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leftonraed · 4 years

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The Night We Met - Episode 2

pairing : Taehyung x OC genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au word count : 2.5k summary — You witness Taehyung and his niece’s relationship evolve and meet Hwiin.

Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7

The sun shines brightly this morning, even birds can be heard in the quiet apartment. Taehyung rolls over in his sleep and suddenly crashes on the floor in a heavy thud.

“Ow… What the-” He grumbles loudly, squinting an eye open to make sense of his surroundings right after the brutal awakening.

He slowly lifts himself on his hands and knees to look at the bed and notices Hina had invaded his already quite small part, they had agreed on, in her sleep.

“What even is that position?” He mumbles, now able to make her out in the dark room. Her tiny feet facing him as they twitch a little. Surely the way used to get rid of me, he thinks.

Taehyung stands up cautiously like an old person, massaging his hurting shoulder. His limbs are stiff and heavy with slumber but he resists the temptation of the warm sheets to get breakfast ready.

After a quick passage in the bathroom to freshen up, he walks in the kitchen and has the water in the kettle heating first. Music’s playing very softly from his phone while he prepares food consisting of soups, cooked rice, strawberries and other side dishes.

He’s busy setting the table when he hears noise coming from the dark corridor.

He looks up and stills, feeling his heartbeat picking up. The chopsticks slip from his hand at the scary sight before him.

A weird looking shape is carefully walking his way, wrapped in what he guesses as a thick blanket rendering the strange creature menacingly imposing.

Taehyung blinks his daze away as it comes to light.

“Oh,_____. Good morning,” he smiles lightheartedly. “I didn’t recognize you.”

You mutter something back, walking by him like he isn’t even there and head to the kitchen counter. He watches you reach for his cup.

“Wait, this i-”

You spit out the bittersweet drink, disgusted. “That’s not coffee,” you grunts confused.

“That’s a tea I make for my voice-” He trails, looking at the mess you’ve just made. He smiles again, “don’t worry I’ll clean that.”

“Bkjhn- coffee- skjvnjf- wait here.” You go sit on the nearest couch.

He stops mid-mopping to object but indirectly meets the threatening look of the scary blanket creature and simply nods.

Hina shows up a little after, hair sticking everywhere, and observes for a long time the interesting sight you offer.

When Taehyung eventually puts the lovingly prepared breakfast on the coffee table, he realises another blanket creature has made its appearance, looking quite adorable he must say.

_____________________________

Taehyung goes to answer the door when the doorbell rings.

Hwiin instantly meets his eyes, noticing right away how good-looking his complexion is. He looks rested and not so despondent anymore.

He smiles softly, “come in, don’t stay out there.”

She’s glad and for a second, she feels her heart warming up at his familiar appeal.

She snaps out of it and walks inside. It’s only been a week or so since her latest visit but his apartment looks nothing like before apart from the loud T.V.

Although the least that had to be shared had been summed up in an official announcement by the agency to explain Taehyung’s temporary retirement, they had all agreed on not wanting any media to share anything concerning directly or indirectly his brother’s death and keep a very low profile regarding Taehyung having Hina’s custody for as long as possible. This meant not to be seen out together, not to tempt any ill-intentioned stranger.

She trips on one of the toys laying around and catches herself by grabbing hold of his arm.

He doesn’t note the effect the sudden closeness has on her and bends down to take the toy away. He grunts, “sorry ‘bout the mess.”

She smiles awkwardly to herself while taking off her beanie and scarf when you eventually catch her eye.

“Who’s that?”

Taehyung glances your way in the living-room where you’re busy doing your fitness routine with Hina gazing at you closely and it pulls a grin from him.

“_______. Seojun’s replacement… Your savior.”

Hwiin stares at you too long for her own liking before turning around to frown at him. “What happened to him?”

“Family stuff.” He walks around the counter and takes a cup to pour some tea for her as he always does when she visits.

“And she lives here? With you?”

“I thought it’d be practical because I don’t really know what my schedule is these days. And she’s just moved to the city.”

She drops her handbag on the counter and sits on one of the stools. She lets the warmth of the cup heat her cold palms and waits for him to look away to get another glimpse at you that unintentionally turns into a subtle glare.

She can’t help but start to make assumptions about you while you’re stretching your fit body.

“She’s really into exercising,” she gets startled by his voice and can hear his grin and it makes her eyes roll. She turns back again. “I don’t know how she keeps doing that every morning.”

“Is that even… appropriate?” She trails, seeing a mental image of your revealing outfit. “I mean her living here doesn’t allow her to be unprofessional.”

He frowns a little at her, amused. If only she knew, he thinks. “I don’t really mind. Plus, if she can help keep Hina from turning into a couch potato...”

She remains silent and sips on her hot beverage as he tries to quickly change the subject.

“I’m almost done with the custody papers by the way. So we should get back to work in a short while.”

“It’s good to hear. The agency shared a couple of things about your activity for the next few weeks but nothing’s final.” She hesitates, “but are you… ready-ready?”

“I think I am. M’definitely in a better place. I think _____ helps a lot. She’s a breath of fresh air. And I think work will help me get out of my head.”

“Good.” Hwiin smiles half hearted.

“Oh, I think she’s done. Come, I’ll do the introductions.”

______________________________

The next day, Hwiin is back at the apartment with work papers and her laptop in her arms — now that Taehyung’s comeback is around the corner, she doesn’t want to waste any time. She frowns when she doesn’t recognize his voice behind the door.

“What was it again…” She hears mumbling followed by numerous electronic bips. The door unlocks and reveals yourself when you pull it back.

You stare blankly at her, a lollipop wedged against your cheek. “Yes?”

Hwiin doesn’t know what to say and frowns when you’re still not moving an inch. “Can I come in?”

“Who are you?” You ask right after.

“What do you mean “who am I”? We met yesterday.” She complains dumbfounded. “It’s me. Hwiin.”

She hears footsteps coming her way and you slam the door right before she gets to see anything.

“No, Hina. Go back,” she hears you order. “This is probably an intruder or a dangerous person.”

“What?” She exclaims to herself, an angry look directed at the door. “Let me in.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Where’s Taehyung?”

“He’s out.”

“What in the-” She mumbles to herself, fetching her phone in her purse very annoyed. She thumbs on his phone. “Taehyung, yes. Can you please tell your bodyguard that I’m not a threat and to let me in? Stop laughing!”

“Yes?” You answer again when she knocks.

“I have your boss on the phone, maybe he’ll convince you if you agree to speak to him.”

You open the door wide enough to take the device from her and close it again. Hwiin is tapping her foot impatiently. You eventually let her in and she snatches her phone from you while you stare at her with an unbothered look, still sucking your candy.

_______________________________

Later that day, dinner’s served.

“You shouldn’t force her,” you comment from your position at the end of the dining table.

Taehyung hasn’t had a moment to himself the second he’s come back from his running errands, from the long hours he’s spent with his manager to get updated to preparing dinner, and it didn’t take long for you to understand cooking isn’t his forte. You’re now witnessing his struggle to have Hina eat any of the food to no avail.

The little girl seems intent on draining him from the last remnant of energy left in his being. Taehyung wonders how he’d be able to put up with her when he goes back to working.

She refuses each of his attempts, twisting her neck one side or the other. This time around, he’s made sure not to have the plate too close to her so she wouldn't dirty him.

“She has to eat,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on his niece. “Come on, open your mouth.”

She kicks her legs the whinier his voice gets. When the spoon isn’t prodding her lips, she stretches her arms towards the plate in his hand.

“No hands.” He warns and moves the plate closer to him which has her writhing in her seat out of irritation.

The bubble gum bursts softly and shrivels on your lips. Face prompted in your palms, a thought crosses your mind. “Why don’t you let her use her hands?”

“I don’t want her to pick up some bad habits.”

You blink blankly at his profile. It’s obvious he’s getting tired but he only gets himself to blame.

“Just let her this one time,” you encourage.

Defeated, Taehyung unwillingly listens to you, positioning the plate on the table of the baby chair and her whimpers immediately stop.

“See? She just wants to feed herself, silly.”

Hina looks up to frown at him, points a tiny finger in his direction and repeats with a pout, “siwy!”

A silence falls right after, during which he stares at her, dumbfounded.

The spoon slips from his fingers. She uses her hand to grab the square-cutted vegetables from her plate. A glint of amusement wrinkles your eyes the longer you watch him.

“Hina! You just said your first word!” Taehyung exclaims at the little girl looking up with big round eyes, confused, and busy stuffing her small mouth.

You pinch your lips to stop yourself from smiling.

He flinches the next second and frowns at her, “wait, you shouldn’t call me that.”

He looks at you when he hears you giggle and falters a quick second. Taken aback by the pleasant sound, he realizes it’s his first time he sees you laugh. He likes hearing it.

He quickly goes back to scolding mode, “what are you laughing at? It’s your fault she did that.”

“I did nothing,” you trail, calming down and not feeling a bit regretful.

“Siwy!”

He whines flustered, “Hina, stop calling me that!”

________________________

You knew nothing about their relationship, except that he was her uncle and she lost her father. Right after Taehyung welcomed you in his home, you didn’t talk if you weren’t spoken to and simply lingered around when needed. You preferred to keep to yourself and not meddle but Taehyung seemed to lack when it comes to raising children or even just one.

He acts like he wants to succeed in everything and would feel miserable every time he’d think he failed. You have been hired to protect Hina if she needs to be out in his company but you also naturally want to assist and support him in your own way. After all, no one’s around to help and it’s not like Hwiin and Hina share affectionate bonds.

Taehyung’s watching T.V when you walk back in the living-room with his niece after her shower. Her refusal when he suggested he’d take care of it surprised him but he trusted you enough to let her have it her way. The little victorious smile you offered him left him flustered right after you’d closed the door in his face not to give him any time to react. He had no choice but to go rest and wait.

His eyes carefully rake your figure dressed in short shorts and a tight-fitted tank top from head to toe. He notices your hair’s wet and your braless breast and he blushes when mental pictures suddenly flood his mind.

Hina breaks his trail of embarrassing thought as she bounces her way and lunges on his lap, the flowery scent coming from her envelops him. She seems a lot more open around him already.

“You not tired, you?” He smiles lazily while she tries to climb in his lap. She shakes her head.

You go sit on the couch perpendicular to the one he’s sat on.

“Ow, ow,” his whimpers have you looking back at him. “You’re hurting me, Hina. Why are you so hyped right now? You're supposed to be in bed at this hour.”

He can’t help but feel a little confused having to put up with Hina’s unfamiliar behavior and your arousing presence.

Amused, you gaze at her pulling on his shirt to help herself stand up on his thighs and pinch his face as she whines her objection. You look away before he realizes you’re watching them.

It takes no more than ten minutes for her to show the first signs of somnolence. He lays her in his arms and stands up.

“Let’s put you to bed.”

She knuckles her eyes, “no- daddy…”

He looks panicked for a second and dares a quick glance your way but it seems like you haven’t heard her so he keeps walking to his bedroom.

Hina falls asleep a couple of minutes after he’s tucked her in. Taehyung isn’t sure about returning to the living-room. He’s come to enjoy being in your company but is afraid about you noticing the effect you have on him.

The lights and T.V are still on when he comes back and you’re still there but you’ve moved closer to his seat and laid on one side. He walks around the couch to sit near the armchair. He’s barely returned that he starts tapping the tips of his fingernails, thinking of a way to make conversation.

“She already asleep?” You yawn.

“Like a log,” he smiles and then there’s silence. “I’m happy, she is more comfortable but-”

“But?”

“I don’t know about her... calling me-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut him off sleepily and he looks at you. “Let her if she feels like doing so. Do you mind her doing it?”

“I don’t really know. I mean she’s like a daughter to me but I don't want her to forget about her dad.”

“She won’t. When she starts asking you, tell her. But for now, I think it’s best you just bring the love and comfort she needs. She needs familiarity in these times. She’ll make her own decision when she’s older. Much older. Give yourselves time. You’ll get even closer.”

“But my job will keep me from her.”

“Then make some time. From what I understood, you don’t want anyone to babysit and you’ll never get the life you had before. You have to find time if you want her to get close to you.” You meet his eyes. “And you should enjoy your moments together. Not torture yourself about the- “right” thing to do… because it doesn’t exist. You’re doing good.”

Taehyung thinks about your words but hasn’t quite the time to process them as you stand up and stretch.

“I feel sleepy…” You yawn. “Goodnight, Taehyung.”

“Goodnight.”

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#taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #Taehyung x oc #bts imagines #bts reactions

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arent-you-scared-lil-human · 4 years

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Bølger (1)

Merman!Kae x Reader.

Words: 2,245

bølger means waves.

The first time you saw a mermaid, it was a merman, his name was Eros and he was huge, his tail longer than your entire body but he was only 15, eight years maturer than you. Since your aunt always spoke greatly about the magical creatures you supposed that all of them were kind -minus goblins, they are never kind- each took you to the beach's sand nearing the waves.

Eros had light blonde hair, eyes bluer than the water surrounding him, and his sharp teeth alarmed you. He looked at you up and down and wondered why a human so small was reaching him.

But he wasn't one of the nice mermen your aunt mentioned, the brave creatures that protect the oceans, he was a spoiled boy, that didn't like any other species than his own. Humans being the most he dispised.

"Why do you stare at me?"

"You pretty." Your seven-year-old speech not being very sharp to contain all the right diction.

"Yes. I'm Eros, who are you?"

"Y/N."

As the waves were almost minimal you walked further in the water to reach him, to touch his gills, or attempt to catch his hair. Eros discerned your steps and with malice in his eyes, he reached you, his stature nearly the same as yours since he had to be lowered so his tail would remain in the ocean.

"You are not afraid of me?"

"Merfolk are good creatures, they protect the oceans."

"We do, and do you know who we protect the oceans from? I mean who we fight to maintain very far away?"

Remembering the time your aunt said of some species of birds that sink in the ocean to find fishes made you thoughtful, after all in summer it was more than twenty million birds catching fishes. "Birdies."

"No, humans. Your species."

"But we protect too, I and aunty Betty clean the beaches and never toss trash in water."

"Uhu, tell me, little human, would you like to see the ocean? To see the fishes that grace it and even dolphins?"

Dolphins didn't go to the land side you lived in, and you only ever saw dolphins on movies or documentaries.

"Dolphins?!"

He nodded so you jumped excited, ready to see the fishes and luckily the dolphins.

But Eros' idea was contrary, humans were nothing else than a virus slaughtering everything they reached, he knew by how much his grandfather said, that in a distant time ago the ocean was astonishing. It didn't have fallen boats, trash, sewers, nor industries discharging electronic garbage, much less the pharmaceutical ones pouring tons of medications in the water. So getting freed of a stupid human would maybe avoid a little bit more of destruction.

Extending his hand you held it and he pulled you with him a bit further in the water, your feet missed the sand's ground and you moved your little legs to manage to have air. Eros chortled before taking your body and pulling you down in the water, startled by the agile gesture you cracked your lips to gasp and lamented it when water began to fill your mouth.

He swam into the ocean making the beach farther from your, impossible, reach. Your small lungs were on fire when Eros approached a few of his friends, there stood Melin, Jaxi, and Kae. They were puzzled to see a human cub and swam up to the surface to reach the rocks near the mountains.

Eros rolled his eyes but accompanied them to reveal them his... toy.

"What do you think you are doing?" Kae was the first to speak up.

"This was stupid enough to swim alone in the beach over Walrey Coast, it even came to me telling tales." The mermen stared at your unconscious body.

"You cannot kill humans, you know that." Jaxi pointed and Eros rolled his eyes.

"What difference does it make? Our parents are always complaining about them!"

Melin was quiet but shot Eros a look, it was forbidden to hurt humans unless they hurt you.

And what a human cub would have done alone to hurt Eros? Since all of them were reaching puberty and were becoming stronger and faster? "Eros, you can't."

"Why is everyone bothering me with this? You know what. Done." He unfolded his arms and your body started to float backward in the water, Jaxi pulled you delicately to his chest and touched your neck before looking at Kae and giving a small nod signally that, even if weak, you still had a pulse. "You guys aren't considering of-"

"Killing an innocent cub is wrong, you know that, doesn't matter the species." Kae pointed.

Melin nodded and faced the rocks before glancing at Jaxi and Kae. "We can try to put the water out. It might not be different from saving a sea bear, we only have to press the stomach for them to spit the water."

Eros swam to Jaxi's side and pulled your moveless arm. "It is mine and will be killed and exhibited to our community." He closed his fist around your arm which made his nails pierce through your cold skin.

"She won't!" Kae affirmed and even Melin could spot a protective tone on his voice. "You'll go back and tell Ecthelion what happened, and that me, Jaxi and Melin are trying to save a cub that you tried to hurt."

Biting his tongue Eros looked at his three cousins before diving in the water and going to tell the colony elder. Kae gazed at the injuries and leaned to suck the blood of your wounds before it could touch the water and call any shark.

Kae retrieved his lips and placed his hand over -the less bleeding- wounds and told Jaxi to swim so they would follow.

Under the moonlight, Kae jumped in the rocks and made sure to only touch the polished parts so it wouldn't hurt his tail. Jaxi lifted you so Kae pulled you to his chest, and since you were smaller it was easier for him to fit you on his lap. Jaxi accompanied Kae by jumping in the rocks and touched your face trying to decipher if your color was a light purple or not. Melin dive in the sea to find some seaweed to place on your nails' cuts. It helped them with wounds so maybe it would help you too.

"Don't die now, human cub." Kae spoke and Jaxi touched your shirt taking it off to expose your belly, he ran his hand over the skin and looked at Kae. Human anatomy was different than polar bears.

Jaxi pressed and it only seemed to hurt you. "Here, hold her."

"Her?"

"It looks like a female right?" Kae asked.

"All of them seem the same when they are cubs."

Jaxi held your head on his lap while Kae extended your legs. He leaned and placed his hands over your chest and started to pump.

He looked at Jaxi and they analyzed the lack of gills. "They breath only through the nose." Taking a deep breath and letting an annoying sigh Jaxi cursed Ers under is breath.

Kae paid attention in the way the air left Jaxi's mouth and had an idea. "The mouth."

"What?"

Kae leaned to touch your lips with his and moved his hand carefully to open your lower lip. Realizing it was useless he reached your nose pressing it together and tried to suck the water out of you. Jaxi was surprised by the gesture but didn't understand how that would possibly work.

Getting his hands back at your chest he started to press and kept doing the gesture. "That won't take the water out. They won't-"

Spilling water out of your mouth you coughed with the burning feeling in your throat. Opening your eyes you gazed at the creatures touching you and you yelled completely scared. Kae moved his head by the loud sound but Jaxi shushed you. "We will not hurt."

Crying you started to try to get up. "You will. He did."

Kae sighed seeing that you remembered Eros, you winced and Kae looked up to see you were gazing at the arm's wounds caused by Eros' nails.

Kae placed his hand on your forehead and almost whimpered when you cried completely scared of him. "Sleep." He whispered and you dozed off.

Some merfolk were blessed with gifts, Kae happened to be one of them.

Melin appeared in the water surface by Jaxi's side and lifted some seaweed in his hands so Jaxi could place it on the cuts.

"They didn't wake up?" Melin asked and Kae stole two seaweeds and rolled it around your arm.

"She did but its too scared to hear us." Kae explained, doing his best to prevent his nails to hurt you, again.

Melin gave Jaxi a look and shared a thought when they realized Kae was too worried about your wounds and cold body.

"Kae, we should take them back-"

"Her." Kae corrected.

"Right, take her back. She is too cold and will die here."

Kae looked at them and back at you a couple of times before nodding, but before he could move your body to Melin's arms so he and Jaxi could get into the water and take you to your land, someone broke in the surface.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ecthelion spoke and the young mermen looked at the eldest from their village.

"Eros explained to you?"

"Yes, and i want to know why this human cub is still here."

"Eros hurt her, pierced her skin with his nails and we tried to prevent the blood to call the sharks."

The wise creature understood their point and moved his hand so Kae could place you in Melin's arms and reach him.

They did so and while Melin swam to Ecthelion's reach, Kae and Jaxi jumped in the water.

Ecthelion tasked as he felt your body temperature. He touched your forehead and mumbled ancient words.

Feeling protective of you and afraid that Ecthelion was sacrificing you, Kae reached your body and touched your forehead, prevent that the magic could reach your skin before touching his own. Melin and Jaxi felt anxious about the gest, Kae was the more peaceful of the cousins and the way he was intervening in something that the Ecthelion was doing was unusual.

"You will kill her?"

Gazing at Kae's hand and protective stance, he retrieved his hand and checked your body temperature again. "No, i am making her forget."

"Why? There are thousands of humans that know about us. She isn't like those thieves that tried to sell us."

Kae was decided, all of them could see that. "I know, but she was hurt by us. What do you think it'll happen when she tells her family about it? Or what her people will do if she tells them that merfolk are getting young children and killing them for fun?"

Jaxi cursed Eros under his breath. "They won't think this, it was only Eros that hurt her, we helped." Jaxi explained.

"She is a cub, she won't be able to recognize the difference. For our sake and hers, give me space." Melin touched Kae's shoulder and the young merman swam away allowing Ecthelion to work in your memories.

Seeing a light blue smoke touched your forehead, the old merman retrieved his hand and called the boys to hold you. "Take her home, I'll tell in the docks across there what happened, so Tony can find her and take her to their healers. Go, she doesn't have much time." Kae pulled your body to his and watched as Ecthelion dive in to warn his human friend that lived in the docks about you.

Jaxi touched your arm, which got Kae's attention. "Come on, she doesn't have much time."

Accepting the departure Kae dive in and they swam fastly till they reached Walrey Coast.

There Kae went further he could reach, trying to place you in the dry sand, but his tail would get hurt if he pressed it to harshly so he extended his hand and neared you in the wet sand, the waves still touched it but your nose was safe from water and by the car lights in the distance, he knew your kind was coming to reach you.

He looked behind his shoulders and saw Melin and Jaxi farther and since their eyes weren't focused on him, he took that advantage to kiss your forehead. "Bye, little human. I hope Neptune will keep you safe, and if I'm lucky enough, we will see each other again."

A car stopped and a man with a uniform came running, Kae turned back and swam before they could see him.

In a distance, he reached the surface and watched as they pulled you out of the water, a small golden ring falling from your finger, Kae felt sad that you lost such pretty thing, a cloth was placed around you and the humans ran away to save your life.

Finally, when the car left Kae had to swim in his previous spot where he have left you to search for the ring, duo his better vision it didn't take too long for him to find it.

Kae held the small thing that only served in his pinky. He held the golden bijou and went home.

Sad that you forgot about him, he hopes Neptune will hear his prayers and that he will find you again.

One day.

🧜🏻‍♂️

#monster x reader #male monster x female reader #merman x reader #kae

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loominggaia · 3 years

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“Okay New York Anon here. I’m really sorry about this chapter and regret writing it, the way i did. Thinking about it post production I’m realizing I made it come off as transphobic and tasteless. Angry guy was supposed to be a parody of the stereotypical sjw you’d see in a cringe comp violently going off on people for accidentally being mis gendered. Sorry if this train wreak of a chapter offends anyone.”

Anon, I’m so honored that you would spend the time to write fanfiction about my series. Not everyone is a perfect writer (I’m sure not), and personally I don’t believe that every piece of writing has to “set a good example” when it comes to politics and morality. The Looming Gaia series is for ages 18+, not preschoolers. I think adults have the mental capacity to differentiate between right and wrong and form their own opinions when they’re reading something (at least I hope they do), so I’m going to go ahead and post your story.

But I also care about my followers’ well-beings, so I’m going to compromise and: 1) Put this chapter under a cut so they don’t have to see it if they don’t want to. 2) Put a content warning ahead of it so they can decide if it’s worth the risk.

If anyone proceeds from here and gets offended, that’s 100% their own fault. I care a lot about writing an inclusive series that doesn’t alienate anyone based on race, gender, sexuality, and so on. At the same time, I’m hugely against censorship, so I always welcome fan content even if it’s off-color or I don’t personally agree with what it’s trying to say (barring anything illegal or blatantly hateful towards any group; i.e. glorification of pedophilia or abuse, calls to real-world violence, supporting real-world hate groups, etc. I will never accept that kind of content. If anyone comes in here praising nazi ideaologies or calling for action against LGBT folks, they can fuck right off.)

Readers, you’ve been thoroughly warned.

You can read the other parts here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: This fan content contains scenes of captivity, mental hospitals, depictions of violence, off-color depiction of a transgender individual, and (censored) racial slurs. While reading this, I personally didn’t get the impression that Anon meant any harm. It comes off as goofy, edgy, over-the-top satire to me, like something you’d see in an episode of South Park. Use your best judgement and proceed at your own risk.

(content under cut)

The crew had squatted in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city that night. They already knew that only humans existed in this world and the reaction that lady had to seeing Elska only compounded the need for stealth. Their only plan right now being find Evan and get back to Gaia. That morning the crew split up, Alaine and Lukus where to continue searching for Evan, Issac and Jeimos where to go shopping, Elska would search the outskirts out of sight and Zeffer would search at night.

Evan was not mad at doctors for keeping him hear. He knew they where just doing their jobs and where concerned for him, since magic, elves and werewolves where fictional to them he understood he looked like a crazy person to them. That didn’t take away from how annoying it was to be trapped here in this stupid hospital. Knowing his crew was out their somewhere he knew he needed to leave and contact them somehow, he needed a escape plan.

He had two plans so far, plan A was to butter up the therapist into letting him go. Behave himself, take his meds, admit Gaia’s not real and say he’s feeling better. Hoping that upon seeing this drastic improvement the therapist will approve his release and he can finally go out and find his friends. Plan B was in case plan A failed. He would bust himself out of here and go on the run. He really didn’t want to hurt anybody, just slip out unnoticed, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

Issac and Jeimos wandered around the city streets aimlessly in absolute awe of the sights and sounds all around them. Jeimos was getting more unnerved by not being capable of feeling any magic in their surroundings and was starting to wonder if it was just all the iron nearby or something more? Not being able to read any of the signs around them made trying to find a store to stock up on supplies difficult. Finding a food place with golden arch’s they go their as their first stop.

The pair enter this strange restaurant, the place smelling of grease and fry oil. Theirs quite the line so they just wait, taking a look around and absorbing the experience. They see a lot of interesting people and things from pictures of a clown holding a burger, groups of people on strange devices and messy families eating, an extremely obese man the two mistook for a troll horking down a massive pile of greasy food. Kids running in and out of a indoor jungle gym. This place had it all.

They waited their turn almost at the register, waiting behind a mother and her kids who kept changing her order every three seconds and trying to corral her kids. The cashier, a young man around issacs age but with a tired, dead look in his eyes that made him look as if he’s seen a war zone rang the lady up and ushers our pair to the register, asking in a flat, apathetic voice what they would like to order. Neither of them can read the electronic menu so using the numbers and pictures they order

The disgruntled cashier rang them up, totaling their order up to over $55! Him not being pleased by Jeimos’s constant questions and issac playfully asking for a kids toy. They try to pay, placing some gold coins on the counter. The cashier just looks at the coins then back to them, and, in an even more annoyed voice, told them they only take usd, not foreign currency. Telling them they can either pay in cash or card or just leave, the line was building up behind them and getting restless.

Jeimos trying to salvage this, nervously ask if theirs anything they can work out. Not wanting to have wasted their time. The cashier breaths deeply, saying he’ll get the manager, leaving the counter behind. The people in line are angrily starting at the two, Issac having a ball and Jeimos being highly uncomfortable with all the staring and swearing from them. The cashier returns with a fat, sleezy looking middle age man, presumably the manager. Him asking what’s going on here?

The cashier explains the situation in his most annoyed, apathetic tone with the manager glancing over the two. He repeats what the cashier told them, they only take usd and if they can’t pay then just leave, their clogging up the line. Jeimos try’s to explain this is all they have and is about to give up when Issac speaks up and tells them the coins are solid gold. That catch’s the managers attention, who in a greedy smile picks up the coins to check, seeing yes, their real gold!!!

His greedy smile grows wider and he tells them they can understand work something out! Snatching up the gold coins and apologizing for the inconvenience, talking about his no good employees and starts berating the cashier right in front of them for being “rude and unhelpful” to such fine paying customers! The cashier takes one look at his boss, takes off his hat and apron shoving them into his bosses hands and just says, completely monotone “I quit” and walks out without a second glance.

Meanwhile, Lukus and Alaine where walking down the streets through the massive crowds looking for any sign of Evan. Despite trying to keep a low profile they where gathering a lot of attention, walking through down town in medieval armor and brandishing weapons tends to do that. While walking outside a storefront Alaines eyes are caught by a beautiful blue dress, he being mesmerized by. “Nice cosplay” she hears suddenly from behind, Turing around to see a short, well dressed women behind her.

Alaine jut awkwardly thanks her for the compliment. The women also compliments Alaines scales, believing them to be a make up design for whatever cosplay she’s doing. The women introduces herself as Kimi and ask if she was looking at that dress in the window. Alaine answers yes and now both are both gawking at and gushing over the dresses beauty. Kimi complaining about the ludicrously high price tag but before their conversation can continue Lukus calls back to her, wondering where she is?

Alaine snaps back on into mission mode as Lukus returns. She apologizes to Kimi for leaving and tells her their looking for someone, asking if she’s seen a large blonde man with a metal leg. She says no but wishes them luck on trying to find their friend. The two head off once again search the city streets for Evan and once again have no luck, it didn’t help that a lot of people where stopping them, asking for photos of their “costumes” and asking what characters their dressed as?

After hours of searching and coming up empty handed both where rather hungry. Stopping at a cafe looking place to grab a quick bite. The place smelled of coffee and a sign outside had a picture of a twin tailed mermaid on a green background. As they where waiting in line observing all the weird people around them they saw a familiar face ahead of them, Kimi. She had a coffee in her hands and was thanking the barista but didn’t see them. Neither did she see the weird guy she bumped into.

The guy she bumped into looked ridiculous to Alaine and Lukus, having fluorescent pink cloths, big goofy glasses and a oversized beanie I’ve this colorful hair. The guy yelled at her to watch where she’s going, she apologized but then she said sir. The pair could already sense this guy would be trouble as the moment kimi said “sir” it looked as if the weird guys was about to explode. SIR!!! He screamed, grabbing everyone’s attention, his face beat red and eyes bulging in rage!

To say he exploded on Kimi would be an understatement, he started loudly screaming at her “ did you just misgender me”!!! The screaming got even louder as he started listing off a bunch of gibberish and loudly insulting her, calling her sexist, anti-lgbt, telling to kill herself and die in a hole. His screaming getting more incoherent and seemed to be literally frothing at the mouth. Kimi was just backing away, scared and trying to apologize but the guy just kept screaming over her plea’s.

(Feel like I need to put a trigger warning for this one so here it is. Trigger warning for Lukus and Alaine getting in a fight with ‘that kind’ of trans guy, the kind responsible for all the negative stereotypes about the trans community. And Issac being called a racial slur. You have been warned.)

Alaine and Lukus stepped in to stop this dude from hurting Kimi. He seriously looked like he was about ready to punch her. They stepped in and tried to diffuse the situation, putting themselves between kimi and the angry man. They try to explain to him that how could she have known he wasn’t cis, that’s it’s an honest mistake and to let it slide. That only seemed to pissed him off more as he threw a drink in Alaines face and shoved Lukus in anger, wrong move.

Just as Lukus was winding up a punch Alaine beat him to it, knocking the asshole clean to the floor in a single strike. He went down like a sack of potato’s and was laying out cold. The three just left, taking Kimi and leaving. Alaine was fuming but if she where calmer she would have noticed it was water he threw at her, and would have also noticed she didn’t flop to the floor in her aquatic form, she was too pissed off the notices.

Kimi thanks them for saving her from that crazy guy and try’s frantically to explains to them she’s pro-lgbt, always try’s to respect peoples pronouns and is actually a lesbian herself. They cut her off, she didn’t need to explain herself to them. On the flip side Jeimos and Issac are carrying back their huge bags of fast food back to the groups hideout waiting to hear any news. Issac see’s a downed old man and the street and rushed to help him.

Just as Issac was reaching out to help him the old man swats him away, screaming at him. “Keep your hands off me you filthy N@$$#r”! Heads turn and people stop dead in their tracks in pure shock at what they just heard. Issac and Jeimos had no idea what that weird word meant but it guessing by the crowds reaction, it was really bad. The old man gets himself up and goes off on a racist rant, accusing Issac of trying to steal from him, calling all his “kind” low-life scum and just screams at him.

First of all Anon, your depiction of working at a fast food place is a whole-ass mood and I felt it lol. I’m interested to see what role this character Kimi plays! Maybe she has ties to the hospital? Seeing the crew clash with real-world culture is very interesting. I’m enjoying their adventure so far. TO BE CONTINUED…?

#fanfic #looming gaia

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skippyv20 · 4 years

Text

💜💜🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON,……… laugh and carry on……… isolation desperation ……… W&K leapfrog ……… not jaw jaw …… pseudo Trudeau ……… re-distribution …………” just scrapping by ,sausage” ……… LA NA. ……… gizza job……… ahhhhh’ the ubiquitous tape……… brotherly shove ………… “ the tour will proceed” ………… Diamond Dogs……… 🦂🦂🦂………… twice shy

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

RIDDLE #171

January 16/2020

1835 hrs CST

laugh and carry on

THE ROYAL FAMILY MOTTO HAS BEEN KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON. LIKE A DUCK SERENELY FLOATING ON THE WATER, BUT UNDERNEATH ITS PADDLING LIKE MAD. NOW WITH ALL OF MADAM’S MACHINATIONS AND PHOTOSHOPPING GAMES ONGOING, BESIDES EXPLODING WITH ANGER OR BREAKING DOWN IN TEARS, LAUGHING IS THE BEST RESPONSE. SHE! HATES!🤬🤬🤬🤬BEING! LAUGHED!AT! THERE IS NOTHING MORE A TRUE NARCISSIST LOATHES IS NOT BEING TAKEN SERIOUSLY AND LAUGHED AT. SO PLEASE KEEP THE FUNNY POSTS AND SUBMISSIONS COMING. WE MUST CARRY ON WITH OUR LIVES. IF YOU FEEL CONSUMED STEP AWAY BECAUSE THAT IS GIVING HER YET ANOTHER VICTIM. LAUGH AT HER!

isolation desperation

MADAM HAS GOTTEN EXACTLY WHAT SHE WANTED, ALMOST. SHE WANTS PERMANENTLY RID OF ANY ROYAL DUTIES BUT STATES WANTS FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣SHE HAS NEVER HAD THIS HER WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN ABOUT USING OTHERS OR USING HER BODY FOR MONEY. IT PHYSICALLY SICKENED ME TO SEE HER , A DECLARED FEMINIST, BE SO MISOGYNISTIC AND USE WOMENS SHELTERS OR AT RISK WOMEN CENTRES FOR HER OWN PR AND MERCHING REASONS. GOD SEES YOU RACHEL, HE KNOW THE BLACKNESS IN YOUR SOUL, I SAID I WAS NOT GOING TO PLEAD WITH YOU TO REACH OUT TO GOD BUT I DO , REACH OUT AND RID YOURSELF OF IT! SHE IS SO DESPERATE TO REMAIN RELEVANT AND IN THE TABLOIDS SHE IS DOING ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING, ALL THE WHILE MERCHING AND USING VULNERABLE CANADIAN WOMEN. PEOPLE ARE LIVID!

W&K leapfrog

LEAPFROG IS A SET OF ELECTRONIC INTERACTIVE CHILDRENS BOOKS AND TOYS, EXTREMELY LEARNING BASED AND POPULAR. I THINK THEY USED THE NAME FROM THE OLD CHILDREN’S GAME OF LEAPFROG,WHERE YOU CROUCH AND HOP OVER THE PERSON CROUCHED AHEAD OF YOU. IT WAS GREAT FUN. USING THE JUMP OVER EFFECT, THEY HAVE LEAPFROGGED OVER MADAM IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. I THINK THERE IS AN INSTAGRAM GAME, I JUST CHECKED AS OF RIGHT NOW THE SUSSEXES HAVE 10.8 MILLION FOLLOWERS AND THE CAMBRIDGES, DRUMROLL PLEASE HAVE 10.9 MILLION.FOLLOWERS. THEY HAVE LEAPFROGGED OVER. WITH A NORTH AMERICAN ROYAL TOUR WITH THE CHILDREN, THAT WILL EXPLODE!!! RIBBIT RIBBIT 🐸 🐸 🐸 🐸 🐸 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣

not jaw jaw

JAW JAW, SEEING THAT REMINDS ME OF THE MUCH MALIGNED JAR JAR BINKS CHARACTER IN STAR WARS. ANNOYING AT FIRST I GREW TO KIND OF LIKING HIM. SERIOUSLY JAW JAW MEANS TO YAMMER ON TALK AT LENGTH , LONG WINDED, POLITICIANS FOR EXAMPLE. THE BARD, “FULL OF SOUND AND FURY SIGNIFYING NOTHING” OF INTEREST, I FOUND THIS QUOTE, YOU KNOW ME YOU GET DINNER AND A SHOW WITH EACH INTERPRETATION 🤣🤣😂😂😂

To jaw-jaw is always better than to war-war. ATTRIBUTION: WINSTON CHURCHILL, remarks at a White House luncheon, June 26, 1954. His exact words are not known, because the meetings and the luncheon that day were closed to reporters, but above is the commonly cited version.

SO HMTQ IN HER BRILLIANCE, DESPITE ALL IN FLAMES ABOUT HER, USING PEACEFUL MEASURE STEALTHILY AS WE HAVE SEEN THIS WEEK. MADAM NATTERS ON AND ON, HMTQ SAYS LITTLE BUT OH HOW POWERFUL THE CHOICE OF THOSE WORDS WERE. WELL DONE YOUR MAJESTY.

pseudo Trudeau

OUR PM , FOR ALL HIS FAULTS, IS LOVED BY MILLIONS WHO LOVE HIS FATHER THE SAME DESPITE HIS. PSEUDO IS FALSE. IS OUR PM AND CREW APPEARING TO GO ALONG WITH ALL THIS AT THE REQUEST ON HMTQ AND TO EMBARGO OR NOT BE PUBLIC ABOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE USUAL POLITE CANADIAN STYLE!! HE AND SOPHIE ARE OUR POWER COUPLE AND MADAM HAS WORMED HER OR SOMETHING ELSED HER WAY TO THE HIGHEST ECHELONS OF CANADIAN SOCIETY.

re-distribution

DOES THIS REFER TO HER PATRONAGES AND CHARITIES BEING SPREAD OUT, REDISTRIBUTED AMONGST THE OTHER SENIOR ROUALS, I AM CERTAIN AS SHE HAS VOICED HER WISH TO NOT LIVE OR WORK, 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣, WORK IN THE U.K. I AM CERTAIN THERE IS A GRAND PARTY AMONGST THE THEATRE COMMUNITY OVER BEING RID OF HER AS THEIR PATRON.

just scrapping by ,sausage”

I KNOW SAUSAGE IS PP PET NAME FOR HMTQ BUT I KNOW THIS IS NOT HMTQ JUST SCRAPING BY. IT IS AN INSULT TO MADAM, LIKELY BY PP, TO HER BEING BROKE AND HAVING TO MERCH AND HEAVEN KNOWS IF SHE HAS ACSUGAR DADDY GIVING HER MONEY.

LA NA.

LA IS LOS ANGELES NA IS NOPE. SO SHORT AND SWEET, NO LA FOR NOW!

gizza job

IN THE UK AND SCOTLAND EVERYTHING AND NAMES ESP WERE CHANGED TO A Z SOUND. EXAMPLE MY FRIEND KAREN WAS CALLED KAZ, HARRY HAS BEEN CALLED HAZZA YOU GET IT. GIZZA MEANS GIVE US A JOB, MEANING MADAM NEEDS MONEY AND SHE NEEDS A WAY TO GET A LOT IF IT. SHE IS COMPLETELY UNQUALIFIED FOR ANY WORK SO LETS NOT THINK FURTHER HOW SHE WILL GET WHAT SHE WANTS.

ahhhhh’ the ubiquitous tape

THIS HAS ARISEN AGAIN, ITS BEEN TALKED SBOUT SO MUCH AT ONE POINT WILL IT BE MADE PUBLIC? I AM CERTAIN IT WILL BE WHEN IT CAN DO MAXIMUM DAMAGE TO MADAM AND MINIMUM FOR TO CROWN IF IT IS EVER RELEASED.

brotherly shove

IS WILLIAM GIVING HARRY A SHOT IN THE ARM SO TO SPEAK? HELPING HIM WITH THIS LONG TERM PLAN AND DELAYING HIS LEAVING WITH CONTINUED PUBLIC ENGAGEMENTS? I AM ASSUMING BEHIND THE SCENES THERE IS A LIT IF BROTHERLY COMMUNICATION GOING ON.

“ the tour will proceed”

THE OFFICIAL GO AHEAD FOR THE CAMBRIDGES TO TOUR CANADA! MARVELLOUS!! THIS IS SO EXCITING, I WONDER IF THEY WILL STOP BY MINE??😁😁😁😁 I ALSO WONDER IF AMERICA IS INCLUDED?

Diamond Dogs

KNOWING MM ANONS LOVE FOR HIM I HAVE NO DOUBT SHE IS REFERRING TO WIKI

Diamond Dogs is the eighth studio album by the English musician David Bowie, released on 24 May 1974 by RCA Records. Thematically, it was a marriage of the novel Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell and Bowie’s own glam-tinged vision of a post-apocalyptic world. Bowie had wanted to make a theatrical production of Orwell’s book and began writing material after completing sessions for his 1973 album Pin Ups, but the author’s estate denied the rights.[2] The songs wound up on the second half of Diamond Dogs instead where, as the titles indicated, the Nineteen Eighty-Four theme was prominent. End wiki. SORRY KIDS IT SAVES MY HANDS TYPING.

SO EYES ARE ON MADAM 24/7/366 AS THIS IS LEAP YEAR. GIVEN THE CIRCLES SHE TRAVELLED IN, IN THE MISSING YEARS , CANADA AND MARRIED INTO, I HAVE NO DOUBT SHE IS ON THE RADAR OF THE FIVE EYES AND MI6. SHE REPRESENTS A CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER TO THE MONARCHY, ALONG WITH ALL IF HER BACKERS!

🦂🦂🦂

Lobster 🦞 is this, lobsters mate for life. These are 🦂 scorpions, three of them. SCORPION STINGS ARE EXTREMELY PAINFUL AND TOXIC. HERE WE HAVE THREE SCORPIONS POISED AND READY TO ATTACK, WHO DO THEY REPRESENT?

THE MOS/DAILY MAILY LAWSUIT IS 🦂 NUMBER ONE. TM, DADDY DEAREST IS 🦂 NUMBER TWO. THE COURT JUSTICES, LUMPED TOGETHER ARE 🦂 NUMBER THREE. THEY ARE CLOSE TO THE PATERNITY DECISION AND ANNULMENT OR DIVORCE. I TRULY BELIEVE SOMETHING HAPPENED AT CABADA HOUSE TO MAKE HER SWEET AND ILLICIT THAT SMILE AND THIMBS UP FROM HARRY!!

twice shy

HERE WE HAVE TWICE SHY AGAIN, I WENT THROUGH THE WHOLE ONCE BITTEN TWICE SHY EXPLANATION JUST A FEW DAYS AGO I THINK. HARRY COMING TO CANADA IS BEING DELAYED BY TODAYS RUGBY AND NEXT WEEK HE HAS HIS ROYAL DUTIES. SO HE WAS BITTEN NOW TWICE SHY TO RETURN TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR MADAM.

1950 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Fantastic! Thank you PG! We so appreciate this! Sounds good!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

#Ask Skippy #submission

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beyoncesdragon · 4 years

Text

A little help, a little love (Harry Styles)

Requested: yes, on my wattpad :)

Warnings: language as per usual

a/n: the one you can find on my wattpad has a slightly different ending, so if you coincidentally read that other one first, maybe give this a try too! I actually wrote this ending first, but somehow decided I would rewrite the whole thing #3amthoughts.

My Masterlist this can be found on my Wattpad

(Gif found on Pinterest)

The smell of green tea and cookies hit my nose when I opened the door to the Shangri-La studios. Harry must be really upset with the song…green tea and cookies had always counted as a distressing sort of ritual Harry and I had practiced, when one of us was seriously stressed out. Though, we had not been able to sit down for tea and talk in a while, due each of our jobs.

Being a singer and songrwriter and traveling around the globe had been both of our dreams since little, but now actually living that life had made us drift apart inevitably. Harry and I had met way back in first grade, when I moved in just next to his house. I had been the new one for quite a while, not immediately hitting it off with Harry. Not that we disliked each other, more because he had his friends and he was a boy and I was new and a girl. That was why, apart from both of us being in the state of utter disgust about the other sex, we had seen no business in talking to each other. I had then quickly found my own people and so we coexisted for quite a while, before we both discovered our shared passion for music and especially, for Fleetwood Mac. That was in maybe sixth grade…we were eleven that time.

From that moment on, we had suddenly spent several afternoons together, talking about music and listening to different kinds. When Harry had joined the school band White Eskimo, he had started to teach me how to play guitar and I had taught myself how to play bass. I remember being quite butthurt when one of his friends and former bandmember “Joshie” refused to let me join the band, even though they were indeed short of a bass player.

Just a few years later, Harry had auditioned for the X-Factor…and the rest was probably written down in historybooks. For me however, had started a rather difficult time as I struggled to find something that I would enjoy doing for living. This frustrating phase of my life had resulted in me writing songs about it and uploading them on YouTube – from where I got soon discovered by the record label Colombia Records. Maybe, and I still haven’t gotten clarity over it, Harry helped with that a little bit. But he refused to say something about it, to this very day.

Whilst he had then toured with One Direction, I had started to produce my own music and also write. I learned several different instruments during that time, adding the piano and keyboard, drum kit and even a little tiny bit of violin to the bass and guitar.

During that whole time, when my career finally took off completely and Harry’s seemed to rise out of sight, he and I had remained close friends. Not the closest of friends, due already mentioned schedule, but as close as possible. However, now that Harry went solo for quite a while, we had seen each other a bit more often – albeit that ended when he went on tour again. Though, we had had a show together, London I believe it was. For both of our fans that hadn’t been too much of a surprise since it was widely known that we were good friends.

And now he already was at his second album and for that, he had called me. Sounding close to devastated on the phone, he had confessed that he couldn’t manage to finish a single song, and that he was even further from writing a new one. So I had decided to pay him a visit in the famous Shangri-La studios where he was recording his album at the moment.

And there I was, slipping out of my shoes and taking off my pair of Sunglasses I had out on because of paparazzi that had unfortunately gotten wind of my visit in the states. Harry had left the gate and door open for me to just walk in, promising that he would be alone in the studio so I wouldn’t have to feel awkward when walking in.

“Harry?” I called out. Hearing how the faint melody of someone playing guitar stopped.

“Princess? Is that you?” I grinned at the pet name and walked towards the direction I meant it coming from. “It is. Where are you?” in this second, the door almost behind me got ripped open and I jumped slightly.

“There you are…how’s the world’s favourite curly doing?” he grinned softly before wrapping his arms around me.

“Terrible. I can’t write music anymore, I am a failure and I don’t deserve to be here.” I laughed into the fabric of his shirt, enjoying the warmth of his hug. “Bullshit m’love. I am sure we can fix this.” He just hummed, staying in the embrace for a little longer, before then stepping away. “Gods know how I’ve missed ye…” he said, and the small, dimply smile he gave me, stole a beat of my heart. “Missed you too Harry. A lot. We should drink tea more often.” I said with a smirk, looking up at him. He hummed in agreement before softly nudging me inside the studio. I let my eyes wander over the variety of instruments and the huge control-panel.

“In-fucking-sane.” I said with a grin and he laughed. “I know right? And despite all of this…” he dramatically pointed at the equipment, “am I not able to produce anything that is anyhow acceptable and I am ashamed.” I laughed and walked over to him, just to wrap my arms around his waist one more time.

“Don’t be. Where is the problem? Or shall we first do the tea part…?” he gave me a soft pout and nodded, carefully dragging me to the little couch area in the corner of the studio.

Someone – Harry – had set up a large tea pot of steaming green tea and a jar of still warm cookies next to it. He dropped down on the couch, immediately pouring some of the tea into two tea cups. I sat down on a fluffy chair on the other side of the table, giving him a thankful smile.

“Thank you H. How’ve you been apart from the writing?” he shrugged slyly, pouring himself a cup of tea. “The thingy with Camille, but I told you about that…” I pulled a face.

“Yeah that was nasty. Anything going on apart from that, of which I don’t know?” he shrugged, before shaking his head slowly. “I have really just been writing songs and making music ever since. Which is why this whole damn…thing is so frustrating.” I could only chuckle, carefully placing the cup down. “Then let’s not sulk around any longer. I can’t drink a proper tea with a man in a fuss.” he got up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me a few inches off the ground.

“As you command my lady. What do you want to do first?” I yelped at him lifting me up, not really liking the loss of control I experienced at the moment. “I’d start with you letting me down, you annoying asshole. Then, show me a few of your songs you have already written and produced.” Harry obeyed, quickly pressing a kiss on my cheeks before walking over to the computers.

“First one is called Fine Line. I think you will like it, it’s a very…raw song, kinda. You will understand. Ready?” I nodded quickly, sitting down on the chair in front of the control panel.

The song was beautiful, soft and simple and it made my heart bleed, though at the same time it healed it. Harry had faced the ground during the whole six minutes or such, the light from the large windows only hitting one side of his face. It made his eyes shine in two different shades of green: one in a light, with brown and gold specked lime and the other in a dark olive. My eyes trailed further down to the bridge of his nose and to his cupids bow. He had his lips pressed together, making them appear white. From time to time he relaxed them, causing the blood that rushed back, to colour them in a deep raspberry pink. He was just…beautiful.

And talented, Fine Line was a master piece. “How’d ye like it?” he asked carefully, looking up to me again. “I absolutely loved it. What number of songs do you want the album to have?” Harry’s face relaxed slightly before he shrugged.

“I will probably get twelve on the album again…I am toying with the thought of making it the last track of the album.” I nodded instantly. “Yes. That’s brilliant…you’d end the album with “We’ll be alright” then…I absolutely love that.” He grinned proudly.

“Then track #12 it is. Ready for the next one?” I nodded quickly, leaning back again and closing my eyes whilst Harry clicked play for the next song. When I opened them again at the end of the track, I caught him staring at me. “Like what you see?” I teased cheekily and he shook his head with a grin.

“I love it.” I could only smile about that. “How was that one?” he then asked after a minute of silence. “I liked it. ‘Suppose it’s called “She”? or did I get that mixed up?” he grinned, shoving me off playfully. “Yeah it is. Those are the only ones I haven’t sent you…Adore you, Golden, She, Cherry…you’ve heard them all, right?” He then said with a shrug and I nodded. “I have. Even Watermelon sugar by the way. Then which one is the problematic child of yours?” he sighed softly, switching the track.

“That one. I already planned it to be one of the singles to be released, I know the name I know how I want the visuals to look like but…the song itself is one big…construction site.” I nodded slowly. “Play what you already have.” He obeyed wordlessly, starting the snippet of the song. It started with a slow crescendo, an electronic sound mixed with a simple guitar chord. i was surprised by the sudden drums, positively however. Harry’s voice sounded a bit different than before. More hoarse, more scratchy and still very soft and gentle. I nodded slowly with the beat of the song. It was good…but something missed. The refrain started to play, a guitar more provisionally playing a few chords before Harry started with an idea of a strong vocal, not the full blow he could manage to sing. I stopped the song with a quick gesture.

“I really like how the song builds up so far…though I don’t like the guitar with the bridge. It’s not…powerful enough. A guitar is more…plucking and way too playful. We got to replace this…” I started and Harry nodded slowly. “You are right. What would you insert there? A…violin?” I giggled softly and shook my head. “Piano, keyboard, something like that. No more strings Harry!” he grinned, helping me up.

“Then there you go. Do your magic.” I shove him away lovingly, walking over to the set up keyboard, and turning it on. “Okay…play it again please…” and so we started, he played the song and I tried to follow the melody in a soft and easy way, without taking the attention off Harry’s soft voice. And that we did, again and again.

Two hours had passed since we started, the sun had started to set and I was sure that I could sing every lyric in my sleep. But we finally finished it…and I loved the song. Harry and I had ended up with the piano mixed softly with a little bit of guitar and he had added some more percussion. A thing I had done as well, a simple djembe had done the job.

“I feel like…something is still missing somehow.” Harry confessed sheepishly, giving me an innocent look. “What? Spill Harry, you know I won’t be weirded out.” I replied with an eye roll. My feet were drawn up to my chest and I sat on the swivel chair in front of the console again. Harry, who stood behind the chair so we would both have a good look on the screen grinned, before softly wrapping his arms around me. “I don’t think it should be my voice alone in the refrain. You know, that shine-thingy…” I frowned softly.

“You want me on the song?” he nodded, giving me big doe eyes. I sighed and nodded softly. “Yes sure…but can we please do that tomorrow? I am tired H.” Harry nodded immediately, stepping away from the chair. “You have stuff for sleeping over here?” I shook my head. “Nope. I actually planned on going back into a hotel I checked in…my stuff’s there. I didn’t knew that the SL-studios had bedrooms?” he shrugged.

“They have three actually. Do you wanna sleep here and just take some of my clothes?” I nodded quickly, feeling sleepy all out of a sudden. “Then come on up princess. Let’s get you tucked in.” he offered his hand and I pulled myself out of the chair with it. I was just a tad surprised when he held on to my hand for some time, but maybe he was as sleepy as I was – and sleepy Harry is cuddly like no other humanly creature I knew.

Ten minutes, an oversized Harry-tee and a new teeth brush later, Harry and I stood in the bathroom together. I had decided that I was simply too tired to stand, so it sat down on the cold marble floor, earning an amused chuckle from Harry. I shushed him with a slap on his leg, before he dropped down next to me.

“Feels like a flashback t’those nights y’were tipsy after clubbing.” He mumbled through the teeth paste and I snorted. “When we both were drunk. Don’t try and…escape your past Mister.” He laughed quietly before getting up to wash his face and mouth. Just seconds later I did the same.

“What room should I take?” I asked after we both exited the bathroom. “Oh about that…” Harry started, a soft blush suddenly spreading on his cheeks. “Would you mind sleeping over at mine? It’s just because I really missed you and I don’t want to feel lonely…”

“and because you’re a needy, cuddly little baby. It’s okay Harry, as long as I can sleep on the left side.” He threw me a sly grin before suddenly sprinting down the hallway.

“The faster is the quicker.” He yelled and I sprinted after him with an outraged cry. Harry ended up on the left side, what made me pout for an eternity, before he got up with a sigh, dropped down on the other side and wrapped his arms around me.

“Better?” I nodded. “Way better. Good night Harry.” He yawned sleepily, resting his face in the back of my neck. “G’night lovie. I am so glad you’re here.” I chuckled softly, snuggling myself a little closer into my best friends embrace. “Me too. Now sleep, we have work to do tomorrow.” He mumbled something under his breath before sighing. “Mitch, Sammy and Tyler are coming tomorrow. N’ Jeff as well. Maybe Sarah…yeh, Sarah as well. You are okay with that, right?” I nodded softly. “Sure, I love them. Especially Sarah’s fruit salad. Speaking of, can she bring some?” Harry laughed silently, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. “I can ask…”

The next morning I stumbled into the studio in still Harry’s shirt and shorts, not exactly expecting everyone already being present. And if I say everyone I mean everyone, the whole bloody band and some of the writers including Jeff, were present.

There was Sarah, relaxedly leaned back on the couch in the back, Mitch right next to her with a bass in his hands, Sammy and Tyler crouched over the control panel, Clair (the only one from his band I hadn’t really met properly) with a mug of coffee at the broad window ledge and Adam, carefully polishing another bass. The second I entered – mind you, still in a messy bun and sleepy – the conversation in the room died down immediately. Everyone stared at me for a second, before Sarah yelled;

“I got your fruit salad baby!” from the back of the studio and the awkward bubble of “Oh shit what do I do” burst into pieces. Harry, who leaned against the panel, was the closest to me, so he was the first to hug me.

“Morning princess. Have ye slept well?” I nodded, still a bit droopy, before hitting his bicep softly. “Could’ve said something instead of just disappearing! S’embarassing, fucks sake…” he just laughed and shook his head.

“Bullshit babe. Ye looked adorable, like a cute little deer in the spotlight.” I snorted and pushed him away. “Yeah, cute.” I retorted sarcastically, before I went on to hug Claire. “Nice to finally meet you. was a bit of a rush in London back then…but I am glad you made it here.” She greeted me friendly, and I instantly liked her.

“Agree. Sorry I had to leave so quick after the show…couldn’t say goodbye properly to you.” she just waved it off, before stepping aside for me to greet Jeff, Sammy and Tyler. “Look at that A-list celeb in a baggy shirt that’s not even hers, shorts and fuzzy socks.” Sammy immediately teased.

Oh, right. I was not only wearing Harry’s tee, shorts and had a (very) messy bun – I also wore blue and white striped fuzzy socks. Ideal, let me tell you. I snorted, pushing him off me with a frown.

“Just so you know, even Ellie Saab, Gucci, Chanel or Salvatore Ferragamo aren’t comfortable always…not that you could know Sammy. You C-List producer.” I mumbled under my breath and everyone laughed loudly.

“Shots fired! Even sleepy, A-class Pokémon Celebrity number one manages to block a shot fired by C-class Pokémon Producer and finish her opponent with super move: instant kill. Good job Trainer.” Tyler commented sarcastically and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light! Surrender now, or prepare to fight!” I quoted drily and Tyler pulled me into a bone crushing hug. “I fucking love that one. We should write more often.” I nodded, breaking into a soft grin. “True. Now move along, you stand between me and my fruit salad.”

After I greeted Sarah, Mitch and the rest of the band and team, I just sat down to munch the delicious fruit salad Sarah had made for me (I loved that woman) and just listened to them talking. They had all listened to the newer version of Lights Up - that was how Harry had called it - and all agreed with Harry that I should sing those few lines with him.

“Get up…” Harry suddenly mumbled, placing himself in front of my unbothered self. I looked up at him, shovelling another fork of fruit into my mouth.

“Wha’?” he sighed before pulling me up, sitting on the chair I sat on before and pulling me back into his lap. “Couch’s occupied.” He then said quietly, resting his head on my shoulder. I just hummed, not paying his actions much thought. It was just Harry being affectionate. Sarah gave me a small smile that I returned thinking it was about the fruit salad, but when Claire did the same I wondered…if it perhaps was because of something else.

“I quickly go and clean that. There’s a kitchen, right?” Sarah and Claire immediately got up. “Yep there is. I come along, need a coffee.” She explained and I nodded. “Same here. Anyone else something?” Claire asked into the group but no one seemed to need anything. I carefully got up, Harry’s arms around me loosening up a little. He slowly lifted his chin from my shoulder so I wouldn’t knock him away, giving me a weird look.

“What?” he shrugged. “Nothing. Would you be so kind and get me a coffee as well?” I nodded before following Claire and Sarah into the kitchen.

“You two are cute.” Claire said with a small smile, handing me a dry towel. “What? Who?”

“Harry and you! who else?” she explained laughing and I frowned. “We aren’t a thing. Just friends as far as I know.” I explained and Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

“He’s just very affectionate around you.” I shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable under the drilling of the two. “That’s just Harry? He’s always been that way.” Though it was a true fact, that he really had always been a very touchy guy, my statement came out more like a question. I mean yes, that he was very touchy right now that hadn’t gone unnoticed by me, and yes, he’s been very needy since I came here…but so? To be completely honest, it wasn’t like him being that way wouldn’t affect me, of course it did. It was also hard to not let it or him affect you in general, because Harry Styles just was a man whose presence always left an impact somehow. Be it because of his golden heart and precious persona, because of his undeniable dashing looks or his outstanding talent. And I would also lie if I’d say that his presence made my heart skip several times and his hasty touches and pecks wouldn’t make my pulse quicken. Of course it did – it was Harry.

Claire and Sarah dropped the topic Harry after that, and we talked about the song and the process of the album whilst the coffee machine hummed.

⋆

I refused to let them make a feature out of the song. Even though, Harry almost begged me to let them, I said no.

“I don’t want it! I don’t want to earn money off of this record Harry!” he sighed and shook his head. “But why? Because…because you don’t like it and don’t want to get associated with it?” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Shut up you twat, I love this song like my own child. It’s because you asked me for help, and I helped. And help in a friendship doesn’t have to be rewarded. This is planned to be your first single of your new album and it is supposed to be just you. Because it’s your song Harry!” this time, it was Harry rolling his eyes at me.

“At least let me give you a writing credit…” I groaned and shook my head. “I don’t want my name on the song. In no possible way. Additionally to this, you have not employed me. I am whether part of your band, nor your production team, I am your friend, and therefore I do not accept any form of payment. Just leave it Harry! It’s not important anyways.”

He just shook his head. “You mad woman…but you do know that your fans probably still pick up your voice, if you like it or not.” I shrugged, pushing myself off the table. The whole team watched us, heads turning between Harry and me like during a tennis match.

“Then so it be. I don’t care about someone recognizing my voice. I just want that this thing stays your song through and through, like any other songs I’ve done touch-ups on for you.” he opened his arms for me to hug him and as I did, he pulled me down on the couch. “You are fucking amazing do you know that?” he mumbled under his breath and I snorted.

“Obviously.”

There had been pictures of us. Lots of them, flooding my twitter and Instagram feed, the most popular one was a snapshot of me eating fruit salad on Harry’s lap. His head rested on my shoulder, the tee that was obviously his very own perfectly well visible.

My notifications went crazy with tagged tweets, and since the fans had caught on to the fact that it was indeed, my voice in Lights up, Harry’s and mine ship name was trending. Mitch that little bastard only fuelled the fire by liking a tweet saying:

“Now I know where Harry has all those fruit references from.”

The picture just described linked to it. It now had been retweeted fifty-six thousand times and I was on the verge of flying over seas and strangling Mitch with my own hands. That bloody twit. That hashtag was now trending for two days already and I had received multiple phone calls from several of my family and friends, asking if I was really dating Harry Styles and when the wedding would take place and if I would go on tour with him and if by chance, I would already be pregnant and if, if I already knew what gender the angel was. Long story short, they were all driving me crazy, even if they weren’t serious and just making fun of the whole situation.

And I had heard nothing of Harry. He had not called, texted, tweeted or written an email and I was too scared to call him again. I had, one time, but he hadn’t picked up and since then I had given it up. I just wanted to know what he thought of this whole thing, of us trending of now two fandoms pretty much shipping us and all that mess that had started, simply because some stupid snap shots of us were leaked.

And when I wanted to know his thoughts about it, at the same time I didn’t. I was anxious, because I wouldn’t know how to react if he disliked us being shipped, if he really just saw me as a friend like I always said I did, or if there had be some truth hidden in Claire and Sarah’s assumptions. Because speaking strictly for myself…I caught myself not bothering about being pictured as Harry’s girlfriend.

And the longer this madness was going on, the more I was convinced that I knew that when he first hugged me as I stepped into the SL-Studios, around a month ago.

And maybe my hopeless romantic heart would’ve had a little bit more confidence about the whole thingy, if there hadn’t been this Late Late show thing with Kendall Jenner, that set the internet in an even greater fuss than before. I read tweets like

“#Hendall coming for their necks”

and

“Omg the way they look at each other! #Hendall is rising again!”

and other tweets that fuelled slight insecurity. But thanks to Mitch’s actions (that knob)…our ship was still trending and I still wasn’t sure if I liked it entirely or not.

Facts however was, that I would have to talk with Harry about it, sooner or later. Because the thing wouldn’t go away until one of us would say something. The question was only how: in person or over phone.

I obviously would’ve preferred it over phone because I wasn’t already ready to confess my feelings that I had tried to hide away from everyone, but one look on my face and he would know that something’s in the bushes. To my displeasure had he the ability to read me quite well. And over phone, that was way harder.

⋆

The clicking of my front door made me flinch and almost spill the hot tea over my fingers.

“Hello?” I asked confused, knowing that there were three people including me, in possession of a key to my house: my manager, me and well…Harry?

“’Ello there love…sorry I didn’t wanted to ring and wait because there were people and I felt like if I don’t step in now, I will get recognised. By the way, how comes that you have the same key for the elevator and the door lock, but not every apartment can be opened with that key? When the elevator is for everyone in the private apartment’s…with key?” I grinned at his flood of question and shrugged.

“I really don’t know, but may I ask what in the bloody hell you are doing here? I thought you’re in LA?” he shrugged, placing a Gucci luggage with colourful Mickey mouse print down.

“Oh ye know…” he said smugly, slipping out of his shoes. “Planning to crash for a few?” I remarked, nodding towards the luggage. He just shrugged.

“Depends. However, to answer your first question: I am meeting a very lovely lady that has stubbornly denied getting any credit of feature on my album. To answer the second question…I was in LA, yes. Then I took that thing they call airplane and…” I got up with a chuckle and wrapped my arms around him. “Yeah shut it, you big fool. I wasn’t planning on sounding rude, I was just a bit startled because I was just thinking of you.” he rose his eyebrows.

“I am flattered. Was it a nice dream?” I felt my cheeks heat up a little. “I haven’t dreamt about you, you narcissistic asshole.” He just winked cheekily. “Sure not…” “and if I would, it would’ve been a nightmare.” I closed off and he grinned. “Rude.”

“Asked for it.” He shrugged, dragging me to the couch before saying another word. “What are you doing?” I asked, letting him pull me down next to him.

“We need to talk.” He explained, suddenly seeming way more serious. “You don’t wanna drink or eat anything…�� I asked carefully, but he just shook his head. “Had something on m’ way. Now…” he took a deep breath and scooted back a little so he could rest against back of the couch. “I am pretty sure you are aware of that twitter thing going on…” he said with careful glance at my face…and I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks heat up.

“Obviously.” He hummed quickly before continuing. “What do you think of it?” well, this was not how I wanted it to roll. I didn’t wanted to be the first one speaking up. (but then I should’ve probably done the same thing Harry did – and finally grow a pair). However, right now I felt unprepared and flustered and nervous. I was taken aback by him appearing on my doorstep out of the blue and coming to the point that quickly.

“I don’t…I don’t know really.” I managed to stutter and avoided his eyes strictly. Just calm down, Jesus Christ…breathe.

“That means…?” he asked carefully, eyes expectantly resting on me. “It means that I don’t know. Like, maybe I mind it but probably I don’t because I don’t really mind the thought of us but just maybe and I don’t know.” Harry’s brows were furrowed as he tried to follow my torrent of words.

“I…understand. Partly.” He said, a soft smirk settling on his face. “So you don’t…mind them.”

“Them what?” he leaned forward a bit, supporting his head with his arms on his knees. “Them shipping us.” I gulped. “I guess I don’t.” he nodded slowly.

“Alright. And if I told you that I don’t either, what does that mean for us?” my heart skipped a beat. Well, maybe three or four beats at his words and my eyes grew wide. “Y-you don’t mind?” he shook his head, the hint of a blush covering his cheeks.

“I actually...never really did. I liked the thought of us for a good while now. And the twitter thing…well it only confirmed me.” He then confessed, giving me a nervous chuckle.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked slowly, growing almost smug when I watched his blush deepen.

“I…I am not.” With a swift move I leaped forward and tackled him backwards down on the couch. “And all that damn time you have never called? You idiot!” he laughed bringing his hand up to my face.

“Sorry I let you suffer, but you could’ve called too.” I huffed, obviously being aware of that. “No I couldn’t, because first of all, I am a coward you know that, and second, I was embarrassed because you were supposed to be my best friend and you don’t fall for your best friend and third, the whole interview thing with Kendall…”

Harry laughed out loud. “Kendall? You got jealous because of my interview with Kendall?” I snorted. “I don’t know what you have with putting words in my mouth I never said, I never once said that I got jealous…” Harry cut me off with a quick peck on my lips and a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“Yeah maybe I got jealous…” I mumbled with a scrunched nose and he laughed. “Yeah maybe ye did.”

Ending from Wattpad here

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #one direction #leave feedback if you want #!#💘#queue like you get paid

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spiderman-homecomeme · 5 years

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Day Two - Remember Me

AN: Y’all we made it!! I’m so excited to share this one with you guys and to see what our talented fandom has done! Here is my contribution to day two! It’s all kinds of sappy, soft, sweet, sad (peep the title) and just emotional in general, and I hope you guys enjoy it. <3

Again, thank you @spideychelleweek for making this all possible!

Prompt: Meet the Family

Here is some 2.9k odd of fluff and hurt/comfort!

“Listen, I know you’re a huge nerd and everything, but..." Michelle’s voice holds a teasing, slightly judgmental edge as she struggles to hold three DVDs in one hand, hastily catching one as it falls out of her grasp. “Do you really need more than one copy of The Force Awakens?”

“Okay, first of all,” Peter starts, defensively holding one finger up, “One of those is Ned’s.”

MJ blinks slowly.

“Second of all, May bought me one as a random gift after I’d already pre-ordered it, and I couldn’t just… you know, give it back,” He reasons. “So, yeah. To answer your question: I do need three different copies.” Peter turns his attention back to organizing the box of various electronics hastily thrown together by past-Peter.

MJ still seems less than impressed with that explanation. “Okay. Why?”

“Well,” Peter shrugs, mouth pulling into a slight frown. “What if I lose one?”

When she doesn’t respond, Peter glances up, not surprised to find her staring blankly at him, her expression as impassive as it’s ever been.

He relents, letting her toss one of the three into the “give away” bin before promising to give the second back to Ned.

MJ, out of the kindness of her own heart— or out of boredom, either one— has been helping Peter, in her own words, “get his shit together,” for most of the afternoon. Too many times has she tripped over a stray book, his backpack, a hoodie or even a lone pair of boxers on the floor of his bedroom; times where she’s been unable to find the spare iPhone charger through all the spare papers, pens, and God knows what else in that mess he calls a “stuff drawer.”

Now, none of this is to say that Peter is the messiest person in the world, per se. He can be a relatively tidy person when he needs to be; his room is never littered with trash or the general grossness that comes with some teenage bedrooms.

But...

The cluttered state of Peter’s room is often a reflection of his own mind.

Which is why Michelle is there.

Plus, she’d seen one episode of Tidying Up with Marie Kondo one day when she was home sick from school, and with her room already pretty damn organized-- if she could say so herself-- she has to have some kind of outlet.

So, in a way, they’re really helping each other.

“Oh, hey,” Peter’s voice cuts through her internal monologue, his attention drawn to an ancient— by today’s standards, at least— video camera at the bottom of his second ‘random tech’ box. “Uncle Ben’s camera!”

For a moment, MJ’s ready to go into full-on Comfort Peter in the Best Way She Can Mode at the mere mention of his late Uncle, and she’s trying to decide whether she should do a full or half-hug when his fond, distant smile stops her.

“Wow, really?” She inquires cautiously, craning her neck slightly to get a better look at the artifact. “What’s on it?”

Again, Peter shrugs, flipping the screen open as he examines the device. “I dunno. Old home movies. Probably embarrassing videos of me.”

And he immediately regrets that last part, not having to see the cheshire grin that stretches across her features and the playful quirk of her brow to know that they’re there.

His shoulders sag as he rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You don’t wanna watch any, do you?”

“Um, of course I do.” Her brows furrow as she glances side-to-side. “Are you kidding?”

“It’s not even charged, though.”

“So charge it.”

A beat of silence passes between them.

“Okay, fine,” Peter gives in, though he seems to be far from annoyed, searching for the charging cable near the bottom of the tangle of wires.

MJ cracks another smile at him before continuing to sort through his DVD collection.

The old camera feels strange in Peter’s hand, heavier than today’s technology, screen casting a faint blue light as it turns on for what may be the first time in a decade. He’s surprised they’ve even been able to charge it, judging by how old this thing is.

MJ sits on the bed beside him, head resting against his, watching as he navigates the almost laughably ancient menu, an audible, very dated beep-click sounding at every push of a button.

Neither of them know what to expect as Peter clicks “play” on the first video.

The screen flickers slightly, the lens focusing on what they assume to be the old dining room. A man and a woman are setting the table, chuckling quietly to themselves as they joke with one another. They continue to chat idly as they place the plates and cups down, the context of the conversation lost.

They’re at first only vaguely recognizable to MJ, but the feeling is fleeting, the realization almost instantly dawning on her when she sees the mop of curly brown hair and dark eyes on the man, the cheery smile on the woman’s face.

Richard and Mary Parker.

The date at the bottom of the screen reads: August 4th, 2005, 6:07 PM

Her eyes pass a quick glance to the boy next to her, gauging his reaction. There’s a faint, barely-there grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as he watches his parents interact, neither of them paying any attention to the person filming.

“I wanna help!” A tiny voice sounds from behind the camera, and the view shifts quickly, showing a much younger Peter bounding into the room, napkins in his tiny hands.

Mary turns, beaming as she talks to her son, crouching down to show him how to fold the napkins.

MJ feels herself mirroring the expression on his mother’s face.

Peter is still silent beside her, and she can only wonder how he’s truly feeling as they both watch. While she has certainly experienced loss in her near seventeen years of being on this earth, she’s never gone through the pain of losing a parent, much less two biological and one emotional.

“My mom and dad,” Peter finally speaks, as if introducing them to her, his voice quiet.

Under normal circumstances, she might tease him for pulling a Captain Obvious, but she refrains.

She hums in acknowledgement.

“It’s crazy…” He starts, eyes never straying from the screen. “I— I don’t really remember much of them, you know? They… Well, they died when I was really little, so I didn’t really get a chance to make very many memories with them, and everything I did remember I kinda forgot. But—” He pauses, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Hearing their voices… Even though it’s not really something I actually remember… It’s almost like… like it all comes back. Like, it’s so clear, you know?”

It’s said that the the voice is usually the first to go, the first thing one forgets about someone else after they’ve gone. And the more she thinks about it, the more MJ realizes just how true it is. She remembers, very specifically, the last time she heard her grandfather’s voice, but it had been so long since then. In that moment, right then and there, she can just barely recall it in her memory.

She knows, however, that if she were to hear it in a recording— or in this case, a home video— she’d remember once again.

Memories are funny like that, she guesses.

“Yeah,” she nods, gently knocking his shoulder with hers. “I get it.”

The video goes on, with the cameraman— who Michelle can only assume at this point to be Uncle Ben— having moved to the kitchen.

A younger Aunt May stands in the room, poring over a recipe on the counter. “Damn, May,” MJ jokes appreciatively, laughing as Peter gives her a playful shove.

“Don’t even!”

The lens zooms in on May’s face, and she turns, an exasperated grin breaking across her features as she rolls her eyes. She swats at the man behind the camera with a dish towel.

“Hey, how ‘bout you put that dang thing away and make yourself useful around here!” May teases, her eyes sparkling as an immature-for-his-age giggle is heard from the cameraman.

The video ends as the screen pans down, the next playing with only a second in between.

The date reads: August 7th, 2005, 3:36 PM

“Whatcha got there, Pete?”

This time, Aunt May’s voice can be heard from behind the camera, the smile in her tone infectious as the little boy beams up at her through a mop of curly brown hair. A slightly-too-big cowboy hat sits on top of his head. He proudly holds up the pinto hobby horse, jumping with excitement.

“It’s a horsey!”

Aunt May oo’s and aw’s. “What’s the horsey’s name?”

Little Peter pats the neck of the toy with semi-gentle, reverent hands. “Shunshine!”

“Shunshine?” MJ asks incredulously, doing absolutely nothing to hide the snort that had escaped.

MJ can hardly blame the kid though; she’s pushing seventeen and she still has trouble with consonant digraphs every once in a while.

“Hey!” Peter laughs along with her, though there was no stopping the red tint that settled over his features. “It’s a great name!”

“Very creative.”

“Shut up.”

Their joined laughter fades as the next few videos play, falling into a comfortable silence as the old Parker living room shows up on the screen. Red and blue streamers adorn the walls, dozens of balloons in the same shades touch the ceiling, a comically large Happy Birthday! is strewn across the banister.

The date reads: August 10th, 2005, 4:14 PM

The camera circles the room, showing off the decorations, before finally landing on the birthday boy himself.

“What’s your name, sir?”

A new voice full of mirth and humor asks from behind the lens; his father.

Young Peter looks up, a toothy grin stretched across his chubby face. “Peter Benjamin Parker,” he answers, emphasizing each word with a firm nod.

“And how old are you today?” His mother asks, tone laced with hushed excitement.

The boy smiles again, eyes wide, holding up four fingers.

“Four years old!” Both of his parents gasp-cheer.

August 10th, 2005, 5:23 PM

The birthday cake is simple; funfetti with chocolate frosting and red and blue sprinkles, a giant “four” candle placed in the center. Peter wiggles in his chair, eyes wide with wonder as he watches his mother light the wick.

“Are you ready, Peter?” She asks him, and he nods happily.

Happy Birthday is sung as it should be; full of enthusiasm, each singer being in a different key by the end of the song, cheers filling the room as the candle is blown out.

His mother plants a loving kiss on top of his head before smoothing down his unruly curls.

August 10th, 2005, 6:16 PM

The lens briefly goes in and out of focus, showing young Peter as he sits among torn wrapping paper and discarded boxes, his mouth stretched into a toothy smile as he looks at his presents. He jumps up, running around the room to give everyone an enthusiastic hug, thanking them over and over again for the toys.

August 10th, 2005, 7:02 PM

“Happy Birthday, Pete!” His family cheers in a happy chorus.

Peter responds with an excited, “Thank you!”

Aunt May briefly glances up, flashing a smile at her husband behind the camera, before looking back at the young boy in her lap. Her arms surround him in a loose, but loving embrace.

“Did you have a good day?” May asks.

Peter’s answer is an excited nod, followed by an appreciative hum.

Though the snippets of this past life are brief, they’re still able to elicit a familiar warmth from within present day Peter, and he huffs out a quiet chuckle at the way his younger self babbles on and on about how cool his brand new cowboy boots are.

And it’s infectious, as MJ feels the stirrings of the same, incandescent feeling.

The next clip starts from a whole new perspective, it seems.

Seeing as now they’re much closer to the ground, and the excited giggling coming from behind the lens, it seems as if young Peter, at some point, had gotten a hold of Ben’s camera.

August 12th, 2005, 5:50 PM

The view is shaky as the little boy darts throughout the apartment, pausing every few feet to film one of his relatives— though he only gets their legs in the shot; he’s only just pushing 3’1”, after all.

“Whatcha doin’, Pete?”

A new voice can be heard as a pair of work boots come to a stop in front of the boy, one they hadn’t heard yet.

Michelle can feel Peter freeze at the sound, and she glances at him through the corner of her eye; his gaze is still trained on the small screen, his smile tightening.

Uncle Ben himself crouches down, his tall body barely fitting into the frame, the top of his head partially cut off. A broad smile is stretched across his kind face, green eyes looking over the lens and at the boy holding the recorder.

“Filming,” young Peter says simply.

“I can see that! Got anything good yet?”

The camera moves as the boy nods proudly. “Uh-huh. Just like you!”

“Just like me?”

“Yeah! Are you proud?” Though the word comes out more, “poud.”

“Of course,” Ben chuckles gently, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair, eyes crinkling as his smile widens. “I’ll always be proud of you, bud.”

The video pauses, the screen frozen on the happy scene.

Present-day Peter hasn’t relaxed, his lips pressing together into a thin line, releasing a weighted breath as his thumb hovers over the play button.

MJ’s stomach churns with a new sense of guilt. “We don’t have to watch anymore… if you don’t want to.”

He nods quietly, slowly closing the screen, gripping the camera in his hands, knuckles nearly turning white at the pressure. Michelle sits, arms folding across her chest as she faces the internal struggle of what to say next, still unable to shake the unease festering in her gut.

“It’s just—” Peter starts, his voice cutting off. He sniffs again, glancing away as he preemptively wipes at the corner of his eye. “Hearing him again… his voice… seeing him actually talk...” He shakes his head. “It just— It got to me, I guess…” He trails off, his gaze still trained on the wall in front of them.

MJ places a hand on top of his, watching his face as he continues to speak.

“And I thought I was… good now? I don’t know. I mean,” he swallows, trying his best to keep his voice even. “I know that you never really forget them, that you never really move on… And everyone always tells you that it’ll get easier but it doesn’t... But, I guess I just thought that I was actually doing better. That it really had gotten easier. Maybe I was the exception... I stopped thinking about him every second… I had some voicemails— that he’d left me, before he… you know… but I’d never listened to them, I guess… because I was too afraid. Of what? I don’t know...”

She gives his hand a comforting squeeze, her own heart pounding in her ears.

“Like, I know that it makes sense that I don’t really remember what my parents sound like, their voices. ‘Cause, you know, I didn’t get the chance to. But I never—” His voice is caught in his throat, the shakiness making it harder and harder to speak. He finally turns to look at her, bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes clouded with tears.

“I never thought I’d forget his.”

At that, without a second thought, she opens her arms, and he falls into them easily. She wraps him in a warm embrace, his face burrowing under her chin. He doesn’t weep, tears falling silently instead as she rubs soothing circles on his back.

And she doesn’t know how long she holds him like that, how long they sit there. No words are exchanged between them, though none are really needed.

“Sorry… For making you watch that,” MJ’s voice is nearly inaudible as she mumbles into his hair. “I shouldn’t have pressured you.”

“No, uh—” This time, he shakes his head, the quiet sniffle between words not going unnoticed. “No. No, it’s okay,” he reassures her, finally pulling back, though he still stays in her arms. “It’s actually really nice… seeing my parents. Seeing Ben. I’m not gonna say that it’s like they never left... But it’s like they’re still with me, he’s still with me, in a way.” His lips quirk into a sad smile, his hand reaching up to wipe at his eyes again. “And… I’m glad you got to see them.”

Michelle finds herself easily returning his bittersweet expression.

While she’d never had the chance to meet his parents, from the short clips she saw, she could tell that they loved each other and that they truly loved their son. She’d also never properly met Uncle Ben, only seeing him in passing as he’d pick up Peter from middle school, or come to decathlon meets in their Freshman year. It wasn’t much, only snippets of their actual lives, but even the smallest glimpse made her feel closer to Peter, to his family.

It was a feeling she’d treasure for years to come.

Perhaps in a more emotionally stable state, she’d make fun of herself for being so cliche, so dramatic. But at this point, right in this moment, she didn’t care.

Her lips press together into a small, faint smile as she takes his hand in hers again.

“I’m glad I got to see them, too.”

#spideychelleweek2k19 #spideychelle #spideychelle week #petermj #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker #michelle jones #fic

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polygamyff · 4 years

Text

36. Part 2

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I can’t stop smiling “did I make your day? This really makes me happy to see you smile this much, you have done so much for me Robyn. This, like right now. This isn’t your issue or your fault, you didn’t need to stay here and look after me like a baby, you have a baby but here I am hindering you, I honestly can’t thank you enough, when I went through this it would be me alone, I never had an ulcer before but when I would have this, I would be alone. I would see nobody, I never do like seeing anybody. I look like this, I would call room service, tell them to leave the food outside, which I rarely ate anyways but when people would call I would say I’m out of the country, I just don’t like seeing people. I mean look at me” he laughed “but I just saw you doing all this for me, I was like I need to marry this woman. But honestly I do appreciate you, from the first time to now, you really rode for me and I do love you. Imagine that though, if I never pursued you and I near died then, I would be dead. You would have seen my name and then ingnored it thinking who this nigga” pulling a face holding his hand “don’t say that but you’re probably right, I would have saw and just ignored it but that also makes me sad. To think you was so alone, even being here the only person harassing me is Shawn, he is adamant to see you but I keep on saying no to him, that wife bitch would have been happy to know your died” I shuddered at the thought “and she still wouldn’t have got nothing, I did a prenup with her, you know her and Kellen fucked. We was generally doing our own thing, but then I found you and I don’t regret shit at all. Best ever” he’s so cute “well you got me now, I will always be here for you if you let me be there, you get some rest. You need to have a bath today too, then I will do your fingernails” leaning over and pressing a kiss to her lips “I love you” he said “your beard annoys my life” move off of the bed “I love you too” let me go and stare at my bags “oh can you get miss boo thang?” Pulling a face “who?” What is he on “the bear, I want it so I can hug it” my heart fell, my baby, I love him so much “let me go and get it” making my way out, my baby wants the bear. I swear he pulls on my heartstrings every time, seeing the bear on the couch. My baby wants it, he actually likes it “I’m back” running back in the bedroom “boo thang ok? I like it, I want it in bed with me, she is cute” holding it out to him “thank you Bonita, she can lay on my chest” I chuckled “rest up” I love him, he means so much to me.

I love how Ally has set this out, she has matched up the shoes and bags, I am here for it. Getting my phone out from my pocket, I am going to put this on IG of course. Tapping on IG and then tapping the plus sign, pressing record. I am about to show off my bags, fuck these haters let them see what he got me. Slowly going along the line of bags I have got, I cannot believe I have near every fucking colour of Hermes bag, like what the fuck, this is amazing. Stopping the recording, muting the sound. I do not deserve that man at all, who does this for their girl, nobody. Captioning the video ‘Every colour of the Rainbow, and heels to go with. Thank you @MauriceDavenport, I love you X’ I know every bitch is going to hate, they going to hate me, pressing send on the video. He knows I love bags; I would wear just heels and be butt naked for him, I would suck him dry. I swear I need to get the chance to suck him dry because he deserves, you know what. I didn’t include the little bag, it’s Reign’ but I am going to post a picture because I am being selfish but how sweet is that, to think of his daughter like that. Walking over to the bag, aiming my camera to the bag and taking the picture, I must be the luckiest girl alive. Captioning the picture ‘Can’t forget Reign’ first Hermes bag, only the best for the heiress’ I cackled to myself, I cannot, because I am going to shake the fucking table, the table is being shook I don’t care. Pressing send on the picture, I swear he has really made me happy, I can’t thank him enough for this.

Reign is just placing the bag in her mouth, she doesn’t understand the worth at all and I am not amused so I will keep it until I feel she understand the worth of it “what are you like, if only you understood why mommy is so happy. Your dad really made me happy with bags, I can’t wait for us to be home, in an actual home” hearing my phone go off, the tone which meant it is a facetime call. Reaching behind me, grabbing my phone and seeing it’s Marquis “woah, ok. It’s grandad, what does he want” did I do something, accepting the facetime “oh look, Joy. It’s connected” old people and electronics “look it’s there” he said, I laughed “this is different?” I questioned “yes, we assumed you would be awake, we timed it with breakfast time for the hotel. I wanted to see my little valentines, how is she?” letting out an oh “here is me thinking you wanted to speak to me” I chuckled “Oh I do too, how is you and Maurice, both ok?” I feel like I made him ask now “he is getting there; he is ok and we are fine. He’s in my good books right now, but I am joking. Reign is here, she is doing tummy time, let me just sit her up. One moment” placing the phone down “come here, let’s place you on my lap and then we can see grandma and grandad” Reign was actually enjoying tummy time too, picking the phone up “look Reign, look who’s on there” she is busy looking at her toy on the floor “Reign, little princess it’s grandma baby hey!” Joy got in the camera, Reign soon looked at the phone “let me look woman” Marquis said, I have never seen this man smile so much, he is so happy to see Reign “my sweet grandbaby” Reign smiled, Marquis’ deep voice really made her smile “aww Marquis, she knows us” Joy said, quickly taking a screenshot because this is so cute “are you on the jet still?” I asked “we are, long way to Tokyo” I guess it is “can you tell Ally thank you, she will understand why” she really did what she did for him, it made him happy but also me and she didn’t have to do such a thing.

I am about to upset people today, I am in the mood for it because Tiffany posted her deformed bump, girl please. That child is nothing, fuck out of here with that. I am posting the screenshot because you can’t get any higher than this, Joy and Marquis look so happy and I kind of missed Reign smiling with the side of my ugly face but oh well, captioning the picture ‘Family meeting’ pressing send on the picture as I made my way to the bedroom “uh, Reign. Don’t be trying to snatch my phone now” locking my phone, pushing open the bedroom door “me and boo thang been waiting, what the hell? Reign you took ages!” Maurice held up the bear up, Reign got ever so excited “what on earth baby, dang. You going to give me bruises” she out here kicking her legs “we been waiting Reign; you took so long. I have been awake for ages” walking over to the bed “I think she is very excited to see you, how are you? Did you even sleep?” this girl is making the most amount of noise, acting like she doesn’t see him “she is not about to let me speak, are you ok to have her now? You know she could squash you” Maurice shuffled up on the bed “yeah, I am good. Reign, you got a new sibling. Mi Amor, I missed you too. I know, I know” Maurice took her from me “oh wow, Reign. The love, I feel it” she really missed him, her reaction is so adorable. She missed her dad a lot, hugging him back too “Mi amor, no he estado bien, I am sorry” poking my lips out “she missed you Maurice, you need to start thinking of her when you being a dumbass” my poor daughter.

He is really so goofy, I can watch him all day with her “no Reign, we have to be kind. no escuchas baby. Look, aww” he hugged the bear, Reign just didn’t find it amusing “now you do it, you be nice. Look awwww” he placed the bear on her shoulder, Reign grabbed the bear and is using it as a rag doll “it’s good that she can sit up, with support that is” I said “yeah, it’s better” Maurice took the bear from her, he held it to his ear “aww no, boo thang don’t like you so sorry Reign. She is having to retire now, she is going say bye. Look bye” he used his free to wave at the bear and then placed it on the nightstand, Reign is looking to where he put it. She looked at Maurice and then let out a high pitch squeal “I missed your face so much, boo thang gone now. She needs to sleep so it’s just me and you Mi Amor” Maurice picked her up “I hope you been nice to your momma, she got to deal with me. You can’t be a diva too” Reign don’t be nice to anyone unless they got her bottle with them “y’all both are annoying by the way” walking around the bed, let me check my Instagram while they are playing. I have been really bad today, imagine if I tell Maurice what I been doing and saying, I am just in that mood to be annoying but it’s working, I mean come on. Why did that bitch post her pregnant fucking belly for what, my IG loaded up and there we have it, like girl no. Climbing onto the bed and shuffling over to him “wow, this is funny to me, she really hates me” I said aloud “who does?” Maurice asked “Tiffany, so like I’ve posted picture of what you got me and she posted an ugly ass baby bump picture and then I posted another screenshot of Reign on facetime with your parents, then she posts a picture and the cheek of her putting a wedding picture of her stating Mr and Mrs Davenport, like girl. Calm down” Maurice chuckled “you play too much, stop competing, she is angry, I mean what did you do really?” I shrugged “I think because I put Reign’ Hermes bag and said the best for the heiress?” Maurice shook his head “there you go” I rolled my eyes “give me your hand, now” I said “what?” Maurice pulled a face “I said” reaching over and grabbing his left hand closer to me “what are you doing now?” he is acting like he don’t know “actually, hold Reign’ hand” Maurice placed his hand over my phone screen “stop, we don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Social media is the devil. I hate it” he won’t let me be great “whatever” I mumbled.

It’s a little hard when I see his dick, I really want dick but I can’t “just be careful, let me help you lower yourself down” I don’t want his ulcer to get anything on it while he gets in the bathtub, this is so sexually annoying for me, I want dick, I want sex and I can’t. holding his arm as he placed his arm at the side and lowered himself in slowly “there we go, keep your foot out. Is it the right temperature for you?” he nodded his head “it’s so far down, Reign really took out of me you know. Are you annoyed with me, seems like you are?” shaking my head, sitting on the edge of the tub “no, I’m not, why would I be?” I hope he don’t think that I am “with the Instagram thing” letting out an oh “I just don’t think you need to prove anything when you have everything, they know what you got. Evil eye Robyn, people hate gives you evil eye. My grandma told me that, evil eye. When I did see her, people see and they don’t like it and envy it, that just brings bad vibes. She said to me, and it’s funny. She said Marquis got evil eye, and I did too. I goes it’s what is in the genes, but she calls it that and at times I do believe her. Hate is no good, we don’t need it Robyn. We don’t need to prove anything; I just want to get better. For you, for Reign, for my parents. People like Tiffany and that family, they wish I die, they will assume what I am doing, they will think where have I gone, they will love to see me like this, look at me. Do I look good? I look bad, I only got you here with me, that is it. That is because I love you and I only accept you to see me like this, you think I am happy I am tired from playing with my daughter. It’s hard, I don’t need people wishing shit on me even more, I don’t want anything more happening to my family. I just don’t want you to feel I am angry with you, or that you are upset with me. They don’t deserve to know anything; odd picture here and there is fine. I have a hateful family when the cameras are away, and my grandma she was good, but she was resentful to her sons unless they was the boss of the company, this is why she said we was cursed. I am sorry if I upset you, but they don’t deserve anything from us” nodding my head “I am not upset with you, just I wanted to annoy her even more. But I do understand, I always do find your life so interesting. The way you grew up, I get it and you are right” maybe I was getting too into being revengeful, they don’t deserve to know my life.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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fortheheavenssake · 4 years

Text

PG MM Anon Interpretation Collection - 25

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

171: Jan 16

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

RIDDLE #171

January 16/2020

1835 hrs CST

laugh and carry on

isolation desperation

W&K leapfrog

not jaw jaw

pseudo Trudeau

re-distribution

just scrapping by ,sausage”

LA NA.

LA IS LOS ANGELES NA IS NOPE. SO SHORT AND SWEET, NO LA FOR NOW!

gizza job

ahhhhh’ the ubiquitous tape

brotherly shove

“ the tour will proceed”

THE OFFICIAL GO AHEAD FOR THE CAMBRIDGES TO TOUR CANADA! MARVELLOUS!! THIS IS SO EXCITING, I WONDER IF THEY WILL STOP BY MINE??😁😁😁😁 I ALSO WONDER IF AMERICA IS INCLUDED?

Diamond Dogs

KNOWING MM ANONS LOVE FOR HIM I HAVE NO DOUBT SHE IS REFERRING TO WIKI

🦂🦂🦂

twice shy

1950 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Fantastic! Thank you PG! We so appreciate this! Sounds good!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

—————-

172: waiting for MM anon....

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 6 years

Text

Haven Raised Chapter 2

Summary: Harry's life is completely changed when his aunt and uncle are forced to take him to a funeral at a relatives. Now being raised by Primrose Evans, her sister Grace and the citizens of Havenfall, his life is going to be a roller coaster.

Beta again is @anastasian-dreamer

On AO3

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Last Week of August 2011

“I have never seen so much paperwork, ever,” Grace said as she stared at the pile of paperwork on the kitchen table. Prim sighed as she tugged her hair into a bun on top of her head.

“Well, this paperwork is from the Goblins regarding Harry’s estate. Apparently, the Dursleys had burned all papers from them which probably was a good thing if you think about it.” The angry look on Grace’s face said she completely understood. It was even worse when you took in the fact they apparently burned Harry’s birth certificate because it had his name written Hari James Potter.

Harry was quietly playing with some of the toys they had gotten him, and the look on his face made Prim so happy and so angry at the same time.

Anger seemed to be a staple though. A lot of anger directed towards the Dursley family.

“How much is it?”

“Well given the… circumstances of Harry’s fame in the Wizarding World-”

“That Warder was hilarious. Did you see his face? Lucky his boss was here and caught him with that spell.” Grace snickered. Getting their electronics warded had taken little time, but the hard part was when the person doing the warding had recognized Harry and freaked. His boss was with him though- doing evaluations apparently- and had hit him with a spell that stopped him from saying where Harry was for their safety.

“Quite, but don’t interrupt Grace.” Prim scolded lightly. “With the circumstances, a few people willed things to Harry and some have even sent fan mail. There is a vault filled with the stuff.”

“...What?” Harry and Grace asked trading looks. Prim nodded, feeling highly amused at the very confused faces the two had.

“Yes, and I did draft up a proper thank you note for all who sent it, and the Goblins agreed to send copies for us,” Prim said as she grabbed said draft to hand it to Harry who took it quietly and looked it over.

“It sounds funny,” he said. Grace read it over his shoulder and snorted.

“It sounds like how you write Prim.” Prim rolled her eyes.

“Well, it should. It’s very proper to write it like that.”

“Yeah, well hopefully they do understand you wrote it and not Harry so he isn’t asked why his own writing isn’t so proper,” Grace said. Prim rolled her eyes at Grace who snickered.

“Would they?” Harry asked in a small voice.

“No, Grace is being a pest,” Prim said dryly. “Ignore her.”

“Rude.” Grace teased before she ruffled Harry’s hair. “I’m going to bike to work! You have the afternoon shift yeah?”

“Yes I do,” Prim said. Typically she worked every day but the shifts themselves would change. Given it was the last week before school she would be working mostly evenings or afternoons so she could help with the teenagers coming in for their last few nights of freedom.

“...” Grace hesitated and Prim looked up from the papers she had picked up.

“Grace?”

“I… have some plans with Mike? The guy who works as a waiter at the diner?” Prim purposely pulled her glasses down a bit to look over them. Grace snorted. “Not like that! Mike’s… Mike’s gay and having a hard time with his parents about it. He just wants to hang out.”

“Understandable, have fun then,” Prim said. Grace’s eyes flashed to Harry but Prim waved her off. Razi truly didn’t mind when Harry came to the alley and while it would be a late night, Razi had offered to let Harry sleep for a while in his office one afternoon so it should be alright.

Harry quietly went back to playing while Prim flipped through the various papers. Most just talked about what kind of finances Harry had, how much Prim would receive a month for taking care of Harry- which was a fair bit honestly. Galleons changed into USD was a very nice rate. One galleon was worth ten dollars and Prim was still startled by that amount- though most of the money did go to Harry and his upkeep.

But the other stuff was the worst. Apparently many people had been making money off of Harry’s name and while the Goblins did take a cut, they had also offered a lawyer to stop the more… disturbing pieces of merchandise. Which Prim eagerly accepted the help of, agreeing to let the Goblins keep the majority of the settlement in her letters.

She never wanted to look at that thing again.

“Alright, onto the Black family…” Prim muttered, finishing some of the paperwork. Opening the file for the Black family, she stopped.

The Black Family Seat is owned by Hari Potter. Black Family Seat in use by Lucius Malfoy.

That… did not seem right. Prim grabbed the large book she used to communicate with the goblins- one that was linked between two books and kind of worked like a texting app honestly.

Is it correct that the Malfoy family is able to use Harry’s seat without authorization from his guardians? I do not see any authorization in the file.

Nor did she expect it given the Dursley family and their burning of the goblin letters.

No, was the response. Would you like us to deal with this?

Yes, please.

It was the only response she could give. The idea of someone apparently using a seat- which sounded like a government thing- that belonged to an orphan child without permission… it made her angry. It was theft. It was disgusting.

I ask you to make them bleed, please.

A pleasure doing business, Miss Evans.

Going to work that night was simple enough. They ate sandwiches at home and Harry brought a new book with him and some toys so he could play quietly.

It was when they got there things were different. A large black motorbike was parked in front of the alley, which was confusing to Prim. No one in Havenfall owned a motorcycle as far as she knew.

Harry stared at it in awe.

“That’s so cool!” he said. Prim chuckled.

“I am glad you think so, though I ask you not get a bike until you move out for the sake of my poor heart,” Prim said. Harry giggled and she marked it as a success in her relationship with him. She got out of the truck to adjust her work clothing. A bright blue bowling shirt and jeans, along with a pair of thick-soled boots. She liked boots and tended to prefer them over most other footwear.

Opening the bowling alley door she was surprised to see a person wearing a leather jacket and with yellow and orange hair at the bar, scowling.

“Prim!” Razi called out. “I want you to meet your new coworker!” Prim smiled then, leading Harry into the alley.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said to the person who raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m Primrose Evans, but most call me Prim.”

“For that prim and proper attitude?” asked the person sarcastically.

“Actually the attitude is because of the name,” she responded. The person snorted at that and offered their hand which she shook.

“Jordan Davies, call me JD.” They said. “Pronouns are they/them.”

“Pronouns?” Harry asked at that. Prim smiled at him.

“Well you see Harry there aren’t just boys and girls in this world,” she told him. “And they don’t all use similar pronouns.” Harry frowned. “Sweetie?”

“Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia…” he trailed off and Prim crouched down to smile at him.

“Are horrible people who are very wrong, sweetie.” Harry frowned and looked down and Prim reached out to gentle ruffle his hair, causing the wide and shocked eyes again.

“What about boys liking other boys or girls liking girls?” he asked and Prim smiled softly at him.

“That’s completely normal and if they said it wasn’t they’re wrong again, honey,” Prim promised Harry who looked overwhelmed. “Need to go read?” He nodded and Prim stood up, letting him head over to the couch in the alley.

“Cute kid. He yours?” JD asked, voice cautious.

“He’s a cousin of mine but yes, he’s mine in every way that matters. His former guardians… weren’t appropriate.” Prim said. “Hence why I am the one currently taking care of him.” JD nodded, their eyes a little knowing.

“He’s a good kid,” Razi said. “So, Prim, ready to train JD?” Prim nodded while JD groaned deep in their throat.

“Of course. Do they need to change into their uniform?” JD made a horrified face while Razi snorted out a laugh.

“They will get one, I just don’t have one ready currently.” Prim nodded and then smiled at JD.

“Well then, let’s begin shall we JD?” Prim asked. JD just gave her a weirded out look. “Pardon?”

“Do you ever drop the prim attitude?”

“Never,” was the cheerful response as Prim began the task of teaching JD the ropes around the bowling alley.

She quickly grew very annoyed.

“Your comments are very UN-appreciated,” she said, emphasizing the un part of her sentence.

“And?” JD asked with a smirk. Prim gave them a look they rolled their eyes at and she gritted her teeth.

She could handle it but the comments about her mannerisms and the complaints about the work…

Those were annoying.

The door to the alley opened and in marched the Sheriff who looked tired as she looked around. Harry looked up from his book to give a shy smile at Mackenzie Hunt. The short-haired blonde gave him a smile back before her face went serious.

“Razi, where is our newest member of Havenfall?” she asked and Prim blinked, looking to JD who scowled in annoyance.

Why did they have a cop looking for them?

“Jordan Davies,” Mackenzie said, spotting them. She crossed her arms. “I understand you caused some problems in Jersey.” JD scowled and Prim decided to carefully back away.

She did not need to get involved in that.

-0-

“You excited for school?” Razi asked Harry a few days later as Prim covered a morning shift while JD promised to cover the evening one.

“Dunno,” Harry said with a shrug. He played with one of his action figures. “... Auntie Prim says I can do my best.” Razi nodded.

“Yeah. School’s important kiddo. I bet she’s excited at the idea of you doing good?” Harry nodded, looking surprised at the notion. Razi gave the kid a grin.

“Good people typically are,” said JD as they came into the alley. Razi raised an eyebrow at them. “What?”

“I thought you were out until this evening?”

“Nah, just didn’t want to work this morning. Prim doesn’t mind.” JD pointed out and Razi had to agree. Prim was a hard worker who just wanted to do her best. “So, squirt! You planning any pranks?”

“Huh?” Harry asked as Prim came up to the bar.

“Do not corrupt him,” Prim told JD.

“Come on! Pranks are an essential part of school!” JD complained.

“High school, not elementary,” Prim responded. JD grinned then.

“So I can teach him to prank in high school?” Prim propped an arm on the bar counter and gave them a look.

“No.,” she said simply before ruffling Harry’s hair. “Just do your best love.”

“Trying to talk like the English Prim?” JD asked sarcastically.

“I think we have a cute enough English accent here,” Prim responded, smiling at Harry who blushed but hesitantly smiled back.

“Gah,” JD made a face. “I’m going upstairs until my shift.”

“Good,” Prim muttered before she went back to work.

“...she just broke her attitude!” JD said with a grin. Harry gave them a look. “What?”

“Stop being mean,” Harry said. “Auntie Prim just talks like that around other people. It isn’t bad.”

“Kid’s got a point,” Razi said. JD just scowled. “Look, I agreed to let you bunk here because of your dad. You cause problems you’re out though. And you know what that means.”

JD scowled and stomped off, passing by Prim who ignored them. They didn’t say anything.

September 2011

“Have a good day, okay?” Prim said to Harry, leaning down and giving him a kiss on his forehead. “Listen to your teachers, tell me if anyone is mean and do your very best.” Harry nodded but hesitated before he went into the classroom.

“...Auntie. If I don’t like it…”

“You can call me,” Prim promised. “Ask a teacher and call me and I promise I will always come and get you.” Harry smiled at her before he entered the classroom, leaving her to watch.

“The first day always sucks,” a voice said from behind her. She turned to see an older woman smiling behind her. “He your brother?”

“He’s my cousin. He’s living with me currently.” That was the only information she gave. By the look in the woman’s eyes, she knew who she was now.

“Ah, you’re the woman, everyone, gossips about.” She said. She offered her hand. “Erin Summers, I moved here recently with my husband.”

“You have heard of me so quickly?” Prim asked in amusement. Erin shrugged.

“Luce seems to like her gossip. The mailman is defending you though as are some others. Apparently, you proved yourself with stepping in to take care of your cousin.” Erin said. Prim withheld her sniff. So this impresses them after years of dislike for no true reason?

Pathetic.

“Have you considered getting a therapist for Harry?” Erin asked. Prim frowned, looking at her.

“I must admit I don’t know what you mean.”

“A therapist for… his past home life,” Erin said slowly. Prim hesitated and looked away.

“I haven’t.” She admitted. “I… suppose I simply haven’t thought of it.”

“They can be expensive,” Erin admitted. She hesitated for a second. “How about a companion animal?”

“I… well, I haven’t seen anything that requires it I suppose,” Prim said. Erin nodded but pulled out a business card to give to her.

“My husband is a veteran. He has a very nice companion terrier he adores. This is where we got him from if you ever think about getting one for Harry.” Prim nodded, taking the card before Erin left, Prim hesitating a moment before she copied her, heading out to her truck. She had the day off thanks to Razi and had planned to spend the day doing laundry.

When she got home, Prim noticed the letter in the mailbox she had set up in the kitchen right away. She was somewhat surprised, having not expected any mail from the wizarding world that day- her dealings with the goblins were completed and now she was just waiting for them to contact her back about that business with the Malfoy family and what they were being fined- if they were being fined at all.

Taking the letter out, she was surprised to see it was from a man named Remus Lupin and addressed to her.

She started a pot of coffee and opened the thick letter.

Dear Primrose Evans,

I remember Lily talking about you a little. Not too much, but she did mention her cousin. She was upset that you never stayed in the contract but understood how hard it is to lose parents.

I believe I should be upfront about why I am not allowed to be in contact with Harry and why I am not allowed to leave the country. I am a werewolf and as such there are many restrictions on me. I understand if you do not wish for me to keep in contact, but I have sent pictures with this letter for you to give to Harry.

-Remus Lupin

Prim sniffed.

“Like hell, I’d hate someone just because of a condition they have,” she muttered to herself. She looked at the various pictures within the letter, seeing many of Lily and a dark-skinned man she assumed was James, though just as many as a younger looking version of the man with three other boys. The pictures were all moving, surprising her, but she just sighed.

“Magic,” she muttered, looking at some of the photos and frowning. What were they wearing… it looked like traditional Indian garb but… “Google time.” she decided, grabbing her phone and looking up what the clothing styles were called.

It was an interesting way to spend her morning.

-0-

“We’re gonna have to figure out how to explain the moving photos,” Grace said, looking at the various photos Prim had set up around the living room. Harry was staring at one where his parents were waving at him and holding the baby version of himself.

“Oh, apparently they can hear you and they’ll freeze if you ask,” Prim responded. “Expecting a lot of company?”

“Nah, but Harry might get some friends.” Harry shrugged at that. “How was school anyway?”

“People stared.” was his only response. Prim and Grace traded looks and Prim thought about the card in her pocket the rest of the evening.

Third Week of September 2011

“I’m going to admit I have no idea what that means,” said Prim as she studied the English worksheet Harry had on the bar counter. “Razi, do you know what this means?” Razi looked at it but then gave her a very confused look.

“I have no idea.”

“Aren’t adults supposed to know this?” Harry asked in confusion.

“I remember nothing of my grade three English class at all,” Prim replied. Harry made a face. “It is weird they expect you to know… this.” JD looked over at it then from where they were washing dishes, forced into the bowling alley shirt.

“You’re learning onomatopoeia?” JD asked. “That's when the word is associated with the sound it makes. Like, tick-tock or cuckoo.” They noticed the looks then. “What? I know stuff!”

“How are you so good at English?” Prim asked while Razi just chuckled at their face.

“It’s not that hard,” JD muttered.

“What next will we discover about you? Perhaps you know random flower meanings?” Prim asked. JD simply stared at her in silence. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t know meanings but I know flowers like the gladiolus flower. Kinda looks like a sword.” JD said. Prim threw her hands up.

“I’m leaving to a place that makes sense. Though if you help Harry with homework I will bake you a batch of cookies.”

“Sold.” JD agreed.

October 2011

“Do you fancy the place up for Halloween?” JD asked Razi, who was doing some accounting work.

“Usually just a pumpkin or the such, why?” Razi asked. JD grinned. “Nothing to tacky.”

“This is basically a disco bowling alley. Tacky is all it is.” JD shot back, as Prim walked into the alley, dressed in her normal work clothing along with a grey coat and white toque with a pompom on top. “Sup Prim?” JD called out. The relationship between the two had cooled down after JD started helping Harry with his homework almost daily at the alley. Prim was excellent with math, Razi was pretty knowledgeable about social studies and history while JD rocked at the English and art part. Harry was doing very well, something all of them were pleased with.

“Not much,” Prim responded. She removed her coat and hat, placing them behind the bar. “What is the plan for today?”

“No parties were booked so it's just another day,” Razi replied. “JD was talking about Halloween decorations but I know you were planning on taking the day off…”

“Oh yeah! What's Harry going to go as?” JD asked with a grin. Prim hesitated. “What? Doesn't he have an idea?”

“No… it is… Harry truly only recently learned that Halloween was the day his parents were murdered. He's not really up to dressing up.” Prim admitted. JD swore under their breath while Razi hissed.

“His relatives never said?” Razi asked. Prim dropped her prim and proper act to make a face. JD felt very unfavorable to the unknown relatives at that. “Is he doing okay?”

“As well as he can,” Prim responded. “We’re going to light a candle and look through some of the photos we got from an old family friend. Have a little candy I suppose but… we’re not celebrating.” She gave a smile that looked a little too brittle before heading to the back stockroom, not wishing to be more social at that moment.

“Who the fuck were his relatives?” JD demanded in anger. Razi scowled.

“They were abusive and got tossed into jail. Their own kid they had was put into the system I heard- his aunt was considered unsuitable.” Razi seemed satisfied by something and JD squinted at him.

“What did you do?” Razi just smirked. “No fair, not telling me.” Razi opened his mouth but Prim came out then, carrying a list.

“We’re missing a few parts of the shipment.” She said. Razi sighed as he took the list and JD pouted, knowing they wouldn't get an answer from him for a while.

Last Week of October 2011

Prim ran into the school, dressed in her uniform but without her normal jacket or any of her normal behavior.

“Where's Harry?” She asked the secretary at the front, looking terrified. Said secretary pointed at a room off to the side, looking sympathetic as Prim ran to the room, opening it to find Harry on a small bed, passed out. The school counselor was there along with a man in a white lab coat and red sunglasses. “Harry?”

“Are you Primrose Evans?” asked the man. Prim blinked and quickly wiped her eyes before taking a breath and turning to him.

“Yes, I am. How do you do?” She asked politely. The man nodded.

“Well, thank you.” Prim looked at Harry again in fear and the man continued. “I'm Dr. Escalona. They called me in when he passed out.” Left out was the fact there was no nurse given it was a small school and most of the time it was a simple band-aid needed or they could call the hospital.

“Thank you,” Prim said. “Is he okay?”

“He's doing alright. From what I understand a few of the students accidentally caused a panic attack. The teacher did not handle it properly and it lead to Harry passing out.” Dr. Escalona said. Prim’s hands clenched as the councilor spoke up next.

“We already informed the teacher of what went wrong and the boys… were punished.” She looked uncomfortable as she spoke. “They thought it funny.”

“He's being bullied?” Prim demanded, eyes wide. She hadn't known that.

“It's the typical boy thing-”

“No, it isn't!” Said, Prim. “This isn't a typical thing. It's gross and abusive for kids to treat other kids like crap! Saying boys will be boys is just enabling the problem!” The counselor scowled but the doctor spoke up then.

“I agree with Miss Evans. I've seen too many cases of bullying being brushed off like this. One lead to the bullying becoming deadly. It's not typical.” He said firmly. The counselor scowled while another voice spoke.

“I agree.” An older man came into the room, dressed in a suit.

“Mr. Jameson!” Said the counselor. Prim recognized him as the principal.

“Mrs. Galloway, I was informed various cases of bullying are going unreported thanks to you. I will be looking into those cases myself now.” The man said. The counselor went red but Prim didn't take the moment to bask in it as Harry began to stir.

“Harry! Sweetie?” She asked, going over to kneel down by his cot. He woke up sluggishly, blinking.

“... Mama?” He muttered, starting Prim slightly as the doctor reached out to pull her away gently. She stood up and let him check Harry over, the ou blinking in confusion.

“He's alright. No concussion or anything.” Dr. Escalona said. His glasses have been pushed up and Prim noticed they were red as she looked at him. Maybe he had contacts in?

“Thank you.” Said Prim. She moved to sit in the cot, hugging Harry. “Oh, sweetie. When I got the call I panicked! I was so worried for you.”

“... thought I was tougher.” Harry muttered. “Uncle Vernon-”

“Uncle Vernon was a snake and a liar Harry,” Prim said firmly.

“But the other kids-”

“Were wrong. They're nothing but bullies Harry.” Prim promised.

“She's right.” The doctor said, crouching down to look Harry in the face. “Those kids are wrong. Being tough isn't about keeping quiet when you're being targeted. It's about being able to say: this isn't right. It's about knowing when you need help.” Harry looked down, not wanting to look the doctor in the face.

“Thank you, Dr. Escalona.” Said Prim with a smile. Harry piped up after, a little softer.

“Yeah thank you, Dr. Es… Es…” he frowned and the doctor chuckled.

“You can call me Dr. Diego.” He said the Harry, standing up.

After a few more minutes of discussion, Diego grabbed Prim’s elbow softly when she was about to leave with Harry.

“Miss Evans? Can we chat for a moment?” He asked. Prim placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“If we’re discussing Harry- Harry would you like to stay here and listen?” Prim asked. Harry shrugged, looking at his feet. Prim looked at Diego and waited. He took it in stride.

“From the reports of the teacher Harry has had minor panic attacks before- not that she recognized them until now. Is he… I'm new in town so I'm relying on second-hand knowledge but is he going to therapy for what his… former guardians did?” Diego asked. Prim hesitated.

“No. We couldn't afford the specialized care.” She admitted. Even with the money she got, there wouldn't be enough for Harry to gain the help he needed. Diego frowned.

“I see.” He said softly. “... have you considered a companion animal like a dog?” Harry flinched at that.

“Aunt Marge’s dogs were mean.” He said softly and Prim squeezed his shoulder.

“I… believe we may have some thinking to do.” She said to Diego who nodded his head.

“May I have your address? I would like to do a check up on him tonight.”

“Don't you have work?” Harry suddenly asked Prim, looking shocked. “Ma- Auntie Prim, you can't-”

“Razi gave me the rest of the day off paid. He's worried about you, too, love.” Prim replied, smoothing back Harry’s hair. “Tomorrow you're coming with me and he'll probably mother hen you while JD hovers. Or offers to teach you pranks.”

“Razi?” Diego asked. “Oh, I should have recognized the shirt.”

“You know Razi?” Prim asked.

“He's an old friend,” Diego replied. “Address?” He requested and Prim gave him it, leading Harry out to the truck. He fell asleep on the way home, exhausted from his panic attack and his day. She ended up carrying him up to his room- painted green with a stenciled forest covering the walls after he admitted to liking nature.

She went back downstairs to find the card she had been given on his first day of school. She had some people to call.

October 30, 2011

Harry sat in the truck, holding onto his seat belt tightly. He was terrified and it showed as Prim drove them to the small farm. Communicating with the goblins had them sending her a little extra to get a permit and even the address of a magical animal farm… which turned out to be the place she was given anyway much to her amusement.

“You don't have to pick a dog Hary,” Prim promised him, looking at him through the rearview mirror. “There's cats and owls and other animals.” Owls were still strange pets to her but if he wanted one…

“Yeah, Harry! It's gonna be great!” Grace said with a grin, turning around to smile at him. Prim only wished it wasn't happening the day before Halloween. But maybe it would take his mind off of everything.

Parking in front of the farm, Prim was helping Harry get out of the truck when a large black puppy came out of nowhere to jump on Harry and begin licking his face.

“Harry!” Prim shouted as a young woman came barreling from around the side of the farm.

“Crap! I'm sorry Miss-” the woman began but delighted laughter stopped her. Harry was laughing and giggling as the dog licked his face. He seemed so happy.

“Guess we’re getting a dog after all,” Grace said smiling.

-0-

“So you don't know what type he is?” Prim asked in curiosity. The owner of the farm- a woman named Elizabeth Scamander- shook her head.

“Unfortunately no. My grandfather was an avid magizoologist with many ideas and thoughts but he never wrote about this type of dog.” She replied. “He's a hybrid with a husky but we don't know what the magical part of him is- other then he sets things on fire and can teleport.”

“... how often does he set things on fire?” Prim asked.

“Not too much anymore. Do you have a fireplace?”

“No… though we have had bonfires in our backyard before.” Said Prim.

“Maybe set one up so he can have fun.” Elizabeth pushed a pile of paperwork forward and Prim began signing it. “What will ya name him a kid?”

“Spot! Like how Hades named Cerberus in his myth!” Said Harry happily and Prim shared a grin with Grace. That was too cute.

Second Week of November 2011

“Good afternoon Diego,” Prim said with a nod as the doctor came into the alley. He always came in every day for a drink. Prim had been a little weirded out at first but she figured it was probably just so he could catch up with Razi. The two seemed very close.

After a week of calling him Dr. Escalona, she had finally been told to call him Diego, something she took to with dignity.

“Auntie Prim!” Harry shouted, suddenly running into the alley. Grace walked in after him, having gotten Mike to drive the two to the alley after school. “I got an A!”

“What?” Prim shouted in glee, dropping down to hug Harry who hugged right back. “On your science test? That's wonderful sweetie!!” She took the test and grinned at it, feeling incredibly proud as Harry went to the bar to thank Razi for his help with homework.

“Proud of you kid,” Razi laughed. “How about some ice cream to celebrate?” Harry turned to call out to Prim, excitement in his voice.

“Mama! Can I?” Prim nearly froze but instead, she pressed on.

“Of course!” She grinned wildly and walked up to him, laying a kiss on his forehead as Grace grinned at the door.

“Can I get some to Prim?” Prim waved a hand and Grace went off to get some ice cream.

No one mentioned the Mama thing. They all just traded quiet smiles and continued with their work, Diego getting his usual drink.

“And me and Spot found a frog!” Harry said excitedly to JD who was also at the bar, dressed in uniform but said uniform was covered in buttons. “It was sleeping so we didn't dig it up but it was so cool! How many animals live in the forest?”

“Probably mostly squirrels and rabbits. Maybe a deer or two.” Said JD. They were smiling though. Harry had that way about himself you just had to smile around him sometimes.

Mackenzie Hunt came in then, looking annoyed. “Davies!”

“Oh shit, it's the fuzz!” JD said jokingly. Prim gave them a nasty look.

“Don't swear around my kid please.”

“Why do I have three different complaints about someone spray painting ‘we like to gossip about kids’ on their garage doors?” Mackenzie demanded.

“Dunno, guess they were gossiping about a kid or something.” Prim blinked, looking at JD surprised as the punk refused to look at her or Harry who looks mostly ignorant, to busy staring at Mackenzie.

“You arrested my uncle.” He said in an awed tone. Prim had to hold back her unlady like short while Grace just cackled. While Mackenzie had arrested Vernon Dursley a few months back and while she had been around the alley- mostly to yell at JD, Harry hadn't really seen her much as he was often in the office doing homework or sleeping. It was the first time he had seen her since that day, and he looked awestruck.

Mackenzie coughed a little, looking embarrassed but pleased.

“Of course I did kid, he deserved it.” She said to Harry and the boy smiled wide.

“Do you often arrest people like him?” Harry asked. “It was so cool seeing you do your job!! I've never seen any of the cops arrest Vernon before!”

“What do you mean?” Mackenzie asked in worry. Harry continued, blissfully unaware of the atmosphere around him.

“Uncle Vernon got visited some by cops. But they all seemed to think he was in the right? I dunno. He gave some money and mentioned he was glad that they could be sent to him all the time?” Harry shrugged and Prim could swear Mackenzie let loose a growl at that, but it had to be some sort of wishful thinking. After all, she wanted to growl some to!

“I wish I had connections to the British police service.” Mackenzie said in an angry voice before she plastered on a smile and answered a previous question. “Luckily, we don't get his type of person a lot here. We mostly have people like Davies.” That got her attention back to JD. The punk just grinned.

“They deserved it, I would say, if I had, in any way at all, done the deed,” they said in a chipper voice. Mackenzie just sighed.

“You know technically it can be a felony charge.” Mackenzie said. JD snorted.

“If it causes extreme damage to valuable property yes.” They smirked and Mackenzie sighed again.

“Why am I not surprised you know that. I suppose if I asked you would claim to have no spray paint cans anywhere?” She asked Razi.

“Spray paint is bad for the environment.” He responded. Mackenzie shook her head.

“Alright. I'll say it was unknown. Don't do it again.” She told JD who looked offended.

“How dare you accuse me! I'm hurt Mackenzie!”

“Wounded even?” Grace asked then and Prim sighed.

“Enough with the references you two.” She said as JD exclaimed,

“Hurt Mackenzie!”

“I'm banning that movie.”

“But I like it!” Harry said, looking up with big puppy eyes and Prim groaned.

“Very well then, you may continue watching it.”

“Thanks, Mama!” Harry said with a grin only to freeze, eyes widening. Prim didn't let him think on it, instead kissing his forehead and smiling.

“Welcome sweetie.”

December 2011

Harry frowned as he propped his chin onto his hands, staring at the bar counter top.

“Ah, I know that look,” Diego said from beside Harry. The doctor didn't often chat with Harry but he did at times help him with homework when it was science related or would offer advice at other times. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know what to make Mama and Auntie Grace for Christmas,” Harry admitted. He had taken to calling Prim Mama like nothing else. He adored her and she adored him. Everyone saw it.

“That is a dilemma.” Said Razi from his place behind the counter. Harry looked up at Razi with big eyes and felt his cheeks flush a little as Razi hummed. “What does your mama like?”

Harry did not mention her late-night binge watching of those documentaries she liked. She never really talked about it and got really red when Grace teased her- nice teasing. The fun kind everyone likes. Harry liked nice teasing. “She likes boots. And coffee. And cooking.” Harry said. “Auntie Grace likes cute stuff.”

“How about a mug then?” Razi asked. “You could paint a coffee mug here and hide it from your mama and… make a really cute one for your aunt?” Harry brightened up.

“Yeah!!! That would be great!!!” He grinned widely at Razi, so happy he was willing to give ideas to him. Razi was so cool!! Razi gave him a wink and Harry felt his cheeks warm up a little much to his confusion.

Why would he be blushing?

-0-

The great Christmas Project, as Harry called it, was only so much of a secret that Prim didn't know what it was. She knew Harry was doing something in the office for her and Grace but not what.

She let him have his fun, giggling with Grace about it.

“He's doing well,” Mackenzie said to Prim with a smile. “You've been great for him.”

“I try,” Prim responded. Mackenzie clapped her on her shoulder.

“Well, you're succeeding.” She told her honestly. “Has he asked about any more police stuff?”

“Somewhat. He heard about police dogs and is obsessed. He loves animals now that he has Spot.”

“Did he name the dog?” Mackenzie asked curiously as Prim handed her a water. Mackenzie was apparently friends with Diego and Razi and had shown up near the bowling alley closing for some get together they had planned. Prim was happy to chat while JD cleaned the arcade area. Much to their displeasure and Prim’s glee.

“Yes, he did. Apparently- and I'm betting Grace found this out given it sounds like something you'd discover on Tumblr- Hades in the Greek myth named Cerberus the Greek equivalent of Spot. So Harry thinks it's funny to name Spot… Spot.”

“It is kinda funny,” said Mackenzie with a grin. Prim chuckled and nodded her agreement as Harry came out of the office with a small bit of paint on his nose. She had no idea how it ended up there.

“Hi Sheriff! Hi Dr. Diego!” Harry said happily. “Mama! Razi said you guys are having a Christmas party!” He looked extremely excited and Prim had to raise an eyebrow at the shine in his eyes as he looked at Razi. She withheld her chuckle.

Oh, that was too good.

“We are! It's next week, honey, and you're completely invited.” Prim told her son with a smile.

“Awesome!” Harry cheered. “Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always locked me in my cupboard when they had parties.” Prim kept her smile on her face even as she mentally grumbled that there went her happy mood.

She heard a crack and looked up to see Diego dropping his glass- completely shattered. She thought she heard a loud bang as well, but when she turned her head, JD hadn’t dropped the bowling ball they were carrying. She then focused on Diego.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Diego said, giving her a grin that looked more like a grimace. “Razi, can I…”

“First aid kit is here, you can use my office,” Razi said, pulling out a case that Diego took with a smile.

“It looks like you bled a fair amount though,” Prim couldn’t help her protest, seeing the red liquid on the shattered glass.

“Was I bad?” a very soft voice said and Prim turned her attention to her son to reassure him as Razi cleaned up. He purposely did not mention the few glasses he’d dropped in his anger himself.

-0-

The party was just Razi, JD, Prim, Grace, Harry, and Diego- the doctor having been roped into it somehow by Razi or JD.

It was simple and sweet, and Prim had to take a picture, something everyone else agreed to do.

The said picture was soaked in a special solution to move. On repeat, Prim kissed Harry’s cheek while JD laughed at Razi and Diego smiled. Grace was laughing herself, head thrown back.

It was perfect. Made even more perfect when Harry gave her and Grace their gifts. Prim got a coffee mug claiming her the best mom ever- hand painted, while Grace got a coffee mug with a cat hand painted on it.

Another picture went up, of the two holding their mugs and kissing Harry’s cheeks.

January 2012

Prim pulled her coat tighter around herself, shivering slightly in the cold air. New York was freezing but it was where the central hub for Gringotts was in the USA and where you could speak directly with a manager from a different country. Which was what she needed to do.

Harry held her hand as they walked the streets, looking around in awe at the skyscrapers and Prim wanted to do the same but she had to focus on finding the entrance to the bank. It was in Central Park they said…

Harry tripped and she had to stop, mentally berating herself.

“Am I going to fast?” She asked him. Harry looked embarrassed but she just picked him up. He was still a little underweight- even after months spent with her. “Now, what statue are we looking for again?” She asked Harry. The boy grinned.

“Alice in Wonderland!” He said in a very happy tone. He loved that movie.

“Excellent now…” she frowned, wondering where the statue was when a voice spoke up.

“It's about three minutes that way.” They turned to see a dark haired woman in a fashionable black coat and a very nice hat. She smiled. “Didn't mean to interrupt or eavesdrop…”

“Ah, thank you,” Prim said. “We probably would have been searching all over.” She nodded at the woman. “I'm Primrose and this is my son, Harry.”

“Vanessa.” The woman said, smiling. “Having a tour of statues?”

“Yeah!” Harry said. “It's so cool!!!” The woman laughed and waved goodbye as she walked, Prim heading over to the statue as well. Once there, she tapped the plate three times and spoke out loud.

“I'm a muggle but my son is a wizard. I would like to see the bank.” With that, the statue came to life and Alice nodded before the front opened up and she and Harry walked down the stairs that lead deep into the ground.

“I love magic,” Harry said with a grin. Prim gave her own smile as they entered the bustling bank of Gringotts USA New York.

-0-

“Pleasure to see you again Brightaxe.” She said politely to the goblin who grinned at her.

“You as well Miss Evans.” He nodded to Harry. “And you heir Black.” He had met them when he had gone to the house to confirm it was, in fact, Harry that Prim was in charge of and not anyone else. He had seemed to take a liking to them.

“So it is official then?” Prim asked. “He's been claimed as heir Black and there is trouble brewing for the Malfoy family?” It had taken months for the paperwork to be put together and the proper procedure put through. Prim was eager to learn what exactly had happened.

Brightaxe smirked before slipping her a newspaper.

“Malfoy Family Stealing From The Boy-Who-Lived!” The title read. It was by a woman named Rita Skeeter and it spoke of how it had been discovered that the Malfoy claims of being the inheritors of the Black family name were wrong. Not only had they taken a Wizengamot seat but had also claimed the Board seat for Hogwarts from the Black family. Skeeter seemed pleased to tear them apart.

“All laws passed are currently suspended and all Board decisions have as well been suspended until you find a new regent Miss Evans,” Brightaxe said. “I believe Dumbledore offered?” Prim frowned.

She didn't mind Dumbledore but she was leery of placing an old man such as himself into that sort of position. Call her an idealist or millennial or what you wished but she firmly believed that anyone above a certain age had no rights playing politics. Most of them were too stuck in their beliefs and wished to keep the status quo.

“What sort of laws are there about who can hold the seats?” Asked Prim.

“That they are magical humans shaped beings,” Brightaxe replied. Prim grinned then.

“So would a werewolf be allowed?” Brightaxe’s grin copied hers.

“Indeed.”

Prim left the bank with a smirk on her face and knowing that she was going to be able to meet Remus soon enough.

Of course, she had a promise to make first and the two went to the Central Park Zoo, Harry laughing as he looked at all the animals. It was there they met Vanessa again.

“Oh! Hello!” Prim said in surprise. Vanessa looked shocked herself but covered it with a laugh.

“Nice to see you again,” Vanessa said to the two. She was adjusting her coat a little, her hat slightly askew, but Prim figured it had probably been a strong wind. “Have you seen the red pandas? They’re quite cute.”

“No! Mama, I wanna see them!” Harry said, grabbing onto her arm and prim chuckled.

“Alright, let’s go find them,” she said to Harry. Vanessa offered to help, and the three spent a nice day together, ending with Harry begging to have a photo taken to remember the day, Vanessa going pink in shock. Prim had a nice giggle over that but took the photo.

A few days later, Razi asked her if she’d seen anything odd at the zoo.

“No, nothing of note anyhow. Some people dressed odd but it is New York.” Prim replied. “Why?”

“A murder happened that day. Some guy ended up getting stabbed with a wooden stake. I’m glad you’re alright.” Razi said, his face a bit strange. But then…

“A wooden stake?” Prim asked. “That’s… strange. I’ve never heard of anything like that before, other than in vampire fiction.”

“Yeah. It is strange.” Razi said, his voice off but it was a very weird story after all.

Second Week of January 2012

Prim opened the door to reveal a wizard dressed in somewhat shabby robes.

“Hello!” She said cheerfully. “You must be Remus! Please do come in!” He came in with a smile and took her hand, holding it warmly.

“I can't thank you enough.” He said to her. “You… you've done so much for me already.”

“I gave you a job Remus. That's about it.” Prim said with a chuckle. “How is it going?”

“We officially start tomorrow on casting new votes on various laws which is why I'm here today.” A pained look was in Remus’s eyes and Prim frowned at it.

“Won't you…”

“No. It was a unanimous vote to keep werewolves from leaving Britain. It might be suspended now but it won't be for long.” Remus looked exhausted and bitter as he stood in the doorway. Prim felt horrible for the poor man as she stood there.

“Well then.” She said. “You better come and hug Harry and spend the evening with him.” She lead him to the kitchen where Harry was doing his math homework, his tongue poking out of his mouth. Remus took in a shuddering breath and Harry heard it, turning around in his chair to look. “Sweetie, this is Remus. He was a friend of your parents.”

“The one who sent us the pictures?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” Remus agreed, slowly walking over to the table to sit down next to him. Prim crept out of the kitchen, a grin on her face.

She'd leave them alone for a bit.

March 2012

“I swear if there is another incident of bullying-!” Prim shouted at the counselor who scowled while Mr. Jameson also looked furious.

“There won’t be. Ms. Galloway? You’re fired.” he said. The counselor looked shocked and horrified while Prim took Harry with her out of the office, shooting angry looks at the three boys who had cornered her son and nearly broke his arm. Their parents all looked ashamed as Prim stood in front of them.

“I do not know why you dislike me. I do not know why I am hated in this town, but for you to spread this hate to your children who take it out on my SON…” Prim shook her head and stormed off.

She drove back to the alley as she had to work and couldn’t keep letting Razi give her paid time off. As well, she was aware that Razi tended to make Harry smile a lot- something she did tease him about a little.

Harry was quiet when they entered, heading for the couch to curl up with a book.

“The only good thing that happened is that counselor got fired,” Prim said to herself.

“Good,” JD said as they walked up to her. They weren’t wearing the shirt- Razi got tired of the pins and random rips said shirt had- and instead had on their jacket and tank top. “Bully is bullshit.”

“Without using the same profanity, I have to agree,” Prim said. She sighed. “It was hard enough when I was in school. I know how nasty kids can be.”

“You were bullied?” JD asked in surprise. Prim nodded.

“Yes. Primrose is a strange name after all. It’s how the prim and proper taunt started.” JD frowned.

“Prim and proper taunt?” they asked and Prim frowned. Didn’t…

“I forgot you’ve only been here for not even a year…” she trailed off, blinking in confusion before she pressed on. “It was a taunt started in elementary and well… continued. Eventually, I got back by acting prim and proper in general and thus, the taunt lost its power over me.”

“...No, it didn’t.” JD said, looking at her. Prim just gave them a look and they sighed. “...Sorry,” they muttered under their breath.

“...Did you just apologize?” she asked. JD scowled.

“Bullying is bullshit and gross,” they said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories when I taunt you over your attitude.”

“You haven’t done so for a few months.” Prim pointed out. JD shrugged.

“I got used to it I guess.” Prim hummed before she gave a soft smile at JD.

“You didn’t mean to bully me- sure maybe you were mean in the beginning because you were lashing out, but you never crossed a line,” Prim said. “...I also never thought I’d ever hear you say sorry.”

“Well, this is the only time you’ll ever hear it.” JD snorted. They went off to work and Prim chuckled as she went to do some work herself.

That was nice.

July 2012

Prim frowned at the book, flipping through it in confusion. What was… that didn’t… what?

“Having trouble?” asked an accented voice. She looked to the side to see an older Indian woman dressed in colorful clothing and jewelry, a red dot in the middle of her forehead.

“A little I must admit,” Prim said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Do you perchance own this store?” Prim asked, gesturing to the small Indian shop she was in. The woman nodded.

“Yes, I do. What brings you here?” the woman asked.

“I have recently taken charge of a relative whose father was from India. I am… not sure which part though I know in his wedding photos his wife, my cousin, was dressed in a sari though not…” Prim coughed and changed the subject, realizing she had been rambling. “I wished to learn to make some traditional foods the proper way from him for his birthday at the end of this month, hence why I am here.”

“Well then,” the woman said, sounding pleased. “Do you need help? Or a few lessons? I was going to make some pani puri for my own supper tonight. I can teach you if you wish?”

“Thank you,” Prim said honestly. “Thank you so much.” The woman waved her hand in amusement and directed her to some She introduced herself as Chetas and Prim introduced herself as well, the two chatting together as Prim gathered the food and pans she would need.

“Harry… do you know how is spelt?” Chetas asked. Prim nodded her head in the positive.

“We managed to recover his birth certificate and it is spelled H-A-R-I, though typically he spells it the English way. From what I understand his parents wished to give him an Indian name but as well wished for him to have an English name as to prevent harassment.” Prim said. Chetas snorted.

“Harassment? If people teach their children better than none there will be.” Prim nodded her agreement to that. “Come then, I teach you and you come back to find present here for child.”

“He likes to read,” Prim said thoughtfully. She had noticed some Indian stories written in English. As well there were some books dedicated to teaching Sanskrit she thought he might like.

“Excellent, but lesson first,” Chetas said and Prim agreed, following the woman to the back of the shop where a kitchen was, the shop also being a place to sell food.

It would be a very fun lesson for both of them.

Second Week of July, 2012

Chetas showed up in Havenfall one day with a cookbook under her arm. Prim was rather surprised to see the Indian woman come into the bowling alley.

“Chetas, hello!” she said in surprise.

“Miss Evans,” said the older woman. She offered the cookbook. “For you. Found it in back of closet.” Prim blinked, taking the book from the woman.

“Thank you, ma’am, let me grab my purse to-”

“It is gift. None of my grandchildren wish to learn.” Chetas looked annoyed at that and Prim chuckled. “Where is young Hari?”

“He’s with my sister right now- she has the day off,” Prim explained. Chetas nodded before she smirked at something. Prim looked over her shoulder just to see Razi and JD. “Oh! Sorry Razi! This is the woman I was talking about, the one teaching me to cook food for Harry’s birthday.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Razi said, bowing his head. “You can put the book in my office if you want to hide it.”

“Thanks, Razi!” Prim said, going off to do so. She took a few minutes to find a good hiding spot before she came out to find Chetas leaving with a wave. She waved back with a smile, unaware of the looks being traded by JD and Razi.

July 31, 2012

“Happy birthday Harry!” Prim cheered as she put the cake in front of Harry. He grinned widely as everyone around him all sang. It was happening in the bowling alley, and Harry was just happy to have everyone around.

It was just him, Prim, Grace, Razi and JD- with a quick appearance by Mackenzie when she came in to yell at JD and offer her congratulations- but it was the best party he ever had!

A camera set up took their picture as he blew out his candles.

A year ago, a funeral was held on August first for a family that lost a grandmother, but a full year later, a birthday was held to mark a son that had gained a family.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Harry is eight when he ends up with Prim, so he’s got about three years until Hogwarts, so I’m just doing a chapter for a year. Otherwise I’ll never finish this fic. I know myself.

Now, because I know I’m going to get complaints: There is no bashing in this story but there is some unfriendliness. Yes, people may say what I have placed here as being bashing, but to me it isn’t, instead it is being unfriendly- that is I am portraying a character in a negative way. Bashing is when you take a character and ONLY give them bad traits or make them ridiculous for no reason. As it is, I can totally see the Malfoy family doing something like I have them doing so here. Why? They openly say that Lucius Malfoy hides illegal items or sells them and there is bribery mentions. It’s not that far out they would do this. Yes, it will have long reaching consequences- this isn’t a vacuum. It’s just they won’t hit until Harry goes to Hogwarts because Prim and Harry live in the USA. They won’t interact with the Malfoy family or the British Wizarding World until then.

Now tiny bits I thought of for here and want to explain:

-I adore JD but they state in the game that they hated Havenfall when they first got there. So, I made them a little angry and bitter. And given Prim is very prim and proper, they clashed. As you can see they did make up, but yeah. Not a great beginning.

-I don’t know who came up with the idea that Harry’s name on his birth certificate is Hari but I used it here. Yes, he uses the English spelling mostly due to the Dursley family and because he never knew until he saw his certificate. So kudos to whoever did it.

-Prim gets 150 galleons a month for Harry which is about 1,500 in USD. Yes, lots of money but that is for Harry and while Prim does use some for groceries for everyone it can go fast. The lawyer was given to her for free because the goblins make bank on the money from the Harry Potter name and she was willing to let them keep 60% of the settlement.

-I'm like 90% certain it's mentioned in some route that Diego hasn't been in Havenfall long. So I took creative license and made it so he just shows up here. As well- not sure how American schools do it but we didn't have a nurse at my school because we were a small town so I just went: here! Also it gives me an excuse to introduce him earlier!

#haven raised #harry potter #havenfall is for lovers

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squirenonny · 6 years

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Hi there!! Wrt you mentioning about team stimming parties, I was wondering, what types of stimming (toys, materials, their own body etc) do you think the paladins enjoy the most, or get the most benefit from. It's really enjoyable image ; w ; but I know some stims can conflict with other peoples needs, so what might be someones fave might annoy someone else. So I wonder what either makes them most happy, or helps them best when needed! (QwQ Those are intense circumstances they all live in.)

I got carried away,,

Keith: Mainly tactile stims, a few visual stims

Textures: there are Good textures, and there are Bad textures, which is why he always wears his same jacket (good texture) and gloves (first line of defense against bad textures–see also my post about Keith’s gloves). In general, wet and cold is definitely Bad, smooth is usually bad. His favorite textures are (a) layered (running his finger over the wrap on his knife and plucking at the edge of a layer) or (b) ribbed (things like corduroy, or the seams on jeans and jackets that have that edge he can catch his fingernail on.)

Repetitive motions: that classic thumb rubbing that we saw in his vlog. These are typically very tiny movements that he tries to hide–he’ll rub his toes together inside his shoe or tap the toe of his boot against the floor.

Deep pressure & buoyancy: Keith is pretty touch averse, so he doesn’t seek out deep pressure often, but if he’s in the right mood a Shiro (or Hunk) Hug is A++. He also needs a blanket to sleep, preferably two or three. Yes, even in the hottest part of summer. Tight pants/shirt are soothing, and ngl he likes his Blade uniform because it’s a more even pressure than the paladin armor, which is too heavy on his shoulders and too thin/flexible where there isn’t the outer layer of armor. On the flip side, he also likes swimming because of the bouyancy. (Interestingly, he hates the feel of rain/shower water falling on him. It’s just too overwhelming. But being in the water and just floating there is v relaxing.)

Visual stims: mostly the way light reflects off his blade when he twists it back and forth and similar reflection/refraction things (light reflecting off water, mirages, the abundance of glowy things in space… he’ll sometimes stare at the crystal on the bridge for the entire briefing–completely engaged with what people are saying, just. Staring at the ceiling. It’s mesmerizing, okay?)

Chewing: rare, but more common as he gets more comfortable around the other paladins. He used to chew on his pens at the Garrison all the time, and one of the reasons he keeps his hair long (aside from not having the spoons to cut it/get it cut and not liking change in the first place) is so that he can suck/chew on his hair. He had to cut it when he first entered the Garrison, and it’s just finally getting long enough to do it again.

The thing about Keith’s stims is that they’re all very lowkey things he an do to calm himself down without drawing anyone’s attention. Probably he had bad experiences at school or in a foster home with kids making fun of his stims or his foster parents/teachers hammering “sit still” and “quiet hands” into him until he completely stopped doing anything immediately noticeable. He used to flap and run around when he was happy, but he doesn’t do that so much anymore. (It’s coming back, though, especially with Pidge and Lance being such big stimmers.)

As a result, his stims don’t really bother the others too much. Lance has a moral objection to Keith chewing on his hair in particular, and if he’s using a chewer, the sound of it sometimes gets to Pidge, but that’s it.

Pidge: visual, vestibular, and auditory stims

Spinning, flapping, bouncing: A lot of Pidge’s stims involve moving around (see the entire time Beezer was onscreen.) There’s a spinny chair in Green’s lab for the express purpose of happy spins, and the team knows to be ready for excited flapping when something Pidge is working on comes out right. (Lance has been hit in the face on more than one occasion because he likes to drape himself over Pidge’s shoulder.) Bounces in place when bored, runs around the castle at odd hours, climbs the other paladins. Very much a “I have too much energy in me and need to expend it somehow” stimmer.

Music: Pidge usually has music playing in Green’s lab–invariably at deafening levels (the bass pulse in your chest is just as important as the music itself). Upbeat songs are best, but any kind of background noise will do. Has started a collection of alien music since this laptop only has a small portion of Pidge’s library (most of the hard drive was dedicated to Kerberos research/snooping on the Garrison.)

Echolalia: Pidge is big into echolalia. (Pidge isn’t the only one who’s big into echolalia. Lance is also a fan, and Hunk usually joins in when they start an echolalia party.) In particular, Pidge will quote movies/TV shows, echo robot noises back at whatever robot happens to be nearby, and make quiet trilling sounds while working on code

Misc visual stims: There isn’t any one thing Pidge goes to for visual stims, but gradual changes (a la screensavers, lava lamps, auroras, glitter jars) have a tendency to turn into time sinks. Pidge has absolutely spent an hour staring at a screen saver without realizing it while idly musing about programming problems.

Repetitive noises: Can be either good or bad. Mechanical sounds, electronic whirring, and other white noise are great. Sudden, jarring, or grating noises are huge Nos. (See Keith’s chewing and some of Lance’s echolalia.)

Pidge’s flapping and running has a tendency to make Shiro tense up, especially if he’s not in a good place to begin with, so Pidge sometimes has to remember to stay chill or just go somewhere else until the energy is gone. Keith doesn’t like how loud Pidge plays music (it hurts his ears), but he respects personal boundaries and won’t turn it down. He’ll leave if he can, and if he has to stay, he’ll get irritated and snappish until Pidge makes the connection and turns down the volume. It’s the only real sticking point between them when it comes to stims, and they’re working on better communication to make sure it isn’t an issue in the future.)

Lance: Primarily vestibular and auditory stims, plus deep pressure

Spinning, dancing, flying: Lance loves to move. He loves spinning and dancing and big motions and G-forces. (He’s a huge fan of roller coasters and other amusement park rides.) Flying is such a stim for him, holy crap. So much so that it can become a problem. Loops, barrel rolls, sharp turns, hard acceleration–he loves the way it all pushes on his body (see also: deep pressure) and the way it makes him hyper aware of the physical sense of motion. Sometimes he pays so much attention to the sensations that he momentarily loses track of where he’s going–which is why he still sometimes crashes/sideswipes the other lions.

Deep pressure: Lance is a very touchy person in general, but in particular he loves hugs and cuddle piles. His favorite thing is to have Pidge sprawled across his lap, or when he and Hunk are sprawled on the couch in a tangle of limbs, or group hugs, or–Yeah. all of the above. Deep pressure feels like home.

Aerial dance: A combination of vestibular and deep pressure stims. Loves the muscle control it requires for the same reason he loves G-forces while flying. It grounds him, makes him aware of the space he occupies. Add to that the pressure of the silks wrapped around his body and the spinning and negative Gs as he drops, and it’s just the best.

Echolalia: Lance and Pidge can have entire conversations in quotes. Lance also makes sound effects for anything and everything (in training, while flying/fighting in his lion, while cleaning, while dancing through the halls.) He sings nonsense tunes a lot and hums both for the sound and the feel of it.

Voices: Conversation itself can be a stim for Lance, regardless of whether or not he’s a participant. The fastest way for him to fall asleep is by having the people he cares about around talking (e.g. his parents laughing and joking as they clean up in the other room, Hunk and Lance talking less and less coherently as they fall asleep in their room at the Garrison, Pidge and Keith up late during a sleepover in the rec room talking in low voices.) Lance doesn’t even need to hear the words; there’s something soothing about the cadence of it. He’ll use TV or music as a substitute if he has to, and he finds it very hard to fall asleep in total silence.

Lance is a dramatic stimmer, so it totally depends on the rest of the team’s energy levels as to whether or not they’re bothered by it. Most of the time, Hunk and Pidge will join in, and the rest of the team at least doesn’t mind. If they’re tired, though, Lance’s raw energy can be Too Much. There were some clashes early on with Pidge until they worked out a system where Lance’s cuddles didn’t get in the way of Pidge’s hyperfocus on a project. Hunk’s cool with all of Lance’s stims except when he’s in the lion/ship Lance is piloting, because Lance’s stimmy rides make Hunk nauseous.

Mostly, though, if there’s a problem, it’s with Keith or Shiro–and even those are pretty rare. Keith is mostly just confused by Lance’s stims, and isn’t bothered by them unless he’s already in a bad mood and wants to be left alone. Then Lance’s big presence can be too much. And Shiro can be set on edge by Lance’s stims for the same reason Pidge’s can get to him: Shiro’s idea of soothing is calm and quiet, and both Lance and Pidge are… the opposite of that when they’re happy and relaxed. Lance picks up on this quick and usually is able to dial it back right away.

Hunk: Taste, smell, and tactile stims

Taste: Hunk must put All the things in his mouth. Tasting alien foods/spices, yes, but also anything. Flowers. Glittery pink snow-stuff. Purple water. He did this with the Olkari headsets, so I mean. It’s canon. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. This bleeds over into tactile stimming, honestly (see: Olkari headset making his tongue itchy. He sounds so pleased by that I just can’t. I love him.) It also has the unfortunate side effect of having put him in a pod more than once because he accidentally poisoned himself. Worth it, though.

Smell: Hunk cooks to calm down for two reasons. One, it breaks him out of his cyclical thoughts and other anxious habits, giving him something else to focus on that’s familiar and controllable. Two, the smells. Some people have scented candles. Hunk has a rack of extracts. Also, like? Flour has a really bland but comforting smell? And let’s not even get into the smell of a finished dish. Cookies? Pies? Bread?? The kitchen is paradise for many reasons, and olfactory stims are one.

Deep pressure: This team is united in their love of deep pressure, tbh. Group hugs are great all around, and Hunk’s only too happy to dish them out. Always glad to be a pillow for one of the other paladins. Wears a thick vest for that extra little bit of pressure around his chest.

Tinkering: There’s something really satisfying about feeling machine parts click into place under his hands–and the oil is only a bonus, as far as Hunk’s concerned. He’ll take things apart and put them back together on an endless repeat just to feel the weight/texture/shape of the pieces. Also great for repetitive motions. See: stimming with the wires and making the sentry bot hit itself while the younger paladins were waiting in the control room in season 1.

Misc tactile stims: Hunk just likes touching things/holding things/fiddling with things. He likes to have something to do with his hands, so even if he doesn’t mean to, he’ll usually find something to play with when he’s bored or trying to focus on something Shiro or Allura is saying.

Hunk, like Keith, has a lot of less obvious stims–though in Hunk’s case it’s less because he’s trying to suppress it and more because his favorite stims are typically ambient things. Put him in a happy environment and he’ll be happy. He’s grossed out almost everyone on the team by the kinds of things he licks/bites, and Pidge gets annoyed when his tinkering turns into fiddling with Pidge’s stuff. Otherwise, he’s pretty chill.

Shiro: Auditory, tactile, and a few vestibular stims

Shiro has two modes: lowkey and highkey

Lowkey Shiro likes things to be calm and quiet. Ambient noises (air in vents, breathing, his own heartbeat) can be stims, but anything that interrupts the (near) silence is a major Sensory Bad. Deep pressure is good when he’s in this state, as is the texture of whatever chair/couch/bed he’s resting on. He’ll be hyperaware of his body, especially its weight, and he’ll run through relaxation exercises or meditation techniques to chase that peculiar calmness that comes when he’s intimately aware of himself and his immediate environment but his mind is completely quiet.

Highkey Shiro, like Pidge, has too much energy and needs to burn it off. He’ll pace or go for a run, or spar, the pounding of his footsteps/clash of his arm on the gladiator’s weapon serving as a grounding force in addition to the release of restless energy. When he can’t leave to burn off energy, he’ll clench and unclench his prosthetic hand, squeeze his arms, and grind his teeth. The repetitive motion and the tug/pressure/pull of it is soothing and helps to take the edge off the frustration/anxiety/overstimulation he’s dealing with.

The most notable thing about Shiro is that almost all of his stims are unconscious–meditation/relaxation techniques being the main exception. He didn’t stim a whole lot before Kerberos, but he does it a lot more frequently after his capture.

As he gets to know the other paladins and becomes more familiar with their stims, he starts to be more deliberate about it–he wears a weighted vest like Hunk’s a lot of the time and usually has a fidget toy with him to stim with during long meetings. Lance also entices him out for relaxing flights in the lions, because as it turns out the sensations of piloting are good for Shiro the same way they are for Lance.

Shiro’s stims don’t bother anyone–in fact, for a long time, no one even realized Shiro was stimming–but he’s by far the most likely to be bothered by the other paladins’ stims. He needs to be in control of his environment, and unexpected/uncontrollable stimuli tend to set him on edge.

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transformationstuck · 6 years

Text

Basket in the Pool

Target; A store that remained in constant across all of time. The soft lighting, dark carpeting in the clothes areas, casually dressed employees. The pretzels and pizza were advertising through smell across the store and faint indie music could be heard if you listened hard enough, though it might’ve been from one of the shops adjacent in the mall.

Another constant of Target happens to be teenagers acting like asshole when it is well past dark and there are more employees than customers in the store.

“Pleeeeeaaseeee give me enough for a pretzel. I’ll give you half, I’m so hungry,” Dave said to Karkat as they walked down one of the aisles back to the men’s clothing section. Dave clung onto Karkat’s sleeve and started to try and drag Karkat down.

“Don’t let me starve, dude, you’re so mean,” he continued in a louder voice. While Dave seemed like he didn’t realize or care that he was being entirely too loud in the store. Though the aisle was empty, registers were manned and some poor souls were probably still wandering the aisles of the store. Forced to not only clean up after asshole customers, stock shelves, work overtime, deal with angry people all day, and now some loud boy yelling about pretzels…

“Dude, shut the fuck up. Just let me get some pants first. I fucking hate people being able to see my boxers with this tear,” Karkat softly delivered the words to Dave as icily as he could. Karkat had also pulled his arm up quick to get Dave back on his feet.

“Yeah sure,” Dave said as they continued towards the clothes. Their arms were locked at the elbow so Dave could feel Karkat tense up when he started to replicate dubstep with mouth sounds.

The dubstep was an in joke and, of course, was almost entirely ironic. A twitter joke Dave had made his mission to keep repeating to get on Karkat’s nerves. At Karkat’s place, Dave doing this would’ve led to Karkat faking anger and pushing him on the bed, eventually leading to them making out. Here, however, it led only to Karkat pushing him away as he knelt down to view the jean sizes available to them.

As the sounds continued, Karkat quickly grabbed all the darker jeans in his size range and hurried to the dressing room. He was mortified to see an attendant on duty folding clothes. They approached and the dubstep introduced them before they were sighted.

“You need to try those on?” The attendant asked. Her smile twitched as Dave continued to make noise as she spoke.

“Yeah, thanks,” Karkat said and laid out the jeans on the counter so the woman could look through them to make sure there was no merchandise hidden in the pile. Soon the jeans were handed back to him with a key attached to a plastic card with the number ‘4’ on top of the pile.

“Thanks,” Karkat said again and turned to the row of dressing stalls. He began walking to the rooms. Dave followed him to the hall.

“Alone,” Karkat said and gently shoved Dave back with his palm to Dave’s chest. Dave frowned and grunted, but turned away from Karkat’s glaring to walk back through the clothing section. Not having anyone to annoy, and his jaw starting to ache, Dave stopped the mouth sounds.

He continued down the aisle. To his left, the toy aisles stretched on. The lego sets jumped out in his sight first. He glanced at them discreetly from behind his sunglasses and didn’t stop walking as his sight jumped from toy to toy. Sure they were cool, but he had no money on him, and any money he would hypothetically have would need to be spent on utility bills.

It didn’t make him not nervous at the sight of the AT-AT lego set on display.

His journey down the back aisle continued through the sporting goods. He passed bikes and baseball helmets. Next the printers and bluetooth speakers. Finally the video games.

He walked to the xbox section and looked at what was available. He eyed the boring looking new releases and looked over the sale games. It was all they ever had; Payday, Battlefront, Call of Duty…

Nothing worthy of interest he continued walking. He passed the seasonal goods and came to the mall entrance of the store, connecting the Target to the hall of Game Stops and Hallmarks.

However, in front of the mall entrance, there was an unattended Target cart with some boxes in it. Thinking it was maybe a cart with items on sale, Dave approached it. First he looked at the box that drew his attention in the first place, a bluetooth/record player.

The box looked fine, however the electronic pieces falling out of it dissuaded Dave from looking at it any further. A cracked blender in a box, handfuls of clothes hangers, opened dvd cases… All damaged items it seemed.

One other item did draw Dave when he started peering in, however. There was a large pile of yellow plastic like a balloon. The yellow seemed too bright to him, as if he were looking at a banana on a computer screen and not seeing it through sunglasses in a fluorescent lit Target. He reached down to grab it and determine the item’s original shape.

No much seemed to remain. Tears and rips plagued the surface of the item. The way it felt, though, reminded him of water wings that he used to wear at the public pool what felt like decades ago. There was too much plastic to be kiddie water wings though, so Dave guessed it was a pooltoy of some kind. Maybe a goldfish or part of a palm tree?

He guessed at what it had been meant for and rubbed the plastic between his fingers.

*Squeeeek*

His fingers rubbed the plastic vinyl again and again. His thoughts trailed off and the sound grew in his head, louder and louder. What if he…

“Hello?” someone said behind Dave.

“Ah..!” Dave exclaimed, somewhat startled. Before him a Target employee was eyeing him nervously.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said, and looked down at Dave’s hands. He seemed to sigh in relief. Dave glanced back at the mall entrance and realised the employee might’ve been wondering if he was trying to steal something away into the mall.

“I don’t know where that came from, but it wasn’t here,” the employee said at the lack of Dave’s response. He had been absentmindedly rubbing the plastic again as he stared into the mall. He turned again when the employee started speaking to him again.

“Yeah, somebody asked where they could find an undamaged version, but we don’t carry pool items this time of year. I suggested the Sear’s at the other end of the mall or Spencer’s. Honestly, I don’t know what that was supposed to be anyway.”

“Oh, thanks,” Dave said and looked down at the plastic. “Well, I’m going to go back to looking around while my, uh, friend is still looking at clothes.”

“Sounds fine,” said the clerk, relieved. He then held out an open hand to Dave. “If you give me that I can throw that away for you.”

“Thanks,” Dave said and started to hand the trash to the clerk, but hesitated. The plastic had rubbed against his hand as he moved to give it to the clerk, reminding him of the oddly satisfied squeaking he had been drawn into earlier.

“Actually, I’ll throw it away later,” Dave said and lowered his hand. “I’m going to use it to annoy my friend if he takes too long.”

“Oooo-kay,” the clerk said, confused. “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”

The clerk turned away and began walking back to the front of the store. Dave watched him go for a second before turning back to the direction of the dressing rooms. He took a step and stopped, startled.

He hadn’t even realised he was sporting an erection, but the movement of it against his jeans made it quickly apparent. He moved into one of the seasonal aisles to adjust it with his jeans. While in the aisle, he looked again at the torn plastic. Now he noticed something else on it. He moved it closer to his face to look at an air nozzle.

Dave smiled and ripped the nozzle off. It was perfect.

He moved the nozzle around his hands, inspecting it. The more he played with it, the more the bits of yellow plastic seemed out of place on the nozzle. He made quick work of removing the remaining yellow bits and brushed the now naked nozzle with his thumb, moving the valve open. He then brought the nozzle up to his lips and sucked it partially in. Once he moved it securely between his teeth with his tongue, he blew into it.

Air whined as it exited the tube in a tune that wouldn’t be out of place in the intro to a 13 year old’s minecraft channel introduction, only missing the metal instruments and replacing it with mouth sounds. This was sure to get Karkat even more pissed.

He looked back down at the plastic in his hands. Although he no longer needed it, it still felt nice on his skin. He shoved it into his right pocket and moved back to the dressing rooms. He absentmindedly continued to breathe through the nozzle between his teeth, needing less and less pressure on it.

Dave was unaware as his lips started to seal to the nozzle in his mouth. His tongue and teeth began to sink into his mouth, leaving more room for the nozzle to inhale and exhale. The cavern of his mouth began to shrink as well, soon leaving only a tube as big as the nozzle’s opening from the nozzle to his throat.

His lips took on a red sheen someone could’ve easily mistaken for lipstick. The Red sheen continued to spread across his face, however. His nostrils closed up and his nose was drawn into his face until Dave just had a small pyramid poking out from his face. The plastic was making quicker work of his lower body. His neck was quickly overtaken with red plastic and his chest soon after.

Dave continued his walk along the men’s section as his breathing through the nozzle continued. He passed a rack with hoodies and paused. He looked down at his own hoodie in puzzlement, his neck squeaking as his head tilted his gaze down. Why was he wearing this? It was too hot! He pulled off the hoodie, revelling the feeling of the fabric of his shirt as it was pulled across his plastic chest and face. He looked at his hands to see his shirt had also come off with the hoodie.

He felt like he should put his shirt back on, but the cool air felt so good against his skin. The breeze felt so good against his plastic stomach. Why was he wearing clothes to begin with? He brought a hand up to scratch at his head in thought, but continued to scratch to keep the squeaking sound of his hands against his plastic hair going. It was much too hot for this, too much clothes, too much thinking…

Dave fumbled with his belt and let it fall to the floor. His fingers fusing together made it difficult for him to untie his shoes but he eventually managed to kick them off when they were untied. He pulled his left sock off of his plastic foot quickly. He attempted to moan at the feeling, but could only let out a more desperate exhale through his nozzle. He removed his other sock slower to prolong the feeling. He unbuttoned his pants next and let them drop to the floor, soon followed by his boxers.

He stood naked in the shirt selection and ran his hands along his body. The feeling of his hands making depressions in his skin as they ran along the plastic with long squeaks made him terribly aroused. He moved his mitten-like hands down to his crotch, whining at the sensitive bulge he now sported, devoid of any of his genitals.

Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be doing something? Right, he wanted to play with Karkat! Dave turned back to the changing rooms. Each step he took rubbed his thighs together, making Dave even more aroused. He soon reached the hall of stalls, relieved to see the attendant gone. It sure was hard to see with the sunglasses on. Dave put them on the counter and sighed at the feeling of his skin re-inflating the depressions the glasses left on the sides of his nose. It was much easier for his painted-on eyes to see without the light-blockers on.

Which stall was Karkat in again? He tried hard to remember as he made his way down the hall. He had barely made two steps before his legs gave out. Dave landed on his stomach, the carpet feeling nice against his exposed body. He looked back behind him, unable to move his legs. His head began to turn to the front, though. He felt his neck and head lock to keep him viewing forward.

There was little he could do to stop his arms from moving to grab his ass behind him, not that he would’ve wanted himself to stop. The strands of carpet moving against his skin felt too good. He continued not to panic as he felt his legs begin to retract back into him.

As his legs were drawn back into his body, he felt his back also begin to depress. His middle section fused with his arms, leaving them as an inflated ring from his ass to his head. His middle section had deflated to a thin plastic sheet with the record logo on his old shirt as a decal on the circular depression. His legs were not fully gone, along with his hands and midsection.

Dave’s continued ignorance of his changes continued as his breathing grew shallower and shallower. There was less and less of his body to convert, now just his brain remained. As a pooltoy he had no need of independent thought, just the need to be played with and used.

Shorter and shorter breaths now, every exhale removing his mind through the air. Shorter and shorter, then nothing.

There was air moving across his skin, creating undetectable ripples. The carpet strands kept his body up, each strand shifting with the air to create a nice feeling on his body. All he needed was someone to play with him. He was okay with waiting, though, people didn’t always have time to play with toys.

“Dave? Were you the one breathing creepily out here?” Came Karkat’s voice from the stall behind him. He heard a latch click and a door open. There was padding on the carpet as Karkat moved forward. “What the fuck?”

Karkat stood unmoving in the hall. Oh god, this couldn’t be happening. His boyfriend had put an honest to god sex toy in the hall. This was way too far, even for him. Karkat was so going to murder Dave, what if that attendant had seen this?

He knelt down to grab the sexual pooltoy up. As soon as his fingers brushed against the plastic vinyl, though, his thoughts were gone. That felt… really nice actually.

Karkat picked up the pooltoy to further inspect it. That ass did actually look really nice, it kind of reminded Karkat of Dave’s. He turned it around to look at the front half.

“Whoa..” Karkat exhaled. There was an unmistakable resemblance to Dave in the toy. It almost had his haircut, the nose was a bit smaller though…

“Fuck,” Karkat said and removed his hand from inside his jeans. He had been absentmindedly pawing at his dick. This was dirty, he was touching himself in Target now. That plastic did feel nice, though. And his erection was in one of the hardest states it had ever been it. Fuck it.

Karkat quickly glanced out of the hall. The woman was still gone, he was alone. He pushed the door back closed and latched it. His hands kind of fumbled with his leather belt, but he soon had it unlatched. He dropped his jeans and boxers quick. He dropped himself down on the plastic chair in the dressing room.

He then brought the pooltoy on his lap, dick in between the exposed asscheeks. He then began rubbing the toy up and down on his dick. Sounds of the toy squeaking only made Karkat groan louder. The plastic felt so good against his dick, he needed to fuck this thing.

Karkat gripped the toy tightly and brought it up and down, up and down, faster and faster. The feeling of the plastic on his cock drove Karkat wild. He groaned as he felt his climax nearing.

Glancing in the mirror, Karkat saw himself fucking what he could imagine being Dave’s ass. God, this was so hot. His cock sputtered and began letting out a stream of cum all over the toy’s ass and flat midsection. Karkat let out a long, low moan. His cock continued to spurt, slowing down as he went empty. In the moments of ecstasy, he let go of the pooltoy and sighed.

The toy quietly bumped against the floor, bouncing up once before settling on the carpet. Karkat continued to gaze down on it, his mind slowly returning. His eyes went wide. He just fucking masturbated in a Target! FUCK!

Karkat quickly stood up. He threw his pulled his pants back up his legs, wincing at his still sensitive cock rubbing the wrong way across his zipper. His belt buckle clinked loudly as Karkat re-did the belt buckle. He looked back down at the pooltoy. It still had his cum on it.

He looked back at the plastic seat where he put the jeans he decided to purchase already. He grabbed the pair on top of the pile and used one of the pant legs to wipe the toy clean. Hopefully he could just have the cashier scan it without picking it up, or hopefully the self-checkout was still open.

He looked back down at the pooltoy. There was no way he was bringing that with him. He opened the door. He then turned back and walked into the stall again, screaming internally. The attendant was back. He poked his head back out.

He felt like collapsing in relief, the woman had headphones in and seemed absorbed in the clothes folding. Anyway, he couldn’t leave that toy in his stall now. There might still be some residue on it, and there was no way he wanted the attendant to think he was some kind of pervert. He knelt down and picked up the pooltoy. He made an effort to put the pleasing sound of the toy squeaking out of his mind as he shoved it into the open slot above the door to the stall opposite his in the hallway. He heard the toy bounce off against the far war and settle on the floor. He then scooped up all the jeans in his room and exited the hall.

“Anything you don’t need?” The attendant asked. Karkat gulped and realised he might still look exhausted. He made an effort to calm his breathing.

“Yeah,” Karkat replied and handed her the jean pile in his left hand. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” The attendant said and turned back to the unfolded clothes. Karkat kept walking to the checkout area.

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

Dave remained on the floor of the stall. It had felt amazing to have Karkat play with him, his cock moving nicely along his ass. Now it was over, however, and nobody was playing with him.

He didn’t know how long he had been on the floor. Eventually he heard the whirring of a vacuum. His stall door opened and the whirring stopped. Whoever was cleaning removed Dave from the floor and placed him on the dressing room counter. The vacuum turned back on.

The whirring continued, someone picked Dave up again. He was moved down the aisle towards the mall entrance. His painted eyes were able to see the section he had removed his clothing in. His hoodie and jeans were gone, no evidence he had been there at all. The person carrying him absentmindedly brushed their thumb across his skin. If only Dave could moan out for more, his nozzle had closed with a final inhale hours ago.

At the mall entrance, he was handed over to a man with a Spencer’s shirt on. The man turned with Dave in hand and walked down the mall. People were walking all around him, and there was light coming in from the skylight signaling early morning. The man turned into the Spencer’s and walked to the back counter. He looked around the store for where the display of weird pool toys was, but couldn’t remember. His thumb brushed against the plastic. Maybe he should just keep it on the counter. His thumb brushed across the plastic again.

Dave was placed on the store counter. The man went into the back room, presumably to stock or count something. Dave didn’t really attempt to guess, it was enough to know he wasn’t going to be played with again by him anytime soon.

The mall music drifted into the open doorway to the Spencer’s, bringing with it customer after customer. Hours dragged on. Anyone who came in for longer than a second found themselves drawn to the back of the store. Sooner or later they would notice Dave on the counter and pick him up to examine him.

Dave was happy as he was poked and prodded over and over again by customers. The squealing of their skin against his plastic calmed him and kept him horribly aroused. He could feel customers’ eyes drawn to him again and again. He could tell some of them had been subconsciously fiddling with their groin or groping his ass in a blatantly sexual way. Sooner or later they would return him to the counter, however, to Dave’s disappointment not wishing to further play with him. The customers seemed too embarrassed after realising their actions to ask the clerk the price of toy Dave. Time rolled on.

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

A familiar presence soon entered the store, to Dave’s excitement.

Karkat walked into the Spencer’s searching for the plastic red toy he had left in Target last night. He had been unable to get in touch with Dave after purchasing his jeans and waiting in the car for two hours. He returned to the Target to find Dave’s clothes and glasses near the changing rooms with his cellphone in his pocket.

The pooltoy had wandered back into his mind. The familiar ass and face had been a lot to take as coincidence, and the feeling of his cock on the toy was unwilling to exit his mind. It was a stupid idea, thinking the pooltoy might be his boyfriend, but it was his only shot.

The Target employee had told him that the other employees had called someone from Spencer’s, thinking the toy to be some strange novelty item. Karkat glanced around and quickly found Dave on the counter. He rubbed his right hand along Dave’s tubular side.

Dave didn’t pay attention to the muffled conversation above him as he was sold to Karkat. His boyfriend’s hand continued to run along his side, driving him wild. Soon he felt himself lifted in the air by Karkat and exiting the store.

Dave could feel the glances from all the other shoppers as Karkat exited the mall. If only the would all play with him, but his owner probably wouldn’t want that. Karkat was so smart.

He heard the familiar beeping of Karkat’s car unlocking remotely. The driver’s door opened and Dave was tossed onto the passenger seat. Karkat soon followed and settled on the driver’s seat, closing the door. He sighed and looked out the windshield before him.

Karkat then turned to the plastic toy on the seat next to him. This was so stupid. He brought one of his hands up to rub his thumb along the side of the toy’s face.

‘Well?” Karkat asked aloud. “Are you Dave? Are you my boyfriend?”

Silence filled the car. Karkat sighed and ran his thumb back down the toy’s face. There was another squeak of plastic moving beneath his thumb. As his thumb moved down Dave’s face, he moved it to the air nozzle. He flicked up the valve and felt the air push past his thumb.

Air began to leave Dave, who began to feel more and more tired. Why was Karkat putting him to sleep? Maybe he should get his attention.

Karkat jolted as the air leaving the toy changed, airflow altered to make a crude tune that reminded Karkat of the annoying mouth dubstep from last night…

Karkat hurridley stopped the air escaping and put his thumb on the air nozzle. He brought the nozzle up to his mouth and began to blow air back into the toy.

Dave felt himself re-inflate. He soon realised it was his boyfriend filling him up with air and felt stupidly happy at his owner filling him up with air from his lungs.

Karkat removed his lips from Dave’s nozzle. Dave felt as though he had just left one of the best make out sessions he had ever been in. The air nozzle was resealed and he was placed back on the car seat. Karkat just stared at Dave.

‘Well?” Karkat asked. “...Aren’t you going to do something?”

Dave could only stare with painted on eyes as he waited for Karkat to continue to play with him.

“Gah!” Karkat screamed and pounded the steering wheel. “This is so stupid! Why am I acting like an idiot!”

He turned back to the toy and grabbed it again. He moved it to look at its face.

“What happened to Dave, huh?” Karkat said, though not really expecting an answer. He turned back to look out the windshield. His fingers began subconsciously rubbing along Dave’s body again. His mind flashed with memories, Dave blowing into the nozzle, discarding his clothes, getting fucked by Karkat...

“Hah!” Karkat said and looked back at Dave. “You are Dave!”

The squeaking of Dave’s skin began to drive itself back into Karkat’s mind. There might be some way to turn Dave back, but right now he wanted to torture dave a bit more for a few days, a punishment for embarrassing him last night. Karkat licked his lips and realised he was hard again. Maybe a bit longer than a few days.

Karkat’s hands found their way back to Dave’s ass and he squeezed on the sexy inflated plastic. He turned the toy to begin to grind his denim-covered cock along Dave’s ass again, but stopped as he realised he was still in a parking lot. He tossed Dave back on the passenger seat and started the car.

As Karkat backed out, his mind drifted him to images of home and the many times in the future he would make time to play with Dave…

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

Some months later, Karkat was laying down on his bed while on his phone. He was absentmindedly pawing at his erection underneath his jeans and looking at twitter. Eventually he sighed and tossed his phone to the other side of the bed. Karkat then undid his jeans and pulled them down enough to grab at his erect cock.

Karkat then stood up and walked to the closet in front of the bed. He opened the door and knelt down to retrieve the Dave pooltoy, laying on the floor of the closet. Karkat turned and walked back to the bed.

He had long since stopped leaving the toy on his bed. It was too distracting, leaving him more horny than usual. Karkat did use Dave quite a lot still, though. Dave was turned around and Karkat’s cock fell neatly between his asscheeks in the familiar position. There was some staining from all the times Karkat had blown a load on Dave’s ass that only served to make Karkat more excited.

He bobbed Dave up and down on his cock, over and over. The sound of the plastic rubbing against his hands and dick drove Karkat wild. The feeling of the plastic skin against his cock felt even better as he was quickly drawn into a climax. He came on Dave’s ass and breathed out a sigh.

He was using his sleeve to wipe away most of the cum when he noticed that his cock was hard again, ready to pound Dave again. Karkat smiled and grunted, grabbing his cock to reposition it over the toy’s ass. All Dave felt was pure happiness at how often Karkat was playing with him.

Art by @chutzpah-draws

#mod sb #transformationstuck #transformation #homesmut #gay

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sabraeal · 6 years

Note

Shidan/Garrack and a love potion gone wrong

The Kit-Cat clock up on the wall’s been acting up again.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-purr-purr-tock. No wonder it’s been running slow.

Shidan tries not to notice – it just encourages the thing – but even with the pneumatic engraver going, even with the Quiet-Me he’s carved into the crown molding of the office, it’s obvious.

He lets out a huff. This is what you get with antiques: attitude.

“That’s what you get for letting mom practice spellwork on whatever she could get her hands on,” pipes a voice from behind him, back where there’s a cluster of what Yuzuri calls alternative seating options and Shidan calls expensive trash bags.

He doesn’t turn – Don’t-See-Mes are tricky things, and he’s just managed to get it anchored to the monogram; the last thing he needs is for the damn thing to get ideas and start turning the whole watch invisible as he’s working on it – but he does say, “That’s what I get for your grandmother letting her spell whatever she wants. God know why she thought a clock needed an opinion.”

“Knowing Mom? Probably so she could argue with it.”

That’s true, but Shidan knows better than to say. If there’s one way to make sure something will make its way to Crystal, it’s to tell Kirito right before he goes home. Won’t take more than an hour for the texts to start, asking why he’d give the kid ammunition for one of their neighborhood-famous rows, or whose side he’s on.

Shidan’s of the firm opinion that if you’ve got the gift, and you’re still putting crystals on your electronics and magnets on your light switches, you should probably expect some push back from your magic-minded son. But that’s not really his business.

“I’ll fix it,” he grumbles instead, trying to ignore the dubious chirp from above him. He wasn’t the one that spelled it for an opinion. “Probably just needs to get wound up again.”

If the next tick sounds like a hiss instead, that’s not his problem either.

“Can’t you just get it counter-charmed?” Kirito asks, somewhere between thoughtful and petulant, like most kids his age. “It’s not like Mom’s much good. Not compared to you.”

He’s too old to let that puff up his ego any, but he does allow a grin where his nephew can’t see. “Maybe so, but she wasn’t dumb either. All her charms at that age repel my magic. Didn’t like me meddling in her education, I gather.”

Or her diary. But that’s not a story for this audience.

Yet.

The kid’s not content to let it drop, of course. “Why not take it somewhere else? It’s not like you’re the only enchanter in the city, and anyone’s gonna be better than Mom.”

“Maybe I like it.”

He doesn’t. Nostalgia’s for your own mistakes, and having to live with a clock that thinks it’s too good for little things like accuracy or telling time at all doesn’t tickle the soft memories of his childhood. But taking it elsewhere means taking it to someone older, someone who remembers him as a know-it-all teenager or a kid who would cry when a pretty shop assistant talked to him. The last thing he wants is a walk down memory lane as he fixes yet another of Crystal’s mistakes.

That’s the problem with this town: it’s too damn small.

“Seattle is not small,” Kiritochimes in. Shidan finally twists to look at him, flipped around on a bean bag chair so old Shidan’shalf-convinced at least one of the people in this room was conceived on it.“You’re just cantankerous.”

He glances at the pattern – arainbow paisley that saw better days when Free Love was a principal philosophy– and amends his estimate. Both the people in this room would have been named Beanif their mothers hadn’t been so viscerally into the mystical Far East during theirpregnancies.

“It’s a flood plain six hundredthousand people are collectively too stubborn to leave,” Shidan grouses,putting the engraving tip back to the metal. “It’s small. And the Marinersnever win anything. Also, who is teaching you that kind of language?”

“High school.”

Shidan shakes his head. “Shameful.”

“Would you prefer ‘asshole’?”

“Just don’t let your mother hearyou. Also,” Shidan twists his head to look at his nephew, “shouldn’t you bein school?”

Kirito scoffs. “It’s three o’clock,man. What do I attend, prison?”

He glances up at the clock, wincing.Damn, he’d been hoping he’d finish this Don’t-See-Me charm tonight. “Some kidsdo extracurriculars.”

“Bugging you is my extracurricular.”

If that isn’t the truth. “I don’thand out college credits.”

“Neither does JV soccer.” Kirito jerkshis head back toward the shop. “By the way, you got strangers.”

“Strangers?” Shidan stands upso fast he bangs his knees. “Damn! Next time lead with that!”

“Nah.”

If there’s a perk to all this, it’sthat there’s not a single caster in this town he doesn’t know.

It’s also, most of the time, hisbiggest problem, but he knows every single person that has legitimatebusiness with him, and who just decided to poke in while their tea was steepingat Tea Republik. Or, more likely, who was trying to find the dispensary threestreets over.

These three don’t look like they fitany of the above.

He’s used to getting young girls in here, ones that look like they got their fashion sense straight from The Craft, but these ones have on tank stops and see-through cover-ups, baring far too much smile to be any of his usual high school hopefuls.

“I love your headband,” one girlsays to Yuzuri, lifting the giant frame of her sunglasses. “Those are like, catears right?”

“So cute,” another chimes in.“I love the little pearls. Where did you get it?”

Lab accident and some air-tightglamour, courtesy of the Emerald City’s Mistress.

“H&M,” Yuzuri offers coolly.

“Oh my god.” A girl presses a handto her chest. “I love H&M. Those are where your shorts are from too,right? I can tell.”

Suzu, trapped up against a displayof verbena, sends him a look that he’s only seen in war movies, just before theplucky sidekick gets taken out by a bunker buster.

Oh, for pete’s sake.

Shidan strides up to the group, hismost customer-friendly smile propping up his mouth. Not that he uses it forreal customers, but – there’s something about this town that enjoys surliness,and he doesn’t want to suddenly make himself interesting. “May I helpyou ladies?”

“Totally,” one tells him cheerfully,sinking her hands into the pockets of her high-waisted shorts. “Do you selllove potions?”

His smile pulls thin. “I’m sorry,this is an apothecary. If you’re looking for Harry Potter merchandise, there’sa toy store just down the –”

“No, no.” She waves a hand with alaugh. “We’re not looking for kid stuff. The real deal.”

He breathes in, letting the air runacross the roof of his mouth, huffing it out the canals of his nose. It’s justthe soft hum of Yuzuri’s magic, mixed with herbs and the more static fervor ofSuzu’s that settles on his tongue.

“The dispensary is over on –”

“Listen, I talked to a goth girl.”The girl leans hard on the counter, focused. “I know this place is the realdeal. How much?”

Shidan lets his smile slip, lets hisface turn as stern and annoyed at he is. “We don’t sell trash here. Who toldyou we would?”

“We just figured,” another girl sayswith a shrug. “The ones that lady is selling are so expensive.”

“Competitive markets,” the third girl peeps,looking not sure at all about the turn in conversation. “It drives down the price.”

His teeth grind in his ears. That lady.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who is huckingsnake oil and contraband spellwork.

“Well, you won’t find any of thathere,” he grits out. “Make sure to spread the word.”

The girl rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

“Now, boss,” Suzu starts as the doorchimes closed behind the girls. “Don’t jump to any –”

“That lady,” he snaps. “Weknow exactly which lady in this city would try to sell high schoolers –”

“College kids,” Yuzuri corrects.“Come on, Shidan, they were wearing U-Dub swag.”

“The point stands!” he huffs,folding his arms across his chest. “There’s only one person who would –”

The chimes tinkle above the door,admitting another three patrons. These, he knows.

“Speak of the devil–” Yuzuri giveshim a glare –”‘s apprentices.”

“Yuki!” his own calls out with apointedly friendly wave. Shidan scowls, hunching over the counter. Fraternizingwith the enemy, that’s what this is. “Can we help you?”

Garrack’s apprentices are a mixedbunch; they’ve been in here before for this-or-that, the woman having nevergotten much better at managing her stores than she was when she trained underArluleon. He knows them by look if not by name: a sullen, dark-haired boythat’s always poking his sharp nose into the belladonna and verbena, far tooyoung to be so advanced in his studies; a girl – woman, Yuzuri wouldinsist, though the both of them would barely be old enough for graduate studiesif they weren’t neck-deep in this world – with hair so red it should be dyed,only there’s no dye that can get that sort of color, not with chemicals alone,and –

And the last one. He’s tall,dark-haired, ethnically ambiguous, and curiously hard to look directly at. There’s something about the air around him, the way it presses down,heavy, when a body gets too close, the way it snaps and spits when someone’smagic gets a little too friendly.

Nothuman, would be Shidan’s guess, but it’s rude to ask, and even worse tosay. Good way to end up a frog or a lamppost, throwing that sort of talk around.

The girl is the one the approaches. The boy peels off seconds from the door, bee-lining for where Suzu’s started restocking the verbena, but the man hugs toher like a shadow, the eerie gold of his eyes tracking over the shelves like he half expects an ambush.

Gosh, what do kids even get into these days?

She gives Yuzuri a smile when she hits the counter, exchanging polite how-are-yous, but it’shim her eyes are fixed to, focus never wavering.

“Can I help you?” he ventures when the conversation comes to an uneasy pause.

Her hair bobs brightly under the lights. “I’d like to make a commission.”

He blinks, and in the second of hesitation, her shadowsnaps, hand banding around her arm and pulling her into a low but clearlyintense personal conference.

“Just give ‘em a minute.” Yuzuri sighs, turning back to theshelves. “Obi hates anyone spending anything on him.”

The never quite finish; Shidan loses his patience first.

“What for?” he asks finally,interrupting a low argument from the man. It earns him a reproachful look he’d rather not be on this side of, but – he’s running a business, not couples’ counseling. Time is money.

“I need a Don’t-Look-Here.” Hermouth purses, thoughtful. “Or a See-Me-Not?”

“I don’t need to get hit by a car,”her shadow grumbles, “a glamour would do.”

“If you want a glamour, you shouldbe asking the Mistress for that.” Five years ago it would have pained him toadmit it, but there’s no use pretending he can weave light like she can. Notnow.

She winces. “Ah, we – we tried that.Apparently Obi’s magic isn’t…harmonious with Haki’s.”

His gaze cut towards the kid. Notexactly a surprise. “Ha.”

“She thought a charm would workbetter – or, some metalworking?” The girl offers him an embarrassed smile. “Shesaid there was no one better on this coast.”

Shidan puffs up at that, but he’snot in his twenties, to be swayed by a little flattery. “I can see what can bedone. For a price.”

Yuzuri huffs. “Shidan –”

The girl though, she just gets focused.“What were you thinking?”

“She would never!” Shirayuki gaspswhen he’s done. Her reaction is so over the top – hand pressed her her chest,mouth and eyes gaping – he’d think it’s fake, if he wasn’t so sure this girlwas incapable of a lie.

“That’s banned magic!” she explains,affronted. “Garrack would never.”

Behind her, Ryuu and Obi exchangelooks.

Shidan points. “I want to talk tothem.”

The apartment is the third floor ofa cramped craftsman, sandwiched between a 24-hour laundromat and a store thatsells vegan foods for either humans or pets, Shidan can’t tell. The steps creakas he tip-toes up the narrow stairs, having to duck under low-hanging wallsevery flight. It’s a contrary little pile; just likeGarrack Gazalt herself.

The ‘3′ hanging on her door iscrooked, missing a screw at the bottom, at the mercy of her guests andGarrack’s mood. When he knocks, it skitters another quarter inch to the right,and he uses the interminable time she takes to answer to straighten it. All itneeds is a ninety-nine cent trip to the hardware store and it’d be good as new,but –

The door swings open. The woman whostands there can nearly look him in the eye.

“Well, well,” Garrack drawls,leaning against the door. “Shidan Weise. What did I do now?”

As always, she leaves him scramblingfor an answer. “Love potion,” he manages, gritting his teeth when she grins.

“You better come in, then,” shetells him, turning her back. “This could take a while. Tea? I have a pot on.”

“Yes. Wait –” she always does this –“No, I’m here to tell you to stop –“

“–Sullying Arluleon’s name, being ashame to the profession, et cetera, et cetera.” The kettle whistles – she musthave spelled it hot, which is not the proper use of her gift – and hestrains to hear her over the banging in her kitchen. “You know that’s not hisreal name, right? It was Kevin. Also he’s been dead for ten years, but who iscounting.”

“He still commands –”

“A decent following despite thewhole being-dead thing, yes, I’m aware.” She sets a mug in front of him, chippedon the rim. “I’m not doing anything he wouldn’t, the sly old dog.”

“Love potions are prohibited by thecouncil,” he manages, finally, wishing he didn’t sound so – so pedantic.“If you’re caught selling one – to mundanes no less –”

“I’m not making love potions,Shidan,” she scoffs. “I’d never.”

“I had some girls in my shop thatthought otherwise.”

“My apprentices wanted to raisemoney for something, and a girl came in looking for something to make herboyfriend stop playing Call of Duty.” Garrack shrugs, her sweater slipping offher shoulder. It’s…distracting. “So we brewed some rose hips with an infusionof Come-Hither, and suddenly we’re making love potions.”

She levels him with a look thatmakes his heart pound, that makes his skin feel two sizes too tight. “It’s allin good fun, Shidan.”

“I don’t –” she shifts, frecklesvisible right where he’s sitting and – “you put something in my tea.”

“You were concerned,” she tells himsimply. “So I thought I’d give you a dose. Easy to control, isn’t it?”

That is…optimistic of her. “Yes. Ofcourse. Very.”

“Unless…” She slips fromher chair to the couch he’s currently trying to disappear into, mouth curled with amusement. It isn’t embarrassing enough to be – to be half hard just looking at her, oh no; she has to know too. “You’re havingsome reaction.”

Typical. he should have expected she’d try something like this.

“Is that –” she leans forward just enough to for his gaze to flirt with what might be beneath; he licks his lips – “isthat common?”

“Hmm. Yes.”

Her arm stretches along the back of the couch, the skin of her forearm electric against the thin material of his shirt. His throat makes a dull thunk when she crosses her legs, when her foot accidentally brushes along the seam of his trousers, making every hair stand up on his calf.

This is interminable. He’s in hell. It’s the only explanation.

“But,” she murmurs, so close he can see the freckles in her eyes, brown and gold against blue, “only when there’s an attraction already in place. Hence why it worked sowell on the boyfriend.”

“A-ahh…”

“And of course,” her eyelashes flutter, and he has a front row seat to when her gaze drops straight to his mouth, “when it’s served with intent.”

“Oh, Jesus,” he pants, grabbing ahandful of sweater and pulling. “Fuck it.”

Garrack grins against his mouth. “Finally.”

#kaedix #shidan/garrack #akagami no shirayukihime #Rare Pair Promptathon #modern magic AU #my fic #ans #i was half tempted to do something canon-wise #to do something tricky with the trope #but then the idea for this came #so please enjoy a Seattle-based magic AU #full of grumpy apothecary owners and glamour

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thespookyswan · 6 years

Text

Losing to You

A Gift for @penningmisnomer about our OC’s. Spy AU. I put a lot of effort into it! And this is only the first part! <3 Hope everyone who reads it enjoys it!

WC: 8,313

The crisp autumn air brought forth a chilling breeze that rustled his undone jacket back behind him. It was stronger where he stood, under the protection of the platform, the walls making the wind bounce and multiply. He kept attempting to light the cigarette that rested between his lips, but every match he lit was blown out before he could get it to the tip. He sometimes cursed his cheap nature, wondering why he only stole matches from unsuspecting golf courses and places that just left them around, instead of just buying a lighter like a normal person.

He gave up on the cigarette finally, spitting it out into the tracks before him. He glanced across the way, the large trees towering above the parallel platform bright fall colors, whistling in the breeze and falling off in masses, creating a flurry of color that he just couldn't find any joy in. One thought flooded his thoughts, bringing a sort of sadness that he couldn't shake off.

Conner would love this. Conner always loved the bright colors that the autumn brought with it. He was born in the same season and would always brag about the perfection of the weather that he shared a birthday with. Such a trivial thing to brag over, Trevor often thought, but that was just who Conner was, someone who could find the beauty and joy in everything.

He tore his eyes away from the trees and shook Conner out of his head, glancing around the platform afterwards to see who he was sharing the train with. It was oddly empty for a train platform, but he attributed that to the small town he was in. A woman stood alone in the back corner, her eyes focused on her phone before her. On a bench in the center there was a younger gentleman, his hat down over his eyes and a messy work bag at his side. There was a small family of four on a second bench, the parents trying to distract their very noisy children with toys and electronics. He hoped he didn't have a cabin near them, or even on the same cart. It was a long ride, four days total, and he couldn't imagine hearing the annoying brats that whole time.

It was almost as if they were all trying to avoid him, keeping back behind the columns that held the platform up. Occasionally the woman would glance up from her phone to look at Trevor, but when their eyes met she would return to the safety of the screen, her fingers flickering away, her eyes avoiding his at any cost. The parents too would glance at him, but they were much subtler about it, pretending to avert their gaze elsewhere when he would look in their direction. He didn’t think too hard on it, knowing is casual business attire was probably an oddity for where they were headed.

Finally, the blistering whistle of the train rung through the station, and he picked up his backpack and bag and threw them on his shoulders, beyond ready to get on the train and sit down. The train roared into the station, bringing a stronger wind that nearly knocked him off his feet. He watched as the passengers exited on the opposite side, talking loudly as they exited and made their way off. Significantly more people than were getting on, he thought, but attributed it to the early time of day. People going to work.

As the doors on their side opened, he stepped onto the train and flashed his ticket at the teenager at the entrance, who just nodded his head and pointed him in the direction of his cabin. He pushed his way through the small halls until he found it, cringing at the number on the door. 912, Conner's birthday. One he first saw it on his ticket, he found himself nearly throwing up at the eerie coincidence. It was as if God himself was spitting on him with every step he took, reminding him of what he did.

He pulled the door open quickly and stepped inside the small cabin, chucking his bags onto the tiny pull out bed as he slid the door closed behind him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe the sick feeling out of his stomach with any sort of willpower.

"Pull yourself together, Trevor." He muttered, pulling his coat off and hanging it on the back of the door, blocking the hideous number from his vision. He rested his back to the door and dug his fingers into the skin of his hand, the irritation of everything around him growing worse as the loud family made their way down his hall. His breathing picked up as a ringing split his head in what felt like three, the blistering young voices, the number, and the tiredness he was experiencing all hitting him at the same time, driving him further and further into a deep hole-

A door shut, and the voices faded away as they made their way into another cart. He released his palm and slid down to the ground, opening his eyes and staring out the window at the top of the empty platform, banners for long passed events hanging proudly as if they still had something to say. The silence was so welcoming to him that he was nearly falling asleep where he sat, and finally he yanked himself up. He grabbed his bags and promptly dropped them on the floor, taking their place on the bed and drifting into sleep fast.

His vision was blurry, the steady stream of thick blood dripping down over his left eye making it incredibly hard to see. He tried to keep his head up and ignore the pain, process the situation, but the force of the hit was making him dizzy. From where he sat on his knees, he could see the figures before him struggling in a clear battle to secure a gun, but who was who was impossible for him to pick out, the darkness of the night only making things worse.

"Trevor!" Conner yelled, his voice strained and scared, "Do something!"

Trevor shook his head, trying to pull himself back into reality, but only making the feeling of uncertainty worse. He crawled forward, the gun that rested before him split in two, wavering and seemingly moving. He tried to wipe the blood from his eye, but it only smudged and blended across his right eye. He was better than this, he knew he was, and Conner needed him. His own incompetence made the situation only heavier on him.

Conner let out a cry of pain and Trevor saw him stumble back and away from his attacker, but not for long, as the other man stepped quickly after him, trying to grab the gun Conner was still held onto out of his hand yet again.

Trevor finally managed to get his hands on the second gun, and with much difficulty he switched the safety off and raised it forward, towards the ongoing struggle between Conner and the other spy. Everything was still spinning, and there was no way to determine who he was shooting at, but for some reason, some ungodly reason, he still just fired.

A still silence split through the area as Trevor's vision slowly cleared. There was only one person before him, Conner, his lovely Conner, pale in the face. Trevor tried to process what was happening, when suddenly, streams of blood started to leak out of Conner's face, out of his eyes and his ears, his mouth and his nose, just thick, red streams. He collapsed to his knees as a red blossom started to spread across his chest as well, down his sides, pooling around him in massive amounts.

"Trevor... What did you do?" Conner whispered, lifting his hand forward to reach for Trevor. The crimson dribbled from his fingertips to the ground below, and the thick liquid started to move towards where Trevor was sat, unable to move an inch.

"Conner, Conner- I didn't mean- I never thought this would happen! I didn't think at all!" Trevor cried out, trying so hard to move, to get away from the blood, but his body wouldn't listen. He screamed as it began to work up his legs, covering him in the warm, heavy fluid, crushing everything as it made its way up his body.

Conner simply watched as he was engulfed, his blue eyes burning in the moonlight. Trevor attempted to speak again, but only invited the blood into his mouth, and it flowed down his throat, choking him. Conner's head fell to the side, and the last thing Trevor heard before he was swallowed whole was a loud, splintering crash.

It had happened again.

He sat in the uncomfortable chair across from the bed, staring at the wet stain on the mattress before him. His pants were hung in the small bathroom his room daunted, and the sheets soaking in the tub. At this point, it was so common, he was no longer ashamed. The nightmares he experienced were worthy of the reaction his body had to them. It was more so embarrassing that it happened here, not even on his first night, and there was no way in hell he was telling anyone about it. He'd rather sleep in the mess than have to admit to some poor worker on the train that he, a full-grown man, had wet himself.

He needed a drink.

He stood up and dug through his bag, yanking out a pair of jeans and slipping them on. He ripped the tag off and tossed it in the trash bin, rubbing his legs at the feeling of denim. He couldn't remember the last time he wore something so casual just because he wanted to. His job was one that called for a much more professional attire, and even when he did do a job where he acted as a civilian, it wasn't like he picked out his outfit. They'd called to him from the window of a small store he'd passed in the last town he hid in, and he decided to buy a few just because he finally could.

He pulled off the button down he was wearing and after a moment of deliberation, tossed it in the bin as well. Something about him was still holding on to the past, to the job, to what he was by keeping his old clothes. He decided now to give it up, and pulled on the loose-fitting tee shirt, surprised by the comfort it provided.

He ran his hands through his hair but knew it was no luck, the curly mess never listened, and he had no desire to look at himself in a mirror and mess with hair gel for a bartender he'd speak to maybe twice.

Finally, he exited his room, stepping out into the shaky train car and glancing around to see any sort of signage that would point him to the dinner car. An old, rickety sign hung above the door that split the cars, pointing him in the direction he needed to go. He closed his door behind him and made his way across, happy to find the next car was his destination. Quite the easy trip to and fro.

Much to his delight, the dinner car was totally empty, minus the bartender, who was tucked in the far corner, cleaning a glass with an old rag. It was all very movie-esc, and Trevor made his way to the tiny bar, taking a seat and waiting for the man to turn his attention away from cleaning.

"Must be an easy trip for you, huh?" Trevor asked, unable to help it. He was an extrovert, and the lack of human contact he'd had the past few months was eating him alive. Many bartenders were subjected to his desperate attempt at connection and conversation.

"Most are easy trips. Not everyone is an alcoholic." The bartender replied, glancing over at Trevor finally. He was younger, and Trevor imagined they couldn't have much of a difference in age. His skin was dark and smooth, as if he'd never had a speck of acne in his life, and light hazel eyes complimented his skin tone beautifully. His hair was styled neatly, shaved at the sides with the thick strands all at the top, and very clearly bleached blond. He had a smug look on his face, like his comment had been a hit at Trevor.

"You don't have to be an alcoholic to enjoy a good drink." Trevor gave in return, not trying to fight with the snarky young man, but not taking kindly to his comment.

The bartender rolled his eyes and just grunted in return, grabbing a clean glass and waiting for Trevor to pick his poison.

"Diet Rum and Coke." He said right away, and the other man scoffed and muttered something about 'diet,' but did as requested and filled the glass up with the soda before dumping a heavy shot of rum into the glass, sliding it across to Trevor.

"Thank you." Trevor sighed, grabbing the glass and taking his first sip, letting out a small sigh of relief as the alcohol flooded into his system.

"That'll be 3.23." The bartender slid a small piece of paper towards Trevor, who had totally locked up at the sentence. He stared at the bill with quivering eyes, the numbers burning against the page. Three twenty-three. March twenty third, that was the day Conner was taken from him. No- that was the day that he lost Conner. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for what had gone down.

In some desperate attempt to wash away the dark feeling that was creeping through him, he slugged down the rest of his drink in one swift motion, letting the glass hit the counter afterwards as he coughed just a bit. The bartender watched him with a raised brow, his hands rested on his hips.

“The man that preaches about enjoying a good drink decimates a well made Rum and Coke. What, did the idea of paying for your bitchy drink get to you-“ but before he could finish, Trevor slammed a five dollar bill on the counter and quickly turned away, rushing back to his room.

As he made his way through the dinner car he caught a glimpse at his own reflection; the walls along the sides of the car furnished a mirror that showed nearly his whole frame. He stopped dead, realizing this was the first time he’d seen himself in weeks, probably. He avoided mirrors like they were some sort of plague, the idea of looking at himself almost sickening.

He truly wondered who the person staring back at him was. It was clear to him now why the other people on the platform were avoiding and stealing glances at him, or even why the bartender made the alcoholic comment.

He truly looked like he was sickly, his once tan face a greyish color, pale beyond comparison to anything he’d seen. His eyes, once a bright, vibrant green, were red around the edges, making him look truly like a drug addict; the accompanying bags that rested under his eyes and the long, healing scar above did not help. He hadn’t realized how out of control his hair at gotten- the brown, curly mop that he normally kept well cut and styled was a shaggy mess, spraying in a thousand different directions. To top it all off, he was thin, skin and bones, almost nothing to him. The new tee-shirt he had hung from him, and the jeans barely sat on his hips. The strong, well maintained person he used to be was gone. He had died along with Conner.

He took a shuddering breath in and ripped his eyes away from himself, finally making his way back to his room. Outside, the countryside roared by, endless amounts of foliage and farmland, covered beautifully by the pale orange of the setting sun. He took a seat in the lumpy chair, one hand on his head as he watched the outside fade past and listened to the mechanical rattling of the rails below. He’d ridden a train so many times at this point in his life that the sway of it all meant nothing to him- it was almost all peaceful, and he found himself falling away into another deep sleep.

Before him was a mirror, clear as day, probably the cleanest mirror he’d ever looked into in all of his life. It was almost sickening that staring back at him was the mess that he’d become, some sort of creature that he couldn’t even recognize if he tried. He knew that it was him staring back, but at the same time, wished it was somebody else. He looked away, trying to figure out where he was, his brain not connecting the dots.

A thud brought his attention back to the mirror, and his blood instantly ran cold. In the mirror was not only his own reflection, but the haunting reflection of Conner, dried blood splattered across his face, his pale arms wrapped around Trevor in a bear hug, holding him in place. Some part of Trevor knew this wasn’t reality; Conner wasn’t tall enough to lean over his shoulder the way this thing was, but something else told him that being dead, Conner could do whatever the hell he wanted.

“Look at you, finally getting what you deserve.” Conner whispered, pressing his cold, blue lips against Trevor’s ear, sending the worst of chills through his body.

“Conner, please…” Trevor whispered, slowly bringing his hand up to rest it on Conner’s own, the sick feeling in his stomach growing worse as his hand touched the chapped, freezing skin of Conner’s hand.

“Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me. You killed me.” Conner hissed, moving his hand away, scrapping sharp fingernails up Trevor’s chest, cutting him deeply. He let out a pained noise and watched as the blood dripped from the cuts in his shirt before looking back at Conner with desperation.

“You know that I would do anything, Conner, anything to get you back!” He tried, his voice pathetic and small. Conner’s lips turned into a scowl and he let out a deep, angry chortle.

“Then why are you running away, Trevor? All you do is run away, when things get tough. You were going to leave me, I know you were. Things were getting too hard for you, with our job, and you couldn’t take it, and you were going to run, just like you’re doing now, because you’re a coward!” Conner screamed right in his ear, and he shook his head around, trying hard not to cry.

“Conner that’s not true, that’s not true, I loved you, I love you-“

“You can run forever, Trevor, they’ll catch you now or never.” Conner whispered then, and the mirror shattered, the broken pieces flying back and imbedding themselves into his body, cutting him deeply, causing pain worse than he’d ever felt to go rushing, flooding through him.

The remains of the mirror fell back with a sickening crunch.

“I think you look worse than yesterday.”

The dinner car was empty, breakfast over and lunch still hours away. Trevor sat alone in a booth, nursing a coffee and a plate that he hadn’t bothered to touch. Much to his dismay, the bartender doubled as a waiter, the small trip not calling for two people to work the small car.

“I don’t recall asking your opinion.” Trevor muttered, glancing over at the other man with half a glare. He was resting against a booth opposite to his own, having just finished cleaning up what Trevor could only assume was the remains of the breakfast the loud family had eaten.

“Wow. Yesterday you were fishing for conversation, and today you’re all rude about it? Excuse me.” The bartender scoffed and wheeled away the cart with the dirty dishes, leaving Trevor alone in the cart. He sort of regretted his harsh response and dug his fingers into his eyes before glancing back to make sure the man was gone.

He dug in his pockets and pulled out his cigarettes, quickly pulling one up to his lips and flicking a match ablaze before finally lighting the stick and taking a much-needed long drag. He let his head fall back against the seat behind him, his eyes closed as he let the puff of smoke out slowly.

“Those things will kill you.” Conner said, sitting across the booth from him. The sunlight flowed in through the window, making his long, black hair shine. He always kept it up in a very neat bun, protocol for their line of work, but today it was all out of place, nobody watching them. The normally well-kept strands were in complete disorder, and Trevor found it enduring and quite frankly, adorable.

“They’ll kill me no sooner than you’ll die, I bet.” Trevor gave Conner a bit of a cocky grin, and Conner rolled his eyes in return, but his own lips split into a small smile. Trevor’s eyes focused on the very noticeable, yet, very cute gap that Conner sported between his teeth. If they weren’t in a public place he’d lean right across the table and kiss Conner, kiss those plump lips and the cute gap and let Conner know how much he loved him.

“Why didn’t I kiss him?” Trevor muttered, sliding his hand down his face in a dramatic fashion as he relived that moment- that comment, that god awful comment that he just had to say to Conner over in his head.

“Because that would be sexual assault.” The snarky bartender had returned, and he reached across the table to snatch the cigarette right out of Trevor’s mouth, flicking it into his coffee to put it out. Trevor let out an aghast noise, frustrated at the rudeness of the other man.

“I was smoking that! And I was drinking that!” Trevor gestured at the coffee cup with both hands, staring at the bartender, who, in return, gestured at a ‘NO SMOKING’ sign on the wall not far from Trevor.

“This is a public place. Kill yourself in the privacy of our cabins, please, leave the lungs of people who don’t inhale toxic chemicals alone.” The bartender took his coffee from the table and went to walk away. Trevor spun in his seat to look after him, his face heated with embarrassment and anger.

“What is your name! I’m going to tell someone about this-“

“Kirk. Tell whoever you want.” The bartender exited through the back door, and Trevor left out a long huff before grabbing a piece of toast off of the plate and leaving, unable to even think about listening to another second of ‘Kirk.’ If Kirk was even his real name.

“Star Trek bastard. Who does he think he is?” He grumbled, opening the door to head back to his cart and nearly smacking directly into a woman. Luckily, they both caught themselves in time, and Trevor quickly stepped to the side to let her in.

“Sorry.” She said quickly, forcing a friendly laugh and stepping past him. She was clearly beyond nervous to be around him, and it reminded him violently of his current state. He let out a small sigh and just left, deciding there was no reason to scare the poor woman any more than he already had.

The rest of the day droned by as he kept himself tucked in his room, reading some old fantasy novel that had belonged to Conner. He told himself time after time, when Conner was still with him, that he would start to read them too, so they could talk about them together. Conner watched soccer and baseball for him, and yet he never got around to just reading a book- a book that was actually pretty good- for Conner.

He had no reason to leave the safety of his room, deciding he’d avoid Kirk at nearly any and all costs. He figured the bastard couldn’t work all day, so he’d make his way to the dinner cart around sunset. Then only two days would remain, and it might take a bit more planning, but he figured he could pull it off. It wasn’t like he ate often anyway.

“You really grind my gears, Trevor, you know?” Conner huffed, pouting his cheeks out and glancing up at Trevor. They were walking down a packed city street, side by side, their shoulders close together but hands never touching.

“I could say the same for you.” Trevor shot back, and Conner shoved into him just a bit, making him stumble to the side. Trevor laughed and looked back down at the other man, raising his brows to indicate he was wondering why.

“You never eat! Ever! You’re so damn unhealthy. I’ve never seen someone as unnatural as you. You live on cigarettes, coffee, and lettuce, I swear to god. Your organs must be screaming for nutrition of any kind. I looked like some pig in that restaurant, with you ordering a side salad!” Conner exclaimed, gesturing his hands around the way he did when he was excited or passionate about something.

Trevor couldn’t disagree- he and Conner were violently different in their eating habits, and it showed. While he was all lean, thick muscle, Conner was more of a thick, curvy, squishy thing. He had thighs that were so perfect, Trevor found himself nearly salivating at the thought, his eyes fluttering down to glance at them as they walked. The tight dress pants Conner was wearing really made them look wonderful, his hips swaying, his ass looking oh so perfect-

“Hey! My eyes are up here!” Conner said, but was unable to hold back the laugh that came with it. Trevor joined in with him, snorting at the silly line and throwing his arm around Conner’s shoulders in a way that, to anyone watching, was just a friendly gesture. To them, it was more, a shared feeling of intimacy and love as they were pressed close together with no barriers.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s hard not to think about such a fulfilling meal, you know?” Trevor teased, keeping his voice dangerously low. Conner let a breath out of his nose and turned his face the other way, shaking his head around a bit. He brought his hand up and shoved Trevor’s face away, separating them.

“You- You don’t get off that easily, Trevor!” He shook his head and wagged his finger around, “I’m putting you on a diet, but, like, opposite. You have to eat, Trevor, I can’t… I can’t lose you, okay? Whatever goes on in that weird brain of yours, just, let me help.”

Conner’s voice was sweet, and sincere, and Trevor dropped the playful act he had previous and gently pressed up against Conner’s arm, pretending he was more squished from the passerby’s. Conner glanced up at him, a look of worry in his pale blue eyes, and Trevor nodded in return.

“Alright. I’ll listen to you.”

If that Conner could see him now, Trevor was sure he’d rip him some sort of new hole in anger. Trevor was barely half of the man he was when Conner was alive. Of course, the Conner that he killed- well that Conner would know he was getting what he deserved. Rotting away like this, getting those judgmental eyes and snark comments from people around him; it was all his payment for what he did. Hell’s cold grip could come up from under the tracks and yank him down into it’s waiting embrace this very moment, and he wouldn’t complain.

A sharp knock at the door brought him out of his state, and he sat up a bit on the chair, narrowing his eyes. Suspicion was always the first thing that ran through him in these situations. It was all in his training, in what he’d grown to know over constant years of living as a spy. Even now, on the run from it all, he was still high strung all the time.

“Yes?” He called, cringing a bit at the stupid word choice. Why not ‘I’m busy’ or ‘go away?’ Why was he acting so formal?

“I brought you food. You haven’t come back to eat, and you didn’t eat any of the breakfast that I made you. You’re not starving on my train, got it? I don’t need to lose my job. Open the door.” Kirk’s voice cut through the room like a knife, and Trevor sat still in his chair for another moment before standing up and sliding the door open, meeting eyes with the slightly shorter man.

In his hand was a dinner plate, stacked with a thick flank of steak, buttery warm mashed potatoes, and three different kinds of vegetables mixed together. It looked significantly better than the breakfast that had been on his table that morning, and he raised his brows at Kirk, expecting an explanation.

“The chef made this, you jag-off.” Kirk huffed, shoving the plate into his hands. He wasn’t in the bartender outfit anymore, instead in more of a casual outfit, basketball shorts that fit his athletic legs and hips just right, and a graphic tee-shirt that displayed some television show he’d never heard of before. He was almost cute like this, if he didn’t wear that sour expression on his face.

“I wasn’t trying to insult you. The breakfast this morning just wasn’t near this level, is all I’m saying.” Trevor tried to smile- he didn’t need to make more enemies, let alone some angry civilian that worked on a train. If his picture ever went up anywhere, and Kirk hated him for being the dick on the train, he’d easily sell away Trevor’s last location.

“Whatever. Eat it. Do I have to stay and make sure you do?” Kirk was clearly trying to eye up whatever Trevor had inside his room, his eyes occasionally drifting to the sides to try and look past Trevor.

“I’m not a child.” Trevor replied to him, but took the fork that rested neatly on the plate and took a large bite of the mashed potatoes, almost melting at the taste. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d tasted something so good. Kirk was taking his moment of bliss to really start inspecting the room behind him, standing up a bit on his tiptoes to see over Trevor’s shoulder.

“Thank you for the food, Kirk.” Trevor noticed him inspecting from the hallway and decided that was more than enough, stepping back into his room and sliding the door closed. He let out a small sigh and stared at the plate that rested in his hands before he dropped it into the garbage and instead laid down on the bed, staring at the wall.

It felt nearly impossible to sleep, even with daylight fading away. He knew that he should be tired at this point, the previous two attempts at sleep being ruined by endless, shrill nightmares, and the days long and mundane. He turned onto his back and instead chose to stare at the ceiling, with it’s ancient, rotting patterns and chipped paint. Conner would probably appreciate an old train like this, he’d find it’s history fascinating, and probably buy books on it the second they got off.

Maybe he’d do that.

Kirk was not in the dinner car the next morning. Trevor almost felt sad, because the other bartender/waiter was nowhere near as fun as Kirk was. She was older, meaner, and quick with everything, practically throwing his coffee and plate of overcooked food at him before waddling back off to the kitchen. Trevor did not want to start any sort of conversation with her.

He focused on his coffee instead, his eyes tired from the pure lack of sleep he’d gotten the night before. Daylight was dancing against the old, white cup, making it look much more appealing than it actually was. He picked at the food on his plate, taking small bites to satisfy the pain in his gut, when someone took the seat across from him. He looked up with a startled noise, only to relax when he realized it was Kirk.

“You’re going to eat that junk, but you didn’t eat my breakfast?” Kirk said, adding mock hurt to his tone. Trevor rolled his eyes and continued to pick apart the sausage, pulling away the burnt skin to get to the meat on the inside.

“I wasn’t hungry when you served me. If it makes you feel better, I can promise you, yours looked and smelled better than whatever poison this is.” Trevor grumbled, bringing a bit of the meat up to his lips and pressing it into his mouth. Kirk watched him the whole time, leaning on his hand and clearly waiting for something.

“So listen. Are we going to fuck, or what?” Kirk finally spoke, and Trevor nearly choked on the small bite he’d taken, his eyes watering as he coughed and looked at the other man. Kirk was still waiting with that ‘well?’ expression on his face, drumming his fingers on the table.

“What do you mean, are we going to fuck?” Trevor hissed, trying to keep his voice low to avoid any unwanted ears from hearing such a conversation. Kirk, on the other hand, spoke with confidence, like he didn’t care who heard.

“You’ve been flirting around with me since you got here. I saw you checking out my legs last night. Are we going to fuck? I’m not going to wait around for you. I’ve got this morning and afternoon off, so we can mess around all-“

“No. I’m not going to ‘mess around’ with you.” Trevor cut him off, slamming his hand down on the table. Kirk jumped a bit, clearly taken aback by the sudden change in Trevor’s demeanor. He raised his hands up slowly.

“Sorry. I just assumed with the way you’re acting-“ he attempted to say, but Trevor was already standing up, throwing cash on the table for the other waitress.

“Don’t assume. I’m taken.” Trevor said quickly, and before he turned to leave, noticed a very odd expression flash across Kirk’s face. He could care less about it at this point, and made his way to the exit of the car, wanting to be as far away from Kirk as possible.

“Hey, Trevor? Can I ask you a question?”

The moonlight was escaping through the blinds, casting a faint light throughout the expensive hotel room. The empty second bed was dusted in it’s light, but the two of them weren’t bothered by it, simply sharing the first bed, cuddled together after a very long night of work.

Conner’s eyes were hazy with sleep, but they were expectant and sweet, waiting for Trevor’s response. Trevor wasn’t exactly tired himself, but he didn’t mind laying in bed all night if it meant he could hold Conner like this.

“Anything in the world, babe.” Trevor responded, threading his fingers through Conner’s hair as he undid some of the knots that were still stuck from the bun.

“If I were to die, do you think you’d get a new partner? I think about it a lot, you know? What I would do if something happened to you, what… how I would handle it all…” Conner said, now unable to maintain eye contact with Trevor.

Trevor himself was a bit taken back by the question, trying to find the best way to answer it. Of course, he knew there was no way in hell he’d be able to continue without Conner in his life, without the partner he’d worked with for years to guide him. He’d just never sat and thought on it like this, never expecting to have to deal with the worst.

“What would you do?” He asked instead, trying to test the water and see what Conner was searching for. Sometimes, he was a box of emotions that was just too hard to crack, and it was easier to get in his head before he got into Trevor’s.

“I… I think I’d try to move on. For the agency, for what we stand for. But I don’t know if I could. I’d never date again, that’s for sure, because… you’re my world. You’re my soulmate. I know that, through and through.” Conner said, his voice very serious. Trevor let a small smile slip through his lips, and leaned down to gently kiss Conner.

“I don’t think I could do either. I don’t know what I would do without you, Conner. We’re two halves of a whole. There would be no point to all of this nonsense without you.” Trevor assured him, keeping their lips just fleetingly pressed together. When he felt Conner smile back, he knew he’d said just the right thing.

“Trevor? I love you.”

“I love you too, Conner.”

Sometimes he wondered how they stayed in such a bliss for so long. Six years together, three of them dating each other, always under constant watch by the agency- but never truly letting it get to them. Their love felt like it was untouchable, for so god damn long. Yet, Trevor had been willing to let it all go. He’d let the stress of everything get to him; the eyes of the agency, the missions they were on, the rest of the world. He let all of it block his vision from what really, truly mattered- Conner.

Now he couldn’t do anything about it. He had to sit, the blood on his hands of the one person he loved more than anything in the world, for the rest of his miserable life. If he was lucky, this train stop would be his last though. A beautiful waterfall sat in the town he was headed to- a popular tourist destination, the world around it beautiful and peaceful. Conner had spoken of it so many times in their years together, always wanting to go and see it. Trevor had never taken him. He was never good to Conner, never in the way he should have been.

Even if Conner wasn’t with him, Trevor believed he was in spirit. He’d go to the falls, and let them both take it in, see everything it had to offer- and then he was going to jump. Join Conner in whatever waited for him on the other side. Screw the agency, screw living, screw the world. He was going to be with Conner like he promised. He was going to make up everything that he did wrong to the person he loved. Nothing was going to stop him.

“Open the door.” Kirk’s voice cut through his thoughts yet again, and he let out a bit of a growl, frustrated at the other man.

“Don’t you have a job to do? Leave me alone. I’ll report you to somebody.” Trevor shot back, not moving an inch from his chair.

“I told you, I had the morning and afternoon off. You’ve only been pouting in here an hour, I still have plenty of time. Let me in.” Kirk replied, knocking hard on the door to annoy Trevor into complying. Trevor let out a bit of a huff, but stood up and cracked the door open just a bit so that he and Kirk could make eye contact.

“What do you want.” Trevor kept his voice low, so Kirk knew he wasn’t into the conversation.

“Listen, I know you’re not taken, so just tell me the truth. Why don’t you want to mess around? We’ve clearly been flirting with each other the past two days. What, is it because I’m black? Or aren’t you gay? No, you’re gay, so don’t even try that one-“

“I am taken. Happily. I don’t need you to go about acting like you know me. I don’t fuck strangers on trains, either.” Trevor cut him off harshly and went to close the door, but he caught Kirk mutter something.

“I beg to differ.”

It was light, and barely audible, but Trevor heard it. He slammed the door shut then and locked it, taking a few quick steps back and away. His hand went straight for his carry on, his eyes never leaving the door as he dug through it, trying to find his gun- but his blood ran cold when he found it was gone. He quickly took the chair and slammed it up against the door so that there was no way to open it beside busting it down, and pressed himself back against the far wall.

There was silence on the other side of the door, but then he heard Kirk’s footsteps retreat down the hallway. Trevor slid down the wall, feeling his body shake just so bad. There was no way in hell anyone else other than an agent of their division would know about the train story. No one else even knew who the hell he was.

When he first met Conner, they had been paired on a mission together. They met on a train, and there was a sort of instant, unquestionable connection between them. They barely waited one evening to throw themselves at each other, christening their new partnership on the rickety bed. Their agency didn’t take this very well, and leaked the sound to everyone else as punishment to Conner and Trevor, and warning to everyone else:

No relationships allowed.

They were lucky they weren’t killed, or worse, when they were put on trial for what they’d done. They were only rookies though, so they were let off with a very stern warning and a slap on the wrist that kept them apart from each other for the next three years of their lives. Fear; their relationship had been built on it. The agency they were a part of didn’t let them forget it, breathing down their necks every day for the next six years.

It got to the point that Trevor started to think that he and Conner would be better apart. He couldn’t live his life with the constant fear that simply being in love could lead to the end of everything he’d ever worked for, or even his life.

Now one of the agents were here. On this train.

Kirk must be an undercover. He’d never met him before, so there was no way he was a normal agent like he or Conner. Kirk was one of the tough ones, that did the hard missions, the ones no one else wanted to do. They were kept under the rug, just in case they ever had to go after another agent- just like now. Trevor never thought that they would catch up to him like this- he had been so careful, he’d covered his tracks in every way possible-

“I think they chipped us.” Conner said. They were sitting naked together in a fancy hotel bed, having just fucked the stress of the day away, and now going over the notes before them for their current mission. Conner was behind him, playing with his hair, when he brushed his finger gently over the back of Trevor’s neck, making him shiver.

“What do you mean, they chipped us?” Trevor asked, trying to turn his head back to look at his own neck.

“You can’t see it, Trev,” Conner laughed a bit, but slid in front of Trevor, pulling his own hair up to show Trevor the back of his neck. If he looked hard enough, squinted his eyes at just the right angle, he could see a scar so small it almost looked like just a mis-colored speck of skin.

“Do you see? You have one too… It’s like were animals.” Conner muttered, staring forward and running his hand down the back of his neck. Trevor frowned, but gently wrapped his arms around Conner, pulling him back into a tight hug.

“Don’t worry about it. We get out of it in the end. They won’t want us when we can’t jump a ledge anymore. You know that. They’ll wipe us like Alec, and we’ll find each other, and grow old, happily.” Trevor whispered, pressing a small kiss into Conner’s temple. Conner relaxed in his arms and nodded his head, pressing his face gently against Trevor’s.

He was a moron. An absolute moron. How could he go about and forget such an important thing? The god damn chip. He brought his hand to the back of his neck and felt along, trying to find any evidence of it, but was left with nothing but smooth skin. The bastards weren’t going to let him go this easily, of course not. Kirk had his gun. Kirk had him right where he wanted him.

He felt the tears start to swell in his eyes as he slid down to the ground. All he wanted was to do one more thing. He just had to see the falls, he had to see them for Conner. Why couldn’t they just let him do this one thing?

There was a faint knocking that woke him up. It was soft, and light, and it reminded him of how Conner knocked on the door. He stayed where he was on the floor and just took it in, reliving every time he heard Conner knock, or call for him. It was relaxing, almost, until the woman on the other end spoke, shattering his pathetic illusion.

“Excuse me, sir? The train has arrived, sir. You have to get off.” The attendant said, her voice tired. Trevor could only imagine what was waiting for him on the other side of that door. He knew he had to face the music though, and slowly pulled himself off the ground. He didn’t know how long he was laying there, nor did he care.

He picked his bags up in one motion, leaving whatever was out of them out. He wasn’t going to need it anyway. It was all over now. He pushed the chair out of the way and yanked the door open, scaring the girl, who took a quick step out of his way. She looked nervous as all hell, blocking the path to the left, only giving him the option of exiting right.

“Thank you for riding with us.” She said quickly, her head down and her hands clutched together. He let out a grunt in reply, dropped his wallet at her feet, and then made his way to the exit.

It was still outside. The platform was empty, and the night sky was dark around him. Crickets were singing in the night, the only noise around. It was colder than Trevor expected it to be, and as he stepped off the steel stairs, he shivered. There was only one lamp on, and it illuminated a single figure.

Kirk was waiting for him, much more finely dressed than Trevor had seen him the last few days. He wore a slim fitting black suit that hugged him in just the right places, making him look as if he was blended perfectly into the night around them. Like death, waiting for his next victim to walk right towards him. The only difference was his blond hair, that stood out so violently Trevor almost laughed.

“What are you smiling for?” Kirk asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving forward to meet Trevor half way.

“It’s almost comedic. Your hair.” Trevor muttered, his eyes stuck on the blond mess. Kirk glanced up himself, but no smile split his face. He was all business now.

“You can’t run forever, Trevor. I’m taking you in now, or never.” Kirk said, pulling his coat up to reveal Trevor’s own gun. Trevor let out a breath of air, almost pitying Kirk. If only he didn’t care about seeing the falls for Conner. He’d fight Kirk right here, if all he cared about was his death. Deep down, he wondered if they knew that.

“What do they even want me for?” Trevor asked, dropping his bags down and holding his wrists out for Kirk, who seemed almost shocked at his compliance to the whole thing. Trevor liked that he was throwing curve balls at Kirk still. It made him feel a little less trapped.

“Conner is your responsibility. They want you to get him back.” Kirk said, and now Trevor was the one who was hit with the curveball. He shook his head in disbelief and took a step back.

“What the hell do you mean? Conner’s dead. He- I saw him fall of the roof, Kirk-“ Trevor stuttered, watching as Kirk pulled out his phone and flashed Trevor a picture- one that made his heart stop. It was a blurry image, taken from a surveillance camera, but who was on it was undeniable. That thick mess of black hair, the rounded face- that was Conner. He was stuck between two taller men, his hands hidden under a jacket, his eyes down- but it was him.

“…when was this taken?” Trevor whispered, his voice wavering with disbelief.

“Two weeks ago. Southern Texas. You’re coming with me, Trevor, and we’re going to go and find him, before whoever has him can get him to talk.” Kirk said, slamming the hand cuffs on Trevor’s still outstretched arms, and yanking him towards the exit. He didn’t get very far though, for Trevor couldn’t hold himself together.

He collapsed onto the ground, his eyes rolling up into his head, the idea of Conner being alive too much for him to handle. Kirk stumbled away from him and let out a huff, placing his hands on his hips and staring at the mess on the ground.

“This is why I don’t do partners.”

#spy au #original #ocs #original character #OC: Conner #OC: Kirk #OC: Trevor #a gift for a friend #My writing #writing #i love my ocs

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vagrantblvrd · 6 years

Text

Problem Solving (1/1)

Summary: When Ryan's boss pulls him aside and tells him to keep an eye on the squirrelly looking guy he hired to handle the tech side of things, it's not a great sign of things to come.

Notes: For @miss-ingno who asked for "On the bright side, uh, your cut just got a hell of a lot bigger." off the Heist Sentence Starter list and read my mind with the scenario for it. :D

AO3

When Ryan's boss pulls him aside and tells him to keep an eye on the squirrelly looking guy he hired to handle the tech side of things, it's not a great sign of things to come.

“Mind if I ask why?” Ryan asks, because his boss – current boss – isn't usually the kind of guy to play games for the sake of it.

Ryan's boss snorts, waves a hand down to the floor of the warehouse down below them where they can see the hired muscle lounging around like overfed lions. The tech guy's hunched over one of his computers in a corner across from them engrossed in something and apparently unaware of the perfect target he makes.

“Kid's got a reputation,” he says, vague enough that it's clear he wants Ryan to figure it out for himself. “And while those idiots aren't worth what I'm paying them, they're the best of the lot I could get onboard for this. I need them for the job. Keep everyone in line and you get a bonus at the end of this.”

Ryan glances at his boss, not really a bad sort for this city, bu nowhere near ambitious enough to make a grab for anything bigger than what he already has. Content to let the others in Los Santos tear each other apart while he carries on in his little section of the city.

“You say that like it's going to be a challenge.”

Ryan's boss grins like he knows something Ryan doesn't as he goes back to the plans laid out on his desk, clear dismissal if Ryan's ever seen one.

========

Turns out, the little shit his boss hired is all but asking to be shoved into a locker somewhere. Fucking high school shenanigans with the jocks against this weedy little nerd who needs help hauling his gear around.

Ryan watches the whole thing, notices the way one asshole in particular is eyeing the tech guy up like he'd like nothing better than to introduce his fists to the little shit's face, and sighs.

“Remember that bonus,” Ryan's boss says, something like a smirk on his face as he heads out to get everyone's attention for the for a quick briefing.

========

And, see. The thing is, the guy Ryan's boss hired for the tech end of things is fucking odd.

Twig of a human being all the way from England with that accent of his and no goddamned common sense to him at all.

Just waltzes up to Ryan who's minding his own damn business and plonks down what looks like a smashed surveillance camera and a mess of wires in front of him.

“Can I help you?” Ryan asks, fighting against a smile when he sees the tech guy waver, the slight hesitation at the sound of the Vagabond's voice.

But this guy (kid, really), narrows his eyes and leans in. Says, like he has no idea who he's talking to -

“One of your idiots broke this! It's needed for the job, unless you plan to go in blind.” He pauses, eyes darting away for a moment before he looks back at Ryan, head cocked. “You don't, do you? Because that would be a bit suicidal, and I've been told you're not that stupid.”

There's more too, slight flinch when a group of the hired muscle walks past, laughing to themselves like a pack of mean-girls. One of them, ugly bastard, looks right at the tech guy before being dragged away by his buddies.

If anyone had told Ryan Los Santos' criminal world would be a more advanced version of high school when he was younger, he never would have believed it.

“First of all,” Ryan says, realizing that whoever broke the damn camera really went to town on it, “they're not my idiots. Second of all - “

Ryan scoops the broken bits of camera and trailing wires into a pile and pushes it over to the idiot tech guy.

“Try being a little smarter and don't actively antagonize them. They've got guns, you've got your little toys. Do the math.”

The tech guy gapes at Ryan, indignation and annoyance clear on his face, and Ryan -

“I'll talk to them,” he says, keeping his voice low because he doesn't want this dumb kid getting into trouble he shouldn't because he doesn't think he should have to play the shitty game of high school politics anymore, and really, he's got a point. “Just. Try to stay out of their way before then.”

The kid's mouth snaps shut, and he pulls back. Cocks his head the other way and honest to God hmmms like he's reassessing his opinion of Ryan.

And that -

“I've got a bonus riding on all of you assholes making it through this damn job without killing each other,” Ryan says as he gets up to leave, no need to let the idiot think Ryan gives a damn about anyone here but himself, after all.

========

Ryan has his talk with the hired muscle, tells them to lay off the tech guy because he's an integral part of the job being a success and all of them getting paid at the end of it.

It goes about as well as he expected. Some of them listen better than others, of course, because there are always the ones who don't give a damn.

And Ryan.

He watches, sees there's really only one guy who makes a point of harassing the tech guy. Shoving hi around when he thinks no one else is looking, looming over him and in general throwing his weight around because he thinks he's better than the kid.

There's not much Ryan can do about it because they need everyone for this job, but he does what he can. Makes sure the idiot tech guy and his bully aren't left alone together at any time because there's no saying how that one would go.

The hired good has size and strength on his side, sure, the tech guy? Smart little bastard. Clever, annoying as hell, really, because he talks.

Ryan's not looking to make friends here, just get through the damn job and get paid.

Apparently the tech guy never got that memo because he starts hanging out around Ryan more and more as time passes. At first it's fairly subtle, the idiot working on his laptop in the area of the warehouse set up with tables and chairs and a microwave on a shaky table the same time Ryan is.

Ryan ignores him, and it's a mutual sort of thing until it isn't.

“Is it true,” the tech guy asks one day, sitting across from Ryan and staring at him intently. “That you - “

“Yes,” Ryan says, because there are a ridiculous amount of rumors out there about him, and at this point they can only help his reputation.

“What?”

Ryan sets down the knife he's sharpening and looks the idiot in the eye. Says, low and menacing as the Vagabond ever is, “Whatever you heard about me? True. All of it.”

The idiot frowns, says, as he picks up one of Ryan's knives and examines it, “So - “

Ryan doesn't sigh, no, because that's not something the Vagabond does. Get exasperated by some idiot who can't seem to stop talking if his life depended on it.

========

The thing Ryan's learned about tech guys – about anyone good with computers or electronic equipment - is that you really don't want to get on their bad side.

Don't want to piss them off, because all too often they're the ones smart enough to get away with murder.

Literally.

Sure, the hired muscle have their guns and their knives and their explosives, but the tech guy?

He's the one with all the shiny little toys.

The guy tapped into cameras all around the city, who hacks computers systems for them and cracks security systems. Gets them into places it would be suicide to go into alone, and is by far more dangerous than all of them combined.

He's the one they're counting on to get them in and out with as few complications as possible, so you'd think they'd everyone else would realize it'd be a smart move on their part not to fuck with him, but no.

You get assholes who zero in on who they think the weak link is, who doesn't understand this isn't high school anymore. Doesn't get that just because the tech guy is smaller, physically weaker, that doesn't mean they're defenseless. Doesn't mean they don't have it in them to fight back if you push them too far, especially in this line of work.

So when something goes wrong and the main asshole harassing the tech guy somehow gets killed?

Well.

Shit goes wrong here in Los Santos all the damn time, doesn't it.

Little bit of hesitation, mix up a direction or two and bam, some poor bastard ends up in a shootout with the cops in some dead-end alley and no backup to be found for miles.

Ryan's boss rubs his temples like he has a headache, and tells Ryan to deal with it as he calls in the others to let them know what happened.

Ryan heads over to the corner of the warehouse the tech guy's claimed for himself. Passes curious and confused hired muscle as he goes, people who haven't heard the news, don't know one of there is dead.

Makes his way past empty cargo containers to that little nook and sees the tech guy staring at his monitors. All of them displaying surveillance and security area footage.

“Um, so no bonus for you this time, it looks like,” the tech guy says, looking like he couldn't decide whether or not to run and ended up having the decision taken out of his hands with Ryan's arrival. “On the bright side, uh, your cut just got a hell of a lot bigger."

Ryan stares at the tech guy. The feigned calmness to him as he plucks out his earpiece and sets it down on his desk, dead silence over the comms.

Ryan glances at the camera focused on a ring of police cars, shot out windows and blood spattered down the side of one, cops leaning against another as EMTs see to their wounds. Other cops clustered over a too-still form on the ground just out of frame.

There are questions he could ask, things he could do, because this -

“I did the math,” the tech guy says, like he knows what Ryan's thinking. What Ryan's considering doing because he's proven himself to be one hell of a liability here with this little act of his.

Ryan cocks his head. “And?”

“I solved the problem.”

The the guy goes for a smile, but it's kind of twitchy like he can't believe he just said that, dear God, why.

Ryan takes a few steps closer, watches the way the tech guy flinches, just the tiniest bit, before he steadies himself. Eyes on Ryan, hands hidden in the pockets of his hoodie, and if he doesn't have some kind of weapon on him – gun, knife – Ryan would be surprised at this point. (Disappointed, actually.)

“You have any more problems that need solving,” Ryan says, leans in closer just to see what the tech guy's going to do. “Come to me first. We can't afford to go into this short-handed, and the last thing we need is infighting when we're so close to the end.”

Don't need the others figuring out what happened, that the squirrelly tech guy just offed one of theirs from the comfort and safety of his little troll lair and decide that requires payback.

Ryan watches the tech guy, sees the gears in his head turning. Slow and painful sure, like this moron doesn't get that he's not on his own here, outnumbered and literally outgunned.

Surrounded by people who wouldn't bat an eye at killing him if he wasn't useful, necessary. That Ryan's being paid to look out for him as much as he is for anything else on this job. That their boss wanted Ryan specifically for this, knew the meatheads out there would have far more respect for the Vagabond than himself.

“Wait, what?”

The idiot's looking at Ryan like he honestly hadn't realized how much worse things could have gotten if Ryan wasn't there. Didn't let the little idiot keep moving closer and closer while his bullie and his buddies hung around the edges like vultures.

“Pull this kind of shit again,” Ryan says, “You're going to have a problem with me.”

It's on the tip of his tongue, some stupid joke or un about higher math, but no, no.THe Vagabond doesn't do that. Doesn't play with people like this tech guy, doesn't make nerdy jokes, now does he.

Just waits and watches, sees the little idiot nod like because he understands exactly what Ryan means here, what's at stake if he doesn't listen.

========

“Kid's a troublemaker,” Ryan's boss tells him when the job's over, everyone a fair bit richer than when they started out. “But he's headed somewhere, mark my words. It might be a good idea to stay on his good side.”

Ryan snorts, watching the idiot struggling to carry his gear out to the battered little car he's using. The hired muscle are long gone, and it's just the three of them for the moment.

“You think?”

And Ryan's boss – former boss – gives him a look, like he's not the one who helped Ryan get his feet under him in this pit of a town. Like he doesn't recognize potential when he sees it.

Says, “Haven't you heard? Anything's possible in this town.”

#miss-ingno #prompt fills #fahc #pre-fahc #fahc ryan #fahc gavin #vagrant fic #kings of nowhere #fake ah heist prompts

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