empty. Lying in bed, unable to move or think. Wishing to die. She couldn't even muster up the energy to lift a hand, it was just... pathetic.

After a week, Jess had had enough. It took Sam flying over from Metropolis to even get Lena out of bed. Sam had no idea about Kara, of course. But it didn't take long for her to march over to Alex's apartment and threaten her friend until the truth spilled. Lena had never seen that furious. Over Lena, of all people.

She didn't deserve Sam.

***

Sam had been pestering her all week. Bringing over food and staying with her every night. Lena felt like an asshole, taking up so much of her time. That was the main reason she returned to L-Corp after a week That was when she found out about the satellite malfunctions. Some radioactive signature was messing with their signals. That was fine, this was a problem Lena could fix, right? Easy.

Wrong. Turns out the signature was something her systems could recognize. Kryptonite. A giant chunky piece of Kryptonite and debris about the size of a small moon. A Krypto-Comet that was hurtling at half the speed of light from deep space, directly towards Earth.

Mondays, right?

Of course, she contacted the DEO immediately. They were horrified. For a Secret Government Agency handling the extraterrestrial, they had some shockingly bad tech. She wasn't really surprised.  Also, they might have been slightly distracted with Leviathan. Lena had spent the next three days cooped up in a lab with Brainiac 5 desperately trying to come up with a way to deflect it or destroy it, or anything really. Usually, an Anti-Kryptonite suit and Supergirl would have taken care of the problem real quick, but considering the size of the comet and the excessive amount of Kryptonite on it, it just wouldn't be possible. There was no time to call for back-up from Argo City either, with the satellites malfunctioning.

The last five days were utter chaos. Naturally, the news hit the public hard. It was pandemonium, but how could you keep a goddamn meteorite impact from them? The skies were already turning purple.

Lena however, was still in her lab. Over the course of three days, a complete whirlwind of people checked in and out of her lab. People she had never met before. People she had never even heard of. Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow. A scientist named Raymond Palmer with some very interesting ideas on molecular structure and shrinkage. Felicity Smoak. Alex pulled her aside during lunch to explain about the Multiverse.

What. Even. What.

Okay.

It felt like her brain was exploding, but she was their best chance of saving the planet. She had to pull it together. She can't show any weakness.

Alex called for another excruciating meeting the second day.

"Attention! I have some news." Alex exhaled slowly. "Sara?"

"I'm sorry guys, but it's bad. We were unable to prevent this event from not occurring. It happens rarely, but this can't be prevented by modifying the timeline. It's inevitable. We have to find other ways."

"What if we move your population to our Earth?" Harry? Larry? The guy in red spandex asked.

"More than half out Earth's population have doppelgangers in yours. It will mess with the balance of your universe. We can't move them. How about finding an empty universe?"

"Kara is out looking for one, but every Earth we found was either ruined or full. That's too long a shot, I don't think we'll find one in time."

"Well, theoretically-" Brainy hesitated - "My ancestors had a way of...dealing with planets that disagreed with them. They would shrink them down and have them as trophies."

"We can't shrink the planet, the gravitation of the solar system would collapse and we would fall into the sun." Lena muttered distractedly, fiddling with her pen.

"Let's not do that. Any luck contacting Superman?"

"Radio silence. The radiation is messing with communications."

"We could push it through a wormhole, or a portal, but-"

"The comet will be here before we could begin to build it. What if we transport our people to a different planet?"

"Seven billion people on a different planet without nearly enough food and water?"

"Or maybe into a space station?"

"We have four days. To transport seven billion people. And essential items."

"Yeah, that's not gonna work either."

"Okay, let's keep at it guys." Alex clapped her hands together. "There IS a way, we just don't know it yet."

***

Yeah, there was no other way. The days went by in a whirl. They came up with theory after theory, but it was too late. Their world was going to end. Nothing can stop it.

During the last day, Alex ordered every non-Earth-38 person off the universe. And even though there was some resistance, everyone sombrely agreed it was the best move.

A surprising lot of friendships were made that week. World-ending threats tend to do that, apparently. Lena personally never wanted to experience Nia and Zari Tarazi try to cook a pizza together ever again. They almost blasted the dough halfway across the DEO building and into the miniature Nuclear Reactor.

Lena would never, not in a million years, ever admit it; but she wanted what they had.

She couldn't fathom that comfort, that mutual understanding of trust that Nia shared with Zari. How did they build it? How could they rely on it, when they had been strangers only a week ago? How could you share your secrets, yourself, with someone who could potentially turn against you, someone who could be lying through their teeth like Eve was, someone who might hate you just because of a name that you can't change?

Not that anything could be done now. It was too late.

They were gathered at the DEO training facility off-city to say their final goodbyes, except Lena was at L-Corp. It took her a while to accept it, but this time it was real. There was no hail mary, no high stake final masterplan left in her. She was going to die, along with her planet.

So it was the perfect time to break out her finest bottle of scotch.

The L-Corp building was deadly silent. Any other day, Lena would have enjoyed it. The building was almost never fully empty, with the security team and the journalists and the interns who never sleep. Today it put her on edge.

Because she did this. Lena caused all this, it was Lena's fault. She was the reason-

'Alex.'

The tiny blue screen lit up on her desk, ringing insistently. The tech mogul was almost relieved that something interrupted.

The silence. Interrupted the silence.

Lena brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Lena!? Where the hell are you?" For a second, Lena relished the panic in Alex's voice. Of course, it probably was over the world ending, but she wanted to pretend that it was over Lena. That Alex actually cared about her.

"What do need me to do, Director Danvers?" Her voice was meant to be posh and clipped as always, but it came out slightly more drunk than she wanted it to.

"Wha-Nothing! I just couldn't find you anywhere so I thought I'd check up on you." Aww, Alex. You don't need to pretend, everything is gonna go to shit anyway.

"Is Sam still there?"

"Uh- Yes. Yeah, she's here. Do you want to talk to her?"

"Nooo." Lena considered it. "No, definitely not."

"Lena, are you drunk?"

Lena exhaled loudly. "Why did you call me, Director?"

"Because the universe is ending!" Lena cringed away from the phone. That was too loud for her sleep-deprived brain.

"I don't see your point." She huffed back.

"Goddammit. Look, Kara and I will keep looking for a solution, you don't need to worry, okay? You know she never gives up. Nia and the others-"

"Please just stop." Lena begged.

"I-Stop?" Lena could picture Alex's face. She hated that she did.

"I don't care! About anything, anymore. Just leave me alone. Goodbye, Alex."Sorry I pulled so much shit.

Lena switched it off and chucked it across the room, onto her couch. It bounced over the cushions and fell over.

She was alone, now.

"Hope?"

"Greetings, miss Luthor. What can I do for you today?" Hope was always here. Lena's only constant companion through everything. Even if it did wear the face of her traitor friend.

"You understand that this will be the last day?"

"Yes, miss Luthor-"

"Lena. Call me Lena."

The robot cocked its head to the side. Why did Lena program it so life-like?

"Lena. Would you like for me to call anyone else?"

"No, thank you. How long is it now?"

"Seventeen minutes and three seconds."

Lena cradled her head. It felt like her brain was swimming in the alcohol. At least she won't have to feel this tomorrow.

"Execute terminal orders and shut down, please."

"Executed. Goodbye, Miss Luthor."

The hologram blinked off. Lena swirled the last of the scotch in her glass. It didn't taste nearly as good as she hoped. She set it down in distaste.

God, this was all her doing, wasn't it?

If only Lex could see her now, pushing everyone away, alone and lonely on top of the empire that was built by her psychopathic family. Everything he said that day was true.

And it was all Lena's fault. Because she chose to trust Kara. She chose her new family. She wanted that. She craved that. Even when she knew she could never have it. She's always craved that. This wonderful 'family' she could love with all her heart. They would have been her people, they would love her no matter her last name. They would support her through hell and back. She fucking fantasized about how they would be there for her every birthday, about how she would shower them with love and affection, about game nights and road trips. She didn't give a shit about romantic, platonic, she just wanted someone to be there at the airport when she comes back from month-long expeditions through Europe.

It all seems so naive now. She was still here, on top of an empty building, because of her choices. Because of her stupid, stubborn pride. She must have chosen this, right? This is what she wanted. To be alone. Sixteen minutes from the world ending. She had chosen to be alone, bitter, angry at herself for doing what she had done.

Fuck, no.

But it was too late. Too late to accept her family, too late to enjoy them. Too late to save the world. Too late to apologize.

Too-fucking-late.

Fuuuuuuck, she messed up. What she wouldn't give to go back in time, find her younger self and...eughh. Berate her? Explain? Mug her? Lena had no idea.

This scotch tastes like shit.

Why is time so slow?

Tick.

Tock.

Her life is shit. She would like a refund.

Tick.

The alcohol is really getting to her brain, cause she found that funny.

Toc-

The entire floor rattled when the door flies open behind her. *

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Oh hey, Sam. You did come.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She crossed her arms, raising one brow at her CFO.

"Lena, no." Sam stomped over and wretched the glass away from Lena.

"Goddammit, leave me alone, Sam!" Why I am so shitty all the time Sam?

"No." She repeated firmly.

"What?"

"No. I should have done this a long time ago when I first got back here. I'm not leaving you alone, I'm not letting you drink yourself to death. I'm not let you wallow in your misery when the world is fucking ending and you still stubbornly refuse to put down your pride. I'm not leaving!"

She walked over to Lena's hidden break room and poured the scotch down the sink.

"But I-"

"No. Listen, you dumbass. You've been through some horrible, messed-up shit. Your brother almost destroyed the world multiple times. Your mother was a narcissistic fucking psychopath. I cannot even begin to understand how you feel most of the time. Having every move scrutinized by the world, feeling like you can't trust anyone."

"I trust you."

Sam paused. "I-What?"

"I trust you, Sam. You may be the only person who I can be myself around right now. And-And I know that isn't fair to you, me having constant breakdowns. I keep you from your life and Ruby and I hate it-"

"Lena!" Sam takes her hand. "You can always tell me about it. Everything. And I won't lie, helping you through your trauma isn't easy, especially since you refuse to meet a therapist. But that doesn't mean you can keep everything to yourself. It means that your pain, it matters to me. It is a piece of you that you have shared with me, and it isn't going to fucking evaporate the second I know about it. You matter. Your trauma matters. To me, and to everyone at the DEO. I want to help you." She inhaled deeply.

"And I can't promise that everything is going to be fine, I don't even know if we'll exist an hour from now, but I can tell you this. You don't deserve all this pain. That doesn't mean you don't have it. You are not responsible for what your family did, and you are not responsible for your mother's death. You don't deserve to die alone and at odds with everyone you love."

"Sam, but I-"

"And I'm sorry, I know Kara and the others messed up. But they love you. They are your family now. And I can't watch you punish yourself over this. Lena, it's time to let go."

Tears lined Lena's eyes. "I can't do it, Sam!"

"You can."

"I can't! I trusted Kara with everything. I shared every piece of me with her. Love and family were supposed to cure me! I made myself completely powerless, I was vulnerable, and she threw it back at my face. I cannot make that mistake again!"

"It's not fucking magic, Lena! Love isn't a cure-all. It doesn't mean everything bad that ever happened disappears! It only means that you aren't alone in your fight. Family and friendship, it  takes work! You have to see them, and they have to see you. And Kara and the others, they love you!"

"If they fucking love me so much, why do they keep hurting me? Why am I the only one who gets lied to?!"

"It not that fucking simple! Everyone there has their own stuff. We're fucking terrified all the time. And now everything we ever feared is happening, and we can't even fucking be together!"

"What, now you're on their side?!" Lena heard the words spill out her head as messily as she felt, drenched in bitterness and insecurity. "Should've known that you would turn on me too."

Regret fills her immediately, but Lena drops Sam's hand like a searing pan.

Fuck.

"How can you think that?" Sam's voice was quiet now. Her eyes, Lena realized, were also filled with tears.

This is it. This is the moment I chase away the last person who's ever cared for me. One last screw over that will be wiped after the comet hits. One more mistake in my endless list.

Sam raised her arms. Lena reflexively leaned back, her heart hammering against her chest. Shit. She knew how this goes. She's seen enough fights between Lillian and Lionel end. She could hear the resonating crack from almost two decades ago. Lionel might have loved Lena, but he wasn't all that kind to Lillian.

You deserve this. You failed. You failed to protect yourself,  failed to protect the universe. You are never going to be enough. You failed both your families, you failed yourself.

Warmth burst around her. Sam wrapped her arms around Lena.

What in the world... why was Sam hugging her?

Shit, this feels nice.

"Sam?"

"There are no sides, Lena. That's the whole point. You are a part of this family, and we will fight like hell to keep it that way." Sam stroked her hair. "We aren't perfect, we are flawed, we hurt each other. But we aren't alone. We love fiercely, and we have each other's back. We take care of our own. And you are one of us. We love you. We are here if you accept us."

Lena sniffled against Sam's shirt. A fierce rush of gratitude rushed through her. Sam has always been her rock, her constant for almost six years now. She's had her back so many times. Her best friend.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sam." Lena sobbed. "Shit, it's too late. I can't fix everything. I messed up. I messed the whole thing up-"

"Hey. There's still time." Sam drew back and swiped at her eyes. "You can still call Alex. We have... seven minutes left."

Lena nodded, biting her lip.

"Thank you, Sam."

She shakily dialed her phone.

"Alex?"

***

"Hi! Aunt Lena!" A little bundle of joy crawled into Lena's lap and gave her a hug.

Ruby.  She always meant a lot to Lena. Maybe because Lena never really had an aunt while she grew up. Maybe because her hugs were made of pure love; because Ruby is the most wonderful little human Lena ever met. Maybe because there was no tension, no tears involved. Ruby felt like hugging Lena, so she did.

It was the first time Lena cracked a smile in over a year.

"Hello, little monkey. Did you eavesdrop our whole fight?" She mussed her hair.

"Hey! I'm fourteen now. Not so little anymore." She carefully flattened her hair down. "And I know what swear words are, Auntie."

"Do you, now?"

"Yes!" She huffed. "Mom said she's making Mac and Cheese. She said your fridge was full of atrocious rabbit fodder and she hid about seventy percent of your kale." Ruby's voice dropped low and she whispered conspiratorially. "It's behind the eggs, don't tell her said that. Not that we'd be needing it anymore." She glanced sadly at the red skies.

"Are you okay, little monkey?"

"Aunt Lena, is there really no way to destroy the comet?" Ruby asked her.

Lena's heart broke. At that moment, she would've given anything to be back in her lab three weeks ago when they first found the comet. To have found a way out of this catastrophe.

She smiled sadly at Ruby. "I'm sorry, monkey. There's nothing we can do."

How do you tell a child that you failed her, that the entire world was gonna burn? That they were all going to die?

"It's okay, Aunt Lena. I love you." She kissed Lena on the cheek.

The elevator bell dinged and Lena could hear the doors open with a hiss. Her's mouth got just a little dry.

"I'm going to go help mom with the cheese. You should talk to them."

"Wait, Ruby-" she was gone. Great.

Lena exhaled shakily and got to her feet.

Here goes. Oh god. Why did I do this? This is a bad idea, shit. Shit, shit, shit. They still hate me why did I call them, they- Alex.

It was Alex. Suddenly, it wasn't the monsters that she was facing. It was Alex and Kelly and Nia and Brainy. Her family.

Alex stumbled forward first. "Lena, I-" She interrupted herself by crashing into Lena-"I'm so fucking sorry. I should've told you when the whole thing with Reign happened, but then Kara told me that she had to work things out between you and Supergirl, and then I lost my memories for a while-" Lena realized with a jerk that Alex was sobbing against her shoulder.

"-I feel like such an awful friend." Alex's voice cracked.

"Ale-Alex! Hey, it's okay." And for the first time, Lena really meant it. "I'm sorry too. I just felt-"

"Betrayed. I know. I'm sorry." She repeated, stepping away from Lena. She gave Lena a small smile. Smaller, but much like the one she gave Lena the first time they met in Kara's apartment. Tired, but it gives off so much warmth that Lena could feel it. It reminded Lena of all the times they spent together. All the days when they made small explosions in her lab and teamed up for game night.  When Alex took her to self-defense classes and showed her fancy tricks with her guns. She was Lena's best friend. She is.

"Brainy, Nia." God, it felt good to- Lena couldn't even describe it. She missed this. Her friendship with Brainy was one of the few things she treasured most in the world. He was the only one who could ever match her intellect, her best lab partner. Her friend. And to the lonely twelve-year-old genius from the Luthor family, that was everything. And Nia was one of the bravest people Lena knew, unafraid to be herself and face the world. Fighting every day for the greater good. And she was more than that, she was the one who taught Lena that she didn't have to hide who she was. Lena will be a Luthor her entire life. She just had to embrace it. Or as Nia had framed, quite eloquently; 'own it.'

Kelly, and her crazy therapy skills. Lena regretted not spending more time with her. She was such a wonderful person. Kelly was the silent rock of their group, Lena could see that now. She was always there and she knew exactly what to say. In Lena's eyes, she was magical. So determined in supporting her friends through everything. The sweetest, most bad-ass person out of them all.

Shit, Lena was crying now.

"No more little boxes, Lena." Brainy whispered in her ear, and she giggled. Even Lena was surprised by that.

He was right. No more boxes. She has three minutes left to live and she wasn't going to crush herself with the weight of her stupid boxes.

There was still one more person-

"Kara. I'm sorry Lena, she- couldn't make it." Alex squeezed her shoulder. "Barry's Earth- they don't have a Kara. She can live there and not disintegrate. I told her to go with him. I'm sorry, Lena."

Lena's lungs filled with lead.

"Yes, of course." Lena's voice sounded far away even to herself. "She deserves to live there, in peace. I'm sorry, excuse me."

Something akin to panic swelled over her. Anxiety? Sorrow? Feelings were not Lena's strong suit. Panic attacks, unfortunately, she's already dealt with. She backed away from the room, almost knocking Sam over in the process. "Uh- Bathroom."

The door slammed behind her, and Lena splashed her face with cold water.

She would never get to apologize, she would never even get to see Kara again. Her best friend. Her soulmate. And now, she would die without Kara knowing- knowing that-

Because Lena only ever hated herself. She could never,ever hate Kara.

She curled into a ball on the floor, trying to physically hold herself together so she didn't fall apart. She couldn't fall apart, not right now. Her heart was racing and her breathing was short and distressed.

"Lena? Open the door." Alex's voice, carried in through the door.

"I-I'll be right out!" Even Lena knew they won't buy it. She could hear her voice crack with emotion.

"Lena? You don't have to go through this alone, I just told you that." Her voice was soft, and Lena chose to listen.

"I know it's hard. I know you miss her, and I can't imagine what it must feel after everything that happened between you and Kara. It was difficult for me too. I'm leaving her alone, just like everyone else in her life. I'm leaving her and her world is ending again, and we can't do anything about it. I hate it. I broke my promise. She doesn't deserve this pain, and you don't either."

The door creaked open. Suddenly it was Alex surprised by the hug.

"Alex, I'm so sorry."

"Lena." Alex wrapped her arms around the small brunette. "Trust me, she knows. She knows that you love her."

Lena sniffed and pulled back.

"That's just it, Alex." Lena's voice grew softer. "She doesn't know that I'm in love with her."

"You're in love with me?" A small, hopeful voice echoed from the back of the room.

The blonde superhero stepped forward with the sunny smile Lena loved. "Sorry I'm late but, I bought emergency Potstickers." She waved a bag at the rest of them.

"Kara-" The word was out of her mouth before she realized it, but then it was Lena in Kara's arms and nothing else mattered. She buried her head in the Kryptonian's shoulders.

"Hey." Kara tucked a strand of hair behind Lena's mismatched eyes, and Lena fucking melted.  "You know, I've been doing some research." Her voice was low and breathy.

"Oh yeah?" Lena's eyes shined as bright as the red skies outside. Kara thought she could see the whole galaxy in her them.

"I think I finally know what Quantum Entanglement means." She rested her forehead against Lena's and smiled softly.

Lena's heart was racing. She reached up and caught Kara's lips in hers.

"I love you too, Lena."

***

"System error. Terminal order simulation failed."

Lena gasped and fell to her knees.

"Redirect operations to internal systems." She gasped, tears streaming down her face.

Just a few more, a few more minutes. Please. I need to hold her. I need to be held by her.

"Simulation failed."

"No! No, no, no. Please. Try again." Lena fumbled with her screen.

"Simulation failed."

"TRY AGAIN, GODDAMMIT." Lena cried, her voice full of raw emotion.

"Simulation failed. Shutting down. Thirty seconds left in final countdown."

"NO! I SAID FUCKING TRY AGAIN!"

"Twenty-five seconds."

The air was getting hotter. She could already see the streaks of green and red raining down from above outside Kara's window.

"Nooo." She sobbed. "Please, I need to see them. I need to hold her. Please." She crumpled on the floor, holding Kara's green hoodie in her hand. The last piece of her Lena had. The worst part is, Kara wasn't dead. Just lost forever, to Lena.

"Ten seconds."

"Please."

"Five seconds."

"I don't want to be alone." She whispered.

.

.

.

Here's my twitter, go yell at me. https://twitter.com/Keroessa24

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #karlena #kara danvers #sam arias #alex danvers #reigncorp #agentcorp #angst with a sad ending #world ending #apocalypse #lena luthor needs a hug #major character death #post s5 #depression #suicidal thoughts

[luviedovey]

the you i fell in love with

connor murphy x female!reader

a/n: not me writing a fic about mike faist’s connor murphy 2 years after he left the show...... also Connor is probably ooc 

summary: you were Connor’s girlfriend who lived in the next town over, a little over a half hour away. his family didn’t know about you, no one did. he didn’t want his family or anyone he knew to scare you away. in the end, it didn’t really matter. he was gone. when the Connor Project came to be and Evan resigned from being co-president, you ran into him. you questioned him about his “friendship” with Connor and he told you everything.

set after the Murphy’s find out the truth and before the Evan/Zoe reunion at the orchard.

second person pov

warning: a few swear words, also very brief mention of depression and taking your own life, and Larry Murphy kind of being a dick

word count: 5,573

______

“Who are you exactly?” Evan questioned the girl who pulled him off to the side of the supermarket where no one else was around. To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement, he was freaking out on the inside.

“I’m so sorry! I probably scared you half to death dragging you along like that.. I just have some questions for you, if you don’t mind answering..?” You smiled at him sheepishly. Something about your awkward smile eased his mind a bit, but not enough. “No, sorry my mom actually is waiting for me by the-” “It’s about Connor!” You interrupted, looking at him through sad, heartbroken eyes. “..Please. Evan Hansen. I know you weren’t really friends with him. I know you weren’t even secret friends with him.. Because if you were, I would’ve known.”

Evan looked around before looking back at you, confused. “Who are you?” He asked for the second time. “I’m- I was Connor’s girlfriend. Y/N L/N. I met him 2 years ago at the apple orchard you guys rebuilt?  We both went there because we thought that no one else would be there and that it would be the perfect place to escape. His family and classmates never knew about me because he-” you laugh slightly,” he was afraid they would take me away from him. Or that his family would fight in front of me and he’d lose his cool or that his sister would say nasty things about him to ‘spare me from being in a relationship with him’ or even that the bullies at his school would turn me against him even though he knew damn well I could never.” You stopped rambling and passed him a Polaroid picture of the two of you, sitting against the chain link fence that surrounded the old abandoned apple orchard. You were looking up at Connor with heart eyes as he smiled back down at you. A real smile. This was the real Connor Murphy.

Evan looked up from the picture at you, shocked before quickly returning it to you. “Oh my god... You must think I’m such a h- horrible person for doing all this and pretending to be best friends with your- your dead boyfriend- I’m so sorry for your loss by the way- and making up all these stories about things we never really did and starting a whole online campaign about-” “Evan!” He stopped ranting, breathing heavily. “Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Relax.”

It was silent for a moment before Evan mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”

You smiled knowingly. “Now. Mind telling me everything?”

The two of you sat in your old beat up truck, as Evan told you everything. And by everything i mean everything. He started from the very beginning, “My dad left when I was 7 so now it’s just me and my mom. She works all the time at the hospital to support us and to pay for her education- she’s studying to be a paralegal- and so I’m usually home alone. I have anxiety so I take medication and go to therapy where I have to write a letter to myself hyping myself up for the day and trying to be positive and stuff-” “’Dear Evan Hansen’...”

He looked up from his hands at you, “Yeah.. Connor had one of my letters when he- um.. he took it from me earlier that day..” “It was your therapy letter? Why did he take it from you?” “Oh! You see he didn’t actually know it was a letter to myself for therapy he just thought I was being creepy and writing about his sister in a letter to print it out where he would find it and freak out and explode or something- That wasn’t why though, I didn’t even know he was in the room with me, I thought I was alone. He signed my cast before he read my letter, though. He said, ‘Now we both can pretend we have friends.’ Which is why I thought doing what I did would be okay but it wasn’t and it never will be and I really shouldn’t justify my actions because it was-” “Evan breathe.” “Right, sorry.” “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” “Okay sor-” You gave him a pointed look.

“O-okay...” You giggled slightly, looking out of the window at the supermarket parking lot, “So.. he ran out with your letter, pissed because he thought you were fucking with him... And then he killed himself.” “Yeah.”

“So what happened after that?” “The Murphy’s showed up in the principal’s office three days later. I knew something was wrong because Connor and Zoe both weren’t in school and I know Connor skips but it’s not likely that they would both be out on the same days. Zoe doesn’t really skip school- she’s not that kind of person.” You nodded, gesturing to get to the point. “Right, they called me into the office because Connor had my letter and my name was on it so they thought the letter was for me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t- that I was the one who wrote it, but they were in denial. They kept reading parts of my letter back to me from memory, trying to make sense of it but I couldn’t tell them- I couldn’t get through to them....” He sighed.

“They invited me over to dinner and I went because I wanted to set the record straight but when I got there, they wanted to hear everything I knew about Connor. But I didn’t know anything, so whenever they brought something up I just nodded and agreed. Zoe was getting suspicious so I started to make things up. ‘Connor loved to talk about how much he hated skiing.’ ‘Connor took us to A La Mode and we ate our ice cream in the apple orchard where we climbed trees and raced across the open fields.’ ‘We would quote songs by our favorite bands.’ ‘We’d tell jokes no one else would understand.’ All lies. And they believed them. They wanted me to keep talking, they needed me to. They were broken and I just wanted to help them. I told them that we were friends on the internet where we’d email each other to talk about our day and stuff. And Connor would use a secret email account because he knew his dad was checking his regular email, and he didn’t want anyone to know we were friends.... Now that I think about it, this kind of sounds like your story.” You laughed, lightening the mood, and nodded.

“You know, you really aren’t that far off from who Connor was, despite the fact that you were making it up as you went. He wasn’t the monster that everyone thought he was. I mean sure in 2nd grade he pushed over a printer because he had a little tantrum about being skipped for line leader, but what kid doesn’t have a tantrum at least once in their life? It definitely didn’t help that all those kids grew up, making the story sound worse than it really was. He was always angry and stand-offish because everyone in his life would say shit about him that wasn’t true or be nice to him to get close enough to learn something new about him and then turn around and make fun of him for it. He was battling depression and needed help but his family didn’t want to believe there was anything actually wrong with him. I was the only one to believe him. To believe in him. But I’m just one person, and I guess that wasn’t enough..” You trailed off. Evan awkwardly put a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to console you.

It was silent for a moment. “I think he would’ve liked you. It would’ve taken him a while to warm up to you, but I really do think the two of you could’ve been friends.” Evan smiled slightly, before frowning. “I pretended to be his friend for so long, but Alana- she’s the co-president of the Connor Project- started getting suspicious about our friendship, saying that the letters didn’t make sense because it sounded like Connor was getting better so I showed her Connor’s ‘suicide note’-” “Dear Evan Hansen, It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?”

“...Yeah. She believed me too. I told her not to show anyone because it was a really private thing, but she just said that was exactly what people needed to see. She posted it and people on the internet started to attack the Murphy’s, saying things like ‘They’re a rich family who couldn’t bother to pay for their son to get help?’ and ‘I’m not saying to do anything illegal but their house is the pale yellow house at the end of the cul de sac with a red door.’” Your hand flew to your mouth in shock. “They even leaked Zoe’s phone number and their house phone! Everything was just spiraling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and the only thing I could think of to do was just.. them the truth. So I did and I told them everything. I wrote the letter, Connor took it from me, we weren’t really friends, and it was all a lie. I haven’t spoken to the Murphy’s since.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap and sighed. “And.. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll go to school and everyone will hate me or that the Murphy’s will ruin my life.. Not that I don’t deserve it, after what I did? I deserve worse.”

“Evan.. No one deserves that, especially not you. What you did wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but you had the best intentions.” He nodded silently, “What did you want to ask me earlier anyways?”

You turned, facing down at the wheel in front of you. “I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was buried.”, a tear slipped from your eye as you sighed, smiling sadly, “I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye..” “I could go with you if you’d like. To show you the way?”

“Thank you, Evan.”

___

During the ride to the cemetery, You and Evan talked, trying to lighten the mood, and quickly became best friends. The two of you didn't have so much in common but you were both very comfortable and supportive of each other. You were like the siblings neither of you had.

The two of you stepped out of the truck, and begun walking to Connor’s grave. “Oh! Hold on..” You turn back, grabbing a beautiful bouquet of red roses and pink tulips, with a small white card that said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough when you needed it, Connor. I will never forget you, mon amour. I love you, always.” Connor didn’t have a specific favorite flower but he did appreciate their meanings. Roses represent love, and tulips represent a declaration of love. You hoped that even though he was gone he would still appreciate the thought you put into it.

The two of you walked up to his grave. It was at this moment when it hit you that he was really gone forever. You dropped to your knees, carefully placing down the flowers. Tears streaming as you silently sobbed, Evan’s hand on your left shoulder and the ghost of Connor’s hand on your right.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I love you more than you’ll ever know..”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, before agreeing to leave in case the Murphy’s decided to visit. Neither of you really wanted to run into them and have to explain who you were and why you were there. “Do you want to come over to my house? You look emotionally exhausted.” You laughed and nodded, starting up the car.

___

“Why didn’t you come to town sooner?” You sighed, “I just.. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, you know? And coming here, seeing his grave, and his grieving family just confirmed what I prayed wasn’t true.” You sipped on the hot chocolate in your hands, staring out of the window at the pouring rain and cloudy night sky. “Have you met them yet?” Evan mumbled, typing on his laptop on the couch beside you. He pulled up the Connor Project and read about all the many different things Alana was doing. “No.. But I feel like I should? Like I know things about Connor that would give them closure but I can’t bring myself to go over and talk to them.”

“If only there was a way for you to show them what Connor was really like so you wouldn’t have to talk to them...” It was silent for a moment, “Actually... Connor and I used to write each other handwritten letters and take a lot of pictures together..” “Well what are the odds..” he giggled, “Maybe you could give those to them? The ones that aren’t super personal?” You sat together deeply in thought.

“But I can’t exactly bring myself to just give them away... Maybe I could copy them and white out all the personal stuff? Like the things between me and Connor only, and my face and name?” Evan nodded, agreeing that that would be the best option. You’d create a box filled with things Connor wrote and pictures of when he was truly happy, then leave it on the Murphy’s doorstep. It was a safe, no-contact interaction.

___

The next night, you went over to Evan’s house with the box labeled “The Real Connor Murphy. (i’m so sorry for your loss.. i thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.)” Evan gave you directions to the Murphy household. Eventually, you parked in front of the pale yellow house, all three cars were in the driveway. “You better be quick if you don’t want anyone to see you.. Just.. keep the car running, drop off the box, ring the doorbell, and book it back here and drive off. Don’t turn back.” “Okay super spy.” You laughed nervously.

You walked up to the door, placing the box neatly on the ground with a single rose and tulip tapped on the top, rang the doorbell, and ran off. You jumped into the car and drove off just as Evan, who was previously hiding away from the car window, saw the red front door begin to open.

___

“Larry!” Cynthia Murphy exclaimed, picking up the box from the front porch to the dinner table, placing it beside the small card they had found on a mysterious bouquet of flowers they found the day before against Connor’s gravestone. “What is that?” He asked, looking at it with disinterest. “I found it on the porch, it says ‘The Real Connor Murphy. I’m so sorry for your loss.. I thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.’ It’s in the same handwriting as the note we found on that bouquet of flowers. It even has the same two flowers! It has to be the same person. Someone who really loved him...” “What’s inside?” Zoe asked while reading and rereading the small card.

Cynthia opened the box to find handwritten letters from Connor and a mystery girl, photos of Connor laughing, smiling, pouting, hugging and kissing someone with a scratched out face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the real Connor, a whole different version of him that the three were completely unaware of. Seeing him like this was just so unfamiliar to them, they couldn’t believe their eyes for a moment. Zoe picked up a letter, reading it aloud,

“Dear Y/N

Things haven’t been going so well lately, my parents are always fighting, my mom pretends like there’s nothing wrong, my dad doesn’t pay attention to anyone but himself anymore, and Zoe hates me.

Not that I blame her, I hate myself too. But I don’t hate myself when I’m around you. I’m so glad to have you around. You make life just a little easier every day.

It’s harder when you’re not around, I get angry easier when I get bullied at school or when Zoe says something awful about me. I just feel like I’m an airplane about to crash, but with you around I feel like I’m flying. Smooth sailing. Floating even. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.

Thank you. I love you.

Sincerely, Con”

“He.. he had a girlfriend..?” She said, in shock. The three began to shuffle through the letters, photos, and little post-it notes, putting them in piles. “These are all copied..” “Maybe whoever left them didn’t want to give the originals away..?” “Maybe because she still cares about and loves him and didn’t want to give these away. They seem so.. personal.” Cynthia picked up a post-it note,

“Tu es belle Y/N, je t'adore.”

“What does that even mean?” Zoe pulled out her phone going straight to google translate, “It’s says ‘you are beautiful, i adore you.’.. I didn’t know Connor knew french.” “He never took a class for it. Maybe he learned it on his own?” Larry picked up a photo this time, Connor was standing in front of the apple orchard’s rotting old sign in the middle of the field, fake pouting and wearing a thin little flower crown you had made him. “I didn’t know Connor had any feelings other than anger.” Cynthia hit his arm. “Wait,” Zoe said, grabbing the attention of her bickering parents, “This letter has a picture and a post-it note attached to it.”

“Dear Con,

Thank you for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful. You are so so talented. The way you put so much thought into every detail is truly admirable. You make everything you paint so exciting and captivating, even if the thing you’re painting isn’t very exciting at all. You see the beauty in the things that most people never give a second glance.

It kind of reminds me of the way I look at you.

To most people that don’t know you, you are a “freak” or “school shooter chic”. But, when I look at you, you are none of those things. You are beautiful, you are captivating, you are perfectly imperfect. You are worth it. Don’t give up on me darlin’.

I love you.

Sincerely, Y/N/N”

Attached to the letter was a photo of the painting mentioned. It was a painting of your beaten old navy blue truck parked beside a chain link fence that blocked it off from the open field. In the background, the sun was setting in a perfect blend of yellows, oranges, and reds. It was so detailed that if you weren’t already aware that it was a painting, you would’ve probably thought it was a photo taken from a fancy camera. “It really is beautiful..” Cynthia trailed off, wiping a stray tear that fell from her eye, “He was so talented. I didn’t even know he liked to paint! I mean I knew he took an art class but because he skipped school so much, I never even thought he went..”

“I guess we really didn’t know Connor at all..” Zoe begun to get angry, “What kind of family does that?! I mean we lived with him, I grew up with him, you two raised him, and we still didn’t even know who he was?! This.. this stranger even knew more about him than we did! Do you realize how sad this is? We have to learn about our dead family member from a complete stranger because when he was alive, we were too busy pretending like he was just acting out for attention instead of actually needing help! He needed help and we didn’t give it to him! It’s not like we couldn’t afford to take him to therapy! We just pretended like he was a monster and if we ignored him, he would stop..” She took a deep breath, “Maybe we were the monsters and his anger and tantrums were his cries for help...” “Zoe..” Cynthia reached for her arm but she pulled away, running up to her room while choking back tears. “..She’s right.”

The two were quiet for a long period of time, reading and rereading every letter and every note, memorizing every photo.

Cynthia held up a photo of Connor and a girl, whose face was completely scratched out, “Who are you..”

___

The next day was a particularly warm day so you and Evan drove over to A La Mode as a victory ice cream run of sorts. You really believed in treating yourself after small, seemingly insignificant, victories such as dropping off a box of precious letters to a grieving family. They needed closure, and you were willing to give it them. Evan, despite talking about A La Mode with the Murphy’s before, had never actually been. You two talked and ate your ice cream sitting in the back of your truck, looking out at the orchard across the street. The orchard was renamed the “Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard”, which made your heart a little heavy. Another reminder that he was really gone.

In the distance, on the other side of the fence sat the Murphy’s who were packing up from their weekly picnic. As they got up to walk out of the orchard, Zoe looked across the street. “Wait a minute..” Her parents stopped walking. “What is it Zoe?” Larry asked. She pointed at the car parked across the street, “Isn’t that the car that Connor painted his girlfriend in that letter? And Evan?” They looked across the street to find the same navy blue truck and a familiar face.

Evan paled, “The Murphy’s are looking at us!” he whisper-shouted. You began to turn around, but Evan stopped you. “No don’t look!” Your head whipped back to him as your face paled, “They recognized my car..” “How could they? It was night time when you dropped off the box and the door barely begun to open as you drove away..”

You smiled sheepishly, “I may or may not have given them a picture of a painting Connor made me of my truck parked beside that exact fence...” Evan facepalmed and gave you a deadpanned look. “Well they’re starting to walk across the street now.”

You shot up, “Let’s go.” “I mean would it be so bad to meet his parents?” Evan asked as the two of you scrambled into the front seats. “I’m just.. I’m not ready to have that conversation just yet.” You reversed out of the parking spot and drove back onto the road.

“Wait!” The Murphy’s shouted to the car as it begun to drive off. “There was a girl driving. Maybe that was her?” Cynthia asked, hopefulness clear in her voice. “She was with Evan, do you think the box of letters were fake?” Larry, always the optimist. “They couldn’t be, they were handwritten in Connor’s handwriting. Even the french notes.”

Zoe thought for a moment, “Well if we’re going to find her, we should probably start with Evan’s place first.” “Who said we were going to look for her?” Larry asked, “I’m not wasting my time on a wild goose chase. She’s already shown us enough about Connor.”

Cynthia turned to her husband, “How could you say that? She could be the one thing to bring us closer to our son. Our son who took his own life because he felt that that was the only path left for him. And you don’t want to try to find her? Find closure? Honestly Larry, what is wrong with you lately!” “I’m sorry. We’ll find her.”

___

The Murphy’s found themselves at the Hansen household. They knew you were there. After all, your truck was parked in the driveway. Inside were you, Heidi, and Evan. You had just met Heidi, but she loved you. She was thrilled to find that Evan had made a friend like you. You hung out with Evan even after learning he lied about being friends with your recently deceased boyfriend, and helped him when he started to rant and breathe heavy about it. You were so kind-hearted, forgiving, and calm by nature, that he was finally comfortable around someone. You were quickly best friends.

A knock at the door startled the three of you. “Are you guys expecting anyone?”, Heidi stood up to get the door as you and Evan turned to each other. He placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I suppose now’s a good time as ever, even though I really only had 24 hours to prepare myself..” You muttered, the two of you walking towards the front door.

The Murphy’s stopped and stared at you. “Are you.. Were you Connor’s girlfriend?” Cynthia asked. You nodded slightly, rubbing your arm as a nervous habit. “I’m Cynthia, this is Larry and Zoe.. We’re Connor’s family.” “I know.”

Heidi invited them in, everyone heading to the living room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.. We just wanted to thank you for all the letters and photos of Connor. It feels like we’re finally getting to know who he really was on the inside.” You looked up from your lap, “No offense ma’am, but shouldn’t you have gotten to know your own son when he was still around?”

Zoe laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s funny.. especially considering you didn’t bother to get to know him either.” You said getting defensive, sticking up for Connor. Even if he was gone, you would never stop fighting for him. You did truly love him after all. “And before you say ‘Connor wasn’t easy to talk to. He would always yell and storm off.’, just think about the fact that having a relationship with someone is a two way street. You can’t expect someone to make an effort if you don’t try to do the same.”

The three looked at her in shock. Heidi and Evan smiling sheepishly in the background. “I..”, Larry started, but trailed off, not being able to come up with a proper response. Cynthia and Zoe looked deep in thought, unable to do the same.

It was quiet for a long amount of time.

“You’re right. You’re right and I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. And the only thing we could do now is learn from our mistakes. We don’t exactly know how we’re going to do that but we’re willing to try. And we’re hoping that you could help us? Help us figure out what to do and help us learn about who Connor was?” Zoe finally spoke up, her parents nodding along in agreement.

You were trying to heal from everything that happened and them putting all their hope on you wasn’t really helping. But maybe grieving together would allow everyone to heal and remember him in a more positive way? At least you hoped.

There’s a lot of hope pinned on others here.

“I suppose helping you all would let us heal.. together?” You said, slightly questioning your own words, turning toward Evan. He shrugged, giving you a thumbs-up. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about Connor unless Evan is around.” You paused, “It’d be nice to have a familiar face around and we’re practically best friends now.. so..” “Yes of course.” The three stood up, walking to the front door, “We’ll come back here at 11AM tomorrow and drive to the orchard for a picnic if that’s alright with the two of you?” You and Evan nodded simultaneously. “Are you allergic to anything dear?”

With the shake of your head and a quick goodbye from Evan and Heidi, the Murphy’s were off.

“Am I doing the right thing here? Connor didn’t even want his family to known I existed! And now we’re going on a picnic with them? Where I have to talk about him?” You sat down, head in your hands as a headache begun to grow. Heidi placed her hand on your shoulder gently, “It’s going to be tough right now, and it’s going to be emotionally draining, I’m sure. But, if you really think that they deserve to know who he really was, that how they perceive him is wrong, then I think you are doing the right thing. You’re helping them, you’re helping yourself, and you’re helping Connor. You did say that he wanted to change the way people saw him. And you’d be doing that for him, even if he’s not physically around to see it happen.”

“Thank you, Heidi.”

___

“It’s really nice of you to agree to meet us here, Y/N. And Evan, it’s nice to have you here too.” Cynthia smiled, putting down a blanket for the picnic. Everyone sat down in an awkward silence.

“So... is.. is there anything you wanted to know that wasn’t already in the letters?” You asked, picking at the blades of grass beside you. Evan slapped your hand away from the grass, silently scolding you in true forest ranger fashion for messing with nature. The Murphy’s turned to each other, silently debating what to say and who would say it. No surprise to you and Evan that the one to speak up was Cynthia. The past couple of hours really showed that she was the only one who seemed to care, at least a little bit, about Connor when he was around, though Zoe and Larry were trying their best now.

“Why didn’t Connor bring you around to meet the family? It really seemed like you brought so much light to his life. I mean, you brought out parts of him that we didn’t even know existed!” “We thought he was a monster...” Zoe muttered sadly.

Your heart ached for this family, they really knew nothing about him.. “Connor didn’t bring me around because he was afraid you’d all ‘scare me off’,” you laughed slightly, “And Connor may have been a monster to you, but the real Connor was never a monster, to me or to anyone in my small town. In the next town over, no one knew who Connor was or what he’d done in the past. It was like a fresh start. Which I knew he desperately needed. I mean, with all the people bullying him, hurting him physically or emotionally or both, and spreading fake rumors about him since he was in the second grade? He was angry and hurting and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he would lash out. But wouldn’t you react the same way? Build up walls so people wouldn’t hurt you? Isolate yourself so people couldn’t get close enough to?”

It went silent again, the only sound was the wind blowing in the summer breeze and the trees rustling in the background.

“She’s right.”

Everyone looked up, faces showing some form of shock. Larry continued, “All that stuff was going on in school and we made it worse for him at home. He asked us for help and we always assumed he was doing for attention. No matter how hard we tried to be a perfect family, we never were and we probably never will be.”

Zoe wiped away a stray tear. “Even though you couldn’t save your kid, maybe there’s a way you could save someone else’s?” He turned to you with a questioning glance. “I mean you have to admit, you’re a pretty wealthy family, maybe you can spend some time donating to suicide prevention hotlines and foundations that were created specifically to help those who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts like Connor was? I know for a fact that Connor hated the way that he felt, and would never want anyone to go through what he’d been going through, no matter how much of an asshole they were.”

Cynthia reached over to you, placing a hand on your knee, smiling as tears fell freely from her face, from all of their faces. “That’s a brilliant idea, Y/N.”

___

The picnic went on as you told them stories of your’s and Connor’s adventures together. Jumping over the fence to lay around in the yellow fields of the old orchard, helping your mom arrange flowers in her flower shop (he would always make sure his bouquets were well thought out in their meaning), buying junk food and snacks when having movie marathons on a Saturday night, sketching and painting moments together so you two would never forget them.

With each little story, his family knew more about him and you felt as close to him as you had been before that heart-wrenching summer day. 

You fell behind from the group as you all walked out of the orchard. Turning back and taking one last look at the entrance, the fields, and the growing trees of the Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard, you notice a figure dressed in black standing with his back against the fence. He gave you a smile, a genuine yet sad smile, mouthing the words “thank you” and “i love you”, before disappearing in the wind.

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #deh #dear evan hansen #mike faist #broadway #dear evan hansen x reader

[alolowrites]

Late Night Visitor

Summary: A mysterious stranger visits your balcony and accidentally leaves behind a priceless jewelry that they stole from a museum.   

Author’s Note: I’m pleased to share the next story for @bnhabookclub​ Hero Camp Bingo event. The prompt I used was “Crime AU” It took a while getting this done because of work stress and having slight writer’s block (plus I kept changing the story’s direction). But really, it was because of how stressed/tired I’ve been the past few weeks. So, really sorry if it took forever posting another story.

It’s also my first time writing for Hawks, so hopefully I did him justice! He was the first character that popped up when working with this prompt. Please enjoy!!

Word Count: 2.3K+

“Ah! Hot, hot!”

Well, isn’t this just great? Nothing like accidentally burning your tongue during dinner to remind yourself how impatient you are—damn hunger. One hand flails to cool down your mouth. Steam dances above the hearty bowl of curry rice, the sweet smell of caramelized onions greeting your nose with a soft kiss. Bless the local 7-11 markets for selling quick and easy meals.

You sit criss-cross applesauce on the fluffy gray rug and scroll through social media for the millionth time. It’s been a slow weekend as yesterday’s news is recycled for today’s news. A random show plays on the television, but you don’t pay attention to the white noise. All your focus is on the phone, yet you still reach for another bite from your meal. How the rug stays clean during dinner nights at home is a complete mystery.  

Sipping on your drink, you spare a glance at the balcony and do a double-take—a stranger is crouching outside. You choke, “Oh shit!”

Without thinking, you scurry behind the gray couch, not caring if the rug becomes messy. Your pounding heart is like a concert bass drum which echoes around the small apartment. The sound drowns out the show’s mindlessly chatter. Frightened eyes peek around the corner, and you whip back in full regret.

The person is still outside. Their back is facing toward the balcony door, and they are wearing a form-fitting black hoodie. Hands search for your phone, but they come up empty. Panic finally settles in when you realize it’s on the coffee table. Great, you moan as your head softly hits against the furniture—is the door even locked?

You’re faced with a dilemma: Do you stay out of sight until the stranger leaves or risk being seen while getting help? After much deliberation, you swallow a hard pill and growl at the ceiling, “If I’m doing this, I better not die!”

You’re like a soldier crawling through the mud with a drill sergeant yelling down your neck. You snatch the phone off the table, but make the mistake of looking up at the sliding door. Everything comes to a screeching halt as curious gold eyes stare into your timid ones. The mysterious visitor becomes more intimidating thanks to the balaclava mask—it covers the lower half of their face.

The intense staring contest last for an eternity. You nearly rip off the loose strands on your rug when the stranger approaches closer; they stop when you back away. Taking pity on you, they jump over the balcony and disappear into the quiet night.

A sense of relief washes over you.

Who knows what could have happened to you? Maybe your mom was right about learning some self-defense; the pepper spray is not enough. As you stand and dust off your pants, a shiny light catches your attention; it’s coming from outside. You go against your better judgment and tiptoe toward the balcony.

Your jaw immediately falls to the floor when you spot an exquisite ruby pendant. A sparkling round diamond sits above the bright red gemstone, a slight tint of purple hue lurking underneath. Even the platinum metal chain carries an air of luxury. It’s as if the gods carefully hand-crafted this entire jewelry themselves. In short, it is simple but elegant.

Sliding the door, you wonder if this is some kind of trap. After checking your surroundings, you swiftly pick up the accessory and snort, “Thank you for making me feel poor.”

Fingers glide along the gemstone’s perfect curves as you gaze at the sleeping neighborhood. Your mind goes wild: Who was the person with those haunting golden eyes? Why did they come to your balcony? And why in the world did they leave behind a beautiful masterpiece?

You have so many questions but very few answers.  

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“So, you didn’t call the police?”

“Um…no…?”

“And why not?”

“It was a mixture of being both scared and stupid.”

“Oh my—” Fuyumi pinches the bridge of her nose. You twiddle your fingers like a guilty child and sink further into the booth. Fuyumi had her suspicions when you texted her to meet up at the usual coffee shop near your apartment. It’s your go-to place whenever you’ve done something questionable, which is ninety-nine percent of the time. Plus, the café whips up the perfect batch of castella—her favorite pastry.  

Customers stroll in and out of the coffee shop as piano music plays softly in the background. Roasted coffee beans linger in the air, tempting your nose with its delicious aroma. Out of habit, you push the castella closer to Fuyumi as if that would help soften the blow. She exhales, “Next time, please call the police.”

“Yes, mother,” you mumble much to Fuyumi’s displeasure, but she lets it slide. With the worst over, you bounce straight up and tap the table with an air of excitement. “Oh! Here’s the best part though, besides surviving a break-in—”

“The person was outside your balcony.”

“—close enough, but not really the point, okay?” Fuyumi rolls her eyes, and you fish out your phone to show her a picture. She takes a closer look as you ramble off. “Anyway, my late-night visitor left behind this gorgeous pendant! Why they were carrying this around is beyond me, and so carelessly too. I’m no jeweler, but I’m pretty sure those stones are worth a fortune—still beautiful, though.”

“Yeah, and stolen!” The white-haired teacher hisses. You blink, wholly baffled at her extreme reaction. Fuyumi whips out her iPhone with two fingers flying above the screen. She shoves it toward you, your eyes skimming through the article. The news delivers a sharp slap across your face as the realization sinks in.

Oh no…

Fuyumi bites her lip, “It’s The Grand Droplet, a priceless heirloom rumored to offer infinite life and prosperity. Police are saying the notorious thief, Hawks, stole the pendant last night from the Yutaka Jewelry Museum.” A few seconds later, she adds, “You have the pendant—”

“Shhhhhh!” A hand attacks her arm, your panicked eyes wandering around the coffee shop as if your cover got blown. No one turns their heads, but you shoot an annoyed glare at Fuyumi. “Why don’t you say it louder? I don’t think the barista heard you!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just,” she grips the table’s edge and leans closer, “This is serious! You have to bring the pendant to the authorities. See, this is exactly why you should have called the police last night! The longer you wait, the more guilty you look. Maybe you’ll even become an accomplice to the crime.”

“You’re not helping!”

“Sorry…”

You dramatically groan into your hands, “Why did this happen to me?! When I said I wanted to live like Larry, I didn’t mean this!”

“I know,” Fuyumi pats your head and sneaks a bite of her delicious treat; her phone chimes beside you. She checks the message before flashing an apologetic stare. “Listen, I have to take care of something with my family, but I hate to leave you like this.”

“No, it’s okay. I can handle this myself,” you pathetically convince her. “I’m sure nothing bad will happen, knock on wood—”

“The table is metal.”

“I said what I said!” Your fist aggressively pounds the table, scaring off some customers. A mother hastily pushes her child away from the chaotic scene. You calm down and sigh, “I promise to call you if I’m in danger, okay?”

“Okay.”

You nod before whispering, “Sorry, table.”

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

The walk back home is anything but relaxing. You are on high alert, throwing suspicious glances at anyone coming too close to you. They could be undercover cops waiting to ambush you and interrogate your poor soul for hours until the necklace reappears.

But I didn’t do anything! I’m a good noodle!

You sigh as the key unlocks the door, your shoes flying off by the entrance. Fortunately, you hid the pendant in a safe place. All you want to do is get rid of this jewelry; it brings nothing but trouble.

Marching down the hallway, you grumble under your breath, “Stupid Hawks, and his stupid stealing habits.”

Everyone knows about the infamous Hawks. He strikes when one least expects him to, and somehow successfully evades capture after every heist. But Hawks always leaves behind his signature red feather as a little present for authorities—it never fails to rile them up. Hopefully, the cops show some mercy when you explain what happened. Maybe you should work on your puppy dog look before heading downtown, which might help you score a few sympathy points.

You find the burgundy jewelry box sitting on the closet’s top shelf and breathe a sigh of relief—the pendant is still inside. Not wasting precious time, you close the lid and exit your room. A soft click makes you freeze.

Standing by the balcony door is Hawks, who wears a black jacket with a white shirt underneath. His ashy blonde hair is lazily slicked back, a few strands sticking here and there like no tomorrow. Surprisingly, he lowers the balaclava mask and flashes a boyish grin, “‘Bout time you came home! I was getting bored out there.”

“How did you—wait, never mind. You break into high-security places to steal things for a living,” you say, shifting the jewelry box onto your right grip. “Listen, as much as I would like to stay and chit-chat, my day is fully booked. Can’t really cancel on these people, ya know?” You slowly tiptoe backward, an awkward laugh ringing through the air. “Let’s do a rain check; I’m free next week. Okay? Okay! See ya—“

“Hold it!” You halt on his order, a curse slipping out your mouth. Hawks strides across the floor, and you clutch the box closer to your chest. You feel as though your feet are glued to the ground, the nerves growing stronger once Hawks stands only a few feet away. He crosses his arms and nods at the box, “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing special, really.”

“Can I take a look?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Um, because I don’t want to, that’s why,” you childishly snap and send him a dismissive wave. “Now, shoo! You’re wasting my precious time.”

Hawks chuckles at your feisty attitude. He finds this whole ordeal extremely amusing. You know who he is, you know of his reputation just like everyone else in Japan. And yet, you keep on swinging like a boxer with your witty responses. Still, he has a job to finish. “I’m not leaving until you give me that pendant.”  

“Well, I hope you’re paying for half the rent because there’s no way in hell I’m giving it to you, Mr. Thief.” Two seconds later, you add, “Besides, it’s not even yours!”

“It’s not yours either.”

“Oh!” You give him a fake laugh, pointing one finger at your chest. “So the thief is criticizing me for having something that’s not mine? How rich.”

“You’re lucky I find you cute, but,” Hawks dangerously invades your personal space without giving you a chance to stop him. From far away, he doesn’t appear tall. However, Hawks somehow towers over you, which makes you involuntarily squeak. A wicked glint shines through his golden eyes as he studies your unique facial features. You suddenly forget to breathe when his eyes glance at your lips—damn him.

Hawks plucks the box from your loose grip. The hypnotic spell comes crashing down, and you loudly snarl, “Hey! Give it back!”

“Sorry, Dove,” Hawks keeps you at arm’s length, his gloved hand giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as he smirks, “I got a buyer who’s willing to pay a hefty price for this beauty. Of course, you are way more stunning, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Quit charming me!” You’re a blushing mess now and throw a pillow at him; he easily dodges it much to your dismay. Hawks’ cackles bounce off the wall, which makes you scowl. His fingers slide the balcony door open, and he tastes sweet freedom.

“Farewell, Dove!”

You have a deja vu moment when Hawks jumps over the edge. Your legs rush outside, and eyes frantically search the streets, but it’s no use—the thief is long gone. One hand slaps your forehead as you stupidly let him get away with the jewel. Feeling like a deflated balloon, you whip out your phone and make a quick call.

“Fuyumi…yeah, the pendant got stolen again.”

Stupid thief.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

You collapse on the couch with as much grace as an inexperienced dancer who steps on people’s toes. Work left you exhausted, but you’re glad it’s almost the weekend. You’ll definitely sleep in and have a lazy day on Sunday. It’s what you deserve after meeting tight deadlines and also talking to the police about Hawks.

Fortunately, they do not blame you for anything, much to your relief. It’s been about a week since Hawks broke into your apartment to steal back the Grand Droplet. Police have no luck locating him; they believe the thief is lying low until it’s safe enough for him to strike again. Where exactly is anyone’s guess.

A knock disrupts your thoughts.

It comes from the balcony, and you jump to your feet. No one is outside, although a flash of red catches your eye. Lo and behold, it’s Hawks’ signature feather with a small note attached. Oh, how lovely, you think before snatching the gift off the floor. Your pet name is affectionately written across the paper. You hate yourself for finding Hawks’ calligraphy impressive, but proceed to read the note.

Sorry for cutting our convo short—had a deal to close. No hard feelings, though, right? If anything, I’ll make it up to you, Dove. Besides, you still owe me that rain check.

See ya soon!

-H

You don’t bother biting back your smile.

Guess you’ll be seeing Fuyumi at the coffee shop again.

Fourth prompt is crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading! 

Previous prompt: Cuddles 

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks imagine #bnha hawks #keigo takami #bnhabookclub #hero camp bingo #crime au

[nelllraiser]

bea-day party | group chatzy ft. jack

LOCATION: illusions of grandeur.  PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze, @divineluce, @nelllraiser, @phoenixleah, @halequeenjas, @streetharmacist, @mor-beck-more-problems, @chasseurdeloup, @jane-the-zombie, @whatsin-yourhead, @professoranieves, @harlowhaunted, @themidnightfarmer, and best boy jack. (picture in link courtesy of rhi) SUMMARY: bea’s birthday party goes off without a hitch, apart from one very friendly sea-man. CONTENTS: strippers. (of the non-mime variety.) 

Luce finished off her second glass of champagne, looking around at the party that was in full swing. Literally. Swing dancing, who'd have thought. Setting the empty glass down on a table, she made her way towards the wall of champagne again. A wry smile slid across her face as she took another glass of very expensive champagne. Fuck the coven, fuck their mother, fuck their parents for abandoning them. This was their little revenge, a party fit for a queen, with a bill to match. Glass held loosely in her hand, she glanced over at a person lingering near the wall of champagne. "Help yourself, seriously. We went all out for a reason." She said with a grin before raising the glass up in toast. "Did you watch the show earlier?"

For the moment, Nell had placed herself by the entrance of Grand Illusions, showing those that had been invited to Bea's party to the private box and party room. Now, as she made her way back upstairs to the main events, champagne, and poker tables, she looked over everyone's outfits with a careful eye, trying to spot those that might not have dressed to theme, and preparing some scorching words should they have denied that part of the invitation. But then she spotted something that caught her even more off guard, a certain blonde hanging by the champagne towers. "Blanche?! What the hell are you doing here?" Her voice was loud enough to carry to anyone else in the close perimeter.

Bea had a champagne glass already in hand when she went into the room where the party was truly happening. It was her birthday and she'd get hammered if she wanted to. Taking a long sip, she nodded toward the poker tables in the back. "Anyone care to join me at the table?" She was fully intending on taking her friend's money tonight through the tables and had no shame in that.

Kaden didn't feel a lot like celebrating after what had just happened, but it was for Bea so there was never a doubt that he'd show up for this party if he could. He was also pretty sure there as no way Regan was going to put herself in this sort of big public space with all the stress that came with these kinds fo gatherings. He had her present for Bea with him all the same. A quick look around and the place was immaculately decorated, of course. He hoped his suit was okay, it was all he could manage. But he tried. First thing after dropping of the presents was to grab a thing of champagne from the fucking wall of it before heading towards Bea. "Happy birthday, again. I'll join if you want." He wasn't very good but it was all for fun, right?

There was nothing Jasmine loved more than a good party and she had high hopes that Beatrice could deliver. While her party planning skills weren't quite on par with her own, they'd definitely had some fun in the past. Plus, who didn't love a Gatsby theme? Her flapper headband and red sparkly dress that hugged her in all the right places really was an absolutely look. Some good photos of her Bea, and Leah were a requirement before leaving. She greeted the younger Vurals as she walked in and helped herself to some champagne. "It was quite the show," she mused with a wicked smile, "You don't have to tell me twice to grab some champagne."

Felix had to laugh when he first saw the joint. All they really needed was a couple signs about how silly prohibition was and they really had the theme in the bag. As gilded as the time had been, the party was even more so. He loved it. Bea deserved it. He’d make his way back over to her in time. He sipped idly on his champagne as he fluttered about the party floor, a wide smile in place as he surveyed the crowd. With the way things were going, it wasn’t out of place to keep an eye on anything being just that. Too many parties gone wrong, or right, kept him on his toes. He paused for a moment beside someone and cocked his head. “You lost any money at the tables yet?”

Morgan sauntered in, pleased to have an excuse to wear heels and some of the jewelry Deirdre had bought and kept stashed in their closet all this time. She almost didn't feel the chill of not having her girlfriend on her arm to make the night brighter. The sight of the Vurals excited her enough to make up for coming alone. "Hey, guys!" She called, twirling to show off her black jeweled flapper style dress."Bea, this is for you," she said, rushing over to the oldest Vural, and the crowd gathering around her. "Kaden, looking extra dapper today. I don't know about you guys, but since I can't get drunk, I'm up to blow a ton of money at Texas Hold 'Em."

Anita felt a little out of place at the party. Normally she would be at the bar flirting with any and everyone. But now she had a girlfriend , and it felt weird to continue to flirt with random women given the agreement she had made with Marley. But, surely there were other things to do at parties than just flirt with people, so Anita made her way to the champaign tower and grabbed a glass. Then she just made her rounds, walking around all the elaborate tables and attractions trying to spot somebody she might know. She saw Kaden and Blanche, but she didn’t really want to strike up a conversation with either of them.

Blanche had enough of the hospital after only two nights. She checked herself out early that morning and told exactly no one as she headed home to get dressed, leaving the bandages on her back visible. There was nothing to do about them. Bea deserved to have a good birthday, and honestly, Blanche wanted some time to chill and relax. .... And then there was Nell, yelling at her. "Drinking champagne?" Blanche asked, holding her glass up innocently. "And thinking about winning money by counting cards."

Jasmine eyed the poker tables and decided to follow suit. Was it the best idea when Larry Bob still had a habit of crashing her showings? Probably not, but she was decent enough at poker. Her father always had tables at their parties and she caught on young. She placed Bea's present on the gift table before joining the birthday girl's poker table. "Happy birthday, Bea," she said in a bubbly tone, "You've really outdone yourself with this party."

Jared spotted his two part time roommates and took in Nells face before he even half registered Blanche herself. He made his way through the crowds hover handed appropriately. "Are you...what's going on?"

Jasmine. Of course this bitch wore a red dress too. Whatever. Red was her color and she damn well knew it. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Luce shrugged at Jasmine, champagne flute cradled gently in her fingers. "Bea has an eye for talent, she knows how to put on a show and holds the others to those standards too. But, they did good tonight." She said with a nod of her head. As the woman drifted away, Luce spotted Anita through the crowd. What was she doing here? Making her way across the room, Luce cast a crooked grin in her direction. "Hey, stranger. Having fun?"

Leah was never much of a gambler. She usually preferred to watch in the background, silently judging people's drunken risks from afar. But today was different. Today was Bea's birthday, and with a few drinks in her and surrounded by people she loved and was comfortable with, it was easy to lose her inhibitions. She couldn't help but laugh at Morgan's antics, giving her a little clap as she twirled around to show her outfit. "That sounds like a plan to me!" she said with a laugh, holding up her champagne glass. "I'll drink enough for the both of us." She glanced over at Felix standing next to them, shaking her head. "I think I'm saving it all to waste it in one big blow. That's the way to go, right?"

"Yes, join me!" Bea grinned at Kaden, before catching a glimpse of Morgan twirling. "Looking amazing, Morgan, and I love that energy." She wanted everyone to have that spirit, blowing their money and drinking was the name of game tonight. "Thank you, Jasmine. You look great tonight. Nell and Luce helped me plan a lot."

Squinting her eyes ever so slightly, Nell watched Blanche carefully, as if she might burst back into flames at any moment. "Shouldn't you still be in the hospital?" But she knew from experience that if Blanche wanted to be here, there was no way of making her go back to any sort of medical care. It was, tragically, one of the many ways in which the two girls were alike. "You count cards?" The witch carefully left off the too at the end of that sentence, not wanting and unwitting potential poker challengers to be clued in. "I bet we could start a new table," she said, catching the eye of Bea at one of them already. Might as well spread their resources to bring in as much revenue as possible, right? "Then she turned to Jared to explain. "Someone decided to check themself out of the hospital early, but now we're gonna go legally steal people's money. Did you wanna come? Does anyone else wanna start a new table with us?" she asked to those nearest to them, hoping they'd brought a decent amount of cash.

Anita smiled slightly when Luce approached her. For a moment she regretted coming. The only reason she even did was because she felt like she deserved a fun night, and given how lavish a party this was, it was clearly the place to be. “Hey yourself,” she said as she finished up the liquor in her glass. “I just got here, but so far- yeah. You guys really know how to go all out.” Instinctively her eyes trailed down Luce’s body for a second with a small smirk, “And you really know how to clean up.”

Jasmine smiled at Bea. As much as they bickered, this had all the workings of a good party and this champagne was divine. "They did a good job, too. It's still so crazy seeing them all grown up." She turned and gave Leah a wave and noticed there were a few people at the table she hadn't met yet. She looked to the French sounding man and the pale woman who had joined. She extended a hand to shake, "I'm Jasmine. I don't believe we've met before."

Luce watched Anita over the rim of her glass, eyes drifting up the other woman's form. "We're the Vurals, we never do anything by halves. Besides, 30's a big deal." She said with a wave of her hand to the elaborate decorations around them. Tilting her head at her comment, Luce raised an eyebrow. "Mm. Our father made the dresses, so it's his handiwork. Besides, we set the dress-code. What kind of hosts would we be if we didn't stand out, you know?" She said with a laugh.

Kaden nodded. "Thanks. Looking good, Morgan." He settled down at the table and took his cards. He didn't consider himself a great card player, but he was competitive so he was going to try his best to keep his money in his pocket. He gave the new woman's hand a shake. "Kaden. Nice to meet you. How do you know the birthday girl here?" Kaden caught a glimpse of his cards and groaned. Bad hand already. "Putain," he grumbled to himself, under his breath as much as possible before taking another drink.

Felix looked between Leah and the tables. His smile widened. "Oh, certainly! Nothing really livens things up like losing it all in one fell swoop," he said with a sagely nod. "It happens to the best of us. Even Arnold Rothstein!" Geez, the guys from decades back would be rolling over in their graves if they saw the place. "I think Nell's looking for a crew over there. There's worse places to lose but you gotta watch her. She's sneaky." He waved at Nell and Blanche before he wandered over to Bea. He lightly squeezed her shoulder as he smiled at the small crowd she had gathered at her table. "So, she take anybody's money yet? How're the hands looking?"

Morgan beamed at Leah, primping her finger curled hair and jeweled headdress. "What would I do without you, Leah? I hope that's a promise." She said, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze before settling at the table. She gave Kaden another once over, a little impressed he found it in himself to have some fun instead of doing whatever hunter nonsense or fae damage control he normally got up to. It was kind of nice to see him at least trying to have a good time. "Thanks, handsome. You look pretty good yourself. Maybe we can keep each other out of trouble tonight." As she settled in, she caught sight of a new person and shook her hand. "No, I guess not!" She said with a careless shrug. "I'm Morgan. It's nice to meet you! You're looking very spiffy tonight, I gotta say." And Morgan's hand was looking pretty spiffy too, though she tried not to let it show too much on her face.

Jared looked at Blanche in worry, but didn't voice his concerns, she knew her own limits. And while it didn't sound like a very good thing to be doing, he wasn't one for a fight at the moment. Not that he believed he had any say at all, he was far too soft to win a fight like that with anyone let alone Blanche. "I'll come, got no cash to be throwing down though. More for moral support I guess."

Jasmine couldn't help the sly smirk on her face when Kaden swore in French under her breath. "Nice to meet you, Kaden. Bea and I have been friends since high school. We were on the cheerleading squad together." She wouldn't mention that Bea beat her out for captain of the squad. With a small laugh, she added, "You know, you're not supposed to give away the fact you have a bad hand, but hey, no complaints here." She looked over her own cards and kept her face neutral before responding to the petite woman named Morgan. "Why thank you, Morgan. Couldn't show up to a Gatsby party looking anything but. I'm loving your outfit, too."

Bea nodded,"Yeah, sometimes I remember that Nell is twenty three and lose my mind." She let out a loud laugh at Kaden's groan,"You know, you're not supposed to let people know that you have a bad hand." She glanced at her own, mediocre at best, but she'd make it work. She looked back at Felix with a grin, flashing him her cards,"I haven't yet, but I will soon."

"Maybe," Blanche replied with a shrug, giving her friend a small grin. She was still in a fair bit of pain, but it helped to be distracted and surrounded by people she loved and cared about. She glanced at Jared a little sheepishly. "I hate hospital food." Not that she was feeling very hungry to begin with anyway. Blanche waved at Felix as she reached out to grab Nell's hand. "C'mon, let's go kick some ass with our friendly neighborhood cheerleader."

Anita let out a soft laugh, “I gotta admit I’ve never thrown a party that had a dress code. But you’re certainly right. This is a fancy party, and it deserves to have the people in it looking just as smashing.” She took a brief look around the room, finding herself relaxing a bit more when she spotted Morgan. At least there were two people here that she liked. “This is a bit awkward, but could you point out which one is the birthday girl? I’ve, uh, never actually met any of your sisters.”

Leah grinned widely and waved back to Jasmine, fully planning on pulling her and Bea into the photo booth at some point tonight to reenact some of their photos from high school. She laughed at Felix's comment, although she had no idea who he was talking about. Maybe some defamed poker star? She should have studied up before she came tonight. Turning her attention back to Morgan, she couldn't help but giggle again. As if to prove her point, she took another sip from her champagne, holding it out to Morgan like she was toasting to her once she was finished. Felix's idea was as good as any, though, and she called out to Nell, holding her bag up with a bit of emphasis. "I'll join a game, Nell!" she called, maneuvering through the crowd.

Morgan blinked with surprise at how close this Jasmine seemed to be with Bea. It's not every day Kaden got dragged in perfect stereo. "Neat party trick. Now I know you guys are real friends. It's good to finally meet you. Guess you've got your night cut out for you, Kaden. What're you gonna do about it?"

Felix weighed the pros and cons of asking Kaden how this party compared to the last one but thought better of it. With the sound of despair that the man gave at his hand, Felix figured he was already in for a rough night. The corner of his mouth twitched as he looked over at Morgan. "You think he's gonna need any help or should we just see what happens?"

Luce finished off her drink, the alcohol making things nice and fuzzy around the edges. She fucking deserved to get trashed tonight after all the shit that had been going on lately. Letting out a wry laugh at Anita's admission, she nodded. "I'll do you one better." She said tilting her head towards the table Bea was settled at. She could see Leah and Kaden hanging around Bea, which wasn't... ideal, but fuck it. Whatever. Walking over, she took in the cards on the table, lips curling in a smile. Bea was going to clean them out. "Who's getting fucked over this time, hm?" She asked as she approached the table. "Anita, this is the birthday girl. Bea, Anita. She's a... friend."

Nell knew that now wasn't the time to fight Blanche on this, and finally decided to simply watch the girl closely for the night. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and no doubt Blanche wanted a distraction. So just let it be fun. An excited smirk came over Nell as they neared the table, and her head turned as she spotted Leah making her way over. Was she okay winning money from her sister's best friend? Yeah, she was okay with that. "Come and join us!" Would Leah know the Vurals reputation with poker since she was so close with Bea? That might complicate things. Grabbing a champagne glass on her way to the table, she waved at Leah as she settled in. "Great! Come on over. We even brought our own cheering section," she said with a motion towards Jared.

Kaden grumbled. "Well it's clear why you two get along. I was folding anyway." He tucked the cards away and waited for the next round. He shot a look at Morgan and then at Felix. "There's always next round. It's fine." He downed the rest of his champagne. Good thing there was more where that came from. "Hey Luce. Anita. Come to see them take my money, I see."

Morgan beamed up at Felix, batting her eyes fondly. "It's more fun to see the chaos unfold, right?" She whispered sweetly to him. "Parties are more fun that way. But I won't let him get hurt too bad." She elbowed Kaden gently, warmth shining through her mischievous smile. "And hey," she said to the hunter, "A positive mindset can do a lot for your chances. Aim a little higher, champ."

Jasmine let her laughter ring as she looked to Bea. "Guess we have a habit of doing that, huh?" It wasn't surprising Kaden folded, but Morgan seemed to be pretty giddy. She wondered which of them had the better hand. "Just don't ask us to do that one on command. It's gotta be in the moment." Morgan seemed to be sweet. "There's always next hand... though I don't think you magically develop a good poker face." She added with a shrug.

Leah continued her trek toward Nell and her friends, giving Luce a big smile as she walked by. There was no doubt in her mind that she was about to lose all of her money- she wasn't experienced in poker in the very least, and the Vurals were scary good at poker. Still, her vast experienced in, well, ...lying... it might make her a good bluffer. She sat herself down at the table and finished off her glass, pumping her fist at the mention of a cheering section. "Oh man, dude, that's normally my job!". She drummed her fingers on the table, eager to get started. She let her eyes fall to Nell's, pointing to her threateningly. "Are you prepared to get your ass kicked, Vural?", she asked, teasing. Maybe the alcohol was making her more confident than she should be.

Remmy idled. They had definitely gotten ready on time, but the last time they'd gone to a big public outing, it had not gone well. Morgan was already there, she'd gone early or on time or whatever people wanted to call it these days. Remmy glanced down at Moose. "Not this time, bud," cause no one would try something in a room with all three Vurals present, right? And so, an hour later, Remmy had found themself outside the doors, listening to the chatter inside. Someone came out and held the door open for them and Remmy was suddenly forced to scuttle inside. What greeted them....wasn't exactly what they'd thought it would be. If they had the ability, they might have paled. Still, they swallowed and gathered themself, tugging on the lapel of their suit, and made a beeline for the present table. Maybe if they could just leave their gift and go, it would count as having shown up.

Anita followed Luce across the room, dropping off her empty glass and picking up a full one on the way. She didn’t love that Bea was at a table with Kaden, but Morgan was there also, so that balanced things out. Plus, Kaden had a sour look on his face, so maybe he wasn’t doing so good at the card game. “Absolutely,” She shot at Kaden. “Sounds like a fun way to pass the time.” Anita smiled politely at the other people sitting playing poker, winking playfully at Morgan as she caught her eye. “So nice to meet you, Bea. Happy Birthday, welcome to the big 3-0 club. It’s not as awful as it sounds, I promise.”

A right hunk of a man walked into the building, dressed in a basic white long sleeved shirt and long linen trousers, with a black loose next tie and a white sailor's cap. If you looked closely, you could see the velcro fastenings on all his clothes. With an exaggerated strut and a million dollar smile, he walked up to a random individual. "Well hey now good gentlefolk! I seem to have stranded on this 'ere shore. Could ya point me to the captain of this ship, a Miss Bea Vural?" He winked, flexing his arms, but casually.

"Chaos? Here?" Felix's tone dropped into a conspiratorial one. Chaos in the presence of all three Vurals? "Say, Morgan, I think we got a long, eventful night ahead of us." The fae looked over to Luce and her friend. Raised his champagne glass in greeting. "Glad to meet ya and glad you could make it out. Hiya, Luce!"

"Hey Leah," Blanche laughed as she took a seat next to Nell. "You both talk big game, huh? I think - oh my god." Blanche went a little slack jawyed when she caught sight of a sailor. She swatted Nell and pointed. "Who the hell is that??"

Jared raised his arms in a shared cheer for the cheering section and mumbled about his cheerleader outfit before looking at the sailor who'd just arrived with curious eyes. "That's her." he pointed to the birthday girl.

Luce was about to say something to Kaden, make a pithy joke at his expense. But, as a muscled man made his way to the table, arms flexing and clothes far too tight, she resisted the urge to gag. "I think the fuck not." She murmured. Casting an apologetic glance in Felix's direction, she tilted her head away. "I'm gonna go... away from here. Have fun, Bea." She said, squeezing her sister's shoulder before hurrying away from the table. She was not interested in seeing stripper dick. Walking away, she hurried as fast as she could away from the table to one of the quieter corners of the room, the gift table.

Bea let out another laugh,"Aw, Luce, don't say it like that." She raised an amused eyebrow at Luce,"A friend, huh? Nice to meet you, Anita. I'm trying not to think too much about being thirty. Make sure to grab some champagne." She glanced at Jasmine with a grin,"We do that too much." Grinning at Morgan and Felix, she replied to them,"There is never chaos at a party like this!"

Jasmine peered over her champagne flute long enough to see the hot sailor man saunter on over toward the birthday girl. She set her glass down and arched an eyebrow. "I didn't realize this was going to be that kind of party, but I'm not complaining."

"Oh come on, Leah. You know I don't have the attention span for poker," Nell lied easily. "My sisters were always better at it, which is why I put slugs in their beds." Her face was complete with a sense of resentment, as if the words were true. But the arrival of a certain someone caught her eye, and a wide smirk quickly found her lips. "Oh, that? That is Jack. He's nice, isn't he? Very shiny. Very buff. Very good at dancing."

Morgan followed Felix's gaze to Luce and Anita, who seemed to be looking rather comfortable together. She couldn't help the way her eyes bulged at the combination, especially with Remmy finally strutting up the room behind them all. "You sure aren't kidding, huh," she whispered to Felix. She tried to recover quickly. "Hey! I didn't know you knew Bea and Luce, Anita! It's great to see you here. I hope you plan to drink enough for--" her conversation died into a snort as the sailor stripper came in. "Vural parties really do pull out all the stops."

Bea head whipped toward Luce. "What is this, Luce?" She asked as she was being abandoned. She downed the rest of her champagne before holding her hand out for more,"I need more champagne." What is happening? She hadn't planned for a stripper. She supposed it wasn't the worst thing, but this was a whole lot of a lot.

Remmy had successfully made it to the gift table. They could almost pick out their friends' voices through the haze of everything, spotting them all laughing over at a table. They considered, for a moment, joining them, but if they were playing cards, they weren't sure they could stop themself from card counting and that seemed unfair for a birthday party. So, instead, they set the card down they'd made Bea, turned to slip back through the crowd-- and ran straight into Luce. "Oh!" They stuttered, stepping back. "Hey, hi. Hello! Um-- I'm just-- I didn't see you there. You look--" they paused, staring a little slack-jawed at her. Tried to swallow. "This place is--" they tried to pry their eyes away, but couldn't. "I'm just gonna...." but didn't move. "Leave now."

Anita followed everyone else's glances towards the man in velcro clothing. She had to stifle her laugh because this man was clearly about to strip for the ‘captain’, the birthday girl herself, Bea. “This is gonna be fucking hilarious.” Anita said to Morgan as she finished off a second glass of champagne. After she acquired another glass, she sat down in the chair beside Morga, then looked around the party. “No girlfriend tonight?” She whispered as she mentally prepared herself for the horror that was the male body.

Kaden blinked a moment at the goddamn striper that rolled up to the table. And then he started laughing. "At least he's not a mime." He shot a glance to Felix. "This also your idea?" Knowing he was a fae surely explained a lot more of the chaos. He saw some champagne on the table somewhere, didn't care whose it was and handed it to Bea, still laughing at the whole situation.

Jack smiled beautifully as a couple people pointed him over to a table. "Oh I'll be sure to thank y'all properly later." He winked, strutting his way over to the table with a wide smile. He tipped his cap. "Ma'am. I heard someone was in need of the art of seaduction?" He shifted his pose, so under the thin cloth of the shirt his large, impressive pecs popped.

Luce had made a quick exit from the table, practically fleeing from the male stripper. In her hurry to get away, she didn't realize where she was going until it was too late. Remmy-- Fuck. Shit, shit, shit. "Oh. Hey." She said awkwardly. As she stood there, listening to them stutter, she weighed which was worse-- going back to the table and suffering through... that or stand here and talk with Remmy. Honestly? She wasn't sure. "You... look good. Nice suit." She nodded before frowning. "Leave? Didn't you just get here?"

Leah looked over to the new guest, her eyebrows furrowing at the intrusion. This man was not someone she recognized, and her eyes were accusatory as he walked through the guests. Oh, god, was he a stripper? It all became clear when he spoke, he's dramatic tone making it obvious. If she could have shrunk down into her chair, she would have. She desperately hoped that being situated at the poker table would make her go unnoticed by him... she did not want some random dude dancing all over her, no thank you. He'd probably be pretty distracted by Bea, anyway. She turned her attention back to the table, choosing to essentially ignore his presence. "He's certainly something", she said, responding to Blanche and Nell. Her eyes were accusatory again, and it was all she could do not to laugh at Nell's words. "I'll make sure to buy something nice with the money I'm about to win from you", she said, feigning confidence. "Maybe I'll even get you a gift!". She turned her attention around to Jared, winking at him. "Are you our dealer?"

Felix threw back his champagne in record time and took a moment to get a few more glasses for everyone before he took his own seat. He looked over at Kaden. "Nope," he said with a pop. A grin followed as he took a drink. "It's not my fault this time. I'm just happy to be here, fella."

"... Well," Blanche said, glancing at Nell. This had to be her doing. She started to snicker, tipping back her champagne. She was immediately distracted from counting cards and that was certainly fine by her. "He's certainly... a seaman." Blanche made a face. "And shiny??"

Morgan sniggered alongside Anita and used everyone's distraction to advance her hand in the game a little. "No, she's uh, a little indisposed right now. Although she might be sorry she missed this much fun later. She's a fan of just about everything here, booze, friends, counting cards, and a little chaos." The stripper popped his pecks and Morgan had to look away when she started to laugh too hard, even with her politeness reserve. "Kind of a shame we didn't get one of each, huh?"

"I did not do this," Bea let Felix know as a glass of champagne was placed in her hand. "Thank you," She told Kaden, laughing slightly. As his pecs popped, Bea was both impressed and a little startled. That was a sight. "I suppose that someone is me, sailor. Work your magic."

Something was going on over at the table of all their friends, but Remmy was always a one-track mind kind of person. Easily distracted. And Luce was certainly a distraction. They weren't sure if they wanted to stay there, though, when she was looking at them like that. "Oh, uh--" they blinked and looked up, "I can like...I was just-- maybe? It's uh-- I figured I can just go say hi to Bea and then, you know--" scratched their neck, "leave." Tried to smile, turning to look towards the table and-- "Is that a stripper?" they blurted loudly.

Leah looked over to the new guest, her eyebrows furrowing at the intrusion. This man was not someone she recognized, and her eyes were accusatory as he walked through the guests. Oh, god, was he a stripper? It all became clear when he spoke, he's dramatic tone making it obvious. If she could have shrunk down into her chair, she would have. She desperately hoped that being situated at the poker table would make her go unnoticed by him... she did not want some random dude dancing all over her, no thank you. He'd probably be pretty distracted by Bea, anyway. She turned her attention back to the table, choosing to essentially ignore his presence. "He's certainly something", she said, responding to Blanche and Nell. Her eyes were accusatory again, and it was all she could do not to laugh at Nell's words. "I'll make sure to buy something nice with the money I'm about to win from you", she said, feigning confidence. "Maybe I'll even get you a gift!". She turned her attention around to Jared, winking at him. "Are you our dealer?"

Felix threw back his champagne in record time and took a moment to get a few more glasses for everyone before he took his own seat. He looked over at Kaden. "Nope," he said with a pop. A grin followed as he took a drink. "It's not my fault this time. I'm just happy to be here, fella."

"... Well," Blanche said, glancing at Nell. This had to be her doing. She started to snicker, tipping back her champagne. She was immediately distracted from counting cards and that was certainly fine by her. "He's certainly... a seaman." Blanche made a face. "And shiny??"

Morgan sniggered alongside Anita and used everyone's distraction to advance her hand in the game a little. "No, she's uh, a little indisposed right now. Although she might be sorry she missed this much fun later. She's a fan of just about everything here, booze, friends, counting cards, and a little chaos." The stripper popped his pecks and Morgan had to look away when she started to laugh too hard, even with her politeness reserve. "Kind of a shame we didn't get one of each, huh?"

Something was going on over at the table of all their friends, but Remmy was always a one-track mind kind of person. Easily distracted. And Luce was certainly a distraction. They weren't sure if they wanted to stay there, though, when she was looking at them like that. "Oh, uh--" they blinked and looked up, "I can like...I was just-- maybe? It's uh-- I figured I can just go say hi to Bea and then, you know--" scratched their neck, "leave." Tried to smile, turning to look towards the table and-- "Is that a stripper?" they blurted loudly.

Jasmine considered sharing her champagne with the birthday girl, but apparently Kaden already had her covered there. She leaned over and whispered to Bea, "Kudos to whoever picked the stripper out. He's hot." She scanned back over to see Leah's reaction and grinned at her furrowed brows. "Not the classiest party favor, but hey, fun doesn't always have to be classy."

Anita couldn’t help but let out a fairly loud laugh when she saw the stripper talking about seduction and flexing his chest muscles. It was way too over the top. “Well, at least you’ll have a hilarious story to tell her.” She replied to Morgan, motioning over to the sailor. “Uh, could you imagine? That would be a real party.” Anita looked around the table, looking to see how everyone else was reacting to this man. “But hey, since we’re both here solo, we should have some fun, yeah?” She asked, lifting up her glass to cheers.

Jack met Bea's eyes and smiled temptingly. He saluted. "Aye aye captain. I hear this here's some sorta celebration, and I'm your gift." He winked, lifting up a part of his costume, the faux white belt that attached to his trouser. He offered the end of it to Bea. "So maybe you should unwrap me?"

"How could I refuse?" Bea replied with a chuckle, before taking the belt in her hand, sipping on her champagne. This was a hell of an experience, but she would remember this for her sisters' birthdays.

"I'm sure Bea would be happy to see you, but..." Luce grimaced as she gestured behind her, to the crowd that was growing around Bea's table. She watched as the man handed her the belt of his pants and grimaced. "She's got a little bit going on right now." She said before letting out a sigh and rubbing her forehead. "Yeah. Someone got her a stripper and it sure fucking wasn't me." She mumbled. "I need a drink. I need... many drinks." Luce said as she walked over to the champagne wall and took two glasses, downing one then the other in rapid succession. "Good fucking jesus."

Nell watched the stripper events unfold with far too much amusement in her eye, pausing from her game for a moment. "I don't know why everyone's looking like I did something. He's the one docking his ship at my sister!" She had definitely done something. If you could include hiring a secret stripper as doing something. "It's probably all the sea mist that makes hims shiny."

Jared shook his head to Leah. He was not qualified to be dealing them anything other than an awkward smile and a poorly covered astonishment as the stripper made moves towards Bea. The man took a full step behind Nell as if that would protect from from what was about to happen.

Morgan nodded at Anita, taking two champagne glasses from a passing waiter and holding them up in as classy a double toast as she could manage. "Oh, completely. If I manage to win anything, without her help, showing off her presents--well, she'll either be excited or jealous, and that's a win-win for me." She downed one glass in a single chug. "Sorry yours couldn't be here either. Sincerely. But I am all having a good ol' fashioned time without them." She turned over her shoulder to the stripper, "Dance, Magic Mike!" She called, laughing harder than she meant to.

"Okay, yeah," Remmy said, backing away from the gift table, "not going over there. My eye doesn't need to see that." They followed Luce over towards the champagne wall, not bothering to take a glass themself, feeling a little jealous that they couldn't also down two glasses in succession and get rid of the anxiety-- and the image of that large man unraveling his clothes next to Bea-- but decided it was fine. "So...fun birthday, huh?" Morgan's shrill laugh echoed and Remmy fought their curiosity to look over and see what was happening. "Wanna dance?"

Jared was looking anywhere but at what was occurring (he was bi but too innocent for this sort of thing) and caught eyes with someone he vaguely recognised. His mouth bloomed into a smile and he sidled over to Kaden. "No uniform? You didn't get hired for this one?"

Jasmine giggled with glee and gave a little "woop" as Bea took his belt in his hand. "Yes, sailor, we gotta sea this." She turned to Morgan with a wide grin and noted, "I like you, Morgan."

Leah let her eyes lock with Jasmine's, a clear look of panic gracing her features, though there was definitely playfulness laced within them, too. "I will murder you if something like this shows up for my birthday", she warned her, watching Bea and the stripper with masked amusement. "I think I need more champagne!" She rolled her eyes at Nell's joke, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter.

Slowly, Felix slid off his glasses and blinked. That had to be against some kinda sea safety protocol. "...So anyhow, August is an alright month, huh?" He said absently as he looked at the stripper, his expression a little less than amused. Oh heck. It was August. The ring on the table from the champagne glass stared up at him. Oh, it was that time, wasn't it? So focused on crime and whatnot, he forgot about the dang mushrooms. He loosened his bow-tie before he sat back further into his chair. Nope. Not dealing with that today. He occupied himself with his champagne glass and turned his gaze away from the man who, as Nell gracefully put it, was docking ship.

Jasmine feigned innocence. "I would never, Leah!" She had to admit, it would be pretty hilarious to see, but she wouldn't do that to Leah. "I, for one, disagree. This sailor is more than welcome to my birthday bash." She gave him a sly wink.

Jack gave her a sultry wink, and once she held the belt tightly enough, he stepped back, flexing every muscle in his body as the outfit popped off it, one velcro fastening at a time, until it all dropped to the floor. All he was left in was his navy blue mesh thong, and his matching necktie. His dark skin glistened, every inch of him (and he did mean every inch) was toned and muscled to perfection, a physique that could make anyone jealous or horny. He rolled his hips slightly, letting them look and salivate.

Kaden was sitting back and laughing at this whole thing. And hey, still not a mime stripper so it was really still a win. His brow furrowed when the kid with the tractor came over to him. "Oh, hi. Uh, what are you talking about?" A quick glance to the stripper and then back to the kid, it became clear what he meant. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not a mime. Or a stripper. I'm Bea's friend. You must be mistaken. Who are you anyway?" He was never admitting that was him the other day. Ever.

Luce made the mistake of glancing over at the loud laughs that rang out from Bea's table. And immediately wished she hadn't. Some things just couldn't be unseen. At least, not without far more champagne. "Fuck me." She said and took another glass from the wall, head already beginning to spin from the alcohol. "Dance? I--" She blinked. Dancing. "I... Sure. Why not." She said, taking their hand and walking with them over to the dance floor.

Oh this was much easier to deal with when this man had his pants on. Bea sent a look over to Felix that she hoped conveyed, Oh dear, lord what is happening? "Wow, consider me seduced." She finished her drink quickly. Was there going to be more after this?

Jared was taken aback for a second and then he made an oh shape with his mouth and grinned at the other. "Riiiiiight, not a stripper! Of course. No worries, I won't out you. Not dressed as a mime can't blow your cover I gotchu." he whispered.

Nell cupped her hands around her mouth, wasting no time it letting a loud whoop mixed with laughter fill the air as Bea undid Jack's attire, revealing his seascape to everyone. "Make him your bitch, Bea!" Maybe the champagne was hitting her harder than she'd thought. Then she turned back to Leah to say, "I'm getting you ten strippers for your birthday! You should be so lucky! I'm gonna get you the whole armada of sea-men!"

Oh. Luce had said yes. Remmy didn't actually think she would have said yes, but she had! They smiled, stealing only the slightest of glances over to Bea's table before turning back around when blue mesh was spotted in a place they didn't mean-- or want-- to look. They followed Luce over to the dance floor, placing their free hand on her hip when they made it there. "It was really nice of you guys to do this for Bea," they said to her, smiling. Maybe if they just didn't say anything weird things could be alright, "she deserves it."

Anita hesitated when Morgan made a loose reference to Marley. Realistically, she knew there was no way Morgan knew that they were actually girlfriends now, but she got oddly nervous. “Maybe a good thing given how our last double date went.” She smiled, then decided to change the topic. “How many drinks do you think it would take to enjoy this for more than just comedic purposes?” It was a tease, obviously, since the answer was infinity drinks. Anita looked over at the woman who seemed to be enjoying it the most and laughed. She was kind of jealous of the people who were enjoying it. Then she overheard someone asking Kaden if he was a mime stripper, and she absolutely lost it, keeling over with laughter. “He’s definitely a stripper! You just gotta offer the right price!” She called over in between laughs.

Bea glanced over at Kaden. "If you start stripping here, I will kick you out. I support you, but not here," She teased.

Kaden pinched his nose. "Kid, there's nothing to out. I work in animal control." He sighed, clearly there was no way to convince him so he downed the champagne he had left. Oh no. Anita heard, too? Which was worse, mime fucker or mime striper? "Putain de merde, I am not a stripper! That's a stripper," he said pointing to the lap dance happening across the way. "I'm a cop."

Jared "RIIIIIGHT I gotchu." He looked at the woman he didn't know and whispered "DOn't blow his cover that's not cool, mimes can't be seen talking." and then he clapped Kaden on the back. "Cop as well huh? Good with costumes?"

Blanche was cackling, laughing so hard that it actually hurt her and her injuries. Wheezing, she swatted Nell, giving Bea her own whoop. "Get it, Bea!!" she cackled, grabbing another flute of champagne. "We know this is your.... Fanta-sea."

Leah rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her new champagne. Of course Jasmine would want this dude at her birthday party. "I'll get his number from Nell", she teased. "That way you can just call him whenever you want. Bad day? Call the Sailor Stripper man, he'll make it all better!" Her eyes widened comically at Nell's joke. It felt more like a threat, to be honest. She wouldn't put it past the younger woman to actually pull something like that off. "Nell, Nell. ...Nell." She let out a breath, shaking her head no. "Nell... I think you know that if you even try that, you'll regret it." Would she ever do anything that might hurt Nell? Absolutely not, and Nell probably knew that, too. But it was worth the threat, if only to avoid the embarrassment and the mere suggestion of what Nell was threatening to do.

Morgan snorted again, some of her champagne flying up her nose. "Kaden, you didn't tell me you had a passion-project second job! You gotta follow your heart, and invest in all of the best props for your set list." She patted his shoulder, beaming, and got up from the table, taking Anita by the hand. "Y'all are swell, but Jacky Boy isn't our type. We'll come back around though!" She slid her arm through Anita's and escorted her around the room, aiming for the dance floor at a safe, respectful distance from Remmy, who seemed to be finally working things out with Luce. "How's that for a save?" She asked Anita.

Bow-tie thoroughly loosened, Felix shifted in his seat before he got up and went to Bea's side. His eyes went to Kaden for a moment. Not you too, his eyes said. "Wow, you sure know how to clear a deck, fella!" His smile was sharp as he looked at the stripper. "You know, I think there's someone else here who could really use the kinda good time you've provided us all with. Hey Nell!" He called over before he looked back to Jack. "That's the one. Promise you'll show her a decent time? She's great. Dynamite. Aces. She deserves it. It's been a tough month."

Jasmine joked, "Oh Bea, that's not fun." The French man was attractive enough he could pull off the looks, but he didn't look like much of a dancer. Still, she poked fun. "So, you do a cop strip show then." She could see Bea was getting a bit uncomfortable, so she sauntered over to that side of table and tapped Jack's soldier. "Hey, Sailor, I think your moves may be a bit more appreciated over here."

Luce 's head was spinning, the bright lights and decorations sparkling in the light. The sound of the band's music was almost enough to drown out the chaos of what was happening behind her, but she could still hear Blanche and Nell shouting words of encouragement at the male stripper, who was no doubt... doing his job. Remmy's hand rested on her hip and she blinked. "I don't know if she deserves that specifically. I definitely didn't pay for that guy." She said with a shake of her head. "Fucking Nell... I bet she hired him."

Jasmine grinned widely at Leah. "Please, do. One of the girls is having a bachelorette party soon and he'd be perfect!"

Jack looked over to Nell with a quick promising wink. He'd definitely be by her seat later. But he had to give the birthday girl his attention first. He turned on the spot, giving Bea a show of every single one of his muscles. She didn't seem as eager as the girl to his side, so when he leant in to ask a question, it was with his normal, quiet voice. "Do you want a dance or do you want me to take myself somewhere else?" But it seemed his question was answered by the others around. He flashed both the hot at the gills looking guy and the pretty lady who tapped his shoulder. "You got my sailor's oath!" He told Felix, and turned over to Nell. "You want me to swab your decks, miss?"

"I'm not stripping because I'm not a stripper!" Kaden started cursing under his breath. The kid, Anita, Morgan, Felix, and Bea, too? Come on. "Someone back me up here. Anyone! Come on, let's go back to taking my money, that'd be great, right?"

Bea glanced between both Felix and Jasmine,"Thank you." Standing, she grabbed Felix's hand,"Do you want to go dance?" She could use a little bit of time away from the chaos of the table, even as fun as it was. "Have fun, Nell!" She cackled as Jack made her way over.

Remmy gave a chuckle, shaking their head. "I meant a good time," they said, stepping in time to the music and moving Luce with them. It was a more upbeat tune, the music drifting around them, and Remmy spun her a little before pulling her back in. "You all deserve a good night to let loose and have--" they flinched at the sound of Blanche's loud shout cutting through even the loud music, giving Luce a sheepish grin, "--fun."

Blanche paled as the stripper turned on Nell. "Oh no. You're on your own." She started to inch away.

Anita followed Morgan out to the dance floor, grinning widely. This was far preferred to watching a man strip. “The absolute best save. You’re my hero,” she grinned widely as she began to dance with her friend. As they danced she noticed Luce dancing with some person she didn’t quite recognize. She smiled softly, they seemed nice together. Turning her attention back towards Morgan, she laughed as she could still hear the things people were saying by the stripper. “This party did not really go how I was expecting… but this does make me kinda wanna hire a stripper for my next birthday.”

“What?!" Nell squawked as the tables were turned, and suddenly there was a whole ocean of flesh coming closer. "Blanche, don't you dare fucking leave me. This is what you get for running away from the hospital!" she said as her friend tried to inch away, latching onto a non-injured portion of Blanche with a vice-like grip. "My decks are good, though! Freshly swabbed! Just got them done yesterday!"

Leah pushed herself closer to Jasmine as the stripper came closer to where they were sitting, all but turning her back to him and Nell with an amused but mortified look. In a supportive move, she grabbed Blanche's wrist and pulled her toward them as well, holding her close.

"We know, Kaden," Felix said with a solemn nod. "The champagne tower is all yours, friend. I know it's a real hard time for ya." He laced his fingers with Bea's and smiled as he led her towards the dance floor. "I don't know how I'll compare to our new pal Jack over there but I'll do my best for you, doll."

Jane had been stealing other guests money at a different table, and went to go see what the commotion was. Jane saw Jack, and snorted as she heard Kaden assuring everyone he wasn't a stripper. She clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on Kaden, everyone here knows you strip to ABBA."

"I don't want to think about my sister having a good time with that." Luce said automatically, shuddering. She let Remmy spin her around, her feet just a bit clumsy underneath her as they danced. The haze of the alcohol was settling in, everything golden and bright around them. Tilting her head, she looked at them, eyebrows arching. "Mm, you're not wrong. You know," She said, pausing for a moment before leaning in closer to Remmy, "I can think of a couple fun things we could do."

"Oh, I'll take your money for free, Kaden!" Morgan called over her shoulder, winking at him. "Is that a promise?" The music was picking up and she took her friend's hand, whirling her around as they came near the dance floor. "Anita, I will hire you only the best, most voluptuous strippers for your birthday. Name the date, and they're all yours." She spun them around again as the music picked up. "Also, fun fact about me no one here knows yet? I know how to do the charleston." She started to demonstrate, working more flare into it than usual. "If you take another drink, I'll even teach you too."

Jared had a lot of people backing up the knowledge that this kaden guy was a stripper. He was embarrassed but Jared pat him on the arm. "Don't worry bud, no one is judging. I'm sure you're a wonderful stripper."

Jasmine cackled as Nell tried to back away from the stripper. There had to be some sort of anecdote about not hiring a stripper if you're not down for a lap dance. "Good call, the kid definitely doesn't need a stripper." Leah was held on to the small girl even though Nell tried to keep her in the stripper's orbit. She wondered if this short blonde girl was even old enough to be here. "I'm guessing Nell's the one who hired our sailor friend here." Good taste, just not Bea's. She nearly spit out her champagne when it was mentioned Kaden stripped to ABBA. "Oh honey, we need to get you a better playlist."

As the world faded from view, and tsunami Jack took over the majority of Nell's line of sight, she raised a single middle finger across the room, pointed directly at Felix.

Remmy looked around the hall-- people laughing, people grinning, people just plain having fun, having the time of their lives-- and decided that not everything in the world was bad. In fact, there was a lot more good than bad. There had to be, right? Luce looked stunning, Bea looking like shew as having the time of her life now that she was on the dance floor, even Nell, though flustered, looked like she was having fun. And Blanche and Morgan and everyone else. Remmy spun Luce one more time before bringing her close, smiling warmly at her drunken words. "Maybe tomorrow," they said back to her softly, "once the alcohol has worn off."

Kaden turned to see Jane behind him. Of fucking course. "Fuck you, Wu." He was going to need something stronger than champagne soon. There was no living this down was there?

"I think you'll do just fine," Bea let out a little laugh. As she looked around the party, she felt warm. Just last week she had been kicked out of the community that had raised her and she had felt alone. Her family and friends were the people here, having fun and celebrating this day with her. "As ridiculous has this has turned out, this has been one of my best birthdays." Even without her parents or friends from the Coven, she was happy. All these people, even Jack, had helped her make this birthday perfect. She couldn't ask for better people to spend this day with.

#chatzy #bea day party #ch:jared #ch:blanche #ch:anita #ch:leah #ch:kaden #ch:bea #ch:luce #ch:jasmine #ch:felix #ch:morgan #ch:remmy #ch:jane

[wherewindysurgeswend]

deep heart’s core: chapter five

chapter 1

chapter 2  

chapter 3

chapter 4

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed): @tunes-on-a-typewriter @rememberedkisses​

Margaret couldn’t stay mad at Larry forever, so she stopped trying after a few hours. Kathleen had also more or less given up on her dislike of Margaret, rationalizing that since Margaret had stood up for her, she couldn’t be all bad. After much coaxing, Anna had finally managed to get someone — in this case, Larry, with multiple interjections and corrections from Margaret — to explain what had happened. When the story was over, she looked at the three of them in bemused silence. “But why in the world would you think that was a good idea?” she finally said after a long moment. Kathleen shrugged.

“It seemed like it might be fun. And besides, now I know my theory works.” Anna was tempted to say something disapproving, but she kept herself in check. Larry looked at his watch. “Well,” he said, “it’s nearly lunchtime. Shall we go?” He gestured to Margaret to follow him and the two walked off towards the first-class dining hall. Anna and Kathleen headed to the second class dining hall.

The dining hall was crowded and noisy. Anna and Kathleen found their way to their usual table, narrowly avoiding colliding with a busboy, and sat down next to Kathleen’s parents. ‘Hello girls,” said Florence, “Have a nice morning?” Anna and Kathleen looked at each other. “Yes,” said Anna, as convincingly as possible, “Not very eventful.” she could see Kathleen stifling a giggle.

The waiter put a bowl of vegetable soup and two saltine crackers in front of Anna. She was adding salt and pepper to the soup when she heard what sounded like an argument happening at the entrance of the dining hall. One of the voices sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She turned her head to see what was going on. “Larry?” she said aloud when she saw who was there. Kathleen, who had been talking about politics with her father and carefully taking all the carrots out of her soup (she hated carrots) looked up and saw her friend. She called his name loudly enough for him to hear and then, when he was looking at her, motioned for him to come join them. Joseph and Florence Lynch, who hadn’t met Larry, looked at each in confusion. Larry said something Anna couldn’t quite hear to the man he was arguing with. Whatever he had said seemed to win him the argument, and he hurried over to the table. Up close, Anna noticed that he seemed to be out of breath, like he’d been running. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it in Kathleen’s face. “Do you see this?” he asked, “It’s a disaster! What the hell are we going to do?”

“Of course I don’t see it, Einstein,” said Kathleen, “You keep waving it around, and besides, I don’t have my glasses on. Give me that.” she grabbed the piece of paper, put on her glasses, and read it. Anna saw her eyes widen in disbelief. “No!” she said incredulously to Larry when she was finished. Larry nodded sadly.

“Yes,” he said resignedly. 

“But I thought your uncle said —”

“He was wrong.”

“But what are we going to —”

“What can we do?” 

“Surely there’s something!” Larry shook his head. Joseph Lynch, who had been looking on in complete confusion, finally spoke up. “For heaven’s sake, will someone just tell me what’s going on? And who in the world is this?” he gestured vaguely toward Larry. 

“Lawrence Sterling Kittredge, Jr. at your service, sir,” said Larry, holding out his hand for him to shake. Joseph eyed him suspiciously then turned back to his daughter. “What the hell is going on, Kath?” 

While Kathleen was recounting the whole story to her parents, Larry turned to Anna. “Evening, Miss Byrne,” he said.

“Anna. And it’s half past noon.”

“I know. I just thought ‘evening’ had more charm to it.” Anna couldn’t help laughing.

“Fair enough. So, what’s going on?” “This,” he said, handing the piece of paper to Anna, who read it. It was a telegram addressed to Larry’s uncle and signed Margaret Sterling Kittredge. At first this puzzled Anna: why would Margaret be sending telegrams to her father, who was on the same boat as her? And if she did, why would it be cause for such alarm? But she quickly realized that this was from the other Margaret Kittredge: the much-feared matriarch. But it was the content of the telegram, not its author, that made Anna understand what the commotion was about. “She’s meeting you in Paris?” she asked Larry. Larry nodded.

“Yes. I guess it stupid to think she would just let it go. She never misses an opportunity to make me squirm.” He said the last part with a bitterness that surprised Anna. 

“This is bad, isn’t it? I mean, she’ll want to meet Kathleen. How’s that going to go?” Larry shrugged. “Guess so. Not much we can do about it now. I suppose if anyone can charm my grandmother it’s Kathleen.” Anna had to admit that part was true. People just liked Kathleen. Still, from what she had heard about Larry’s grandmother, she wouldn’t want her friend to have to confront her. “But… What are you going to tell her? Admit you lied?” Larry laughed, but he didn’t seem happy. “Are you kidding? She’ll eat me alive — eat both of us alive. No, I suppose we’ll just have to keep up the charade a little longer — just long enough for Kath to convince her she’s not going to blackmail anyone, and —” 

“Blackmail?” said Kathleen, who had happened to catch a word of what Larry had said, from across the table, “Who are you blackmailing? Can I come?”

“What was that you said about Kath convincing your grandmother she wasn’t going to blackmail anyone, Larry?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t blackmail Larry’s grandmother. I thought maybe you had dirt on some awful person and I wanted to help you extort them.”

“You’re really not helping your case, Kath.”

“Case? Who’s got a case? I just like helping my friends, is all.”

“That’s our Kath,” said Larry drily, “always ready with a helping hand.”

“I’ll have you know, Lawrence, that I am a kind and generous person and I did not come here to have aspersions cast on my character in such a way as this,” said Kathleen in mock offense. 

“I suppose you didn’t, since you came here to have lunch,” Larry shot back. Kathleen rolled her eyes at him.  “If you must make jokes, Larry, at least make good ones.”

“Who says my jokes aren’t good? Anna’s laughing, isn’t she?”

“Anna laughed for four solid minutes an hour ago when Margaret mispronounced ‘picturesque’ as ‘picture-askew.’ I don’t think Anna laughing at something proves it’s funny.” Anna crumpled up a paper napkin and tossed it at Kathleen. “If you don’t want me implying you would blackmail people then you shouldn’t imply I don’t know what is and isn’t funny.”

“Luke 6:22: ‘Blessed are you when men hate you, and ostracize you, and insult you, and scorn your name as evil, for the sake of the Son of Man. Be glad in that day and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven. For in the same way their fathers used to treat the prophets.’”

“I’m Jewish, Kath. Just tell me I’m afraid of the truth like a normal person instead of quoting scripture at me like some kind of deranged evangelist.”

“Fine. You’re afraid of the truth.”

“No, I’m not, but I appreciate the effort. Larry’s joke was funny, end of discussion.”

“I must say, Annabelle —”

“Not my name.”

“That’s irrelevant. I thought we were friends, but now I find you have betrayed me. Oh, cruel fate!”

“My apologies. Anyway, I should be going now. I have to finish that letter to my mother. Good luck with… well, whatever this is.” She got up and left.

“Does Margaret know?” Kathleen asked Larry.

“I don’t know. I suppose her father will have told her.”

“She’s never going to let you live this down, is she?”

“Margaret has never let me live anything down in my life. If you hang around her long enough you’ll know about every humiliating thing I’ve ever done.”

#here we go! chapter five :) #deep heart's core #writeblr #my writing #i'll be seeing queue

[therealmadblonde]

October 31

And so the day arrived, cloudy, and with a small wind out of the north. I told myself that I was not nervous, that as an old hand at this there were no jitters of anticipation, rushes of anxiety, waves of pure fear. But I had gone down to the basement to begin my rounds when I realized that there were no rounds to make, and I found myself returning to check our assembly of ingredients and tools over and over again.

Finally, I went out and visited Larry’s place. He was gone from his grove and the house seemed empty.

I went looking for Graymalk, and when we met we took a walk together.

We hiked for a long time in silence before she said, “You and Jack will be the only closers there.”

“It looks that way,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“Jill and I will be going to a meeting at the vicarage this afternoon. Morris and MacCab will be there, too.”

“Oh? Strategy session?”

“I guess so.”

We climbed to Dog’s Nest and looked around. An altarlike raised area of boulders had been built up before the big stone. Heavy boards lay across it. Some kindling for the banefire was already stacked, farther off.

“Right there,” she said.

“Yes.”

“We’re going to protest the sacrifice part.”

“Good.”

“You think Larry will be able to do what he plans?”

“I don’t know.”

We climbed down a different way than we’d gone up, discovering some fresh misshapen footprints. “I wonder what’ll become of the big fellow now,” she said. “I feel sorry for him. That night he picked me up he didn’t mean to hurt me, I could tell.”

“Another lost one,” I said.

“Yes, sad.”

We walked again in silence, then, “I want to stand near you in the arc,” she said. “I believe the vicar will be at the left end, with Morris and MacCab next to him, Tekela and Nightwind with them, then Jill. I will stand to her right. I will assume a position three paces forward. That would put you and Jack beside us.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’ve been working for this arrangement. You must be to my right and slightly back— that is, to Jack’s left.”

“Why?”

“Because something bad may happen if you stand to his right.”

“How do you know this?”

“My small wisdom.”

I thought about it. The old cat in the Dreamworld was obviously on her side, and she was an opener. Therefore, he could be setting me up for something. However, his remarks concerning the Elders had almost seemed disparaging, and he had seemed kindly disposed toward me. Reason stopped here. I knew that I had to trust my feelings.

“I’ll do it.”

When we neared our area, I said, “I’m going to walk over again to see whether Larry’s back. Want to come with?”

“No. That meeting…”

“All right. Well — It’s — been good.”

“Yes. I never knew a dog this well before.”

“Same with cats and me. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yes.”

She headed home.

I searched all around Larry’s place again, but there was no sign of his return. On my way home, I heard my name hissed from a clump of weeds.

“Snuff, old boy. Good to see you. I was on my way over. Saved me a trip…”

“Quicklime! What have you been up to?”

“Hanging out in that orchard, eating the hard stuff,” he said. “Just stopped by for a quick one, on the way over.”

“Why were you coming to see me?”

“Learned something. Wanted you to know.”

“What?” I asked.

“I picked up a bad habit from Rastov, I guess. Look at me. I feel like I’m shedding my skin.”

“You’re not.”

“I know. But I really liked him. When I left you, I headed for the orchard and just started eating the old, fermented ones. It was — snug — with him. I felt like somebody needed me. The fruit’s almost gone now. I’ll come around. I’ll be all right. But I’ll miss him. He was a good man. The vicar got him — that’s what Nightwind told me. Wanted to narrow the field. That’s why the Count disposed of Owen — to send the vicar a message. You’ll get the vicar, won’t you?”

“Quick, I think you’ve had too much. Owen was killed after the Count was staked.”

“Clever, isn’t he? That’s what I was coming to tell you about. He fooled us. He’s still around.”

“What? How?”

“When I reached the peak of my indulgence the other night,” he replied, “I suddenly felt terribly lonely. I didn’t want to be alone, so I went looking for someone, something— lights, movement, sounds. I went over to the Gipsy camp, which was perfect. I curled up beneath a wagon, planning to spend the night there and sleep it off. But I overheard parts of a conversation from the wagon which led me to make my way up between its floorboards. I had chosen the wagon, and a pair of guards were in it. Sometimes they’d speak in their own tongue, sometimes in English — the younger one wanted the practice. I spent the night in there instead of below. But I learned the story. I even found an opening that gave me a view of the casket.”

“He’s with the Gipsies?”

“Yes. They guard him by day as he sleeps, guard the casket at night when he’s away.”

“So he’d faked it,” I said. “Dressed the skeleton we’d found in his garments, put the stake into it himself.”

“Yes, the crumbly skeleton that was already there.”

“…And that’s why the ring wasn’t on it.”

“Yes, and he was safe in that, too. Anybody finding the remains would assume that the staker had taken it.”

I felt a chill.

“Quick, he did make this arrangement after the death of the moon, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Your calculations would be unaffected.”

“Good. But this I don’t understand — the Count killed Owen because the vicar killed Rastov. Owen was an opener. Does that reflect a particular sympathy on the part of the Count? Or was he simply out to check the vicar and keep the violence from spreading?”

“I don’t know. Nothing was said on the matter.” I growled softly.

“This is a complicated one,” I said.

“Agreed. Now you know everything I do.”

“Thanks. Want to come with me?”

“No. I’m really out of the Game. Good luck.”

“’Luck, Quick.”

I heard him slither off.

It rained a little that afternoon, and stopped shortly after sunset. I went outside to look for the moon, and Bubo came with me. The clouds still veiled her, however, and all we could see was the big area of brightness she shed in the east. The wind blew chill.

“So this is it,” Bubo said. “By morning it will all be decided.”

“Yes.”

“I wish I could have been playing all along.”

“A wish on the moon,” I said. “It may be true. You have been playing, in a way. You’ve traded information, you’ve watched things develop, same as the rest of us.”

“Yes, but I didn’t really do important things like the rest of you.”

“It’s mainly the little things — all added up — that give us the final picture, that make the difference.”

“I suppose so,” he said. “Yes, it was fun. Do you think — Could I possibly come with? I’d like to see it happen, however it goes.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We couldn’t be responsible for a civilian, too. I think it’s going to be a rough one.”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’d guessed you’d say that, but I had to ask.”

I left him there after a time, watching the sky. The moon was still hidden. And so…

We left before midnight, of course, Jack and I, he in a warm coat and carrying a satchel containing the equipment. Under his other arm, he bore a few small logs for the fire. We left without bothering to lock the door.

The sky was beginning to clear overhead, though the moon was still masked. There was sufficient light just from its glow-through, however, to show our way clearly. There was a chill, damp breeze at our backs.

Soon, Dog’s Nest was before us, and Jack decided we should circle it and mount its eastern slope.

We did that, and as we came in sight of the top a small glow was already apparent off in the circle toward the stone with the inscription. Moving nearer, we saw that Vicar Roberts and Morris and MacCab were tending a small fire they had obviously just gotten going, nursing it to achieve greater compass. The vicar’s ear was unbandaged now, and light showed through two high perforations in it. The heap of kindling was much larger than when Graymalk and I had been by earlier.

The banefire is a necessary part of our business. It goes all the way back into the misty vastness of our practices. Both sides require it, so in this sense it is a neutral instrument. After midnight, it comes to burn in more than one world, and we may add to it those things which enhance our personal strengths and serve our ends. It attracts otherworldly beings sympathetic to both sides, as well as neutral spirits who may be swayed by the course of the action. Voices and sights may pass through it, and it serves as a secondary, supportive point of manifestation to whatever the opening or closing object may be.

Customarily, we all bring something to feed it, and it interacts with all of us throughout the ritual. I had urinated on one of our sticks, for example, several days earlier. There are times when players have been attacked by its flames; and I can recall an instance when one was defended by a sudden wall of fire it issued. It is also good for disposing of evidence. It comes in handy on particularly cold nights, too.

“Good evening,” Jack said as we approached, and he added his contribution to the woodpile.

“Good evening, Jack,” the vicar said, and Morris and MacCab nodded.

Lynette lay on her back upon the altar, head turned in our direction, eyes closed, breathing slow. Well drugged, of course. She had on a long white garment, and her dark hair hung loose. I looked away. Obviously, the protest had been overridden. I sniffed the air. No sign of Jill or Graymalk yet.

The fire bloomed more brightly. Jack set his bag down and moved to help with it. I decided on a quick patrol of the area, and I made a big circuit. There was nothing unusual to be found. I went and stared at the huge stone. Just then the edge of the moon appeared from behind the clouds. Its light fell upon it. The markings had become visible again — dark, upon the illuminated surface. I went and sat by Jack’s satchel. The vicar had on a dark cloak which made a swishing sound as he moved. It did not conceal the fact that he was a short, slightly fat man, and it neither added to nor detracted from his appearance of menace. That was all in his face, with its intense expression of controlled mania. The moon was doubled in his glasses.

Under their joint ministrations the banefire grew to a respectable size. The vicar was the first to toss something into it, a small parcel which crackled and flared bluely. I took a sniff. It involved herbs I’d encountered before. Morris added two parcels, which I could tell involved bones. Jack added a very small one which produced a green flash. I tossed in one of my own, along with the pissed-on stick. The moon slid completely free of the clouds.

The vicar went and stared at the inscription, not even glancing at his stepdaughter. Then he backed away, turned to his left, took several paces, halted, turned back toward the stone. He adjusted his position slightly, then scuffed at the ground with his bootheel.

“I will position myself here,” he stated, glancing at Jack.

“I have no objection,” Jack said. “Your associates will be to your right, I presume?”

“That was what I had in mind. Morris here, MacCab to his right, then Jill,” he said, gesturing.

Jack nodded, just as a dark shape swept past the face of the moon. Moments later, Nightwind dropped out of the sky, coming to rest atop the woodpile.

“Hello, Snuff,” he observed. “Care to switch?”

“No, thanks. Yourself?”

He did one of those unusual rotations of his head.

“I think not, especially when we outnumber you in all respects.”

Shortly, Tekela swept in with a caw, landing upon the vicar’s left shoulder.

“Greetings, Nightwind,” she said.

“A good Game to you, sister.”

She looked at me and looked away. She said nothing. Neither did I. Everyone added more kindling and more ingredients to the fire. Finally, a pair of fairly large logs were set upon it. Many-colored flames played about them, and soon the logs darkened and the fires danced upon their surfaces. A mixture of odors reached me as powders, bones, herbs, fleshy samples of anatomy — both human and other — were added. A few vials of liquid were also dumped upon it, to smolder and produce heavy, crawling ropes of smoke, to flare brightly, briefly. Within the crackling, I seemed to hear a subliminal whispering begin.

I heard Jill’s footsteps mounting the northern slope long before she appeared. When she did she was hard to distinguish against the night for several moments, as she had on a hooded black cloak over a long black dress. She looked taller, more slim; and she carried Graymalk, though she set her down immediately when she achieved the level area.

“Good evening,” she said, in general. All four men responded.

“Hi, Snuff,” Graymalk said, coming up beside me. “It’s a good fire already.”

“Yes.”

“As you can see…”

“You were overridden.”

“Did you find Larry?”

“No.”

“Oh my.”

“There is a backup plan,” I said, and Nightwind came by just then, to greet Graymalk.

I felt a strong desire to howl at the moon. It was such a howlable moon. But I restrained myself.

The smell of incense reached me. Jill had just begun casting parcels into the banefire. The moon moved nearer to midheaven.

“How will we know when it is time to begin?” Graymalk asked me.

“When we can talk with the people.”

“Of course.”

“How’s your back?”

“It’s all right now. You look fit.”

“I’m fine.”

We watched the fire for a time. Another log was added, and more packets. The smells became a sweetly seductive bouquet. The flames leaped higher now, changing colors regularly, flickering in the wind. Sharp, tinkling musical sounds came sporadically from their midst, and the sounds of voices rose into and out of audibility. Looking away from it, my gaze was attracted by a new light source. The inscription was beginning to glow. Overhead, the moon had reached midheaven.

“Jack, can you hear me?” I called.

“Loud and clear, Snuff. Well-met by moonlight. What’s on your mind?”

“Just checking the time,” I said.

Suddenly Nightwind was talking to Morris and MacCab, Tekela to the vicar.

“I guess it’s time,” Graymalk said, “to take our places.”

“It is,” I replied.

She went off to collect Jill, who was tossing a final packet into the fire. The air was distorted above its colored flames now, as if it were burning in more than one place simultaneously, and in the shimmering area just about it one could catch glimpses of some of those other places. From somewhere to the north, I heard the howl of a wolf.

The vicar went and stood at the spot he had indicated. Morris and MacCab moved to take up their positions to his right; Nightwind stood atop a rock between them. Then Jill moved to stand beside MacCab, Graymalk next to her but three cat-paces forward. I went and stood near her, Jack to my right. The line was bowed, out away from the big stone, with Jack and the vicar across from each other. Lynette dozed on the altar about ten feet in front of me.

From somewhere within his cloak, the vicar removed the pentacle bowl, which he placed on the ground before him. Then he withdrew the Alhazred Icon, which he propped against a rock to his left, facing the glowing stone. Nightwind moved to a new position, back behind the pentacle. The openers always begin things, as the closers’ work is purely reactive.

Jack’s satchel, to his right, was already open, from the removal of various ingredients for the banefire, but he leaned and spread its mouth fully, for easy access.

MacCab knelt and spread a piece of white cloth upon the ground before him. As it was windy, he weighted its corners with small stones. Then, from an ornate sheath which hung from his belt beneath his jacket, he drew a long, thin blade which looked to me like a sacrificial knife, and he placed this upon the cloth, point toward the altar.

Then the moon went out. We all looked upward as a dark shape covered it, descending, rushing toward us. Morris shrieked shrilly as it fell, changing shape as if dark veils swam about it. And then the moon shone again, and the piece of midnight sky which had fallen came to earth beside Jack, and I saw that vision-twisting transformation of which Graymalk had spoken — here, there, a twist, a swirl, a dark bending — and the Count stood at Jack’s side, smiling a totally evil smile. He laid his left hand — the dark ring visible upon it — upon Jack’s right shoulder.

“I stand with him,” he said, “to close you out.” Vicar Roberts stared at him and licked his lips.

“I would think one of your sort more inclined to our view in this matter,” the vicar stated.

“I like the world just the way it is,” said the Count. “Pray, let us begin.” The vicar nodded.

“We shall,” he said, “to its proper conclusion, with the Gate thrown wide.”

The Count tossed a twig and a small parcel into the flames. The fire moved in its colorful dance, crackling and chiming, burning a hole in the night, through which the voices — now chanting — emerged. Shadows constantly moved past us, over the altar, and across the face of the stone. I heard the howl again, much nearer.

I looked at the vicar and saw him flinch. But he straightened and performed an opening gesture. He spoke a word of power, deeply, slowly. It hung in the air and resonated afterwards.

The inscription on the stone began to glow a little more brightly, and now — very faintly — I could discern the formation of the door-like rectangle come to frame it, that configuration which earlier had sucked Graymalk and me through to our Dreamworld adventure.

The vicar repeated the word and the rectangle came clear.

Within the chanting, I could now hear faintly “Iä! Shub-Niggurath!” being repeated, as if in response. Ahead of me, Graymalk had risen to her feet and was standing very stiffly.

The vicar turned then, rather than proceeding to the next phase, and moved slowly to the cloth on which the sacrificial blade rested. To his rear, I noted that the Alhazred Icon had also begun to glow. He knelt and raised the blade with both hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Then he rose and turned toward the altar, Tekela still upon his shoulder.

And there came a movement from my right, beyond Jack and the Count. Another dark shape was moving to join us.

The vicar had taken but a single step ahead when a great, gray wolf moved into the firelight and rushed past him toward the altar. Larry Talbot had arrived, apparently in reasonable control of his faculties.

He seized hold of the girl’s left shoulder with his teeth and dragged her down from the altar. With that rapid backing motion I had seen him employ before, he dragged her quickly before us toward the north, whence he had come, to my right.

The report of a gunshot filled the air and Larry staggered, a dark blot appearing and spreading high upon his left shoulder. The vicar held a smoking revolver, pointed in his direction. Larry continued moving almost immediately, however, and the vicar fired again.

This time there was blood on the top of Larry’s head, and he uttered a moaning sound as his jaws fell open and Lynette dropped to the ground. Larry slumped forward then, and the shiftings of firelight and shadow swam over him. The chanting continued — “Iä!

Shub-Niggurath!” — against the strange music. The vicar pulled the trigger again. There followed a clicking sound from the pistol, but no discharge. Immediately, he drew it near and worked the hammer. Suddenly, as he released it, there was a sharp report and the round kicked up dirt near the south end of the altar. The vicar hurled the weapon to the ground, perhaps having cast only three rounds. Homemade bullets…

“Get her back onto the altar!” the vicar ordered. Morris and MacCab immediately departed their positions and moved toward the supine girl. Larry’s sides were still heaving heavily, and his eyes were closed. There was a lot more blood, on his head, neck, shoulder, now.

“Stop!” the Count said. “Players are forbidden to move a sacrifice once the ceremony is in progress!”

The vicar stared at him. Morris and MacCab halted, looked back and forth from the vicar to the Count.

“I never heard of such a restriction,” the vicar said.

“It is a part of the tradition,” Jack stated. “There must always be a small — even if only symbolic — exit open to a sacrifice in this. They may go as far as they can. They may be stopped. The place where they fall becomes the new altar. Do otherwise and you destroy the pattern we have created. The results could be disastrous.”

The vicar pondered for a moment, then said, “I don’t believe you. You’re outnumbered. It’s a closer’s bluff, to make things more awkward for me. Morris! MacCab! Put her back!”

The Count stepped forward as they advanced.

“In a case such as this,” he said, “the opposing parties are permitted to resist the desecration.”

I heard heavy, clumping footsteps in the distance, but they seemed to be passing the hill rather than approaching it.

Morris and MacCab had hesitated but then they moved forward, reaching for Lynette.

The Count flowed forward. No single limb seemed to stir, but suddenly he was there beside them. Then he raised his arms, out to the sides, his cloak dependent therefrom; and he moved them forward, completely engulfing the men within its folds. He stood thus for only an instant, arms across his chest, before a succession of snapping sounds could be heard.

He opened his arms and they fell to the earth, to lie at odd angles, blood emerging from their ears, noses, and mouths. Their eyes were wide. They did not breathe.

“You dare?” the vicar cried. “You dare to touch my people?”

The Count turned his head slowly, raising his arms again.

“You presume,” he said, “to address me so.”

He flowed toward the vicar, but much more slowly. The music came clearer and clearer, the chanting louder, the inscription brighter. And as he moved, I beheld a silent form in the shadows to my right, whose presence had first reached me in the form of his scent, which I recognized from an encounter in a wood by moonlight. He approached soundlessly, the stranger wolf.

The vicar’s hand snaked out from beneath his cloak, casting something toward the Count. Immediately, the flowing ceased and the Count stiffened. In the meantime, shielded from the vicar’s view by the Count’s body, the stranger wolf entered the firelight, took hold of Lynette’s shoulder and continued what Larry had begun, dragging her back into the darkness.

The Count was suddenly less than graceful. He swayed. He took an awkward step toward the vicar, whose hand dipped beneath his own cloak to emerge and repeat whatever he had done.

“What — is it?” the Count asked, reeling toward the vicar, who retreated before him. Then the Count fell.

“Dirt from one of your own caskets,” the vicar replied, “mixed with pieces of my church’s altar stone relic, left over from more papish times. Fingerbone of St. Hilarian, according to the records. You require your consecrated soil, but overconsecration is like the difference between a therapeutic and a debilitating dose of strychnine. Do you not agree?”

The Count muttered a reply in a foreign language, as the wolf disappeared with Lynette; and I realized that, from all his talks with Larry, plus his knowledge of drugs, and the samples he had obtained, he had succeeded several days ago in developing his own ideal dosage, and I had just witnessed the Great Detective’s greatest disguise yet. I howled a “Well done!” into the night. Later, a “Good luck!” came back to me.

The inscription glowed brilliantly now. Whether the deaths of Morris and MacCab had contributed to this was hard to tell. The vicar looked up and saw that Lynette was gone. He glared at Jill.

“You should have told me,” he said.

“I didn’t notice till now,” she replied.

“Neither did I,” said Nightwind.

The vicar picked up the sacrificial knife which he had dropped, moved back to his position, and drove the blade into the ground at his feet.

He straightened then, repeated the word of power, and said another. Immediately, his face became the snouted, tusked visage of a boar with a shredded ear. This lasted for perhaps a minute before Larry’s eyes opened. He turned his head, saw that Lynette was gone, looked immediately to the altar, saw she was not there either. He tried to rise, failed. I wondered how serious his condition was. True, there was a lot of blood, but head wounds are often that way. Even a silver bullet still has to hit something major.

Larry tried to crawl forward, succeeded in moving perhaps half a foot, paused, and panted.

The vicar spoke another word. Graymalk was suddenly striped like a small tiger. This, too, passed quickly. Tekela was starting to look like a vulture. Suddenly, Jill was an ancient hag, bent far forward, hooked nose almost touching her jutting chin, strands of white hair hanging about her face. I glanced at Jack and saw that he suddenly wore the shaggy head of a great brown bear, yellow eyes staring forward, saliva running from the corners of his mouth. Looking downward, I saw that my fur was blood-red and moist; and I felt as if horns jutted from my brow. I had no idea what I might resemble, but Graymalk drew back in alarm. The boar spoke again, and the word rang like a bell in the chill air. The Count was suddenly a skeleton wrapped in black. Something unseen  passed high overhead, laughing like a demented child. Pale mushrooms sprang up all about us, and a shifting of breezes brought me sulfurous scents from the fire. A green liquid flowed outward from that blaze, spreading in bubbling streams. The chanting now seemed to contain all of our names. MacCab had become a woman whose painted face began to peel off in long strips. Beside him, Morris was now an ape, his long hairy arms reaching to the ground, and he leaned to rest upon his knuckles. His mouth was opened wide, showing an enormous expanse of teeth and gums. Larry was now a bleeding man sprawled upon the ground. The air before us shimmered and became a mirror, giving this entire prospect back to us. Then our reflected heads detached themselves and drifted leftwards. It was a strange feeling, passing out of one and into another, for I seemed unmoved, though I felt the sudden weight of the bear-head, saw the hog’s drift by to settle upon Jack’s shoulders. Graymalk suddenly wore an overlarge one, horned, demonic; Jill, a small striped cat’s head — and so on along our crescent. Then the bodies shifted to the right, and I was a cat with a bear’s head, lying flat because of its weight, my heart thudding like a steam engine. Jack had become a boar-headed demon. Again, the laughter rang from overhead. If I were not my body or my head, what was I — sprawled there amid the mushrooms and the stench, another wave of chanting rolling in my ears? Illusion, it must all be illusion, mustn’t it? I never knew before and I still didn’t know. The mushrooms blackened, shriveled, and fell when the hot green flow reached them. Our images in the mirror wavered, became splashes of our dominant colors, flowed together. I looked downward again, but everything was hazy. Upward then, at some half-noted change. The moon had gone blood-red and was dripping upon us. A shooting star cut past it. Another. Another. Soon multitudes of them rained down the heavens. The mirror cracked, and Jack and I stood alone at our end, our forms returned to us, as a great gust of wind out of the north blew away the haze. The others came clear, also, restored, in their piece of reflection. The starfall lessened. The moon grew pink, then turned back to butter and ivory. I sighed and held my place, felt Graymalk’s gaze pass over me. The green tendrils from the fire began to congeal, lavalike. For a moment, I seemed to hear a collection of animal sounds from within the flames — baas, nickers, whinnies, whimpers, a sharp barking, several varieties of howling, the coughing of a giant cat, a croaking, a mewling cry. There followed a stillness, save for the fire’s own cracking and snapping.

I felt a familiar tingling in the air. The time had come for the opening. I glanced at Jack and could tell that he felt it, too.

Larry dragged himself another foot forward.

I was looking at the vicar as he spoke the final word. I saw the Count’s left hand twitch. But apparently the vicar did, too, and he stooped and raised the pentacle. Something dark fled forth from the Count’s ring, but the vicar caught it in the pentacle bowl and it was reflected off into the night. It was probably too late for killing the man, anyway, for the opening was definitely beginning. The vicar stooped again, raised the icon, and placed it upon the Count’s chest. The ring did not flare again. All in all, as I regarded both Larry and the Count, I was forced to a sort of grudging respect for the fellow. He was much better at his business than I’d have guessed.

“Jill,” he called out, “use the wand now.”

Jill reached inside her cloak, produced the wand, raised it. Oddly, the growing brightness of the stone halted for a moment. Jack had his wand out in an instant, raising it and training it upon the same target. I heard the heavy footsteps again, this time approaching us. The rectangle began to brighten once more, and a great depth occurred within it, swimming with colored lights. The cries from the banefire grew louder and louder: “Iä! Shub-Niggurath! Hail to the Black Goat!” The music also increased in intensity, and the moon blazed like a beacon overhead. Larry began dragging himself farther along. The experiment man came into view off to the right, heading toward us. I glanced at Jack. Beads of perspiration had formed upon his brow. I could tell that he was pouring his will and spirit into the wand, but the opening continued. The experiment man lumbered up to us.

“Pret-ty kit-ty,” he said, pausing in front of Jack, which might have killed anyone else, but he already smelled of death and seemed aware of nothing untoward.

Suddenly, the opening was arrested, the Gateway lost some of its depth. The experiment man stooped and quickly snatched up Graymalk.

“Pret-ty kit-ty,” he repeated. Then he turned and walked away in the direction whence he had come.

“Put me down!” she cried. “I can’t leave now!”

He sat down just beyond the firelight and commenced petting her.

Larry continued his crawl, steady now. Depth returned to the Gateway. I thought I saw a tentacle stir within it. Then something large and amorphous seemed to be drifting our way.

“This isn’t working well,” I heard a small voice say. I sought its source.

Bubo’s head had emerged from the left side pocket of Jack’s coat.

“Bubo, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I had to see it,” he said, “to learn whether what I’d done was right. I’m not too sure now.”

Yes, it was a tentacle, extended from the dark, approaching mass, reaching for the Gateway…

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m a pack rat,” he said. “I thought you were outnumbered and outgunned, and I wanted your side to win. So I did the only thing I know how — ”

“What?” I asked, already beginning to guess.

The dark mass was much nearer, and I smelled a deep reptilian musk. The experiment man had put down Graymalk and risen. He was approaching us again. Larry had moved much farther to my left. A tentacle emerged from the Gateway, groped about, located Morris’s right foot, wrapped about it, dragged him back inside. A moment later, it returned for MacCab. Slurping sounds followed.

“I fixed it so they’d defeat themselves after they’d disposed of you,” Bubo said.

“How?”

There were great masses of tentacles now, all of them writhing toward the Gateway.

“I sneaked about last night,” Bubo said, “and I switched the wands.”

I seemed to hear the odd sounds of a cat’s laughter. It’s so hard to tell when they’re smiling. The old cat hadn’t been telling me to fetch a stick…

Carpe baculum: Seize the wand.

I sprang into the air, catching it in my teeth, twisting it out of Jack’s grip. I could see the astonished expression on his face as I did so.

A terrible wind began to blow past us. I heard the vicar cry “No!” Tekela sprang up from his shoulders, wings beating.

Turning my head, I saw that the Gateway was closing.

There followed a roar Growler would have been proud of as Larry leaped at the vicar. They rolled upon the ground, passing right over the Count, knocking the icon from his breast. Then the mighty wind caught them and they were carried toward the closing Gateway and on through it. Jill looked puzzled as she continued to wield the closing wand, hair and cloak streaming forward. Jack had braced himself. Then his arm moved, hand dipping into the satchel and out, emerging quickly, casting the wine bottle of slitherers into the Gateway, to gunk it up. He grinned at me. “Any port in a storm,” he observed. I felt the wind pushing me forward. Nightwind was trying to get behind a rock.

Then the experiment man came up and halted before us and the pressure was suddenly eased.

“The — Count?” he asked. Had Graymalk sent him after our ally?

“The man on the ground!” I replied. “Take him away!”

He continued past us, swaying but holding his own against the wind. He stooped and caught hold of the supine figure, raised it in his arms. I glanced at the Gateway. It had already grown somewhat darker. The fire, scattered, flamed at a dozen small points, glowed from as many more. A few of these faded and winked out as I watched.

Jill stared at the wand that she held, and I could read the realization coming into her expression.

I heard Graymalk’s voice from the shadows:

“Come on!” she called. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

Bubo had already ducked back out of sight into Jack’s pocket as we moved to take her advice.

A single note, as of a crushed crystal goblet, filled the air. The stone was blank again. Abruptly, the wind ceased. The voices had already died away.

We made our way northward toward the slope. Overhead, the moon seemed enormous.

“Let’s go!” Graymalk urged, as we came up beside her. And she was right. The hilltop would remain dangerous till dawn.

I turned and looked back in time to see the experiment man start down the southern slope, carrying the Count.

“Hi, cat,” I said. “I’ll buy you that drink yet.”

“Hi, dog,” she said. “I think I’ll let you.”

Jack and Jill went down the hill. Gray and I ran after.

#10-31-20 #a night in the lonesome october #roger zelazny #full moon halloween #and so the day arrived #Jack and Jill went down the hill. Gray and I ran after. #I can't believe I've got through the entire month of entries! #Happy Halloween Everybody!

[wandereroftheuniverses-blog]

Wander Over Yonder The Name.

(Wander and Sylvia first met on a planet that was filled with snow and ice there hardly weren't any trees. Sylvia traveled along shivering to the bitter cold looking for a Shielder. When her eye caught on something sticking out of the snow. She approached it but carefully. She got a good look at it. A green hat was half buried in the deep thick snow Sylvia was just about to dig it out when alittle orange figure appeared from underneath the green hat this scared Sylvia to the point that she took a step back. Two pairs of cute little eyes look up at her in wonder to who she is. Sylvia watch as the cute orange furry little creature digs it self out of the snow.).

Wander: Hello.

(The little cute creature greeted Sylvia raise an eyebrow.)

Sylvia: Hello?

Wander: What's your name?

Sylvia: Sylvia.

Wander: Syl-via? Sylvia! What a good name.

Sylvia: and you are?

(Wander started to speak but stops. He looks down at the snow with along face.)

Sylvia: Well?

Wander: You gonna find this silly but I don't have a name.

(Sylvia shock. How could anyone be born on a planet with no name? Wander kept his head down looking at his foot that is slowly moving as a little kid would do if it has said or done anything wrong. Sylvia smiled.)

Sylvia: It's okay kid I don't find it silly or stupid for that matter. How about I give you a name.

(Wander looks up at Sylvia with a puzzled look.)

Wander: Really?

(Sylvia nods. Wander got so happy that not thinking giving her a hug.)

Wander: Thank you Sylvia!

(Sylvia stared in shock she never been hug before no body never really liked her she was tough and fearless and alot of aliens would avoid her. Which she never really had that much of a problem with that. She was use to it. She was about to pull away from his embrace when she felt herself getting warm from the soft orange fur. It felt good sense she was really cold to the point she could freeze to death but despite that she didn't want to reunion her reputation. She begin to pry from his grip.)

Sylvia: Okay, alright enough of that.

(Sylvia said but soon realized that Wanders hold wasn't letting up. Sylvia tried again to break free, but failed to do so. She looked on with a nervous chuckle.)

Sylvia: You can let go now kid.

(Sylvia tried and tried to get loose from the little orange furry creatures death grip but notices she's not getting anyway. She gave him a gentle Pat on his back.)

Silvia: Are you done yet?

(Sylvia frowned Wander let's go and gave her a nod.)

Sylvia: good.

(Sylvia begins to walk away as Wander follows close by hopping along in the deep snow.)

Sylvia: Coming up with a name can be difficult. You need something that suits you. Like Billy or Larry? Nah that doesn't really seem to fit your figure. I will think of something.

(Sylvia said now crossing 4 foot deep snow. Wander tried to keep up but couldn't he fell into the deep snow Sylvia saw this and turns to get him out.)

Sylvia: careful you can get lost in that.

Sylvia warned. Wander knew Sylvia was right. The snow is way too deep especially for a tiny creature such as himself to travel through. He looks at Sylvia's back and had a idea. He started to climb up there. But Sylvia refuses. And knocks him off.)

Sylvia: Hey, hey, hey! What do you think your doing?!

(Sylvia snapped.)

Wander: Sorry I should've ask before surprising you like that. Can I ride on your back?

Sylvia: No.

Wander: Please?

Sylvia: No! Listen here I'm not no bodies push over. You mess with me much, things might get ugly. You got two good legs use them!

(Sylvia snorts as she continues to walk wander stared for awhile and got back to following her but having a hard time doing so. Sylvia notices his struggles and let's out a grumble. He finally let Wander to Hich a ride on her back. After along travel they come across a icy cave.)

Sylvia: whoa would you look at that a cave made of pure ice.

Wander: It's beautiful. Let's check it out.

Sylvia: Are you nuts. Going into that cave can be dangerous. Who knows it might be unstable. You can't just go head on into something without giving it a thought. Do you understand what I'm saying kid? Kid?

(She looks on her back he's not there she looks at the care entrance and saw Wander running inside.)

Sylvia: Kid?!

( Sylvia become afaird for the little guys well being and chases after him in hot pursuit. Wanders eyes sparkle with a huge grin form on his face. Sylvia was very angry for Wander putting himself in harm's way.)

Sylvia: Did you even listen to a word I said?! This cave can be dangerous. You can get hurt or possibly die! It's not safe here! We're leaving right this minute. Did you hear me I said-?! What are you staring at?!

(Sylvia yelled in a glare not in the mood for nonsense. She looks up and saw the light shining on the ice it made it look like glass. Sylvia angry glare quickly fading as she saw such a sight.)

Wander: Look Sylvia have you seen anything quite like it?

Sylvia: I guess not.

(Sylvia smiled. Wander looks at his reflection in the ice and starts being alittle silly. Sylvia let's out a giggle. But quickly stops trying not to become a softy.)

Wander: Do you know this stranger? Why yes I do. His quite the gentleman if I do say so myself. That you are my good man that you are.

(Wander talking to his reflection made Sylvia rolled her eyes.)

Sylvia: Talking to yourself huh?

Wander: no can you see this guy here?

Sylvia: that's you.

Wander: No that's Jerry, Jerry McPocket. His a millionaire.

Sylvia: Oh really?

Jerry McPocket Wander: A millionaire indeed. But happiness can't be filled with just money true happiness comes from the heart. Treasure it.

Wander: I agree.

Sylvia: O-kay. This is weird. Come on kid let's go.

(Sylvia said trying to get Wander to go but notices him wondering off.)

Sylvia: Hey!

(Sylvia runs after him as they go deeper into the cave Sylvia couldn't help but to have a feeling like something or someone is watching them.)

Wander: Cool mushrooms!

Sylvia: Mushrooms?

(Wander and Sylvia looked at the dark blue frozen mushrooms that looks covered in glitter. Wander got his camera out of his hat and took a snapshot of them. Sylvia attention drew quickly to a giant shadow that moved behind them.)

Wander: One more pic for the left side.

Sylvia: well this has been swell but I think we should you know leave.

Wander: What's the hurry? We got all the time in the world to explore. *Gasps* say I wonder how far we can go? Or if it has another entrance. Let's find out!

Sylvia: No!

(Sylvia yells but too late Wander dashes clear out of sight Sylvia begins to get irritated. Further in the cave Wander found some bug like creatures with fur crawling on walls of ice. He also found a boot, a map, and some treasure chest filled with 200 year old chocolate candy. Wander taste some of it which surprisingly not all that bad. Sylvia Steps in front of Wander to get his full attention.)

Sylvia: Listen buddy I know your young and full of life and all that good stuff but I'm telling you we really should-?!

Wander: Ssssshhhhh... Look.

(Wander said in a whisper pointing at some wild mouth face Bats that's hanging upside down sleeping Wander got closer to get a picture of them in hopes not to wake them. Sylvia crossed her arms and grumbles under her breath about Wander not listening. Not aware that this thing creep up behind her. Until she heard a click clack of its claws. She slowly but nervously turns around and saw a huge Scorpion like monster. It used it's tail to sting Sylvia but luckily she moved out of the way just in time. She begins to fight the creature off. Far as Wander goes his to busy trying to get the perfect photo of the sleeping mouth bats.)

Wander: Easy dose it. Careful. And... Gotcha!

(Wander press the camera button it made a huge flash that scared the mouth bats awoke it scared them so badly that they started to scattered everywhere. The scorpion monster pins Sylvia to the floor getting ready to sting her again when these bats got in its face the scorpion let's out a horrible yell as it tries to swop the bats away. Wander gazed at the creature in amazement.)

Wander: Wow look at you all big and strong. Say can I get a picture of you?

(Wander asks the scorpion monster roars.)

Wander: Okay.

(Wander took its picture it lets out a high pitch squeal and runs off.)

Wander: That's a keeper. Thanks for letting me take your picture!

(Wander yelled waving goodbye at the monster. Sylvia lays there in disbelief that someone as small as Wander save her from a creature as big and scary as that thing. She raise up and stared at Wander in amazement.)

Sylvia: Y-you save my life.

Wander: Hm? Oh I did? I just thought that Scorpion was just playing with you. But anyhow I think I see an exit.

(Sylvia looks at the light at the end of the cave. And smiled gratefully.)

Sylvia: Come on pal! Let's get out if here!

(Sylvia grabs Wander and puts him on her back and goes at the speed of light until they was out.)

Wander: That's so cool! I didn't know you could run that fast.

Sylvia: Pfft! That's nothing.

(Sylvia boasted she looks at him that's grinning all big)

Sylvia: Why are you looking at me like that.

Wander: You called me pal.

Sylvia: What?! No what got you think think I said that?

(Sylvia Blushed)

Wander: I also recall you calling me buddy when we was in the cave.

Sylvia: I don't know what your talking about? We're not friends I'm only looking out for you until I know your back to which home you came from. Don't you ever say were friends ever again got that?!

(Wander nods.)

Sylvia: One last thing. Get off my back.

(She use her tail to gentle move Wander off her back and sat him on the ground. Wander smiled knowing that deep down that their friendship was growing. After what felt like hours of walking it started to get dark and the blizzard storm began to blow in. Sylvia was becoming so cold that her body was starting to have frost grow here and there. Wander who is covered in fur isn't really all that effected from the cold. Saw that Sylvia needed warmth. He walks up to her with a nice warm hug. Sylvia growls as she pushes him away.)

Sylvia: D-d-dont d-do that!

Wander: Sorry you just looked cold and I wanted to warm you up.

Sylvia: I don't need your support I can handle myself!

Sylvia snapped as she force of what amount of energy she had left. The wind blew hard with each breath felt like knifes inside and out. She couldn't go another step she was too cold and exhausted from the travel she fell dead stop right in front of Wander. This concerned Wander to the point that he had to do something and the one thing she didn't want he done. And that was a hug. Sylvia would normal try to shave him off and yell at him but don't have enough strength to do so. She allowed him. The warmth of his little furry body begin to warm her up some. That she felt more relaxed from the harsh weather. She begin to fall asleep. The next day the blizzard has ended and the shine has just raising Sylvia awoke to the light beaming in her face. She stretches with a yawn as she smiled she looks at her back and saw Wander sound asleep on her back. She never took a thought but, why did he do those nice things for her. All she done was snapped at him and act all grumpy. She felt bad for her actions she never meant to be awful to the little guy. All she wanted was to be all tough and respected in the eyes of others. But she's coming to realize that maybe she was doing it all wrong. She got into more thought but snapped out of them when she notice that Wander is waking up.)

Wander: Yawns morning Sylvia how are you?

Sylvia: better. Look thanks for warming me and all but now I don't need you to do that anymore okay. I've got rules. Rule number one: Do not hug me. Rule number two: do not ride on my back I hate that. Rule number three: don't wonder off if your gonna to stick with me you will not leave my sight is that clear.

Wander: Yes I will do my best to obey your rules.

Sylvia: Good to know. Let's continue our walk. If we're lucky we'll find a-?!

Wander: A near by town!

Sylvia: great now all I do is take you around and see if anyone knows. Piece of cake.

(Sylvia said running to town with Wander behind her. They look around asking if anyone seen him everyone said no. Sylvia begin to lose hope.)

Wander: Don't worry Sylvia things are about to get better you'll see.

Sylvia: very doubtful kid. No one seems to know who or what you are? Maybe this isn't a place you come form.

Wander: Well truth to be told I never came from this planet.

Sylvia: You not.

Wander: Nope. You see I came from another planet with nothing but giant veggies, beautiful flower beds and little streams that constantly flows.

Sylvia: why didn't you tell me. You was from another planet?! Ugh! I can't believe all that searching and that scary experience with the scorpion monster and for what?! Just to find out this whole time wasted on searching a home that never even existed! UUUUuuggggghhhhh!!! I just want to-?! Screams.

(Sylvia out burst course afew of the town's forks to run in fright. she lets out one more "Ugh" before falling over on her back staring into the sky.)

Wander: Time hasn't been all that wasted. At least I got to spend time with you and see all that this planet has to offer. I mean think about it. We had fun together right.

Sylvia: sighs I guess. But how did you get on this planet anyhow?

Wander: Funny you should. I was playing in the fields one day when I come across these cute little eye ball men wearing cute little outfits with pointy hats they chanted a name. "Hater Rules." Repeatedly.

Sylvia: Don't tell me you went up to them?

Wander: yeah I greet all visitors that comes to my home planet.

Sylvia: do you know who Hater? Is his a villain that wants to conquer the whole galaxy. His evil!

Wander: Evil? Well thats alittle harsh if you ask me. I like to think of him as a someone that is just looking for a friend.

Sylvia: Hater is no one's friend all he thinks about is himself! It isn't any wonder you got caught he probably kidnap you and dump you here to freeze to death.

Wander: I find that had to believe. Although that room he put me in could be alittle more comfortable. And perhaps afew decorations. That will be great. Remind me to tell me when we run into him again.

Sylvia: No danger I say his far to busy conquering other planets to be trying to take over this frozen wasteland.

(As soon as Sylvia has said that Haters ship came rolling in. All the WatchDogs came out to take over the town.)

Peepers: All you Worthless no good doers will fear the wrath of Hater!

Hater appears as he slowly makes his way through town.

Sylvia: Oh goody.

Wander: Hater it's so nice to see you again buddy! Have you been.

Hater: Wha-?! You! Your alive?! I thought you will kill over by 45 hours leaving you here on this cold planet.

Sylvia: Ha that told you.

Wander: Actually Hater you done something nice for me. Leaving me here.

Hater: What.

Wander: Yeah if you didn't I would not have met Sylvia and get to do these wonderful thing with her. So I thank you. Thank you to the bottom of my heart.

(Wander hugs Hater. Hater gave an Ugh and push him away.)

Hater: Get off me! Your goody good attitude is about to be crush by my power of destruction!

Wander: Aw Hater I'm touch all this just to get me. Hold on sniff I've got something in my eye.

(Wander said as he wipe away the tear from his eye.)

Hater: Enough say goodbye!

(Hater shouted as he tries to zapped him with his powers but Sylvia came to the rescue and got Wander out of the way before he could be zapped to ashes.)

Hater: Get them!

(Hater ordered as the WatchDogs chase them. Sylvia and Wander hid under a bridge in hopes the WatchDogs pass by the without noticing.)

Wander: His such a cuddly little Toddy bear is he not.

Sylvia: Yeah of course he is.

(Sylvia looks around to see if the coast is clear before making a run for it.)

Sylvia: We got to flee as far away from this place as possible. So whatever you do stick by me no matter what-?!

(She looks to where wonder sitting but his gone she looks up from her spot and saw him running up to a WatchDog who hurt his knee.)

Sylvia: No, no, no, no! Come back here!

Sylvia yelled as she went after him

WatchDog: Ow it hurts. I can't take it!

Wander: It's alright. Everyone stand back I got to under contorl.

Wander pulls put his aid kit and begins to fix the WatchDogs leg one fix the WatchDogs felt better.

Wander: there all better.

WatchDog: Ah thank you. Now come with us!

(The WatchDog said as he took them to prison cell and lock them up.)

Sylvia: Do you think these cells are gonna hold me?! Ugh! Think again! Ugh!

(Sylvia tried as hard as she could but the cell would not open. She got out of breath and sit on the floor trying to get the rested up so she could try again.)

Wander: the last time I was here the cells look more dark and grimy but I think they made some improvements they look alittle more brighter then they did before.

Sylvia: Well you can just stand there and be all positive if you want but I'm gonna stick to what I do best! And that's to break out and kick some tail!

(Sylvia said trying her hand at breaking open the cell again. Then she saw Hater come up to them.)

Hater: So now your probably wondering what I'm gonna do to you. You just gonna have to find out now won't you.

(Hater said as he took them to a room full of weapons. That he could use to rid them.)

Wander: So this is where you keep all your toys nice collection.

Hater: These ain't toys these are weapons used for meny destructions. Who should I get rid of first. Who am I kidding it would be you of course! The little orange weirdo who drove me crazy with him all so lovely all sugar coated donuts with sprinkles on top yuck! You sicking me and so dose the rest of your kind!

Wander: Aw love you too.

Hater: I'm gonna enjoy this moment of slowly letting you suffer.

(Hater pulls out the big blaster and aims it at Wander. Sylvia thinks fast and knocks out the two WatchDogs and grabs Wander and makes a run for it. Hater chases them and commands his WatchDog army to stand in their way. Sylvia ran until she ran into a dead end.)

Sylvia: Oh boy.

Hater: End of the line for you. Any last words?

Wander: Yes before I become dust. One last hug!

Wander shouted as he dashes up to him.

Sylvia tries to grab him but missed Wander ran up to Hater and jump for the hug And that's when Hater fire his weapon everything blew up in smoke. Once smoke cleared Sylvia stared into a figure laying in the floor. Sylvia's heart dropped.)

Sylvia: Kid NNNNNNOOOOO!!!!

(Sylvia yelled running up to Wander. And slowly picked him up she looked at his face and saw that he was not moving or breathing she cried out in flowing tears. As she hugs him.)

Hater: I did it! Yes I got rid of him!

(Hater jumped in joy.)

Sylvia: cries why?! He never bother no one. He was just alittle kid a poor helpless kid! Continues crying. I was gonna name him and everything. Oh my goodness I hate myself right now stupid me why did I have to be so hard on him! Oh kid I so sorry I'm sorry for everything. Your my friend the only friend I ever had. I love you so much. But now your gone and there's no way of bringing your back. Oh what I weren't give to hear his sweet voice one last time. Cries out loud.

(Sylvia cried as she hugs him tight. Then she heard a soft voice whispering to her.)

Wander: I love you too Sylvia.

(Sylvia eyes widen as she looked at Wanders face that's glazing back at her. Sylvia's heart ringed with happiness.she hugged Wander with a tight squeeze as more tears flow.)

Sylvia: Kid! Your alive! Oh thank goodness! I was so scared I thought I lost you for good.

(Sylvia cried. Wander hugged her back)

Wander: You haven't.

(Wander said with a smile.)

Hater: Your alive yet again?! No matter I will still get rid of you.

Sylvia: Just try it!

(Sylvia yelled holding Wander close to her. To protect him.)

Wander: Hater I hope your gun thingy is working properly now.

Hater: What do you mean properly.

Wander: Well before I came to give my farewell goodbye hug I couldn't help but to notice that your weapon had a really big hole at the bottom of it so I decided to do you a favor and patch it up.

Hater: Wwwwhhhaaattt?!?!!

(Hater saw the red light flashing on the gun as it gave off a self destruct count down. Hater throws Sylvia and Wander out of his ship along with his blaster.)

Hater: Forget this planet I'm out of here!

(Hater yelled flying away in his ship along with the WatchDogs. The count down continues counting. All the town's folk begin to scream and panic.)

Sylvia: What do we do this things about to blow at any second!

(Wander git to thinking and a idea pop up. He grabs some bubble transporter out of his hat and sends the blaster into space which course it to blow up saving them and the town's folks. Everyone cheered happily)

Sylvia: You did it. You did it buddy! Why to go!

(Sylvia cheered as she picked up Wander and held him up high. Everyone continues cheering. Later on at sun sit. Sylvia and Wander is walking out of town waving goodbye at the town's folks.)

Sylvia: What a day we travel along way ran into unexpected surprises and now we stop Hater and his pear of WatchDogs from taking over the town.

Wander: Yeah but the best out of it all I got to do it with you.

Sylvia: Aw sniffs stop your gonna turn me all softy. Come here you.

(Sylvia said as she hugs him.)

Silvia: You know I think I finally found a name that fits you.

Wander: What's that?

Sylvia: sense you like to wondering place to place I thought about calling you. Wander.

Wander: Wander? I love it!

(Wander said happily Sylvia use her tail and sits Wander on her back. Wanders face lit up just the thoughts of Sylvia letting Wander ride her back made him feel happy.)

Wander: Let's go to other planets and explore!

Sylvia: Sounds good to me. I'm in.

(So Sylvia and Wander travel across the galaxy exploring and learning new things And stoping Hater from conquering them. Both him and Sylvia bond grew close to the point that they our like family. Then friends. You will be surprised what alittle love and kindness can do.)

The End

#my fanfiction

[go-redgirl]

Trump Extends Social-Distancing Guidelines to April 30, 2020

WASHINGTON (AP) — Siding with public health experts’ dire projections, President Donald Trump on Monday defended his decision to extend restrictive social distancing guidelines through the end of April, while bracing the nation for a coronavirus death toll that could exceed 100,000 people. “The worst that could happen is you do it too early and all of a sudden it comes back,” Trump said during a nearly hour-long call-in interview with “Fox & Friends” as members of his coronavirus task force fanned out across other media outlets to warn the virus’ spread was only just beginning. The comments came a day after Trump made a dramatic course reversal and announced that he would not be moving to ease the guidelines and get the economy back up and running by Easter, as he said last week he hoped to do.

In the face of stark projections from his team and searing images of overwhelmed hospitals in his native New York City, Trump instead extended to April 30 the social distancing guidelines, which had been set to expire Monday. Many states and local governments already have stiffer controls in place on mobility and gatherings.

Trump’s impulse to reopen the country, driven by pleas from business leaders, met a sober reality check from health experts, including Dr. Anthony Fauci, the government’s top infectious disease expert, who on Sunday said the U.S. could experience between 100,000-200,000 deaths and millions of infections from the pandemic.

That warning hardened a recognition in Washington that the struggle against the coronavirus will not be resolved quickly even as Trump expressed a longing for normalcy.

“It would not have been a good idea to pull back at a time when you really need to be pressing your foot on the pedal as opposed to on the brakes,” Fauci said on CNN on Monday, describing how he and Dr. Deborah Birx, the coronavirus task force coordinator, had convinced Trump to reconsider.

“We showed him the data. He looked at the data. He got it right away,” Fauci said. “It was a pretty clear picture. Dr. Debbie Birx and I went in to the Oval Office and leaned over the desk and said, ‘Here are the data. Take a look.’ He just shook his head and said, ‘I guess we got to do it.’”

Americans are now being asked to prepare for at least another 30 days of severe economic and social disruption, with schools and businesses closed and public life upended. One in 3 Americans remain under state or local government orders to stay at home to slow the spread of the virus, and employment claims have already skyrocketed.

Trump also spoke with the nation’s governors on Monday, as did other members of his administration. Birx told the governors that it’s “several weeks away from the peak of the curve for the United States.” Trump said that modeling projected substantially more deaths if the nation did not incorporate social distancing.

“I thought that was a very important study they did and it sure solved a lot of problems in my own mind and maybe in your minds,” Trump said in an audio that was obtained by The Associated Press.

Republican Gov. Larry Hogan of Maryland voiced appreciation for the $2.2 trillion economic stimulus bill that Trump signed into law last week and the president’s acknowledgement that states will need more help, but he also emphasized that governors are “still frustrated” about a scarcity of medical supplies.

The federal guidelines that Trump elected to continue recommend against group gatherings larger than 10 and urge older people and anyone with existing health problems to stay home. People are urged to work at home when possible and avoid restaurants, bars, nonessential travel and shopping trips.

Reflecting the extended restrictions, congressional officials on Monday said curbs on visitors to the U.S. Capitol would last an additional month, through April. All tours in the Capitol Visitor Center are halted and only lawmakers, aides, credentialed visitors and journalists will be allowed in the Capitol and congressional office buildings.

For more than a week, Trump had been bombarded by calls from outside business leaders who urged him to begin reopening the nation’s economy, at least in places with low infection rates, and warned of catastrophic consequences that could damage his reelection chances if it remained shuttered for much longer.

Trump told “Fox & Friends” that “nobody” was “more worried” about the economic impact on the country than he was. But he said, “We want to do something where we have the least death.”

Trump, who has largely avoided talk of potential death and infection rates, cited projection models Sunday that said 2.2 million people or more could have died had social distancing measures not been put in place. And he said the country would be doing well if it “can hold” the number of deaths “down to 100,000.”

In addition to the numbers, Trump said he was moved by harrowing scenes from New York, particularly hard-hit Elmhurst Hospital in his native Queens. He described the images he’d seen on television with “body bags all over, in hallways. I’ve been watching them bring in trailer trucks — freezer trucks... because they can’t handle the bodies, there are so many of them.... I’ve seen things that I’ve never seen before.”

But experts warn that those scenes could play out across the country, as the virus spreads. Birx and Fauci said even areas that have so far been spared must prepare for the eventuality that they, too, will become hot spots, with undetected cases likely in existence now.

“It’s critical that even if you don’t see it, it could be circulating in your community,” Birx told “CBS This Morning” on Monday.

Fauci said on ABC’s “Good Morning America” that smaller U.S. cities are now ripe for the kind of acceleration that has occurred in New York.

“If you look throughout the country there are a number of smaller cities that are sort of percolating along,” Fauci said. “It looks like it’s low level, it starts to accelerate, then it goes way up.”

The U.S. had more than 140,000 COVID-19 cases reported by Monday morning, with more than 2,500 deaths, according to data compiled by Johns Hopkins.

Most people who contract COVID-19 have mild or moderate symptoms, which can include fever and cough but also milder cases of pneumonia, sometimes requiring hospitalization. The risk of death is greater for older adults and people with other health problems. Hospitals in the most afflicted areas are straining to handle patients and some are short of critical supplies.

In the “Fox & Friends” interview, Trump also said his administration was considering providing hazard pay for medical professionals who are on the front lines of the pandemic. Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin agreed, telling Fox Business Network in a separate interview that the idea “makes a lot of sense” and is “definitely something we’ll put in the next bill.” Some lawmakers have said a fourth economic relief package eventually will be needed.

For weeks, Trump had minimized the gravity of the pandemic, and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi on Sunday accused Trump of “denial” in the crisis and called it “deadly.”

Asked whether she believes that attitude cost American lives, Pelosi told CNN: “Yes, I am. I’m saying that.”

Trump lashed back on Fox Monday morning.

“She’s a sick puppy in my opinion,” Trump said. “I think it’s a disgrace to her country, her family”

__ Associated Press writers Alan Suderman in Richmond, Virginia, and Darlene Superville contributed to this report.

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2018

It’s here you guys!!!

I did this list for 2016 and this list for 2017 and you guys have been so lovely!

I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is larry. I like making lists and I like larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2018 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) knock knock, i love you by @thelovejandles

“Well,” Louis says, searching for something to relieve this tension. “I think if a bloke gets kicked out of his stats exam for a knock knock joke, he deserves to hear the punchline, yeah?”

“Oh!” Harry says, beaming. “I forgot where we left off, what was it again?” He looks overjoyed to be exchanging a shit joke.

“Ah, you said knock knock, then I said who’s there, and then you said Noah,” Louis supplies helpfully. He hates that he's actually curious about the rest of the joke. “So, Noah who?”

“Oh,” says Harry, in a much different tone, dragging out the syllable. He looks bashful now. Louis cannot keep up with this boy, it's going to kill him. “Right, well.” He shuffles his feet. Fuck, what kind of knock knock joke gets a boy nervous? “Noah a good place we could get something to eat?”

[Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.]

24.) Let Me Be Your Star by @chloehl10

Harry Styles has always been a singer, but he’s never had much confidence in himself. When his idol is brought on as the new judge on The X-Factor, he figures, what the hell? He’d get to sing and meet his idol. What could go wrong?

~

Louis Tomlinson has always wanted to mentor young musicians. When he’s asked to be a judge on The X-Factor, it’s a dream come true, everything he ever wanted. What he didn’t expect was to meet a curly-headed stranger that would turn his life upside down

23.) The Compulsion to Find Love by @toomanylarrytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

22.) Pursuit by DirtyLarryStylinson

Some people may deceive you by acting pleasant and friendly to begin with, but their demeanour can sometimes take a sinister turn when obsession kicks in.

Louis Tomlinson is seventeen years old and carefree. He has close friends and family, a stable education and a pretty good life overall, so what could go wrong?

Well, a lot. Especially when you've attracted the interest of Harry Styles, who hides a staggeringly frightening secret.

21.) ROUGE by lourryalrightee

Submissive Louis Tomlinson is a misjudged criminal who is accused of beating his own Dominant until unconciousness. But the truth is not like that. In fact, Louis has been a victim of severe abuse by his Dom, he only fought back to defend his own life. One could imagine how many times the Dom has raped the Sub, how many scars from canes and whips are there to litter across his body, how many times his flesh has been split open, how many nightmares he has endured that leaves him lose all hope in life.

Sent to the BDSM prison for "behavioural correction", Louis meets the warden there, Dominant Harry Styles. Dominant above all Dominants, Harry is cold and harsh on the outside, but secretly a lonely man in the inside.

Louis supposes he could find his solace here in prison, a time for his scars to heal, both physical and mental ones. But what if Harry starts befriending the Sub, seeing through all the false accusations? What if Harry wants to seek justice? Does Louis even want his name cleared anyways? But the most important question is,

Will Harry be able to give Louis the love he deserves?

If only Louis could tell him the truth.

20.) Now In A Minute by @avocadolouie

13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for Louis it actually was.

More than anything in the world, Louis Tomlinson dreams of growing up. Simply skipping over all of the awkward, embarrassing years of teenage existence and getting on with life. Real life.

So when thirteen-year-old Louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected everything in his adult life to be picture perfect. And maybe it is. He has it all…or so it seems.

Except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, Harry Styles, is totally missing from the equation and Louis doesn’t understand why. He has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, Louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feels so empty.

Or the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.

19.) Wild Love by purpledaisy

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

18.) Take Our Bodies Higher by @littlelouishiccups

Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that.

In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

17.) You Got That Somethin’ by @styleandsin

“How are you? Having a good time? Got a couple of beers in? What are those?” Louis hears him ask in quick succession, the loudness of the microphone making him jump even though the screams around him have yet to cease.

“It’s vodka,” Louis says, slightly unsure.

“Vodka! Oh, straight?” Harry asks, louder this time and with a growing smile.

Phoebe and Daisy have turned around to face him, huge smiles on their faces.

Fuck, this man is really going to be the death of Louis. He can physically feel his brain struggling to make his body cooperate and answer the question. He is so gay.

“No, gay!” He shouts, immediately getting an elbow to the side by his sister.

Or, the one where Louis attends a Harry Styles concert and makes an absolute fool of himself.

16.) The Road Less Travelled By by @freetheankles

Louis was a lumberjack happy to be living his life alone in what could qualify as Middle Of Nowhere, Canada.

Every morning, he went out into the woods, cut his logs, then came home at dusk to a scalding hot shower and a good book by the fireplace. Rinse and Repeat. He had a good life, quiet and peaceful; simple. Not a secluded one as Niall annoyingly claimed.

Louis certainly didn't need some chatty trespasser dropping into his life, his forest, his home. Invading his space, his circle of friends, touching his stuff, asking questions about his husband. His late husband.

A trespasser who wasn’t supposed to crawl under his skin, occupy his thoughts, and steal his heart from where Louis had locked it safely away, only to put it right back on Louis’ sleeve — where it once laid.

No, Louis definitely didn’t need Harry.

15.) Dirty secret by iilarryii

"Dad, you can't go!" Louis yells to his father as he watches him pull out his sword.

"Louis, you know that I have to. It's the pack leaders orders," Dan says calmly. "I need you to promise me that you'll take care of the family if I die."

"So what? You'll just give up?"

"Of course not. I am just willing to die for my family's safety."

"So am I."

The Zoely pack is attacked by rogue alphas and the pack leader orders all alphas over the age of eighteen to protect their pack. Dan Deakin is one of the strongest alphas in the pack, but there is one problem. He has a wife and six kids to feed and look after. Louis is the oldest child and the one who wants to protect their family.

Or a Mulan AU where Louis is an omega who takes his father's place in the war.

14.) Breathe Me by eternalxrry

Omega Louis thinks he's worthless, after being told thousands of times a day, he finally starts to believe the bullies. But no one is there to protect him, until Harry and his pack move to Louis' hometown. Will Harry protect Louis? Or is it all too good to be true.

13.) The Second Hand Unwinds by @fullonlarrie

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

12.) won’t you wear my watermark by @bottomlinsons

The new Earl of Harrisson is a young man, an impulsive romantic, forced to shoulder too much responsibility far too soon. He is also Louis’ soulmate, but there’s nothing to be done about that. At least, as far as Louis is concerned.

The Earl, it seems, will take some convincing.

(A slow burn Regency AU featuring secrets, seduction and, our favourite, soulmarks.)

11.) That’s How I Know by @allwaswell16

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

10.) I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) by @allwaswell16

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

9.) Have Faith In Me by stylinsoncity 

As the son of Anne Styles, millionaire owner of one of the world's most luxurious fashion labels, Harry has spent his last seventeen years living in carefree extravagance. And now he's grown tired of it, along with the pressure from his mum to follow in her footsteps and the constant care given to him by her past assistants.

When his mum's newest assistant, Louis, moves into the guesthouse, Harry determines to be treated differently. To be treated like an adult. Except Louis is not at all what Harry was expecting...

This is a story about growing up, growing in love and having the faith to make it last.

8.) falling into you by stylinsoncity

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

7.) Blue Ice by @larriegal

"Don't ever try to get near me! I don't wanna see you." Harry had slurred in his face looking him in the eye.

"I-I don't understand..." Louis managed to say his voice low, pushing a little from the wall holding his left arm with his right hand.

"What don't you understand? I. DON'T. WANT. YOU!" Harry said again pointing at him, while making his way to the living room, Louis following him in horror.

"Why are you being like this?" Louis managed to get out, though he felt like being ripped to pieces.

"You really thought I love you?! You must be really fucking stupid! Who could even love you?"

•

An AU where Louis finds himself in a marriage he didn't bargain for.

6.) If Anyone Knew by @marastarfar

Harry’s a young alpha who’s strangely gentle. Louis’ an omega who’s strangely protective. Being the only ones in the band who aren’t betas they automatically empathise with each other and decide that it’s their job to look after each other.

Or Harry and Louis through the early One Direction years in an a/b/o universe.

5.) Worth Dying For by whoknows

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

4.) Fucking Animals by @pointerbrotherblog

“Just, off the record,” she says, voice lower, eyes sharper, crook of her mouth quirking up a little, “don’t you ever miss it? A good knot? You must.”

Louis blinks and then swallows, thickly. “No,” he exclaims, offended that she’d even ask, “I love my husband. And anyway, how could I miss something I’ve never had?”

---

Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don't necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she's just settling for less, is bullshit.

But, fucking hell.

3.) the impossible now by stylinsoncity

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

2.) Where You Lay by @ham-palpert

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

1.) For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December) by @greenfeelings

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

#larry stylinson #larry #larry fic rec #one direction #harry styles #louis tomlinson #1d #larry is real #larry fic #larry fanfiction #fic rec #fanfiction

[catfishandthebottlefan]

#9.2 - Touring - Part 2 - The Flight

A/N - I was up till midnight writing this 😂 Part 2 of my first chaptered fic! I hope you enjoy! ~ A x

Van slaps your arse cheekily as you walk up the aisle of the plane on your way to your seat. You’ll get him back for that later. 

Following a seemingly confident Bondy, you and the lads reach your seats towards the middle of the plane - row 32. The six of you take up the whole row, making room for the split down the aisle, thus you don’t bother checking your boarding passes as it wouldn’t matter who sat in what seat anyway. You end up sandwiched between Bondy - who sits at the window - and Van, who sits on the aisle. Across the aisle sits Larry, then Benji, and Bob by the window. You knew Bob would like being by the window - like you, he was a natural dreamer. Larry and Van seem happy enough to be next to eachother as they pull faces and try to hold hands across the aisle as everyone else attempts to board the flight.

“Excuse me.” You hear the voice of an air stewardess.

You look up to see her stood next to an unhappy-looking family.

“Y’alright, love?” Van says, cheerily.

“You appear to be in the wrong seats.” the air stewardess snaps.

“No, love, we’re definitely row 33.” Van says confidently.

“Yes, and this is row 32.” she replies curtly, “So if you wouldn’t mind moving so that everyone else can board-”

“Bondy, you idiot.” you hiss, standing up.

Bondy simply shrugs, “Must’ve read the row number wrong.”

You all move back a row, awkwardly shuffling your hand luggage back into the same seats.

“Bondy, you’re a fucking retard.” Van mutters.

“Oy, who put me in charge of flight navigation?” Bondy retaliates.

“You were at the front!” Larry chimes in, Van nodding in approval.

Bob simply laughs, red with embarrassment at having to move. Benji tries to keep the peace.

“To be fair, we all should’ve checked-”

Larry elbows him sharply. “Yeah, but it’s more fun to blame Bondy.”

You lean against Van’s shoulder as everyone settles down into their seats. You hear a faint murmur of music playing through his headphones.

“You ok, baby?” he asks, reaching for your hand.

“Yeah,” you reply, “What’re you listening to?”

He removes a headphone and places it in your ear.

I think you are really fit You're fit, but my gosh, don't you know it?

“The Streets,” you laugh, “Never would’ve guessed.”

“That song’s about you, y’know.” Van teases.

“Thanks a lot, mate.” you reply, sarcastically.

“It’s a compliment!” he says, his voice going an octave higher, as it always does when he knows he’s tried his luck.

“Well, thank you.” you reply, with mock sincerity, giggling.

Larry slaps Van’s knee from across the aisle. “Shut up, it’s the safety display. Some of us don’t want to drown when the plane crashes.”

“When!?” Bob laughs.

Van pulls a face at Larry, and closes his eyes, tuning himself into his music. You look to your left to see Bondy scrolling through his phone. He closed-mouth smiles at you when you make eye contact. You, Larry and Benji seemed to be the only ones listening to the safety demonstration, with Van and Bondy actively choosing not to listen and Bob clearly somewhere else as he looks out of the window. 

You close your eyes and rest your head back on Van’s shoulder, half-listening to his music from the outside of his headphone. You drift off into a half-awake, half-asleep state as you attempt to align your breathing with your boyfriend’s. You always try to do this when you lie beside Van, and usually end up struggling for breath, but the steady rise and fall of his chest this morning puts you into pure relaxation. You grip his hand tightly as the plane taxis and takes off, then drift into a sleep.

--

You wake up to Bondy and Van laughing on either side of you. You slowly open your eyes.

“Don’t move!” Larry warns. 

You open your eyes to see a the contents of Van and Bondy’s hand luggage balanced on various parts of your body. A £20 note on each forearm, a driving license on each thigh, a passport on your head and another on one shoulder. On the other shoulder, a deck of playing cards bound tightly with a rubber band rested. However, the condoms on each nipple amused you the most.

“Who’s are these!” you laugh hysterically, pointing at your boobs.

“One each.” Bondy affirms, “One from each wallet.”

“Wow, you two are disgusting.” Benji remarks.

“Don’t be silly-” Larry erupts into peals of laughter, “Don’t be silly- Don’t be silly-”

“Spit it out, mate!” Van says, also laughing.

“Don’t be silly,” Larry repeats, still laughing, “Wrap your willy!”

Even Bob loses his shit, and the whole group of you explode into hysterics. So much so that the same narky air hostess has to come over.

“Excuse me,” she says, staring particularly disapprovingly at you, “You’re disturbing the other passengers.”

“Oh, we’re sorry-” you begin, blushing.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Bondy says, flatly.

“Bondy!” you hiss, nudging him.

“I can get you removed from this flight if you want me to.” the stewardess replies, patronisingly.

“God, it’s like being at school again!” Larry pipes up.

You’d all drawn enough attention to yourself for other passengers to turn around.

“Leave them alone, they’re just young lads messing around!” says an older man with a Yorkshire accent from in front of you.

“Yeah, it’s actually quite entertaining.” a young girl in her late teens affirms from behind you. 

The air hostess wrinkles her nose. “You better not cause any more-” she pauses to think, “Disturbances.”

Van pulls a face behind her back as she walks away haughtily. You giggle, pulling your phone out to check the time. 6 hours left to go.

“Is there WiFi on this plane?” you ask Bondy.

Before he gets a chance to reply, Larry gives you a firm “No.”

“What the fuck are you on about mate? Yeah there’s WiFi.” says Bondy.

You connect your phone to the WiFi, and are surprised to see tens of Facebook notifications come through slowly. 

“What have you lot tagged me in now?” you say, opening your notifications, “I’ve got about 6 private messages and 30 comments on a post?”

The page loads painstakingly as you see the incriminating post.

Y/N is feeling wet.

“Just had the worst sex ever with Van McCann before getting in the taxi to leave for tour. He came after thirty seconds because he’s got a 3 inch dick. He deserves it for leaving poor Larry Lau waiting outside in the cold and making him put all his bags in the taxi though x”

“Larry!” you almost yell, “You took my phone when I fell asleep in the taxi, didn’t you!”

“No,” he giggles, “T’wasn’t me.”

“It was though, wasn’t it!”

“Maybe.” he replies, laughing.

“What’s happening, babes?” Van peers over at your phone, “Larry, you little shit!”

A few seconds later, he shouts slightly too loudly. “I do not have a three inch cock!”

A few nervous giggles erupt from the seats around you all.

“What?” Van says, his voice going all high again, “I don’t! You’ve seen it!”

“For fuck’s sake, Larry, my nan’s seen this!” you gasp, reading the comments and your private messages, all questioning the post.

You quickly press delete, thinking about how you can get payback. Ah, you had just the picture. Van had sent you it the other day- an extract from his parents’ old photo album. You press upload, tagging Larry in the photo of him, aged 6, wearing a pink summer dress and sparkly hair clips. Perfect.

--

Two hours to go, and you were bored as fuck. You’d already listened to all of your favourite songs, mostly by The Kooks. You were even bored enough that you’d listened to all three Catfish albums, despite knowing you’d be hearing them non-stop for the next three months. Suddenly, you remember Van’s cheeky slap on the arse as you were boarding the plane. Payback for that was overdue. 

You look to your right to see Van sleeping, his head lolling gently to the side. You touch his thigh gently, and watch as he begins to stir. You let him fall back to sleep, but then you stroke his thigh again, slowly making your way inward. Stroke, watch him stir, then remove, until you get closer and closer to his dick. You stroke his crotch, and watch as his eyes begin to open.

“I love you.” you whisper in his ear, seductively, then nibble his earlobe.

You continue to rub his crotch slowly.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?” Van whispers, croakily.

“Payback.” you reply, quietly, as you feel his boner rise.

“Stop!” he whines, secretly loving it, “Why do I deserve this?”

“You slapped my arse.” you reply, now removing your hand from his crotch. 

You were satisfied that you’d made him horny, but deliberately not finished. How could you? You were on a plane for God’s sake.

“I fucking hate you.” Van whispers in your ear, “Now I gotta wait for this to go down.”

“Yep.” you reply, “Don’t slap my arse in public again, then.” 

 --

Half an hour to go. Even Bob looks slightly bored now. From the front of the plane, you hear a baby crying.

“I can’t listen to that no more,” Van says, achingly, “I hate hearing kids upset.”

You rub his shoulder reassuringly.

“People shouldn’t bring kids on planes.” you say, quietly.

Van nods in agreement. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we now ask that you return to your seats as we prepare for landing. Please put away any portable electronic devices and turn off your mobile phones. The seatbelt signs are now on and the toilets will be closed.”

You nestle closer to Van, and he puts his left arm around you.

“Ready for the USA?” you ask.

“Is the USA ready for us?” Van replies, confidently.

“Nobody’s ready for us!” you reply, laughing.

You kiss his lips gently. Van initially seems taken aback, but then kisses you back.

“Get a fucking room!” Larry quips.

“Can’t you wait till we get to the hotel at least?” Bondy yawns.

You simply shrug it off. Gripping Van’s hand tightly as the plane descends and the wheels hit the tarmac of the runway, you whisper in his ear.

“Here’s to the next adventure.”

#van mccann #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #vanfic #larry lau #johnny bond #bondy #bob hall #benji blakeway

[whats-my-newest-obsession]

Wanna guess the Larry moment?

On my coloring app, I found out about this feature that allows me to pick any picture from my device and I can color it! Naturally, I picked one of my Larry Stylinson pictures. There were 5 rows that were required to finish this picture. I have screenshots from each row when completed. Comment which row you guessed the picture on!

So heres a screenshot from the very beginning (I got so excited to start that I accidentally started coloring it and finished four colors before taking the screenshot, but don't worry; there's 50 colors in all.)

We're gonna call this row...Row 1/2

Row 1: Completed.

Have any ideas?

Row 2: Completed

The check mark in the top right hand corner shows that I was already halfway through!

Row 3: Completed

Row 4: Completed

So the colors are very...questionable. Especially the skin colors 😂

Final Row: Row 5: Completed

So if you haven't guessed the moment yet, this is the pictures of their matching his and her blankets.

Here is the original picture vs. the colored one

There are a couple things I want to clear up. When I was going through my files; trying to find a picture to color; I tried to click this picture and color it:

But it was too long to use and zoomed in too much to understand the wording.

Anyways, I then set out for a small picture. That's how I came across the matching blankets picture, but it looked like it was cut in half and for some reason I just assumed I have a picture of Louis happily squeezing a blanket. I decided it was a nice cute picture and clicked it.

Well, it was obviously the full picture. It actually worked out because it zoomed out enough to fit both figures.

Now the COLORS 😂😂

I think it's safe to assume that Harry and Louis are not dark skinned at ALL. And I think we can agree they are both the whitest of white people ever.

That being said, which row did you guess the picture on? Let me know!

-Andrea xx

#larry stylinson #larry is love #harry and louis #coloring app #pixel art

[wonderswritings]

Best Friends...Or? Part One

Summary: You met Chris on the set of Fantastic Four, and you two became fast friends. You’ve been by his side since, filming in three more movies together after. Spending so many years together you’ve learned each other's quirks and secrets, but have you really?

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

“When does your plane land?”

“No.” “Come on N/N you don’t even know what I’m going to say!” I rolled my eyes, placing the phone on speaker so I could sit it on my lap.

“Your asking me when my plane lands so you can pick me up. Larry already has a car waiting for us when we land.” “N/N! Come on please!” “No Chris. Larry has a car already waiting for us, that he paid for that will take us straight to the set.” “Please…” “No.” Larry laughed, turning into the parking lot.

“Please let me pick you guys up. It won’t be a problem.” “Chris we’re going to be getting in around one probably and you would just be getting in from filming. So no, you are not going to pick us up. We’ll be taking the car Larry has waiting for us and that’s that.” Larry parked the car, placing the car keys in his pocket as he got out of the car. Larry walked to the back of the car, grabbing our bags. I got out, grabbing my duffel bag from Larry. I put on the hat I had stolen from Chris the last time I was at his place on, pulling the sunglasses out of my duffel ad putting them on.

“You ready?” I nodded at Larry and we started to walk towards the airport. A few people recognized me, but they didn’t come over to ask for pictures or anything. Larry checked us in, and I sat down, pulling the hat lower. “Come on Y/N please. Please, please, please, pleaseeeeee.” “Chris no. You’re not going to win this one.” “Where are you right now?” “Right now I’m at the airport.” “Alright so either you let me pick you up when you land or I can send a car to pick you up.” “Christopher Robert Evans!” I groaned, leaning back in the chair as Larry came back over, grinning.

“Is it still Chris?” “Yeah.” He laughed, shaking his head as he sat down across from me.

“Tell him unless he plans on having a limo pick us up that’s decked out in some beer and chocolate we’re keeping our car.” I gave Larry a funny look, and he nodded, moving it his hand as if to say “go on”.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

“Chicken.”

I gasped, causing Larry to laugh.

“Chris, Chris calm down. Larry said that unless you plan on having a limo pick us up that’s decked out in beer and chocolate, we’re keeping the car.”

“I CAN DO THAT!”

I had to hold my phone away from my ear as Chris screamed into it.

“Jeez Chris, bust my eardrum why don’t you?”

“Sorry. But I can do that! I can have it stocked with Larry’s favorite beer and your favorite wine with chocolates and other snacks for you both!”

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Chris, Larry was just joking. We’re keeping the car. No limo, and no picking us up. Understood?”

“Yes mom.”

I laughed as Chris grumbled when our plane was called.

“Hey Chris I’ve got to go, they just called our plane. I’ll talk to you when we get settled ok?”

“Okay. Bye Y/N.”

“Bye Chris, talk to you in a few hours.”

IF I CAN NOT TAG YOU AFTER THREE TIMES (this is the first) I WILL REMOVE YOU FROM THE LIST!!

Best Friends...Or? Tags: @tessvillegas​ @smoothdogsgirl​  @patzammit​  @alexfayer​  @judig92​  @randomstuffyourwelcome @mrstarkidontfeelsogood  @superaturaldean67  @cryslblu  @xxluckydreamsxx​  @whope123​  @jumbledupfandoms​  @mrscevans​  @quotemeow​  @smoothddogsgirl  @overly-excited-fangirl​  @theshortegg​  @hista-girl​  @nonexistentquotes​  @mrscevans​  @redfoxwritesstuff​  @an-unhealthy-obsession​  @scarletwidow​ @shoytai  @wipplog​ @

Marvel Tags: @sfreeborn  @patzammit  @capsofwinchesters  @smoothdogsgirl  @fir3flies-light-up-my-sky  @andiyholly  @emoryhemsworth  @embersofstardust  @toastmaster94  @5aftermidnight  @crystlblu  @sergeantwhitewolf  @tienna-laufeyson16  @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @hista-girl  @supernaturaldean67  @textbookbabe  @iwanttomeetnewpeople  @kurlyafro  @killsandchills  @andiyholly  @lucywinchester67  @wowza-2  @badsongwinchester  @agent-valkyrie-romanoff  @jedi-of-221bbakerst  @katykyll  @exodarkwolf16  @liberty01  @jdawgzzz  @his-paradox  @elwenia  @carrietoddrick  @quotemeow  @karanliginkizilovato @idkavengersgirl  @peterfromtheavengers @imjustakilljoybaby @thisismysecrethappyplace @aloneanddesperate  @overly-excited-fangirl   @sydthekid1518  @snail-gardens @lovemesomepietro   @exesgames @themyrana

Actor Tags:

@sfreeborn

@patzammit

@be-amaziing

@capsofwinchesters

@smoothdogsgirl

@lalenamaximus

@emoryhemsworth

@marlenenewton14

@originalsoulcollector

@crazy-little-thing-called-buck

@dark-night-sky-99

@mrstarkidontfeelsogood18

@5aftermidnight

@justmilla

@crystlblu

@an-unhealthy-obsession

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@supernaturaldean67

@theshortegg

@mazackaaaa

@lexieloo03

@juniorhuntersam

@hista-girl

@killsandchills

@lucywinchester67

 @shinyb1ossom  

@bumblebet2

@kayqueen19

@alienslovealiens

 @bumber-car-s

@supernatural-strangerthings-198

0  

@emo-potato-virgil

@agent-valkyrie-romanoff

@jedi-of-221bbakerst

@rowenahearts-queenofhearts

@notamuggleposts

@dark-night-sky-99

@lovecountrymusic

 @yoharryyouwizzard

@just-a-rad-nerd

@stilessaracasmqueen

@liberty01

@katykyll

@cynicalintelligence

@exodarkwolf16

@nonexistentquotes

@quotemeow

@idkavengersgirl

 @peterfromtheavengers

@imjustakilljoybaby

@neostvarensan

@nicole061506

#best friends or? #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans oneshot #chris evans drabble #chris evans

[manadude-blog1]

The Wise Dudes

Since becoming a Dudeist in,like, what was it? 2015 or something, who fucking knows man...i’ve noticed a lack of material reference that was a bit beyond the usual “Dudeists” who would only ever quote the movie non-stop; every post, every meme, every comment quotes. It gets a bit exhausting after a while. So I wanted to use this blog thing as a platform to point other Dudeists in the direction of other cool characters that abide in their own way. 

In my quest to live my best life I’ve come across a handful of people, who, after studying their character for some time, have dubbed them the “Wise Dudes”, they aren’t bearing gifts of Mir, but they are sagely no doubt. True abiders, people, but mostly characters these people play who really tie those archetypal aspects together in one holy, far out Dude. 

The Dude Himself - Jeff Bridges

The Holy Dude himself. Jeff Bridges.  It seems since his role as the Dude in The Coen Brothers The Big Lebowski, Jeff has himself adopted and nurtured what it means to be a Dude in his real life.  When he isn’t doin’ the whole acting this, he is out there doin’ his part for starving kids, or the environment. 

He even produced the Sleeping Tapes, which is a massive trip, ASMR, guided meditation hybrid of strangeness, but even stranger it makes sense. 

Which you can find here on Youtube: https://youtu.be/y3_Evj0iPDk

And he also co-wrote a uniquely awesome book with his own Zen Master buddy Bernie Glassman Titled “The Dude and the Zen Master”, which is a collection of in-depth jams discussing the ins-and-outs and Zen messages hidden inside the film, and the character of the Dude. 

But above all these things, Jeff Bridges really just displays all the virtues of a true dude, from every single interview he takes part in, he spreads a real chill, and riffs with anybody and everybody like they are close friends. Thats what makes him the Wisest Dude of the lot, because he is the same off-screen as he is on-screen in the role that started it all. One of my favourite interviews is this one where he groks with another Wise Dude in this list: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmqtyVE290Y

Don Stark - Gerry “with a G” - Maron Season 3. 

In Season 3 (episode 6) of IFC’s Maron; Mark finds himself attending Narcotics Anonymous Meetings and in need of a sponsor (after meeting two very Donny characters) meets Gerry “with a G”.  I instantly loved this character played by Don Stark (from That 70′s Show fame).  From his first words, mumbled out between gulps of food, explaining to Maron he shouldn’t eat the birthday cake because it’s covered in “junkie Germs” and that he is immune.  And just his look; which resonated with me alot personally, as we dress almost identically (even to the point of me buying the exact same ringed necklace shown in the above picture), loose tshirts, oversized un-buttoned overshirts and a rugged demeanour. Gerry has all the markings of a true Wise Dude. 

Gerry has alot of cool lines in the few episodes he’s in. He not only helps Maron find an awkward living situation, which is what any fellow dude would do, reflected in Gerry saying: “One Addict helping another, that’s what it’s all about”. He is genuinely just living his best life and helping out others in the process, with his own dude style all his own. 

Mark Boone Junior - Jerry - Flaked

You might know this next dude from Sons of Anarchy fame.  In Flaked, which stars Wil Arnett, Jerry is the main character, Chips, ex Father-in-law.  A self made millionaire, but you wouldn’t know it at first. His house is pretty chill, actually, i downplayed that, I fucking love this dudes abode. 

Which, like our previous Dude, reflects something in my own life and Dudeness; all the dream catchers and aesthetics that come with the lifestyle; a chair out the front with a native-american looking throw, nick nacks, overgrowth, ambient lighting etc.  When we first meet Jerry, he is a bit tanked on red wine and possibly stoned, waking up from a dream he’s not quite sure he was asleep for. he is talking in metaphors and seems to be in some kind of evening stupor, which i can relate too, because when the sun sets, I just wanna chill out, hang with my dog, smoke a J and watch the light fade, anyone rocking up to my place unannounced would totally throw me off. And although he doesn’t particularly like Chip, he still lets him in to chat. 

Although Jerry loses his chill, later on, it shows, like The Dude himself, that none of us are immune to life, but at least we aren’t fake, we tend to it, we get back to whoever we are when the shit passes. As long as we abide, where we are, that’s the goal line. 

Joaquin Phoenix - Larry "Doc" Sportello - Inherent Vice

I admit, I had to watch Inherent Vice more than once to actually “get it”, aside from the story which really throws you through the ringer, and leaves you feeling like your coming down of some massive LSD binge journey, the main character of Doc, a private investigator high as a kite, bumbling his way from one location to the next dazed and confused is pretty dudely and his demeanour and dress code and way of life got him an esteemed place in my Wise Dude Pantheon.  Not much I can about him, check out the movie and see for yourself. But you might wanna smoke a joint before hand AND during, I had to to really get what was going on, it’s a wild ride man. 

Matthew McConaughey & Woody Harrelson - Steve Addington & Jack Mayweather - Surfer, Dude!

 This one is a double feature. The movie Surfer, Dude! is pretty cool, i watch it occasionally for a refresher course in taking it easy when the waves of life die off and I need to reset.  Steve, McConaughey’s character, is a surfer bum. Travelling from surf to surf living his best life until a media mogul attempts to lock him into a contract that starts chipping away at his Dude-ness! fuck, media mogul or not, we’ve all been there right?  His friends and fans abandon him, he gets set up looking like a douche bag poser, and the surf stops coming leaving him lost in life.  In the end, everything turns out alright for Steve, but go watch the film, it’s pretty cool.  It even co-stars Willie Nelson as a pot-growing goat shepherd.

Jeff Dowd - The Original Inspiration for The Dude

This ones a tricky one, when i first came across Jeff Dowd, i thought “oh hell yeah, the original Dude, what a trip” but as i started to discover more and more about him, watching videos and interviews etc. It really dawned on me that although this guy is a DUDE, he’s not as chill as i first thought. 

But that was a very Dudeist message for me at that time and place, because alot of Dudeists out there, the poser ones, the perpetual movie-quoters and posters of very undudely things, think the message and archetype of The Dude, is to be chill all the time, to abide with no worries in the world. But after many viewings of the Big Lebowski i’ve found that the real message of the movie isn’t about that at all, neither is the Dudes character; It’s about bending with shit that comes up moment-to-moment, dealing with it, and coming back to yourself, a place you can abide in, and although Jeff Dowd is very chill, sometimes incoherent and sloppy, he’s passionate about life, and doing what he wants to do, dealing with the shit as it arises. And that’s what it’s all about. So maybe that’s where the inspiration mostly came from.  As Bruce Lee Said: “Be like Bamboo, strong yet supple, bending with the pressures of life, and snapping back to form when it passes” or something like that. 

FINALLY, ME - Rick Boland 

Man if there was ever a person who felt like someone pissed on his rug it’s me.  Life has it’s Strikes and Gutters, no doubt.  But at the end of the day, after i’ve been out doin’ my thing; mentoring and working with young people and the community in whatever aspect that is, I come home, I have a shower, I listen to some tunes, light some incense, hang with my wife and canine pal, and abide.  Have I put myself on this list because I consider myself some Wise Dude? Nah, not at all, I’m just a simple Dude, living his best life, or trying too, helping who I can, and remembering at the end of the day, even when life punches you straight in the mouth, that getting back that place where it all ties together and makes sense is what it’s all about.  Bob Dylan once said “A man is considered a success if he gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night, and inbetween he does what he needs to do”.  That is something I can certainly Abide with. Peace Out Dudes 

#dude #dudeism #the big lebowski #dudeist

[allwaswell16]

Annual Writing Self Evaluation

I was tagged by @louandhazaf <3 Thanks, Nic! 

1. List of works published this year: 

Faded From This Touch | 7k

 No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) | 17k

Running Through a Cloud of Steam  | 5k

 And Follow the Sun | 100 words

 I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me)  | 20k

 Every Piece of You (It Just Fits Perfectly)  | 7k

 Maybe I’ve Been California Dreaming | 100 words

 Dive (Series)  | 21k 

 When the Sun Won’t Let You Sleep  | 30k

 Sit Next To Me  | 12k

 Falling Back | 100 words

 If I Loved You Less  | 36k

 Staring Across Barcelona  | 7k

 Charity Ficlets | 10k

 Pictures of You | Drarry | 2k

I saw someone add some stats here that I found interesting, so I’m going to include that here:

I published 15 works for a total of 199,784 words (not including some drabbles that are only published to tumblr.) Hmmm, I’m realizing my stats might be skewed because of an epilogue I wrote for a fic from last year. Oh well, I was told there would be no maths, so I’m not going to figure it out now. Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m realizing I have counted the Dive series as one work, but ao3 counts it as 5 or however many of them there are. Blah. No one check my maths please.

10 fics rated Explicit, 3 Mature, 3 Teen, 2 General and 1 Not Rated.  All were Larry except for one Drarry fic.

My most popular fic this year was I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me), which is also the most popular thing I’ve written ever. Why? I have no idea. You guys are weird. I’m not weird at all for writing about monitor lizards. My second most popular fic was If I Loved You Less, which is telling me you guys like a/b/o fics, maybe? idk.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Probably When the Sun Won’t Let You Sleep. That fic consumed me while I wrote it. I constantly thought about it, and the characters talked to me all the time in my head. I knew them inside and out. When I first came up with the idea of Antarctic research scientists, I had no idea what the story was really going to be about until I started researching the British Antarctic Survey. There are so many stories to be told from the absolute ends of the earth that I had no idea existed. The fic became a story of why Louis found himself in Antarctica, but he’s not an entirely reliable narrator of his story. The other characters help you figure out why he’s really come to the ends of the earth.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I wouldn’t say I’m not proud of anything I wrote this year, but I’m a bit mystified by the popularity of I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me). To me it was just some silly thing I wrote to fulfill a couple of prompts that I put together. I had fun writing it though! And it’s always fun to have lots of people talk to you about a fic, so that was nice, too! 

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

(From If I Loved You Less)

Louis’ heart pounded at the sudden intimacy of a darkened garden, although other couples strolled through the lantern lit pathway.

“I hope I was not interrupting you in the ballroom.”

Lord Styles’ voice sent a shiver through him that Louis could never quite control whilst in his presence. “No, you did not, and I thank you for coming to my aid.”

“Ah, I sensed you were in need of it,” he said simply as he offered Louis a sly smile. It seemed they were both in agreement on Baron Winston. The music of a waltz floated through the air, and Lord Styles hesitated on the stone path. “Shall we return for our dance?”

“If you’d like to,” Louis said, though a bit reluctant to leave this small oasis from the heated ballroom and if he were honest with himself, reluctant to sever this small moment of privacy with Lord Styles.

“I would rather walk and speak of nearly any topic rather than return to the ball,” Lord Styles declared.

“Is that right?” Louis ducked his head to hide his smile at Lord Styles’ honesty. He quite liked that he seemed always so forthright.

“Yes, and I’d dearly like to spend my time elsewhere.”

“Why don’t you?” Louis asked boldly as he looked back up at Lord Styles’ handsome profile, almost sure of the answer.

Lord Styles’ lips pursed a bit and he made a funny twitch of his nose as though to prevent a grin from spreading across his face.

“I think you know why,” he whispered into the darkness.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

I had the opportunity to write a fic for @greatpemberly this year as part of @1dfanworksforcharity and when I discovered what her ao3 was, I was so so happy. I recognized her ao3 immediately as someone who has been reading and commenting on my fics for years. It was an honor to write for someone who has supported me for so long. 

I feel extremely lucky to have the response I’ve had to my fics in general and to get the comments I receive. I respond to every single comment, and I appreciate every single one. The long ones with people yelling about specific parts make me grin like an idiot, and the short ones letting me know they’ve read or reread something show up in my ao3 emails and bring a smile to my face, too. Whenever I get a comment from a writer I admire, I try not to make a fool of myself in the response but I don’t always succeed. lol. I mean, come on, if Dolce comments on your fic, you get to dance around your kitchen for a while, right? 

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I had a meltdown in November. I was trying to do nanowrimo and I’d written 27k of my Big Bang for next year and was kicking ass really. However, my Big Bang is angsty, and it was way too intense for me to try and write that much difficult writing in that amount of time. It messed with my head in a way fic has never messed with it before. It scared me a little. So I quit nano halfway through, and it was definitely the right thing to do for my mental health.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Niall and Shawn in If I Loved You Less. When I started writing that fic, I had basically no notes on what Shawn was like and only a vague idea of what Niall was like, but as soon as I started writing it, they threatened constantly to just take over the fic. lol. My beta said when I started, if I was sure I wasn’t writing a Shiall fic. 

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Just the act of writing so much last year and this year has helped me hone my skills a bit. There are things about how I write now that isn’t present in my earlier fics. And it’s simply from just writing so much that it gets easier to create a more well rounded story, I think. When I structure a story now, my outline isn’t just a series of points anymore. I’m much better I think at coming up with the story arc so that I can focus more on characters. Taggiecb really helped me with “inner monologue” and calling me out when I wasn’t doing it. lol. I also wrote a fic in past tense this year for the first time, which was a much bigger challenge than I ever thought it would be.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I just hope to keep writing and reading as much as possible! I think the fics I have planned are ambitious in different ways, so I hope to keep challenging myself. 

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

My answer is always @taggiecb. I don’t know if anyone understands that every single thing I write must first pass her initial test. I write first to entertain her and then I think about myself and everyone else. haha. We’re not co-dependent at all! But truly no one understands me like she does and no one loves my writing like she does, and it’s definitely mutual. <3

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Always. Every fic has something of me in it.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I hope to just encourage writers to seek out other writers for support if they need it. Writing doesn’t have to be something you do alone. If you’re having trouble getting people to read your stuff, I’d say to write for challenges and exchanges. I wrote for so many over the last few years, and I really think that’s where a lot of people found my fics. This certainly isn’t new wisdom, but I think it helps to write and read as often as possible. The more you write, the better you’ll become at the craft of writing. The more you read, the more inspired you’ll become. If you don’t read the other fics in your fandom, you will miss out on finding new and exciting things to write and reminding yourself on what you can work on to get better. The reading is nearly as important as the writing.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’m in the middle of writing my Big Bang fic right now. So that’s what I’ll be working on until it’s done. It’s an intense amnesia au that has a twist to it. Hopefully, I can pull it off. It will likely be the longest thing I’ve written. 

@afirethatcannotdie and I are going to run another round of @larryabroad, so actually, Ellie, we need to get on organizing that again soon. haha. 

I have two other fics that I have plotted that I’d like to write in 2019. One is probably for the @1000feelingsfics challenge and is a soulmate au based on a drabble I wrote for the Fall Drabble Challenge. The other is a bucket list au that involves a lot of travel, so maybe that could be for Larry Abroad. Not for sure on that yet. 

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@goodmorningtoyouuniverse @rosegoldhlfics @phd-mama   @becomeawendybird @taggiecb @helloamhere @hereforlou @2tiedships2 @humhalleloujah @dimpled-halo I tagged more than 3 because everyone should do this if they want! If you see this and want to do it, just say I tagged you! <3

*All answers should be about works published in 2018. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want.

(also, here’re my responses from 2016, 2017)

#annual writing self evaluation #thanks alex for coming up with this years ago! #we're still out here using it! #larry fan fiction #larry fan fic #self rec #fic rec

[saintmccann]

43

prompt reader meets van while photographing the band in a photoshoot for @i-wanna-bring-you-home-myself. fluffy! word count - 2857. 

notes I’ve never seen people do mood boards for their fics, so I’m going to continue doing it since it was so fun for Red. Let me know what you think!

__________

You slid your thumb across the winder of your 35mm camera, and sighed when you realized you’d used up the last picture on the roll.

“Take 5, lads,” you yelled to the four men posted up near the studio backdrop, and walked to your equipment table. To your anger, you realized the side pocket of your camera bag was empty. You’d only packed three rolls of film that day, and you’d just finished all the three on people unwilling to pose. These men took ages to photograph properly, and even so, still made odd “serious” faces that didn’t look natural. Ugh. You had barely used two rolls of film on Rita Ora last week, and her management had asked for a whole lot more final photos than Catfish and the Whatever-they-were-called. You’ve got to be kidding me, you mumbled under your breath, and pushed the palm of your hand against your forehead.

“Problem, love?” a voice piped up from behind you. You swiveled. Standing there was the frontman of the band you were shooting for their upcoming album booklet. He had a hard time with clenching his jaw in photos, and you had to tell him to relax multiple times, but he kept jittering around and making everyone nervous until you had to expel him for a cigarette break about an hour earlier. You weren’t too keen on talking with him; he’d interfered with your work too much by now, and he seemed like he could be a stressful presence on the regular. However, you had to keep it professional. Kelsey, your intern, giggled. Early on, she’d noticed how upset this particular job had made you.

“Ran out of film. Don’t have any more in the kit,” you sighed, talking more into the air than to the man who’d asked. “I might just let you all go today. I think we have the material we need.”

He chuckled, and sat on a nearby pop art yellow chair under a softbox, spindly legs awkwardly bent beneath the metal chair seat. “I doubt that. We lot are terrible at photos.” At that, the corners of your mouth turned upward. At least he knew he couldn’t model. His humility brightened your mood a tad.

“People have told us before, ‘You’re all nice, but you’ve got no good looks and you can’t pose for shit.’ Even when they use the regular cameras they’ve gotta change the SD card or whatever. We’re pros at wasting time. See, me mate Larry and I, he’s over there, we sit up in our kitchen for ---”

The buzzer overhead sounded off that the five minute break was over, and that everyone should return to their places for photos. You smiled and nodded toward the ceiling to dismiss him. Bless. Boy could he run his mouth.

The frontman stood up and stretched his legs a little. Instead of walking to the backdrop, he walked over to his friend, presumably Larry, and whispered in his ear. You shook your head and readied your digital camera. You were so glad you’d grabbed it as you left out the door this morning.

“Y/N, are we moving to digital?” Kelsey asked, ready to take orders.

“Yep, go ahead and dismantle the flashes on stands; we won’t be needing them for this shoot since I have another to attach to my camera. Thank you!” you called as Kelsey scurried about the studio and between Catfish members.

Once the men were back in place -- drummer and bassist in the back, lead guitarist and vocalist up front -- you readied a separate camera.

The band’s manager, Mike, walked in after you’d taken a few test shots. You called over to him.

“Hey Mike, unfortunately the photoshoot has taken up the three rolls of film I had ready for today. I have to use my digital camera to finish the rest.”

Mike walked over, gnawing on a toothpick. “Won’t that interfere with the finished effect of the photos we specifically booked your studio for?” he asked cautiously -- not getting angry yet, but about to be. “We don’t want to pay extra for editing to achieve that film look.”

“It will, but unless we get our hands on some film, I can’t continue. My studio didn’t expect them to be so… uncooperative.”

The mention of the word seemed to evoke whispers from the band members as you spoke, only semi-hushedly, to the manager, who tersely responded.

“My... apologies. We don’t know if we’ll be coming back here another day for the rest of the shoot. We’re on a tight schedule.” His eyebrow furrowed first at you, and then he shot a look over his shoulder at the four men standing awkwardly on the white paper drawn down for the shoot. Kelsey pretended to not be listening.

“And so am I. Today is the only day I blocked out for you lot.” The tension in the room climbed to uncomfortable levels as your voice rose.

The frontman came up from behind and tapped on Mike’s shoulder so he’d let him into the circle of conversation. “If it’s any consolation, I can pay to get you more film,” he said, sympathetic.

“That would be nice of you, but the camera takes only a certain kind,” you shrug. “I don’t think you’d be able to get it today.”

“Give me the details, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Very well,” the manager cut in, and left the circle to attend to other matters, probably to try to book another studio for this afternoon. You guessed you were trusting the frontman now.

“Thank you,” you said to him. You handed him a piece of paper with the film type scrawled onto it, courtesy of Kelsey. He smirked, pivoted on his heel, and walked away.

Stressed and in need of a dose of caffeine, you made your way to the table filled with snacks and drinks provided for your camera crew and the band. Mug in hand, you went to pour the coffee jug and realized there wasn’t any left. You scoffed and picked up a scone instead.

“Sorry,” the person next to you said raspily, clearing his throat before speaking again: “Took the last bit of coffee not more than five minutes ago. It was mostly the dregs though.” His rabbit teeth smiled in consolation, and then he sauntered off in a matching tracksuit. He paused to check his phone, typed out a text, and then kept walking. You took in the sight of the little man in his tracksuit, and chuckled to yourself.

At a table a ways away from the studio setup, you chewed your scone dejectedly. You were supposed to be a professional… but then again, so were they! They came into your studio and wasted your time all day, and you probably only got two good shots from all those rolls you used up. You wouldn’t be able to tell if they were adequate until you developed the film.

You sat there for thirty minutes, waiting for the lanky frontman to return. You’d sent the band members out on lunch break in the meantime. Kelsey entertained you and your lighting crew by setting up her laptop with Shane Dawson’s latest conspiracy videos… needless to say, your mood brightened considerably.  

While you were checking your phone, a small box came down sharply on the table, and then a cup next to it. You looked up in awe. There the frontman was, smiling ear-to-ear.

“Five rolls of state-of-the-art film you asked for, exactly for your camera, and a venti coffee, because the bags under your eyes aren’t becoming you, love.”

“How did you…..?”

“Don’t mention it. I’m sorry to have caused you all this trouble today. I know you can’t complain much ‘cause it’s your job, but if I can make it less hectic, I will.”

“I have no words. That was…. quick.”

“I know,” he winked, and ambled back to where the other band members were camped out against the backdrop.

You stood from your seat and threw the plate with scone crumbs into the wash bin for the caterer, took a long sip of coffee, and started to ready your camera with a little pep in your step.

“Kelsey, would you mind calling Mike to tell him everything’s fine? Van saved the day.”

You listened to the chit-chat as you prepped.

“Van!” the guy in the tracksuit yelled across the room. It echoed against the industrial pipes framing the white brick. “Van!”

“What d’you want Larry?” the frontman, presumably Van, answered sharply before sitting up and catching whatever Larry had thrown at him.

Van. Cute name. It reminded you of a guy you’d met a few years ago at a pub. His name was also Van, and he’d bought you a few drinks before making out with you in the alley behind it. Thinking about that experience made you blush, and chuckle a little to yourself. Oh, the things you did when you were younger. Kelsey noticed you smiling, and air-high-fived you from across the room for getting into a better mood.

“I don’t get this Animal Crossing game, Benji,” the tall one with the hat said to the guy next to him. “Why do I have to give the animals what they want? Why can’t I get off on withholding?”

Bob snickered, and shook his curls out. Benji spoke slower than you’d ever heard anyone speak. “Bondy…. you just collect what they want from the different areas, and come back to them when you have it all,” he said. “It’s the whole premise of the game.”

“I don’t like this fuckin’ app,” Bondy said, laughing, and put his phone back in his shirt pocket.

“You’re going to have to remove that from your shirt pocket,” you told Bondy. “And the pack of ciggies you’ve got lingering in your front jeans pocket. I see you,” you motioned between your eyes and his with two fingers.

“Do what the woman says, Bond,” Van piped up, and smiled softly at you. For once that day, you felt like smiling back. Caffeine works wonders.

Camera in hand, you walked over to them and put your elbow on your hip. “I know you’re all tired, and so am I, so let’s try to get these done as quickly as possible.”

*****

That same night, shortly before closing time, glow from the safelight bulbs washed the studio darkroom in redness. You were dipping photos in solution, and hanging them on the clothespin against the wall to dry.

A knock at the outer door in the hall caused your concentration to break, and you jumped a bit. You were the only one in the office adjoining the studio today.

You pressed the intercom button on the far wall. “I’ll be out in a second!” you called, and removed your gloves.

You made sure the light was turned off in the hall before you opened the door, and then locked the darkroom before opening the hall door into the main studio, where Van himself was stood admiring your past photography framed on the industrial brick walls.

“Hello, love,” Van said, moving to stand closer to your desk. He’d changed clothes since the shoot, into a simple black short sleeve and black denim. You walked behind the desk in the studio and sat in your chair, waiting for him to speak again.

“It’s Van McCann, remember me?”

“How could I forget such a charming and resourceful person. Can I help you tonight, Van?”

“Just checking the status on those photos,” he said, tongue between his teeth.

“Unfortunately, they can only be picked up by the person who booked the shoot… and in your case, that’s Mike. Also, it takes at least a week to process them and log them. You’re a tad bit early, I’m afraid.”

You shook the computer mouse back and forth to revive your sleeping computer, and in your Catfish business folder, you made a note that said Van tried to pick up photos under the “Contact” spreadsheet.

Van leaned his elbows across the high shelf of the desk, and peered down at you, coquettish smile on his face. “Can’t you make an exception for little old me?”

“Are you…. flirting with me?”

“Might be.”

“Well, I have to close up shop in a few, Mr. McCann, so if you’re going to ask me out, make it quick.”

“As quick as the film retrieval, or?” he trailed off, smiling so hard his teeth could bust.

“Quicker than that.”

******

The next day at the studio, Kelsey was talkative.

“So, Y/N, how’d it go?”

“What do you mean, Kels?”

“Last night.”

“Wha ---”

“You wrote a note in the spreadsheet that Van tried to come pick up photos. The spreadsheet was still up on the computer, which you never accidentally leave open, or turned on, meaning something had to have happened to get you distracted. And then, after I’d seen that, I got a call from the band’s manager, Mike, asking to come round to pick up the photos today, meaning Van didn’t retrieve them. So I knew he was up to something. And you can’t wipe the grin off your face today. Which I guess answers the question -- last night went great.”

“I mean, yeah. We went to dinner. He seems traditional but fun. I laughed my ass off. It was…. good.” You tried to brush it off nonchalantly. Kelsey smiled mirthfully.

“Not in that way, Kelsey, he and I just met.”

“I never know with you! Remember the time---”

The banter was interrupted by a ring of the bells over the studio door.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Van sauntered in, carrying a vase overflowing with sunflowers. “These are for you.”

“Holy fuck,” Kelsey whispered, giggling softly to herself.

Your eyes widened as you silently took the vase from him. When you’d caught your breath, blush still fire engine red and evident on your cheeks, you turned to him. “Sunflowers are my favorite.”

He winked, and said, “how about coming out to lunch with me today?”

*****

The chivalry continued throughout the next several weeks, and you and Van saw each other at least every other day. Sometimes he’d pop into your studio with a coffee for you, other times he’d find a way to whisk you away for an afternoon of fun. You two were inseparable. All the original disgruntled feelings you’d felt toward him had vanished the night he came into the office late.

“Van, today’s your lucky day,” you called to him. He was in the main part of the studio, visiting you of course, but also chatting it up with a friend who knew Bob.

He walked over to your desk and leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Am I going to get lucky on this lucky day? After all, I am Irish. The luck abounds.”

“Maybe, if you don’t keep spitting in my ear,” you laughed.

Van glanced at your computer monitor and smiled. “These the photos?”

“Mmhhm! The second set you came back for, after the first press shoot. The ones where you all weren’t being assholes.”

Van smiled. “But if the band hadn’t been so uncooperative, we’d have never got on so well.”

You chuckled, “Maybe so.” You shifted your gaze back to the computer, and put on a presenter’s voice. “Fresh off the press, edited by my own hand. Digitized for you and your friends. Want to have a look?”

Van let you scroll past a few before commenting. Mike had given orders that they be transformed from color to black and white. That was easy, but finding a photo where they all looked decent and not like angry Arctic Monkeys fans was a challenge. You were able to find a few for their next press photos.

“Shit, you make me look good,” Van snickered, pointing at his jawline in one photo.

“You already look good.”

“But like… better.”

You scrolled past a few more, enchanting Van with the photos. When he spoke up again, his voice was a bit softer.

“You just make me better.”

You weren’t expecting such sincerity. You leaned up to where he was propped over the desk and kissed him. His plump lips tasted like the cherry chapstick he borrowed from you earlier.

“And I know we’ve only been going out together for two months, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

Your back arched with a tingle and you sat up straight in your chair. Fuck. No. Nope. It was too early for this, wasn’t it? Every nerve in your body was fighting the urge to hyperventilate. There’s no way he could love you this soon. Were you excited? But you were used to being independent. Breathe. He was good for you though. But what if it was a trap? You needed to--

“I’m going on tour.”

“Thank God,” you huffed out, relaxing in your chair.

“What?” Van asked, shocked.

“No! No, I meant... sorry… I didn’t mean that I’m glad you’re leaving. I just thought you were about to tell me you loved me.” You facepalmed. He smiled, and laid his chin to rest on his hand, looking you in the eyes.

“That too.”

#this is purely fluff #fluff #vanfic #van mccann #van fanfiction #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #catb fanfic #catb fic

[huffleporg]

Chapter 4 - Everything in the Kitchen Sink | T | Ao3 from the beginning 

Down in the Beverage District, a work of investigative journalism into the rivalry between two coffee shops leads to four calls to the City Health Inspector's office from J.S., three detentions, two fires, and one broken sugar bowl.

Characters: Isadora Quagmire, Olivia Caliban, Duncan Quagmire, Jacques Snicket, Count Olaf, Kit Snicket, Violet Baudelaire, Lemony Snicket, Beatrice Baudelaire, Quigley Quagmire, Dewey Denouement, Jacquelyn Scieszka, Larry Your-Waiter, Klaus Baudelaire, Fiona, Bertrand Baudelaire

"at”s for those who have expressed interest in the past since the tags on Tumblr have been weird: @badasouefanficideas, @bxxkish-sister, @pretentiouslisp, @veryfierceduchess, @myqueenoliviacaliban, @abbie0007, @catatonicallyeuphonic, @whattheactualfuckuniverse, @citatious, @esme-squalor-is-bae, @catlovermeow11, @alerin-layent, @itsteddylupxn

And without further ado, the chapter:

The jeans weren’t even hers. After a quick assessment of her closet the night before, Isadora had realized that her wardrobe was woefully lacking in clothes that looked like they would suit or even could survive an afternoon working amongst the dirt and grime that was The Firebrand. Duncan had readily supplied her with a pair of his jeans, and Isadora had decided that the oversized Lachrymose Leech tee-shirt she had gotten as a joke last summer could be sacrificed for the sake of Duncan’s project.

Quigley had looked much more excited than Isadora knew she had looked when they had parted ways to head to work. With each step closer to The Firebrand, Isadora could feel her muscles tensen more, bracing for whatever was in store for her and Duncan on their first day of work. She wondered if it was normal to feel such apprehension before going into work on a first day anywhere or whether the anxious quickening of her heart was exclusive to approaching The Firebrand.

At least she had Duncan to enter the dismal cafe with.

“You’re late,” came an accented voice from a darkened corner. There was sound of a chair being scraped across the floor, and then their new boss emerged from the shadows, tucking something into his apron pocket.

“You never told us what time to come,” said Duncan defensively. He glanced over at Isadora as if to confirm, and when she offered him a nod, he continued, “We can’t be late if you didn’t give us a time to be here by.”

Using the same accent that he had the other day, Count Olaf continued, “The Prufrock Prep dismissal bell is at 2:05. The trolley ride takes 35 minutes. It’s five past three. You’re late.”

Confused, Isadora frowned, wondering how and why this man would know exactly what time school let out. “We had to change, like you told us to do,” said Isadora. “That meant that we missed the trolley and had to wait for the next one.”

The man gave the triplets an evaluative glance. “You should have changed faster.” He took a few steps closer to the twins. “I’ve done more complicated costume changes in less than a minute. Five minutes is more than enough time to get out of those uniforms and walk to the trolley stop. It’s less than a five minute walk from the academic building. Don’t miss the 2:15 trolley next time.”

The way he spoke to them, Isadora was tempted to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time and storm out, but she held her tongue.

Ever the journalist, Duncan seemed to have other matters on his mind. “Did you go to Prufrock?” Duncan asked.

Count Olaf blinked. “What?” He seemed to be just as surprised Isadora was by Duncan’s question.

“Just, you seem to know an awful lot about Prufrock. Stuff that only students would know like the time it takes to get to the trolley stop from class,” Duncan explained. “So, it would follow that you went there.”

A grin quirked on Isadora’s face. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t put it together, but her brother was right.

“I don’t see why my educational past is any of your concern,” sneered Count Olaf.

Duncan shrugged his shoulders. “Only curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Isadora said finishing the adage.

With an exhausted huff, the man fixed the two with a cold stare. “No, last I checked, the cat is dead and buried, but there are still posters the owners put up thinking puss will come home,” he said, his voice low.

As if a cold wind had blown through the shop, Isadora shuddered.

“Now you have wasted enough of my time,” Count Olaf continued. “So let’s begin your training.” And like a switch had been flicked, a genial smile bloomed on the man’s unshaven face. From the glint in his eyes, though, it seemed impossible for the expression to be anything but a mask. “Shall we begin your grand tour?”

The triplets knew that it wasn’t really a question, but still they both nodded.

Count Olaf spread his hands out and gestured around the empty cafe. “This is the shop.” He walked to the counter, the Quagmires following behind him. “It’s where we serve the stuff that is brewed. Coffee. Tea. Various foamy drinks. What you would expect.” He led them behind the counter, onto a mat caked and stained with sawdust and coffee. “Cash register. Not for you to touch.” He gestured to the space below the counter to where several mugs and plates were stored. “Some fine china for those who decide they want to dine in.”

Duncan bent down to pick up one of the greyed and chipped ceramic mugs. As he pulled it away, dust and strands of cobwebs came up.

“People very rarely want to dine in,” said Count Olaf, as if that excused the state. “That’s why we are fully stocked with paper and styrofoam cups.”

Duncan set the mug down on the rough wood counter and brushed the dust off onto his shirt.

“We’ve got the coffee maker, filters, beans, coffee grinder, pots…” He glanced around at the numerous instruments on the shelf against the wall. “Filters, decaf pot that no one ever orders from.” He grabbed the orange handled pot and turned it upside down over the sink. Rather than spill out, the coffee - or rather the sludge - oozed out. Too impatient to wait for the molasses-like mess to dribble into the sink, Count Olaf set the pot down. “We leave anything that’s dirty in the sink.”

Both triplets craned their necks to see into the stained and crowded sink. Mugs with crusts and discolored pots waited amongst the detris of so many cups of coffee and mugs of tea. Isadora wrinkled her nose reflexively.

“I will show you the back now.” Count Olaf strode to the dingy sheet acting as a curtain and pulled it back. Leaning forward, he called out, “Ladies. You’re needed.”

Isadora heard the sound of footsteps, and then two short women emerged from the back. The women both had identical hunches and both wore thick cat eyed glasses. For a triplet, identical twins wearing matching glasses and very similar clothing was hardly remarkable. What made Isadora almost stare at the women - before she realized what she was doing and then pretended to be fascinated with the display of tea boxes and tins - was the white makeup on their face. Isadora had seen pictures of geishas and paintings of women from the 18th century with a similar cosmetic aesthetic, but never before had she seen it on a real person, much less two.

“Twins, meet twins,” Count Olaf said.

The women stuck out their hands at the same time.

“Pleasure to meet you,” said the one on the right as the one on the left nodded.

“We’re actually not--” started Isadora, but as Duncan gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow, she fell silent.

“Not what, dear?” asked the one on the left.

“Not going to shake our hands?” the one on the right said.

“That’s rude,” concluded the left one.

“No, um…” Isadora reached out to shake the closest woman’s hand. “I misspoke. Sorry. It’s very nice to meet you both.” She then shook the next woman’s hand, Duncan quickly following suit and offering his own greeting.

Count Olaf cleared his throat, “Old twins, I’m going to need you to watch the front while I show the new twins around.”

The glances exchanged between the four employees conveyed a distinctly unanimous opinion that absolutely no one needed to watch the cafe.

“Doug and Isabelle-”

“Duncan and Isadora,” Isadora corrected her boss sharply.

The man froze and did a double take. “Seriously? Your parents named you after the dancer?”

“Your parents named you ‘Count,’” retorted Isadora.

Not at all phased, Count Olaf said smoothly, “Nobody questioned Duke Ellington’s parents when they named him Duke. Or Earl Grey’s-”

“I don’t think Earl Grey was his actual name,” interjected Duncan. “And I don’t think he had anything to do with the tea.”

The man stood silently, considering. His pause made Isadora’s stomach begin to twist into a nervous knot, but finally Count Olaf said, “I no interest in or use for history. It’s caused enough trouble already, and I’m not paying you to discuss it. You’re here to clean. Now, let me show you the rest of The Firebrand.” His voice was soft, still in the flat, nasal accent that he had been using the day before. “Any objections.” His voice didn’t rise at the end, as it was not really a question.

“Lead the way,” said Duncan calmly.

Count Olaf lifted up the stained sheet, revealing a very narrow corridor with dark wood panels. A door stood just ajar enough for Isadora to see a cramped bathroom with a yellowed porcelain bowl and the green tank mounted high up on the wall with a chain dangling down. As her brother and her were ushered into the cramped hallway past the smelly “curtain”, she saw that there was another door.

“What’s in there?” asked Isadora.

Wordlessly, Count Olaf turned around and leaned forward to reach for the glass doorknob, and Isadora found herself holding her breath to prevent the stench of stale cigarettes radiating from her boss from overpowering her. The moment was brief, luckily. As Count Olaf drew back, Isadora could see the shadowy outline of a broom, a mop, a few buckets, a sink, and several cleaning products. Without the light in the closet on, she couldn’t be sure, but she was fairly confident that several items had spiderwebs and dust attached to them.

“You’ll find a lot of your supplies there,” Count Olaf said, boredly. He shut the door with a click.

The trio proceeded down the hallway, and with each step, the air seemed to grow hotter and stickier.

“This is the kitchen,” Count Olaf went on as they emerged into a steamy room. “It’s Friday, so the ladies are boiling the bagels they made yesterday and baking them.” He gestured around, though it was hard to see just what he was trying to indicate in the mist. “Once they’re done, you’ll clean the pots and tools, and whatever else those two tell you to clean.”

Isadora took a couple of hesitant steps forward. Squinting, she could make out the shape of an oven with a large vat on top of it. Several trays were on the counter, and even more had been piled up in the sink. Another couple of steps, and Isadora was able to make out the shape of sweaty, anemic bagels waiting to be boiled and baked sitting in trays on the countertop. With disgust, she took in the rest of the counter space in the kitchen that was occupied by at least a week’s worth of dirty mixing bowls, measuring cups, baking sheets, coffee cups, plates, and more, all stacked up so so precariously that Isadora wondered if her breath would send the whole messy pyramid crashing down to the floor. Or else one of the numerous flies that were buzzing around the sink would upset the whole balance.

“That’s a lot of bagels,” said Duncan, only a couple steps behind Isadora. “Do you really sell that many in a day?” The incredulity in Duncan’s voice was painfully obvious, but as they had never seen a customer here, it was impossible to avoid.

Count Olaf let out a sound that was halfway between a snort and scoff. “Of course not. People don’t come to The Firebrand for the bagels. They come for the coffee. No, we make batches of whatever type we’re running low on and then freeze them. Every night we leave a couple to defrost, and then the next morning you’ve got them ready for the four or five people who decide to order one. We do the same with the muffins. A batch of onion bagels can last us almost two weeks.”

Isadora frowned. “They can’t be particularly good.”

“No one comes here for the baked goods,” repeated Count Olaf. He motioned them to follow him further, and the steam began to clear, allowing the triplets to see a grey door. Rust trailed from each nail and facet, and something dark had been splattered across the front. Years of greasy handprints seemed to be smeared across the handle. “This is the refrigerator. You go in it to get to the freezer.”

“Where you keep the bagels and muffins,” said Duncan, as if he was still having trouble accepting the fact that everything baked fresh here wound up frozen.

“Oh, and scones,” remembered Count Olaf. “The twins made some scones a few weeks ago and we still haven’t sold all of them… we’ll have to defrost some for tomorrow.”

Duncan and Isadora exchanged looks of disgust at the thought of eating a weeks old scone.

The tour, unfortunately, continued as Count Olaf showed them a store room further down the hall. It was so packed with fragrant bags of coffee, boxes of tea, and the materials that were needed to make and serve them that the three of them had had to stand nearly shoulder to shoulder. As Count Olaf had gone on about his wares that people actually came for, Isadora had been aching to escape the cramped claustrophobic space. As soon as Count Olaf opened the door to the alleyway from the corridor Isadora wished that she were back in the aromatic cupboard.

Instinctively, Isadora held her nose. “What the-- what is that smell?” she asked, her stomach turning. She didn’t need to look too hard to find the source - a grimy and overflowing dumpster.

“Spoilt milk,” said Count Olaf lightly. “I would recommend holding your breath while you take the trash out, especially as the weather begins to warm up.” He stepped back inside the shop, and the triplets were all too eager to join him and shut the door behind them with a loud bang.

As the three of them went deeper into the back of The Firebrand, Count Olaf kicked along a cracked and stained ant trap, as if it were a stone and he were a young boy walking home from school. He even put his hands in his pockets as he spoke, “When you come in after school, business will be slow, but tomorrow morning when you come in, you will see what it’s really like here.”

With the safety of Count Olaf’s back to the two of them, Isadora and Duncan looked at each other.

‘Tomorrow?’ mouthed Isadora.

‘Sorry,’ said Duncan.

‘You owe me a Saturday morning.’

‘I know.’

Only Isadora didn’t catch what her brother was mouthing. Instead, she had stopped, staring at the wall past her brother. There had been many doors off of the hallway that ran the length of the coffee shop, and all of them bore scars and peeling paint that any old and not well kept building would have. This door, however, seemed to have been attacked. Splinters of unpolished wood stuck out from long, scraped out channels, as if a monster had dragged its claws down the top panel.

Duncan stopped beside her.

Before she could ask Duncan just what he thought had happened, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Isadora jumped and turned around to see Count Olaf glowering down at the two of them, his eyes shining even in the shadows of the hallway. “I think,” he said in a dangerously low voice that was almost like a rumble of thunder, “that it’s time you began your duties as employees.” He began to steer the triplets back towards the front of the coffee shop.

Knowing better than to protest, Isadora walked back the way they had came, dreading just what sort of task was waiting for them.

#Asoue #asoue fanfic #a series of unfortunate events #isadora quagmire #count olaf #my fic #the coffeeshop fire