#every time the parent lies down outside the den

[lamby-grahamy]

The family of foxes that has their kits under our shed yearly is here!! Spring has officially begun!! The kits have opened their eyes and yesterday was their first outing as far as I can tell. They are so WIGGLY. They’re climbing (and falling) all over each other and all over the place. If I could get good photos for you guys, I would. Unfortunately, my phone can only take pics of them that are the same quality as sightings of Bigfoot.

#every time the parent lies down outside the den #the babies start climbing all over them #it’s great #also the chipmunk population is gonna take a hit #which is good bc they are messing with the foundation of the house by chewing little nests into it #AND there will be fewer squirrels eating at our bird feeder #mmm free pest control + nature’s cutest babies?? hell yeah #1st and 3rd pics are my dad’s

[t00turnttrauma]

money, money, money

part two: in an act of desperation

I saw Greta last night in Peoria and I will never be the same. I did not say a single coherent word the entire time. Part One

tags: @jackiidk @groggyvanfleet @doodle417 @gretavanflowerpower @callmebymym @seventieswhore @kerryxgvf @gretavanfleas @gretnabancheese @TheFleetofDreams

“And then James, he-” Nicole cut herself off with a chortle. “He decided that, yes, he did want sprinkles!” 

You took a deep breath, patience wearing thinner with every passing moment. You sat through cocktail hour, appetizers, and dinner. Now it was the odd digestion period between dinner and dessert. Clenching your teeth, you waited for the chocolate soufflé. Your father had taken his new potential business partner to the den. Mr. Y/L/N had been trying to woo Mr. Vorke all afternoon and join the two bank chains. The shiny butter knife on the table looked tantalizing, but it would look better in your-

“Y/N,” Mrs. Vorke said after clearing her throat. 

Your mother tapped your ankle beneath the table. “Mrs. Vorke would like to know what your plans are for this year.” 

You looked at the awaiting guest. “I’m planning on slaving away the rest of my life at some mid-sized bank and trust, marry some blue collar man with questionable beliefs and have a bunch of snot-nosed rugrats clogging up the shitty public school system.” 

Your mother cleared her throat, chuckling nervously. “She’s a little shy,” she lied. 

Realizing you hadn’t said what was on the tip of your tongue, you smiled and apologized. “I am so sorry, I was still thinking. Such a scatterbrain sometimes,” you chuckled, playing the bimbo role better than Nicole ever could, even as a real bimbo. “I am planning on going to college in the fall. I’m still… waiting on a few funds to come through.” 

Mrs. Vorke set her glass down gingerly, as if the table was a house of cards about to cave in on itself. “Are you doing this without your parent’s help?” She asked, eyeing your mother. 

Your mother’s signature soft smile was on her lips. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. Well, your mother’s soul was aflame with anger. Appearances mean everything and more in this social circle of the world. The appearance of a perfect family with supportive parents and high-achieving daughters was beginning to crack to the outside world. 

You giggled. “Yes.” The doorbell chimed, echoing through the distributor in the foyer and the one in the back room that was just off the kitchen. “That’s for me!” You said, quickly rising from the table. 

Josh stood on the doorstep, holding a box of pizza and breadsticks. “Party time?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you at home.” 

“You’re moving in?” He asked, his eyes lighting up as you took the boxes from his hands. 

“So who did what to make you ruin your perfect delivery record?” 

“Mr. Allen from West Turtle Avenue. Fucker yelled at Monique and made her cry. She was still in the back office sobbing when I left so I called Danny to ask him for help with the backdoor.” Josh laughed. “Oh man, I knocked the moment he left and considered it a no-show.” 

You shook your head, stroking his chin softly. “You are so sneaky, Josh.” 

He looked past you. “I think they’re waiting for you.” 

You glanced back to see your mother standing at the door, her sweater pulled tightly around her. “Joshua. Lovely to see you.” 

“You too, ma’am. Have a nice night, ladies.” 

You shut the door, turning around with the pizza boxes. Your mother’s eyes were still full of rage but her hands were calm, delicately weaved together and cupped over her abdomen. “The dessert is being served. I would have offered Josh some-” 

“It’s fine,” you smiled and shook the boxes. “I have lunch for tomorrow and dessert for tonight.” 

“What about the chocolate souffle that Nicole spent ages on?” 

You peered around the door to see her happily serving the dessert to Mr. Vorke. He looked far too excited to eat the chocolate souffle that lacked any real chocolate flavor ever since Nicole started this year’s newest fad diet. You looked back at your mother. “It’s getting late, and I have to work in the morning. Can’t afford to be late.” You started grabbing your coat, stopping to look at her one last time. “Well, I can’t really afford much of anything anymore, mom.” 

“Y/N-” 

You held the boxes on one hip, awkwardly sliding the coat on with one hand. “Mrs. and Mr. Vorke, it was a true honor to meet you. I will be seeing you around town.” 

“Are you leaving?” Your father asked, his eyes wide. 

You’d always been the entertainer of the dinner parties. You’d been able to keep stories and the conversation going ever since you were little. Playing that role just no longer seemed appetizing. You nodded. “I’m out of here, dad. I’m sleeping with Sam tonight.” 

“Don’t you mean at Sam’s?” Nicole asked, offering you a wrapped souffle. 

You shook your head. “No.” 

*

“Where would you go… if you had the money? Anywhere in the world.” You rolled over, tucking the corner of the duvet beneath your head. 

Sam pondered it for a moment. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled a cigarette from the carton on the nightstand. He lit it, taking a long dramatic drag before nodding as he exhaled. “Las Vegas.” 

“Vegas?” You giggled, pulling the sheet tighter around yourself. “Why?” 

He shrugged. “I’ve never gone. Plus, I’m rich so what does it matter?” He grabbed a pair of jeans and stuffed his legs through them. He adjusted his briefs and tugged your ankle as he crossed the room to the closet for a shirt. “What about you?” 

You shrugged. “Probably Monaco. I would settle after taking a trip through Europe, though.” 

“Why Monaco?” Sam teased as he buttoned his shirt. 

You sat up, scooting to sit against the headboard. “I don’t know. It just seems cool. Gamble away my money while waking up on the coast. Cute little pastries in the late morning. Going straight to the casino every afternoon.” 

Sam pulled his shoes on. “Will you be here when I come back later?” 

You shrugged. “Maybe.” 

Sam pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I will see you then, I assume.” 

He grabbed his backpack from where it was slouched against the wall. You lied there for a few beats, wondering how you made it to where you were now. Lying in Sam’s pullout couch felt weird. Just a week ago, you were brunching alone in the city and had all the money you could think of and now you were sleeping with your best friend. The shame and embarrassment settled in as you redressed yourself. Once your clothes were as smoothed out as they could be, the door opened. 

“Y/N, what time did you come in last night?” Jake asked, pulling the beanie off his head and tossing it into the umbrella bin by the door. “Kind of missed you in my bed.” 

“I just came to pick up some wrapping paper,” you lied. “It’s in the attic, right?” 

Jake nodded. “Help yourself. I’m going to shower and you are more than welcome to join me.” 

You pinched his cheek. “As tantalizing as that offer is, I have to go to work and pray my dad doesn’t drop in.” 

Jake nodded. “Good luck. I’ll be here when you get back, so don’t worry about it, darling.” 

Your prayers were left unanswered. Before lunchtime, your father walked into the bank. You were on the phone with a supplier, listening to the countless options of paperclips when he threw the door to your office open. He grabbed the handset from your hand. “Hi, can Y/N give you a call back in a moment? Something has come up.”

You furrowed your brows. “What was that?” 

“What the hell was that last night?” He demanded. “All you had to do was play house for three hours. Three goddamn hours and you made a fool of me- our last name!”

You blinked sarcastically, smiling at his outburst. “Mom told me it was going to be a dinner between us, as a family, to talk about my dream-” 

“Dreams?” He scoffed, tossing his suit jacket back to put his hands on his hips. “You were brought into this world to run this bank when I’m gone and I’ll be damned if you refuse to do it.” 

“So that’s all I am, dad?” You snapped. “I’m just here to inherit a drowning business for when you kick the bucket.” 

“Yes! Do you think that Nicole can run this on her own? James doesn’t even let her have her own debit card.” He took a deep breath. “I had huge dreams for you Y/N, darling.” 

You shook your head, looking for the words. “I have my own plan. Respectfully, father, I can do this with or without you.” 

He scoffed. “I’m not paying for it.” 

“And I understand.” You pulled loan pamphlets. “I think you forget where I’m working.” 

Your father nodded, slightly proud of the determination you inherited from him. “No illegal loopholes. Everything on the table and perfectly squeaky clean. I can get behind college on your dime but good luck trying to bail yourself out of jail with six hundred dollars and an expired Sam’s Club membership.” 

For the rest of the day, you felt sick. There were so many variables. Your father would kill you if you went through with it. The plan was forming in your mind, potential threats to it. You spent the entire afternoon running through the plan, calculating for every potential tripped alarm and tripped boy. By the time the work whistle rang at the end of the day, you were confident, quite literally rushing out of the bank. You made a beeline for the house. Even from the sidewalk, you could hear the rowdiness of the Kiszkas inside. 

“What are you guys arguing about this time?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you. 

Josh slumped in his seat. “We weren’t arguing. We were discussing who ran away from home and for what.” 

You furrowed your brows. “I still need more context.” 

You knew the full story behind it, you were there that day. It was the first summer the Kiszka siblings were allowed to be home alone without a babysitter. You lived nearby and decided to hang out for the day. The kitchen was already a mess from where Jake had tried to make pancakes. He had used almost the entire box trying to reach the perfect consistency. A large stack sat in the middle of the counter, Sam and Ronnie lying on the floor, each with half of an eaten pancake in hand and their faces sticky with syrup. 

“Nice haircut, dweeb,” you snickered, rubbing his new buzzcut. 

He shrugged you off, pouting as he poured more chocolate chips into the batter on the griddle. “Leave me alone,” he snapped. 

Josh dragged you to the backyard, pointing at the hair clippers and pile of hair on the floor. “That’s what happens when you talk back around here,” he warned before motioning for you to follow. 

They had two sheds in their backyard, one with the mower and various tools. The other was full of toys and other children’s items. After stepping over the rolled up pool that had yet to be set up and the sand table that hadn’t seen the sun since the first grade, Josh handed you Jake’s BB gun. They had gotten matching guns for Christmas but the cold weather left them in storage. There were strict rules for the toys. One being to never aim them at another person. The second was to not shoot towards the house. Josh had disregarded both rules. You tried to tell him it was a bad idea, but he wanted to hit the trim around the window to scare Jake. Instead, he aimed a little higher, shattering the glass. You gasped, dropping the toy and running around to the door. Inside, Sam had pulled Ronnie to the ground from the couch, accidentally kneeing her in the stomach and spilling her half digested pancakes on the fancy rug they weren’t even allowed to walk on with shoes and on Sam. He shrieked, stumbling to his feet. He began to sob, jumping in place and shaking his hands. 

“Mom!” He sobbed, running down the hall and slamming a door. 

After regrouping and teasing Josh for what he did, he decided to finally become a man. He picked up the house phone and dialed the number to his mother’s workplace. “Mom?” 

“Joshua,” she sighed. “What happened?” 

He held out the handheld phone for you to take. You shook your head, reminding him that you weren’t allowed to be over without supervision, even though you had nothing to do with this situation. 

“I shot the BB gun at the house by accident and it accidentally broke the window.” Josh waited a moment before he pressed the red button. 

“Did you just hang up on mom?” Ronnie asked, nothing but fear on her pale face. “Now she’s going to shave your head.” 

Josh’s face paled. “She hung up on me.” 

He paced around for a moment, ignoring the taunts from his siblings. He quickly grabbed your wrist, dragging you to his room. Josh dragged a chair to the closet, pulling duffel bags from the top shelf. He stuffed clothes, most of it Jake’s, into the bag.

“What are you doing?” You asked, jumping on Jake’s no-longer-neatly-made bed. 

“I’m packing my bags,” he said. 

“Why?” 

He zipped up the suitcase. “I can’t take it. It’s too much.”

You stood by helplessly. Jake scrubbed the counters, spreading the not watery batter everywhere. He had slipped on the puddles a few times, crusting up his pajama pants in the process. Ronnie was in the living room, pouring chemical after chemical on the carpet, trying to get rid of the stench lingering in the room. Sam was still pale in the face, his skin red from scrubbing himself. He sat on the couch in just his two towels, one wrapped around his head and the other tucked beneath his armpits. He argued with Ronnie, berating her for throwing up on him. She was quiet for a moment before gagging again. Sam screeched, running back towards the bedrooms. 

You stuck around for most of the afternoon, watching as the Kiszka house fell apart. Karen was livid when she came home to a ruined carpet, destroyed kitchen, and shattered window. She had dragged in Josh’s suitcase, pulling with one hand and the other pinching his ear. Kelly had finished sweeping the glass, already having punished their other three kids. 

“I found the fucker on the side of the street, a suitcase and all.” Kelly snickered as Karen swatted at him, tutting that it wasn’t funny. She turned to you where you had been stationed on the couch. “What are you doing here, sweetie?” She asked. 

“Waiting for my mom to pick me up,” you said, peeking out the window. “And she’s here. Thanks for the fun day, Josh!” He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that he was in for it now. 

It would take another three summers for the Kiszkas to be trusted enough to be home alone. 

Sam scoffed. “I still think that I was the one who ran away the best.” 

“The time you ran away and ended up at Ms. Gretna’s house?” Josh accused. “We spent hours looking for you and you were stuffing yourself with snacks!” 

Sam shrugged and pouted, crossing his arms. “She actually cared about me.” 

“She almost called the cops on mom and dad for neglect!” Jake laughed, pulling another cigarette from the carton before tossing it to Sam. “I think you need to get your head checked.”

“Says the guy who only made it to the end of the block before turning around because you remembered you weren’t allowed to cross the street without holding someone’s hand.” 

“I was six!” 

You listened to them bicker, Danny coming in soon after. The four of them chittered back and forth, sharing stories from their childhood and arguing over the details. You waited until the conversation lulled to make your verbal entrance. 

“Do you guys remember our plan? The get-rich-quick scheme?” You asked. “Well, I think we could work it out.” 

Jake set his cigarette butt into the ashtray. “What are you thinking?” 

“I was thinking about a little reverse psychology.” Danny and Sam both cocked their heads, trying to jump onto your train of thought. “Obviously the stupid decision would be to go after… my bank.” 

Danny was the first to laugh. “No fucking way!” 

You nodded. “Hear me out before you shut me down! No one would expect me to be in on it. Sam- you’re doing the thing with the armed trucks. Alibis are no problem.” 

Jake sat up. “We can say we were camping and take a week off!” 

Sam elbowed his older brother. “Only idiots say they go camping and you know where they end up? Prison.” He stood up to rifle through the fridge. “I know a guy who can get us receipts and a solid alibi.”

The silence felt heavy. You picked at the strings of your shirt, nervous. Jake nodded. “I think I could get us cars if we need them.” 

“We will,” you nodded. 

Sam finished his glass of orange juice. “I was expecting you guys to make fun of me for knowing a guy, but we all know how tough I am.” 

Josh turned around in his seat, giggling as he spoke. “What about the time I had to drive you to the ER at 2 in the morning because-“ 

“Do not!” Sam shouted, warning his older brother. 

“- you had an infected nipple!” 

Sam slammed his hands on the table. He rose from the chair, knocking his seat back with a thud. The glasses rattled as he pointed a finger. “I asked you that in confidence, Joshua!” 

Josh immediately jammed a finger back. “It’s been two years, get over it!” 

Danny shushed the two of them. “When did you get a nipple piercing?” 

Sam raised his shirt, flicking his left nipple that was now fully healed. Two silver balls sat on either side of his pink bud. He feared that it would fall off during the healing process. “Got this baby done when I was in the clink.” 

Jake snorted. “‘In the clink’? You were there for six hours while mom and dad came back from the city.” 

“I’m sorry, you-“ Danny shook his head. “You let someone you met in the county jail in the middle of the night pierce through one of the most sensitive parts of your body? What did he do to you?” 

“Nothing. I just took him up on his offer. He said he got a lot of MILFs that way.” Sam pointed a finger at you. “And we can’t talk about bad influences, we quite literally have a rooster in the henhouse.” 

Josh stood up abruptly. “I have to go to class!” He blurted before rushing to his room. 

You followed him down the hall, closing the door to his room quietly. “What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting on his bed. 

“I live in a closet, Y/N. There’s wallpaper from the 50’s on the wall.” 

“I know-” 

Josh pulled you into a hug. “Just take your chance. Whatever you need, I’ll go along with it, but robbing your own family? That’s where I draw the line.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at his refusal to participate in the crime of the century, but it was understandable. Josh had too much to lose. He has to be the one to put a brave face on things. As the oldest sibling, he was always the one to set the example. You nodded. After a brief appreciative hug, the two of you returned to the living room. Josh broke his news to the rest of the group, leaving before anyone could try and convince him. You turned to the remaining soon-to-be criminals and Sam. “Okay guys, are you ready to hear my plan?” 

Josh took his usual seat in the back. Professor Martinez stood at the front, calling attendance. Josh raised his hand during his turn, barely whispering out a ‘presente.’ While sitting in a remedial Spanish class wasn’t the way he wanted to spend his Monday night, he had no choice if he wanted his degree. 

“Okay, clase,” Señor Martinez said as he clapped his hands. “I hope we all did our assignments and brought something to share. La mitad de la clase presenta hoy y la otra mitad mañana. Alicia, por favor, presenta.” 

Alicia rose from her desk and went to the computer. She logged into her account and pulled up her presentation. The assignment was to pick a song in Spanish and translate it for the class. Alicia did a love song, nervously translating for everyone and telling the story. Carmen went next, reciting another song about a broken heart. The third presenter was Noah, a student who was about Josh’s age and had a chronic condition called tardiness. He pulled up the music video and stood by the side as the song played.

Soy un perdedor/ I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me? 

Josh perked up, watching the people on the screen doing jumping jacks. Noah paused the music. “As you can see,” he corrected himself and began speaking broken Spanish, “la música… uh, says… que… es a loser.” 

Señor Martínez nodded. “Buen trabajo, Noah. Next?” 

Josh could no longer focus on the other songs. His self esteem plummeted. Eight years ago, if you would have asked him where he’d be today, he would answer honestly. He would be in Los Angeles, filming his second movie and rise in the Hollywood world. Instead, he was in a community college and broke, living from paycheck to paycheck. The moment the class let out, he made a beeline for his car. Grabbing his phone, he dialed the contact he needed. 

“Y/N. I’m in.” 

*

Planning a heist is usual dinner talk. It’s often light hearted and almost whimsical. There’s a lot of talk about pulling out firearms and taking off with a duffel full of cash on a jet black motorcycle, darting off into the sunset as some strong, life changing song blares in the background. What was once fun, was now a matter of life, death, and a lifetime spent in prison. 

You started first, unrolling a detailed map of the bank. They’d been in storage, collecting dust your entire life. The newest branches were built to be more modern, sleeker, safer. “First order of business is choosing a method.” 

“When did you get all Bonnie and Clyde?” Sam joked. His laughter was cut off by the plastic pointer finger you had in your hand slamming against the table. “Okay, calm down, Y/N.”

“This is not a laughing matter,” you tutted. “We could risk prison time. We could become someone’s bitch. We could die-“ 

“Let’s not go that far,” Danny said as he shook his head. 

Jake interjected. “I already got the explosives. He gave me a monster discount so I bought more than we planned,” he lied. He didn’t have a discount, he just wanted to be extra sure. “I also have Robbie and Kurt working on the cars. They’ll park them around the corners and leave the keys in the console.” 

“Good!” You crossed to the other side of the table. Josh sat with his arms crossed, still on edge. “Okay, so Sam’s is going to come in here. Danny, you’ll stay outside and help him. The vault will be open. I’ll be in my office.” 

Jake pointed to the front doors. “Josh, you and I come through here and clean out the tellers.” 

Josh furrowed his brows. “What if there’s people in the bank? It’s a pretty tight timeframe, isn’t it?” 

That was already discussed when Josh was absent. Nine times out of ten, no one wanted to fuck with a guy with a gun, much less two. Most customers were not the kind to carry a gun and the ones who did, were the ones who used the drive up windows anyway. You explained it all before ending your small rant. “No harm to anyone,” you said. “I’ll take a slap or something but nothing major.” 

Danny agreed. “I can’t do blood or anything like that.” 

Sam nudged Danny with his elbow. “Remember the drunk driver video from driver’s ed?” He shuddered at the memory. He made it to the main point of the film, and then ran from the room when the images of fatal car accidents appeared on the screen. 

Josh snickered. “Remember when you threw up during the Miracle of Birth video?” 

Jake’s face went red. “It’s not funny. I was traumatized.” 

“And to think Mom had to go through that four times-“ 

Jake placed his hands over his ears. “Shut up!” 

“Okay, guys, let’s focus.” You ran through the plan. It had to be an inside job, there was no way it couldn't. There were too many variables going into an unknown bank. That meant that you'd be the first suspect. The police would immediately question the person in charge to figure out how they could let it happen. 

“We could do better,” Sam said when you finished your speech/pep talk. 

“What does that mean?” You asked. 

Sam shrugged. “I just think that we’re aiming too low. Our goal is to have just enough to dig us out of our hole, and then what? I think we need a little insurance.” 

“Are you suggesting taking a hostage?” Josh questioned, looking at you. 

You let out an airy chuckle. “I’m all for being tied up, but I think it’s a bit excessive.” Danny and Jake both giggled at your joke, knowing how true it was. “Just tell us what you’re saying.” 

“What days do you get your usual money delivery?” Josh asked. 

You thought about it. “Every other Wednesday.” 

“That means two days from now,” Danny said, his eyes wide. 

The Kiszkas laughed as if they were unsure, suddenly getting cold feet. Sam grabbed their coats. “We promised to meet our parents for dinner.” 

You and Danny sat in silence for a moment. He stood up, his hands kneading your shoulders. “You’re very tense.” 

You tilted your head back, looking up at him. “What do you plan to do about it?” 

Danny only smirked, taking your hand. He stopped at the front door, flipping the lock before meeting you in the doorway of his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, his hands finding their way to your hips. “Still feeling tense?” 

You nodded. “I think if you were to keep going,” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck.” 

“Tell me what you want.” 

You pulled him down lightly, bringing your lips to his ears. “Help me relieve some tension.”  

*

The morning of the robbery, you felt sick. No matter how much water you sipped, your mouth was still dry. You piled into the same car, one last meeting before separating for the day. Sitting beside Josh in the backseat, you leaned against the window as Danny drove to the coffee shop at the edge of town. You were in the front seat, the three brothers smushed together in the back. Your head thumped against the glass with each pothole and every other imperfection in the road. 

“Goddammit, Josh,” Jake grumbled, covering his nose with the collar of his shirt. “Why?” 

Josh shifted uncomfortably. “I’m nervous! We’re about to rob a fucking bank, if you haven’t noticed.” 

Sam suppressed a gag. “Man, you have to check your drawers. I think you shit yourself.” 

“How did I end up next to you? Sammy, switch me spots.” 

Danny turned around in his seat. “Shut up! All of you. It’s two minutes to the bank. Just-“ he huffed and turned back around.

The car lurched forward as the driver slammed on the brakes. You braced yourself with two hands on the dash, squealing just like the tires did. Danny sighed. “Everyone okay?” 

A chorus of affirmations came through as Danny started moving the car again. You felt your heart pick up as the bank came into view. “Are we really doing this?” Throat dry and hands sweaty, you were beginning to second guess the plan. Anyone could see you getting out of the car with the four men who were supposed to be in Ohio right now at a self help seminar. 

Josh patted your shoulder as Sam pushed his door open. Sam took your seat, his eyes boring into yours for a second too long. Closing the door, it was now or never.  “You’ll do fine. Keep an eye on the clock.” 

You walked into the bank, reminding yourself that it is business as usual. No one cared about how your hands were shaking or how hoarse your voice was for the first hour of your shift. You stayed in your office until Tina knocked on the door. 

“There’s a guy at Sasha’s window and he does not look good,” she said, opening your blinds a little bit. 

The bank had two people in it plus three tellers, the perfect time. You nodded, going to follow her. The customer she was talking about was leaning on the counter. He looked like he’d just run a marathon. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” You asked softly. 

The man swallowed thickly. You looked up, glancing at the clock. He clicked his tongue. "I've had this chest pain all morning," he chuckled. "Must be getting old." 

The color drained from his face. A tingle ran up your arms. "Sir, why don't we go sit down for a moment." You glanced at the clock. 

He nodded. "Is there any way I could get some water?" 

"Of course," you nodded, scurrying to the water cooler by the entrance. 

You had barely made it back when the man took a deep breath. His eyes widened as he gasped for air. Clamping his eyes shut, you watched in horror as the bank silenced and he rolled to the ground. A panicked yelp left your lips. Dropping the water, you kneeled beside him. With the fire department around the corner, no one bothered to call 911, rather running to the station. The first on the scene lightly pushed you away, asking you to call your parents. Instead, you frantically texted the group. Does anyone know how to make banana bread?

Their texts came through one by one, acknowledging that the plan was off. 

An address came through a few minutes later along with a meeting time. You filed the incident report, calling the insurance company. You refused to call your father, already having a hold of the situation. While everyone thought you were shaking from the man’s emergency, part of you expected the twins to walk in. 

*

“What went wrong?” Jake snapped before you could even register where you were.  

You set your purse on the nearest surface. “The police were already on their way for the medical emergency! Don’t blame it on me!” 

“You just had to call 911 didn’t you?” He snapped. 

“Or let the man die? Jake, I still have a job to do and we would all get the chair if I didn’t call the paramedics.” 

“Let’s all just calm down and take a minute to think before we speak,” Sam said as he leaned against the wall. “Who even decided we meet here? I feel like I need a tetanus shot just breathing in here.” 

The abandoned warehouse was full of dusty and rusted objects. The smell of saltwater permeated the air. Everyone turned to look at Josh. “What?” He shrugged. “It’s secluded and easy to hide in if-“ 

Red and blue light flashed across the walls. 

“Regroup at the house in the morning,” Josh said quickly, taking off with Jake. You ran in the opposite direction, cursing your decision to wear heels today. The leather pants chafed as you moved. Your eyes struggled to find an exit. The area where the building was settled was essentially a man made island. No longer used by the large freight ships, it sat unused and forgotten. Finding no dry way to get away from the police, you grimaced. Kicking off your shoes, you gripped the handles to the ladder. The water moved roughly with the wind. You took a few steps back, running and swan diving into the chilly river. You powered through the waves, trying to keep as low as possible. Spotlights shone over the water, refracting into rays and showing the bottom. The lights made it easier to grip onto the rungs. 

Your hand landed on the slick, algae covered rungs. Tightening your grip, you pulled yourself up. Each step was harder than the last as your clothes were heavy from the water. A nearby push bike leaned against the wall. Seeing as it was your only option, you grabbed it and pedaled back into the city. 

#soft josh #joshua kiszka #Josh kiszka gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka #jacob kiszka #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka gvf #sam #sam x reader #sam gvf #sammy kiszka #sam kiszka #Daniel Wagner #danny wagner #danny x reader #danny gvf #danny wagner x reader

[bibbawrites]

Family Ties - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (16+)

Request: Can you please do one where either Charlie is meeting your family or you’re meeting his and he keeps trying to be touchy/wanting to have sex but you/him don’t want to get caught xx

Word Count: 1721 words 

Summary: your annual family trip gets a little bit more hands on when your boyfriend Charlie and his family join you

Warnings: heavy makeout, touching, a little bit of grinding, swearing, mentioned and implied sex 

A/N: sorry if this editing is shit my brain is not working lol  hopefully y’all like this one, ive been debating on rewriting it for what feels like years but fuck it i dont have that motivation lol  also idk if theres beaches in canada like what we have here in aus but if there isnt oh well in this fictional version of canada they have aussie beaches  anyways, enjoy! 

Tag List:  @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​ @littlemissaddict​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​ @headheartbellarke​​ @lovesanimals​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​ @fandomxreaders​​​ @ifilwtmfc

It had all started when you had jokingly suggested that you should invite your boyfriend Charlie and his family along on your annual family trip to the beach. Your mother had agreed, and before you knew it she was on the phone to Charlie’s mother working the whole plan out. 

Your family lives in Quebec, and Charlie’s in Dieppe, so your mum’s quickly decided that your family would drive to his house, and then the two families would continue the rest of the way together.

So that’s how you ended up in your dad’s old truck, pulling into the driveway of the Gillespie house at 6am in the morning after almost 8 hours of driving.

You jumped out quickly, wanting to get away from your brother’s annoying rap music and your sister’s constant whining about being bored as quickly as you could. The front door of Charlie’s house swung open and within a few seconds you were being pulled into the arms of your boyfriend, inhaling his familiar scent.

“God I missed you.” He murmured into your shoulder and you grinned.

“I missed you more handsome.” You replied, exchanging a soft kiss. 

Charlie’s family joined him outside and after a few quick introductions, you were on your way to the beach, this time tucked away in the passenger’s seat of Charlie’s car. 

- 

Once you arrived your families spent the day at the beach, and Charlie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. By the time you finally headed off to bed you were certain that every other person in the house was sick of his touchy behaviour. 

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, watching Charlie as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“I don’t think your dad likes me that much.” He said with a giggle, flopping down onto the bed. You rolled over to look at him.

“He’d like you a lot more if you stopped looking at me and touching me like you want to fuck me at every free moment you have.” You stated, and a light blush appeared on Charlie’s cheeks.

“You think he noticed that?” He asked, pressing his nose against yours.

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t. You haven’t been subtle at all. We’ve only been here for the day and you’ve tried to jump me three times and that’s not even counting the shower sex.” He grinned cheekily at your words.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so hot.” He whined, and you rolled your eyes.

“But we’re on a holiday with both of our families. You gotta tone down the horny.” You said. He sighed dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll try to be better tomorrow. But for now, we’re all alone... and it’s our first night...” He trailed off, pouting, his eyes dark with lust. You nodded once and that was all the consent he needed, crashing his lips against yours and making quick work of climbing on top of you and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned, your fingers scraping down his back as he grinded his hips into yours. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands finding a place in his hair. You tugged lightly on his hair causing him to moan into your mouth. 

“Hey Y/N?” Your mum’s voice called. 

“Shit.” You exclaimed, pushing Charlie off you. Not expecting the reaction, he jumped slightly, falling off the edge of the bed with a thud. 

You giggled as your mum opened the door, frowning as she took in the sight. 

“Charlie, why are you on the floor?” She questioned. You laughed harder. 

“Fell.” He replied simply, rolling over to stand up, climbing back onto the bed. 

“What’s up Mum?” You asked, hoping that you didn’t look like you had been making out with your boyfriend only moments ago. 

“Did you remember to grab the bag of board games? We were going to play Monopoly.” She said, leaning against the door. You nodded. 

“I put it in the little den room.” You told her and she smiled. 

“Thanks Hon, you two are welcome to join us if you’d like.” She invited. Charlie shook his head. 

“We’re good thanks Mrs Y/L/N. My mum is scary good at Monopoly so I’d rather not lose to her again.” He grinned and your mum returned the smile. 

“Well the offer is there if you want it.” She said, before leaving the room. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“That was a close one.” You mumbled. Charlie nodded, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled back, giving him an incredulous look. 

“Really? You’re still horny after being interrupted by my mum and monopoly?” You asked. Charlie pouted. 

“A bit.” He admitted. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away. He whined but gave in, curling up next to you instead. 

“Tomorrow night.” You said, flicking the tv on. Charlie snuggled his face into your upper back. 

“You promise?” He mumbled against your skin. You nodded. 

“I promise. But only if you’re good during the day.” You bargained. He thought for a moment before humming in agreement. 

“Deal.”

- 

“This is not being good.” You whispered to Charlie as his hand crawled up your thigh at lunch the next day. 

It was tradition for your family to get lunch at your favourite restaurant on the second day, and you had barely been there twenty minutes when Charlie started to get fidgety. 

“I’m not doing anything.” He lied, giving you an innocent smile. 

“Bullshit.” You muttered in reply, and Charlie shook his head, making a disapproving sound. 

“Language.” He faked disappointment. 

“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes. He gave you a flirty smile. 

“Oh I wish you would.” He teased, his voice deepening slightly. 

“Charles.” You warned, and he sighed, sitting back up again, his hand returning to your knee. 

“Remember our deal?” You said quietly, and he nodded. 

“How could I forget, I’m so sexually frustrated I might explode.” He admitted. You stared at him in disbelief.  

“We literally had sex yesterday evening.” You whispered, your voice hushed. Charlie nodded, eyes wide. 

“Exactly! It’s almost been a whole 24 hours.” He sighed. 

“A whole 24 hours since what?” Meghan questioned, and you choked on a mouthful of fish, grabbing your glass of Coke quickly to wash it down. 

“None of your business.” Charlie retorted. “Stop eavesdropping.” 

“Don’t have private conversations around other people then.” Meghan bit back, but dropped the conversation anyway. Charlie gave you a relieved look. 

“That was close.” You muttered. 

“You’re telling me. Almost enough to get rid of the semi in my pants.” He winked and you hit his arm.

“Charles. Stop it.” You reprimanded. He grinned cheekily. 

“You love me.” He sung, placing a wet kiss on your cheek. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“I’m reconsidering.” 

- 

“So what were you and Charlie discussing at lunch that was so private?” Meghan questioned, once you, her and your sister Isabella were alone sunbathing later that afternoon. You cringed slightly. 

“You don’t want to know.” You replied. 

“Oh god was it a sex thing?” Isabella gasped, and Meghan’s eyes widened in fear. You blushed. 

“I told you that you didn’t want to know.” You said simply, and they both squealed in disgust. 

“Do mum and dad know that you’re sleeping with Charlie?” Isabella asked after a pause. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m a fully grown adult Bel, I don’t need parental permission to have sex with my boyfriend.” You told her. Meghan fake gagged. 

“Can we not talk about this? I do not want to think about my brother having sex.” She begged. You grinned slightly. 

“You were the one who brought it up.” You said. Meghan sighed. 

“If I’d known it was a sex thing I would have never.” She replied. 

“With Charlie it’s always a sex thing.” You answered. 

Meghan and Isabella groaned in unison as you giggled, flopping back into your chair. 

You really needed to get some girl friends who weren’t your sister and your boyfriend’s sister.

- 

“Was I good today?” Charlie questioned, jumping onto the bed next to you as you scrolled through Instagram that night. 

You put you phone down, pretending to think. 

“Well, you tried to tease me at lunch and then tried to discuss it, which then led to me having a very awkward conversation with our sisters about our sex life. So I’m gonna go with no.” You said. Charlie’s eyes widened. 

“Y/N!” He gasped. “You can’t do that to me.” 

“Why not? I told you to be good and you weren’t so that’s on you.” You replied, returning to scrolling on your phone. Charlie placed his head on your chest, pouting.

“But...” He trailed off. You raised an eyebrow.

“But what?” You questioned. He sighed loudly.

“But I’m so horny.” He complained. You rolled your eyes.

“That sounds like a you problem.” You replied.

“Baby.” Charlie whined, dragging out the ‘y’. “I’m gonna get blue balls, do you want that?” 

“You’ve got hands. And I know you know how to use them.” You said. He sat up, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.  

“Please?” He asked. You stared at him, not wiling to budge.

“Your sex drive is frankly disturbing Gillespie.” You told him.

“I know.” He agreed, batting his eyes at you. “Please?” 

You groaned.

“Fine.” You said. His eyes widened.

“Really?” He questioned, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yes. Quickly, before I change my mind.” You nodded. Charlie moved forward but paused.

“Wait.” He said. You frowned.

“What now?” You questioned, your tone clearly showing your exasperation. 

“You want to do this, right? I’m not making you do anything you don’t want to be doing?” He asked, suddenly serious, and your frown fell as your heart filled with love for the boy in front of you and the fact that he was still asking for consent despite how desperately horny he claimed to be. You lent in, kissing him gently. 

“I promise you’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do.” You said softly.

“You’re sure?” He checked. You nodded. 

“Positive.” You reassured him. He grinned. 

“I love you.” He whispered, leaning closer. 

“I love you too.” You replied. 

And with that Charlie pulled you towards him, ready to show you just how much he really loved you. 

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #reader insert #charlie gillespie smut #charlie

[needlewind]

The Barn AU

So, I’ll be honest with you this AU kind of came out of no where but I’m... kind of in love with it now.

This AU pretty much destroys canon from the very beginning.

Into The Wild goes as planned except Sandstorm and Dustpelt become warriors alongside Graystripe and Fireheart. Also Sandstorm isn’t nearly as cruel to Fireheart and Graystripe and while Ravenpaw runs away it’s made clear Fire/Gray/Sand/Raven are a thing.

Fire and Ice is when we begin really changing shit. Brackenkit and Cinderkit stay kits who aren’t apprenticed to early. Graystripe still falls in love with Silverstream but he ropes Fireheart and Sandstorm into it so we get Fire/Gray/Sand/Silver.

With two of their partners in places where they can’t date them while still in Thunderclan, Fire, Gray, and Sand come up with the idea of moving into the barn with Raven and Barley. They of course invite Silverstream who longs for adventure outside of the clans and wants to be with her partners.

So everyone separates from the clans and moves into the barn. We work into a full polycule with Fire/Gray/Sand/Silver/Raven/Barley and it becomes clear Sand and Silver are pregnant with Fire and Gray’s kits respectively

Silver still dies while kitting, going into unexpected labor while out with Gray, Fire and Barley. Sand gives birth to her kits at the same time while in the barn with Raven but obviously she lives and Sand and Raven don’t find out Silver is dead until the others return.

Sand nurses Featherkit, Stormkit, Squirrelkit, Streamkit (Leafkit who was named after Silverstream rather then Leafstar who doesn’t exist in this au or fucking Spottedleaf) and eventually Cloudkit who Fireheart receives from Princess after visiting her just as he does in Forest of Secrets.

Tigerclaw does the dog thing but he does it without getting exiled from Thunderclan. Then he tries attacking Bluestar and Bluestar fucking kills him, putting the problem to rest so no one has to worry about it. Though he could also have been killed by Scouge while trying to make a deal or something. Admittedly, it doesn’t really matter. Point is, bitch is dead.

Featherpaw is still called on the journey, sneaking out after receiving prophetic dreams. Her siblings all end up following her and long story short, Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt end up getting stuck on a journey to the ocean with six apprentices.

Sharptooth isn’t a thing because I say so and as such no one dies on the journey. Though at some point Featherpaw does get some pretty severe injuries (maybe from trying to catch a hawk with the prey-hunters or something).

Stormpaw and Brook (who is also younger in this au) fall in love like in canon but instead of Storm moving in with Brook, Brook comes with Storm to the barn to stay with him.

Crowpaw and Featherpaw fall for each other and when the group gets back Crowpaw decides to join the other apprentices in the barn (it’s not like Windclan ever treated him particularly well anyway). The polycule welcomes him and gives everyone warrior names (Crow is insistent on the Feather suffix cuz he’s a fucking sap).

Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt are the ones who handle convincing the clans they gotta leave and like in the new prophecy (pretty sure it’s in Dawn) the clan cats stay in the barn for a few nights to prepare for the full journey.

When the clan cats leave a few stay behind. Dustpelt and Ferncloud along with Birchkit, Larchkit, and Hollykit (because they’re afraid for their kits survival on the journey as they should be and Dustpelt doesn’t want to leave his best friend and brother behind). Shrewtail (Shrewpaw who lived from the accident with the pheasant he’s just got a messed up leg, think Cinderpelt but a front leg) because well, his parents are staying with his younger siblings and he’s infatuated with Squirrelflight. Lostface (the dog incident happens but Fireheart isn’t wasn’t there to rename her), Swiftscar (he lived the attack but he’s fucking covered in scars and he’s missing a tail and leg) who both find themselves enamored with Cloudtail and their daughter Whitepaw also stays. Sorretail also stays, finding interest in Streamheart.

Streamheart also learns a sufficient amount of medicine from the different medicine cats in each clan after showing interest in the subject before the clans leave.

After the clans leave things sort of just... progress slowly. Fern and Dust’s second litter all live and they have Foxleap and Icecloud once the three earn their warrior names (Birchfall ofc, Larchwing and Hollywhisker). Though Hollywhisker dies at some point just before Feathertail has Crowfeather’s kits which end up being the three and they named Hollykit after her.

Jayfeather, Lionblaze and Hollyleaf are all named and because the three prophecy isn’t rlly a thing and they were never lied to or anything they a) don’t have powers and b) Hollyleaf doesn’t die ridiculously early

Breezepelt is also born at some point to Feathertail and Crowfeather, though whether it’s with the three or a separate litter is undecided and doesn’t particularly matter. Either way in this one he’s not nearly as much of a dick.

Birchfall and Whitewing have Dovekit and Ivykit together.

Graystripe meets Millie who moves with her housefolk somewhere nearby and she gets intergrated into the polycule where they eventually have Bumblekit, Blossomkit, and Briarkit

Stormfur and Brook have Larkkit, Breezekit, Pinekit, and Featherkit (unlike the other similar names this isn’t done because Feathertail is dead. Storm just really loves his sister).

Shrewtail and Squirrelflight have Alderkit, Juniperkit, Dandelionkit, and Sparkkit (and no one dies)

Lostface and Cloudtail have Amberkit, Snowkit and Dewkit.

Streamheart also passes down the information on herbs she gained meaning that many of the cats understand it (Lostface and Swiftscar also help having been locked in the medicine cat den for quite awhile).

Alderheart also finds Twigkit and Violetkit at some point but they’re just kits who were abandoned that he takes in to raise (maybe with Velvet though I don’t know enough about her to confidently add that in).

Essentially the barn cats sort of just grow on their own and become a group a bit like the sisters in that every cat sort of acts like the kits parents. They let in outsiders freely and it’s sort of it’s own peaceful little society. Because of the peace there’s little death and carnage as well so cats live for long periods of time (Ravenpaw’s cancer is a myth here, it doesn’t exist, begone angst).

#warriors #warrior cats #firegraysandsilverravenbarley #firegraysandravenbarleymillie #feathercrow #shrewsquirrel #swiftbrightcloud #sorrelleaf #ferndust #brookstorm #whitebirch #The Barn AU

[worldoffanfiction2021]

Eternal Love of Dream - Chapter Next 5

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/131730357839252427/)

It was the most exciting time of the year in Quinqui. It was time for harvest festival. This was a 7 day long festival with parades, performances from acrobats and a grand fair. Every year anyone related to Quinqui, no matter how far from home he might be, would make it a point to come. Even visitors from all over would gather here.

Bai Xian, the crown prince Ye Hua and their little son Ah-Li had also come to the fox den for this celebration. Ah-Li and Gungun were both super excited to go to the fair. Chong Lin was trying to keep them interested in other things long enough so that they could go only after the sun would go down a little. Bai Xian was so not wanting to walk around in the hot sun and had tasked Chong Lin with this duty.

She herself had come to Xiaobai's room and was helping her bathe and get dressed. Xiaobai had recovered quite a lot, but her wound still hurt if she tried to move quickly or even tried to comb her long hair. So Bai Xian had taken it upon herself to look after her favorite niece.

Dijun had ventured to the kitchen asking his mother-in-law's help to cook something tasty and nutritious for his wife. His mother-in-law was only too happy to oblige. Finding not much else to do by himself Ye Hua had joined in too. They all chatted and cooked away a whole feast with sweet and sour fish, noodle soup, congee and various types of cakes. All of them were feeling very accomplished. Dijun and Ye Hua loaded two trays with all the food and decided to go to Xiaobai's room so they all could eat together.

When the two reached Xiaobai's room, she had finished bathing and getting dressed. Bai Xian was combing her hair and they were chatting. "Please don't tell whatever I am about to say, to Dijun. I don't want him to feel any more guilty than what he is already feeling.", Fengjiu was saying. Dijun signalled to Ye Hua to stop and not enter the room. They both placed the food trays on a nearby table and waited. Ye Hua signalled to Dijun that he will be back soon and left in search of their sons.

"Ye Hua is a true gentleman!", mused Dijun and continued to eavesdrop. His wife was about to tell something to her aunt that she thought would make him feel guilty. So? It wasn't going to be pretty. But he was quite thick skinned and he could handle it. At least that's what he told himself at that time.

Fengjiu continued reminiscing and talking to her aunt. She was talking about some of the hardest days of her life and it wasn't easy for her. But this was her aunt and she was one person Fengjiu did not mind being herself with.

"I waited for Dijun for 73 days. Each day was harder than the one before, but I waited. Everyone told me he had chosen to go to demon realm with Ji Heng. I chose not to believe them.  I went to demon realm with Chong Lin to look for Dijun. There they told me he had been with Ji Heng. I was heartbroken.

I returned home here and was crying inconsolably in my room when medicine god Zhe Yan walked in. He sensed something off with me, checked my pulse and told me that I was pregnant. That moment! It changed my whole life.

I remember that night I did not sleep at all. But by the time morning came, I had made up my mind. God Zhe Yan  had left me two pills - one that would abort and another that would preserve the baby. He also left a note saying he would support me no matter what I picked.

This was my baby. Mine and Dijun's. The only man I have ever loved. This baby was symbol of my unconditional love for Dijun. I knew he had loved me sincerely too. May be after seeing Ji Heng in trouble, he had decided to spend the rest of his life with her. But I knew when he had told me he loved me, he had meant it. I would keep this baby and live for the baby. This baby would be my whole universe from then on.  I ate the pill that would preserve my baby.

Then I packed a few clothes, supplies to hide my birthmark, dress up as a man etc and left Quinqui. First I went to Sky Kingdom. Something in my heart was still not ready to let him go. I hoped to see him one last time. If he wanted to be with Ji Heng, all he had to do was tell me. I would get out of his way. But I didn't find him there. I knew I needed to be strong  for this baby. Especially since I would be his only parent. So I let go of everything and left sky kingdom.

From there I went to Nether world, and checked up on Ye Quingti. I knew I would pay his debt no matter what. I left a trinket with Lord Xie Gu so he could reach me when he needed me to wake Quingti up. And then i went to mortal realm and stayed there until... "

"Why mortal realm? Didn't you know you would be all alone and you wouldn't be able to use your magic either? How could you have acted so foolishly, Fengjiu?", scolded Bai Xian.

"Aunt, I chose mortal realm because I did not want anyone to find me. I knew if any of you had learned that I was pregnant, you would confront Dijun and make him take responsibility for me and the baby. I knew what it was like, to stay away from the one I loved, I could never wish that for him.", Fengjiu explained.

Bai Xian rolled her eyes indignantly and continued with the questions. "How did you manage your pregnancy? Going into labor? The delivery? Did you take care of yourself properly at all?". She was seriously concerned.

"I did the best I could. I went to mortal realm and worked as a cook in a restaurant at that time. It was really hard work all day long. My body ached all the time and I was exhausted. But at least the owner who was an old lady, was kind to me. She let me eat leftovers  and also let me take breaks often in my last month of pregnancy. She even revived me when I passed out from 3 days of labor pains and she helped me deliver Gungun safely. I am so grateful to her.

I was really sad when her son showed up 3 months later and wanted to force himself on me. I fought him, made him unconscious and ran away with Gungun. I did suffer physically and I was also very sad to leave the old lady to look after herself. But, I had no choice, so I did what I could.", Fengju tried in vain to make light of it. Bai Xian was appalled at what she heard.

And so was Dijun. He felt he had been too naive in thinking he could handle whatever he heard about her days in mortal realm. He had really underestimated her hardships.

Her days had been hard. When she had given him up, she had also given up her family and friends. All because of him. He knew he could never repay her for the things he had put her through.

"You are a Princess of Quinqui. You are the Monarch of this kingdom. You are the Empress of one of the most prestigious, powerful and revered god in the Sky Kingdom. Yet you had to work in restaurant and pass out from labor pains with no one to look after you. That's just so ...... ", Bai Xian was so furious, so flabbergasted that she could not find the right words at all.

"How can you love someone so much? How can you love him so much?", she asked incredulously to Fengjiu.

"Love is mysterious in its ways.", Fengjiu replied with a faint smile.

She knew her aunt was very angry. So Fengjiu reached for her aunt's hand. She hugged her aunt and wiped her aunt’s tears smilingly. Bai Xian's anger melted away. No one could stay angry at Fengjiu for long. With more tears in her eyes, Bai Xian planted a kiss on Fengjiu's head and held her close.

Dijun decided it was about time the ladies were interrupted. He wasn't sure he could bear to know any more of the hardships this delicate woman had toughed out because of him. He wasn't that thick skinned after all. He picked up the tray of food that had gone cold and heated everything back up with magic. He saw Ye Hua return with both the kids and together they walked in.

They sat in a circle and ate together. Both guys were pretty happy seeing their wives eat and praise the food they had prepared.

Dijun kept stealing weird glances at Xiaobai. She could sense something off about him. Was he worried about something? Was he about to go away soon and leave her for long time again? That thought scared her and made her very sad. But watching him smile at Gungun, she reasoned with herself that that must not be the case. She would have to ask him later when they were alone, she decided.

And she did get a chance to be alone with him soon. After the food was all gobbled up, Ah-Li reminded everyone that they had to go to the fair after lunch. So Gungun, Ah-Li, Bai Xian and Ye Hua all got ready to go.

“I will bring you sugar paintings, mom. Tell me what kind you want?”, Gungun said.

“Bring me back one dragon and one fox.”, she replied and exchanged a meaningful look with Dijun. That did bring back fond memories and a smile to Dijun’s face. She was happy to see her trick had worked to lighten his mood.

After they were all gone, Dijun closed the door behind them. He came back to her and helped her walk to the window. Although it was quite bright and sunny outside, the glorious willow tree in the yard provided just enough shade on the window seat. They both sat there with Dijun wrapping his arms around Xiaobai.

“What’s going on, Dijun? What’s been worrying you? Please tell me. And please be completely honest with me, ok? No matter how bad whatever that is, I want to know. And I want to work together with you to make it better. So tell me why you are so sad, so worried?” Xiaobai said looking into his eyes with  sincerity.

“Xiaobai, I overheard what you were telling your aunt about the time of Gungun’s birth. I am feeling so guilty about that. As a husband I have failed you. Miserably failed you. I am so very sorry.”, Dijun’s voice cracked.

Xiaobai let out a long sigh and took his hands in hers. She looked at him, quite relieved that the worry wasn't anything about their future. She began to talk. “Dijun, what has passed is gone by. No matter what, we can never change it. So please let it all go. I do feel guilty about misunderstanding you, about talking to you coldly last time we met in the Sky Kingdom and keeping your son away from you for so long. But I am learning from it and learning to let it go. Let’s promise to always be completely honest with each other. Let’s start over, ok?”

A deep sigh left Dijun’s mouth as relief washed over him. His Xiaobai was still willing to give him another chance. She was asking to start afresh with him.

“When did my silly little fox become so wise?”, he chuckled and petted her nose. Hugging her, he let out a long sigh. She shifted to be more closer to him.

He pulled her close and said, “Are you tired, Xiaobai? Sleep a little if you are tired.” He planted a soft kiss on her hair, “Be a good girl and take rest for a while. We can take a small walk outside later if you feel better.”

“Hhmm..”, she said. Then she  sunk her head on his chest and closed her eyes contentedly.

#three lives three worlds the pillow book #eternal love of dream #pillow book #bai feng jiu #dong hua #donghua dijun #xiao bai #cdrama

[thewhumperinwhite]

ATTD: The Wolf Pup, Without His Pack (2)

previous // masterlist

@whump-cravings @favwhumpstuff @whumpitywhumpwhump

TW for: minor whumpee (nonhuman); nonhuman whumpee; use of it pronouns; implied parental neglect/Bad Parenting In General; referenced parental death.

----

Old Cruci hated humans.

Usually it was hard to see what Old Cruci was feeling. Old Cruci said things like “I have sworn on my life to protect you” and “Your coat is dirty; clean it” in the same tone of voice. Saren had never seen Old Cruci smile, and even his frown was often hard to see—just a twitch down at the corner of his mouth, and up in the middle of one of his eyebrows. The only time, really, that Saren could tell what Cruci was thinking was when he spoke of humans.

“They are like flies,” Cruci said once, when Saren had asked him too many times. His lip curled up, to show his pointed teeth, and his nose wrinkled, like he was smelling something bad. “They breed like flies, and die like flies. One is easily swatted, but more are always coming. They eat dead flesh and carry disease.” Then he met Saren’s eyes—Saren froze, right down to his marrow, for Cruci had never looked at him like that before—and narrowed his violet eyes. “You have seen flies, pup. Then you need never see a human. One is as good as the other. Do not ask of this again.”

That had made Saren relax, a little. Old Cruci said “do not ask of this again” often enough that it was no longer frightening. In fact, it might be that Cruci said “do not ask of this again” more often than he said anything else, at least to Saren.

Saren had reasons to hate humans, too. He was small when the Betrayer slew the Great Wolf, and burned the old Den to the ground. He never met the man himself. But Saren remembered the Great Wolf—remembered the Great Wolf’s dimpled smile and bright easy laugh; remembered clinging to the Great Wolf’s back as they ran through the trees, faster than lightning; remembered riding on the Great Wolf’s shoulders and the smell of the Great Wolf’s pelt when he carried Saren, half asleep, to bed. Saren knew what humans had taken from the Wolves, and what the Betrayer had taken from him, as well.

But Saren remembered the Great Wolf, and he knew that his father would not wish him to hate a people he had never seen.

So he didn’t ask Old Cruci where the humans lived, or whether he could go, and see them for himself. Cruci was not his father; Cruci could not decide who Saren would hate. And, anyway, Cruci had said himself that Saren was not to ask him of humans again.

Saren didn’t realize until after the iron-tipped arrow had torn into his shoulder that since he had not told Cruci where he was going, all the promises in the world would not let Old Cruci come and save him, now.

The human den was like nothing Saren had ever seen before—huge and labyrinthine, a thousand times more than the caves around the Wolf Den, which he had thought himself so clever for mastering. And Old Cruci was right about at least one thing: there were too many humans. He must have seen a hundred of them, by now, and more every time he turned a corner, and at least a dozen carrying weapons, and running after him now, and shouting in a language he did not understand.

Saren was a Wolf, on of Those That Chase, he should have been able to leave all these men in their clanging armor behind in an instant. But the arrow was tipped in iron, and his shoulder still burned, even though he had pulled it out, and now his feet were clumsy and slow, and he could not stop even long enough to pull his pelt back around him and be a proper Wolf again. And he was entirely lost, now, with no idea which way was back to the gate, or even where the wall was; and he couldn’t scale it now, not before they could all reload their bows, and—

There was a human in the middle of the road. Saren barreled into it at full speed, landing on the dirt in a heap, then scrambled to gather up his pelt and turned, ran through the first open door he saw.

The building was empty, thank all Fathers. There were boxes, made of wood, scattered around, mainly empty, though a few had straw or bits of canvas or ceramic in them. Saren found one, tipped over on its side, that was just bigger than himself—in this shape, anyway, which was a little smaller—and folded himself into it. He pulled his pelt around his shoulders, wanting to be in his own shape again—to have his proper teeth and claws at least—but the box was too small; there was no room to sink into his pelt and change back.

Outside, a harsh voice barked an order Saren didn’t understand. A softer voice followed it. Saren curled tightly in on himself and covered his head with both hands, tucked his face into his pelt.

As though that would help. He was the son of the Great Wolf, and ought to rise to meet them. Even this many humans would not have overwhelmed his father—the Betrayer had done it only through lies and trickery. Old Cruci would see this many humans and roll his eyes and burn them all to ash.

The humans clattered in their armor, yelling again.

At least Old Cruci wasn’t here to see him cry, he thought.

It was strangely quiet, then, for a little two long. The box was very small; Saren had the mad thought that humans must have been cruel after all, to leave him here to get cramp before they took his head and put it on their coat of arms.

Then the building’s door creaked quietly open, and Saren heard the faint noise of bare feet on the packed-earth floor.

He still didn’t understand the voice that called out. But it was quiet, soft with dry-rusted edges; not very like the soldiers’ terrifying barks at all.

Then, after a moment, the same voice cleared its throat, and called softly, “Little Demon? Are you here?”

Saren had understood not one word since he had come to the humans’ den, but this was clear as day. He jumped, a little, and tapped his head lightly against the box, and then its lid slid free and slapped loudly against the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust, which made Saren cough.

Saren froze.

There was a pause, and then the bare foot steps approached, light and slow. Saren tried to fold himself even further into the box, but there was nowhere left to go. He wrapped his pelt around his shoulders, and bared his teeth, ready to bite.

The human knelt in front of Saren’s box. It did not step as close as he had feared. There was room to run past it, even, if he dared.

Saren stared at it.

It wasn’t the littlest human he had seen—right at the beginning, when he was clinging to the top of the wall around the human den, he had seen two humans littler than him, colored like Cruci with black hair and brown skin, heads bent together, laughing. This human was taller, and older—though not much, Saren reminded himself, since humans aged so much like flies—and colored different, with messy yellow hair cropped short, and pale pinkish skin, torn and red in places. It was taller, but a thousand times thinner, swimming in spun-cloth clothes far to big for its narrow sharp-boned frame.

Its pale skeleton’s face went soft the moment it could see Saren in the darkness. A sword hung at its hip, but the hand it held out toward Saren was empty.

“Hello, little one,” the human said softly, and smiled.

----

The demon, visible mainly as a pair of shiny cat-eyes, stared out of the crate at the boy called Will.

“…you speak human,” it said after a moment. Will almost laughed.

It was a child’s voice, clear enough. And it had looked like a child, out on the street. And it had left a little trail of blood inside this empty storefront. Will could just see the shape of it, now, curled with its knees to its chest, like a child hiding in a closet.

The thought of it made his chest ache.

“Here, little one,” he said, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “Isn’t that box a little small for you?”

The demon narrowed its cat-pupiled eyes very slightly, and said nothing.

“The guards are off away, for now,” Will told it. “I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.”

The demon stared at him, and leaned forward a little out of its tightly-curled position. Light from the empty windows landed on a lock of storm-gray hair; it seemed to be wearing a cloak of matching gray fur around its shoulders.

“Why?” it said, half accusing and half curious.

“You’re a child,” Will said, before he could think better of it. “And they hurt you, didn’t they?”

The demon crept further out of the crate, in order to give Will a deeply skeptical look.

“I am not a child,” it said, sounding less insulted and more—like it thought Will might be deeply stupid. “I am a Wolf. And only barely littler than you, any—oh!”

When it tried to put weight on its left arm, it winced badly, clutching at its shoulder. Will moved forward immediately, without thinking; the wolf moved quickly back, baring its teeth—but so clearly frightened, rather than angry, that Will did not even move back, only raised his hands, to show that they were empty.

“I won’t hurt you, little wolf,” he said softly. “I—"

(Another, smaller voice, saying: “You Promise?”

And himself, on his knees again, smiling with bruised lips: “I Promise.”)

The demon was staring at him, tilting its head slightly. Will had no idea what his face had been doing. He swallowed hard, and remembered how to smile with a little effort.

“I—” His voice was hoarse; he cleared his throat, flushing. “You have my word.”

The demon studied him with open curiosity. It opened its mouth, its small fangs just visible.

“Captain!—Look, there’s a whole trail of blood here, it must be—”

The first guard’s voice was high and excited; the best-armored guard, who must have been the captain, did not sound angry either, though Will had no doubt that part would come.

“What on earth’s the meaning of this, boy?” the guard captain said.

He was standing in the storefront’s doorway, his hand resting idly on his sword, gaping at Will. He hadn’t even really seen the demon yet; it was already disappearing into the crate.

There were a dozen guards on the street, now, wondering why their captain had stopped in the doorway, when there were children to kill inside.

Will felt his hand drop to the hilt of his sword, without entirely deciding it should do so.

“There must be a back door,” he said softly, his eyes still on the guard captain. “Find it, and stick to the back alleys. There’s an inn two streets down; stay out of sight, until you see a man come out, wearing a green shirt, like this one.”

“What the hell are you doing?” the guard captain said, just now beginning to raise his voice.

Will got carefully to his feet. He heard the wolf-child gasp, behind him, but put his back to it.

“I might ask you the same thing,” Will said, coldly, and drew his sword.

#all those that dance #whump #original whump #fantasy whump #minor whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #death of a parent

[soyforramen]

BHDC Day 2

Day 1 Here

Graduation

It didn’t really matter, he reminded himself.  It was just college graduation.  And it wasn’t as if he’d be able to use the degree, being a vampire and, oh, right, majoring in Victorian Lit.  Not much of a market for vampires who fit the Byronic tropes, after all.

Jughead waited in the arena lobby, hoping to see a hint of flaming red hair or over worn flannel.  Happy families swarmed around him, their emotions palpable and overwhelming.  Any other time he’d have been bowled over by the sheer force of emotions surrounding him, the smell of life thick on his tongue.  Instead he was focused more on his own dreary thoughts.  

He’d finally graduated after six long years of late nights, early mornings, and a lot of odd jobs to pull together the money for the ridiculously priced classes.  And he was alone again without anyone there to cheer him on.  It was something he’d grown accustomed to - first his parents, then his sister, then Toni.  But it still stung when the two people who’d always been there for him, no matter the circumstances, were missing.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he could have done this himself.  Not without -

His junky old phone chimed and he answered, turning into an alcove to block some of the noise.

“Jug.”

Fred’s familiar voice was soothing, enough to quell Jughead’s morose thoughts.  That was dashed quickly when Fred continued, his voice tight with worry.

“You haven’t seen Archie, have you?”

Worry grew, its small, biting teeth cutting through Jughead’s stomach.

“No, I thought he was with you guys.  He hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

“Mine either.”  

Jughead could imagine Fred pacing the floor and rubbing at his forehead.  A single father, he’d never been comfortable without hearing from Archie.  And when Jughead unofficially joined the fold, Fred had worried just as much, if not more, about him.

“He’s done this before,” Fred continued.  “But never for this long.”

“He texted me a few nights ago.  He’d mentioned a club, but -“

“Did he mention the name?”

Jughead shook his head, guilt over not getting more information.  “No, just that he’d met someone.”

“Thanks, Jug.  And I’m sorry we missed it.”

“I would have missed it too if I’d known -“

“No, I didn’t want you missing your big day.  I’m sure I’m just being a worry wart and Archie’s off somewhere chasing some girl …” Fred trailed off.

The silence between them stretched on as families posed for pictures and made plans for lunch.  In any other reality that could have been him.  His parents, smiling and proud, JB teasing him.  But in this one he only had himself, and the Andrews to rely on.

“What can I do?”

“Not much right now.  Archie will call,” Fred said with a certainty that felt forced.  “Rain check on the celebration?”

Jughead agreed, and they hung up, each promising to let the other know when - if - they heard from him.  He wandered around after that, lost in his thoughts.  Archie was a rover, sure.  But he’d never leave like that, not without letting Fred or Jughead know where he was going.  Werewolves were pack animals and they were always in constant communication with the other.  If one went silent, something had to be wrong.

It occurred to him, as he wandered through the arena, that there was one person who could track Archie down.  Someone who owed him, majorly.  The same person he’d sworn never to talk to for the rest of his life.

With nothing else to go one, and trusting that Fred had tracked down every lead, it was a sacrifice Jughead had to make.

His phone rang through to voicemail and he cringed at the sugary sweet message.  Everything about it made him want to hang up.  It wasn’t as if he couldn’t do this alone; if anyone could find Archie, it was Jughead.  They’d grown up together and knew each other better than their own self.

It was a self-soothing lie and he knew it.

The message cut off and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Veronica.  It’s Jughead.  I’m calling in that favor.  Meet me at the diner off East Riverdale, at sun down.”

Now all he had left to do was wait.

Two Truths and a Lie

“Well?”  

The fae grinned, smug in its little game.  

Betty scowled at it and shifted against her bonds.  There was little worse than fae - self-assured tricksters, liars, and thieves - and yet she’d had to deal with far too many of them to get to this point.  If this is what it took to find Polly, she’d damn well better get more at Christmas than a hand-made scarf and a store bought card.

“Just tell me where my sister is, you weirdo.”

Reggie chuckled and leaned forward in his seat.  He curled a lock of her ponytail around his finger, and Betty almost fell over trying to jerk away from him.

“Oh come on, Betts.  I thought you enjoyed our tete-a-tetes.”  

“I don’t have time for this Reggie.  Polly is missing.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Did you check with her new beau?”

Betty narrowed her eyes.  “Polly hasn’t dated anyone since -“

He hummed.  “I thought you two told each other everything.”  

Reggie examined his fingernails as the realization hit her.  The late nights, sneaking out, hiding her phone, clandestine calls.  It all made sense now why Polly had gone distant the month before her disappearance.

“That bitch,” she muttered, pained by her sister’s betrayal.  Betty had done all this, asked favors from all her contacts, joined up with a vampire for Gaia’s sake, and all because Polly decided to go on a mini-honeymoon with some man!

They told each other everything, and Polly didn’t even hint that she was seeing someone.  Secrets, lies, hopes, fears; nothing was unknown between them.  Polly even knew about her unintelligible crush on Mary Shelley!  

With one single, huge, looming, omission, Polly had broken ties with her, casting her on the same level as their mother.  They were sisters, in blood and magic.  The whole coven was in uproar over her disappearance and yet -

Reggie snapped to bring her attention back to him.  He preened when he saw her turn towards him.

“You can stew later, Betty.  I’m right in front of you, and I’d hate for you to lose this visual opportunity.”

She rolled her eyes but forced her indignation to the back of her mind.  Reggie might be a swell enough guy, for a faery, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t the most narcissistic man she’d ever met.

“Fine.  What else do you know about my sister.”  She cut him off before he could be coy about fae rules.  “And what do you want in return?”

He held up two fingers.  “Two truths,” he paused to hold up one more finger on his other hand, “and a lie.  I get to determine which is the lie.  If I’m right, you stay here and entertain me for a while.  If I’m wrong, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Betty huffed, ready for this to be over with.  She’d spent far too long here trying to assuage Reggie’s vanity and Jughead had probably gotten bored and wandered off by now.  

“Fine.”

“What’s your relationship with the odd-ball outside?”

“Business.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow and Betty fought back a groan.  Of course that wouldn’t be enough.  Fae were the biggest gossips in the underground that the appearance of anyone outside of their regular patterns drew the curiosity of all.

“His best friend went missing at the same time and same place my sister did, The Woods two weeks ago, and we’re trying to find them.”

Reggie seemed to accept that answer, mulling it over in his mind.  “Truth.  Question number two.  How far have you two gone?”

Flashes of crimson light, teeth grazing her neck, early morning sunlight in an unfamiliar bed…

“We can’t stand each other to be in the same room.  He’s almost bit me twice -“

“Kinky.”

“- and I tried to catch him on fire.”

Well, she didn’t try to catch him on fire.  Not entirely.  She’d warned Jughead three times not to cross the lines.  

Reggie mulled her answer over like a fine wine.  Betty hadn’t quite followed the rules of the game; her answer wasn’t quite a lie, but it also wasn’t entirely the truth.  

“I’ll decide that one in a minute.  Question three: When was the last time you thought of me naked?”

Betty’s cheeks flushed and she cursed herself for not seeing this coming.  Her ex always had been fond of riling her up, but she didn’t think Reggie would take the opportunity to do so now.  

“Before we came to see you,”  she blurted out, knowing it was a lie.  

She hadn’t thought about Reggie in any way other than an information source, not since her excursion into the Vixen’s Den.  Whatever spell they’d put on her there, she hadn’t thought about Reggie until this morning.  Even then he was just a means to an end.  Any lurid thoughts she might have had ran towards the darker, colder side of the world.

Still, Reggie seemed pleased with her answer.  Ego stroked, he couldn’t help but smirk.  “That’s the truth,” he said confidently.

The bindings around her fell away, and his face turned into the true mask of the fae.  Elongated and wrinkled, it looked more like an old wooden mask than a creature claiming humanity.  At the fear in her eyes he took a deep breath, his face returning to its normal handsome countenance.

“All right.  A deal’s a deal.  I’ll tell you what I know about your sister,” Reggie promised.  

Betty breathed a sigh of relief.  As annoying, frustrating, and untruthful as the fae were, at least he was bearable.

Chatroom/Discord Server

“They responded.”

Betty surged forward, the coffee in her hand barely surviving the movement.  She crowded next to him on the couch their knees knocking together.  Jughead instinctively moved away and rebalanced the distance between them.  There were rules about these things. Rules that polite society dictated, and vampires were sticklers for polite society.  Something to do with longevity, he supposed.  

This witch seemed to throw all those rules out the window.  Perhaps the covens had different rules, but regardless.  There were rules.

She ignored, or perhaps didn’t even recognize, his distaste, her eyes fixed on the screen.  

“Tell them I’m Polly’s sister,” she ordered in response to the on screen question.

Jughead rolled his eyes but did as told.  Bossy as she was, her ideas had worked so far.  Well, all except the one with the ice cream and motor oil.  He’d never get that stain out of his hat.  

A thinking bubble came up on screen, then disappeared, as the person on the other end wrote and deleted their message.  For a long time the screen was blank and he let out a heavy sigh.  Betty stared at the screen and worried at her bottom lip.  

She smelled like coffee now, the lavender and rosemary long gone.  Cheap, burnt coffee from an overpriced cafe.  Nothing like what he’d drunk when he was alive.  It had been one of his vices, the one thing he was willing to pay far too much of his precious earnings for.   He wondered what it would taste like now, whether it would be as bitter as it smelled, or whether the taste of her lips -

The computer dinged and he shook himself out of it.  These strange feelings bothered him; the sooner they figured this out the quicker he could go back to his mostly solitary life and away from this witch trying to draw him under her spell.

She glanced at him, waiting for his reaction.  “Well?”

He shrugged and leaned back against the couch trying to discreetly read the screen.  

“Anyplace we suggest they’ll likely turn down unless it’s clandestine.  If this is who really is behind the disappearances they’re not going to want to take the chance of getting caught.”

Betty’s face fell and she pulled at the sleeves of her sweater.  It stung to see her like that, and he reminded himself he was here for Archie, not some strange puppy crush.  

Wait.

“The South Side park, just off of West 9.”

She glanced up at him, a moue on her face that made him want -

“Isn’t that were territory?”

He nodded.  

“And you’re …?”

He nodded again.  “It’s … complicated.”  She gave him a look, one he was quickly learning she was filing information away for later, but thankfully didn’t ask anything else.

“Noon, tomorrow at the abandoned parking structure,” she said.

Jughead’s fingers flew over the keyboard and, with a final glance at Betty, the message was sent.  This time, the answer came right away.

They both breathed a sigh of relief at the response.  For the first time in a month, the tension eased from Jughead’s body and he allowed himself a moment of relaxation.  

“So, you and werewolves?”

He rolled his eyes and stood.  “Noon, tomorrow,” he reminded her before walking out of the cafe.

#bughead drabble challenge #not a drabble! #boom up before noon #yay me #now to draft day 3

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline Fic Rec Event 2020 - Day 3: Angst

Title: The Devil's Backbone

Author: willowaus / @willowaus

Summary: With the race on for the cure, some will fall, some will rise, and some will go insane. Friendships end and new ones spark as secrets are revealed and what some believe to be the truth will turn out to be nothing but lies. While others may discover that they're not as different as they had believed. But will it matter if there is no world left? Set after 4x09. [Klaus/Caroline]

Warnings: couple people get rather tortured, an entire dinner party gets eaten, Kol just basically Exists, kidnapping, murder, mayhem, one (1) den of iniquity, a werewolf transformation sequence or three, Elena BSOD, Damon's usual finesse with sire bonds, dead children mention, Klaus burns down at least one town, smut, gratuitous use of compulsion, someone stakes themself, some discussion of Damon being The Worst and Why, a few side character deaths

Status: Complete

Why you should read it: Okay so this is a whole redo of the Silas arc from right after Klaus slaughters the hybrids. Basically works from the premise of "What if these characters actually were ruthless immortal monsters instead of like, kind of evil foils to the Salvatore plot armor?" Like right off the bat Klaus is like "I need some information. I know! I will torture it out of Stefan!" and then he fuckin does bc Nutjob McMikaelson rules in this planetary house, yo.

Kol ends up getting wind of the cult of Silas being back to party and he goes fuckin apeshit. Kidnaps Caroline to force Klaus to murder some people ("Did you try and ask him?" AGSJDKAAH CAROLINE) and starts off the first of several fun road trips in this fic. Klaus comes in clutch and then hunts a motherfucker down to get his girl. Caroline and him spend the rest of the fic in a hilarious dynamic of "Maybe we could not murder literally everyone that looks at me?" while he's like "Nah," and then eats them.

The whole Silas plot mystery is great and them doing research to Defeat The Evil while the evil laughs from the shadows is fun. The character dynamics are even more fun tho, even tho there is angst here that does not sleep. Caroline has to come to terms with her vampire existence in a big way while still being true to her core. Klaus has to chill out abt the fact that his heart now exists outside his body in Caroline's tiny hands, and by that i mean he does not chill out, not even a little bit, rest in pieces dude.

Basically if you want intense creeper murder Klaus, this is ur fuckin stop and it is so good. Also contains homicidal siblings sharing one (1) collective brain cell, bad ass Bennett witch fu, actual Forbes parenting, Katherine scheming, Tyler being just literally so dumb, staring into the distance and muttering "Why?" while Damon and Stefan just keep doing the most, and Rebekah making even more bad decisions. I'm making this sound really fun maybe (and it is) but i was stressing the fuck out the whole time bc im not an angst slut and actively avoid it most of the time but like, please read this fic it is good and will restore ur crops.

Thanks @klaroline-events for putting up with my 5am the next day entries for this shindig every day, ur stellar!

#kcficrecevent #klaroline-events #willowaus #do y'all see a theme in how i like my Klaus? #pls just let him murder ppl i beg u #like okay the tags say Angst so im counting this on a technicality #i haven't read fic in three days bc i keep writing reviews let me rest #constantly like 'do i like The Devils Backbone or Wicked Schemes the best?' and then i just shoot myself in the foot and read both again #im like 90% sure everyone here has read this fic so grats on having excellent taste y'all

[inukouga]

memories through song

inuyasha pride month 2020, day 18 - inukog

Kouga plays a quick little tune. “So. What’d ya think?” He takes note of Inuyasha’s ears, which are laying flat against his head at the harsh sounds, and snorts. “That fuckin’ bad, huh?”

“Was a lot worse than I thought you’d do, and that’s saying something.” He hears Kouga laugh.

non au

pairing(s):  inukog (established)

words: 1.4k+

a/n: initially wrote this for inukog week when the prompt was ‘music’ (which is why it’s about what it’s about) and forgot to finish it until it was too late.... but now im finishing it and posting it for inukog day babey!!!! you can read this on ao3 as well! i’m inukouga on there too

“...What’s that?”

They’re resting after a successful hunt, with Kouga lying against Inuyasha’s shoulder as the latter sits against the walls of the cavern.

Kouga sits up and looks over to where Inuyasha’s pointing, and spots what, at first, seems to be a short stick on the cavern ground. He frowns, initially confused, before his eyes light up with recognition as he leans forward to examine it more closely.

“What? Oh, the flute? We use it for certain traditional ceremonies and stuff. Like vigils, marriages, burials and a few others,” He picks up the crudely carved wooden flute and holds it out for Inuyasha to see it better. “ Lots of people in the tribe were taught to play by the elders or their parents. Some of ‘em really end up enjoying it and learn until they master it. Even use it to communicate with ancestors.”

Inuyasha peers at it curiously. “Huh.”

“Was never too good at this,” Kouga says. There are a few things etched on it; Inuyasha can make out strange, foreign symbols he doesn’t understand along with a deep groove that vaguely resembles the silhouette of a howling wolf. “It’s more Hakkaku’s thing.”

“You play?” Inuyasha asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Kinda? Hakkaku taught me how to play a long time ago, but I’m definitely not as good.” Kouga dusts off the mouthpiece and plays a quick little tune. “So. What’d ya think?” He takes note of Inuyasha’s ears, which are laying flat against his head at the harsh, jarring sounds, and snorts. “That fuckin’ bad, huh?”

“Was a lot worse than I thought you’d do, and that’s saying something.” He hears Kouga laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Think you could do better, pup?” Kouga asks. Inuyasha rolls his eyes at the stupid nickname that he’s definitely not secretly fond of.

“Yeah, I mean how hard can it be?” 

“It ain’t as easy as it looks, trust me. ‘Sides, this one isn’t too well made,” He runs a clawed finger along its jagged edges. “One of the younger wolves must’ve made it.”

Inuyasha smirks. “Keep makin’ excuses.”

Kouga scoffs and tries to play another note. It sounds slightly better this time, but Inuyasha still winces exaggeratedly, chuckling when the wolf demon rolls his eyes.

“Oh, quit whinin’, it wasn’t even that terrible that time.”

It honestly hadn’t been. But Inuyasha can’t resist messing with him a little bit.

“Whatever helps ya sleep at night.”

Kouga huffs childishly, turning the flute back and forth in his hands. 

“Well? Ain’t gonna get better just sittin’ there are ya?” He doesn’t even need to turn and look to know that Kouga’s grinning at him, and doesn’t even try to fight off his own small smile. “More you practice, better you’ll get.”

“Tch. If ya wanna hear more so bad, you could just ask.” He brings the flute up to his lips, and after playing a few more notes to warm up, he takes a deep breath as if he’s preparing himself for something. “My, uh, my mother— she used to play this for me when I was a pup,” Inuyasha falls silent, listening attentively. 

Kouga’s mother is a topic that’s rarely brought up by the aforementioned demon himself, and though the rest of the tribe still speak of the previous Chief up now and then, they’re all very careful of what they say when Kouga’s around. 

Inuyasha can tell that though decades have passed since her passing, there’s a part of Kouga that still grieves sometimes. He knows that the suddenness of it and the lack of closure both still haunt him.

“She was... just okay at it, my father was a lot better honestly. She didn’t really have lots of time to practice as the Chief. But she did have this one song she’d play really well. Knocked me right out when I was bein’ a brat and wouldn’t fall asleep.”  He smiles in remembrance.

It’s quiet for a long moment. Sounds of the waterfall right outside the wolf den echo loudly off the rocky walls of the caves amidst the silence. 

Right when Inuyasha’s about to ask if Kouga’s alright, he begins to play.

The first thing that he notes is that the lullaby is nothing complex or grand. The same eight notes are present throughout the whole song, and though the order in which they’re played changes every now and then, the structure of the song remains the same for the most part.

But, despite all of that, it resonates with Inuyasha far more than anything he’s ever heard before, shockingly profound in its simplicity. The melody graces his ears gently, and he finds himself briefly overwhelmed with the sheer amount of everything he’s feeling. He can hear history in it, can see generations of wolf demons, young and old, play this for their kin with a desire for those that came before them to be remembered. He closes his eyes and focuses solely on listening, taking note of the undertones of wistful yearning, and he wonders if it’s present in the original lullaby or if that’s just Kouga letting some of his own emotions bleed into his performance.

Once Inuyasha learns how it goes, he begins to hum along lowly, thinking of warm hands that healed wounds and wiped tears away, whispered words of comfort and brown eyes gazing at him with unadulterated maternal adoration.

He opens his eyes slowly, feeling a little drowsy, and doesn’t even realize Kouga’s stopped playing until the wolf demon lets out a shaky exhale.

“So,” He rasps. “What’d ya think?”

“That wasn’t so bad,” Inuyasha says softly, after a few beats of stunned silence. Words escape him as always, despite how much he wants to say more.

Kouga shrugs. “Definitely not as good as when she did it, but it’s— it’s nice to play it every now and then.”

Inuyasha can’t help but whisper to him. “...You okay?”

“Yeah,” Broad shoulders sag slowly, and then, a long sigh. “Yeah, I am.”

There’s a silence then, and Kouga’s mother’s song keeps playing itself in his head over and over, the gentle tune somehow familiar to him despite never having heard it before. Kouga lies back against Inuyasha’s shoulder as he’d been doing earlier, absentmindedly playing a few notes on the flute. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Inuyasha prompts Kouga to elaborate with a grunt. His tone is lighthearted, and it helps lift the somber mood some. “Think you’d play better than I do?”

Inuyasha wonders if he’d be able to play songs his own mother used to sing to him when he was younger. “If I got Hakkaku to teach me for a bit, I’m sure I’d be able to.” 

It’d never compare to hearing her actual voice, soft and soothing and never failing to make him feel safe when it seemed that the whole world was against him. But it’d be... it’d be another connection he’d have with her. There are parts of the songs that he doesn’t remember, but maybe learning to play them would jog his memory and would ensure they wouldn’t be lost to time. Maybe he could even play them for the younger wolves and share it with them as well, and Kouga too, sharing a part of his mother with him like the wolf demon had just done. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Kouga mumbles, twirling the flute in his hand almost reverently, eyes still misty with nostalgia. “Who knows? Maybe you actually have some sorta hidden talent. Could make up for how much you eat dirt when we spar.”

Inuyasha opens an eye to glare at him. “The hell are you talkin’ about, wolf?” He hisses. “I beat you at sparring tons of times before. More than you’ve beat me.”

“That was just luck,” Kouga teases, putting down the flute and slightly turning to peer at Inuyasha with a playful glint in his eye. “Flukes, all of ‘em.”

“Flukes!?” Inuyasha blurts out incredulously, ignoring the tug in his chest at the sight of Kouga’s grin. “I’ll show you a ‘fluke’ you damn—“

“Nah, later,” Kouga yawns loudly, and Inuyasha knows he’s being obnoxious on purpose. He has half a mind to move his shoulder and let Kouga sleep on the hard, rocky ground, but something inside him makes him decide against it. “Think I’m gonna take a quick nap first.”

Inuyasha scoffs, but lowers his shoulder a bit so Kouga can rest on it more comfortably. “Looks like the song still works. If anything I’ll learn just so I can play that and knock you out when you’re being dumb so I can have some peace and quiet.” 

“If you end up being just as bad as me, all you’ll end up doing is giving me nightmares,” Kouga shuts his eyes. “Now shut up, I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

Inuyasha huffs, irritated, but he relents. He makes a mental note to not make it easy for Kouga the next time they spar before he succumbs to his earlier drowsiness and falls asleep too, meeting Izayoi in his dreams.

#inuyashapride2020 #inukog #inuyasha #kouga #YEAH BABEY FINALLY POSTIN MORE FICS #my fics

[7-wonders]

To Fight the Powers that Be

Summary: Duncan Shepherd decides that, before he makes (Y/N) prove that she won’t go to the police about the crimes she’s witnessed, he needs to teach her a bit about defending herself.

Word Count: 3438

A/N: Welcome back to another chapter of Memento Mori, my crime boss!Duncan Shepherd AU story! I sincerely hope you enjoy. Likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated, if you feel so inclined, and my inbox is always open for people to chat. Finally, a big thanks to @lvngdvns for thrusting this idea to the forefront of this fandom’s mind, and to my beloved @divinelangdon for being a constant support throughout this writing process.

Warnings: Trespassing, mentions of mafia dealings, guns. All of the knowledge about guns in this chapter is from the brain of yours truly, who has trained around guns since she was 10.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2: To Fight the Powers that Be

In the three days since (Y/N) had been abruptly dumped in the living room of her apartment after being kidnapped, she had gotten a total of ten hours of sleep. It wasn’t that she was scared of the Shepherd family; no, she was downright terrified. Her eyes burned from a lack of sleep, her stomach churned from all of the caffeine she had forced down her throat, and her mind raced with paranoid thoughts at every unfamiliar sight and sound she encountered. Any person she hadn’t seen before, any sound she hadn’t heard before, anything that looked out of place, immediately had her spine stiffening and her heart thumping.

Her friends and coworkers had all been extremely concerned when she showed up in public with bruises of varying shades and a noticeable cut above her left eyebrow. She had been able to convince them that she had been jumped on her way home the other night, but that only served to have everyone try and contact the police on her behalf. Frantically, (Y/N) had to think quickly and say that the police had been contacted and that they were being careful due to the possibility of this being related to gang activity; a half-lie. They had still been worried, of course, but were willing to acquiesce now that they believed the authorities were involved. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them--it’s what they did know that would hurt them.

(Y/N) couldn’t decide if Shepherd and his goons not showing up yet was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe they had finally come to their senses and decided that she’s not actually a threat to their massive crime syndicate. They could also simply be laying in wait, biding their time for the perfect moment to kill her and make it look like an accident. It seems far more likely, however, that they’re just enjoying drawing out the wait and making her squirm. 

Opening the door to her apartment, (Y/N)’s immediately aware that something is wrong. The door leading to her bedroom is closed, and she’s certain that it was open before she left this morning. A sensible person would backtrack out of the apartment and call the police, but a sensible person also doesn’t get wrapped up in mafia dealings. If (Y/N) calls the cops and it does turn out that whoever’s in her apartment has been sent by Duncan Shepherd to kill her, there’s no telling what would happen to her loved ones and herself, provided she survive fighting off a trained assassin.

Quietly opening the closet door to her left, (Y/N) grabs the baseball bat her father insisted she keep handy in case of intruders. At the time, she had rolled her eyes and made fun of it, but now she’s thankful she had listened. She’s grateful that the door doesn’t bang against the frame, or that the handle doesn’t make a sound when she releases it. 

(Y/N) holds her breath as she creeps closer to her bedroom, the bat clutched tightly in her hands and held up like she’s ready to swing at a pitch. She can’t help but feel a bit like the cliche “final girl” in a horror movie, bravely, yet stupidly advancing towards the danger that lies straight ahead. Stepping over a part of the floor that she knows is capable of creaking loudly, (Y/N) feels a surge of adrenaline rush through her now that she’s right outside of the door. It’s open just a crack, and hearing rustling from inside confirms her fears that someone had broken into her home.

Deep breath, (Y/N) thinks, closing her eyes and attempting to gather up enough courage to actually go in and face the intruder head-on. Her grip on the bat tightens, and she starts to count to three.

1...she moves her knee against the door.

2...she opens her eyes and steadies herself.

3...she kicks the door open with a gusto.

Without giving herself time to think, (Y/N) charges into her bedroom with her weapon at the ready. The room’s dark, so she can’t see who is here with her, but she does see that it’s someone tall and broad-shouldered. She immediately swings for the person’s head, but they’re faster than she is. 

Within seconds (Y/N)’s disarmed and pinned up against the wall, an arm over her shoulders and a hand over her mouth. She’s breathing heavily, shaking from the fear that death is now imminent, when she finally realizes that the blue eyes she’s staring into are Duncan Shepherd’s blue eyes.

“You’re not going to scream if I remove my hand, now, are you (Y/N)?” his silky voice cuts through the air. He’s satisfied when she shakes her head as far as she can with the limited mobility that being caught in Shepherd’s grasp allows, and pulls his hand away from her face. “Good girl.”

(Y/N) scoffs and attempts to push him off of her, but is disheartened to find that he barely budges. “It’s rude to break into somebody’s house, you know. You could have at least called ahead.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

“How did you even get in here?” The moment she asks the question, she knows the answer. Choosing to avoid his smug retort, she keeps talking. “For a mafia boss, you’re not very stealthy.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t want you to know I was here, you wouldn’t.” She wants to call his bluff, but the look that he’s giving her lets her know that he’s completely serious. “Nice little place you’ve got here, by the way. It’s...comfortable.”

“What do you want, Duncan? I’m guessing you didn’t come here to make small talk.”

“You’re correct.” He releases his hold on her, and she breathes deeply at the sudden lack of a weight over her chest.

“Need me to run drugs? Go…” she racks her brain, trying to think of what a man like him would need from someone like her, “go and rough somebody up?”

Duncan chuckles, picking up a photo on (Y/N)’s dresser of her and her parents at her high school graduation and looking at it idly. “I actually was going to give you your first assignment, but then I realized: you’ve had absolutely no sort of training whatsoever, self-defense or otherwise. I may be cruel, but I’m not cruel enough to throw somebody into the lion’s den completely unprepared.”

“I know loads of self-defense!” (Y/N) yelps when Duncan crosses the room quickly and grabs her wrist, pulling her arm straight, and examining her palm.

“No, you don’t. Look at you,” Duncan mutters, lightly tracing over the planes of her hand, “these are not the hands of someone who’s fought before.”

“I’ve been in fights before!” A lie, but she might as well run with it now that she’s gone this far.

“Don’t lie to me, (Y/N). You’re lucky that I decided to stop by instead of Langdon; he doesn’t tolerate liars.” A chill runs up her spine at the thought of that horrendous man.

“If you only came here to make fun of me, I’d rather you just kill me instead.”

“Now, that’s not the only reason.” Duncan lets go of (Y/N)’s hand and walks out of her bedroom, leaving her standing utterly confused.

“Wh-where are you going?”

“I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself, of course.” He looks behind his shoulder at her, a small smile on his face. “Are you coming or not?”

//

She hadn’t been expecting Duncan to take her to an elaborate gym tucked in the middle of the city, but she hadn’t been expecting most events that had happened to her lately. “You own this, then?” (Y/N) asks, following Duncan through the deserted lobby. 

“Technically, no. However, the owners of this business have a contract with my family, where we invest in the business and make sure that there’s no competition in this area in exchange for a cut of their profits and use of the property however we see fit.”

(Y/N) wrinkles her nose. “All illegal, I’m guessing?” Duncan remains silent, but the smirk playing on his lips tells her that she’s right on the nose. “So what sort of self-defense are you going to teach me today?”

“Nothing too strenuous, don’t worry.” She comes to a stop at a door marked ‘private,’ Duncan entering a password on the keypad and pressing his hand to the screen that opens up underneath the keypad. The LED light blinks green and a mechanical hissing signify the unlocking of the door, which Duncan quickly opens. “Today, we’ll most likely just work on weapons training.”

“There’s an entire shooting range back here!” (Y/N) notes in awe, taking in the sight of a large gun range behind the inconspicuous door that they came through. Upon realizing that Duncan’s already walked ahead of her and is unlocking a large cabinet, she hurries to catch up to him.

“You’ve never held a gun before,” Duncan notes, opening the cabinet to reveal a large arsenal of guns. All different models, sizes, types; (Y/N)’s pretty sure that if there’s a gun that’s been manufactured before, the Shepherd family owns it. 

“I--”

“Don’t try to deny it. I could tell the moment I looked at your hands earlier.” When she quirks a questioning brow, Duncan elaborates. “You don’t have any sort of calluses on your trigger finger, or where your hands would rest against a gun.”

“I have to admit, I’m pretty impressed at what you can tell just from looking at a person’s hands.”

He chuckles, looking through his catalogue’s worth of guns before grabbing one off of the wall. It’s a handgun, that much she’s certain, but she doesn’t know anything else about the weapon beside that. “This is a Glock.” Duncan holds out the gun to (Y/N), who nods.

“I have no clue what that means.”

“It’s the type of gun.”

“So I’m guessing it’s a good gun?”

“Yes, it’s an extremely good gun.” He notices how apprehensively she’s staring at it and sighs. “Lesson number one: don’t be afraid of the gun. It’s not going to do anything that you don’t want it to. Especially when it’s not loaded.”

(Y/N) bites back a mean-spirited comment. “I’m not afraid of the gun, I’m just not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with an unloaded gun.”

“We’re going to load it.” Pressing a small button on the side, a piece of the gun slides out of the bottom while the top slides back. “This is the magazine, where the bullets are stored. Typically, any gun that you receive will already be loaded, but it’s good to learn how to load a gun.”

He hands her the empty magazine and sets a box of bullets on the table, watching with a skilled eye as she examines the shiny lead pieces. Picking one up, she holds it between her fingers and rolls it around in her palm before putting it in the magazine. “Like that?”

“Yes, perfect.” She repeats her actions until 13 rounds have been loaded. “Now load it back into the gun. Don’t be soft about it, you need to do it quickly so you can hear it click into place.”

This part’s a little more difficult, but she still manages to get the magazine back into the gun. “What do I do now? The top part is still out.”

“Hand me the gun.” (Y/N) does as she’s told, and watches as Duncan handles the weapon like he’s had a gun in his hand from the moment he was born. “Racking the slide back is tricky, as it’s really easy to get your hand pinched when the slide goes back into place.”

She holds her breath as the gun does exactly as he said it would, sliding back into place harshly. If she had been the one to do that, it’s almost a guarantee that she would now have an injured hand.

“Don’t ever point a gun at anything unless you’re prepared and willing to shoot. Hopefully, it will not come to you ever having to actually shoot, but just pointing it at a person takes an extraordinary amount of willpower.” 

Duncan presses a small piece next to the trigger, which (Y/N) figures with her limited amount of firearm knowledge to be the safety. Gripping the gun with one hand, he lifts his arm and points the weapon at a target with the silhouette of a person on it across the room. He doesn’t even have to look through the sight before he fires, staring down the range and delicately pulling the trigger a millisecond after (Y/N) claps her hands over her ears. The gun fires twice, one bullet striking the chest, and the other striking the head.

“Now it’s your turn.” Duncan turns the safety back on before he gives the gun back to (Y/N), and she attempts to mimic the stance that he had assumed when shooting.

The gun feels even more foreign in her hand now, the metal still slightly hot from recently being fired. It’s heavy, and it doesn’t feel right as she holds it like Duncan had. Looking over at him with a frown, no words are necessary when her face expresses her displeasure.

“May I?” Duncan asks, gesturing to her hands. (Y/N) nods, and Duncan moves behind her. “Your grip is too tense,” he mutters, gently adjusting her grip on the gun. 

“Wasn’t aware you could hold a gun too tightly.”

“It affects the trajectory of your bullet, miss know-it-all.” He takes a step back to look over her stance, nodding to himself. “Now place your other hand on the bottom of the gun. You’ll want some more force to keep the gun from recoiling too hard on your first time shooting.”

“I can’t hold it with one hand like you did?”

Duncan shakes his head. “Just--shoot, and you’ll see why you need two hands.” Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) clicks off the safety just as Duncan had and stares down the room at the target against the other wall. 

She’s not sure what she thought shooting a gun would be like, but whatever her imagination had decided was nothing when it came to actually shooting the gun. The moment she pulls the trigger, the gun jumps in her grasp, and she has to hold on even tighter to keep it from flying out of her hands. The sound of the gun going off reminds her of a small cannon, and her ears ring from the proximity. There’s not a third hole to join the previous two on the picture of the target, which means she completely missed.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, shakily turning the safety back on before setting the gun down on the table.

“Told you that you’d need both hands on the gun.” Duncan tries not to sound smug, but that’s impossible when the regular tone of his voice is smug.

“I didn’t think it’d do that!”

Duncan bites his lip to keep from laughing. “Come on, try it again. I want to at least see you hit the target before we’re done.”

Although (Y/N) eyes him warily, she still picks up the gun and resumes the same stance. This time, she’s a little more prepared when she fires, but she still manages to completely miss the target as she puts most of her focus on keeping the gun from jumping.

“It’s useless to try and teach me.” She scrunches her nose, trying to get rid of the ringing in her ears. “I’m not going to hit that stupid target, and if things go the way I’m hoping then I won’t even have to pull a gun on someone.”

“But if it does come to that, wouldn’t you want to have some sort of assurance that you will at least hit somebody if you need to shoot them?”

“Yes,” she admits begrudgingly. 

“Is it alright if I help you, then?”

“Yeah, sure.” (Y/N) watch Duncan closely as he moves behind her again. “Just--no funny business, mister.”

He huffs out a laugh, but nods. “Eyes on your target,” he mutters into her ear.

Duncan’s chest rests against (Y/N)’s back as his arms loop around her, coming to rest on top of her hands. (Y/N)’s breath hitches, imperceptibly to most, but to someone with the ability to read people like a seasoned FBI agent, that small tic of emotion is clear as day to Duncan. Laying his chin on her shoulder, he lifts the gun, and her arms, up to point at the target.

“The key,” he says quietly, his chest rumbling with the vibrations of his voice, “is when you shoot. People think that the way they breathe doesn’t affect the shot, but it does. You want to pull the trigger when you exhale.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders are tense as she tries not to think about the dangerous crime boss that could easily kill her with the position they’re both currently in. “Okay, shoot on the exhale. Got it.”

“Look through your sight on the exhale before you shoot, that way you can get a feel for where you’re shooting.”

“Pretty sure I won’t have enough time to do all this when there’s some goon coming at me with the sole objective to kill me.”

“It becomes much easier after you’ve practiced a few times.”

“Like riding a bike,” she mutters.

“Pick where you’re going to shoot.” He redirects her attention to the task at hand. (Y/N) aims for the chest, where Duncan had first shot, and desperately tries to keep her hands steady. “Ready?”

“I think so.” She’s not ready, but there’s no time like the present, so she tries to convince herself as well as Duncan of the opposite.

Duncan places his trigger finger over hers. “Breathe in,” he commands, breathing in with her so she has no choice but to follow. “Out, and shoot.”

As (Y/N)’s shoulders come back down with an exhale, Duncan waits until he feels the muscle of her trigger finger start to tense as she pulls the trigger, only moving when she does. The gun moves far less than it has previously, another set of hands helping to keep it in the position that it’s supposed to be in. (Y/N) still twitches a little bit when she shoots, and the bullet doesn’t land where she planned for it to be. Instead, it’s a few inches up, hitting the target in the side of the neck. 

“Damn,” she mutters, relaxing back into Duncan’s grasp without noticing she’s doing so, “really thought I had that.”

“It was much better than last time,” he reassures her. “After all, you actually hit the target.”

(Y/N) cranes her head back to glare at him, the smile on her face betraying her. “Rude,” she admonishes. 

The smile on her face freezes when she realizes that she’s still wrapped in Duncan’s arms, the man awkwardly clearing his throat and unwrapping his arms from around her. She looks ahead at the target, anything to avoid looking him in the eyes.

“I think that’ll be good for today, now that you’ve at least held and shot a gun.”

“Yeah, that’s--that’s a good idea.” She walks towards the wall, grabbing the bag she had hastily snagged on her way out of her apartment. “Are my ears always going to ring like that?”

Duncan shakes his head. “No. Eventually, you’ll get used to the sound.”

“Great. Cool.” She bobs her head, trying to think of something else to say. “Um, see ya around, I guess?”

“Have a good night, (Y/N).” She nearly rushes out of the door as soon as Duncan makes it clear he’s done with her for now, waiting until the cool evening air hits her face outside to process what had happened.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispers, running a hand through her hair as she walks quickly down the sidewalk.

(Y/N)’s not going to let herself get flustered from minor physical contact. She’s stared death in the eye now; there’s no reason to get nervous about the leader of a mob teaching her how to shoot. Still, she finds herself haunted by Duncan Shepherd for the rest of the night, his scent lingering on the air, his touch still ghosting along her skin, and his eyes haunting her in her dreams.

//

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[a-ratt]

Great you got me imagining that either Marinette leaves the school for good after that or she ending up becoming akumatized, expose Lila and attacks the others for throwing her away then leaves the school.

Okay, uh, I getting to this a lot later than I’d hoped. Really like the prompt, despite how general it is.

Um… guess I’ll start?

Before, Marinette was not willing to entertain the thought of leaving

Collège Françoise Dupont. It was her second home, a place where she met her friends and mentors. But now, it had become a den of lies and betrayal. Those who she’d supported throughout the years had so easily turned their backs on her. Even Adrien, who she had loved with all her heart, had shown his true colors. That sunshine glow dimmed and she was left with the blatant truth. It just wasn’t worth it.

So, she agreed to her parents’ proposition. They would transfer her to another school as soon as they could. However, “as-soon-as-they-could” couldn’t come soon enough.

Marinette is forced to endure a few more days while the paperwork goes through. She has to sit with her classmates as they whisper about Adrien’s somber, melancholic mood. She has to learn with them as they gossip about Adrien’s every guilty look in her direction that is met by her own glare. She has to endure Alya’s interrogations as she tries to uncover the truth about the sudden tension between them all.

On her last day at  Collège Françoise Dupont, she means to leave early. Her work is done, her farewells said. Mlle. Bustier wishes her good times, much to her classmates’ confusion. All except one.

Lila meets her outside in the courtyard. She’d disappeared earlier under the pretense of a bathroom break. She should’ve known better.

“It’s like I told you,“ she taunted, “you’re either with me or against me.“

Marinette tries to remain resolute. She tries to ignore her. Yet, good cannot remain idle in the face of evil.

So, she takes a stand. She confronts Lila on everything. She tries to reason before she tries to antagonize. Though she’s leaving, that doesn’t mean Lila has won. One day, possibly soon, everything she’s done will come to a head. When it does, Marinette will be laughing on the other side of Paris.

Lila, not one to not have the last laugh, threatens her family. She tries to play off that her lies will spread farther, that people will start to look at Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie with disdain. They’ll mark the fresh goods as stale. The flavors will be bland. The reviews will never reach above four stars.

She leaves Marinette with that thought, returning to class as the other girl fumes.

If there is one thing that Marinette holds above duty, it’s family. And she’ll be damned if she lets this monster hurt her family.

She’s too lost in her rage to hear the flutter of butterfly wings or feel the feather-light touch of Hawkmoth’s akuma until the glow of his insignia frames her face.

“Hello, Apollyon,“ he coos. “Hello, my avenging angel. A wrong has been done upon you, but it can be made right. Take my power and in return I only request Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.“

None the wiser to his victim’s alter ego, he eagerly anticipates her answer.

“Yes, Hawkmoth.“

Suddenly, Collège Françoise Dupont is shrouded in shadows. No, the world is. The sunlight has dimmed. The clouds have grown dark. Mist pours through the doors and windows, and the very air grows a chill.

Mlle. Bustier’s class huddle together, fear gripping their hearts without reason or rationality. Not even Max can comprehend the logic behind this. With that knowledge, they decide that an akuma is behind this.

They are right. And they are wrong.

The akuma appears before them in a flare of cold, white light. But it’s not just an akuma.

Marinette is wreathed in a ghostly white toga. Though much of her petite figure is shown, it is not sensuality that is invoked, but dread. Her skin is pale. Paler than bone, if it were possible. Her eyes match that muteness, no longer bright like bluebells, but cold like ice. From her back sprout spectral wings, four in number, each in the form of skeletal frames rather than feathered limbs.

“Lila Rossi.“ Her voice is cold and faraway, sounding like it is coming from every direction. “You have trespassed me for the last time!“

She raises her hands and magic erupts in her palms. Mist pours from between her fingertips, then rises and forms into the shape of a scythe. It appears in her hands with a flash, long and sharp, forged from a metal that reflects the fear in their souls.

“Marinette?“ Adrien breathes.

“Girl, what is wrong with you!“ Alya cries.

“Y-You gotta calm down, Mari!“ Nino shouts.

The class pleads, but the angel of death simply narrows her eyes.

“Marinette is dead.” There is no room for doubt in her tone. “I. Am. Apollyon. And I bring vengeance.“

She raises her scythe, but Adrien tackles Lila to the ground. Her swing misses and the class scatters, running in all directions.

Apollyon snarls and swings again. She catches Kim in the side and he stops. His soul seeps from the wound, pouring into the blade of her scythe.

“Oh, Kim,“ she coos. “I had a soft spot for you. The both of us, children of foreigners, living in a world dominated by Westernization.” She fingers the blade, running her thumb along its edge. Mist pours from the wound and in the blade’s reflection, the class sees Kim trying to escape, hands and face pressed against the steel as if it were a window. “But, your pride and arrogance, all of that stubbornness, it’s lead to more harm than good.”

Apollyon glances at the soulless corpse at her feet and sighs. “I think you need a lesson in humility.” She points her scythe at the body. “Rise and serve me. Let justice be done!”

There is a flash and a flare, then Kim’s screams echo throughout the classroom. A moment later, Kim rises and stares out across his classmates. His eyes are glossy and his body is stiff, but he stumbles towards them nonetheless.

“Take them!“ Apollyon commands. “I will judge them, one-by-one, until retribution is mine!“

#ask apex #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #original akuma #akumanette #apollyon #this is actually my favorite akuma design #ml salt #marinette leaves the school #apollyon au

[svtts]

camp leader!jae x camp leader!fem reader

→ category: angst/fluff

→ topic: you and jae had been best friends since your first year at camp when you were five. however, you'd both caught feelings for eachother and your first summer being camp leaders seemed to aid in getting you together.

→ warnings: none

i

summer 2019! the year you’d finally be a camp leader instead of a camper. everything was so exciting, you’d trained all year round for this.

there were ten camp leaders, five female and five male. lucky for you, you were the leader of the bear-cub girl group, which consisted of five girls, all aged 7-14 and you loved them.

a trait that you had acquired after endless years at camp was being competitive, the five girls being equally as competitive as you. especially against bear-cub boy group leader, jae. i mean, it wasn’t your fault that he always seemed to do well in everything effortlessly!

[♫] love by lana del rey

ii

—‘the world is yours and you can’t refuse it.’ 

the constant teasing, small yet noticeable skinship and giggles from both of you made it pretty damn obvious you were into eachother.

almost every camper, leader and parent could see the chemistry between the both of you. however, you were both too dense to realise.

you’d gotten up promptly, getting ready before sliding your beat-up doc martens on and strolling out of your shared hut, with the other female leaders.

jae was standing on the porch, as he always does, waiting for you.

‘good morning sunshine.’ he says, poking your side as you laugh lightly.

‘good morning jae.’ you tell him as you head to the two identical bear-cub huts opposite eachother, discussing the plan for the day.

‘rise and shine girlies.’ you shouted, knocking on the door lightly as jae said the same, swapping girlies with uglies instead. ‘fifteen minutes until breakfast.’

you plopped down next to jae on the grass outside the huts. as he lied down, the sun reflected on his fair skin, making his plump pink lips highlighted. you studied his face before he spoke out.

‘are you wearing suncream? it’s already warm and you’ll get burnt soon.’ he says, opening his eyes to look at you. he looked at you closely, drawing your features with his eyes, although he wanted to run his fingers along your cheeks. 

‘i knew there was something i forgot.’ you cursed silently, standing up.

‘do you have some?’ he questioned, leaning up.

‘i should.’ you answer him.

‘you’re so dumb, how can someone as pale as you forget to put suncream on.’ he laughs and you pout, kicking him lightly.

‘why can’t they see that they’re basically in love?’ eunsol said, peeking out of the window, one of the other girls next to her, as they cooed at jae and you.

‘we should get them to date.’ the older one, yeri, suggested. ‘i’m sure the boys would help us.’

[♫] brooklyn baby by lana del rey

iii

—‘i think i’m too cool to know you, you say i’m like the ice i freeze.’ 

as you rushed into the canteen, freshly covered in factor 40 suncream, you scan the hall for jae and the ten kids.

it doesn’t take long before you hear his loud yet, cute laugh. making your way to the back table where all of them are seated, a space left next to jae for you.

‘look! here’s a sun-protected _______.’ jae says, the ten kids all laughing lightly.

‘hey! i just wanted to make sure you were all awake!’ you exclaimed, looking at the five girls that were eating and whispering to the other boys.

‘i got your food.’ jae tells you, giving you your usual breakfast, before continuing to eat his.

‘thank you.’ you say, beginning to eat. ‘why are they all whispering so much today?’

‘i have no idea. hey! are you keeping secrets from us?’ jae pouted and a small smile played on your lips as you watched him.

ever since you were young, you’d be coming to summer camp. you and jae met on your first year due to being in the same group and ever since you’d be best friends; all through your early teenage years, to training and getting qualifications to now.

‘see.’ the older girl whispered to the older boy, both of them coming up with a plan to get the both of you together.

‘i’ll talk to jae, you talk to ______. maybe we can get one of them to admit to us that they like eachother.’ he suggests and she nods before telling the others.

after a silly breakfast, as jae began to joke with the smallest camper, asking her to do his hair as she shook her head laughing.

‘den building huh?’ you said, walking next to jae and one of the younger boys.

‘ah! we’re gonna be so good at this!’ jae squeals enthusiastically, high fiving the boy at your side.

‘hey! we’re supposed to be a whole team.’ you whine and jae messes up your hair playfully.

‘girls vs. boys.’ he says as you begin to enter the woods, keeping a count on the kids you have with you.

‘i mean, if you want to play like that.’ you shrug, walking faster than jae, grabbing the smaller girls hand. ‘pick a spot for us to make dens missy.’

the littlest waddles to a few trees, many logs and leaves on the floor near them. ‘here!’

‘so, we’ll have here and, you can have the ones parallel to us.’ you offer to boys.

‘perfect!’ one of the five boys says enthusiastically.

‘ok, we have forty-five minutes. starting,’ jae pauses momentarily to look at his phone. ‘now!’

immediately, a group meeting is called where the girls decide that you and the oldest, yeri, will walk around looking for branches and logs big enough, the middle three, chaeyoung, eunsol and jungeun, with work on constructing it and the youngest, haejin , will pick flowers from the middle of the two dens for decoration.

‘jae, are you alright to stay here whilst we gather some stuff.’ you ask, and he nods pointing finger guns at you whilst winking.

you lightly blush at his foolishness before yeri grabs your hand, dragging you into the he woods.

‘so, jae?’ she wiggles her eyebrows.

‘what do you mean?’ you answer as you bend over to brush some leaves off a log.

‘i mean, it’s pretty obvious you like him.’ she spills out and you pause.

‘is it that obvious?’ you say, looking up at her as she laughs and nods. ‘i mean, it’s just the little things, like the caring for me and the play-fullness and the-‘

‘as much as i would adore to hear you awe over jae, we need to get a plan in action.’ she says.

‘no we do not.’ you answer back, picking up a log as she copies. grabbing a few extra as well.

‘come on! you can’t just hide behind your feelings. live a little!’ she suggests and you shake your head.

‘i’m pretty sure i don’t want to get humiliated by being turnt down by my colleague and best friend.’ you tell her as you both begin to head back.

‘oh my gosh, _______, you’re so dense! he likes you too! it’s so obvious.’ she tells you exaggeratedly.

‘yeah and pigs can fly.’ you say before the conversation ends as you arrive back at the den building area. you can’t help but feeling on edge, now she knows, who’s to say she won’t tell the girls, who will tell the boys, who will tell jae.

you push it to the back of your head as you begin to help construct the den, jae now gone off with the oldest of his group to gather supplies.

[♫] love by lana del rey

iv

—‘it’s enough just to make you feel crazy, sometimes.’ 

it had been three weeks since your conversation with the yeri, and so far nothing had changed. jae had still be the same, however he seemed to touch you and hug you a lot more.

everyday was eventful and fun, you were by far having the best summer of your life. the good thing is, as you had a permanent job here, you’d stay here all year round.

the camp opened on the weekend near halloween however, the activities where completely different, ranging from ghost hunts to pumpkin carving.

once the children left, in two and a half weeks, you’d be moving around the huts and cleaning, fixing up the activity huts, checking the quality of all the equipment.

any lonely person would find that tedious and annoying however, jae would be with you the whole time and you can’t help but look forward to it.

as much as you hated to be adhering to the ‘best friend to lovers’ cliche, you were completely head over heels for jae. he made the most boring thing into the funnest, most exciting thing ever by only cracking a few jokes or imaging something extravagant or adventurous.

his cute laugh was something you lived for, it sounded like music to your ears and his voice. his voice was angelic whenever he sung. he only really sung when he’d whip out his guitar at the last campfire of the summer. but, you couldn’t help but get excited thinking about him singing in two weeks time.

your crush was making you feel crazy, making you go insane with love.

v

today, all your plans were ruined when it began to rain as you arrived at the lake. luckily, you and jae had planned for when the weather was rough.

all twelve of you had rushed back to camp, and huddled up in the boys hut.

‘we should tell ghost stories!’ one of the boys suggested as you felt a small pull on your shorts. you look down to see the haejin , looking quite distraught.

‘what’s wrong? hey, don’t cry.’ you say, bending down to pull her into a hug.

‘i left my teddy bear by the lake.’ she stutters.

‘hey, i can go and get it now! we’ll get him back.’ you tell her as you stroke her arm, calmly.

one of the girls takes the youngest, distracting her with the boys as they do silly tricks.

‘what’s happened?’ jae says quietly behind you, his breath on your neck. you can’t help but wonder, what would it feel like to have his lips on your neck?

quickly, you snap out of your mini trance and turn around to him. ‘she left her teddy by the lake, i’m gonna run and grab it.’

‘are you sure? it’s really bad weather and you could get hurt or lost.’ he says, worry laced in every word.

‘i promise you i’ll be fine.’ you reassure him but, he doesn’t look convinced. there’s a moment where jae wishes he kissed your cheek then instead, it passed and you pulled your coat on and rushed out of the door.

jae tried his best to be his normal, funny and entertaining self as he worried about you however, the ten kids could see straight through him.

‘we all know you like _______.’ chaeyoung says and jae looks at the oldest boy.

‘pffft, no i don’t.’ he tried to deny.

‘yeah right, so if _______ was to date,’ she pauses. ‘baekhyun from woodpecker, you’d be totally fine with it?’ these children knew how to get what they wanted, and they were doing a really good job at it.

‘i mean no, she’s free to date who she wants right?’ jae says, biting his lip and looking away from the ten.

‘so if they cuddled up at the campfire, and always kissed,’ chaeyoung began to taunt.

‘ok no. that won’t happen, she’s not even close with baekhyun. and plus, i won’t let that happen.’ jae blurts out.

‘date already!’ one of the boys giggles whilst the others fake gag.

‘i don’t know.’ jae answers back.

‘she literally told me she likes you! just hurry up so we can see you two days before we leave!’ yeri strops.

‘she did?’ jae questioned, and they all sigh.

‘yes.’ she answers blankly as if to say duh jae stop being so dense. jae smiles to himself at the thought of you being his girlfriend, being able to hold you, kiss you, call you his.

soon enough half an hour has gone by and you’re still not back, to make matters worse it had begun to thunder as well.

jae was getting increasingly worried, fiddling with his fingers, trying to distract himself with playing monopoly with the kids.

he’d finally reached for his phone pulling it out and discovering yours in his pocket as well. damn you, jae, always looking after her stuff.

‘guys i’m going to call chan, sit tight.’ he tells the ten as he heads outside onto the porch briefly, the kids all occupied playing the game, or at least trying.

‘chan, can you hear me?’ jae says, he has no idea whether the weather would affect the connection between the phones.

‘jae, yeah. what’s up?’ he answers almost instantly.

‘is there a chance you can watch my lot, _____ has gone into the woods to get a lost toy and she hasn’t come back yet.’ jae rushes.

‘i’m in the canteen with my lot, bring them over to me and i’ll watch them.’ he answers and jae thanks him before getting the children into their coats and rushing to the canteen.

[♫] im with you by vance joy

vi

— ‘you looked at me and said, baby this rain changes everything.’

as soon as the ten kids are dropped off with chan and jihyo, the leaders of the crocodile group, jae sprints towards the lake.

every single bad scenario runs through his head, it was muddy and the rain could easily batter someone as small and fragile as you.

‘______!’ he shouts, as he wipes his glasses. he recalls what you were wearing, a pair of shorts, your dark blue camp leader top, identical to his and a matching dark blue raincoat.

as he approaches the side of the lake by the shelter, he’s had to wipe his glasses multiple times and he was soaked through.

‘_______!’ he tries again. he peeks into the small shelter and his heart suddenly races. your cuddled in the corner, desperately trying to warm yourself up, your legs covered in mud.

‘_____, oh my god.’ he quickly runs to you, pulling you into his arms, feeling your cold damp skin against his warm skin.

‘i’m sorry, i tripped and i thought i’d wait until the storm passed, but then i started to get really cold and-‘

before you can continue rambling, a soft pair of lips land on yours. it feels like every bit of cold nibbling at you had warmed up, and the sound of the rain had stopped. you both pulled away to breathe as he admires your face.

‘o-oh.’ you stuttered. he laughs lightly, helping you stand up.

‘please be careful, i was so worried, you’re freezing cold and wet, you could’ve died.’ he exclaims.

‘maybe a slight over exaggeration but, i’m fine jae, really.’ you tell him, but he shakes his head. he turns before grabbing the teddy bear that you had collected and placed next to you on the ground.

‘i’m going to call chan, then we’ll head back to camp.’ jae says, before he grabs his phone out of his pocket with one hand, using his other hand to wrap around your waist, pulling into his arms.

‘i’ve got her. we’re heading back now, we might need first aid.’ he says, as you look up at him. can you believe you just kissed him? his lips were just on yours. holy shit.

‘please be careful. i’m not letting you go out alone again.’ jae repeats, as you both venture out into the rain and wind.

‘if it wasn’t raining then i would have been perfectly fine.’ you argue.

‘but it is raining and it is windy.’ jae answers back and you roll your eyes. concentrating on walking back as jae slips his hand into yours.

this was nothing new to you, he seemed to do this a lot, but something about this time it seemed so much more reassuring and comforting. you state at your intertwined hands before looking up at him.

jae began to rush a bit as he noticed you shivering slightly. as soon as he could he would make you his girlfriend, but he wanted to prioritise making sure you’re fine.

it began to rain even harder as you enter the canteen. despite the peaceful jog-walk you’d just had with jae, your legs were still covered in mud and your were completely drenched, jae not far off being drenched as well.

‘_______!’ the kids scream all running towards you. you smile at them, trying to convince them that your head isn’t all over the place.

‘here! this is for you.’ you answer, pulling the teddy bear out of the inside of your coat, and placing it in haejin a petite hands.

‘thank you!’ she squeals then begins to tell her teddy bear off for ‘wondering away.’

‘_______, are you okay?’ jihyo says, she seemed concerned as chan distracted the kids with a crappy scooby-doo movie.

'i'm fine, just a bit cold.' you answer, jae raising his eyebrow at you.

'i'll call siwon, tell him you need to take the afternoon off.' jihyo says.

'i'm completely fine. i promise you.' the thought of siwon, your boss, finding out you were injured for such stupid reason made you anxious.

before you can detest anymore, jihyo is across the room on the phone and jae is trying convince you that you need the rest of today off, plus it's only a few hours.

'siwon is coming now.' jihyo says and you grab jaes hands, fiddling with his fingers, a habit you had acquired after numerous movie night with the kids,meal times, quiz nights etc.

'you're basically siwons favourite leader ________, i'm sure he'll be more concerned than mad.' jihyo tells you and you shake your head.

[♫] young and beautiful by lana del rey

vii —'he's my sun, he makes me shine, like diamonds.' young and beautiful by lana del rey

as suspected, siwon was completely worried and not the tiniest bit mad. he understood why you went into the woods and reassured you, much to jaes dislike, that he would do the same.

'take the next few hours off, come back around 7 for dinner, alright?' siwon says. 'and also it was about time you two dated.' his eyes flicker to your hands and you blush deeply and jae laughs.

'make sure to look after her please jae. jihyo, are you and chan okay with watching the bear-cubs, i'll happily stay as well.' siwon asks. 'jae, go and take _______ to get cleaned up.'

there was a mutual element of trust between jae, siwon and you. siwon knew you were best friends, as you both had been when he was a camp leader for you, he knows you two very well and knows that you both care for eachother deeply.

jae nods and instantly you're both rushing to the girls cabin, where you let jae in. he'd been in here millions of times before, there was no ban on girl leaders and boy leaders being in eachothers rooms as siwon knew you wouldn't doing dirty things at a place like this.

'first shower and clean all the mud off your legs,' jae instructs, placing himself down on the bed. you obeyed, grabbing some new clothes out of your wardrobe.

after fourty minutes, you'd successfully showered, gotten changed and refreshed. now jae was concerned about the developing bruise on your leg.

'what am i gonna do with you,' he sighs.

'it doesn't hurt, just let it be for a bit.' you says and he nods his head. 'so uh.'

'hmm?' he says, looking at you. barefaced you looked so incredibly beautiful and jae just wanted to make sure you knew.

'the kiss...' you start.

'i meant it. i obviously wanted to do it in a more romantic situation but, i just had the overwhelming feeling when i saw you there.' he brings to ramble.

'it was perfect jae.' you tell him, you were afraid he meant have regretted it or not meant it.

he signals for you to come over to him and you stand between his legs as he continues to talk. he doubts whether it was really perfect, i mean you were in the middle of the storm, freezing your asses off.

'we have three more hours right? we can take my car and go to town.' he suggests. you nod before he slings the key out of his pocket. 'we're gonna have to be quick, they might catch us.'

[♫] what you know by two door cinema club (i 100% recommend you listen to this whilst you read this part)

viii —'and i can tell just what you want, you don't want to be alone.' 

quickly, you scan the outside, the rain had died down slightly and resorted to a wet drizzle, the sun now beginning to shine, there was no one in sight as you closed the door behind you both.

before you can process what's happening, jae is grabbing your hand and you're both running to the staff car park.

once you spot his car, he's unlocked it and you're both sliding in to your seats before buckling your seatbelts and jae steps on the gas, zooming out of the car park.

'lets get it!' he shouts, as you shake your head in shame.

switching on the radio, you both laugh and talk as jae's hand sits comfortably on your thigh. everything was perfect, you were laughing and joking around, driving in the now emerging sunshine, jaes hand resting with your hand on top of his comfortably.

when you began to approach the town, which was just around the lake, jae pulled over by the side of the lake. it was exceptionally beautiful now, the storm had passed and left a glare on everything, that caught the light often and made you admire it.

'so,' jae says, as you make your way around the car and to his side, where he's closest to the shore. he brings his arms tightly around your waist, as yours find their way to his shoulders.

'this seems like a nicer place, to ask you to be my girlfriend.' he laughs lightly and you smile, heat rising into your cheeks. 'so, _______, will you be my girlfriend?'

'of course.' you reply, a smile dancing on your lips. you pull his head down so your lips can meet his.

this kiss had x1000 more feelings than the one before, every inch of love that's been trapped inside is finally free and swirling around the both of you.

jae feels like he's on cloud 9, your lips are so soft, and taste like cherries. he feels complete, every time he didn't kiss you feels like this kiss has made up for it.

once you pull away, to breathe, jae laughs lightly.

'i've liked you for so long but, i didn't think you liked me back.' you start, as he kisses your cheek, he kisses everywhere he's wanted to. your cheek, your jawline, your neck, your nose.

'how long?' he says, pulling away from a particularly long kiss on your neck.

'since we started leader training, last year.' you finished, your hands running through his hair.

'so, i could've kissed you a whole year ago?' he says, almost in disbelief.

'you could've.' you say, laughing lightly.

'well, i wish i told you earlier.' he sighs, 'but, i'm gonna make up for all the missed kisses now.'

the next three hours were full of laughs, kisses and visiting all the places in town that you'd never seen before.

[♫]apocalypse by cigarettes after sex

xi

—'your lips, my lips, apocalypse.' 

as it approached 6:45, you both got back into the car after having the best time of your lives. the sun shone peacefully, as you drove back to camp.

you peered out of the window, admiring the view of the lake as the sun reflected on it perfectly. jaes hand was securely on your thigh, as you both sing the lyrics to the song on the radio.

finally you make it back to camp, parking the car and both getting out. jae leans against the car watching you as you get out, admiring all your features.

you both enter camp, incredibly happy and excited to see the ten kids that you left with jihyo, siwon and chan.

as you enter the canteen, all eyes are on you both, before haejin, the youngest, shouts.

'______! jae!' she squeals getting out of her seat and running toward you both whilst the other nine all do the same. you smile before accepting the smallest into your arms.

'i missed you so much!' she says, as she shows a cute little pout. the canteen has gone back to its normal level of chatter.

'we were only gone for a few hours.' you say.

'the most boring few hours of my life.' one of the boys adds. both of you laugh before you scoop haejin into your arms, jae in front of you talking to the eldest boy and girl.

'i did it.' jae said to the two.

'finally!' they cheer, as all the kids sit down on the table. jae sitting opposite you as you sit with haejin on one side of you, eunsol on the other side.

the table erupts into chatter, the kids expressing their disgust to the boring few hours.

'well, tomorrow we'll do something so fun that it'll make you forget about your afternoon.' you suggest and they all reply enthusiastic responses.

'we're gonna go and grab our food, are you guys ok here?' jae asks and they all nod, most of them busy eating whilst the others talk about playing games.

you both go up to the counter, where the rest of the leaders are getting served.

'______, is that a..' yukhei starts, a hint of sarcasm on his voice. 'a vampire bite?'

confused you look to where he's pointing, and a purple mark is on your neck. jae giggles lightly as the other leaders start to jump on the joke, jae now getting food for the both of you.

'hmm, jae? what do you think? it could be a spider bite.' lisa suggests and you shake your head, pulling your hair to cover the hickey.

jae comes up behind you, wrapping one hand around your waist, 'i don't know? i don't think i spider bite would look like that.' he continues on with the joke. the leaders all laugh before scurrying off to their tables.

'what if one of the little ones saw this?' you whisper and you walk back to the table, his hand still around your waist as he'd already put the food on the table earlier.

'it's a mosquito bite as far as they're concerned.' he whispers back, as you reach the table and sit in your seat.

[♫] wonderwall by oasis

x —'hot summer nights, mid-july, when you and i were forever wild.' 

two weeks had passed, the best summer of your life so far was almost done. you couldn't help but pout as you walked with your group to the bonfire.

this was the annual bonfire, it had been happening ever since jae and you had been coming here at five years old.

'hey! why do you look so pouty?' one of the boys said, making jae, who was just in front of you, guitar in his back and his hand in haejins, turn around to you.

'it's just sad because, you guys leave tomorrow and i'll miss you all.' you say, looking at them. you'd gotten really close to the ten kids and hate to admit that it's going to be quiet and boring without them.

'we'll come back for the halloween and easter and next summer!' eunsol tells you and you laugh, nodding.

as you found your area around the campfire, all the kids settled down, you and jae sitting beside them.

the bonfire was regulated by siwon, leeteuk and donghae. the five different groups had areas to sit in, purely so that the kids didn't get hurt by running around wildly between seats.

jae cheekily slipped his arm around your waist as you hummed in content, feeling the warmth of the fire in your face.

'you're beautiful.' he says to you and immediately a deep red blush had spread across your cheeks.

'you guys are so cute.' yeri cooed, disturbing the small moment. nervously, you pull your hair behind your ear.

jae stayed cuddled to your side whilst siwon and the rest of the supreme leaders did their speeches, highlighted the best and worst moments of this summer.

'now, jae and brian.' siwon turns around, and everyone's attention is turned to the two of you as well as some diverted to brian. 'are gonna play guitar.'

'right, yeah.' he giggles almost nervously but excitedly as he grabs his guitar.

'think of some songs guys.' siwon says as you move out of jaes way. jihyo calling you over to them as the bonfire had died down and the kids were aloud to move areas.

'i'm going over to jihyo, ok?' you tell jae.

'ok babe.' he answers as he works on tuning his guitar. he looks up at you, pouting his lips and you give him a quick kiss before running over to jihyo.

'he loves you so much.' jihyo starts, as haejin finds her way onto your lap, obviously sleepy.

'i do as well.' you answer as you glance over at jae, to find him already looking over you, then winking at you before talking to chan and brian who were sitting next to him.

'i'm gonna request wonderwall.' she says.

'oh yeah, that's a good one.' you say as you try to brainstorm for songs.

almost fifteen minutes later, a song had finally been decided and it was jihyos suggestion.

you watched closely, as jae concentrated on his guitar, his glasses slipping down his nose slightly as the fire highlighted his features perfectly.

'five, six, seven, eight.' brian said before they both began to play their guitars. as soon as jae began to sing you felt like you were in heaven.

his voice was perfectly smooth and sexy, you felt amazed not only by your boyfriends voice but how easily he could harmonise with brian.

i don't believe that anybody, feels the way i do about you now

he sung so effortlessly, your eyes locked with his as the words left his lips. as they glided into the chorus, everyone began to sing with them however, jaes eye only went between you and the guitar throughout the whole song.

you're gonna be the one that saves me

the song finishes, everyone cheering and clapping before edging them on to perform more.

as they began to sing do i wanna know? haejin falls asleep against your chest and you coo at the sight as jihyo giggles as well.

'she's so cute, oh my god.' jihyo gushes, as some of the campers begin to sing along with your boyfriend and brian.

when you turn to look at jae, his eyes are already glued to you, as you mouth to him 'she's fallen asleep' and he awes at her as well.

after forty-five minutes of singing songs and enjoying your last night together, it comes to an end. as much as he hated to admit it, you'd only been sitting across from him but he felt like he wanted you by his side the entire time.

'she's so cute.' jae says, as you carry haejin back to the huts, the other nine all tiredly dotted around you all.

this was by far jaes favourite combination, you, the love of his life and a small cute, sleeping child. it made him so incredibly soft, and excited for the future, even if it was too early to say.

after fifteen minutes, you'd successfully gotten the five girls into bed and you were waiting outside the hut on the wooden railing, for jae to emerge from the boys hut.

'ah! finally, i have you all to myself.' he says, standing between your legs and kissing you sweetly.

'you were amazing tonight.' you tell him as you jump down from the railing, taking his hand in yours and wondering back to your huts. 'you should sing more.'

'i'm really gonna miss the kids.' jae sighs and you agree, leaning into him as he slides his arm around your waist, letting his hand sit in your back pocket. 'i've had the best summer yet.'

'me too.' you answer, 'but hey. let's not get all sad now, we've got the rest of this year to be here, kids or not.'

'we're moving into a hut together, right?' he asks. when the kids all left tomorrow all the huts could be moved around and lived in until they returned in october.

'is this your way of asking me to move in with you?' you laugh lightly. 'it's only been two weeks.' you shimmy away from his embrace purposely, to tease him. you begin to skip off ahead of him.

'it might as well be a year and two weeks.' he mutters, before running after you and bringing his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 'we'll move in then move out in october, it'll be fun.'

'right. and siwon will have nothing to say about it?' you ask, turning around in his arms, as you bring your hands to side of his face, drawing your fingertips along his cheek.

'shut up, you know he won't. you're literally his favourite leader, if anyone else had gone out into the woods that day, they'd get in so much trouble. but, because it was you, you didn't.'

'you're annoying.' you tell him, bringing his head down so you could kiss him.

'i know.' he giggles, before reconnecting your lips.  this was your happy place, being with jae at the place that you loved.

nothing beat this summer, and you doubt another will however, as long as you had jae you knew you were going to have the best time.

'thank you for the best summer yet.' you tell him and he smiles, looking at you in complete adoration.

'wouldn't be the best without you.' he finished before reconnecting you lips again.

#day6 #day6 au #jae #park jaehyung #park jae #jae day6 #jae au #jae scenario #jae x reader #jae x fem reader #camp #camping au #camp leader #day6 scenario #day6 imagine #jae imagine #fanfiction #summer camp #brian #youngk #younghyun #sungjin #wonpil #dowoon #jyp #chan #jihyo #baekhyun #like #scenario

[libraryscarf]

here is the piece i wrote for the @womenmadefullmetal zine, which i was profoundly honored to be included in! please check out their tumblr to see all the amazing art and writing that went into this project. i was asked to write about my best girl, winry, and i’m so excited to share this fic with you guys. <3

turning home

( ao3 / ff.net )

The Rockbell women have always breathed smoke, her grandmother tells her, not long after her parents die, but not soon either. We’re furnaces, you and me, she says. Anything that tries to go through us will need to melt.

Winry tries to swallow the lump of black metal in her throat. It sinks into her stomach, distending her insides, like the stretched belly of a snake after devouring a rabbit. That darkness will dissolve eventually, worn away by the passing years and the Resembool sunlight. But fragments of it will float in her system always, pulsing now and then with the heartbeat of loss. It will coat her lungs with iron. It will spike her blood with steel. It will surface in the blisters on her palms, toughening them like hide.

Winry learns at a young age that grief can serve her, both as her burden and as her armor.

: : :

“You shouldn’t be checking in so often. I’m fine. And even if I weren’t, Den knows who to fetch if I need help.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you calling, child?!”

“Well...I thought you might appreciate an update on how I’m doing.”

“Winry. You don’t think I have my own connections in Rush Valley? I’ve known how you were doing the moment you set foot in that wretched city.”

Winry smiles. The anxious bite in her grandmother’s voice hints that Pinako hasn’t been quite as collected as she likes to profess.

“Several people here have told me stories about you.”

“Of course they have. I’m a legend.”

“So you did attach automail fingers to Mrs. Wheeler’s foot instead of toes.”

“Who told you that?!”

“Mrs. Wheeler. And Mr. Wheeler. And Mr. Garfiel. And--”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. She thanked me later. Made it easier for her to pick things up.”

Pinako’s laughter crackles over the line, and Winry joins her. If they were together, sharing this evening as they have countless others in that yellow house, she would see the spidery lines around her grandmother’s mouth smooth away, and Pinako would resemble the woman of so many years ago, her eyes bright as beads of mercury.

: : :

She sits on the wide windowsill of her room, one leg swinging over the shoe-beaten, dusty street outside Atelier Garfiel. The workshop is humid, ripe with male armpits whose owners are always traipsing in.

Heat rises from the ground in shimmering waves, and she pulls in a long breath. The air tastes like the burnished insides of a forge; the sun prickles in a glittering sky. Yesterday one of her clients had cracked an egg onto his metal knee to the delight of six local children. The sun above reminds Winry of the yolk: a perfect golden disc surrounded by sizzling white.

She loves it here. It isn’t the same love she feels for the sweeping countryside where she was born, a slow, soft thing layered with complications of old sorrow.

The love she harbors for Rush Valley is quicksilver and octane, a rush of searing air, a keen and yellow energy that wakes in her muscles each morning and blasts wild through her dreams each night. It is a rough town that Winry loves, but it fits her roughened parts, and Rush Valley loves her back.

: : :

“I’m happy you’re settled in. Tell the others hello from me.”

“Mei already said hi when she heard I was calling. Zampano and Jerso, too. Oh, and Ling suggested bringing you here to serve as the official court mechanic. They’ve apparently never had one before, but he said you could name your price.”

Winry’s grin stretches across her face. That sounds so like something Ling would suggest that she can nearly hear it in his voice.

“And Lan Fan’s thoughts?”

“She admires your work, but doubts you’d want to relocate so far just to take care of her arm.”

Winry’s fingers skim the pocked surface of the worktable. She knows every divot, every chip and scar, as though they’re carved in her own skin.

“I’d like to visit Xing,” she admits.

“There’s a lot of murmuring about a railroad across the desert. Goodness knows how long that’ll take—but then you and Granny could both come.”

His voice has changed, even since they last saw each other. Winry presses a knuckle to her mouth, her eyes stinging.

“Will you be happy there?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

“...Winry?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

She chews her thumbnail, cursing her stupid throat for closing up.

“Don’t be stupid, Al. I’ve no idea what you mean.”

: : :

Wandering down the uneven rows, Winry’s eyes skim the names. She halts in front of two close-set stones, where others have left tokens. Her eyes fall on a wilting sprig of sweet violets and yellow honeysuckle.

She sinks cross-legged to the ground between the graves, her back and knees complaining after so many long nights of work. The violets’ brittle stems crumble under her fingers into fine gray dust.

Her father had adored sweet violets, Winry remembers suddenly. He had yelled in delight upon finding the first clumps of them in the spring, when winter still bared its teeth in the frigid midnights and ghosted the mornings with frost. He would gather handfuls, stuffing his nose into the velvet purple blossoms. Winry’s mother laughed often and openly, but never was it filled with more delight than when her husband doubled over, possessed by a fit of uncontrollable sneezing.

A warm drop slips down her cheek, and she swipes at it viciously. Another drop splashes onto the end of her nose. Then the sky opens, unleashing a violent spring tempest that sends Winry sprinting for cover. The overhang of the groundskeeper’s shed provides the closest thing to shelter and she crowds herself under it, blinking the lukewarm rain out of her eyes.

In her haste to escape the storm, she hardly notices the soft grit of the disintegrating violets in her hand. Following a vague impulse, she holds them up to her nose, inhaling their powdery, dying sweetness.

Then she sneezes.

: : :

“Hey, you actually picked up.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Winry’s voice is sharp, camouflaging the way her entire body melts at hearing his voice. A voice that is safe, and healthy, and--as usual--a bit too loud.

“Jeez. Is this a bad time?”

A telling pause.

“Are you crying?”

“No!!”

Her head feels like someone has packed it with wet paper. Ed chuckles ruefully.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” Her “m” s and “n” s are migrating toward “b” and “d” territory.

“You sound awful.”

“Right, I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, okay! Sorry!”

Slowly, Winry puts her ear to the phone again. And then sneezes on it.

“Maybe...a tiny bit sick,” she admits.

“Stop pulling all-nighters.”

“I don’t have an all-nighter to blame for this. And don’t tell me what to do.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ed says, half-laughing.

The line crackles as he sighs. “You had to take care of me so much. I feel kinda guilty.”

“You were an extremely bad-tempered patient.”

“Well your bedside manner isn’t exactly welcoming!”

Winry hears the veins popping in his neck and forehead. Ed communicates everything of himself through his voice. He could so easily be sitting across from her.

She closes her eyes and imagines he is.

“You know I didn’t really mind,” she says.

A sheepish grunt from Ed’s side. “Is that because you got to boss me around and tell me what to eat and when to sleep?”

“That... was a contributing factor.”

“I knew it!” he crows victoriously. “You’re sadistic. Sick with power.”

“So was that your backwards way of saying, ‘Winry, I’m so sorry I’m not there to nurse you back to health and make up for all the times I was a stubborn jerk’?”

The pause before his answer is just long enough to worry her.

“It would take a hell of a lot more to make up for that.”

Winry’s smile evaporates, her heart twisting.

“Ed...”

“What? I can’t be sincere for a second?”

“It’s not that . I…I just--”

His laugh interrupts her. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you, Winry. You never have.”

“It might be nice, though,” she mumbles. “Once in a while.”

“Consider the hint taken.”

Her chest expands with relief, a warm wave lifting her on its crest.

“Come home soon.”

Ed hesitates. She is hard to lie to, and if he’s smart, he won’t try.

“I’ll hurry.”

Winry believes him.

: : :

When her head aches and her hands are chapped, Winry walks up the hill to the big tree, where an aged swing creaks against its ropes. The valley flows away from her feet in green, rolling swells.

Her mind is busy, though her hands are not.

She thinks of her newest customer: a girl, no older than Ed when he had his surgery, her right hand missing from a farm mishap. Winry had reassured her that with automail, she could still play her fiddle.

She thinks of how Ed mentioned over breakfast how nice a house would look, there at the top of the hill where the foundation of a burned building still lies.

She thinks of Al’s recent visit, when he brought silk and tea and bright, human laughter across the desert.

She thinks of how her daughter reminds her in a thousand half-painful ways of Pinako, asleep now next to her own children.

She thinks of the countless small responsibilities waiting for her at home: an electric motor to tune up, a bruise to kiss and bandage, a shipment invoice to file, a long-overdue call to Paninya, a pie crust to bake.

Winry listens to the birds talking in the branches high above her. She smiles.

Then she turns down the hill, beginning the walk back home.

#scarfwrites #fma fanfiction #fma #women made fullmetal

[yaachtynoboat711]

Fonder 5.2

A/N: So this is obvi a follow-up of Ch.5 as well as its conclusion. Hopefully, the plot won’t be as shook up as it was in 5.1 or will it? I hope y’all enjoy.

Word Count: little over 3K

Warning(s): Plot progression, fluff, specks of angst(?)

NEW YEARS DAY 2015, 11:47 A.M, Malibu, California NEW YEARS DAY 2015, 11:47 A.M, Malibu, California

Peace and serenity—the most fitting way to transition into the New Year. The overlapping sounds of seagulls and crashing ocean waves outside would usually pull Yaa out of her deep slumbers. If it wasn’t the beach sounds, then it was her actual alarm. But let’s be honest: no one really has an alarm go off on New Year’s day, especially if you had the night that Yaa had had. Yaa’s snoring went in sync with the crashing waves and her wavy, honey blonde locs scattered at every which way across the silk taupe pillow case. Boom boom boom. The heavy knocking on her bedroom had startled her out of her post-sex slumber. Who was banging on her door like the feds before noon? The trio of knocks continued until she reluctantly got out of bed and searched for anything to put on.

“I’m comin’...damn!”, she tried to yell, but her hoarseness wouldn’t allow her. She winced in pain as she hopped into a pair of shorts and a tank top and began limping towards the door. She opened the door to see that it was her best friend, Tanisha. “Bitch...somebody better be dead, hurt, or dying.”

Tanisha chuckled. “Well, Happy New Year to you, too. Lover Boy is down there making brunch.”

Yaa looked at her friend in total confusion. “Is that what I’m smelling? Tanisha nodded. “Well, I’m surprised you aren’t somewhere fighting a hangover.”

Tanisha rolled her eyes. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Between you gettin’ your cervix tickled, and trust me, it sounded like he was giving’ you the BUSINESS, and me throwing my night up, I was going through it. Started the new year off on the wrong foot.”

Yaa felt herself turning red and her eyes bugging out. “Were we really that loud?”

“Sis, he might’ve worn you out, but you must have that voodoo pussy. Wanna know why? You got Michael B. Jordan in your kitchen cooking yo magical pussy having ass a 5-star brunch on New Year’s day. If that ain’t power, then I don’t know what the hell is. Done turned this nigga into a damn domestic overnight. Speaking of, text me when breakfast is ready. I deserve whatever he’s whippin’ up.”

Tanisha went back into room, presumably to catch up on her missed Z’s. Yaa went downstairs to see Michael for herself. The further she got down the stairs, the louder the “All About the Benjamins” got. She carefully hopped off the stair landing and Diddy bopped her way through the den, making a slight left to go through the back way into the kitchen.

She pursed her lips to keep from laughing as she watched Michael also Diddy bop back to the stove to finish cooking whatever he had cooking on the stove. Wearing only a pair of heather grey cut-off sweats and Nike slides with socks, his shoulders and upper body bounced to the beginning of Total’s “Can’t You See”. He placed a kitchen towel over his shoulder before plating his brunch creation.

“So what’s on the menu, Mr. Jordan?”, she spooked.

He seized, clenching the small saucepan he had in his grasp. “Shit!”

Yaa chuckled, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help it.”, she stopped to look over his shoulder, “you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Cajun catfish and cheese grits, fruit, and peach bellinis.”

“Oooh shit! Lemme find out the B in your name stands for ‘Brunch Daddy’! I’ll get Tanisha up.”

Yaa called Tanisha from the bottom of the stairs. Tanisha came down moments later. The three sat at the table passing bowls, skillets, and pans to each other. The room was filled with the sounds of clacking plates and satisfied stomachs.

“Who would’ve known Michael B. Jordan was a whole ass chef? I learned something new today.”, remarked Yaa as she sipped her Powerade.

Michael chuckled at Yaa’s comment, “Word? Well, to be honest, if this acting thing didn’t work out, Plan B was being a chef. My mom taught me how to cook and I haven’t looked back since. Now from what I hear, you know how to get down yourself.”

It was hard for Yaa to be humble, but she managed to keep her cool. “I mean, I’m a country girl. Carrie, my maternal grandmother, taught me most of what I know. She and my Rainey raised me and my siblings when my parents were working pretty much around the clock for a few years.”

“How many siblings?”

“2. I have a twin sister, Farrah, that’s fraternal as hell, and a brother, Jahlil, that’s 5 years younger.”

He laughed at her statement about her sister Farrah. “I also have two other siblings--I’m a middle child. An older sister and a younger brother.” Tanisha, the oldest of four, and Yaa both cringed at him being the middle child. “I couldn’t imagine having two sisters though.”

Yaa shot him a look. “Watch it, son.”

He placed his fist in front of his mouth as he chewed. “So, I heard you say you were a country girl, so how country are we talkin’?”

“I was born in Alabama and graduated high school and college in Alabama, but I was raised in a massive mansion in rural Louisiana, so I’m a Louisi-Bama. You’re a Jersey-Cali boy from my understanding?”

He shook his head in the affirmative, impressed with her knowledge about him. “Ok! President of the fan club is showing herself worthy of the title.”

“Boy, don’t get cussed out.”

*****

Missed Call: Maybe: Winny the Pooh

Yaa tapped on the missed call notification without hesitation. She almost forgot they weren’t talking. Immediately after their last exchange, Winston’s number went to the good ole Block List. Something told her to unblock his number the day before leaving for California. So she did and now here she was, returning her ex’s ca—

“Hello?”, Winston answered.

“He-heyyyy you! Happy New Year! I saw you called and I’m just seeing your text.”, Yaa replied. Silence. You could hear a rat piss on carpet.

“Ummm…”, he cleared his throat, “...so you down for lunch?”

“Oof. I just had brunch. How does coffee or tea sound? Bean in Beverly Hills?”

“That’s even better. Meet me at 4ish?”

“Make it 4:30 and we’ve got a deal. See you then!” Click.

*****

Yaa walked out of the bathroom from her shower feeling renewed. Skin washed away of the little makeup that remained on her face from her...celebration from the previous night. Skin glowing thanks to the best shea butter Ghana had to offer. Locs looking healthy as always. Her glow increased when she saw Michael laying in her bed reading his phone but looking up when he sensed her presence. He stopped looking down at his phone to admire the beauty that was Khalida Abdullah.

Even in such a simple task as putting on clothes, Michael could see why her exes were head over heels with her. Every move she made was graceful. From the little twerk she did to get her chub into her light gray yoga capri pants, to the overhead jig to get into her oversized black monogrammed tank top with a gold fleur-de-lis. She walked to his side of the bed to retrieve her new Apple Watch from its charger. Before she could walk towards the door, he snatched her up onto the bed with him, playfully gnawing at her neck.

“Where you goin’ looking all good and delicious for, hmm?”, he implored.

“Well, Kari, I’m meeting someone for coffee. It ain’t your business who gon’ be there, either.”, she answered with sass.

“I see. Secondly, who gave you this trash ass Saints shirt? I need to get you at least two Falcons shirts.”

She escaped from his grip and returned a sour look. A record scratched in her head. “I-I-I’m sorry. I SLEPT WITH A FUCKING FALCONS FAN?! MY FAMILY RAISED ME BETTER THAN THIS!”

“Oh, you some super fan or something?”, he questioned.

“I’m surprised Tanisha didn’t tell you. Have you know, one, my family holds minority stake in the organization, making us minority owners, and two, my first boyfriend and best friend to this day is a proud SUPER BOWL-WINNING Saint. Now if you excuse me, I have to rush to my meeting and go reclaim my dignity.”,she bragged as she walked out of the door. But before she could walk out of door, she poked her head through the door and flipped him off.

“You so fucking CHILDISH, Khalida!”

BEAN BEVERLY HILLS, 2:19 P.M.

Yaa had accomplished many things in her life, from graduating college at 18 to receiving 4 degrees before turning 25, but nothing was as nerve-wrecking as meeting up with Winston. Let’s face it: their last meeting left such a distaste in her mouth.

Her left Chaco tapped softly yet persistently against the dark hardwood floors, while the right rested underneath her bottom.With one hand rested against her warm cup of honey-sweetened hibiscus tea and the other texting Tanisha for guidance into this awaited meeting, she attempted to clear her mind of the past and concern herself with the future. Would he be on that bullshit again? Will I have to smack a bitch? Has he decided to grow up? Does he look dusty? She looked out of the window and zoned out as she watched Beverly Hills slowly wake up after the wild night everyone had.

“Khalida?”, Winston called loud enough to pull his ex-girlfriend out of her daze. She shook her head and looked up to lock eyes with her former lover.

“Hey, hey!”, she greeted. She slowly got up and limped two steps to hug him. It was almost like they’d never skipped a beat. For a moment in time, it felt like they were the only people in the coffee shop, which if you exclude the employees and maybe three other people scattered around the shop, they were. Bitch, get offa him. He spazzed on you, remember?

Immediately upon having the thought, she separated from him and she gestured for him to sit. “So, I might’ve ordered a blueberry scone or two for you. I’m pretty sure you’ve put yourself on some depressing ass diet, but treat yourself.” Almost if on cue, the barista placed a small pink box in front of Winston, along with a caramel latte.

“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.”, Winston acknowledged. The two shared a nervous laugh and got themselves comfortable in their seats. The tension between could have been cut with a cleaver; so much could’ve been said, after all. The two looked at each in an attempt to find their words.

“I wanna apol-”

“Sorr-”

“You firs-

“No, you fir-”

“Gotdammit! Somebody finna fuckin talk out of sync.”, Yaa finally said by herself. “Guess I’ll start. Lemme cut to the chase—why are we here?” She sipped on her tea as she waited for his answer.

He pondered before speaking, “Well, first, I just want to apologize for acting like...being an ass a few months back. I wasn’t in my right mind in that relationship. Michelle was a nightmare after that night and we broke it off not even a week after our last meeting. I tried to call you, but I’m more than you confident you blocked my number. Hell, I don’t blame you. Now, I called you on a fluke last night and after analyzing what I said and even getting some choice words from my mom, I was wondering if your offer for friendship was still on the table? I messed up twice, and I don’t want to do lose you anymore.”

Yaa looked around the coffee shop and firmly gripped his chin to get a better look at him. “Is this the same Winston that I saw a few months ago? I’m almost afraid to hear the answer.”

WInston grimaced from the pain shooting to his jaw. Though small, Yaa’s hands had strength, or “country strength”, as she called it from years of herding large animals and even people. “Woman, I need to resize your strength.” Winston moved his jaw from her grip and moved it from side to side to alleviate the pain. “If we’re being transparent, I cried just about every night thinking about how I treated you when we broke up. I’m pretty sure I’m the biggest idiot for allowing a woman such as yourself to walk out twice. At this point, I just want us to be back on good terms.”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Winston. Are you sure? Is this what you truly want?”

“Yes. I just miss you. Aside from the romantic aspect, I just miss the little things, like your random calls in the middle of the day about some tea you just got, your spirit, and even getting cursed out by you.” Poor Winston. Though she knew his sincerity, Yaa found it hard to believe his sap story. If he could help it, he would’ve been on his knees pleading for a second chance.

Yaa’s face was unreadable—stoic, yet unreadable. It was a face that was over apologies and all for corrected behavior. A face that was finding itself conflicted with two men. Deep down, she wanted to be back with Winston. After all, he was her true love. But true love is tested. The plane needed to be taken apart, diagnosed, and rebuilt in order for it to be cleared for service. Everything was sounding good, too good to be believed without doubt. Yet, she still felt the urge to suplex Winston for crumbling her heart and her feelings back in June.

Khalida sipped the rest of her tea before breaking the painful silence built between her and her pitiful ex, “Do you want me?”

“What? Of course, Khalida! What are you talking about?”, Winston replied confused and taken aback from the question. Khalida chuckled—shoulders and all—as she nodded her head.

“No,no, no, baby boy. Do you want me? As in a your lifelong partner, forever and always? Not just in the physical or in lust, but as your better half, trusted confidant, your No Limit Soldier, ya yeah wit da yeah? How we should be instead of how we used to be?”

Winston paused to word his answer, “...Yes. You shouldn’t even have to ask me that question.”

“Well, if you want me, then you have to earn me.”

“Obviously, Olivia Pope, but you make it seem easier said than done. How do I earn you back?”

“Stick with me for a moment. You remember that plane analogy I used in Louisiana?” He nodded. “Aight, so boom: right now, the plane is completely outta service, y’eardme? The best way to have it back in service is to completely dismember the plane—start from scratch. Next, we gotta find the parts of the plane that caused the malfunction. We get better parts and rebuild, bit by bit. Soon, we’ll have an improved plane that’s better than the old plane. The crew’s gotten more experience, been with other pilots and co-pilots, and next inspection, the plane will be ready for service. It’s not an overnight process, but we’ll get through it. So...are you in?”

Winston offer his hand to shake on the new agreement, an offer in which Yaa accepted, along with a hug. “To new beginnings. A clean slate. Let’s start: I’m Winston. You are?”

Yaa snorted, “Khalida,but you can call me Yaa.” They shook hands once more, sharing a laugh. The laugh led to two genuine smiles. Their hearts skipped beats as they saw each other’s smiles.

“So...I’ve been meaning to ask, what or who’s got you glowing like this? There’s only so much Shea butter in the world…”, Winston inquired as he stirred the remainder of his caramel latte.

Yaa’s mind flashed back to nearly 12 hours ago when she was calling God’s name more than Kirk Franklin and the Family. Mental vignettes of Yaa and Michael moaning and the sound of skin slapping flashed throughout her mind, causing her to re-adjust her sitting position in her seat.

“I...I...uh…met someone last night. Everything happened so fast. Once the smoke clears and we establish something or the lack thereof, I’ll tell you more about him.”, Yaa stopped herself from turning flush.

While he smiled, Winston felt a small part of him die, but he realized that it was only fair that she get her shot of a relationship. But he knew her and the person she was—she was the prototype. Any man or woman would be stupid to not fall for her in some way. His smile widened as he locked eyes with her. Oh, how he’d missed that look.

The two began catching up about life beyond the romantic aspect. The basic “how ya momma nem?” conversations. After that, they walked about of the coffee shop, but not before he helped her out of her stiffened position from the seat. They hugged once more before going their separate ways. Not even 10 feet away, he turned to speak again. “I’m sorry.”

“You just apologized like 20 minutes ago, moe.”, Yaa yelled.

“No.”, he closed the distance between them, “I’m sorry for not knowing how to be a decent boyfriend to you. You’re a special woman with who needs a special man in her life. I know I’m that man, but just not right now. Whoever he or she is that you met last night, I hope they understood that the moment they laid eyes on you and plan accordingly. I wish I did when I met you. Sorry...I just needed to get that off of my chest.” By this time, his large hands enrobed her small hands and he hadn’t realized it. When he did, he promptly removed them.

“It’s ok, love. Today was fun. I gotta bounce, but be safe and have a happy new year.” She walked to her rental Prius and honked at him as she passed him.

He chuckled to himself as he walked to his car, “Oh, I will, Dr. Duke, I will.”

MY LIST, MY LIST, BETTER THAN YO LIST!!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @oceanscorazon @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @thememoireeofme @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @ljstraightnochaser @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#thefonderseries #winston x yaa #winston duke imagine #dukeandthedoctor #winston duke x oc

[ammapreker]

CELIA ST. CLEMENT 19 / theater actress

[ content warning for alcoholism ]

an inescapable need for more ∘ blurry memories ∘ waking up inexplicably bruised ∘ forgetting yesterday ∘ tangled limbs ∘ stage lights spilling across an empty stage ∘ crumbling flower petals ∘ shakespeare’s words caressing careful tongues ∘ empty wine bottles rolling against hardwood floors » a dramatic creature with a mercurial temperament / some days, her jovial moods can conjure only the bright beam she makes herself into; others, the shadows hang closer, shrouding her in darkness / her sister’s mirror image, only just noticing the spidery cracks crawling through the glass / widely considered the dark shadow to clara’s gleaming light, but perhaps it was always the other way around (or, better yet, maybe neither of them could ever have made a claim at innocence) / drowns her traumas in alcohol even before scarlet floods her palms, a symbol of her guilt that can’t be washed away / sobs harden in her throat, echoes of how could we have— silenced roughly before she speaks the final words, makes them real / life, she begins to believe, woozy with alcohol and drugs as her feet drag across a stage, has lost all sense of reality / regret seeps into her bones, flooding her senses until only two artifacts of her former life remain: the flask hidden within her pockets and the lie that keeps them safe—for now.

connections » clara st. clement [twin sister] / shiloh spencer [co-actor]

needs » the rest of the murder crew / theater actors for the shakespeare festival / former (and/or current) lovers / drinking buddies

DAWSON HUGO 35 / songwriter

piano notes spilling from a dark room ∘ whispered temptations ∘ subtle humor ∘ hidden desires ∘ script-filled notebooks ∘ creeping loneliness ∘ a toe stepped carefully over the line ∘ secrets locked behind sealed lips ∘ slipping into the darkening night » a lesson on monetizing the thoughts swirling in his mind, the temptations beating in his heart / a man who came from just above nothing and now has everything he’s ever wanted—or does he? / a former keyboardist in a band that never made it who’s risen on the back of his own penned verses / doesn’t feel pity for the bandmates whose lives he once knew as well as his own, rarely seeing them after their fall / he knows he’s gifted, talented, creative—perhaps too well / even so, he feels safer in the shadows—unremembered by crowds, sought by artists wishing to give voice to his scrawls / a dreamer who plucked his dreams and thrust them into reality before finding they’d lost their glimmer / unsatisfied, and reconciled with it (or so he thinks) / jumps from girl to girl and song to song so often, throwing himself into each before his interest wanes / finds a girl for keeps, or so he thinks until another comes his way / pleas of just this once slowly burning away every line he’s never crossed / he steps, and steps, and steps (he thought he was better than this) / he’s drunk on a girl he shouldn’t be, losing himself to the toxicity / addiction’s never felt so sweet.

connections » birdie barnes [roommate & songwriting partner] / daisy howard [girlfriend]

needs » his former bandmates who may or may not hate him for ending up with a songwriting deal even after they crashed and burned (he was the keyboardist) / a brother who never quite got over living in his shadow / exes he’s fooled around with and inevitably left due to prolonged disinterest / friends in the record industry / friends in general / singers he might have worked with in the past

FRANCESCA MANCINI 21 / croupier

[ content warning for murder, hit & run ]

a bookcase filled with whodunnits ∘ expired contacts littering the trash can ∘ waking to an early dawn ∘ fervent “i told you so”’s ∘ a tendency to over-prepare ∘ stepford smiles finally loosening their grip ∘ a desperation for salvation ∘ crippling paranoia ∘ a sudden recklessness ∘ too smart for your own good » the clever girl gone sour, gone cold, gone fearful / once, she might have convinced herself that the bright future she saw before her could remain as it was—true, pure, incapable of being tarnished by any deed she might commit / (she hadn’t known, then, what she’d be capable of) / one moment, they’d been light as air, flooded with victory; the next, a crash had left them plummeting to the ground with no safety net / they keep the secret, cover their tracks—they know how, after all / she thinks, then, of all the crimes she’s witnessed, solved; what would i have done, she’d wondered, to not get caught / perhaps she’d always known that she’d find herself on the opposing side, another criminal aching to bury her secrets / they don’t bury them deep enough; i know what you did, the letters say, promising retribution with words unspoken / all she can think: what will i do to not get caught. 

connections » ludovica mancini [sister] / audrey astor, luna graves & the rest of mystery inc. [best friends]

needs » scooby doo-inspired request / co-workers for the illegal gambling den she’s currently working undercover at (with plans to expose them) to feel less guilty / exes galore / friends outside of the scooby gang who she’s likely distanced herself from as a result of what happened / literally anything, she’s completely open!

LIAM HANLON 31 / paralegal

[ content warning for death ]

newspaper pages tossed aside in a flurry ∘ clenched jaws ∘ pulsing migraines ∘ eyes glued to a phone screen ∘ a life passing by, unnoticed ∘ grasping to self-assurance as the world collapses into ruins ∘ burnt coffee ∘ time ticking endlessly away on a watch face ∘ brisk strides ∘ this cannot go on » a man consumed with a future that’s not his own / wants and dreams glisten upon the ladder he’s thrust himself upon, certain that the top will provide everything he wants—a name, a position, a surge of support swelling beneath him as he makes his own political strides / if he ever reaches the top; if he ever manages to pull himself from the outskirts of history into its center / currently a paralegal with dreams of a brighter future that’ll never come to fruition / driving himself mad with impatience and jealousy / stares at the ring on his fiancée’s hand and wonders if it would be better to leave, better to break up the monotony with a complete abandonment of his current life / the death of her sister dismantles any actions he might have taken; their inheritance of a two year old with only an aunt left to claim her submits them to mere fantasies never to be made real / the pressure mounts—the baby’s cries, zara’s grief, his mother’s new book—until the cracks begin to show / it’s only a matter of time before he breaks.

connections » zara şensoy [fiancée]

needs » siblings who are equally f*cked up with a mother whose parenting books delved a little too deeply into their childhoods / exes galore / friends. he’s a lot but he needs them / especially friends with children because he somehow has a baby now???

ROSCOE RYAN 21 / student

unquenchable curiosity ∘ obedient tongues ∘ 20/20 peripheral vision ∘ whispers quieting after stepping foot into a room ∘ a diary full of words unspoken ∘ burying a past with dulcet lies ∘ unrelenting pride ∘ a villain casting himself in the role of the observer, nothing more ∘ imminent betrayal » a boy born to trailer parks and unappeasable parents no, let’s rewrite the story, shall we? / a boy born beneath the glistening stars of los angeles (true) with parents unaffected by his presence (true) and consumed by the monotony of their daily lives (true) as heirs to a fortune passed down from his grandfather (lie) / the moment he steps within the bounded gates of ucla, he reinvents himself, sprinkling importance and wealth into a past bereft of both / the collections of photographs that hang upon his walls impress upon the viewer two facts / the first: the frat he’s grown in, thrived in, means everything to him / the second: his life, as he’d prefer it, began three years prior with his steps upon the college lawns / perfection blooms in every scene, every pose, even as whispers threaten to tarnish the gilded legacy he’s built / did you hear? the students gasp amongst each other, their gazes sliding across every boy decked in the letters of sigma chi / the rumors—hazing, terror, oh my god, is he—spread like wildfire / still, the kid won’t speak / still, guilt hovers above them all, awaiting a place to rest.

connections » pierce griffin [fraternity brother] / bambi wheeler [former friend & neighbor]

needs » frat boy crew (request to come!) / miscellaneous hook ups / old trailer park acquaintances he’ll pretend not to know / someone to tell him his frat almost put the blame on him for the hazing incident

SILAS GRAVES 24 / vampire bartender

last night’s glitter clinging to your skin ∘ hollow laughter ∘ cheshire grins ∘ jumping into pools fully clothed ∘ fake blood recipes ∘ coffins are rather comfy, you know ∘ locking memories away ∘ empty wine bottles cluttered around sinks ∘ gathering fog ∘ dark streets slick with rain ∘ sink your teeth in » a boy who glorifies in bringing the traits of the undead into the land of the living / is it all real, or just an act? that’s a secret sealed behind reddened lips, one he’ll take to his grave / you can only guess as rants regarding edward cullen spill between the would-be vampire and his audience, compelled—by curiosity, by magic, who can say?—to listen the dulcet tones of his voice uninhibited by the fangs curling around his teeth / believes himself untouchable, untethered—free / still, his past clings to him, pulling him backwards at every turn even as he crushes the memories that seek to undo him / he’s nothing more than this—a glitter-clad man longing to be a monster known from fables / untouchable, untethered to the reality that everyone else finds themselves bound to / that, there, is true freedom. 

connections » oskar björk [employer] / fleur zhao [being catfished by her]

needs » additional coworkers for the horror bar / exes, currents (flings and flirts) / people for him to argue with about the merits of edward cullen’s popularity amongst vampires / more people for the adoptive graves fam / friends who either embrace or ignore his weirdnesses / literally anything else

SPENCER LINDSAY 23 / con artist

ghosting™ ∘ sharp stilettos clacking on a subway car ∘ longing for a stranger’s touch ∘ swollen lips ∘ empty houses ∘ discarded half-smoked cigarettes ∘ strawberry milkshakes ∘ silent screams ∘ hope lingering just out of reach ∘ a crunch of glass underfoot ∘ never look back » a ghost, haunting the remnants of her former life / past spencer lindsay: beautiful, popular, a bright future gleaming in her eager palms / current spencer lindsay: beautiful, nameless, stolen money and jewelry sparkling against the bright gleam of a street lamp / the division: a fortune nearly lost, a mother’s desperate act, a stepfather’s final breath / her father’s fraud charges and subsequent rush out of the us barely merited a recollection outside her social circle; her mother’s murder trial, however, summoned the attention of los angeles and it held her captive / her mother loses; she disappears in the night—door left open, a broken wine glass scattered in pieces on the living room floor, a closet full of clothes she couldn’t carry with her / no investigation can cease the steady stream of rumors even now—dead, killed, gone / she waits in the wings, knowing she should never have come back, unable to keep herself away.

connections » nicholas hawthorne [ex-boyfriend] / benji wyatt [ex-boyfriend] / chloe valentine [con besties] / willa de witte [former best friend]

needs » the o.c. crew (request coming shortly) / people to steal from / the bling ring crew (request to come!) / exes from her high school days / people to hook up with while she pines away / people she f*cked over back in the day / people she’s f*cking over now / someone who knows her by one of her other aliases and who she may or may not have stolen from (oops) / people who/whose families her dad stole from back in the day who might be holding a grudge

TRISTAN BENNET 22 / runaway

crooked smiles ∘ unspoken desperation ∘ dreams warring against doubt ∘ ripping away old skins ∘ the growing ease of a lie ∘ worn sneakers ∘ festering distrust ∘ crumpled bills stuffed into pockets ∘ rush of adrenaline ∘ being watched ∘ shoes pounding against asphalt » formerly a texas boy, he’s since shed his accent, his history, his very own name—the only truth he’s maintained is his sister / they stole away in the night on the eve of the wedding their parents had forced upon her, giving up their lives as they knew them for a chance at freedom / freedom is: devouring every matt damon and ben affleck movie they can get their hands on, learning the twists of the boston accents they’ve affected; bringing their sister back from the dead as their “connection” to los angeles, forcing their memories of her into the role of hopeful young actress dreaming of the big screen; learning to force smiles upon his lips as nerves eat away at the blessed happiness that had encompassed him upon their escape / it’s terrifying in its splendor, in its ephemerality / he thinks: if they find out. he thinks: they can’t. / spends his nights waking to every footstep outside the motel door and his days jumping at each and every craigslist ad he can get his hands on / the money he’d stolen as a second thought dwindles in his palms and he’s starved for safety, for survival / he thinks: what might i do, for that. 

connections » juliet bennet [sister] / the shakespeare theatre crew [he works part-time backstage]

needs » friends are likely in short supply since he tends to keep himself ~under the radar~, but he should have some anyway / maybe a drug dealer for him to get involved with to make more $$$ / people with some fun craigslist requests for interesting threads / potential make outs now that he’s ~free~ and able to explore his sexuality (he’s a virgin, please be gentle) before he ghosts them

#throwshaderp #m: development #please kill me if i make any more.

[amuseoffyre]

Crossing Paths - 1946 - The Third Circle of Hell

Wherein there are repercussions from the Estrangement and a whole mess of questions go unanswered.

1946 – The Third Circle of Hell

 Crowley’s palms were sweating.

That wasn’t a good sign.

Okay, yeah, he’d kind of… slept through most of the last century, neglected any paperwork or memos to the head office and ignored at least a dozen summons from various demons. Technically he could claim disobedience wasn’t in his remit, but then there was the fact he hadn’t been doing anything for almost eighty years.

That was a big gap of temptation and sin across the world and someone was bound to have noticed, no matter what he had told Aziraphale in the past.

The fact that he’d heard mutters and whispers from the minute he set foot in the first circle didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. Whispers usually meant people talking and down here, people talking was never a good thing.

He squeezed through the flow of traffic, more worried that relieved when people started stepping aside for him, and headed down to the appointed meeting chamber for his long overdue meeting with Lord Beelzebub and the other earth-bound demons.

Definitely didn’t help that he was late.

Ha paused outside the door, straightened his glasses and his coat, then strode in, arms outstretched like a damned saint. “Hell-come home, am I right?” He swept into an extravagant bow. “Lord Beelzebub, my apologies for my tardiness.”

The high Lord of Hell waved a hand. “That will be unnecessary, demon Crowley.”

He almost froze on the spot, but forced himself to straighten up. “Oh?”

“Mm.” Their voice was a hum of the swarm that surrounded them. “Given the circumstancezzzzz, paperwork may be overlooked.”

“Circumstances?” He looked around the room, frantically scanning the faces of the other demons, trying to work out what the mood was meant to be. Good for him? Bad for him? Bad for someone else? Oh, please God, Satan and everyone, it was bad for someone else.

His eyes finally settled on Hastur. The demon was the best barometer. If Crowley was in trouble, it would show on his face, but right now, his face looked more like a slapped arse than usual and Crowley almost sighed in relief.

“The wars.” Beelzebub unfolded from their elaborate chair – never a throne, though. Lucifer wouldn’t like that. “Very impressive.”

“The w– oh. Oh! Yeah!” He hooked his thumbs into his belt and grinned as widely as he could, hoping the lies weren’t reeking on his every word. “Yeah. Well. You know humans. Give them an inch and they’ll do a mile with a bit of encouragement.”

“Our Master was very pleazzzed with you.”

“Oh.” The smile faltered a bit. “Goodie.” He hesitated then carefully said, “And before the wars, I wasn’t exactly…”

“Managing a great deal of corruption in London,” Beelzebub said. “We know it izzzz rare for you to focus on single souls, but these ones were tempted well.”

“In London?” Crowley squinted at them. “Oh, yeah. London. I mean, we all know London’s the place to go if you want to start something like that. Den of sin and iniquity, whores and… all that stuff, yeah.”

“And it spread,” Hastur said grudgingly. He sounded like he wanted to swallow his own tongue. “There was even mention of it in the American colonies.”

“They prefer the United States these days,” Crowley put in helpfully, still baffled. Every demon in Hell knew London was his jurisdiction, but someone had been tempting people while he was arse in the air under his blankets? He would’ve known about it. Would’ve felt it, surely? “If you don’t mind me asking, what was so special about those ones? I mean, it was a nice change of pace, but didn’t think it was going all that well.”

Beelzebub grinned, showing their dark, rotting teeth. “Your encouragement to lust and envy were particularly well done.”

Lust and envy?

Crowley was definitely out of his depth. Possibly without a paddle. There were no metaphors for exactly how bewildered he was. Lust wasn’t one of his big go-to temptations. Too easy, for one thing, and he wasn’t really one to see what humans might lust after beyond some random part of the anatomy. Mind you, there was that one time he made that one man go gaga for someone’s eyeballs. Ended up a bit messier than expected.

Instead, he just bowed again with a bit of extra hand-waving. “Glad to have been of such great service, my Lord.”

 ________________________________________

 “Angel?”

Aziraphale finished pouring the wine before he looked up. “Hm?”

Crowley was sprawled on the horsehair couch, a vague, puzzled look on his face. “You know when we– I mean, a few years back… mid-century… did you do any of my work?”

Even though they were back on speaking terms now, the thought of that awful period when they were not made Aziraphale’s heart clench. “I’m afraid not,” he said, offering Crowley one of the glasses. “I assumed you were doing your work and I was doing mine and that was the end of the matter.”

A flicker of some emotion Aziraphale could not decipher flashed across Crowley’s face and as ashamed as he was to do so, he reached out and felt the tenor of guilt.

“You… were doing your duties?”

Crowley winced, swaying a little from side to side. That was never a good sign, his most serpentine aspects emerging when he was anxious. “Not… exactly.”

Aziraphale stared at him, then sank down into his chair. Heaven would have come down upon him like the wrath of God if he had failed in his duty. He could only imagine how much worse Crowley’s managers would be. “Oh no.” He took a fortifying sip of his wine, swallowing hard around it. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing?”

The word was muffled by the glass at Crowley’s mouth.

“What was that?”

“Sleeping! I was sleeping, all right? I went home and I drank six crates of wine and slept.”

“For eight decades?” Aziraphale laughed in disbelief, but it faded when Crowley didn’t laugh too.

The demon’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Yeah.” He shrugged a bit. “Didn’t have anything to get up for, did I?”

It felt as if all the air had left the room. “Oh, Crowley…”

Crowley flapped a hand. “Don’t start! I’m up now. See? In your shop, drinking your wine.” He gave the glass a shake, the wine swirling. “Nothing to worry about.”

He was trying to hide behind the familiar bluster and show, but Aziraphale could remember their last conversation before their disagreement. It had been far more desperate than he realised. For Crowley to do that, to close himself away…

And on top of it all, he had left his work undone!

“Oh!” A horrifying thought stabbed at him. “Oh, my dear, you’re not in… trouble, are you? With your people? I mean, if you haven’t been meeting your quotas, I don’t imagine they’re best pleased.”

Crowley hooked a finger around his glasses, pulling them off and peering at them. “Funny thing,” he said, frowning. “They seem to think I was keeping on top of everything.” He laughed shortly, puzzled. “’Parently they think I had something to do with the wars.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to tartly point out that he probably had when the eight-decade-sleeping crept back into his mind. That wasn’t something Crowley would joke about, not when things were still so tenuous between them. “They don’t know?”

Crowley shook his head moodily. “And,” he added, “turns out I’ve been sending out lust and envy all over the place. Said I’d gone and focussed on a few people and nudged them a bit further in our direction.” He peered over at Aziraphale. “You sure you didn’t do any tempting?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I only did my duties.” He paused, recalling those exhausting years, which had only been bearable because of the procession of young men willing to entertain, though few of them lasted very long. “I made a few friends, though most of them are long gone now.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t need his senses to hear the whisper of wary jealousy in the demon’s voice.

Better not to prod a wound still so tender. “As I said, they’re long gone now.” He frowned. “Surely I would have known if there was another demon. London is mine. I could sense an infernal being anywhere.”

“Yeah.” Crowley took a swig from his glass. “That’s what I thought.”

Aziraphale turned his glass between his hands, the wine catching the light from his table lamp. “Do you think they tempted themselves, perhaps?” he offered, though he knew it was a weak argument.

“For my lot to pick up on it, someone from one of our sides had to be involved.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I dunno, angel. Right now, I don’t really care as long as they aren’t about to rip my arse through my mouth.”

Aziraphale winced. “Oh, Lord. Yes, better that they don’t suspect.” He hesitated, then gently said, “I’m very sorry.”

Crowley’s face twisted in confusion. “For what?”

“Making you feel that was your only option.”

The demon gaped at him. “Sod off, angel,” he snorted, sliding down the couch to slouch in an impressive display of forced nonchalance. “You’re not that special.”

Crowley was many things. A good liar was not one of them.

“I know,” Aziraphale murmured, “and I’m still sorry.”

The demon made an inarticulate sound, averting his eyes. “Just… more wine, yeah?”

The angel nodded, reaching for the bottle. “Yes,” he agreed. “More wine.”

#fic: crossing paths #good omens #good omens fic #crowley #aziraphale