#i say this but in reality id get too frightened to go like a small animal huddling in the corner of the room

[st4rstudent]

finding out last years toon fest was in Atlanta is really funny to me

#clemramble #WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS 2 HOURS AND 30 MINUTES AWAY FROM ME. COME BACK. #i say this but in reality id get too frightened to go like a small animal huddling in the corner of the room #...also i wasnt crazy into tt until may (month school was ending) so. yknow. #but its funny to think about. one beautiful car drive away #i get there and then get scared and run out forever because idont know anyone #and also bc its more tt r focused and i know ... less than id like about it. not like thats an issue but i just probably wouldnt be #able to participate in the trivia and stuff . or atleast i think. i dontknow what all they do there if i must be honest but it seems fun #i do need to play it someday.. i think i made an account and then just never had the motivation to play #would you believe me if i said its because i love zap gags and they dont have zap in that one #i looove electric based attacks #i do need to figure out what that monkeys deal is though. i must find out one day #everytime someone talks about him it just sounds like hes always going through the trenches #anyways sorryijust think its funny it was so close. and now its 15 hours away

[sharkboygirlish]

Messy.

ONE-SHOT

Word count: 2793

Disclaimer:  One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.

Warning: None

Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)

Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now.  At long last it it FINISHED.

Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.

Without further ado, here ya go.

Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.

Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

__________________________________________

The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching. 

She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’

Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again. 

Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately. 

Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being. 

Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could. 

“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”

He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’ 

Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’

Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.

‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated. 

He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that. 

But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’

“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”

“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?” 

He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’

Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”

Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…

But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’  

Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”

“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”

“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”

Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’

“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.

                                                       * * *

“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.

Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’

“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.

“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.

‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘

“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”

Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.

“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”

Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.

“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”

“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”

An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’

“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”

Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.

He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this. 

Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’

                                                        * * *

“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.

‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.

“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”

When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”

Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.

“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.

‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?

It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.

Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.

Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’

Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…

‘Zoro was crying.’

Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.

One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.

‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’

“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”

‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.

“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.

A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”

#zona #zonami #zoro x nami #zona one-shots #zoro nami fanfiction #zonalove #zoro x nami fanfic

[kyber-kisses]

I, Alone (Part 6)

Dean Winchester x Reader

wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: more of that fine ass yearning. . . And more angst.

Summary: Music brings back more memories for Dean as he continues to search for the person he lost, while the reader begins to give up her hold on life.

A/n: I honestly have no idea how i feel about this chapter, so please tell me what you thought! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

“9:30? Are you kidding me Sam?” Dean grumbled to himself, glancing down at his watch as he slid the rest of the groceries into the back seat. “You asked me to go on a supply run at 9:30 in the morning?”

He should be in bed right now still sleeping. . . Or better yet: trying to figure out who this mystery person was that he was searching for.

But no. His brother sent him out for groceries because it was “his turn”or whatever.

Shaking his head Dean flipped the keys in his hand before sliding into the front seat of Baby and jamming the keys into the ignition. The vehicle roaring to life along with the radio. Dean grimaced at the tune as he reversed out of the parking spot and turned towards home.

“Alright, who the fuck was messing with the dials-“ he sighed, taking one hand off the wheel to direct the radio back to its usual station. . . Before he paused, suddenly caught up in the tune.

Ain't no use in calling out my name, boy

I can't hear for you any more

He didn’t understand why the tune suddenly pulled at him, but it did. His hand dropping from the radio dial as he glanced at it in confusion. He wasn’t particularly fond of this music normally but he couldn’t bring himself to change it. It felt familiar.and he had no clue as to why.

When your rooster crows at the break of dawn

Look out your window and I'll be gone

You're the reason I'm traveling on

Shaking his head Dean turned his attention towards the road once more, tapping his fingers to the tune as he drove towards home. Maybe it would come to him if he left it on. Sam was probably gonna think he was crazy when he tried to explain this later. Eventually he found himself humming along, finding the song more familiar as it continued. He had a connection to this song, he could feel it in his bones.

It ain't no use in calling out my name

I can't hear you any more

I'm a-thinking and a-wond'rin' walking down the road

And before Dean could even realized it he was finishing the lyrics, his brain going into auto pilot. “I once loved a woman, a chi-”

The second the lyrics left his mouth he froze, mouth snapping shut as he looked back to the radio with wide eyes.

“I once loved a woman.” He repeated, taking a big gulp of air as it finally hit him. “Holy shit.” And like a switch being flicked he suddenly pressed his foot to the gas and tore off down the dirt road towards home, paying no mind to the speed limit.

The next few minutes when by like a blur as Deans mind raced and then suddenly he was throwing the impala in park and racing towards the bunker door, swinging it open with such force that it made the younger Winchester jump from his seat in the library.

“Dean, what the hell?!”

“It’s a woman!”

“What?”

“I said-“ Dean paused, taking his time as he raced down the metal steps and into the war room. “It’s a woman. The missing pictures. The missing person.” Panting he placed his hands on his knees, gulping in air.

Closing his book, Sam slowly slid from his seat, working his way down the steps towards his brother. “And how did you figure that out?”

“Bob Dylan.”

“What?”

“It- never mind. Just pay attention to the fact that I’m slowly figuring this all out.” Dean waved a hand before falling back into one of the vacant seats. Sam pulling out his own chair so he could sit besides him.

It had taken a few days, but Sam had slowly begun to believe Dean about his missing person, doing his best to help in whatever way possible. But as he waited for Dean to catch his breath he could also see his face beginning to fall, his excitement slowly being taken over by worry.

“Dean?”

Apart from his bouncing knee, Dean remained still. He could feel his heart threatening to break out from the confines of his chest as he took a deep breath, ignoring his brother besides him. He had been fine a second ago. Why did he suddenly feel so scared?

“I’m scared Sam.”

“Why?”

“Because what if she’s dead? What if she been dead for a long time and I’m only now just remembering her?”

“Hey, don’t say that-“

“Or what if she’s alive but she’s hurt? What if she’s been scared and alone and all I’ve been doing is sitting here forgetting she even existed?”

“Dean-“

Dean could feel the burn of oncoming tears as he continued to bounce his knee, eyes focusing on some point in the distance. “I fear for her Sam. What if shes trying to come home but she can’t? What if she alone?” He repeated, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. “She should be here with us. She should be home where it’s safe.”

Sam let out a sigh as he squeezed his brothers shoulder, Dean whipping around to look at him with glossy eyes. “We’re gonna figure this out.”

“I love her Sam. I don’t know her name or who she is, but I love her. I know I do. I can feel it in my bones.”

“I believe you.” Sam nodded, his heart breaking at the sight of his older brother. Dean looked scared. . . And so very, very frightened.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Have you heard anything from Cas lately? He might’ve found something on his Heaven business?”

“No. I haven’t.” Dean let out a sigh, his head hanging as he raked his hands through his hair once more.

“Well then in the mean time I’ll help you figure this out, okay?”

“Okay.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Three days. That how long you had been locked in that cellar. At least that is what it felt like. You had been trapped in the dark for what felt like forever, the cold and musty air of the root cellar being your only companion.

Why you weren’t dead you didn’t understand. You were sure the second that poltergeist wrapped it’s icy fingers around you that you were about to meet you end. . . But instead you ended up here, with a temple crusted in dried blood and what felt like bruises around your neck. Your pack was gone along with your head lamp so you had no way of patching yourself up.in other words, the situation you were in was not a good one. At all.

Most people in this situation would be scared shitless at this point. . . But not you. You were just tired. You had tried getting out for awhile but eventually gave up, too weak to even attempt to break down the massive wooden door of the cellar. If you died here so be it. Nobody would miss you. You would just be another one of the many unfortunate victims of the poltergeist. Sure you weren’t very fond of dying alone in the dark, but what else were you supposed to do?

Sliding back down the hard stone wall, you let your butt hit the dirt, pulling your knees into your chest. The only noise coming from the rumble of your stomach. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten, but clearly it hadn’t been in awhile.

During the first several hours you weren’t that bothered by it all. You only found it to be a mild inconvenience. . . And then you realized how quiet it was. And you hated it. From the moment you left the bunker you tried to fill every moment with noise, whether it be the radio or staying in the noisiest part of whatever town or city you were staying in.

Silence was your enemy because it only allowed you to hear everything going on inside your head. When it was silent you thought of home. You thought of Sam and Dean.

And that was a whole other type of pain that you could not take. They were the past and you couldn’t go back.

But sometimes when the silence got really bad, like now for instance, you talked to yourself. . . Sometimes even pretending Dean was sitting there besides you, listening. He was always good at that. It gave you a small dose of comfort.

“My mama used to tell me that when you dream about someone it’s because they miss you.” You spoke softly, trying to fill the quiet air around you. “A few weeks ago I dreamt you and I were walking through downtown Lebanon, your hand on the small of my back. I can’t remember what I said but you laughed so hard you threw your head back with a smile that out shined the sun. I told you how beautiful your soul was and you kissed me on the mouth with so much passion my bones shook.” Feeling the tears begin to track down your dirt smeared face you paused.

That dream had been both nice and horrible at the same time. It was nice to momentarily live in a world were Dean loved you back in the same way you loved him, but that just made waking up that much crueler. He didn’t love you like that. He never had. Never would.

“When I woke up my eyes were filled with tears because I never got to tell you what being in love with you really felt like. I never got to hold you the way I wanted to so badly.” At the sound of your voice breaking you paused once more, using the heel of your hand to rub at your eye. God, you were so tired. “I wish I still believed my mom. That me dreaming of you meant you missed me. But I know it’s too good to be true. That’s not how this thing works.”

You wanted to cry more,let it all out,  but you were so dehydrated that your tears had already come and gone. You were too weak to do anything, so instead you slid further to the ground, curling up in hopes of finding some warmth in the cold cellar.

If this was where you were going to die you wanted Death to take you quickly and painlessly. No one was coming to save you, you were childish to think that your little trick would work when you were being attacked.

Humming a familiar tune to yourself you closed your eyes, exhaustion taking over.

It ain't no use in turning on your light, babe

That light Id never known

And it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe

I'm on the dark side of the road

And that’s when you felt the pain and hunger drag you under, reality slipping through your fingers like sand as you lost yourself to a heavy and dreamless sleep, drowning in darkness.

You were unconscious by the time the old wooden door was blown open, the silhouette of an old friend taking up the threshold and blocking the full moon just beyond.

So maybe your small trick had worked. . . But you didn’t know that.

SPN Taglist (still open!)

@familybusinesswritingbro​​​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​​ @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​​​ @callmekda​​​ @jordangdelacruz​​ @orphiceseum​​​ @andthatsmyworld​​ @marvelfangirllll​​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​​ @gladiosamicitias​​ @castielsangelsx​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​​​  @totallyluciferr​​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​​ @dolanfivsosxox​​@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​ @akshi8278​ @defenderrosetyler​​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​ @idksupernatural​​​ @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @beanie-beebo​​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​​ @greenarrowhead​​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​​ @brebolin​​ @biahblue​​

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #spn x reader #dean winchester series #dean winchester angst #supernatural #bi-danvers writing

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

ooh ask day! are you working on any of your own writing at the moment? what excites you about it? is your writing similar to your prompts in any way? or do the prompts fulfill something else for you?

mainly im working on getting my first novel published, which you can read about HERE. otherwise, the sequel, an adult fiction project, and an urban fantasy type YA about a town called florida. in florida. Florida, florida.

Florida project, working title BORDERLINE, is the most in line with my general prompt vibe here. a little cosmic horror, bent reality, just generally odd.

I never write stuff based off the prompts, but I DO write prompts based off my own stuff, very occasionally. for me, writing prompts is like scales for a musician. keeps my brain well oiled.

*still taking asks, no requests please*

anyway, ive been working on Florida project a lot lately. have an excerpt:

Backpage:

Lin O’Leary was born and raised in the town of Florida, Florida, tucked away into a corner of the state’s forgotten coast. All the locals know Florida is a strange place, rumored to stand on a borderline, where the veil is thin and mysterious forces wander alongside the human population. The daughter of Irish and Mexican immigrants, Lin knows you can only find trouble if you go looking for it, and like the rest of Florida’s residents, lives comfortably alongside the supernatural. This is before Momoko Kasahara disappears into thin air, frightening the town of Florida into a new, ultra-cautious existence. Five years after Momo’s disappearance, Lin is seventeen, a highschool dropout now working at a convenience store, her once vibrant town still plagued by fear. The days drag by, mundane as they come in Florida, occasionally punctuated by unpleasant visits from Bo Kasahara, brother to Momo and full time asshole. Then, one fateful late shift, Lin sees the missing Kasahara twin standing in the aisles, gone as quickly as she appeared. Meanwhile, a stranger arrives from California, claiming to be a paranormal investigator hellbent on uncovering the mysteries of Florida, and suddenly Lin is faced with a choice. Be smart and keep her head down, or dive headlong into the strange mist that so often covers Florida, to rescue Momo Kasahara, and return her town to the way she remembers it.

1. 100% humidity feels like breathing underwater.

L I N

Florida ate Momoko Kasahara on the most miserable day of the year, and washed her down with a thunderstorm. A lot of other important things happened that day, but Momo’s disappearance overshadowed them all. Momo was the coolest girl in our class. She had shiny black hair that ran down to her waist. She liked to wear a different flavor of lip gloss every day of the week, and could sing in Japanese. I was on my way home from the beach when I saw the police cars in her driveway, and her twin brother sitting on the porch, painted purple in the twilight. 

He shook his head, at me, slow, and all the sound seemed to drain out of the world. The flashing police lights distorted his face, as bright white clouds passed too quickly above us. The whole scene drove a stake of wrongness hard into my chest. Sometimes even now, I dream about it. Bo and I watching each other. The dead silence. The purple light. The too white clouds. And Momo, eaten.  For the first time in my life, I was afraid of my own town. 

My name is Lin O’leary. I live in Florida, Florida, a nothing sort of place crammed into an extra forgotten corner of the state’s already forgotten coast. Some days I can forget about Momo, and everything that happened in the hours before she vanished. Heff says I’m good at keeping my eyes closed, even when they’re open. 

I really wish he were right. 

2. Cloudy with a chance of hotdogs (haunted).

J U L I E N

I was standing in front of the worst building I had ever seen. Slab grey and full of sharp edges, additions had been slapped onto every side until it resembled an impossible puzzle piece. The front windows were crowded with signs for cold beer and hot food, but the glass itself was opaque. It was a convenience store from hell, a collection of stationary parts so nonsensical I was worried it might grow a few new alcoves if I blinked. Above the door, an unintelligible sign in complicated neon cursive flashed electric blue. There was a neon clock too, flickering wildly, just striking twelve.

I must have walked halfway across town, and as far I could tell this was the only place that sold food at all, let alone past three in the morning. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. My stomach was a mess, and haunted convenience store hot dogs could only make it worse. I fished my phone out of my pocket, but the little service I had was, like the midnight clock above me, barely clinging to existence, my map application nothing more than a collection of beige squares. There was no one around. The sky was intensely dark, a pitch black blanket of clouds. Water hung thick in the air, the night time street so quiet I could almost hear beads of sweat sliding down my already slick face. No, there was nothing for it. I needed directions. 

The bell above the door made a strange, flat sound as I pressed inside. If the building was weird from the outside, that was nothing to its interior. The shelves, tall and numerous, had been arranged like maze walls. The overhead lights were blinding, stark white, and every other tile on the floor was mismatched. Some were squares of carpet. The only thing really visible from the entrance was the register, a fortress made of dark wood and surrounded by lottery advertisements. Behind the counter, a girl was reading something intently. As I got closer, I saw it was the back of a box of oatmeal.

“Hi,” I said, adjusting the duffel bag that had been crushing my left shoulder for an hour. 

The girl nodded, but didn’t look up. She had thin black hair, pin straight and chin length. Her skin was a warm, golden brown. Her shirt said something in miniscule writing, but my glasses were a little foggy, so I would have had to practically press my face to her chest to read it, which didn’t seem like a great first impression.

“Can you help me? I’m looking for the Fahrenheit Motel. I think it’s supposed to be around here.” 

Finally, she glanced at me. 

“It’s just around the corner. See the glasses store across the street? Go straight past that and make the second left, you’ll run right into it.” 

She pointed out the window, and I realized they were one way. 

“Who built this place?” I asked. 

She shrugged. 

“We’ve had a lot of owners. Everyone adds something new.”

There was something off about her. Like we were talking, but mentally she was still 

reading the box of oatmeal. 

“I’m Julien,” I said, sticking out a hand. She raised her eyebrows before taking it. 

“Lin,” she said, with another small nod. 

Her face was round, but her features were knife sharp. I wondered what she looked like angry. Maybe that was a really weird thing to think. 

Not wanting to ask for a second set of directions, I wandered around the store for thirty minutes before returning to the counter with a gallon of chocolate milk and a bag of seaweed flavored potato chips. 

“I can’t believe you have these. I didn’t think you could find them outside of California.”

Instead of replying, Lin held up the chocolate milk. 

“There’s no fridge in your room at the Fahrenheit. You know that right?”

“I was told on the phone… ” I started.

“There’s a fridge, but it’s in the lobby, communal. Kimmy’ll drink this.” She gave the milk a little shake before scanning it. “Just warning you.”

“Thanks,” I said, as she stuffed my things in a smiling shopping bag. 

I paused on my way out.

“Goodnight,” I said, “Or, good morning I guess.” 

Lin stared at me, then glanced at the box of oatmeal and back. 

“Morning,” she said, with a sigh.

***

I followed Lin’s directions, and wound up at last in front of a long, low building sporting a vacancies sign. Even in low light I could see about a hundred sad looking plastic flamingos had been stuck all over the lawn, the bushes, even the gravel path that led to the front door. I had to pick my way around them on approach. 

There was no one at the front desk. The reception area was lit only by the green blue light coming from an enormous fishtank that didn’t seem to have any fish in it. As I approached the counter, I noticed someone had left the key to my room out for me, next to a scrap of paper bearing the wifi password. I picked up the key, old and brass, then watched the fishtank for a second, before turning around and experiencing heart failure. 

A very old woman with wiry black hair was standing there in her nightgown, arms crossed and frowning at me. She didn’t apologize for nearly sending me to my grave. 

“I’m up. I can check you in properly,” she said, shuffling past me. “I’m Kimmy, but you can call me Miss Kimmy. You got ID?” 

I dug it out of my wallet while she opened a dusty guest book. 

“The reservation is for Julien True,” I said. 

Miss Kimmy glanced at the ID I had just handed her. 

“That’s not what this says.”

“I know. It’s a stage name,” I admitted, “everything else is correct.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, but didn’t ask any more questions. 

“Now listen,” she said finally, shutting the guest book with a snap. “I’ll be honest, there’s not much to do around here. There’s a bus runs to the state forest during the day, and the beach isn’t going anywhere. If you’re hungry that’s too bad for the most part, unless you feel like walking down to Morton’s.”

“Is that the weird looking building? One way windows?”

“That’s the one. Midnight Morton’s, never closes. This late at night you’ve got Lin at the counter, nice girl.” 

I don’t know what I would have called Lin, but it probably wasn’t ‘nice girl’.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing around for the hallway that led to my room.

I bid Miss Kimmy goodnight and lugged my things to Room 7, at the very end of the dark hall. Inside was simple, but stunningly clean, which I had in no way expected. The bed had a sunken spot in the middle, and there were a lot of paintings of tropical fish on the walls. Home sweet home. I changed into pajamas, and took a huge swig of chocolate milk before glancing at my duffel, still full of equipment. 

It could wait. I was exhausted, sweaty, and more alone than I had ever been in my entire life. 

3. Welcome to my grocery store how may I assist you.

L I N

“I want to drop out of high school,” said Roach. 

We were sprawled out on separate tartan sofas, both angled towards the ancient television. It was after midnight, and the only light in the room was coming from the nature channel.

“No you don’t,” I said. “You’re not even in high school.”

Roach was a weird little girl. Eleven years old, she wore oversized thrift store t-shirts, and big chunky glasses, and cut her own hair. I loved her the most in this world.

“Yeah, but when I get there, I want to drop out. You did.”

I sighed. 

“You’re smarter than me. You have to finish school and work in a laboratory anywhere but here. Those are the rules.” 

Roach crossed and uncrossed her skinny legs without arguing. I knew she just wanted to hear me say she was smart. 

We continued to watch the nature channel in silence. A documentary on the arctic ocean was playing, which I found devastatingly boring, but Roach was clearly glued to. I could hear dad snoring upstairs, a pleasant sort of nightly white noise, and tuned out completely until Roach clapped an inch from my face. 

“Jeez,” I started, pushing her hands away.

“You were way out there. It’s freaky.”

I had been practicing my zone out since I was Roach’s age. On my best day, I could have an entire conversation without hearing one word the other person said. Call it a life skill.

“You’re doing it again!” said Roach. “Don’t you have work soon?” 

That snapped me out of it. I looked at my watch. 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” 

I rolled off the couch as Roach sat back down with a huff. The arctic documentary was ending, and she picked up the changer to scroll through a long list of similar recordings. Roach loved animals, all of them, even fish that ate your insides, and grubs, and parasitic worms. Especially parasitic worms. 

“Don’t stay up too late okay?” I said, tugging gently on her massive ponytail. Roach got dad’s curly, reddish brown hair. I got mom’s.

“Mmhm.”

I glanced in the hall mirror to see if there was any food on my shirt. Then I stepped into the mosquito ridden, muggy Florida night, and headed to my shift.

***

You might be thinking: where does a seventeen year old high school dropout work after midnight? And the thrilling answer is: the grocery store, sort of.

You might be thinking: what? 

But that’s Morton’s. 

The sliding doors opened smoothly for me upon arrival, which was always a good omen. I straightened the newsstand and went to look for Barry.

My manager, a small, Dominican man who loved to party, was in the produce section with a woman I assumed was his latest girlfriend. He was chucking the moldiest vegetables into an open trashcan.

“Our fresh produce is a travesty,” I said. “When was the last time someone bought an eggplant here?”

“I’m thinking of moving the veg,” said Barry, “they don’t like the energy in this corner.”

Barry was constantly moving things around the small labyrinth that was Morton’s. At least once a month he would take an hour long stroll from shelf to shelf, while I wrote down what was going where. I made a new map of the store for every big move.

“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, as Barry followed me to the register, bag of moldy vegetables in hand.

“Dancing,” said his date, with an endearing round of jazz hands, as Barry broke into a stationary samba while he gave me a list of stuff to work on. He treated me to his own enthusiastic jazz hands, and a few notes of a Juan Luis Guerra song as he samba’d in the direction of the door. As it swung shut behind them, I let the intense silence of Morton's wash over me. The fluorescent lights hummed gently. The food sat well behaved in slightly crooked rows. I turned my brain down to its lowest setting, and consulted my list.

...

[iraacundus]

Butterfly Lies - TWO

previous ✭ CHAPTER 2 ✭ next ✭ masterlist

mafialeader kun x reader

words: 4k

genre: fluff, smut (in later chapters), angst

warnings: injury, weapons, swearing

money makes people do strange things, is what people would say, it can even motivate them to murder. kun didn’t have people killed for the money, he had them killed for the power, he was a monster among men, is what people would say. in reality kun had only ever been motivated by one thing, his love for you

✭  ✭  ✭  ✭  ✭

You sat in the university lecture, not really listening, instead using all your energy to push Kun and the gun to the back of your mind. You didn’t really have to listen anyway; you had watched the lecture from last year online before you had even gotten there. You were a model student.

Your friend Yuyan nudged you, flicking her head towards a group of boys sitting in front of you.

“Is he new?” she asked, “I think I would have noticed if such a good-looking guy was on our course.”

“Which one do you mean?” you queried, no idea who she was referencing.

“There third on the left, brown hair, glasses,”

You pulled your own reading glasses down slightly so you could look over them to see who she was talking about.

You spotted him and for a moment felt slightly annoyed before a small smirk settled on your face. You had seen that guy before, standing behind Ten at the apartment, making a phone call to Kun.

“I think he has always been in our class,” you said to her, lying through your teeth. You didn’t know whether to continue to be annoyed or become reassured at the sight of Xiaojun sitting in your history of economics lecture. Either way you thought it was best to keep his identity somewhat secret.

You could have chosen to believe it was a coincidence, that Xiaojun really had just transferred to your class. Somehow you didn’t think he looked old enough to be in a final year class though. He was evidently not as old as you.

Therefore, you chose to be suspicious.

Kun had clearly sent him after your gun freak out. You were somewhat insulted that he thought you needed a babysitter, but you couldn’t be annoyed at him because you knew Kun always acted with good intentions.

As the lecturer droned on about the economic plans the Chinese government had after the war, you began to formulate your own plan.

If Kun wanted to play the game where he essentially sent someone to spy on you for what he considered your own safety, you were going to use it to your own advantage.

You hadn’t wanted to ask Kun questions because it was clearly uncomfortable for him. However, you had no qualms about trying to get the answers to those same questions out of Xiaojun. You just had to somehow befriend him first.

The difficulty of that task depended on two things. The first one being how loyal he was to Kun. You had to guess pretty loyal if Kun trusted him to make sure you didn’t get attacked or report him to the police. The second was if Kun had specifically instructed him to say nothing to you.

If that was the case, you had about zero chance of getting through to him. You had to hope the only thing Kun had banned them from was letting you into the apartment.

As soon as the lecturer began to wrap up you jumped out of your seat and half ran after Xiaojun who had left early, seemingly in the hope you wouldn’t have spotted him.

When it became very apparent you were jogging after him Xiaojun stopped and let you catch up with him. At the same time Yuyan texted you asking if you knew the cute boy and why you ran after him. A text which you sadly had to ignore.

“Hey, Xiaojun right? You were in the apartment behind Ten that day, right?” you asked, knowing the answer, but curious to see if he would try and lie.

“How did you even see me?” he asked, fixing the position of his glasses slightly.

“Good eyesight, well only the long-distance aspect of it but still,” you explained taking your own glasses off, realising you couldn’t see him properly with them on as you were no longer meant to be reading.

Xiaojun was clearly nervous, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly, playing with the adjustment strap on his backpack.

“I didn’t know you were an economics student?” you said, smiling at him slightly deviously which only made him appear more awkward and maybe slightly fearful. Maybe he thought that friends of gang leaders were all worth fearing. You didn’t think that would have been an unfair conclusion to draw even if it didn’t apply to you.

Xiaojun looked down at his watch.

“Sorry, I’m busy right now, I have something I can’t be late for, can we chat some other time?” he said. You shook your head, linking your arm with his.

“That is not going to work as an escape ploy, instead I think we should go for coffee, any friend of Kun’s is a friend of mine.”

You began to walk him toward the nearest coffee shop to the university campus. He didn’t protest or struggle and seeing as you could tell he would have defiantly won in a fight; you took it as a sign he was willing to go along with whatever you were doing.

“How did you know I would know you?” Xiaojun asked, “Like that we knew what you looked like not just your name?”

You didn’t really know why you had assumed that. You began to laugh to yourself imagining a meeting with all these tough guys in which Kun just stood at the front with an A4 picture of your face.

Something along those lines must have occurred seeing as Xiaojun did know your face when he saw you. Still you didn’t answer his question. As you opened the door of the coffee shop and pulled him inside you changed the topic.

“What do you want? I’ll pay seeing as I dragged you here,” you said, Xiaojun didn’t bother to argue with you and just told you the one he wanted.

You paid and after an uncomfortable silence between the two of you as you waited for them to be made, the barista handed you the drinks.

You sat down in a chair opposite him and drank your coffee for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything first, to judge how chatty he was.

Sadly, he didn’t say anything and didn’t seem like the chatty type which wasn’t the greatest start to your plan.

“What’s your job then?” you asked him, placing your drink back town on the table. Xiaojun looked in thought and for a moment you wondered if he would even answer at all, or if he just planned to sit with you silently.

“Management,” he replied, clearly deciding that was an appropriate response.

“Most managers don’t stalk their bosses’ friends at their university,” you raised one eyebrow slightly, “what’s your real job?”

When he didn’t reply and just began to fiddle nervously, you realised you were being kind of harsh on him, it must have been hard for him to work out what he could say and what he couldn’t,

“I’m just being annoying, I’m sorry.”

Xiaojun shrugged.

“I wouldn’t ‘stalk’ you as your calling it, if I had the choice, nor is it my usual job. It’s a personal favour I’m doing for your rather scary friend Kun.”

You chuckled slightly at his eventual response. You couldn’t believe that people were scared of Kun. While the situation frightened you slightly, you had never been scared of Kun, he was too sweet a person for that.

“In what way is Kun scary?” you asked, unbelievably curious about how he acted around the rest of the people in his life, the people who had the same kind of job he did.

“You are literally the only person he is actually nice to apart from Ten, well at least I assume. He is big on rules and doing well and when you fuck up, he is mad scary man. I mean he’s the boss that’s how he has to be to succeed in our business. He is a cold man with big plans, not the Easter bunny,” Xiaojun explained.

You struggled to imagine any other version of Kun than the kind-hearted one you knew who would watch cartoons with you and got sprinkles on his ice cream.

“He’s a good guy,” you said, for some reason feeling the sudden need to defend him, you for some reason wished that Xiaojun saw Kun the way you did.

“I never said I thought he wasn’t. Doesn’t make him not terrifying.”

Xiao Jun’s phone started to ring, the shrill tone cutting through the pause in conversation. You could see Kun was the caller ID.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” Xiaojun said, standing up and walking a few meters away.

As soon as the call had started you could see that whatever Kun was saying wasn’t good. You heard Xiaojun swear loudly enough that other people looked around. You stood up and ushered him out the door, still on the phone, mouthing sorry to the people in the coffee shop.

“I will come right now, yes she is literally standing right behind me,” Xiaojun said, hanging up the phone by pressing the screen rather aggressively.

“What’s wrong, is Kun okay?” you asked him. He just shook his head.

“What do you mean no, is he in the hospital or something, what happened?” You started to panic for approximately the fourth time that week. Cool and collected was not your prerogative.

“In our line of work, we never go to the hospital, it’s not really an option, the hospital asks questions we cannot answer without being arrested…”

You don’t know whether he just didn’t have time to deal with your questions or if he had taken pity on the worried expression on your face, but he gave in.

“Kun has been stabbed, they’re at the office, it’s like a four-minute run from here, how good at running are you?” He said the words all seeming to explode out of his mouth at once.

Xiaojun didn’t wait for an answer, he just took off running towards the centre of town.

You were frozen for a few seconds. Kun had been stabbed and yet he wasn’t going to the hospital. If you hadn’t been so worried you really would have been inclined to kill him.

You realised that Xiaojun was fast, after only a few seconds he was already far ahead so you forced your body to run after him despite the shock.

After a few minutes you saw him run into the entrance of a building that said Qian Industries on the side. Which in itself was insane to you, but you didn’t have time to be surprised that Kun owned a building.

Thankfully Xiaojun had waited briefly for you inside so you didn’t have to guess which floor to go to in the lift. Xiaojun hurried you in and pressed the button for the fourteenth flour.

The short time in the lift gave you a second to think that you hadn’t yet had and for whatever reason tears began to well up in your eyes.

“Is he going to die?” you asked, looking up at Xiaojun, who was realising that had no idea how to comfort a crying girl in a lift.

“He will be fine, just try to look less upset, that will probably help,” he said, pushing you out of the lift when the doors opened as you hadn’t moved by yourself. He grabbed a tissue from a box that had been in the corridor and handed it to you, “just try and pull it together slightly before you come in, crying really won’t be helpful, it’s the second door on the left,” Xiaojun said, “Sorry I don’t mean to sound so harsh,” he added.

He walked away into the office where a heated argument was clearly occurring between a group of people.

You used the tissue to wipe your face. Xiaojun was right, if Kun saw you crying he would probably be concerned, and it wasn’t you he needed to be concerned about. You had to somehow convince him to go to a hospital.

You threw the tissue in the nearest bin and took a deep breath before pushing down the handle to the office and opening the door.

You were immediately met with the sight of Kun stitching up a rather large wound on his arm through gritted teeth. Luckily for you, you had never been squeamish. Next to him Ten was attempting to reset some guys nose. From the other man shouting at him you deciphered the guy with the broken nose was named Yangyang.

“Well shit,” was all you managed to say, causing them to all stop shouting at one and other and look over. Xiaojun who had just sat down on the desk could do nothing but put his head in his hands at the situation.

“y/n!” Kun said out of surprise, before groaning, his stitch had missed due to the distraction of your entrance. You walked straight over to him and crouched down in front of where he was sitting.

“You should really go to a hospital or at least get a doctor,” you said to him, struggling to see him when he was in so much pain. Kun just shook his head.

“That is not a viable option, I would die before I went to the hospital, luckily I was only stabbed in the arm, so I won’t be dying today.”

“I am so mad at you Kun,” you said, when really you were just upset that he was taking such a serious injury so nonchalantly.

“You can’t be mad at me, I’m injured,” he joked, flashing a smile at you before finishing the last stich, tying the thread and cutting it, “see… I’m fine now.”

He was right you couldn’t be mad at him.

“If I hug you in front of your associates,” you tried to think of the best way to refer to his fellow gang members, “would that be embarrassing for you,” you said, quietly enough that the associates as you were calling them, couldn’t hear over their yelling

“I’m the boss, I can do what I want,” he replied. With the go ahead, you carefully wrapped your arms around him, taking special attention not to touch his arm,

“Do you need pain killers or something, I don’t think the ibuprofen in my bag will help you much though?”

“You’re the only comfort I need,” he joked. You pulled away your lips settling into a firm line.

“While that would be a good line at any other time I admit, be serious, I’m worried about you.”

You crouched back down in front of him.

“Worry not, my work often involves illegal drugs and so always have a supply of anything I could ever need, in this case, local anaesthetic, I can barely feel my arm.”

You got up and went to the water machine you had spotted on the other side of the office and filled up a cup with water before bringing it back. Trying to do something to help.

“Drink,” you encouraged, handing the water to Kun, he smiled, taking a sip, “then talk… how the hell did you get stabbed Kun? You said there was nothing to worry about, that you could protect yourself.”

“Can we talk later?” he asked. You nodded understanding he had stuff to deal with.

“Stop shouting Lucas!” He called, focusing his attention to the chaos unfolding in the office. You stood up from where you were crouched and went to lean against the desk next to Xiaojun.

He was tapping a beat lightly on the counter, clearly not very invested in what was going on now he had ascertained that no one was going to die.

He had a wry smile on his face.

“I have never seen Kun smile, not in the three years I have known him, not before you talked to him just now,” he said, “are you magic, have you placed him under a spell or something?”

You felt like that was somehow an insult, but you laughed anyway in response.

“Not magic no, just an old friend of his.”

“So, you are seriously not dating? Like he clearly loves you, bro”

“We are not close enough friends for this conversation … bro,” you replied. Xiaojun didn’t seem to care, he just went back to tapping the table.

You turned your own attention to Kun sorting out the mess in front of him. He had managed to get them to stop arguing and listen to him straight away. Even if they found him scary you could tell they respected him more so than anything else.

You felt a weird sense of pride rise in your chest. Kun may not have been the same boy you had met at fifteen, but he had made something of his life. His line of work may have been illegal, but he had people who respected him and with a building this big, you figured he had to have been good at his job.

“If I hadn’t shown up in time, you and five other guys would have died Yangyang, you understand that.” Kun said to him. The boy named Yangyang nodded and hung his head slightly, his newly reset nose starting to bruise horribly.

So Kun had been protecting him? He had clearly gotten him out of trouble, even as a gang member he was a good guy.

“I would show up to save any of you, you all know that, but I shouldn’t have too, Yangyang you’re clearly too young for this position so you are gonna have to go back to working for Ten. I would shout at you more, but I think Lucas has done that for me, you should all just go home, get some rest. I’ll contact you sometime later this week,” he said sitting down in the chair behind the desk where you were leaning.

They all got up and walked out as soon as he asked them too. Yangyang leaving last, waiting at the door last, to personally thank Kun, who just told him to get some sleep.

You turned around moving a few items before climbing up and sitting cross legged on the desk facing Kun once again.

“So, you own a building these days Qian Kun? That’s slightly impressive I will give it too you,” you fiddled with the items on the desk, all the pens and all the paper with the name Qian Industries at the top, “yet somehow I don’t believe this is an engineering company.”

You were filled with nervous energy, unable to sit still so you began to draw a star on your hand slowly.

“We are good at forging documents what can I say,” Kun replied, eyes focused on where you were drawing on your hand, “I’m sorry I worried you,” he said, his gaze lifting up to look you in the eyes.

You stopped drawing.

“Only you are considerate enough to apologise for getting stabbed. I heard that you only were in that situation to help that kid. I might not love what you do but as I said, I won’t deny that you’re not impressive.”

Kun paused for a moment, searching through some of the papers on the desk before handing you and article he had printed out from the country’s biggest newspaper.

It referred to the unknown leader of Gang V, calling him a monster who killed people not for the money, but to make himself feel powerful. The article attributed many crimes to Kun, some that couldn’t ever have been him, as far as you knew Kun had never been to Sao Paulo.

“I’m never going to think you’re a bad person Kun, those writers don’t know anything about you, I’ve known you for over six years.”

“I am responsible for ordering most of the crimes on there to happen, apart from the ones in Sao Paulo, that makes no sense, I’ve never left the country.”

Which just confirmed that you knew him better than anyone.

“You also helped a random girl you met on the street find her way home and stood up for her against dickhead boys and watched Shrek with her more times than you can count. People aren’t just one thing.”

Kun moved his face closer to yours.

“That’s because I really, really like you, the moment I saw you I thought you were the most mesmerising girl in the world.”

You weren’t the biggest fan of when he said super cheesy things and couldn’t help making a slight face. Kun wasn’t offended by it, he knew you well enough to know it was the concept of being cheesy you objected too, not him specifically.

“You can see it from here,” he said, getting up and walking over to the floor to ceiling glass window. You followed him to see what he meant, “right there,” his finger pressed on the glass towards a street with badly working streetlamps.

“What is it?”

“The street where we first met,” he answered, before tucking a lose strand of hair behind your ear.

His eyes were fixed on yours, neither of you able to look away.

“Do I really have no chance? If it makes you uncomfortable, I will stop, we can just be best friends, I won’t flirt with you anymore. I just need you to tell me, that I have absolutely no chance of ever winning your affection.”

You paused for a second, staring back out at the street remembering the first day you met, how cute he was. The smartest choice would be to tell him to give up, but the thought of that made your heart ache. Equally you couldn’t say what he wanted to hear. You knew it was selfish of you really.

“It’s not that you have no chance,” you began, taking a moment to breath and compose yourself when you felt Kun’s fingers brush lightly against your own, his pinkie playing with yours.

His face looked so relieved when he heard your words.

“Then what, and please don’t say you won’t risk your friendship with me because I know that’s not the only reason.”

“Before… I knew what I know now, the distance between us due to what I didn’t know did mean that I thought it was best not to risk that. I could never have dated you not knowing a whole side of your life. I didn’t want to risk finding out though or asking you and you not wanting to tell me and that being an issue, its complicated, I don’t really understand myself fully my reasons.”

“And now?” he argued you to continue, you could almost hear his heart beating.

“You have turned out to be a powerful guy who most likely has powerful enemies. If you have a girlfriend then you have a weakness that those enemies will exploit, I’m not going to put either of us at risk like that.”

You could tell Kun wanted to argue with you so badly and tell you how stupid of a reason he thought that was. Poke holes in the argument you had given until you had no choice but to give in. He didn’t do that though; he was far to kind.

You were just thankful he didn’t comeback with some rather cheesy line about you being his weakness because you don’t think you could have handled that without throwing something at him.

“But I still have a chance?” he asked, his fingers still touching yours. You nodded.

“Then that’s good enough for me.”

You offered to drive him home because of his hurt arm, forgetting you didn’t have a driver’s licence or a car. When Kun reminded of that you settled on calling him a taxi instead. You wanted to go with him, to make sure he was okay, but you knew it was important for you both to have time apart, to process the nights events.

You caught the nearest bus back to your flat, drawing a star in the condensation of the window as you thought about your own words.

You were afraid to become Kun’s weakness, that’s why you somewhat distanced yourself from him by refusing to give into his charms and love him in that way.

Roads at night seem to lead to nowhere when you can’t see what comes beyond through the darkness. You were determined that you and Kun wouldn’t lead to nowhere, because the thought of him moving on from you was such a horrible one. So, you decided to do whatever you had to do, to become Kun’s strength instead of his weakness.

#wayv #wayv scenarios #kun #kun scenarios #wayv smut #kun mafia au #kun smut #nct scnearios #wayv series #kun series #nct series #wayv angst #wayv fluff #kun fluff #kun angst #nct mafia #wayv mafia au #nct mafia au #wayv mafia #kun mafia

[pdropscal]

Chapter I: Finding Her

“Even if I do find my parents, the only person whose daughter I am is yours”

Din Djarin x Daughter 

Din gripped his controls tighter and let out a deep sigh, trying not to let her hear it. They were close to Naboo and he wanted nothing more than to turn back. The man who always finished his missions wanted to abandon this one completely.

This is the way, He kept having to repeat it in his head. 

He lowered the ship trying to be as far away from the capital as possible, wanting to delay losing her a little bit longer. That’s when he heard footsteps behind him. He flicked off the controls and swung around in his chair. “I don’t think this is a good id-” he stopped when he saw The Child there gazing up at him. “You’re not your sister”.

“I bet he wishes he was” she walked into the control room picking up the child, “But he’s still stuck with you for a while, isn’t that right?” she teased his green ear.

Din stood out of his chair and approached his daughter. She was tall but still had to look up at him, a trait he secretly always hoped she’d always have. He went to finish what he was originally saying but she raised her hand to stop him. She couldn’t see his lips begin to move but she knew him well enough to read his head movements.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s the right thing to do dad”. She looked up at the Mandalorian wide eyed and silent before continuing. “This is the” 

“This is the way” her father joined her to finish the oath.

She placed the child back on the ground next to them and turned to go and grab her bag. Din looked down at him and didn’t say a word, but the child got the hint. Don’t go anywhere. I will be right back. Don’t touch anything.

He followed his daughter out the door and raced her to pick up her supplies and journeyed out of the ship. She laughed at his passive aggressiveness, it meant he was getting nervous. She picked up her pace to get next to him. They walked closer to the capital seeing the greenery and the castles, the busy city around them. Both of them a little shocked. Din held his awe completely hidden under his helmet. She had to stop and look up. 

He turned when he didn’t feel her next to him and gazed at her. His mind went blank before words faded in from memory. Clan. Until they come of age. As their father. It was hitting him that the day was here. But looking at her and seeing the hope in her eyes frightened the man who faced the empire. It was how he wished he could have looked at her age, but it was all torn away from him as a boy.

“Sabé” Din called out to get her attention. She ran back up to him snapping back to reality. “You can’t do that”.

“Do what?” she shot back.

“Ever let your guard down. It looks like a nice place but there is bad everywhere.” He raised up his finger to point trying to be stern enough for her to get the message. “If you’re going to do this you need to-” 

Sabé raised up her hands to wrap them around his, letting out a small smirk. “Dad, I will be fine. It’s what I have to do”. She smiled at him while still keeping a tight grip on his hand.

Din knew at that point he didn’t need to go on, even if he did it would be useless. Somehow both her and her brother inherited his stubborn trait. He struggled to form what he wanted to say. He stuttered for a moment before shutting up completely not to give himself having a hard time away.

She took another look at the city before her, taking in a deep breath before looking back at him. She hoped she knew what he was searching to say. “Even if I do find my parents, the only person whose daughter I am is yours”. She loosened her grip on his hand but he reached back. 

The Mandalorian felt his chest tighten up “Good”. 

He handed her the supplies they’d had packed and a tracking radar. “Trouble. Press that when you get in it”. 

Sabé let out a proud laugh, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be the one saving your ass one day. Remember that time on Bespin? I mean who runs into chaos in a place called Cloud City?”

“I’ve heard a few stories” Din pressed back, he was going to miss her humor. 

Father and daughter took one last look at each other. She let go of his hand and turned to begin her journey. Din turned as soon as she did and marched back to his ship. Neither of them turned for a final glance. Their determination kept them straight on their paths.

*14 years earlier* 

Din was sick of hiding on deserted planets, he felt too exposed, the empire could tear up every hut he built or sand pile he hid behind. He wasn’t going to endanger people like on Sorgan. He closely screened what was near him in the stars for hours. That’s when it appeared.

“Coruscant” Din whispered to the child behind him. His green ears propped up. “A city planet, a big one, crowded. Easy to blend in”.  He set the coordinates. “What do you say?” He asked the child knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. He had to hurry. They both needed to rest after what they had just been through. He needed to regain his strength and learn how to fly with his new equipment. 

It didn’t take long for a Mandalorian to find lodging there. The Galactic City had been through enough turmoil over the decades few asked questions. Once the Child was asleep Din removed his helmet. He scanned the scars and bruises on his face, he could live with them. The back of his head is what still worried him. The droid had done good work but it wasn’t going to last forever. He packed himself with his blasters and put on his face again to head out. Even if he had to travel to the underworld section he could find medical help on this planet. 

He wasn’t used to being able to walk around without people staring and scowling at him. It would take a while before he would be able to walk freely without his hand on his holster. Even late at night there was life everywhere. The taverns were filled to capacity and every street light was lit. There was so much noise and beggars tugging on his beskar he could feel his rage heightening. Until the screams caught his attention.

In the middle of the street he was chasing her. He was screaming terrified for her life, pathetic screams that made Din’s skin crawl. He heard the door closing over him and his parents faces disappearing when she screamed. Some bystanders in the streets tried to chase him but he pushed them off. He was closing in on her. The Mandalorian bolted after them.

The little girl ran into an ally to try and get away but the man caught up. “What’s the matter little girl?” he winced sticking out his tongue. “Come here pretty, pretty, pretty…” She was so terrified and exhausted she couldn’t do anything else but cry. The man began to lower to his knees to get close to her. She shut her eyes and covered her ears.

She didn’t even hear the blaster go off but she felt a thump on the ground next to her. Din quickly grabbed the man's body and tossed it as far as he could to avoid her seeing it. She turned to look.

“Hey!” Din said out of breath. 

The girl shot back around and saw him for the first time tears streaming down her face. She was petrified of whether he was good or bad. Din tried to relax his demeanor recognizing the terror in her body language.

He spoke softly, “It’s all right”.

////////

Hello! If you’ve made it this far thank you! This is my first ever fic in about 3 years so please excuse me if it’s off to a bad start! I hope you liked it! I love father/daughter stories so when I watched the show I couldn’t get writing this out of my head. I rushed it a bit because im tipsy and so excited to get into the meat of it lmao Hope you stick around for more.

#the mandalorian #fic #din djarin #baby yoda #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x oc #star wars #star wars fic #mandalorian fic #pedro pascal

[boogaloomagoo]

Whiskey Lullaby | Nic & Margot

We laid her next to him beneath the willow While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

This was a bad idea. This was a genuinely foolish, poorly thought out, half-baked idea that was going to get her killed. Why had she even thought this was something she should suggest carrying out in the first place?! Margot was practically pacing a hole into the motel sidewalk, in her human form for the time being but still making certain that she was in a fairly cornered, darkened area. God, she really fucked it up this time, didn't she? Sure, I'll be your bodyguard for a potential clan of werewolves that will come for blood! TOTALLY rational and doable! What the actual fuck!? Granted, she thought she could take on two of them by herself - she had in the past. But more than that, any more than that, or an unanticipated factor being thrown into the mix, and she was utterly screwed. Well, then again, it wasn't as though she would be fighting them off alone. The guy -- Nicodemus, right -- he seemed more than capable of handling himself. If worse came down to it, they could tag-team and potentially come out with few scars. Hopefully. Groaning in her throat, the blonde finally rounded a corner before coming face to face with a door. Yeah, this was his. He'd given her the number earlier. So, all she had to do was... Swallowing thickly, she raised a fist and, after hesitating with it mid-air, rapped on the door three times.

Nicodemus felt good about himself and that should have been the first warning sign: he never felt good about himself. Existence was simply there and he was a blood-meat vessel inside of it, chugging along. But with the bottle of the American Honey that Blanche sent him, he felt decent. He hummed. He decided early on once his mouth started tingling and his fingers felt warm that he should stop sharpening his knives. Safety first, for whatever the fuck that even mattered. Somewhere outside, he knew Margot was wandering about. That went beyond his understanding, her willingness to suddenly protect him at all costs. He didn’t get it and the more he thought about it, the more his brow creased and the humming in his throat cracked. At least she hadn’t called him a hero. He would’ve lost it right then and there. Found another hopeless tree to splinter and shatter until the destruction felt good. For now, with whiskey in him, he could allow that to be what made him feel good. Small allowances. His own humming distracted him from the knocking until he heard the final one. The whiskey was doing its job at blocking things out, it seemed. Grabbing a flannel shirt to throw on from his kaleidoscope box of them, he forego buttoning it as he peered through the eye-hole. Speak of the bear. He unslipped the lock and opened the door wide, a lazy, baby-sized smile on his face. “Evenin’ Gold. Slow night out there?”

The seconds that ticked by following her initial knock seemed to roll by in slow motion, as if time had slowed after the action itself had been carried out. Or perhaps that was how Margot's mind simply perceived it - caution coiling in every taught muscle, anxiety mounting like a shadowy figure looming behind her, fingers digging so tight into her bare upper arms so as to create the indents of very angry, equally anxious little moons in the pale skin. When her ears caught onto the muffled sound of a lock being undone, she attempted to straighten her posture from it's already ramrod state, jutting her chin out slightly and placing both hands on her hips - all in order to present an image of self-assurance and confidence instead of the frightened child muttering to herself about getting in trouble that lay just below the surface. When the door finally revealed her charge, however, her shoulders slumped a bit, brow furrowed lightly in mild confusion. He was... smiling? Okay, that was definitely a shift from the negative shifts of his lips about a week ago. Not that it didn't look nice on him, but -- why? "It... I guess you could, uh, say that..." And what was-- Gold? Something - displeasure, familiarity, a simple passing sensation - something clenched within Margot's gut upon hearing the nickname. Her eyes shifted to glance into what little of his room she could view, and the glint of something caught her eye - a bottle? Or two? Soon enough she was leaning in a bit to give a tentative sniff of the air around him. The scent of whiskey; faint, but unmistakable. That explained just about everything. The blonde could feel the corner of her mouth lift up in a partially amused smirk. "I'm guessing you're having a fairly good night so far?"

The hunter blinked languidly at the bugbear. His mouth felt dry and his tongue traced around his bottom lip as he sent a cursory glance to either side of the door. Nicodemus didn’t particularly care what it might’ve looked like to some shitty voyeur. Didn’t particularly care for much, regardless. But a care was still there somewhere. He returned to look at Margot, back straight and her posture screaming professionalism. All she needed was a badge and uniform, then she’d look ever the part. ‘Do you know how fast you were going?’ A low laugh started in his chest and he fought to keep it down, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. Damn, his cheeks felt warm and he bit his lip to draw the blood somewhere else. He hated that he was one of those blushy drinkers. “I don’t think there’s any wolves in the room,” he said, eyes casting up and to the right as he thought. He placed his hand low on his hip once more. She was smirking at him and dark brows rose when his eyes fell on her again. “Goin’ well so far, yeah. I’m enjoyin’ the fruits of my labor.” With his upper body turned, he gestured to the bottles of Wild Turkey American Honey. God bless Blanche Harlow and her fake ID. “At least I ain’t doin’ it dead ass in the middle of the woods somewhere. Then you’d really have your work cut out for you, huh?” He was talking a lot and not drinking enough, but now he had a guest and his expression brightened by a fraction. Southern hospitality and the need to pour himself another shot kept him locked between her and the doorway. “You allowed to drink on the job, Gold? Plenty for two.”

Blue eyes watched his facial expressions shift with a silent curiosity. Alcohol had such an intriguing effect on people - some could be swayed into a flurry of anger, others drowning in their sorrows the deeper they sank into a bottle. And then there were those whose spirits seemed to lift with each shot, higher and higher until they were floating happily on a cloud that nobody else but themselves could see. Where the hard lines were akin to rusted-gears that had seemed to ground out each furrow of his brow and every frown, there was now a smoothness, an ease with which his features rose and fell. He was definitely in a better mood than the night they met - although, Margot could argue that from their conversation online, he didn't exactly seem to be a person whose dander was always up. But to see him so obviously relaxed, possibly even, dare she say - bordering on a giggly drunk? "Yeah, I definitely would not recommend that. I'd hate to have someone catch a bear hauling a boozy guy back to his hotel room. Not that I'd mind," Or would she? Should she? There was far too much effort tacked onto that particular train of thought, and so Margot decided to focus on his offer instead. She quirked her mouth to the side, glancing over her shoulder as though someone of import might be watching their exchange. "I..." She hesitated for another beat before releasing the grip on her hips, nodding fervently. "Sure. Why not? It is a pretty slow night, after all," She noted with a small, appreciative smile up towards him.

He watched her thoughts cross over her face, a thoughtfulness to it that he wasn’t expecting. He had expected her to leave, go back to whatever post she had picked and leave him by himself. But she hadn’t and she was engaging with him. A lot of people were talking to him a lot more lately and Nicodemus didn’t know how to process it, like a kernel that wouldn’t come out of the garbage disposal. Kept clacking around in his head and confusing him. “Well, cher, you did say you were a big ass bear,” he said with a slow smirk of his own, his words heavy with Cajun drawl. “That sounds like somethin’ a big ass bear wouldn’t have a hard time doin’.” His fingers lightly tapped at the door frame as she considered his offer. Again, he’d expected a no. A quick getaway and a shrug, that was it. But then she was nodding at him and he fought hard to keep his mouth from parting in shock. Oh, she had agreed. What the fuck? Right, alright. He offered, she accepted. A smile shifted his shock away. Sometimes shit didn’t always go the wrong way and while he could barely grasp on that watery concept, droplets still remained on his fingertips. It took him a minute that felt like an hour before he cleared his throat and returned her nod with a slow, deliberate one of his own. He stepped back to the side and gave her space to enter. He wasn’t a particularly messy individual and he was glad that sober Nicodemus had bothered to put the knives and guns away in safe places. Very little in the room said much about him, aside from the snowglobes, whiskey bottles, and the half-read copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. His thumb traced the pulse in his neck. “Help yourself. Honey whiskey alright? Ain’t just askin’ because you’re a...” His voice lowered thoughtfully as he closed the door, a secretive smile tweaking the corners of his lips. “Y’know.”

Oh. Right. She had... actually referred to herself as that in their online conversation. Another effort to prove herself hardy enough to take on the task of being a competent guardian for him. Right. Sometimes, Margot truly did wonder why she chose certain phrases, but in reality most of them were taken from either television or what she'd heard other people around her age utilize. It just seemed like an accurate depiction at the time. "Exactly, totally what I am. So, not out of the realm of possibility at all," Was he all that surprised that she had accepted his offer? Perhaps. It wasn't as though either of them came off as particularly social, which actually worked a bit in her favor. He didn't seem the type to pry, and Margot wasn't fond of those who did. So far, everything was playing out smoothly. Stepping past the threshold into his room, her gaze idly found itself lingering on his frame for a moment, noting the unbuttoned flannel with a bit of familiarity. She herself had a cornucopia of them, varying patterns and makes, due to the functionality and comfort factors. Flannel was a good thing. Next she focused on the interior of the small room, hands once again finding purchase grasped onto her arms in front of her chest - a protective sort of stance, but not exactly defensive. Not at the moment. Oh, wow, had he really just...? A prompt snort flew past her lips, head tilted back to regard him with a quizzical yet amused expression. "I'm more of a berry girl, if we're being honest. But honey'll do just fine," Her own lips curved up of their own accord, arms lowered to hang a bit more loosely; guard slowly lowering. "Or was that a blonde reference? Goldilocks? Barbie? Hell, I could go on all night.”

Nicodemus held his hands up in mock surrender. "Won't catch me sayin' different." Fuck, it felt so strange to invite someone in. The smile and the heat up in his neck, living in his cheeks, were well and truly alive. But there was a cold in him that burned hotter than any fire that liquor could start. Frigid and near-death since before he knew what death meant. Loneliness is a shield, solitude is a weapon. If any of you isn't made of steel or iron, what use is it? Softness served nothing except the dead. It didn't serve him. Yet he clicked the door shut behind him, grabbed one of the plastic hotel cups, and started to pour honey into ice. "Nothin' pretty. In fact, it started lookin' cleaner after I got here." Fill the emptiness with noise. He took a sip and felt better. Did she just snort? Yup, he was feeling good again. Smiled at her as he offered her a clean cup. "Guess we're just gonna have to compromise then, huh?" The flush was there again and he moved away, occupied himself with the small gathering of things on his table. It didn't do well to idle. Too much could happen if he did. At her question, he turned back to look at Margot. "Your hair, uh, it's like gold. Honey gold. Whatever. Y'know what I mean. Don't think they have bugbear Barbie yet. " He shook his head and rubbed at the back of it. Tugged at the back of his flannel shirt. "Y'want ice?"

"Good," Margot fixed with a stern gaze void of any actual seriousness, the upturn of her lips giving that away quite easily. The step that she had taken, both physically and metaphorically, entering a portion of his life by going into his hotel room, was beginning to feel less daunting the more she took in the surroundings. They weren't unfamiliar; she and her father had stayed at the Traveler's when they initially arrived in town. And she could clearly recall not wishing to linger here any longer than they had to. Now, however, in a room that was obviously being more lived in compared to a one-night stay, there was a sort of... coziness, that couldn't be denied. Indeed it looked a lot cleaner than their room, a soft hum of approval at the insinuation. "I don't doubt that. I seriously didn't see one maid the couple nights I stayed here," Pale fingers rose to take the cup from him with a gentle thanks, glancing down into the contents before taking a sip. She couldn't help but shiver, face puckering as the sting rode it's way down her throat. And then he was mentioning her hair again and, in favor of focusing on his last question, she took a step towards him. "Do I know? Never had anyone call it honey gold before," She then tilted her head, allowing the loose waves to cascade a bit with the motion. She wouldn't deny it - Nicodemus intrigued her. All new people did, but based on how they had met, he could definitely be classified as a special case.

“I’ve got a running theory that the place is run by vamps and ghosts,” Nicodemus said, a slight conspiratorial edge to his tone. “I haven’t seen a soul since I got here.” He looked at her curiously. He knew little to nothing about her, but that was changing. She knew French, liked Secret of Nimh for some fucking reason, had her own little shack in the woods, and had stayed in the Traveler’s Rest as well. Whether or not that last one established some sort of camaraderie, he wasn’t sure. Staying at the place felt like passing through a certain veil into a next world. Or that was just the effect the town had on his head, let alone the whiskey. The whiskey that had her face puckering and he let out a little laugh. “Sure as shit ain’t berry, is it?” He wondered what the berry stuff she liked was and if it would be worth trying one day. That thought was short-lived. His brows pinched together as she stepped closer to him and he tipped his head back slightly to look down at her. Did she just shake her hair at him? The image of a bear once towering over him, fur splitting into gold, rooted him in place. A sip of his whiskey followed before he answered, his gaze holding hers. “”Spose you don’t,” he rumbled out with the slightest lift in his shoulders. “Probably haven’t had to play bodyguard for anyone either. Off to one hell of a start in a series of firsts, huh?” He smiled, his teeth making a rare appearance before they were gone just as quick. The hunter held the tip of his tongue between his canines. “Guessin’ that’s a no to the ice.” A step back and the space between them widened as he took a seat at the rickety table he tried to balance out with the bible from the nightstand. “Sure I’ve got some cards around here or somethin’...”

Ghosts were a concept she could readily agree with. They meandered the woods a great portion of the time, and in her bugbear form were not only visible, but could be interacted with as well. Some didn't care to pay Margot any attention, but there were those who would talk for hours, even when she couldn't technically communicate back. But they still remained a good company for the most part. Vampires, however - vamps - Margot couldn't help but seal her lips to contain the mounting laughter rising up her throat. Once she was certain she had a decent grasp on herself, she nodded, albeit a bit reluctant to admit that was the reason for not seeing anyone around. "Could be? Not that the ghosts I've met make it a habit of running motels, but, maybe that's a side-job they don't talk about," Observing Nicodemus, Margot came to the assumption that he likely had a 'running theory' about quite a lot that went on in White Crest. He didn't seem the type to be overly paranoid, maybe a healthy dosage like she herself possessed. Or was she attempting to find similarities that simply weren't there? Either way, she had gotten him to laugh, even if at a bit of her own expense - that was progress. She shook her head, lips smacking as the taste lingering on her tongue and a shiver ran through her frame. "Nope! Not even close... But this is good, too. Put's hair on your chest," Her palm thumped atop her own as if to prove the point, letting out a minor cough. Ah, there was that contemplative look, directed solely on her. She never felt the urge to wither beneath it, like when most men of his stature and demeanor would gaze at her. Then again, it was fairly obvious to her that Nicodemus didn't fit into the category of 'most men' at this juncture. "Not by choice, no. There were times, but... yeah, this is new. I don't regret it, though," She felt the need to tack that last part on quickly, fingers clenched a little tighter around the cup. When he distanced himself, she took a moment to wade through a thickness that felt far too similar to loss, and quickly tipped the remnants of her drink down her throat. Oof, that burned something fierce. Gasping out a rough exhale, she shook her head and followed after him - not sitting, but standing just a few feet across from where he rested. "If not, we could always play Never Have I Ever. I've heard it's a good game when you wanna get to know people," And I'd like to get to know you.

Nicodemus rubbed a hand over his bare jaw before he tapped at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Know many ghosts, huh?” Somewhere in him, beyond the steadily increasing tide of honey liquor, he recalled that bears and ghosts were familiar with each other. But it was a surface-level understanding. It was enough of one to get by with, enough of one to act on whenever the time and the money called for it. In his hotel room, with the air conditioner set to comfortably cool, time and money had little to do with him or Margot. “Don’t recall ever meetin’ one, so I ain’t puttin’ off ghost motel just yet,” he said offhandedly, a slim assured smile present. If he kept running theories, checking numbers, he wouldn’t get lost in thought. Getting lost in his head was a dangerous road to stumble on. It would lead him deeper into territory unknown, territory like not allowing death to come for a bugbear. He wondered what that meant for him. He didn’t believe in fate and nothing believed in him, yet...He looked at her. There it was, getting lost in thought. The hunter looked into his plastic whiskey glass like both an epiphany and an epilogue. It brought him back and he glanced up at her. Up at her because she was still standing. The familiarity of the moment wasn’t lost on him and for a breath of time, he just looked up at her. How the hell did either of them get there? What made him worth protecting and what made her worth saving? Thoughts and considerations so rusted in his head that they ground together like teeth in a restless sleep. And then he smirked. “Not regrettin’ it too much either. Y’know you can sit,” he said with a laugh like the hum of an engine. A machine loosened by the liquor in his gears, in his head. He slid his hand across the table to tap at the open spot across from him. “I won’t bite you or nothin’.” She wasn’t kidding when she said she preferred something smoother like berries. Even then, she still humored the heat he offered and that was a perplexing thought. Never Have I Ever. Reflexively, like blocking a hit, he sat up a touch straighter and loosely folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve never heard of that one,” he admitted but didn’t rebuff. He was curious. Slowly, he nodded. “How does it help you get to know people?”

"A few. Definitely way more here in White Crest," Which was saying something when you took into account that the world was literally teeming with ghosts to those who held the ability to see and interact with them. "They, uh, they're pretty conversational. Which kinda sucks because the most I can do is grunt and nod along to what they're saying," A bemused smile flitted across Margot's lips at the memories of her walks alongside those numerous spirits, and she nursed her bottom lip gently. "I could always shift and see where they hang out. Tell you which spots to avoid or, y'know, where they hide all the soaps and shampoos," A sly wink turned in his direction, peach-toned lips curving into a mischievous smile. She could certainly find plenty of ways to benefit him if she so chose to - the real question was why would she?

Did all of this stem from the fact that he had saved her? It seemed the only plausible explanation, mainly due to the fact that aside from her father and... well, nobody else had. Not in such a dire situation, where most others would have simply turned away and let nature run it's course. And then in a blur of screams and growls and blood and fur and torn flesh - he was there. She was growing uncomfortable with musing on the why's and the how's, though, because it never stopped at face value for her. She could tear away into the depths of people's motives, whether she needed to or not, and the possibilities, the never knowing, haunted her more than she could ever express. So, she wouldn't dwell. Now, she would sip at her whiskey, slide into the seat offered to her, settle back and regard Nicodemus as he simply was in the moment - a person. Though her brows arched in mild surprise at his next assurance. "Well, that's good to know. 'Cause I definitely bite back," She paused, then immediately chuckled, low and hearty, fingers loosely splayed in front of her lips. Whoa, where had that come from? Was it too forward? Fuck it - they were drinking whiskey in his motel room. Fuck verbal caution.

"Okay, so, it's basically a drinking game. One of us says something we've never done before. But if you have done it, you drink. And we go back and forth, yadda yadda, and in the end one or both of us just get entirely shit-faced. Sounds fun, right?" She had leaned forward a bit in her explanation, front row of teeth gleaming as she beamed at him, before motioning to her cup with a small quirk of her brows. "Gonna need a filler, though." Ghosts didn’t make any sense to him. A controversial thought considering what Nicodemus did for a living. People died and that was it. It didn’t pay to believe in anything that came after. He didn’t have anything to tether him to the world. Why Margot would smile about ghosts, he wasn’t sure, but she seemed...happy about it. Not that he was someone that could recognize happiness unless it pressed against the back of his eyes with a knife edge. But she looked happy about it and he got caught up in that thought, wound up tight that he didn’t speak for a long moment. “I don’t know about your bodyguard duties dipping into incorporeal territory, Gold,” he finally said with a raspy laugh. “But if I start feelin’ haunted, I’ll let you know.”

The pad of his thumb rubbed blindly against his fingers as he alternated them. A slow circle before he moved onto the next. The rest of him was motionless, yet some part of him always needed to be in motion. Perhaps that was why he hardly slept. He wouldn’t blame it on anything else, like a sudden resurgence of conscience or deep thought. ’Cause I definitely bite back. The hum in his throat caught and he threw back the rest of his drink to chase down any thought that was surging up. “Jesus fuck,” he coughed out as he adjusted in his sea to close the centermost button of his flannel shirt. He felt like fire, like burning itself. “Went down the wrong pipe, boy howdy.”

The hunter offered Margot a dry smirk, looking between her eyes and her hair. The latter, an odd object of fixation that he felt far more comfortable attributing to the drink in him than anything else. A drink that he needed more of. “Alright, I think I got the gist of it,” he said with a nod as he unscrewed the bottle and topped himself off. The hunter’s eyes focused on her cup as he leaned forward, his fingers on hers for a brief moment as he held her cup and filled it just the same as his. “Guess I’ll start?” He asked as he sat back, lifting his eyes to look at her. “Never have I ever...sang drunk karaoke.”

"Then you should've gotten the silver package. Comes with a guarantee of protection against 'Ghosts and Ghoulies' of all kinds. It's not too late to add it on, either. Just two easy payments of diner turkey clubs," Mmm, did she love those sandwiches. Then again, there wasn't much in the food department that she couldn't rightfully stand. But what surprised her more than the fact that he was willing to pay her in food was how... open, she currently felt. Not 'open' in the sense that Margot would be willing to spill every secret about herself to an... acquaintance? No, it was the much safer kind, the one that would ramble on about being a flannel aficionado and lover of all movies with Madeline Kahn.

Maybe it was the whiskey. The burn had filtered out after her last drink, leaving a pleasant warmth to reside in her limbs and belly and head. That familiar sensation of being grounded yet floating at the same time encompassed her entirely, and every time he would look her way, there was always a trace of a smile playing on her lips. Even when he seemed to choke on his own gulp, and she made a 'Pffft!' sound before covering her mouth with widened eyes. "Oh cripes, are you... yeah, you're fine, you're fiiine," Her momentary worry formed and dissipated in the same blink of an eye, hers finding themselves lingering on the fingers buttoning his shirt before shifting to her cup.

Then he was filling her cup, which apparently meant that his large fingers find purchase around her slim ones. The digits didn't tense, for once, instead focused on the sensation, savoring it for a later memory that might mean something or nothing at all. This time there wasn't a coldness to his retreat, just a tingle along the skin as she raised the cup slightly, already prepped to take a sip. And down it went with his first Never, the corners of her mouth raised high in fond recollection. "It was the summer of 2013," She began after lowering the drink, tongue prodding the corner of her mouth, "My dad and I had literally just... stopped at this bar after our shift - we worked at the same welding factory, then - and it just so happened to be Karaoke night. We were a couple beers in since we lived within walking distance of our place, and, I kinda gave my dad this look... I had to drag him on stage, but, eventually we got up there and belted out Queen. God, I wish I had a camera for it, we. Were. Amazing," Margot chuckled at the memory, before righting herself in the chair and clearing her throat. "Okay, okay. Never have I ever... gotten so drunk I blacked out."

“Oh, now I gotta upgrade? I think you’re startin’ to swindle me here, Gold,” Nicodemus huffed, his shoulders shaking with the quiet laugh. With the liquor burning in him, it felt alright to laugh. It almost felt alright to live. With the fire in him, he wasn’t as much of a rundown cathedral of fallacies. Lost to time, lost to decay. Mossgrown and tired. His skin felt alive under his own fingers, pads tracing lines and faint scars across his palm. “Here I thought you were just wantin’ to put that you donated to charity on your tax forms by bein’ here.“ His laughter continued in spite of his own self-degradation. He was untouchable. He was damn near as open as a church on Sunday, yet one door still remained closed.

He swallowed down the irritation of his throat and chose to numb it with more whiskey. That was how it worked. That was how it always worked, didn’t it? “It ain’t gonna be this that kills me.” He half-assedly raised his plastic glass like a false king. A king of nothing, not even the lone inheritance to the Bossier name, and there was freedom in that. As small as it was, considering the way he willingly bound himself to the life of hunting. The Bossier name meant little, but he took pride in what he did. He looked at her. It wouldn’t be the booze that killed him. Maybe it would be letting someone in. He passed that thought over and leaned in.

Margot was a great storyteller. Far better than he was. She didn’t stumble over her words quite like he did, or answer in minute grunts when someone laid their life out for him. There was a liveliness to the way she spoke that kept him focused entirely on her, his fingers no longer swirling and his heel no longer bouncing. She spoke of her father with such fondness that he almost felt that ugly green creep up. He didn’t know his dad and considering the way he fucked off to nowhere, it didn’t matter. But her story did and he smiled down at the table when she finished, his hand against his neck as he learned. At her next Never he grunted and shrugged, throwing back a quarter of his own drink. “Once. It’s real hard for me to get there, constitution an’ all, but hoo boy, when I got there, I got there,” he said with a shake of his head. “I was headin’ out of New Orleans for the last time and I hit up Bourbon Street. It’s, uh, notorious for its indecency. Anyhow, I just kept drinking at bars until they kicked me out and I just made my way down.” He pantomimed walking down the street with two fingers. “Stopped by every bar. I think it was the second to last where I don’t remember what happened. Woke up in an alley with beads and, uh, someone’s bra across me like a bandolier. Might’ve been two.” His face heated at the memory. It didn’t occur to him to consider how he got there. That he had heavily thought about smothering his mindless grandfather just an hour before he took to the street. “Alright, alright. Think I’m gettin’ the gist. Never have I ever...Never have I ever been awake for two days straight.”

The smile that began inching across the stretch of Margot's lips was soaked in impish glee, tongue poking out to dip across and savor the lingering hint of whiskey. At heart, she yearned to enjoy life - had been brought up to believe that in the most quaint and quiet and simple of environments, lay the most cherished of memories made, and for the making. The closed off exterior lent itself for others to believe the opposite. She was a paranoid shut-in whose only solace was finding out new ways to seal herself off from the world and it's many, many dangers. Her father had inadvertently aided in creating that image, though she knew it was born from the right reasons. They had no other means of protecting themselves where physical altercations weren't concerned. "You don't 'gotta', just a suggestion. I'm looking out for you here, dude.”

The idea of Nicodemus being a charity case struck a sour chord, and her smile faltered slightly, eyes lowering to stare down at her cup. With the air of calm bemusement that settled between them, she idly wondered if this was solely being done out of regard for his safety. Right now, she was enjoying herself, enjoying another's company. That... just didn't happen very often in her life. Not outside of herself and her father.

Obviously he had fallen prey to her next Never, and she watched with eager fascination as he downed his own gulp, awaiting the story behind his reaction. Already she felt the beginnings of a smile curl upon her lips, but she attempted to stave it off for as long as possible. Though she couldn't stop a snort from arising from her, head bowed slightly. "Mm, that's... definitely interesting," She would have asked what size bra it was, but he seemed sufficiently bashful about the entire ordeal, so she wouldn't pry for the time being. Still it was enough for her to snicker lightly. Until his next Never. Her laughter trailed off into silence, and she tilted her cup with loose fingers before raising it to her lips in a long swig. Not pleasant. "Definitely done that before. Not because I wanted to.”

The strangeness of the situation settled over Nicodemus as he watched Margot smile and much like when someone cried around him, the inebriated felt compelled to match it. His large hand wrapped around the small plastic cup as he tapped out a nameless rhythm. No gun in his hand, no knife between his teeth. Somewhere else, he might've felt vulnerable. On edge and looking for an out. But he didn't. He didn't think whiskey was the reason for that. Why he felt comfortable around Margot, he wasn't sure and that uncertainty made his fingers tap. Tap not clench. She didn't have to give a shit that danger was lurking for him around every corner, under every crack. He himself didn't give a shit. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he mumbled, looking down. "Still gettin' used to that shit."

Her demeanor shifted and he frowned at himself. Rude and dismissive, he absolutely could be. A lifetime of no social contact other than his grandparents and the occasional stranger in the front yard with hard eyes had left him ill-prepared for company. A killing machine, yes, but a social butterfly? He was a hornet. To consider being anything else was death.

They were drinking again and he welcomed the burn of distraction. "Interestin' is a word for it, yeah." He rumbled when he laughed, slim crows feet landing at the corners of his eyes. Nose scrunched. The hunter shifted as she downed her next Never. Suddenly, he wasn't interested in the next Never and more interested in the story behind what she didn't say. Her response said enough. "Ain't keen on it either if I'm bein' honest with you, Gold. Don't sleep much these days. This," he paused as he added a little more to his cup. "Is supposed to help. Mostly doesn't, but hey, placebos been around long enough, ain't they?" His tongue prodded his bottom lip as he chewed over the question. "Can I ask what happened?"

Margot could have guessed the exact words before they formed in his throat. It was only fair, considering that they had both divulged the details of their respective Nevers thus far. Of course, she also hadn’t meant for the game to take such a three-sixty where it concerned the mood of said truths. Margot’s lips twitched to the side, becoming a tightly clamped seal. Her hesitance was worn like a flashy outer garment - there was no need to hide it, and with Nic being as perceptive as she believed him to be, it wouldn’t have done any good either way. Her chest felt suddenly far too tight, as if the whiskey had burned too deep, siphoning a portion of air from her lungs. Constricted and in desperate need of release. She exhaled, long and slow through her nose, before forcing a smile onto her features. One that appeared almost as pained as she felt.

“You make a habit out of something, you’re bound to make yourself believe in it. Hell, maybe it actually does work in some weird, twisted way. Enough that you don’t stop,” She wasn’t directly referring to Nic or his issues with alcohol, nor would she ever. Vices were, and should be, to each their own. Her father had them, her mother once, and she certainly held a fair amount. Coping was coping - whether a mechanism or a method.

Talking things out was supposedly a method. A shitty one, far as she was concerned. But, the game was the game. “I was thirteen. And… we had just moved. Again. Maybe the fifth time… Sixth? No, no fifth, I remember. We’d come from Dulvey - it was so fucking humid, and we were in the car, sweating out every ounce of water we’d poured into ourselves. ‘Cause the air condition had stopped working a while back, and we never got the chance to fix it. Not before dad… had his feeling,” A bitterness laced the word, lines reminiscent of a scowl forming along each side of her lips. “See, after… stuff happened, my dad got real paranoid about hunters. Not animal ones - hunters who go after people like me. People who aren’t people, in their eyes. And he swore we were about to be found out by this group of guys he worked with. Said they were asking him too many questions, didn’t like the way they’d look at me when I stopped by to visit him. So, we packed the little we had and just... left. We were living out of a motel at the time, barely stayed longer than four months. We never stayed in one place very long. And dad… God, he was so fucking tired. And I knew how to drive, so I did. Three days, we just drove. Or we’d stop and rest, but when he thought I was asleep, I never was. I couldn’t. ‘Cause all I could think of was ‘The moment I close my eyes, they’ll catch us. The moment I let my guard down, that’s when they’ll come’. So we drove, and I didn’t sleep until we made it to the next state. And even then it felt wrong,”

By the time Margot had finished, her body had sagged, eyes slightly hazy as they stared listlessly at the table below her. She should come up with another Never, a part of her mind echoed. But the other half wondered what the point was to all of it. To any of it. 

Nicodemus watched her without blinking. As warm as the whiskey had made him feel, it seeped out of him fingers first. Not at all unlike the dispassionate cold in which he rounded up still-warm bodies and dropped them off. Not at all unlike cold, crisp dollars in his hand. In his pocket. Supposed he made a habit out of that too. But he didn't believe in it. Didn't believe in anything. He believed in the certainty of an odd number of bullets and the evens that leveled out at the end. His jaw tightened to a painful, sharp angle. He let go of the cup before the plastic started to crack but not before he tipped it back down his throat. His bad habit. He pulled away from the table, receded like a slow wave. A sick sense of humor burned his belly like acid as he listened to her tell her story, tell her fears, tell her tragedy. Hadn't his started the same? The death of a mother. The fear, the uncertainty, the knife's edge of oblivion that whispered a moon song. The kind of song that kept him dancing, blood like ribbons around his wrists. Or chains. When he closed his eyes thirty years ago, sleep evaded him. Sleep was where the demons came. Vulnerability was an open door, for either a hand to hold you or a hand to bite you. Either one could end it all. Bite his own hand and he could suffer alone. Decades old scars patterned his palms, cut off his lifelines before. Disconnected him from the then and the now.

As she finished, near lifeless and colorless, he said nothing. Maybe that was the knife. Maybe that was why he never asked for names. Names meant something. Completed faces and eyes in a way that unnerved him. The hunter exhaled a slow, steady breath through his nose as he finally allowed himself to blink. She looked at the table as he looked at her. His eyes narrowed. His tongue pressed against the sharp point of his teeth until he tasted his own blood and swallowed it. The poor excuse of a fan overhead circled precariously. His eyes slid past her, to the dim clock on the table. To the slip of a moon peeking in through the curtains that never closed right. Warmth crept in at his neck. His hands slid to the table. A lone finger began to tap dully against the wood. The finger just to the right of his trigger finger. She must have had an idea what he was. How he tore a wolf in two with just a silver knife and that damnable Bossier spirit. The one he couldn't seem to exorcise himself of. If you bleed, make the other bleed more. Wordlessly, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and drank it entirely. He screwed the cap back on and set it down. Now well-oiled, Nic cracked open his iron jaw.

"Fear keeps you awake. Sometimes you have to kill it to sleep at night."

His voice was low, devoid of that mirth from before. Why didn't she just tear him in two if she even had the inkling of what he was? She could do it. Her bite was stronger. For as hard as his eyes were, the edges of his face softened. Waned under her presence.

"If I put my head down right now…" he glanced back to look at the misshapen form of a pillow behind him. "What's gonna happen, Margot?"

As easily as the game had begun, it had slowed to a halt. If anyone recognized that all good things came to an end, it was Margot. The moment he had asked, the second the story came to mind, the aching pause before it had finally rose in her throat - all frustration and bitter bile waiting to be expelled, not viciously, not spat; it drooled from her, drained thick and heavy and cloying, unending like the searing road had stretched over those long three days. No matter how many times she had repeated the entirety of events inside of her head, it never seemed to be enough. And like a poison of the stomach, it churned and circled and only grew in acidity until it seemed to eat away at her from the inside out. She had emotionally vomited right in front of a man who she had seen only once before, had seen bare and exposed, had talked to even less. And her belly still ached from the purge.

She didn't watch him, or maybe it was couldn't. More had been said between them than the simple telling of a story; she was certain he had to be aware of that. Nic wasn't stupid. That was both a relief, and a blatant danger. And the longer she sat with him, becoming aware of his mannerisms, his voice, had traced the sharp edge of his jaw when it thrust against skin and was certain it could cut diamond if he wished to do so, the more she began to realize that her forced naivety could not, and would no longer last. He was what he was, what they all were, and she had come to that realization before they sat at a table together in a crappy motel room. It dawned on her the moment he decided not to kill her.

Why did that seem so long ago, now?

Her gaze finally lifted, only to flicker to the bottle as it was hefted into a firm grasp and emptied of its remaining drops. Not unlike the second he drained the life force from that wolf. Swift, and decisive. Yes, that's what he was. There was no more room for a maybe. And she was, and suddenly stood once his question had lingered a few moments into the silence between them. For all the listlessness that had been her form prior, Margot righted herself fully; tall, proud, sharp. Blue gaze locked onto his features as she inhaled, fingers curling towards her palm atop the rickety surface. “I told you,” Exhale; fingers slowly splayed out as she approached him, the edge of the grey cardigan draped around her shoulders brushing against his arm. A small, almost sad smile formed, features softening in… it wasn’t understanding, but acceptance. 

“I’ll protect you,”

#para: nic #para: whiskey lullaby #//aka 'Lora kills Ash many times over'

[phoenixsavant]

Jumin’s Route: Day 1

Picking up after the prologue.

               Jumin scoffed to himself as he prepared for bed.  Zen had made a proper fool of himself. Yoosung could be somewhat excused, given his age and lack of life experience.  Zen should have known better than to throw himself at the newcomer though. For all that went, Seven wasn’t exactly reserved either.  

               “I wonder if I should speak to them, Elizabeth,” he murmured to the sleek, white body at the foot of his bed.  He sat beside her.  “This is all very strange and possibly dangerous.  They should exercise a little caution.”

               “Mrow?”

               “Hmm, you’re right.  We won’t find out anything by being too distant. There should be a balance, as in all things.  Still, don’t you agree this is highly unusual?  What could it mean that she is in Rika’s apartment, and how do we determine if she’s a friend or a threat?”

               Elizabeth purred, stretched, and closed her eyes.

               “Yes, rest first, and then we shall have answers. You’re quite right.”  He reached to turn out his light but was stopped by the sudden ringing of his phone.  He picked it up, expecting Assistant Kang, and was surprised to see MC’s name on the display instead.  

               Surprised, but curious, he answered the call. “Jumin Han speaking.”

               “This is MC.”

               “My phone has caller ID.  But I like the fact that you identified yourself.  So, to what do I owe this call?”  His own words of caution echoed through his thoughts. He must be careful not to betray any information to this stranger while drawing out whatever he could about her.

               When she said she was just wondering what he was doing, he felt vaguely annoyed.  Who called someone they did not know, had not properly met, after midnight?  He spoke calmly, but clearly, putting her in her place and ensuring that she would understand that he was not someone who would take such calls in the future.

               She apologized almost instantly, and he felt bad for basically having scolded another adult. “I should say something positive to her,” he thought.  “I admire your courage,” was the best he could find to say about the bold stranger on the phone.  Yet, habit was a stronger force than even Jumin Han, and he reverted immediately to reminding her not to call unless there was an emergency.

               “That is not how to give feedback.  I just did it in reverse.  I must resolve this,” his thoughts demanded of him.  He added on, “Oh, however, I hope you are not foolish enough to not call me during an emergency just because I said this.”  

“Have I become the robot they accuse me of being?” he wondered.  

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try to be a little more friendly.  If MC had been duped into entering Rika’s apartment, she might be feeling frightened right now.  Perhaps she had called just to hear another voice, and why wouldn’t she call him before the others?  With compassion now guiding him, Jumin quickly made up something to say.  “I was thinking about what to do with this wallpaper,” he explained.  “Striped wallpapers are better…”  He explained how stripes can be better at calming people when they are uneasy, hoping that it might give MC an idea for easing her nerves.  Considering that the walls at Rika’s apartment might not have stripes, he offered to have the wallpaper changed for her.  

“Yes, I think that will do for now.  If MC follows my suggestion, she’ll find something with stripes to look at so that she can feel calmer,” he smiled to himself, glad to have had something worthwhile to offer.  “Don’t stay up too late,” he said gently.  “Now good night.”  

The call ended, he placed the phone back on his nightstand and turned out the light.  “Come to bed, Elizabeth,” he called to the dark room.  

The softness of Elizabeth’s hair brushed against his arm before she leaned against him, laying as she did every night.  She purred softly again, a sound that always ensured sleep would come quickly for him.  Tonight, however, his mind replayed a sound he’d heard, a clear note in the cacophony of his life.

“I am MC.”

 Morning

               Jumin readied himself for work, following his usual routine.  Each step served the purpose of preparing him physically and mentally for the long hours he would work.  He enjoyed routine, thrived on it even, finding an almost spiritual peace in the series of small rituals.

               This morning, though, the routine was disrupted by thoughts of MC’s sudden appearance and the surprise phone call late at night.  He showered and wondered if she’d rested well in the strange surroundings at Rika’s apartment.  He ate breakfast and wondered if she had anything to eat.  He dressed and wondered whether he should check on her.

               While feeding Elizabeth, he took out his phone and opened the app.  Zen was already in the chat, and it seemed that MC had been through a few times.  It seemed Yoosung had spoken before playing LOLOL again, and Assistant Kang had made sure to impart some words of wisdom regarding the role of part coordinator.  Zen had, of course, flirted with her, taking the opportunity to see how much MC thought of him and complaining about not having a girlfriend.  Yoosung had then complained about the same.

               “With those two around, she’s going to take off and we’ll never solve the mystery,” he said to Elizabeth.  He shook his head at their desperation.  “I can’t imagine what MC must be thinking of all of us after their performances.”

               Suddenly, the phone flickered, drawing his eyes back to the chat.  MC had arrived.  

               “Jumin, don’t you have to go to work?” MC asked.

               “Hmm, she is perhaps more aware of the realities of life than I imagined her to be,” he considered.  “I was about to,” he typed.

               Zen annoyed him, though, and so he resorted to the one thing he knew would make the actor complain.  He posted a picture of Elizabeth.

               MC’s immediate reaction, “Wow! So pretty!” brought a smile to Jumin’s face.  Of course Elizabeth was pretty.  It was nice to see someone else – someone other than Seven – admit it.  

               Zen, however, was not about to allow Jumin to speak of Elizabeth without interrupting.  When he read Zen’s words about how Jumin treated his employees, he responded by trying to explain that when there’s a business relationship, you don’t expect affection in it.  It’s business and nothing more.

               “Isn’t it natural to just work as much as you get paid?” MC asked.

               “Oh, good for her!  So few people truly grasp this simple concept!”

               “That is correct,” he replied.

               “Elizabeth, dearest, I do think that Zen says some of these things just to have something negative to say about me,” he commented. With a smirk he typed back, “They should be honored to be my slaves.  They are probably tears of joy.”  

               Jumin coughed in surprise at MC’s response.  

               “I’m pretty sure it’s tears of joy +_+”

               “Oh, this could be quite entertaining, Elizabeth. It seems MC understands my sense of humor!”  He chuckled audibly as he responded, pressing the joke forward, just to see what she would do.

               Zen made it impossible for the playfulness to carry forward and Jumin left the chat, still smiling.  MC found Elizabeth attractive – which meant she could see clearly. But she’d joined in on his joke and encouraged it.  Had that been deliberate?  He would have to find out.

               Looking at the clock, he realized his driver was late. With a sigh, he called and found out there had been an accident.  Driver Kim was nearby, but unable to get through.  Well, such things do happen at times.

               With nothing else to do, he sent a message to MC, attempting to complete his original goal and check on her well-being.

               “Did you have breakfast yet?” he asked.

               Her response did not answer the question but instead commented on how well he took care of himself.  Finding it odd, he answered, “Isn’t it expected?”

               Seeing that she was in the chat room again, he returned there.  He sighed as if someone had just spilled paint on his floors.  Seven was in the chat.

               Seven was not perhaps Jumin’s favorite person. He was a menace where Elizabeth’s safety was concerned.  At least he could speak freely about Elizabeth, and cats in general, when Seven was present.  When MC again expressed appreciation for Elizabeth’s beauty, Jumin smiled.  

               Somehow the conversation switched to Seven’s work. It seemed to Jumin that MC became quieter, as if avoiding interacting with Seven. He tried to suggest that she could trust Seven, but when the hacker started talking about returning to Jumin’s home, he couldn’t help but deliver strict warnings.  He liked the young man, but he didn’t trust him not to make trouble. “Not that I think this way without reason.”  He wondered if MC would take his advice, or if he should deliver a stronger warning.

               Before he could decide, a knock at the door alerted him to the arrival of Driver Kim.  Bidding farewell to MC, Jumin once more left the chat and turned to face the day, for which he was now late.  As soon as he was in the car though, he found himself sending another message to MC. This time, she agreed even privately that cats were the best animals.  She must mean it, and no one who appreciated cats could be bad.

               “I’m glad to meet a friend,” he replied sincerely, deciding that whatever else was happening, MC was now a friend, at the least a fellow lover of feline grace and beauty.

Midday

               His day at the office dragged more than usual. As his lunch hour arrived, he checked the chat.  He’d been thinking about MC all morning, dissatisfied that they’d had to break off their conversation.  It was so rare to find someone who truly appreciated cats, and the prospect of finally knowing someone else who felt as he did was exhilarating.

               Opening the RFA chat again, Jumin scanned over the logs.  Yoosung had complained about V again. He frowned.  “I must find a way to get him over this fixation,” he murmured to his empty office.  

He saw that Jaehee had also spoken to MC about the party.  It was commendable that his assistant showed interest in assuring MC had a clear concept of what to do for the party, even if she should have been working on the reports for his meeting tomorrow morning. Still, it was good to see that MC seemed to be taking her new position seriously.  He appreciated people who could handle tasks with competence.

               “Hello, Jumin.” MC’s message chimed brightly, and Jumin’s lips tugged into a thoughtful smile.  This would make his quiet meal alone much nicer, having her to talk to.  He returned the greeting and congratulated her again on joining

               “It’s easy to enter, but leaving won’t be so easy.”  Jumin frowned at himself as soon as he sent the message.  “That will sound threatening.  Why did I say that to her?”  

               Thankfully she didn’t seem to take it as a threat, only asking him why.  He tried to think quickly, but only managed to add that MC was in Rika’s apartment with all the confidential information around.  With a groan, Jumin changed his approach.  Why was he so clumsy when speaking to this person?  Was it just because she was new?

               “I hope that you’ll take on the task and continue her work without any trouble,” he concluded.

               “Don’t worry.  I’ll do a good job,” she replied.

“Confidence in her abilities,” he mused.  “I hope she’s not over-confident.”  His fingers froze as he sent a message without thinking.  “If you do a good job…” Blinking at the screen on his phone, Jumin realized that he’d been about to type in something about meeting her. He backed out the message and added, “We’ll get to host parties again. Don’t you want to make memories you’ll never forget?”  

“I’d like to do it with you, Jumin.”

His fork froze halfway to his mouth.  His eyes widened and he sucked in air suddenly.  “No, that can’t be what she means. She hasn’t even met me.  She must have misspoken.”  He calmed his suddenly racing heartbeat before replying, thankful for the protective veil of the chat room where no one could see any response but the one he crafted.  

A glance at the clock on his desk revealed that his lunch hour was rapidly drawing to a close.  If he were to finish his meal properly, he would need to put the phone down.  His nutritionist had cautioned him many times that he needed to allow himself the eat his meals without work or other distractions so that his body could process the food at maximum capacity.  

It didn’t seem right to simply bow out though, so he explained quickly that he would be too busy to be in the chat much, but Jaehee was able to help in his absence.  Placing the phone with the screen down, he took up his fork again.

…with you, Jumin

The words rolled through his mind like a stray breeze, stirring places within the mind of Jumin Han that had been disused for so long, they seemed overgrown with cobwebs.  He didn’t taste the rest of his meal and drank far more water than usual. For some reason, his throat kept feeling very tight.  

Evening

Had there ever been a longer day?  Despite leaving for the office late, and closing the door behind him as he turned for home at a reasonable hour, the day had crawled by.  As Driver Kim pulled the car into traffic, Jumin tugged his tie loose with a heavy sigh.

“There’s been an accident, sir.  I apologize, but we’ll be a bit delayed getting you home tonight.”  

“These things happen,” Jumin answered.  “Please keep me posted if there is any additional delay.”

Driver Kim nodded and slid the glass partition closed.

Alone in the silence of his car, Jumin found his phone and checked over the notifications.  On impulse, he opened the RFA app and called MC.  He hadn’t spoken to her since lunch and wasn’t up to the chat room, but he wanted to check on her all the same.  

He greeted her politely and offered to take a single question from her, expecting her to have at least one to ask about the RFA or the party.  

“How does my voice sound?” MC asked.

Jumin paused, startled at the unexpected query.  He smiled, amused at the idea of being asked to review the voice of a stranger.  “… Speak again, slowly,” he instructed.

“Ju-min Han,” MC said, slowly, her voice soft as it drew goosebumps across his arms.

He fought back a cough as he replied.  “I didn’t expect you to say my name.  You’re quite bold for a newcomer.  That was a bit of a surprise.”  Words tumbled from his lips into the phone as he pulled the first two buttons of his shirt loose.  It was terribly stuffy in the car today.  Had Driver Kim neglected to turn on the air?  

Jumin reigned in his rambling about meetings to add in the answer to the question he’d been asked, expressing that MC’s voice was as nice as Elizabeth’s.  He shook his head at himself.  What an odd thing to say.  It was true, but even so…

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

This was another unexpected moment from the new RFA member.  Jumin wasn’t used to people continuing to ask questions after he’d stated that he would only take one.  Taken aback he agreed to answer the second question, but cautioned that he would not allow such liberties again.

Having mentioned that MC’s voice was as nice as Elizabeth’s, Jumin found himself missing his furry companion and expressed that he was anxious to get home to see her.

“You talk as if your cat is a person,” MC remarked.

“Of course.  Who else do you think I’d treasure so much other than her?” he asked while noting that MC’s voice held no trace of judgement against him for caring so much about Elizabeth.  With that consideration, he offered to continue the conversation.

MC asked how old he was, if he was the oldest in the RFA, both simple questions he answered easily.  Her voice was more than good, it was quite entrancing if he were to be honest.  It wouldn’t do to tell her so, not yet, but he found himself relaxing as they spoke.

Before he knew it, Driver Kim stopped the car and a glance out the window showed that he’d arrived home.  As he began to end the call, MC stated that she wished they could continue speaking, and he found himself feeling similarly.  “I’ll call you when I have time,” he promised, hanging up his phone as Driver Kim opened the door.  

“I am home, Elizabeth,” he called, slipping his shoes off.  He felt an unusually pleased smile at the sound of his cat’s voice, calling to him before she appeared from the bedroom.  “Hello, my dear.  Have you had a good day?”

“Mrow,” she answered, butting her head against his extended palm.  

“I have heard a voice that is almost as nice as yours today,” he informed her.  “Yours is still better, I can assure you with confidence, but it has surprised me.”  With a scratch behind the ears, he rose.  “Let’s get your brush, little one.”  

This was one of the best parts of the day for Jumin.  Drawing the brush through Elizabeth’s soft hair, exactly ten strokes on every side to ensure a healthy coat and skin, soothed even the deepest stresses away.  She purred gently beneath his touch.  It was as if her contentment spread through him, and he welcomed it.  

With Elizabeth brushed, Jumin turned to his dinner.  He chuckled when Elizabeth followed his evening grooming by jumping into the chair nearest him and bathing herself thoroughly.  “I never do it quite so well as you, is that it?” he asked in amusement.  

Evening settled softly over the city, turning the skies to a rainbow of gold and lavender.  Jumin opened his phone and saw new emails waiting for responses from the office. With a groan, he skipped past the notifications and opened the RFA chat.  As he hoped, MC was there.  So was Zen, and Jumin rolled his eyes.  

“Do you even know what sentimental means?” he asked.  The following emoji made clear that the actor didn’t truly know the meaning of the word, as Jumin suspected.  

“I should probably feel bad about this,” he commented to Elizabeth as she settled her back against his thigh.  “But honestly, Zen just responds so easily to everything.  I can’t seem to resist the urge.”

“It’s because of MC,” Jumin sent. Then he added, “Usually Zen is busy annoying me.”

With a smirk, he saw Zen begin to react.  It was just too easy to tease him.  

“Is it good that I’m here with you guys?” MC asked.

“Time will tell the net profit,” Jumin answered, calmly calculating his words to prod Zen further.

“If MC can’t handle Rika’s work very well, then she’s good for nothing.  Just like Zen.”  

He expected, having spoken to her and trusting his ability to read people, MC would know he didn’t think poorly of her.  Whether she’d understand he was only tormenting Zen or not, he was unsure, but he didn’t want her to think he had a bad opinion of her.  

“I first intend to try my best,” MC assured the two men.

“I wonder if MC will do well…?” Jumin mused.  He hoped she would.  That would mean having the parties to add a sense of meaning beyond C&R to his life, and a chance to meet her in person.  He wondered if she was as easy to look at as her voice had been to listen to.

“If I try my best, then everything will be good.”

“I like the answer.”  Jumin smiled warmly at her determined and confident response.  

Zen announced he had to go and meet with his director and Jumin noticed that Elizabeth had begun to give him signals that she was ready for her dinner.

“I should go and provide Elizabeth her meal,” he explained.

“Tell your cat hello, Jumin.”

MC’s words made him blink in mild confusion.  She hadn’t met Elizabeth, so would it do any good to pass the greeting along?  He glanced down at the sleek, white body beside him.

“Hmm.  I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.”

Jumin stretched as he stood, calling Elizabeth to her dinner.  He lowered her bowl to the feeding mat and paused. “I know you haven’t met her, but MC has asked that I tell you hello.  I feel you’ll meet her someday though, so perhaps you’d like to know that she’s already considerate in regard to you.”  

Elizabeth sniffed delicately at her food and looked up as Jumin spoke.  “Mau,” she remarked calmly before beginning to eat.

“Hmm, you’re… you’re welcome.  I wasn’t sure if you’d appreciate being greeted so by a stranger.  I’m happy it pleases you.”  

No sooner had Jumin cleared away Elizabeth’s dish than his phone rang.  MC was calling him?  He smiled and answered the call, being free at the moment.  He was unprepared for MC to ask whether he’d had dinner or not.  It was not often that anyone thought to ask him about his meals. Still, as she had taken time to call and ask, it was probably best that he make a suggestion for her own meal. With a glance at the freshly washed dish, he recommended salmon, because Elizabeth enjoyed it so much.  

“If your palate is just as sophisticated, I’m sure you and I will make fine meal partners,” he commented.  “Why did I say that?  She’ll think I’m asking her to dinner!”

Seeking an escape, he explained that this was his personal break time and that he didn’t usually take calls at this hour.  He ended the call, shaking his head at himself.  He’d been polite enough with her, but again he’d offered more than he intended.  “I shall merely have to be more aware when speaking to her.  My place is only to watch over her and ensure she has what she needs to manage the invitation process for a party, should V decide we will have one.”  

His mind wandered back to the point he’d made in the chat, that if there was no party, there would be no reason to have her with the RFA and she would likely be removed from the app.  The thought made him frown, though he wasn’t sure why, aside from his own – admittedly unusual – curiosity.

Feeling restless, Jumin decided to go to the gym.  It was not his usual time for exercise, but he knew that the physical exertion would calm his mind again.  As the treadmill rolled its track beneath his feet, he let his thoughts roam freely.  

That V had allowed a stranger, someone who shouldn’t have had access to the RFA app, to remain among them was odd.  He hadn’t answered Jumin’s questions, nor had he called.  All he’d done was ask Jumin to watch over the newcomer. “To what end?”  

Though generally considered distant, Jumin was not a cold man.  It seemed cruel to offer friendship and inclusion to someone while also leaving the possibility of removing all of that at a moment’s notice.  Besides, wouldn’t it be better for the RFA to hold the parties if it were determined that MC was no threat to the group or its members?  Truth be told, he had missed the excitement and the activity that came with the extravagant gatherings.  Most parties he attended left him wishing only to be left at home for days, but the RFA parties were different.  

“Then what I need to do is ensure that we do hold parties again.  If I do that, there won’t be a reason to remove MC, she will have us as friends and we will have our purpose again.”  He stepped off the treadmill and called the only person he knew who might object strongly enough to sway V against the idea.

After the third call went to voicemail, Jumin frowned.  Jaehee did not typically avoid his calls.  This was bothersome.  Not that he minded not having to hear the voice that was so tied to the office, but he needed to be certain that she was on board.

Returning to his penthouse, Jumin showered and opened the app again.  He’d been in the chat room more today than in recent months, but now he had a mission.  Now he was intent on securing MC’s position in the RFA.  

Thankfully, his assistant was in the chat, as was MC.  Before he could raise the question, Jaehee asked if he’d called earlier.  Taking the opening he asked, “I was curious if anyone was against hosting the party again.  The person most likely to be against it is Assistant Kang.”

“Why would Jaehee be against it?” MC questioned.

With a chuckle, Jumin typed, “Because she doesn’t want to work.”  

As the teasing continued, much to Jaehee’s obvious exasperation, Jumin pressed her for confirmation about the party. He laughed openly at her reason for supporting the parties though, reading her comment that his performance was best when they’d been holding parties.  While it was true he’d used the opportunities afforded to create new connections for C&R, he never exactly “gave up” on cat-related projects.  How little she knew that he had managed several deals to help his projects come to fruition thanks to the parties.

He let her keep her ideas about what he did with his time.  Thinking about the cat-related ventures reminded him, he needed to leave Elizabeth with Jaehee again.  Sadly, he needed to leave town for a business trip.  Just as he’d alerted Jaehee, his father began calling.

To MC he said, “We will talk later.” He took his father’s call quickly, relieved that he could count on Jaehee to support keeping MC in the RFA.  

Jumin and his father were fairly close, as father and son relationships went.  Though his father owned C&R, these evening calls were rarely about business. It was his father who had taught him to take time away from work in the evenings and to relax and enjoy life instead of never pausing.  Their conversation went much longer than usual, and by the time it ended, Jumin was itching for a shower.  He turned his phone off to avoid interruption for the rest of the evening and set about cleaning up and preparing for bed.  He would have broken sleep tonight, having to leave early for his trip, and needed to be sure that what sleep he could get would be restful.

As he settled in, Jumin hummed softly to himself and Elizabeth.  He was in high spirits tonight, despite the impending business trip.  Elizabeth was with him, MC was part of the RFA and he’d secured the most important ally in keeping her there.  Anyone who genuinely appreciated cats was worth keeping around.

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin #jumin han #jumin's route #jumin x mc

[missnmikaelson-main]

Three Deep Breaths - Part 5

Warnings: some SMUT in this chapter 18+ only

Tuesday December 21, 2010

7:37 AM

It was the buzzing of her cell phone that woke her up. Elena blinked and peered blearily through the slits of her eyes. She was mildly surprised when the heat in her glare didn't melt the offending combination of plastic and glass.

Sensing Miranda still sound asleep beside her gaze softened. Elena rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed before checking her caller ID. The name and face flashing on the screen had her eyes narrowing again. She stood up and let it go to voicemail while debating the merits of answering the phone.

When the device was silent again she looked back to Miranda. The little girl was sound asleep on her tummy; the way Elena had laid her when she'd woken up during the night.

Running a hand through her dark hair Elena grimaced when she felt the layer of oil that had settled in overnight. She adjusted the pillows on either side of Miranda before going to take a shower; she left the door open so she would hear if Miranda started to stir.

She was just stepping out of the shower and wrapping a fluffy white towel around her body when she realized something was not quite right. With a growing sense of trepidation she took a deep breath, grabbed the hairspray, and tiptoed back into the bedroom.

Elena's stomach quivered when a cold breeze blew in through the open balcony doors. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. She let out a small surprised shriek when she saw the man by the bed and clutched her towel tighter to her chest.

The scream was a mistake. Not a second after the sound left her lips a hand clamped down over her mouth. Pain shot down her spine as her back collided with the door to the bathroom. There was a soft thud when the hairspray dropped onto the carpet. She whimpered around the hand. Her eyes darted to the bed where a piercing cry was rising.

Desperation clawed its way up her chest; she needed to get to Miranda.

On instinct she brought her knee up with every bit of force in her body. She broke away when her assailant fell to his knees and made a mad dash for the bed. Elena's body tensed when the door was all but torn from its hinges; her body curled protectively around the infant in her arms half expecting a second attacker.

When she went untouched Elena lifted her head. She breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes landed on Elijah's back. Feeling safer she took the time to murmur softly to calm Miranda who was still screaming at the top of her lungs.

She peered around him to see who had attacked her and balked when she recognized him.

"Damon?" She all but shrieked. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," he ground out as the pain subsided. "Some thanks I get."

"Elena does not require rescuing Damon," Elijah fought to keep his voice civil. It was no easy feat when he could sense the anger and fear coming off of Elena and Miranda in waves. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to tear out several of Damon's vital organs for him daring to frighten the child.

"Elena can speak for herself," Damon jumped to his feet and glared.

"She's a little busy calming a baby right now," Elena scoffed around Elijah's back. "You never let me speak for myself before, so why should now be any different? How did you even know I was here?"

"I pestered it out of Stefan," Damon shrugged. "He said you were staying at the Original's mansion. He didn't say anything about a baby." He took what was probably meant to be a menacing step forwards. "Get your things, get rid of that," he pointed to the sniffling Miranda, "and we'll go."

"She's not going anywhere with you Damon," Elijah's eyes hardened with his voice. He really didn't like the way Damon was looking at Elena like she belonged to him, or the way he looked at Miranda like something stuck to his shoe.

"She's not staying here and playing house," he snarled and rushed Elijah.

There was a blur of movement. When it settled Elijah had Damon pinned to the wall a few inches from where Elena had been tossed earlier.

Elijah's voice emerged in an authoritative whisper. "I'm an Original, Damon. Show a little respect before your betters, or at the very least humility." Elijah scoffed at the thought that Damon figured himself capable of fighting a thousand year old vampire.

Elena tried not to feel too happy when she saw Damon's face slowly turn vermillion. She struggled not to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of her current situation. She was wrapped in a towel protecting her child that didn't even exist yet from an unhinged vampire who had bitten off more than he could chew.

"I'm not letting her stay here as a damn hostage," Damon choked around his hand.

"I'm not a hostage Damon," Elena winced when she got to her feet. She held Miranda's ear over her heart to calm her down; the action had the added benefit of securing her towel which she suddenly realized was revealing a lot of her bare legs. She knew Elijah hadn't looked but she could tell by the way Damon was leering through the corner of his eyes that he had seen his fair share of her inner thighs when she had stood up.

"Of course you are," Damon rolled his eyes, "and you've clearly been compelled into submission."

"I haven't been compelled Damon," Elena struggled to keep her voice level. "I am here of my own will and volition because I want to be here."

Damon's eyes fell to the vervain filled charm around her ankle; the one she had worn ever since giving her locket back to Rebekah. She hadn't been compelled. He watched the way she kept one eye on Elijah and the other on the baby in her arms.

"So what you cut ties with us so you could move on to bigger and better?" He scoffed. "You're no better than Katherine."

Elena felt tears spring up in her eyes when he spitefully compared her to her doppelganger. She vainly tried to blink away the moisture. The haze that settled over her field of vision meant she was blind to Elijah's subtle head movement. She was vaguely aware of the snap and several other voices entering the room. She fought against the hands lifting Miranda from her arms until she heard Caroline's voice telling her everything was alright. She allowed Caroline to take Miranda before collapsing into the strong arms that wrapped around her back.

All she could think was that she should have answered Stefan's call.

8:14 AM

Elena's arms were peppered in goosebumps. Chills raced through her at lightning speed. The only combatant to her sudden cold was the hand briskly rubbing her bare shoulder.

She figured Damon would be hurt when she broke things off with him but to compare her to Katherine was something else. He had basically accused her of breaking one bond before moving on to another, all in her own self-interest. He had said she was no better than a woman he had once referred to as a 'psychotic evil vampire slut'.

She opened her eyes slowly to see that 'her room' had been cleared out in the few seconds she had taken to break. Only she remained in the warm embrace of Elijah.

He held her to his chest and carefully maneuvered her to sit beside him on the edge of the bed all the while reassuring her that she was nothing like Katherine. His words fell on deaf ears, but his presence was calming.

"Where did he go?" She didn't bother to specify who. She didn't have to; Elijah was well aware of the person she was talking about. Her harsh glare at the space she had last seen him occupy would have given her away to anyone.

"I broke his neck and Niklaus took him downstairs," his grip tightened around her shoulders. He released her immediately when she hissed in pain.

"Elena?"

Elena leaned forward and gasped as the pain bloomed through her back. She pressed her lips together and bit back a moan when fire licked across her rib cage. Every breath sent a sharp pain through her chest.

"Did I hurt you?" Elijah leaned forward and placed his hand on the small of her towel clad back. He hadn't thought he had squeezed her that hard, it had been a long time since he'd lost control over his own strength. "Elena?"

"No," she ground out, "not you." She exhaled sharply. "Damon pinned me to the wall. I guess I was too concerned with Miranda to notice."

Elijah leaned back and gently moved her hair over her shoulder. His jaw clenched tightly when he saw her mottled skin. Dark bruises marred her normally flawless olive complexion. His fingers ghosted over the exposed skin at the top of the towel.

"What are you doing?" Elena's breath caught when his knuckles brushed over her spine. An entirely different fire settled under her skin at his touch. A flush crept up her neck when he lowered the towel. The damp material slipped from her grasp and pooled around her hips.

She inhaled when his fingers traced a path over her ribs down to the small of her back. "Elijah?"

White hot rage bubbled up in his stomach. He wanted to eviscerate Damon Salvatore. If he had known of Elena's injuries he doubted he would have taken the time to ensure Miranda's eyes were turned away before he had stricken. Her back was quickly turning black and blue. Elijah forced himself to calm down when her laboured breathing penetrated the rapid pounding of his own heart.

"Elena," he carefully guided her back into an upright position, "you appear to have several broken ribs," he caught the slight wheeze in her breath and frowned, "and possibly a punctured lung."

"So a typical Tuesday in Mystic Falls?" Elena coughed.

Elijah lifted her chin and met her slightly dazed eyes. He wanted to tell her she was being ridiculous, but the sad truth was that physical injuries were practically a weekly occurrence for her. "You shouldn't joke," he frowned.

"Well my other option is to embrace the reality that I am nothing more than a fragile human," she wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended that his eyes never left her face, "and that reality is terrifying. Forgive me if I choose to joke. So what's my prognosis Doc?"

"You have a few options," he sighed. "I can take you to the hospital, or I can heal you right now?"

Elena couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up and over. "This is a first."

"What is a first, Elena?" His eyes narrowed in confusion. Each laboured breath and wince of pain was a stab to his heart.

"You're the first vampire to actually ask if I wanted blood or not," her nose crinkled in pain, "Stefan, Damon, even Caroline would have forced their wrist in my mouth by now."

"Does that mean you would prefer the hospital?"

"No," she shivered and shook her head quickly, "I do not want to go to the hospital. Will you heal me please, and maybe close those doors I'm very cold?" Elena blinked when he disappeared. She heard the click of the doors and saw him settle in front of her again.

Elijah brought his wrist to his lips. His fangs descended and broke the skin. Using his right arm to steady her trembling spine he lifted his bloody wrist to Elena's mouth. He bit back a low groan when her lips parted to take a long pull of his blood; her slim fingers curled around his hand for leverage and sent shockwaves up his arm.

When her mouth lifted from his wrist a moment later he leaned back and watched in satisfaction as the bruises quickly faded leaving her skin flawless once more.

Elena turned her head to meet his eyes. A strange sense of euphoria had settled over her when his blood entered her system. It was something she had never experienced before in the wake of vampire blood. She found herself getting lost in his dark eyes. His thumb wiping a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth snapped her from her catatonic state.

Goosebumps rose on her arms when his eyes darted to her slightly parted lips.

Her eyes dropped to his bare chest. "Were you sleeping?" She whispered.

"I was," his fingers threaded into her wet curls, "I woke up when I heard you scream."

"Sorry," she murmured, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"If you hadn't you might have been worse off."

During the short exchange they had moved marginally closer together until their mouths were less than an inch apart.

"It's a good thing you woke up then," her eyes drifted closed when his lips brushed gently over hers. She lifted her hand to grasp the back of his neck.

Elena sighed when his hand splayed across her lower back and pulled her flush against him. She broke away first when the need to breathe became an issue.

"Elijah?" She murmured when his lips started tracing a path to her ear. She chewed her lip and took a ragged breath causing her breasts to scrape deliciously against his chest.

It wasn't that she was overly opposed to their current predicament; it was just that things were poised to move very fast and she was feeling a little exposed. "Elijah," she repeated.

"Elena," he returned. He had caught the halting tone in her voice, the note that said please stop, and pulled back from her far enough to see her lidded eyes.

The combined scent of his blood rushing through her veins and the arousal pooling between her thighs was getting to his head. He held his breath to clear his mind and rested his forehead against hers. "Is something wrong?"

Elena debated the merits of telling him. Considering how closely their bodies were now pressed there was no way he didn't know.

"I-I'm naked."

"I know."

She blushed when she felt the deep chuckle rumble through him. "It's not funny."

"I know I'm sorry," he composed himself. "If it makes you feel any better," his hand snaked between them and lifted the edges of her towel, "I haven't looked beyond your back."

"I'm not sure if that helps or not," she tilted her head and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck.

His hands stilled from lifting the towel. "Would you prefer I look?" He smirked. Elijah was just beginning to move back so he could leave some space between them when there was a knock on the door. He'd barely secured the towel around her chest when Klaus poked his head in.

"Sorry to interrupt," the grin on his face said he was anything but. "Your daughter wants you, Elena." His blue eyes darted between the couple perched on the edge of the bed.

"I'll be down in a minute," Elena's eyes fell to the rumpled bed spread.

Elijah glared at his brother when he made no move to exit the room.

"I'll leave you to get dressed," Elijah cleared his throat. He made a mental note to punish his brother later for daring to interrupt. He stood up when she nodded and left her room stopping only to grip Niklaus' elbow and force him into the hall.

"Ouch," Klaus smirked when the door was shut behind them. "Are you going to tear into me for interrupting?"

"If it had been for any other reason yes," Elijah flexed his wrist. His lips twisted into a tight smile when he heard the snap. "However, since it was for Miranda, I'll let it slide this time."

"Sounds fair," Klaus nodded. "I assume you will be having words with the elder Salvatore, brother."

"I'd like to speak with Elena first and find out how she wishes to proceed," Elijah started after his younger brother down the hall towards his own bedroom.

"You were in her room long enough," Klaus remarked, "I would have assumed you had discussed that. Whatever you do," his gaze darted down to Elijah's pajama pants as he reset his arm, "you may want to take care of that first."

11:15 AM

Elijah flashed into the room where Elena was attempting to soothe a screaming Miranda. Lowering his burden to the ground he slowly crossed the study.

"Elena," he laid a hand on her shoulder.

He regretted the action a second later when she jumped out of her skin. Elijah immediately lifted his hand and apologized profusely; he should have known better after the events of the morning.

"It's alright," Elena bounced on the balls of her feet and rubbed Miranda's back. "I guess I'm just a little jumpy."

That was the understatement of the century. The strange sense of calm that had settled over her shoulders after Elijah healed her had evaporated with Miranda's tears.

Soothing the baby had reminded Elena of why she needed to be calmed in the first place. Thinking of Damon Salvatore had her blood boiling and her stomach trembling in fear. A man who had professed his supposed love for her not a week ago had broken her body and shattered her soul in a matter of moments.

She honestly wasn't sure if she was happy or sad that he was still in the mansion. On the one hand she wanted to maim him; on the other she wanted him as far away from her child as possible. Preferably six feet underground.

Was she like Katherine? She had always hated the thought that she might be. Damon had essentially called her a whore; and why? He had heavily insinuated that she had broken things off with him and his brother to pursue Elijah. Had she subconsciously planned this? It had not been her intention to act on her feelings for Elijah when she broke things off with the brothers.

Although she had to admit if she had planned it out it would have been a very Katherine move: finding the strongest individual who would keep her alive at any cost. It would have been a truly calculating, self-serving, act.

She exhaled slowly and focused on Miranda's hair. "Was he right?" She bit her lip and tried desperately not to cry. Miranda's anxiety was rubbing off on Elena; combined with her anger brought tears to her eyes.

"I have known Damon Salvatore a very short time Elena," he lifted her chin with his knuckle. "I've known him to be impulsive, tactless, and reckless. I have never known him to be right."

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day," she whispered. Her eyes darted towards the door when she heard the distinct rattling of chains.

"Elena," he shifted his hand to cup her cheek and drew her eyes back to his. "You are nothing like Katerina Petrova. Even before she spent centuries on the run all she knew how to do was lie and scheme; she never would have put another life before her own. She threw several innocents into the line of fire to escape Niklaus in the seventeenth century. You went willingly to meet him. I'll admit I was shocked when you agreed to everything to keep your friends safe."

"I really have no sense of self-preservation," she chuckled darkly. "I was going to attack him with hairspray."

"A rather ill-advised weapon," Elijah cautiously touched her shoulder again.

"Was there a better choice in the bathroom?" She leaned into his arms when they circled around her back. Miranda finally quieted when she was enveloped between them.

"Nothing comes to mind," he chuckled. His hands rubbed up and down her back slowly. He could feel the tension dripping down her spine when she rested her head on his shoulder.

"How would you like to proceed from here, Elena?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he just talking about Damon? She hadn't seen a sign of him since he'd been taken from her room.

A loud scream echoed through the halls. Elena felt her stomach clench tightly at the distant blood-curdling sound. Miranda whimpered and clutched at Elena's damp hair. She could feel the muscles in Elijah's chest tighten.

"Niklaus," he kept his tone civil, but there was a clear note of warning in his tone. "Wait until Miranda is out of the house."

Elena couldn't hear Klaus' response, but the silence that followed told her he had heard. She tilted her head back to meet Elijah's eyes. "What's going on?"

"Damon is downstairs," Elijah's jaw clenched, "Niklaus has him chained up. I find myself inclined to…" He trailed off and glanced at Miranda who had tipped her head back to look up at him. "I've installed a car seat in Rebekah's vehicle. She is waiting outside; I thought you could take Miranda away from the house for a while."

"Klaus agreed to that?" Her eyes landed on the bag he had set down earlier.

"I believe his exact words were 'the benefits outweigh the risks'."

"Just..." she sighed. "Just don't kill him."

Elena didn't ask what exactly he planned to do with Damon. She didn't have to; she was fairly certain she already knew. She might have posed an objection a week ago, but after his actions that morning, and the true colours he had shown her, she found she was not opposed to the ordeal he was about to endure.

"Rebekah's my babysitter then," Elena remarked drily, "to make sure I don't run off with my own child."

"He was expecting Caroline to go with you, but apparently she wants to be present for what's about to happen. She seems eager to contribute actually."

"She would be," Elena hesitated. "Caroline has her own history with Damon; let's leave it at that."

"Very well," he nodded. Elijah regretfully released her from his arms and picked up the bag. He lead her outside to where Rebekah was waiting.

"Elijah," Elena caught his sleeve when the car door closed on Rebekah and the baby. She tilted her head back to search his eyes. Even now with fire running through her veins she found his steady gaze calming: peaceful.

"Elena?" He took her hand from his arm and intertwined their fingers. He could hear Niklaus calling to him impatiently, and Caroline's heels tapping on the concrete floor of the basement; Elijah waited for her to find the words she seemed to be searching for.

Was she going to address what had happened between them that morning? The suspense built in his chest the longer she remained silent.

Normally he had the patience of a saint, but he found himself unable to wait. The mornings events needed to be addressed. Would she object to a repeat performance?

"About earlier… I…" He had enjoyed their kiss immensely, but it was not how he had imagined the first kiss to go. "I didn't mean to… I didn't want to…"

"Kiss me?" She cut him off. I misread everything. He doesn't like me… I should have known; he didn't even look… I was basically there for the ogling. "You didn't want to kiss me?"

"No," he tightened his hold on her hand when she tried to pull away. "I didn't want to kiss you like that." He tugged her closer and cupped her cheek with his free hand. "Although incredibly enjoyable I had imagined the first time I kissed you differently."

Elena's head tilted slightly to lean against his hand. Her doe eyes sparkled in the morning sun. "You've imagined kissing me?" She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and peaked up at him through her lashes. "How exactly did you imagine it?"

"Well," his fingers carded into her hair, "for starters I did not think you would be injured and naked."

Elena glanced down at her winter jacket and rolled her shoulders. "I'm completely healed," she smirked, "and fully clothed."

"Good," he teased, "it is rather cold out here."

"It is," she breathed. She smiled when his lips descended on hers.

If there first kiss was hot and rushed than this one was sweet and slow. Their mouths glided together softly. Elena sighed and opened her mouth to allow his tongue into her mouth.

His fingers carded into her hair eliciting a moan as he drew her flush against his body. A shiver traveled down his spine when she wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his back.

They were brought back to reality by the sound of sharp tapping on the car window. Elena rolled her eyes and sighed before stepping out of his arms and opening the car door.

Her lips tingled.

She watched, one hand on her lips the other on Miranda's seat, as Elijah slowly faded in the passenger mirror.

12:00 PM

Caroline stepped slowly into the basement. She had never been a sadistic person. She had never wanted to cause someone physical for the injustices served to her. The types of revenge she had chosen to take were mostly petty: shaving cream in a locker, vicious rumors, mustard in toothpaste.

All of that had changed when she became a vampire. Every crime, every verbal putdown and cruel prank had become child's play with the lifting of her compulsion. She'd hated Katherine, she was a manipulative bitch who turned Caroline for her own purposes; she wanted Katherine dead for ending her human life.

Her hatred of Katherine Pierce was nothing compared to her hatred of Damon Salvatore. Elena knew she didn't like him because he had used her as a blood bag, but not even Elena knew the full extent of it. Nobody knew the full extent of it; there were only two people in the world who knew what Damon had done to her. Perhaps if he had shown some remorse Caroline might have found it in her heart to forgive him after a few centuries; after all eternity was a long time to hold a grudge.

Damon had never shown remorse; not as much as an ounce of it. He had never apologized, and Caroline knew that he never would. Every time she heard his voice she could smell her own blood lacing her pillow; she could feel him throwing her down to bounce on her bed.

Coming to stand a few paces behind Klaus Caroline felt warmth spreading to her extremities. She had never been a sadistic person, but she had to admit seeing Damon dangling from the ceiling, with his blood spattered over Klaus' grey Henley, brought the beginning strains of catharsis to her chest.

"You started without me," Caroline pouted. She crossed her arms and met his sparkling blue eyes.

"I did not realize you would want to be a part of this," Klaus' brow furrowed. "I was under the impression that he was one of your friends."

"He's not my friend," Caroline spat. Her hands tightened their hold on her upper arms.

"That's true," Damon rasped, "she and I have never gotten along, at least not since her transition." His hands closed around the chains so he could pull himself up. Damon tugged on the chains in an attempt to break them when the wounds Klaus had inflicted healed.

Caroline darted around Klaus and landed a blow to Damon's stomach.

Damon coughed and bent as much as the chains would allow. Caroline had thrown all of her strength into that punch.

"Not that this isn't highly amusing, love," Klaus caught her wrist before she could strike again, "but what exactly has Damon done to deserve your hatred." He could see the fire flickering in her eyes and knew that there was more to it than Damon's earlier treatment of Elena.

"Yeah, blondie," Damon ground out, "what did I ever do to you?" He rolled his shoulders back and glared.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Caroline felt a muscle twitch in her face. "Your memory cannot possibly be that short."

Elijah paused at the foot of the stairs and watched silently as Caroline all but bristled with rage.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Damon grunted when her knee came up between his legs. He breathed through the pain and looked up at her through his lashes. "I've never raised a finger against you Care Bear!"

"Never raised a …" Caroline shrieked. "You raped me! Repeatedly!" She felt the tears sting her eyes.

"He what?"

Caroline flinched away when from the loud roar erupting from Klaus' mouth.

"She was perfectly willing," Damon rasped around the hand now closed around his throat.

"Only because you compelled me you bastard," Caroline crossed her arms.

"You compelled her to sleep with you?" Klaus' voice had dropped to a dangerous octave that sent a shiver down Damon's spine.

"Like you've never compelled a girl into your bed," Damon scoffed.

"As a matter of fact I haven't," Klaus plunged his hand into Damon's stomach. "I don't have to compel women to sleep with me."

Elijah stepped forward and pulled Klaus off before he could rip out any vital organs.

"Elijah," Klaus growled and wrenched his arm free, "I thought you found yourself inclined to a little torture."

"I do," Elijah nodded. He glanced sideways through his eyes at Damon. "However, I did promise Elena that we wouldn't kill him."

"I doubt Elena knew about what he did to her best friend," Klaus jabbed a finger into his older brothers chest leaving behind a dark red stain.

"She asked me not to kill him, Niklaus," Elijah looked down at the blood covered hand. "I would ask you to respect her request."

Caroline's eyes fell to a high table covered in various instruments of torture straight out of the middle ages. She recognized a few from her history text books: pear of anguish, thumb screws, and a heretic's fork. There were many more that she was unfamiliar with along with the standard assortment of knives and swords, and what appeared to be a saw.

Caroline kept one ear on the arguing brothers and ran her fingertips over the cool steel. She hadn't promised Elena anything; she was not obligated by her word. Caroline picked up a large knife with a razor sharp blade.

"Was Elena's only stipulation that he not die?" Caroline circled around the Original's and eyed Damon.

"Yes," Elijah watched her tap the tip of the blade with her finger.

Caroline nodded. "I can work with that," her wrist moved faster than human eyes would have been able to track. However, since everyone in the room was a vampire, they could all see her target, but they were either too surprised to stop her or too bound to get away.

Caroline had never been a sadistic person but Damon's agonized scream was music to her ears and the blood coating his dark jeans a masterpiece. She remembered Stefan telling her something Klaus had once said about even the purest of hearts being drawn to the dark.

Perhaps Klaus was right… there was a certain allure to darkness.

Kol paused in the doorway of his home and listened. When he heard no sound indicating life in the mansion he used his supernatural speed to reach the basement. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark but when they did he could easily make out the neat row of coffins; there were five in total.

Tiptoeing along the line he lifted each lid marginally until he landed on one that would not budge. He considered the length of wood carefully as he thought of the best approach to remove the casket from the mansion. Perhaps it would be easier to call Bonnie and have her open it here; that thought soon dashed out of his mind when he heard the tell-tale sound of a human heartbeat overhead.

Kol cursed silently when a hand closed over his shoulder. He glared at Elijah and motioned to the coffin.

"I thought you could use an extra set of hands," Elijah murmured. He moved to take one end of the heavy mahogany.

"I'm fully capable of liberating a coffin on my own," Kol quipped as he moved into position. "It just would have been a little awkward."

Elijah rolled his eyes and lifted the coffin. In a matter of seconds they had exited the mansion and laid the wooden box on the back steps of the Gilbert house.

"What kept you?" Bonnie dropped to her knees. Her fingers smoothed over the surface before lifting the lid with ease.

1:30 PM

Elena bounced Miranda gently on her hip and reached for the phone on the counter. She and Rebekah had debated back and forth about what to do before deciding they couldn't go just anywhere with Miranda.

That had led them to Elena's house. She'd unlocked the front door with the spare key from under the porch and walked into the living room before turning on her heel and laughing.

"Sorry," she had smiled and set down the infant carrier, "I forgot."

"That I'd never been invited in?" Rebekah settled her hands on her hips and tilted her head.

"Yeah," Elena had nodded. "Come on in Rebekah."

That had been nearly two hours ago. Miranda had slept for the first hour, but now she was wide awake and playing with Elena's hair.

Elena smiled before answering the phone. "Hello?" She moved her head when Miranda tugged.

"Elena?"

"Yes," Elena winced when Miranda pulled a little too hard. She turned and whispered: "don't pull mama's hair."

"Elena?"

"Yeah," Elena refocused on the phone and allowed Rebekah to pull Miranda from her arms. "What's up Bonnie?"

"Did you forget about the Calculus test?"

"What calculus test?" Elena scrunched up her nose and pulled a funny face to make Miranda smile.

"The one that starts in 15 minutes. The one that's worth 30% of your final grade."

"That's not until…" Elena trailed off.

"Today."

"Shi-oot," Elena ran her fingers through her hair, "I completely forgot."

Rebekah reached into her sweater pocket. "I can watch Miranda. You go take your test." She held the keys out of Miranda's reach and gave them to Elena.

"Are you sure?" Elena dragged her toes over the tile of the kitchen floor. Miranda seemed perfectly content in Rebekah's arms, but Elena was still a tad hesitant. Her friendship with Rebekah was still new, and she didn't know how well Miranda would do if she were to leave her sight.

"I know how to take care of a baby," Rebekah quirked an eyebrow. "I think I can handle her. Right Miranda?" She lifted the little girl over her head and brought her down and kissed her nose. "You want to spend some time with auntie Bex right?"

Miranda grinned when Rebekah kissed her cheek. Her chubby hands closed around Rebekah's shiny blond hair.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Rebekah turned to Elena and grinned. "Go on. We'll be just fine for an hour."

Auntie Bex? Elena's eyes sparkled with amusement. She supposed if she and Rebekah were to continue in their friendship eventually they might become close enough that Elena's future children might refer to Rebekah that way especially if Klaus had his way and kept her close to the Mikaelson family; that might not be so bad. She wasn't prepared to live with them full time, but she was no longer under the impression they would try to kill her at every turn. She was certain Bonnie and Caroline would be honorary aunts as well.

Elena nodded slowly before accepting the keys and backing out of the kitchen. She would have taken her own car if it hadn't been left at the mansion. Elena hesitated at the door with one foot outside when she heard Miranda starting to fuss. A second later Miranda calmed down.

If she hadn't been so preoccupied with Miranda and with her test that she was now sure she would fail Elena might have better enjoyed driving Rebekah's red BMW convertible. It was a beautiful vehicle. Unfortunately her mind was preoccupied so the car was just a car and not something out of her dreams.

She was racing out of the room after completing her test only to have a hand grab her arm. She stopped up short and turned on her heel to look down at Bonnie. Elena shifted from foot to foot and fidgeted with the car keys in her hand. She trusted Rebekah but she was missing her child; she thought it rather strange that she missed a child that hadn't been born yet and wondered briefly how long she would have to wait before her daughter was born.

"Do you need something Bonnie?" Elena looked towards the parking lot.

"I just wanted to let you know I'll be at the mansion tonight to se…" Bonnie cleared her throat when a group of cheerleaders passed them. "I'll be there tonight to take care of your little… problem…"

"She's not a problem," Elena hissed. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

Bonnie held up her hand defensively. "I didn't mean it that way," she whispered, "I just didn't know how else to phrase that without alerting everyone in earshot to the situation."

"I know," Elena sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry Bon. I didn't mean to snap. She'll go home tonight then?"

"Yeah," Bonnie nodded, "I'll come by around 7:15. I'd like to spend as little time around the Mikaelson's as possible."

"When's the spell?" Elena forced herself to focus on Bonnie.

"The eclipse will last from half past five until a little after eleven," Bonnie explained. "The spell can take place anytime during that period. I thought we'd go with 7:30 since my dad's in town and wants to have dinner at 6:00."

"Okay," Elena nodded and chewed on her bottom lip. "I'll see you tonight then."

"Wait," Bonnie called after her, "you're not coming to history?"

"Can't," Elena shouted back, "got a little thing to take care of before tonight."

Elena pushed through the doors and raced across the yard to the red car. Her eyes widened when her boot caught on black ice. Elena threw her arms out and waved them around as she attempted to regain her balance. It was sadly not to be.

She mentally prepared herself for the harsh impact when her back would hit the ice, but it never came. Elena grimaced and peeked through one eye to look at the hands currently setting her back on her feet.

"Are you alright?"

Elena's hands closed into fists as she spun around slowly; she was more mindful of the ice now. The heat in her glare would have melted the ice if she had directed her gaze downwards. Fortunately for the ice her gaze was directed at her ex-boyfriend.

It was probably unwise to slap a vampire, but Elena still did it. Her hand stung and turned red.

"I take it Damon paid you a visit," Stefan grunted. He turned his head back to look at her.

"Damon broke several of my ribs and punctured a lung," Elena's hands reached out and shoved his chest, "because you told him I was staying at the Mikaelson's."

Whether Stefan stumbled back from shock or from her ineffectual fists she didn't know. Actually she did; there was no way she had the physical strength to push him off his feet.

"He what?" Stefan blinked. He didn't want to believe his brother would harm Elena, but it certainly fit with his M.O…. Damon never meant to hurt anyone, but that didn't stop him from doing it. "Where is Damon now?"

"He's having a little chat with the Original's," Elena turned around and stomped across the frozen ground. She tore open the car door and sped out of the school.

She put the car in park in her driveway and jumped a foot in the air when she saw Stefan on her front porch.

"Stupid vampires," she muttered darkly.

"Sorry," Stefan crossed his arms and blocked her path into the house, "but I do need to know if I still have a brother. He was foolish enough to break into the Original's house; I don't think they'll let that go." Stefan was fairly certain a certain Original would not let Elena's injuries go unpunished; the same Original he could currently smell all over her.

Elena hesitated before nodding slowly. "He was alive when I left." She couldn't say what condition he would be in when she returned. Elena had asked that they not kill him, but she hadn't failed to notice when Elijah did not promise her anything.

"He's still alive," Rebekah poked her head out the front door. "Kol called with an update, and I had to listen to Nik gripping about not being allowed to kill him. Caroline sounded rather disappointed to."

"What are you doing here?" Stefan's eyes darted from Elena on the porch to Rebekah inside Elena's house.

"She is babysitting," Elena stepped around Rebekah and took Miranda, "my daughter."

"Your…" Stefan gaped at the child. He could see the resemblance.

Elena stifled a laugh when she saw Stefan trying to work out the math in his head.

"Yes," Elena nodded, "she is visiting from the future… she hasn't been conceived yet."

"Huh," Stefan took a step forward and held out a hand to the little girl. She was the same one who had been sleeping soundly between Elena and Elijah in the picture. He retreated when Miranda frowned and burrowed her head in Elena's neck.

5:07 PM

Elena shifted on the floor. She crossed her legs at the ankles and leaned against the club chair in the cheery study.

Miranda was lying flat on her back on top of a soft pink blanket. She had just fallen asleep after twenty minutes of fussing.

Elena had tried going back into the bedroom she had been sleeping in, but it had taken less than a minute for her to know that Miranda would not sleep in their again. She had wandered from room to room, with the blanket over her shoulder, bouncing the crying baby before she had stumbled upon the room she was now occupying.

Bookshelves lined the walls. They stretched from the antique carpet to the ceiling and were covered in leather bound volumes that made the room smell divine. Brown leather sofas and chairs were spaced around the room. A low table had been pushed aside to give Miranda room to roll around if she wanted.

A large desk was situated between two shelves that almost closed it off from the rest of the room, and in front of a large window through which she could see the full moon rising behind the trees; it wouldn't be long before the start of the eclipse.

Miranda had calmed down and fallen asleep almost instantly when Elena carried her inside and laid her out on the pink blanket.

Miranda might have been a lot calmer when she was ready for a nap if she hadn't seen Stefan all but drag Damon from the mansion. The sight of the raven haired vampire had upset her; she had only calmed down when she was surrounded by the books.

Elena looked up through her eyelashes when a dark shadow passed over Miranda and the lower portion of her legs. "Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?" Elijah dropped to sit next to her on the floor. He listened to the shallow breaths of the sleeping infant and met Elena's eyes.

"Not killing him," she shrugged. "I was half expecting to come back and find him dead."

"You asked me not to."

"I asked you not to," Elena tucked her hair behind her ear, "you weren't the only one involved downstairs, and you didn't actually give your word so…"

Elijah blinked and thought back. He realized she was right; it seemed he could not deny her request. Was he imagining the way her eyes flashed with disappointment?

"I see you found my study," Elijah's arm brushed against hers when he sat back.

"Yeah," Elena smiled. "I was trying to put Miranda down for a nap. This was the first room she calmed down in. It's peaceful in here," she glanced around. It would be very easy for her to get lost in a book, or lose track of the hours writing, in this room. She could see Elijah doing the same.

"I do spend a lot of time in here," Elijah admitted. "It's a sanctuary of sorts from my siblings."

"Sometimes you need to get away?" Elena smirked.

"I love them dearly, but yes," he chuckled, "sometimes I need peace and quiet."

"I take it Kol's not allowed in here then?" Elena's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"You would be correct," Elijah nodded. His laughter slowed as he turned to look into her eyes.

His siblings were spread out around the house. Caroline was with Niklaus in his art studio. Miranda was sound asleep on the floor and Bonnie Bennet would not be arriving for another two hours. If there was ever a time to talk to Elena it was now.

"Elena," Elijah adjusted his sleeves, "I think we need to talk," he heard her heart skip a beat.

Elena shifted on her hip so her upper body faced him. With the most serious expression she could muster she looked at him and arched an eyebrow. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"What?" His eyebrows shot up.

Elena pressed her lips together and snickered. "Sorry," she apologized, "you just looked so serious… I couldn't resist."

"May I ask how you came up with that conclusion," Elijah tilted his head.

"It's just what guys say when they want to break up," Elena shrugged, "kind of a cliché."

Elijah made a mental note to catch up on some of the phrases of the twenty-first century. He would hate to upset her at a later date.

"No," Elijah shook his head, "I'm not breaking up with you… just the opposite actually."

"What?" This time it was Elena's turn to look surprised. Her fingers traced the edge of her oversized white sweater.

Elijah reached out and stilled her fingers movement. "I care about you Elena," his thumb grazed her knuckles, "I've rather enjoyed your presence in the mansion. I like seeing you every day, and I would like to see you again after you go back home."

"You like me?" Elena tilted her head to the side. "What happened to never caring for another doppelganger?" She could feel the corners of her mouth threatening to turn up into a grin. She tried to temper it because she had a feeling it would be a very goofy grin.

"I lied," Elijah admitted, "I lied to you that day."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have an amazing poker face?" Elena bit her lip. "I had no idea."

"Sad to say I've grown rather proficient in the art of lying," Elijah frowned, "to my credit that is the only lie I've ever told you."

"You know most people wouldn't believe you," Elena blinked, "especially after admitting you lied to me."

"And you?" Elijah released her hand and gently pushed her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm not most women," Elena felt a corner of her mouth lift. She didn't miss the way his eyes darted to her lips. "I'd like to see you again as well."

Elijah lifted her hand and kissed her palm. "Do you have any plans Thursday night? I assume you'll be with your brother Friday."

"You assume correct. Jeremy and I have standing Christmas Eve plans, but I am free as a bird Thursday." Elena tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Where does that expression come from anyway?"

"I believe it was a Beatles song," Elijah chuckled. "Since you are 'free' may I take you for dinner?"

"Yes." Elena nodded. "I would love that."

5:46 PM

Elena broke eye contact when she felt Miranda wiggle against her calve. She held her breath and waited to see if she would wake up; she hadn't been asleep a half an hour yet.

Elena breathed a sigh of relief when Miranda rolled onto her belly and remained asleep.

"Perhaps we should move," Elijah suggested, "so we don't wake her up."

Elena nodded before climbing to her feet. She made sure the area around Miranda was clear before moving to stand in front of the window.

Elena could feel Elijah standing less than a foot to her left. She was surprised that she was more aware of the space between them now than she had been when she was sitting beside him on the floor.

Elijah took a small step closer and heard her heart increase its pace. His arm brushed hers as he nodded to the shadow starting to pass over the moon.

"Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse Elena?" His eyes roamed her upturned face as she watched the moon slowly disappear.

"No," she shook her head. A flush spread over her neck under the intensity of his gaze. "I think I was six the last time. My parents put us to bed before they went outside to watch."

"It's a shame you missed it," Elijah peered down into her eyes. They sparkled in the moonlight.

"I actually snuck out of bed to try and watch it," Elena tilted her head and shrugged, "but being six I fell asleep. It's a shame they're so far apart." Elena considered turning back to the window, but she found watching the moonlight dance over his features more appealing.

"I believe there is another one in June," Elijah's fingers ghosted up her arm.

Elena felt a shiver travel her spine when his hand settled on her shoulder. "That's not far away," she breathed. Her feet stepped forward of their own accord. The closer she got to Elijah the less she cared about the eclipse; it's not like it was a once in a lifetime thing.

Elijah's eyes peered into hers searchingly.

Elena inhaled. Her hand slid up to cup his cheek as she arched her neck and brushed her lips over his. Elena's arms wrapped around his neck when he took hold of her waist and pulled her closer.

The world around them all but faded away as the burning desire to be closer overtook them. Elena gasped for breath and wrapped her legs around his waist when he lifted and pinned her to the window.

Elijah nipped along her throat and inhaled. Although it had faded since that morning he could still smell his blood coursing through her veins. That combined with the feeling of her strong legs wrapped around his hips had him groaning softly into her mouth.

Elena shivered when his hands slipped under the hem of her sweater and the window cooled her heated skin. She lifted her arms when his hands settled over her rib cage.

Elijah hesitated. He looked into her bright eyes and waited until she nodded before pulling the white sweater over her head.

Elena gasped and arched her back when his hand trailed down her spine. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his light blue shirt. She was pushing the sleeves down his arms when he spun her at vampire speed and set her on the edge of his desk.

Her tongue explored his mouth eliciting a groan. She tightened her thighs around his waist and pulled him as close as possible while running her hand through his hair.

Elijah's hands slid down her sides before he slowly guided her back to lie on the smooth wood. Hovering, he took a second to drink in the sight of her; her hair seemed to blend into the dark wood of the desktop. He moved down to capture her lips again, but paused when her hand settled on his chest.

Elena's head lifted and turned in the direction of the furniture where Miranda had kicked herself back over onto her back. She could just make out the pink blanket around the corner of the bookshelf.

Elijah followed her gaze. It took him a second to drown out the sound of Elena's pounding heart so he could listen to the shallow breaths.

"She's still asleep," he whispered.

"Good… she needs her rest." Elena arched her neck. Her eyes drifted shut when his tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat.

"Better stay quiet then," Elijah left open mouthed kisses along the tops of her breasts, "wouldn't want to wake her up."

"Yeah," Elena murmured. Her back lifted from the desk when his hand snaked around to unclasp her blue bra. She bit back a moan and carded her fingers through his hair as he licked and nipped his way down her stomach.

7:15 PM

In the end they didn't have to be quiet. Miranda was so tired she slept for a solid two hours.

Elijah's hands slid up her sides before looping around her back and pulling her to his chest. She hummed contentedly as he left open mouthed kisses across her cheek to her lips.

Elena was trading slow, lazy, kisses with Elijah when Miranda finally stirred. Reluctantly she let her legs drop from his waist and allowed him to step back away from the edge of the desk. She shivered when the cool air hit her skin.

"Thank you," she smiled when he passed her the oversized white sweater. She tugged the sweater over her head and hopped down. She ran her hands around her neck and pulled her hair out from under the collar where it had gotten stuck. She was going to locate her underwear and leggings when Miranda's soft babbling turned to crying.

Elena rounded the corner and stepped around the furniture to bend over and pick up Miranda. Her hands settled under Miranda's arms, she was straightening up when she sensed eyes on her.

She rubbed circles on the baby's back and glanced over her shoulder to mock glare at Elijah.

"It's rude to stare you know?" Elena spun on her heel and felt the soft wool brush against the middle of her thighs. Her eyes flickered to his half open shirt when he stepped closer.

"I must apologize," he bent and kissed her cheek, "but it was a very nice view." His smirk turned to a soft smile when Miranda took advantage of his closeness and squirmed around to wrap her tiny arms around his neck. Elijah took Miranda and passed Elena her leggings.

"And now you're stealing the baby again," Elena pulled on her pants and snickered when he attempted to button his shirt with one hand. Miranda was making the action difficult by tugging on his collar.

"I told you," he gave up buttoning his shirt and tickled Miranda's toes, "she's difficult to resist."

Elena shook her head and laughed. She tugged her hair into a messy bun and turned her eyes to the door. She blushed when Kol poked his head inside.

"The Bennet witch is here," his eyes darted between Elena and his brother taking in their messy appearance. "She's ready to cast the spell."

Elena nodded and took Miranda back so Elijah could finish buttoning his shirt. She caught his sleeve before he could leave the study. "Wait," she shifted Miranda and reached up to straighten out his hair.

They crossed the length of the mansion and descended the stairs to find Bonnie waiting by the door. She was tapping her foot impatiently and angling herself as far away from Klaus and Kol as possible.

"Hey Bon," Elena padded across the marble foyer. "Why are we all standing by the door?" She looked around to find everyone, and she did mean everyone, standing in warm coats and boots. Elena looked down when Caroline placed her own boots on the floor.

"The spell needs to be done outside under the eclipse." Bonnie explained as Rebekah took the baby and wrapped her up in a warm blanket.

"Of course it does," Elena sighed. She took her jacket from Kol and hurriedly shoved her arms into the sleeves before reaching out for the baby again. She followed outside and held Miranda tighter when the cold night air hit her; it was close to the freezing point.

"Someone is going to be there on the other side right?" Elena tightened her hold and kissed Miranda's head. She didn't know when Miranda would be returning to, but if it was December her little body would freeze very quickly.

"There should be," Bonnie moved a couple dozen feet from the mansion. She arranged the candles she had brought in a circle and laid out a shallow metal bowl filled with ground herbs. She raised her eyes and looked over the assembly of vampires. "I count five vampires, and a witch. If you are not there Elena I'm fairly certain one of us will be."

"Why wouldn't I be here?" Elena paled at the thought.

"I-I," Bonnie stammered.

"You'll be here, Elena," Elijah laid a hand on her back. "Miranda was likely sent here by accident. There is little doubt in my mind that you are not wearing a hole in the mansion floor in the future while watching the garden."

Elena glanced up at him through her lashes. She bit her lip and nodded.

"Is it just me, love, or are you reluctant to let her go?" Klaus crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow.

Elena blinked back a few tears and looked down into the little girl's dark eyes. "I'm going to miss her," she admitted. How long would it be until she held this little girl again? It might be a few years. It might be a decade.

"You'll see her again soon, Elena," Rebekah reassured her. She reached out and tapped Miranda's nose making the child giggle.

"Doesn't make letting her go any easier," Elena sighed. "I've only had her four days, but I already love her." She smiled sadly and kissed Miranda's hair again.

"If you're ready Elena," Bonnie lit the candles with a wave of her hand, "we should probably do this."

"Before I decide to actually make a break for it," Elena chuckled.

"I don't think you'd get very far," Kol quipped. "I count five vampires in this garden."

"I don't know," Elena smirked, "I think Caroline would probably help."

"Could be fun," Caroline placed her hand on Miranda's back and bent to kiss her cheek, "but we should probably send her home so she can be conceived at some point."

"Alright," Elena pouted. She looked down at Miranda: "it's time to go home little miss."

"Ma-ma," she grabbed a fistful of Elena's sweater.

Elena adjusted a strand of hair that had fallen from her rushed up-do. She met Bonnie's eyes. "How does this work?" Her gaze darted to the assembly Bonnie had prepared.

"Basically you put in her in the center of the circle, I chant a few words and she goes back home…" Bonnie's eyes darted to the shallow bowl of herbs.

"There's something else isn't there?" Elena frowned.

"Yeah," Bonnie nodded and reached into the bag at her side. She pulled out a knife.

Elena felt her eyes widen when she saw the metal glitter menacingly in the dim light. "I'm not going to like this am I?"

"I just need a little of your blood," Bonnie shrugged apologetically. "It will make sure she goes back to the right time."

Elena balanced Miranda with her right arm and offered Bonnie her left hand. "I just wished you'd chosen a smaller knife," she winced when the blade pressed lightly into the fleshy part of her palm at the base of her thumb.

"Sorry," Bonnie grimaced in sympathy. She tilted Elena's hand and caught the blood in the bowl of herbs. Bonnie lifted her eyes and gasped. "Oh my…"

"What?" Elena titled her head.

Elena frowned when she saw Rebekah's face break out in a broad grin. Klaus and Kol appeared to be flabbergasted. Caroline was staring at Elena with unconcealed shock.

Elena glanced over her shoulder to find Elijah just as confused as she was. She thought for a second that there was something on her; maybe Elijah had left a mark on her neck. That thought left her mind when she realized that nobody was staring at her; they were all looking at Miranda. Elena followed their eyes and inhaled sharply.

Miranda had turned her face towards Elena's injured palm. Her beautiful brown eyes had darkened slightly; they appeared to be almost black with an almost red rim. Elena blinked rapidly; her gaze traced the thin spider web like veins writhing under Miranda's eyes.

"I-I um…" Kol stepped forward and bent to peer into Miranda's face, "I've still got that spell. I'm certain Bon-Bon over here could alter it to find out who her dad is."

"Why are we discussing this now?" Elijah narrowed his eyes at his youngest brother. He had yet to see the child's face.

Kol glanced up at him before pulling Miranda from Elena's arms and turning her to face Elijah. His shoulders shook as he smirked. "I'm a little behind on the slang of this century, what with being in a box for 98 years," he glanced over his shoulder at Nik, "but I believe the term is OMG."

While Kol was talking Rebekah flashed inside and grabbed the paper he had written the spell on four days ago. She brought it outside and passed it to Bonnie.

Bonnie studied the paper and nodded when Rebekah supplied her with the correct Latin words in the right places. "I can do it if you want to know, Elena. The spell is simple enough."

Elena was still staring at the shifting veins under her daughter's eyes. How? The single word question repeated like a mantra in her mind. She thought of the grip Miranda would take on her hair or her finger.

"She seems to be in a bit of shock," Klaus cleared his throat, "but I am exceptionally curious. Do the spell Miss Bennet."

"Gee…" Bonnie rolled her eyes and took Miranda from Kol, "… I wonder why." She closed her eyes to concentrate and started murmuring in Latin. Bonnie stopped when Miranda giggled; the magic had settled on her left arm writing out the name of her father.

Bonnie rolled up her sleeve, thankfully the onesie had loose ones, and read the name in her head.

"Well," Rebekah stepped out of the way so her brother and Elena could read the name, "that certainly explains a lot."

Elijah Mikaelson

September 14, 977

8:30 PM

Elena and Elijah had spent several minutes staring at the name on Miranda's arm in a stunned silence. They might have gone on like that all night if Bonnie hadn't insisted that she needed to get on with the spell.

Reluctantly Elijah had relinquished his hold on Miranda's hand and allowed Bonnie to lower her into the center of the circle. He had pressed a handkerchief into Elena's palm and watched as Miranda's eyes returned to normal before she had disappeared in a ball of light.

That had been nearly twenty minutes ago. They had since moved inside to the large sitting room.

Elijah was still reeling when he set on a couch beside Elena.

"How the bloody 'ell did that happen?" Klaus all but roared, making Elena jump in surprise. He had kept quiet until after Miranda was sent back, but now Klaus pointed an accusing finger at Elena.

"Do you really need us to explain where babies come from?" Elijah couldn't stop the sharp retort. "At this age, Niklaus, you should know that."

Klaus glared at his brother. "That is not what I meant and you know it," he muttered.

"I don't know," Elijah glanced at Elena from the corner of his eye.

Elena gaped. Vampires couldn't have children. Wasn't that what Damon had once said? Judging by the shell-shocked expressions on the Originals' faces Damon had not been misinformed. Every single member of the Mikaelson family seemed to be confused… well… almost all of them.

Rebekah smirked. Her smug smile was reminiscent of the cat that ate the canary. Her eyes darted between her brother and Elena.

Elena surprised everyone when she called Rebekah out on it. "Rebekah, do you know something?"

Rebekah's smirk fell slightly under the sudden stares of Caroline, Elena, Bonnie and her brothers. She bit her lip and shrugged. "I may have heard a rumor in February of 1639 about a vampire conceiving a child during the winter solstice."

Klaus' hands clenched into fists as a muscle in his jaw ticked. "You waited until now to tell us?" His voice had slowly risen in volume.

Elena's eyes narrowed slightly upon Rebekah's admission. Had she really dismissed it as a rumor? Elena's doe eyes glazed over as a scene from earlier in the day replayed in her mind.

"I know how to take care of a baby," Rebekah quirked an eyebrow. "I think I can handle her. Right Miranda?" She lifted the little girl over her head and brought her down and kissed her nose. "You want to spend some time with auntie Bex right?"

Miranda grinned when Rebekah kissed her cheek. Her chubby hands closed around Rebekah's shiny blond hair.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Rebekah turned to Elena and grinned. "Go on. We'll be just fine for an hour."

She had dismissed it earlier. After all friends were often called aunts and uncles if they were close enough to the parents, but now Elena wasn't so sure.

She thought about how comfortable Miranda had been with each of the Originals. She'd loved Rebekah despite the knife throwing incident. She enjoyed playing with Kol. Miranda had even started to warm up to Klaus; Elena suspected the only reason she had been weary of the hybrid was because he had scared her that first morning.

Elena's watched Elijah through the corner of her eye. Elijah had said Miranda's eyes were slightly darker than hers. Turning her head to the left Elena saw his dark eyes were locked on his sister who was saying something.

Elena mentally kicked herself for not noticing it before: Elijah and Miranda had the same dark brown eyes.

She shook herself from her thoughts as the full impact of Rebekah's words reached her mind.

"Back up a minute," the blood drained from Elena's face. "Did you say during the eclipse?"

Elijah seemed to follow her train of thought instantly. His eyes widened as he turned to take in her pale expression. Would they be greeting the child again soon?

"Yes," Rebekah nodded. Her eyes dropped to the silver watch around her wrist. "I'd say you've got about two hours left."

"I wouldn't worry about that sister," Kol leaned against a bookshelf. "That's already been taken care of."

Under normal circumstances Elena might have been mortified to have her sex life revealed in front of other people, but she was too focused to care. Truth be told, she was too focused on her own thoughts that she had not heard Kol's comment, nor did she hear Elijah's low warning growl. In fact she was completely unaware of the scene unfolding around her as she climbed to her feet.

"I…I n-need so-some air." She stumbled on shaking legs into the garden. Her palm covered the flat expanse of her stomach where, if Rebekah was right, her daughter was rapidly forming.

Elena glanced down to see a dark jacket being placed around her shivering shoulders. She didn't have to look to know it was Elijah that had followed her.

"Did we…" Elena's eyes found the dark circle where Bonnie had cast the spell.

"It's a little too soon to tell," Elijah replied, "but if Rebekah is right than… yes." He glanced at her sideways and frowned. "Do you not want to be pregnant?" 'With my child' went unspoken.

Elena spun on her heel. She tilted her head back to meet his eyes and glared. "I'm not overly thrilled about the prospect of being pregnant in high school," she poked his chest, "but don't think for a second that I don't want that little girl."

"Good," he caught her hand, "because so do I."

"Really?" Elena bit her lip and searched his eyes.

"Really," he nodded. Elijah released her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her face. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped his free arm around her waist.

Elena's eyes drifted shut. Her hand fell back to her flat stomach. "How sure are we that Rebekah's right? When's this," she gestured upwards to the eclipse, "supposed to happen again?"

"2094," Kol called from the door. "That date is rather unlikely since Miranda was…is… will be…" He frowned and tried to sort through the proper tenses in his head. How did he refer to a child he had known that hadn't been born yet?

"Get to the point Kol," Elena stepped around Elijah to glare at his brother.

"She was clearly part human. If she wasn't I'm sure we would have noticed sooner since she would have needed blood to survive and she didn't," Kol smirked. "How soon until we know for sure?" His eyes dropped to her stomach.

"The strongest tests are effective after 10 days," Caroline tucked a curl behind her ear. She tilted her head when she found nearly everyone had turned to stare at her. "What?"

"How exactly do you know that Caroline?" Klaus crossed his arms and leaned against the open door across from Kol.

"Everybody knows that," Bonnie cut in. "It's one of the many things taught in sexual education; a mandatory class for all high school students."

"What else is taught in this class?" Kol wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Elena shook her head before bending. Before Elijah could ask what she was doing she had lobbed a handful of snow at Kol's head.

The snow exploded upon impact. Thousands of miniscule ice crystals sprayed across his face.

Kol's head whipped around to glare at Elena. His frown morphed into a wicked smirk. He carefully stepped down into the garden. "You are going to pay for that, darling." Kol moved at vampire speed to throw a handful of snow at Elena.

"Don't call me darling," Elena jumped back out of the way. She suspected the only real reason Kol missed was because Elijah had stepped in the way of the flying ice.

"Kol," Rebekah chastised, "don't throw snow at Elena. For heaven's sake she's pregnant!" Rebekah shoved some snow down his collar.

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that fast," Klaus watched from the door with Caroline.

"There is a very good chance however," Caroline flashed around to the other side of the garden, "but even so a little snow ball fight never hurt anyone."

Elena shrieked when she felt the cold run down the back of her neck. She spun around and glared at Caroline before bending to pick up more snow. "That's cheating," she cried when Caroline used her vampire speed to get out of Elena's line of fire.

"All's fair in love and war, Elena," Caroline giggled from the porch steps. She gasped when she felt strong arms encircle her waist. The next thing she knew she was lying in the soft snow. "Klaus," she mock glared when she found him hovering over her.

"Caroline," he smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

Elena took advantage of her sudden immobility and threw her snowball; it collided with Caroline's shoulder. The crystals sprayed upwards to hit them both in the face. She backed away instantly and took cover behind Elijah.

She caught sight of Bonnie snickering in the open door; she held up her hand and stopped a snowball from colliding with her arm. It swung back through the air.

Elena gasped when she found herself pressed against the side of the house. She inclined her head to see a full blown fight underway in the garden. Kol and Rebekah had teamed up on Klaus. Caroline had found herself on Klaus' side when one of Kol's snowballs hit her in the face.

"You've started a war."

Elena tilted her head back to look into Elijah's eyes. She might have though him angry if not for the amused twinkle in his eyes.

"If you let go of me I'll finish it," she smirked.

"A battlefield is no place for an expectant mother," his hands splayed across her sides.

Elena was going to say that: 'they weren't sure she was pregnant yet', but the words died on her tongue when his mouth descended on hers. Her frozen fingers tangled in his dark hair. Her mouth opened to admit his tongue when it swiped across her lower lip.

Elijah lifted her by her waist and stepped forward to pin her to the wall. He had other plans that did not involve a snowball fight with his siblings.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Elena rubbed her arms furiously. She couldn't get warm. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were fighting a lost cause and that she would never hold her baby girl again.

Freya looked up from where she had finished binding the ingredients together. "I'm sure," she pointed to the four objects she had bound the spell to. "If we bury these at each point of the compass it will create a field that will render her mortal."

"What's wrong with just placing them?" Elijah wrapped his arms around Elena's waist. She immediately sank back into his chest.

"She would see them."

Freya nodded her agreement while simultaneously glaring at her mother. She had been mildly surprised when Esther chose to help them so quickly.

"How do you propose to get her into the field then?" Kol passed the enchanted objects to Klaus, Rebekah, and Caroline. He kept one in his hand and moved to the northern end of the field in which they stood.

"By dangling something she can't resist."

Elena tilted her head back to watch the full moon as it finished its ascent into the night sky. Miranda would be sent back to them in a matter of moments. Bonnie's spell would return her child to the present in the same place she had left the past.

Elena's eyes landed on Bonnie where she was busy casting a spell to ensure that Dahlia would be unable to see them from the mansion windows; the mansion that was less than twenty feet to the left of them. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes lighted on the ground as a glowing ball of light appeared in front of her toes.

"No," she hissed and broke from Elijah to crouch on the ground. Her hands reached out as the light faded away and closed around the tiny body of Miranda. "No," Elena shook her head and pulled her daughter to her chest.

Her protests came too late. Over her shoulder she heard the double doors of the mansion crash against the walls with a resounding bang.

Tags: @rissyrapp20 @elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn

#elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #bonnie bennett #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #rebekah mikaelson #fanfic #the vampire diaries

[apurpleaddledbaker]

Bee-Connect

Sometimes, after dreaming you’ve just watched your beefriend die, you gotta go make sure he’s ok, even if you’re still just a little bit of a frightened. You just motherfuckin gotta, my dudes.

@goldnblood

Gamzee

Your chest is heavin, darkness creepin in on your vision and lungs all tight an rapid as you try to breath breath breath through your panic-fear-terror and hold your landline receiver in shaking, trembling claws. You can’t get them to work, can’t get the numbers right and in order and it  should be simple, should be easy, you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve typed out that number before it shouldn’t be so hard now. 

Not when ya really need to. 

Ya finally, finally manage to get it right and get the call ta go through right proper and leavin ya waitin waitin for him to pick up pick up pick up please be ok

Sollux

You were working on something prior before you decided to take a short nap. Then your phone starts ringing and you begrudgingly pick it up, not looking at the caller ID before answering. 

"H.. Hello?" Your voice was a little hoarse, considering how you just woke up.

Gamzee

Oh he alive! Thank motherfuck! Some of that tightness is letting you go because he picked up and he's breathing and he sounds not the best but better than dead, thank fuck. 

"H-hey Sol," your voice sounds like you've just had a night terror, fear-tight and tear-heavy. "It's... it's Gamzee. Sorry if I, if I got you at a bad, a bad time. Can I... Is it ok if I... Can I come see you? Is, is that ok?"

Sollux

You immediately sit up at the greeting and your head might hurt later but you don't really care. 

"Gamzee?" You sound surprised but you shake your head at no one, "No, no -- it's okay, I wasn't doing anything. Of course it's okay if you want to come over."

Gamzee

"Thank you, thank you," you're so very relieved, he doesn't hate you, doesn't not want to see you, you'd been worried about that, wanted to give him space, but you just really need to make sure. "I'll um, I'll be there soon then, yeah? Yeah, th-thank you Sol." 

Your eyes are aching but you don't wanna cry again, especially not over the phone at him, not, not at all.

Sollux

"Yeah, sure, I'll be here and the door'll be open, okay? Just let yourself in," you tell him, carding a hand through your hair and slumping a little, "Take care on the way here."

Gamzee

"Yeah yeah, I... I will, I promise." You don't mean to take a quiet moment just to listen to him on the other end of the line, you just do. Then you realize what you're doing and shake yourself. "I'mma... I'mma hang up now and... yeah. See ya soon." Motherfuck you sound so stupid, time to hang up before you do something real fuckin stupid. 

Ya don't bother with putting ya paint on, don't bother with much beyond throwing some clothes on and tying ya hair up, collected and outta the way, before you're outside and on your way, quick as you can.

Sollux

"Yeah, okay," you murmur, looking at your phone when he hangs up and your cards another hand through your hair, groaning when you getting up too fast makes your head throb before you wheeze. 

"God..."

Gamzee

The trip to the hideout had been a good one for you, helped get that tightness outta your chest before you say him, it was a quick trip, it felt like you blinked and you were there, you're not thinking about lost time right now you're not, but you freeze in front of his door. You haven't been in there since the night... since then. You... haven't seen him since then... You shouldn't... shouldn't... you shouldn't. 

You take a breath, take a deep, steadying breath and raise your hand to knock on his door before you slip inside, you're not sure where you should be looking, not sure at all, you swallow heavily, voice shaky and stuttering. "Um... h-hi, hey." You might be pressed to the door a little bit, it's fine.

Sollux

The knock makes you look up and you stand so fast, you almost sway on your feet before you walk over and you pause, almost scared you'd hurt him and you falter to the point that your arms are open for him, but you can't bring yourself to hug him -- to hold him close. 

You swallow the tightness down and you move to just pull him into a hug, a tight one to let him know you're here and you accept him and hopefully... He accepts you too.

Gamzee

You freeze when he hugs you, you don't mean to, don't mean to at all but you do and you hate yourself for a moment but you still wrap your arms around him in return, bury your bare face in his shoulder and make a high, distressed whimper in your throat. You missed him, missed the smell and feel of him so, so much and the vision of him limp, bruised and gone from you is painted on your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," you mutter, eyes clenched closed because you're crying again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I missed you, I'm sorry."

Sollux

You shake your head, holding him close and choking out a sob before you move one of your hands to rest on his shoulder, pulling away to look at him, "No, no -- shh, shh -- it's not your fault you wanted space. I can't blame you. I... I hurt you, and I left you here while I... Got into more trouble and I-- God, I'm so sorry Gamzee -- I never meant to hurt you--"

Gamzee

You don’t want him to push you away and you cling tight for a moment before allowing him to move you, you’re trying so hard to keep your eyes on him. You’re shaking your head before he can even finish, no no no, no that wasn’t true at all, no.  

You raise your hands to his cheeks to cup his face, just hold him so you can look at him, press forward to press your forehead to his own as you start to shush him. “It’s ok Sol, I’m ok, I know you didn’t mean ta, ya were hurt, grieving, I ain’t blaming ya none for that, not at all I promise. I should have come see you sooner I should have, I’m sorry.”

Sollux

The hand on your cheek only makes your lips draw back as you bring up the hand on his shoulder to hold the hand on your cheek, and you give it a squeeze, closing your eyes when more tears fall and you just stay there, holding onto him. 

"I love you so much, Gamzee -- I'm scared, but I don't want to lose you, too-- it wasn't your fault."

Gamzee

The tears are just shattering your pumper, you shouldn’t have let yourself be so terrified of coming to see him, you’ve left him to himself too long, ya should’ve come see him sooner why didn’t you? 

“I know, I know,” your thumbs are moving in small circles on his skin, touching and feeling the good living, warmth of him. “I love you too, so so much, I know you didn’t mean it, that you didn’t mean to do... you’re not losing me anytime soon Sol, not unless you want me gone.” You hope he doesn’t, please don’t, please.

Sollux

"I would never," you tell him firmly, shaking your head and moving your head to press a soft, gentle kiss into his palm, lacing your fingers together and you turn back to him, moving to lean closer, "I would never want you gone. Even if my life depended on it."

Gamzee

“Then ya don’t need ta worry none do ya,” your voice breaks the smallest bit as ya try to give him a bit of humour, you’re hands are laced together and ya can’t even bring yaself to shift and adjust your fingers like you usually do. You can’t. He’s looking at you again. “Stuck with me for a bit longer.” 

 He’s leaning further into your space and you’re going to take that opportunity to kiss him, soft-gentle and tear-salted.

Sollux

"Wouldn't have it any other way," you murmur, chuckling a little, and you give his hand a small squeeze as he kisses you, eyes closing as you keep it gentle. 

It was his wriggling day, and you know. You have a present somewhere. But it would have to wait.

Gamzee

You pull away from him eventually and tuck your into his neck, just enough so you could press your nose against his skin and feel his heartbeat under his skin. 

“You... you’ve got things ya need doing right?” He has to, you don’t wanna distract him too much from that. “Can I... is it ok if I just... hang out in here for a while? I don’t... don’t wanna go just yet.”

Sollux

You hold him close, swaying a little before you shake your head. 

"Of course you can stay. I'm trying to... Give myself some time, before I get back to work. I kind of derailed from reality for a while, aha..."

Gamzee

You freeze, the fins on your ears fluttering in sharp, quick movements. “You’re sure?” You don’t wanna, don’t wanna take him from his important things, don’t want something terrible to happen again if you do. “Sure, sure?”

Sollux

"No, yes, I'm ... I've had a rough week... I don't wanna pull that off ever again," you murmur, moving to just rest your head on his chest, "I can't keep doing this, even if the voices say I should."

Gamzee

You’re stuck on what to do for a few breaths before you let yourself relax and curl around him, careful of his horns. “Ok,” quiet now, one of your hands moving to rest in his hair. It’d been longer last time you saw it, you like it better this length, you think, easier to just touch. 

“Ok, yeah, you can get ya restin on, I won’t bother ya.”

Sollux

You nod, and chuckle, wrapping your arms around him before you let out a soft breath. Then you pull away and look up at him, "Hang on." 

 And you walk over behind your system set up.

Gamzee

You don’t really wanna let him go, not, not at all, you wanna keep him close and safe and warm-living-breathing. But you let him go and you watch and you wait and you don’t start to curl into yourself at all. No you do not.

Sollux

You come out with a box -- not that big, but not that small either -- decorated with a purple wrap that had polka dots on it and you give it to him. 

"... Happy wriggling day, Gam."

Gamzee

... no. No you don’t want this you don’t do your wriggling day you don’t.  

“I don’t...” a helpless shake of your head as you try to get it into words that make sense for him. “I don’t, don’t have anything to do with today. I... I don’t it’s not...” 

You don’t take the box from him, your hands tuck into your side. No, just... just no.

Sollux

"Oh--" you remember seeing his posts online and. 

Mh. 

You idiot. 

How could you be so? Insensitive -- stupid -- itdiotic -- uncaring? 

Oh. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. Uhm. 

You spark very subtly before you clear your throat, trying to lessen the tight feeling in your chest before you fucking -- cough a little. You move to quickly put it away. 

"... I'm sorry."

Gamzee

You’re not really lookin at him so you miss the sparks, which is for the best really, got enough to deal with without addin that, hard enough to not just nope outta the situation entirely. 

But that wouldn’t be the right motherfuckin way ta deal with all of this so you’re not gonna, you’re gonna stay right here and breath a second, its ok, Sollux knows, don’t know how he does but he does, but he doesn’t know it’s fine. 

“S’alright, ya didn’t... not your fault, S’ok.”

Sollux

"No, I--" 

Mmh. 

You take a moment to breathe before you hold a hand out to him. 

"... Sleep with me...?"

Gamzee

Your gaze flicks between Sollux’s hand and his face. You don’t know if that’s a good idea. Last time you did... that happened. 

But that hadn’t been his fault. Hadn’t been either of your fault. You shouldn’t be hesitating as much as you are. 

But you are. 

You swallow heavily and slowly, all kinds of motherfuckin hesitant, you put your hand in his. 

“ok.”

Sollux

Your hand was shaking, and it was more evident now that Gamzee placed his hand in yours. Stop shaking damnit! 

You swallow thickly, leading him to bed and you sit down at the edge, rather tentative about what's going on between you and him before you run your thumb over his knuckles to try and lessen the shaking of your hand but to no avail. 

"... I'm sorry, Gamzee," you murmur before you could stop yourself, "I'm sorry for everything."

Gamzee

Oh, oh oh oh oh no he’s shaking. No that’s not, that’s not good, you don’t like that at all why is he shaking? 

It’s easy to let him lead you over to his easy, easy ta not look at the rest of the room and just focus on him, watch him, please stop, please it’s ok... 

You croon down at him, free hand moving up to curl into his hair and tip his face up so you can rub your cheek against his, skin touching without the barrier your paint usually provides. 

“I know,” you murmur back. “Forgave you already.”

Sollux

You swallow a lump in your throat before you nod, curling into him slightly -- still tentative for if you could hurt him again and you don't want that. 

You know you're dangerous. 

You just want to be near anyone and not hurt them. That's all you do though.

Gamzee

You chitter at him something soft, before ya nudge at him a bit. Ya want him ta move so ya can join him without having ta perch over him, hopefully so you can get him ta curl into ya for proper like he be wantin, like you be wantin him to. You're not scared, you're not, he's not any more dangerous than you are and he's fine with you. You can do this, you want to. 

"Budge up so I can be gettin my joinin on?" The question is a quiet one, fannin over his skin. "Imma spoon the motherfuck outta ya."

Sollux

That draws a slight chuckle from him and he smiles for once, moving to give him room and he reaches up to wipe his eyes. 

"I love you so fucking much," you murmur, brushing away the hair from your eyes as you do, watching him.

Gamzee

Look at that, got a good sound from him, good, good, so very pleased ta hear that. You've got room ta join him now so you're just gonna make that your room now, your space. "Love ya too," a bit louder than a murmur, quiet confident and sure. "So much it aches," You reach out for him again, one of your hands moving to trace tear-lines, the other moving to guide him down ta get his restin on. "Sleep, I ain't going no place, promise."

Sollux

You move closer, tucking yourself beneath his chin despite how tall you both were and you stay close, closing your eyes, "... I could say the same." 

And you sigh, holding onto him, relaxing so much more now that he's here.

Gamzee

There we go, good, better. You're definitely ignoring anything like tension-dread-panic that wants your attention because this is like last time, fuck that move. 

Breath instead, nothing's happening, it's all fine, you've got him right now and it's good for a while. 

"I will once you do," a tease as you wind around him. "Wanna see you restin first." 

He's chillin, relaxin against ya and that's all you've wanted for a lot longer than you wanted to admit, probably from when you'd awoken in the infirmary. Ya very pleased with this right now, pleased enough to be making them low growl-purr noises in ya chest for him.

Sollux

You're drifting off yourself, listening to the white noise of the comforting sounds he was making. 

You let out a breath, before you return the soft chittering, a soft purr from your own chest. 

If anything... If anything happened... 

You'd never be able to forgive yourself.

#rp log #discord rp #goldnblood #long post #// thank you for the good thread again i love

[thebritishblabbermouth]

Jungkook Fanfiction- BTS Mafia AU

Heyya :))

@atricksterwithwings requested a beautiful BTS mafia au, and I loved writing this for her. I’ve split it into three parts. Scroll down for the first and for the link to the latter. 

A/N: I’ve mentioned Zhang Yixing in this fanfiction aside from the other BTS members. Its totally okay if you dont know who he is...although you probably do, he’s like such a popular sheep ;) Find information about him here . 

Tell me your thoughts on this fanfic, Id love to receive any sort of feedback on my work and I totally think that likes and reblogs are recognition too :) Have fun reading, I know I really enjoyed writing this :) Its like 12 pages long on a word doc...idek anymore xP Jungkook is gorgeous. :) 

Also...there is cursing in this, mention of the mafia from different nationalities and part two and three are rated M (its smutty xP) Reader discretion is advised if any of these things bother you. 

Lots of love :) <3 - Enjoy :)  

PART 2

PART 3 (final)

1.

Jeon Jungkook stood at the 77th floor of Euphoria, the headquarters to the largest crime syndicate east of the Pacific Ocean. The height was dizzying for most, but not for him.

Jungkook had no fears; or so was assumed.

The man himself, was built at an impressive 6 feet and constituted of raw muscle, protein and a rather cynical approach towards life. Outwardly, the leader of the most legal crime syndicate was cold, intimidating and the type to burn you to ashes with a glare from his heated eyes.

Inwardly, he was exactly the same.

He was well aware of the effect he had on his employees, men and women who knew exactly of his affiliation with the Japanese Yazuka and the Italian Camorra yet pined to work under Jeon, the sheer power of his company bringing everyone to their knees with respect.

Euphoria was a giant.

It had dealings with government run telemarketing firms, banks, real estate agencies, alongside finance and technology markets. An easy way to convert money earned through extortion, gambling and trafficking to its pure and pristine form. The corrupt politicians whose elections he had funded didn’t complain. No one cared where the money came from and no one dared to ask otherwise. The cause of the founder’s formidable aura wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew how he had been tortured by his father, abandoned on the streets by a mother who seemed to love Heroin more than her own son. The story had been plastered all over the internet, and Jungkook would never deny reading through its many exaggerated versions. They were entertaining and did well to remind himself about how important money and power were, without those weapons, he too would be sitting in a room, writing about a life that belonged to someone else.

Materialism was reality and wealth- it’s currency.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘’Sir, your coffee…’’ you said, walking through the office doors, a skip in your stride. There was no knock. No hint of awkwardness, no aspect of fear in the way she spoke. If anything there was the undertone of coercion, almost coaxing the man to leave his billion dollar thoughts in the gutter and focus solely on the warm drink.

Your playful extortion had worked, he was focused. Just not on the coffee.

Three months ago, Euphoria had issued an internal opportunity- PA to Jeon Jungkook. The post received 3 applications from his 20,000 employees. Min Yoongi, his chief of finance and operations took to appointing the least qualified of the bunch, a woman- aged a mere 22 years. The pitch to his ever frightening boss had been simple. ‘’You’ve let down 30 men in the last 6 months. I am done handling my job as well your shit. Those Harvard lunatics are too busy tending to their stupid resumes and I don’t have time for the garbage they throw at me when you fire their sorry arses. You’re settling with the woman, she’s got sick parents to feed- she won’t give a damn for ego as long as you pay her on time.’’

Jungkook could only snarl at the curses, the audacity of the man to speak in the way he did. Anyone else and they’d be lying in a pool of their own blood within seconds of the first word spoken against him. But Min Yoongi couldn’t be touched and this was a fact.

Jeon Jungkook was putty in the hands of his elder brother.

Today, he sent thanks to his sibling, for his aggressive outburst and daunting approach. You were priceless and the best decision ever- professionally of course.

He gave no reply to your request, not even a glance spared in your direction as your placed the drink onto his desk. There were just a series of footsteps, the man walking over to his maple work table, ready to do as he was told.

You had no idea of the prerogatives you held, and at that point, neither did him. The slight tease in your voice had mellowed down completely- replaced with the air of innocence and obeisance. Jungkook groaned at the sight. 

‘’So I was thinking…it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow…and well…’’ you said... Shuffling your buckled black heels.

‘’You aren’t leaving early.’’

His abrupt command had no thought behind it. Other than the fact he couldn’t let you out of his sight for more than a few hours, often paging you unnecessarily just to make you think of him.

He doubted you ever would if he didn’t.

‘’I am not…my parents are flying in tomorrow…it’s a small get together at my place with a few colleagues. I figured since you didn’t have anything planned…you could join us?’’  

Your apprehensive feet clicked across the hardwood with anticipation, the weightlessness behind your request holding the air in a trance.

‘’You’re my personal assistant, not event manager. You do not handle my private affairs so don’t think for a second that I care about your stupid Christmas dinner or the family I saved from crumbling.’’

It wasn’t what he had intended to say. Rather, his mind had flourished a thought he needed to keep locked away. He wanted to tell you that he’d love to join your family, share potato salad and amusing anecdotes across the table... All the while pressing his hand into your thigh- a subtle promise of sinful satisfaction later that night. But he wouldn’t dare to voice his feelings. You didn’t need to get involved with his shit, the scars that graced his back or the life full of gluttony and gambles he had chosen to lead. It was compulsion, to remind you every second of every day that the apartment which he bestowed upon you just 3 floors below his office- was a gracious boon, a gift given to improve your petty life. You had to be reminded of your father and how had been released from Jail after almost overdosing on the crack he had envisioned to peddle. Jeon Jungkook had to remind you of how ugly your tear stained face looked as you begged on your knees- begged for him to save your family.

There was simply no other way.

If you weren’t reminded, you’d crawl your way into his heart and sit there- encasing it completely.

He was just a damned moth to your flame.

‘’I know…and I am trying…I am trying to repay you. Please. Come over. I won’t waste your time.’’ You said. The words articulated with a purpose, were laced with meaningful sorrow but you couldn’t help the small smile that graced your lips.

He hadn’t declined.

Jungkook noticed how your full lips turned upwards, noticed how you had bent your head downwards, trying to hide your amusement. He knew he hadn’t said no, he knew inside the pits of his soul that was going to attend. Your reaction publicised his private notions completely.

It wasn’t hard to hate you.

Rather, it was the easiest thing in the world. His life had been built upon layers of lies, fear, judgement and mistrust. You tore everything apart with one look. He despised the hold you had over him, envied your purity and tried his best to tarnish it with his own two hands. Even if it meant burning your entire persona to ashes. He was well aware of the impact his audacious remarks on your large heart, knew just how much you wished to throw your small fists at his chest in rebuttal- he could see it in your eyes. But he knew you’d never break.

‘’Get out. I don’t have time for you.’’

Fuck.

Why couldn’t he just say no?

Probably because the thought of abjuration had never once crossed his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~

11 pm saw him standing at your door, a bouquet of Lilly’s in his hand. The flowers had almost wilted away. What the hell was he doing? Why was he even here? There was no noise from behind the oakwood and why would there be?

Your offer had been for dinner, not a midnight snack.

He wasn’t going to come, prove you wrong and act smug about the ordeal. However he had shown up, at 7 pm, flowers fresh and suit prim. Ready to tap onto the door and shimmy himself into you…your apartment. But his confidence dropped as he heard your laughter, it was beautiful, natural and something he had never experienced before.

Jeon Jungkook had never made you laugh, but had every thought of hearing you scream.

It wouldn’t have mattered to him if you were any other woman, but the lack of knowledge frightened him, made him think there would be another man who would have the pleasure of witnessing both sounds.

Every. Single. Day.

His heart beat erratically, edging him into a state of worry and insanity. What the fuck was wrong with him? It would be a complete lie if he said he hadn’t just stood in front of your door for 3 hours, praying he didn’t hear sounds of men. The silence at 11 pm provided comfort and he walked away, only after dropping the Lilly’s inside the vase at your desk.

You had been pleasantly surprised the next day, and you knew exactly who they were from. The flowers- drained from their pretty colour -were beautiful nonetheless and you couldn’t help but run your hands over their soft petals.

They were perfect- just like him.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

2.

‘’See that guy over there…he’s checking you out hon.’’ Lisa, the American-Chinese intern, stirred her tea at an exceedingly sluggish pace. Her eyes were glued onto the 27 year old accountant who stood in the corner of the room, photocopying his work and humming to himself. She’d been a temporary employee at Euphoria Inc. for a bare 3 weeks but had done well to pair 4 couples with her self-praised matchmaking skills.

3 of said relationships had broken up within 24 hours. And thus, It was only natural that her impeccable track record attracted many an employee to her small cubicle, ready for her to set them up with dates and one night stands.

It seemed that you were her next target.

You sighed and turned to look at Jamie. He was tall, considerably well-built and had this collegiate boyish charm to his appeal, his long-slightly raven locks sat faultlessly over his glasses.

The image was so immaculate it made you uncomfortable.

I

However in your opinion, the man on the 77th floor was nothing short of perfection. His ruffled hair didn’t need to be waxed and placed as it were; it fell naturally and it made you want to run your hands through it. His rugged and damaged personality sheltered his otherwise kind heart and you saw right through the vile facade. You didn’t hope for him to change. Didn’t hope for him to suddenly become a goofy cheeky soul; the kind who would sit and chat with his workers.

You loved the man as he was. A little broken but a hell of a lot confident.

‘’Lisa…I don’t really want to date him…’’ You mumbled, eagerly emptying coffee beans into the machine.

She laughed at your reply and peeled her eyes away from the man. ‘’Who said anything about dating love? I just said he was checking you out.’’

It was hard not to grimace at her words but as crude as they were you had to smile politely. Offices were run on brutal honesty and cut throat depositions. There was no room for pleasantries or hospitality and any that appeared were a courteous formality. You hurried in your steps and brewed the concoction with ease. It was 8 am and he required his morning fix, even though he never actually asked you to prepare it. You had just finished placing his black on the tray and had turned around to deliver it when a firm body crashed into yours, spilling the brew all over your clothes and the floor. The heat burned through your blouse and scorched your skin, it had been hard to not curse at the pain but you dealt through it, eyes shut tight in response.

‘’Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!’’ said the voice. It was a man, sharply handsome, his cheekbones were protruding and you were sure his skin glowed. It didn’t take long to recognise him.

Kim Taehyung.

He had been a prospective fiancé, from a year ago.

From a time when you had no viable job, no future and the money the Kim Family offered in exchange for your hand in matrimony, had been a welcome surprise to your household. They were staunchly against same sex marriages and Park Jimin had been banned from their home with immediate effect. The marijuana had inflected your otherwise gentle father and he had agreed in seconds to the proposal, not once considering your opinion. You had declined Taehyung in private, and he had hugged you in thanks. The man was humble and docile in more ways than one, and his heart had been taken years ago- by none other, than his childhood piano teacher. There was no way Taehyung would’ve agreed.  

‘’Tae!’’ You screamed, surprised yet elated at the discovery.

‘’Hey there fiancé. Glad to know you remember me…but really, why do we always meet in the worst of situations.’’ He walked over to the counter as he spoke, grabbing up as many napkins as he could find. His gentle hands took to patting at your chest, handing you the tissues while doing so and it didn’t take long for to dry up your blouse.

‘’I thought you’d be more respectful than that. Letting your fiancé walk into my building and displaying yourself open for the man. Tch Tch…I guess a lowlife is always a low life no matter what her circumstance.’’ Jeon Jungkook stood against the door, leaning onto it with a posture that screamed indifference. But in all reality, Jungkook was seething.

The small Glock tucked into his suit was ready to fire and destroy Kim Taehyung and maybe even leave a flesh wound inside Jamie the accountant.

However in that minute, his primal desire had been to destroy you. How dare you hide the news of your engagement? How dare you wear that damned pastel pink blouse to work, and let another man touch you so unabashedly? How dare you smile when you saw your betrothed? He hated you for everything.

And he hated himself for falling for you.

‘’And who the hell is this Joker?’’ Taehyung turned around to look at Jeon, the tissues in his hand soiled from the spillage. He had been invited to the corporation by Min Yoongi, a dear friend who had promised him help with TaeMin Designs, an upcoming entrepreneurial, founded by his beautiful husband. It didn’t occur to him that he’d meet you, but he was pleased that he had.

You were wonderful.

If it hadn’t been for your confidence, he would have never proposed to Jimin, never left his awful family and never been as happy as he was now. He owed you his life and his prosperity.

‘’Tae…he’s my boss. I’ll talk to you later. Please. I’ll call you hmm?’’ you tried your best to nip the fight in the bud. Taehyung was cool headed but an agitated version of the man could lead to the emergence of fists and blood. You were lucky he understood your pleas, and he grunted towards Jungkook while exiting the room, the daggers leaving his eyes were filled with venom and anger.

‘’I’d like you to pay attention to your job. Not to every single man out there. Why don’t you just do as you’re told? I don’t care what you do and who you do it with when you’re out of here.’’ Jungkook straightened himself against the wall and pocketed his hands. He told himself he enjoyed watching your eyes brim, told himself that his anger was justified. But god knows how much he wanted to cradle you and whisper apologies until you were forced to believe them.

‘’Let’s keep your sluttish acts away from the office hmm?’’

It was a harsh blow, enough to cause the first tear to slip from their confines. Why did he have to behave like that?

Why did you have to love him regardless of the way he did? 

~~~~~~~

3.  

‘’How long is it going to take you leave? It’s pretty simple. Take the bag to KM Constructions, drop it there and leave. What’s so hard? '' Jungkook’s anger had sky rocketed ever since the incidence in the cafeteria and he didn’t even understand why he was asking you to be a bag drop. Never once in a career spanning 6 years had he ever made a woman a part of a deal. But it seemed that you were an exception with everything.

‘’I am just leaving Sir.’’ You said, buttoning up the grey pea coat.

He noticed how inappropriately dressed you were, how feminine and vulnerable. He knew how lecherous men could be, knew it wasn’t safe. But annoyance clouded his senses and he threw the thoughts away. It was simple enough, no interactions. You’d be fine.

If only he knew.

Part 2

Part 3 

#bts #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfic rec #bts fanfiction #bts romance #bts mafia au #bts reaction #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #bts jk #bts jungkook #love #romance #smut #mafia #mafia boss #yoongi #bts suga #bts v #bts jimin #taehyungxjimin #park jimin #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #zhang yixing #lay #yixing #fluff #jungkook smut

[bbskars-blog]

Bill Skarsgard Imagine

Bill Skarsgard x reader 

Requested: “The reader finds out she's pregnant & she's really nervous to tell bill. So she doesn't for a while until the stress of bill being gone all the time , her working in her own career, and just plain stress of life becomes too much for her causing her body to shut down. Bills at work when he gets a call your in the hospital and when he finds out he gets super pissed and worried bc you didn't tell him. But he's also over the moon in excitement”

Your pov

You stood over the sink looking at the multiple pregnancy tests. They were all positive. You were nervous, you were beyond nervous. You've always wanted kids but you weren't sure if Bill would want to have kids with you. I mean you guys aren't even married yet. You just lived together. 

You were scared that Bill wouldn't want to keep the baby. He has his career that's just starting to take off. IT had just been released in theatres so everybody's been buzzing about him. Casting directors are looking at him for there own projects.

Not even to mention your own career in the entertainment industry. You were an actress as well but not as known as he was becoming yet. You wanted to be known by your name not his. As of recently, you were got the role in a movie that was predicted to do well in theatres. You were casted as Wonder Woman in the DC franchise (because I love wonder woman alot and i'm excited for the justice league movie). You were already in shape and was due for filming in a few weeks. Your career, in short, was starting to take off as well.

You and him didn't have time to raise a baby. You both had your different careers that you needed to worry about.

You slide down onto the bathroom floor, knees brought up to your chest. You were conflicted. You wanted to have this child but at the same time you didn't. You thought to yourself, you were selfish.You wanted to keep doing what you loved, which was acting. 

You knew you could keep filming even though you were pregnant. They could also get rid of the bump with cgi. But one of the things you loved to do was your own stunts. Yes something that small of doing stunts. You had lived by the motto "you only live once" and because of that when it came to acting, you were always keeping up what was going on. All casting calls, seeing something that is interesting.

You knew you were being selfish, because after 9 months you could get back to doing your own things. You were addicted to your year, you enjoyed it so much that you didn't want to stop until you died.

You were also thinking in your mind that you wanted to be financially good.  You and Bill lived in an apartment, there was no room for a baby.

There were a lot of things that you thought you were missing when you found out you were pregnant just a few moments ago. You always dreamed of being pregnant and having your own children but you wanted to have a house first, enough money to not go to work for awhile. You also wanted to be married to someone before you got pregnant and Bill and you weren't.

You were always a profectionist and always needed things to be done the way you thought them to be other wise you would be stressed out. Sooner or later you would realize you were being childish and be happy again but not of the things that happened in the past were permanent like they were now.

A few hours later you were in the kitchen cooking dinner for you and Bill. You heard the door open and close. 

"Babe, I'm home."

"In here," you replied back.

Bill came into the kitchen. You looked up from what you were doing and stared at him. Bill came up and kissed you on the head and looked you in the eyes.

"You alright?" Bill asked you. You nodded and put on a fake smile. You weren't going to tell Bill you were pregnant yet. He didn't have to know yet. Or he didn't need to know at all. You could get an abortion and then when things turned out the way you imagined them, you would try again.

You shook your head, you were being selfish again. You would wait a few weeks when you would accept that this is reality and things wouldn't be turning out the way you wanted. You would wait until you were okay with what was happening.

You and Bill  left to go film your movies. Him filming Emperor and you filming Wonder Woman. You were still thinking about the whole pregnant thing. You didn't tell anyone wanting to keep it to yourself until you thought things through. If you got an abortion you would feel guilty for the rest of your life and wouldn't be able to forgive yourself.

You were preparing for your scenes in Wonder Woman, you guys were in England filming the story getting to the battle. While trying to attempt to put on your Wonder Woman red and blue armour, arose some complications. It didn't fit.

"What do you mean it doesn't fit?" The costume designer asked you.

"It's too tight," you replied motioning to your chest and stomach.

The costume designer looked at you confused. You were starting to panick. You didn't want to intentionally kill the baby but you also didn't want anybody to know because then word would get out and Bill would be mad for not telling him first.

You then somehow shimmied your way out of the armour. The same time, the director, Paddy came in. You looked at her worried. You knew she wouldn't mind but you didn't want anybody to know.

Patty was having a conversation with the costume director asking what they could do to fix it from being tight.

"I mean, it's supposed to be tight," Patty said carefully. You looked at her and nodded your head, signaling that you knew it was supposed to be tight.

"I mean, you fit this when you filmed Batman vs Superman," Patty continued.

"I don't know what happened, all I know is that when I put on I couldn't breathe." Maybe it was you being stressed from everything that was making it hard for you to breathe.

When you looked away the air around you started to grow hot and you felt it harder to breathe, you also wanted to cry. You started panicking and quickly passed out.

Bills pov

Bill was on set filming his new movie Emperor while you filmed Wonder Woman. He was extremely proud of you. He missed you a lot because when he got home from promoting IT and doing interviews, a week later you guys had to go your separate ways to film your own movies. That's what was hard about being an actor, which was being away from the ones you loved for a long time.

He was in his trailer going over his lines when his phone started ringing. He looked at the caller ID to see that he didn't recognize the number. He would've picked up but he didn't recall auditioning for anything, so he ignored it. Continuing to read his lines, his phoen rang again. The same caller calling. He decided after a few seconds of looking at his phone that it could be important.

"Hello?" He asked into his phone.

"Um.....Is this Bill, y/n's boyfriend Bill Skarsgard...." the voice on the other end was female and sounded worried. He put his script on the table and stood up, now being worried himself about you.

"Yes, is something wrong?"

"Um....I'm Patty....The director of Wonder Woman. You know your girlfriend is supposed to be filming now...."

"What do you mean supposed to? Is she okay?" He asked a little more frightened.

"Well....she sort of passed out. We don't know why. She was being fitted for her costume and it didn't fit, she sat down, and the next thing I know her head falls onto the table and she's unconscious."

Bill couldn't speak. For all he knew was that he needed to get to you and he needed to get to you now.

"Where is she?" He asked and started gathering his stuff.

"We took her to (hospital name), I'm in the waiting room write now."

"I'm on my way, keep me updated on her condition."

"Will do," Paddy said and he hung up. He told the director where he was going and what happened. He excused him to go and said that they could put off filming for a little while.

-At the hospital-

Bill had just arrived at the hospital. Patty had sent him directions of where to go and how to find them when he got there. Once at the hospital he found Paddy, and asked how you were doing.

"They said that she's fine," he looked confused, "that she passed out due to being stressed. But I've never seen her do this though." Patty knew you and she knew you weren't the type to pass out from stress for no one reason.

"I..um, have to go," Patty told Bill. Bill nodded understandingly.

"I'll tell keep you updated on how she is."

"Thank you," Patty said. She put her hand on Bills shoulder and smiled weakly and left. Bill was outside your room looking at you through the glass, you were sleeping.

You were never like this. Patty knew that too. The doctor came out and saw Bill.

"Are you family?" The doctor asked him.

"I'm her husband," Bill said quickly, afraid that if he said boyfriend that he would kick him out because being your boyfriend isn't technically family, by law.

The doctor nodded, "Well she just passed out from too much stress. She should be fine. She will be ready to leave in a few days."

Bill nodded, glad that you were okay.

"Also, the baby is going to be alright too. Baby's normal, even after that little stress attack," the doctor told Bill finally.

Bill looked confused, "Baby?"

The doctor looked up from the papers from his clipboard, "Yes, healthy baby. It's a good thing the baby wasn't harmed when she....." he motioned towards you.

Bill nodded weakly and poiltely said thank you. He watched as the doctor left and went into the hospital room you were in and sat beside you.

Your pov

You opened your eyes slowly and looked around the room. You had woken up before and fell back to asleep. You adjusted to the bright lights in the room. When you were fully awake you looked to your right to see Bill. He was sitting on a chair and looked like he had been crying.

"Bill?" you said weakly.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" He asked you seriously. You could tell there was anger in his voice. You didn't know what to say to him. You didn't know where to start, so you just layed there, wasn't like you were going anywhere to begin with.

Bill got up from the chair angrily and you watched as the chair fell over.

"Why didn't you tell me we were having a baby y/n!"

"I wanted to but I didn't...." 

"You didn't what?" You just shrugged you didn't know if you wanted to tell him.  

"You didn't what?"

"I didn't know if I wanted to keep it!" You finally said to him with tears in your eyes. 

"What?" Bill said softly now. 

"With everything that's been happening," you now started crying, "I'm selfish. I haven't gotten married. I don't have a house. I have a movie I need to film, multiple because there's multiple movies where I need to portray Wonder Woman in, which will take me away from home....." you were now balling your eyes out, hands covering your eyes as you let the tears run down your face.

You kept crying until you felt a dip in the bed next to you. You felt long legs near your legs and you felt gigantic hands touch yours and pull your small ones away from your eyes. Bill was holding your hands in one hand and in the other he turned your face so you would look at him.

"Is that why you're stressed?" You nodded weakly, "over all those small things?"

"Those things aren't small to me!" You looked away and tried to pull your hands free from Bill but even with muscles he was still stronger than you.

"We could always get married after you give birth," you looked at him with a weak smile. "In fact, we don't we don't have to invite our baby there. We cold act like you were never pregnant, go on our honeymoon, have sex, pretend your pregnant for 9 months by putting a basketball in you shirt and then, there's our baby being handed to us by Alexander."

You laughed and Bill smiled.

"We're not doing that," you said to him. He just smiled. 

"It was a good plan in my head," he said to you. You just laughed at him. No matter what Bill could always make you smile.

You looked at Bill and you saw his smile growing wider and wider.

"What?" You asked him. 

"I can't believe we're going to be parents." You just smiled. Maybe you should've told Bill from the beginning. He could've helped you through all this stress.

You guys just stared at each other and admired each other. Bill took a strand of your hair and put it behind your hear.

"Don't worry, we'll figure things out." Bill said and you believed him. Because when it came to him, doing anything with him is perfect already.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård imagine

[suchagiantnerd]

54 Books, 1 Year

2018 was my first full year back at work after my mat leave, and thanks to all the time I spend on the subway, my yearly reading total is back up to over 50 books!

2018 was a dark year, and I made a conscious effort to read more books from authors on the margins of society. The more those of us with privilege take the time to listen to and learn from these voices, the better we’ll be as friends, colleagues and citizens.

You’ll also notice a lot of books about witchcraft and witches in this year’s list. What can I say? Dark times call for resorting to ANYTHING that can help dig us out of our current reality, including putting a hex on Donald Trump.

Trigger Warning: Some of the books reviewed below are about mental illness, suicide, domestic violence, sexual assault, and violence against people of colour, Indigenous people and people in the LGBTQ community.

Here are this year’s mini reviews:

1.       The Lottery and Other Stories / Shirley Jackson

Jackson’s short stories were published in the late forties and fifties, but their slow-burning creep factor holds up today. The stories involve normal people doing normal things until something small gives, and we realize something is really wrong here. As you read through the collection, take note of the mysterious man in blue. He appears in about half of the stories, always in the margins of the action. Who is he? I read him as a bit of a trickster figure, bringing chaos and mayhem with him wherever he goes. Other people have read him as the devil himself. Let me know what you think!

2.       The Ship / Antonia Honeywell

I was excited to read this YA novel about a giant cruise ship-turned-ark, designed and captained by the protagonist Lalla’s father in a dystopic near future. The premise of the book is great and brings up lots of juicy questions – where is the ship going? How long can the passengers survive together in a confined space? How did Lalla’s father choose who got to board the ship? But the author’s execution was a disappointment and focused far too much on Lalla’s inner turmoil and immaturity.

3.       The Hot One: A Memoir of Friendship, Sex and Murder / Carolyn Murnick

My book club read this true crime memoir detailing the intense, adolescent friendship between Carolyn, the author, and Ashley, who was murdered in her home in her early 20s a few years after the girls’ friendship fizzled. Murnick is understandably destroyed by the murder and obsessed with the killer’s trial. The narrative loops back and forth between the trial and the girls’ paths, which diverged sharply after Ashley moved away in high school. Murnick (the self-proclaimed nerdy one) muses on the intricacies of female friendship, growing up under the microscope of the male gaze, and the last weekend she ever spent with Ashley (the hot one). This is an emotional, detailed account of a woman trying her best to bear witness to her friend’s horrific death and to honour who she was in life.

4.       The Break / Katherena Vermette

Somebody is brutally attacked on a cold winter night in Winnipeg, and Stella, a young Métis woman and tired new mother is the only witness – and even she isn’t sure what she saw. The police investigation into the attack puts a series of events in motion that make long-buried emotions bubble to the surface and ripple outwards to touch a number of people in the community, including an Indigenous teenager recently released from a youth detention center, one of the investigating officers (a Métis man walking a fine line between two worlds), and an artist. This is a tough read, especially in the era of #MMIW and #MeToo, but all the more important because of it.

5.       So You Want to Talk About Race / Ijeoma Oluo

Probably the most important book I read this year, I will never stop recommending this read to anyone and everyone. This is your Allyship 101 syllabus right here, folks. Do you really want to do better and be better as an ally? Then you need to read every chapter closely and start implementing the lessons learned right away. This book will teach you about tone policing, microaggressions and privilege, and how all of those things are harmful to people of colour and other marginalized communities.

6.       The Accusation / Bandi

This is a collection of short stories by a North Korean man (written under a pseudonym for his protection as he still lives there). The stories were actually smuggled out of the country for publication by a family friend. The characters in these stories are regular people living regular lives (as much as that is possible in North Korea). What really comes across is the fine line between laughter and tears while living under the scrutiny of a dangerous regime. There are several scenes where people laugh uncontrollably because they can’t cry, and where people start to cry because they can’t laugh. This book offers a rare perspective into a hidden world.

7.       Being Jazz: My Life as a (Transgender) Teen / Jazz Jennings

Some of you will be familiar with Jazz via the TLC show about her and her family, “I Am Jazz”. I’d never seen it but was inspired to read the book to gain a better understanding about what coming out as trans as a child is like. Jazz came out to her family at 5 years old (!) and her parents and siblings have had her back from the beginning. If you are still having a tough time understanding that trans women are women, full stop, this book will help get you there.

8.       A Field Guide to Getting Lost / Rebecca Solnit

When it comes to the books that gave me “all the feels”, this one tops the 2018 list. Solnit is everything - historian, writer, philosopher, culture lover, explorer. Her mind is always making connections and as you follow her through her labyrinthine thoughts you start to feel connected too. Her words on loss, nostalgia and missing a person/place/time actually made me cry, they were so true. For me, an agnostic leaning towards atheism, she illuminated the magic in the everyday that made me feel more spiritually rooted to life than I have in a long time.

9.       I Found You / Lisa Jewell

Lots of weird and bad things seem to happen in British seaside towns, don’t they? This is another psychological thriller, à la “The Girl on the Train” and “Gone Girl”. One woman finds a man sitting on the beach one morning. He has no idea who he is or how he got there. Miles away, another woman wakes up one morning to find her husband has vanished. Is the mystery man on the beach the missing husband? Dive into this page-turner and find out!

10.   The Midnight Sun / Cecilia Ekbäck

This novel is the sequel to a historical Swedish noir book I read a few years ago. Though it’s not so much a sequel, as it is a novel taking place in the same setting – Blackasen Mountain in Lapland. This story actually takes place about a hundred years after the first novel does, so it can be read on its own. Ekbäck’s stories dive into the effect of place on people – whether it’s the isolation of a harsh and long winter or the mental havoc caused by the midnight sun on sleep patterns, the people on Blackasen Mountain are always strained and ready to explode. (Oh, and there’s also a bit of the supernatural happening on this mountain too – but just a bit!)

11.   After the Bloom / Leslie Shimotakahara

Strained mother-daughter relationships. The PTSD caused by immigration and then being detained in camps in your new home. Fraught romances. Shimotakahara’s novel tackles all of this and more. Taking place in two times – 1980s Toronto and a WWII Japanese internment camp in the California desert – this story of loss, hardship, betrayal and family is both tragic and hopeful.

12.   Company Town / Madeline Ashby

In this Canadian dystopian tale, thousands of people live in little cities built on the oil rigs off the coast of Newfoundland. Hwa works as a bodyguard for the family that owns the rigs and is simultaneously trying to protect the family’s youngest child from threats, find out who is killing her sex-worker friends, mourn her brother (who died in a rig explosion), and work through her own self-esteem issues. Phew! If it sounds like too much, it is. I really did like this book, but I think it needed tighter editing and focus.

13.   The Power / Naomi Alderman

In the near-future, women and girls all over the world develop the ability to send electrical shocks out of their hands. With this newfound power, society’s gender power imbalance starts to flip. The U.S. military scrambles to try and work this to their advantage. A new religious movement starts to grow. And Tunde, a Nigerian photographer (and a dude!) travels the world, trying to document it all. This is an exciting novel that seriously asks, “what if?” in which many of the key characters cross paths.

14.   Milk and Honey / Rupi Kaur

Everyone’s reading it, so I had to too! Kaur’s poems are refreshing and healing, and definitely accessible. This is poetry for the people, for women, for daughters, mothers and sisters. These are poems about how women make themselves small and quiet, about our inner anger, about sacrifice, longing and love.

15.   Tell It to the Trees / Anita Rau Badami

In the dead of winter in small-town B.C., the body of big-city writer Anu is found outside of the Dharmas’ house, frozen to death. Anu had been renting their renovated shed, working on a novel in seclusion. As we get to know the Dharmas – angry and controlling Vikram, his quiet and frightened wife Suman, the two children, and the ghost of Vikram’s first wife, Helen, we feel more and more uneasy. Was Anu’s death just a tragic accident, or something else entirely? There is a touch of “The Good Son” in this novel…

16.   You Are a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life / Jen Sincero

This book was huge last year and my curiosity got the better of me. But I can’t, I just can’t subscribe to this advice! All of this stuff about manifesting whatever you want reeks of privilege and is just “The Secret” repackaged for millennials and Gen-Z. Thank u, next!

17.   All the Things We Never Knew: Chasing the Chaos of Mental Illness / Sheila Hamilton

Shortly after a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, Hamilton’s husband, David, took his own life after years of little signs and indicators that something wasn’t right. Her memoir, in the aftermath of his death, is a reckoning, a tribute, and a warning to others. In it, she details the fairy tale beginning of their relationship (but even then, there were signs), the birth of their only child, and the rocky path that led to his final choice. Hamilton’s story doesn’t feel exploitative to me. It’s an important piece in the global conversation about mental health and includes lots of facts and statistics too.

18.   This Is How It Always Is / Laurie Frankel

This is a beautiful novel about loving your family members for who they are and about the tough choices parents have to make when it comes to protecting their children. Rosie and Penn have five boys (that this modern couple has five children is the most unbelievable part of the plot, frankly), but at five years old, their youngest, Claude, tells the family that he is a girl. Claude changes her name to Poppy, and Rosie and Penn decide to move the whole family to more inclusive Seattle to give Poppy a fresh start in life. Of course, the move has consequences on the other four children as well, and we follow everybody’s ups and downs over the years as they adjust and adapt to their new reality.

19.   Dumplin’ / Julie Murphy

While I didn’t love the writing or any of the characters, I do need to acknowledge the importance of this YA novel in showing a fat teenager as happy and confident in who she is. Willowdean Dickson has a job, a best friend and a passion for Dolly Parton. She also catches the attention of cute new kid, Bo, and a sweet summer romance develops between the two (with all of the miscommunications and misunderstandings you’d expect in a YA plot). This is an important book in the #RepresentationMatters movement, and is now a Netflix film if you want to skip the read!

20.   Kintu / Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi

This was touted as “the great Ugandan novel” and it did not disappoint! The first part of the novel takes place in 1754, as Kintu Kidda, leader of a clan, travels to the capital of Buganda (modern day Kampala) with his entourage to pledge allegiance to the new Kabaka. During the journey, tragedy strikes, unleashing a curse on Kintu’s descendants. The rest of the novel follows five modern-day Ugandans who are descended from Kintu’s bloodline and find themselves invited to a massive family reunion. As their paths cross and family histories unfold, will the curse be broken?

21.   The Child Finder / Rene Denfeld

I bought this at the airport as a quick and thrilling travel read, and that’s exactly what it was. Naomi is a private investigator with a knack for finding missing and kidnapped children. This is because she was once a kidnapped child herself. The plot moves back and forth in time between Naomi’s current case and her own escape and recovery. There was nothing exceptional about this book, but it’s definitely a page-turner.

22.   Difficult Women / Roxane Gay

Are the women in Gay’s short stories actually difficult? Or has a sexist, racist world made things difficult for them? I think you know what my answer is. The stories are at times beautiful - like the fairy tale about a woman made of glass, and at times violent and visceral – like a number of stories about hunting and butchering. Women are everything and more.

23.   My Education / Susan Choi

I suggested this novel to my book club and I will always regret it. This was my least favourite read of the year. I thought it was going to be about a sexy and inappropriate threesome or love triangle between a student, her professor, and his wife. Instead it had a few very unsexy sex scenes and hundreds and hundreds of pages about the minutiae of academic life. I can’t see anyone enjoying this book except English professors and grad students.

24.   Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities / Rebecca Solnit

This series of essays was a balm to my soul after Ford won the provincial election. It reminded me that history is full of steps forward and steps back, and though things look bleak right now, there are millions of us around the world trying to make positive changes in big and little ways as we speak.

25.   The Woman in Cabin 10 / Ruth Ware

Another novel in the vein of “The Woman on the Train”, that is, a book featuring a young, female, unreliable narrator. Lo knows what she saw – or does she? There was a woman in the now empty Cabin 10 – or was there? And also, Lo hasn’t been eating or sleeping. But she’s been drinking a lot and not taking her medication. I’m kind of done with this genre – anyone else?

26.   My Brilliant Friend / Elena Ferrante

After hearing many intelligent women praise this novel (the first in a four-part series), my book club decided to give it a try. I didn’t fall in love with it, but I was sufficiently intrigued by the intense and passionate friendship between Lila and Lenu, two young girls growing up in post-war Naples, that I will likely read the whole series. Many claim that no writer has managed to capture the intricacy of female friendship the way that Ferrante has.

27.   The Turquoise Table: Finding Community and Connection in Your Own Front Yard / Kristin Schell

This is Schell’s non-fiction account of how she started Austin’s turquoise table movement (which has now spread further into other communities). Schell was feeling disconnected from her immediate community, so she painted an old picnic table a bright turquoise, moved it into her front yard, and started sitting out there some mornings, evenings and weekends - sometimes alone, and sometimes with her family. Neighbours started to gather for chats, snacks, card games, and more. People got to know each other on a deeper level and friendships bloomed. This book is a nice reminder that small actions matter. A small warning though – Schell is an evangelical Christian, and I didn’t know this before diving in. There is a focus on Christianity in the book, and though it’s not quite preachy, it’s very in-your-face.

28.   Sing, Unburied, Sing / Jesmyn Ward

This was hands-down my favourite novel of the year. It’s a lingering and haunting look at the generational trauma carried by the descendants of those who were enslaved and lived during the Jim Crow era. One part road trip novel, one part ghost story, the plot follows a fractured, multi-racial family as they head into the broken heart of Mississippi to pick up the protagonist’s father, who has just been released from prison.

29.   Full Disclosure / Beverley McLachlin

This is the first novel by Canada’s former Chief Justice, Beverley McLachlin. As someone who works in the legal industry and has heard her speak, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on this. But, with all due respect to one of the queens, the book was very ‘meh’. The plot was a little over the top, the characters weren’t sufficiently fleshed out, and I felt that the backdrop of the Robert Pickton murders was somewhat exploitative and not done respectfully. Am I being more critical of this novel than I might otherwise be because the author is so intelligent? Likely yes, so you can take this review with a grain of salt.

30.   The Long Way Home / Louise Penny

This is the 10th novel in Penny’s Inspector Gamache mystery series. As ever, I fell in love with her descriptions of Quebec’s beauty, the small town of Three Pines, and the delicious food the characters are always eating. Penny’s books are the definition of cozy.

31.   In the Skin of a Lion / Michael Ondaatje

Ondaatje has the gift of writing novels that read like poetry, and this story is no exception. Taking place in Toronto during construction of the Don Valley bridge and the RC Harris water treatment plant, the plot follows a construction worker, a young nun, an explosives expert, a business magnate and an actress as they maneuver making a life for themselves in the big city and changing ideas about class and gender.

32.   The Story of a New Name / Elena Ferrante

This is the second novel in Ferrante’s four-part series about the complicated life-long friendship between Lila and Lenu. In this installment, the women navigate first love, marriage, post-secondary education, first jobs and new motherhood.

33.   The Happiness Project / Gretchen Rubin

In this memoir / self-help book, Rubin studies the concept of happiness and implements a new action or practice each month of the year that is designed to increase her happiness levels. Examples include practicing gratitude, going to bed earlier, making time for fun and learning something new. Her journey inspired me to make a few tweaks to my life during a difficult time, and I do think they’ve made me more appreciative of what I have (which I think is a form of happiness?)

34.   The Virgin Suicides / Jeffrey Eugenides

I loved the film adaptation of this novel when I was a teenager, but I’d never actually read it until my book club selected it. Eugenides paints a glimmering, ethereal portrait of the five teenaged Lisbon sisters living a suffocating half-life at the hands of their overly protective and religious parents. The story is told through the eyes of the neighbourhood boys who longed for them from a distance and learned about who they were through snatched telephone calls, passed notes and one tragic suburban basement party.

35.   Time’s Convert / Deborah Harkness

This is a supernatural fantasy novel that takes place in the same universe of witches, vampires and daemons as Harkness’ All Souls trilogy. The plot follows the romance between centuries-old vampire Marcus, who came of age during the American Civil War, and human Phoebe, who begins her own transformation into a vampire so that she and Marcus can be together forever.

36.   The Saturday Night Ghost Club / Craig Davidson

Were you a fan of the TV show “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” If yes, this novel is for you. Davidson explores the blurred line between real-life tragedy and ghost story over the course of one summer in 1980s Niagara Falls. A coming-of-age novel that’s somehow sweet, funny and sad all at once, this story delves into the aftershocks of trauma and the way we heal the cracks in families.

37.   Oh Crap! Potty Training: Everything Modern Parents Need to Know to Do It Once and Do It Right / Jamie Glowacki

I hoped this was the book for us, but I don’t think it was. Some of the tips were great, but others really didn’t work for us. The other issue is that the technique in this book is much better suited to kids staying at home with a caregiver, not kids in daycare.

38.   The Witch Doesn’t Burn in This One / Amanda Lovelace

This is a collection of poetry about women’s anger, women’s long memories and strength in sisterhood. It’s accessible, emotional and a bit of a feminist rallying cry. As someone who is obsessed with the Salem witch trials, I also loved the historical backdrop to the poems.

39.   The Rules of Magic / Alice Hoffman

I love to read seasonally, and this prequel to “Practical Magic” was a perfect October book. Remember Jet and Franny, the old, quirky aunts from the movie? This novel describes their upbringing, along with that of their brother Vincent, as the three siblings discover their powers and try to out-maneuver the Owens family curse.

40.   Witch: Unleased. Untamed. Unapologetic. / Lisa Lister

This book has a very sleek, appealing cover. Holding it made me feel magical. Reading it really disappointed me. From Lister’s almost outright transphobia to her unedited, repetitive style, this was a huge disappointment and I don’t recommend it.

41.   The Death of Mrs. Westaway / Ruth Ware

I liked this novel a lot more than Ware’s other novel, “The Woman in Cabin 10”. Crumbling English manor homes, long-buried family evils and people trapped together by snowstorms are my jam.

42.   Weirdo / Cathi Unsworth

Another British seaside town, another grisly murder. Jumping back and forth between a modern-day private investigation and the parental panic around cults and Satanism in the 1980s, Unsworth unpacks the darkness lurking within a small community and the way society’s outcasts are often used as scapegoats. The creep factor grows as the story unfolds.

43.   Mabon: Rituals, Recipes and Lore for the Autumn Equinox / Diana Rajchel

And so begins my witchy education. I have to admit, I really liked learning about the historical pagan celebrations and superstitions surrounding harvest time. I also liked reading about spells and incantations… ooooOOOOoooo!

44.   From Here to Eternity: Travelling the World to Find the Good Death / Caitlin Doughty

In North America, we are so removed from death that we are unequipped to process it when someone close to us dies. But this doesn’t have to be the case. In this non-fiction account, Doughty, a mortician based in L.A., travels the world learning about the business of death, the cultural customs around mortality, and the rituals of care and compassion for the deceased in ten different places. It seems that the closer we are to death, the less we’ll fear it, and the better-equipped we’ll be to process loss and grief in healthy ways.

45.   Samhain: Rituals, Recipes and Lore for Halloween / Diana Rajchel

Did you know that Samhain is actually pronounced “Sow-en”? I didn’t until I read this book, and felt very intelligent indeed, when later, while watching “The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina” on Netflix, the head witch pronounced the word as “Sam-hain”, destroying the writers’ credibility in one instant. I am a witch now.

46.   See What I Have Done / Sarah Schmidt

This novel is a retelling of the Lizzie Borden murders, illuminated through four characters – Lizzie herself, the Borden’s maid Bridget, Lizzie’s sister, and a mysterious man hired the day before the murders by Lizzie’s uncle to intimidate Mr. Borden (one of the murder victims). I knew very little about the murders before reading this book, but this version of the tale strongly suggests that Lizzie really is the murderer. Unhinged, childlike, selfish and manipulative, I hated her so much and felt awful for everyone that had to live in her orbit.

47.   The Nature of the Beast / Louise Penny

In the 11th installment of Penny’s Inspector Gamache mystery series, she sets the story up with a parallel to the boy who cried wolf and introduces us to her first killer without a soul. Crimes of passion and greed abound in Penny’s universe, but a crime of pure, cold evil? This is a first.

48.   How Are You Going to Save Yourself? / J.M. Holmes

This is a powerful collection of short stories about what it’s like to be a Black man in America right now. It’s about Black male friendship, fathers and sons, outright racism and dealing with a lifetime of microaggressions. Holmes makes some risky and bold decisions with his characters, even playing into some of the harmful stereotypes about Black men while subverting some of the others. This book really stayed with me. One disturbing story in particular I kept turning around and around in my mind for days afterward.

49.   Split Tooth / Tanya Tagaq

This is a beautiful story about a young Inuit girl growing up in Nunavut in the 1970s, combining gritty anecdotes about bullying, friendship, family and addiction with Inuit myth, legend, and the magic of the Arctic. The most evocative and otherworldly scenes in the novel took place under the Northern Lights and left me kind of mesmerized.

50.   Motherhood / Sheila Heti

Heti’s book is a work of fiction styled as a memoir, during which the protagonist, nearing her 40s, weighs the pros and cons of having a baby. I’ve maybe never felt so “seen” by an author before. I agonized over the decision about whether to have a baby for years before finally making a decision. The unsatisfying, but freeing conclusion that both the author and I came to is that for many of us there is no right choice (but no wrong choice either).

51.   The Mistletoe Murder and Other Stories / P.D. James

This is a short collection of James’ four “Christmas-y” mysteries published over the course of a number of years. It was a perfect cozy read to welcome the holiday season.

52.   The Christmas Sisters / Sarah Morgan

Morgan’s story is a Hallmark holiday movie in book form. A family experiencing emotional turmoil at Christmas? Check. Predictable romances, old and new? Check. A beautiful, festive setting? Check. (In this case, it’s a rustic inn nestled in the Scottish Highlands). This novel is fluff, but the most delightful kind.

53.   Jonny Appleseed / Joshua Whitehead

Jonny is a Two-Spirit Ojibway-Cree person who leaves the reservation in his early 20s to escape his community’s homophobia and make it in the city. Making ends meet as a cybersex worker, the action begins when he has to scrape together enough cash to make it home to the “rez” (and all the loose ends he left behind there) for a funeral. The emotional heart of the novel are Jonny’s relationships with his kokum (grandmother) and his best friend / part-time lover Tias.

54.   Yule: Rituals, Recipes and Lore for the Winter Solstice / Susan Pesznecker

Do you folks believe that I’m a witch now? I am, okay? I even spoke an incantation to Old Mother Winter while staring into the flame of a candle after reading this book.

55.   Half Spent Was the Night: A Witches’ Yuletide / Ami McKay

Old-timey witches? At Christmas time? At an elaborate New Year’s Eve masked ball? Be still my heart. This novella was just what I wanted to read in those lost days between Christmas and New Year’s. You’ll appreciate it even more if you’ve already read Ami McKay’s previous novel “The Witches of New York”, as it features the same characters.

#50BookPledge 50BookChallenge

[shipmvns]

Going Down With The New Kid: The Great Yet Lonely Modern Art

kill me just kill me just fucking do it right no

Pairing: Lena/Kara Alex/Maggie Words: 4,159 Summary: Friday is here- the dance, the football game, and a handful of parties. Kara is exhausted, but she can still try. Meanwhile, Alex finds herself becoming a real member of the school, starting with a simple display of petty theft and underaged alcoholism. Spin the bottle is always interesting, or at least Alex thinks so- Kara, however, just thinks dancing is a lot harder than it looks, even with a teacher like Lena. Really, though, what's the difference between feeling big, and feeling small?

ALTERNATIVELY, READ IT ON AO3/LEAVE A COMMENT

It didn't rain on Krypton.

It was sterile and still and unforgiving under a glaring red sun, and it did not rain, not where things were so simple and clear cut and steady. Earth is messy.

And on Earth, it is raining.

Raining hard in the dark of the night, clamoring and loud and empty enough so that the night could just as easily swallow Kara and no one might ever notice. Black holes.

Blurred edges of the great yet lonely everything, cold air and flooding streets, all sliding down around Kara as she sits on the edge of a picnic table in a park she’s never been to before.

Pouring holy floods beat down upon Kara, and if she didn't know better she wouldn't pin such a lifelessness upon them; they feel purposeful, they feel angry and tragically alive. But that's sort of stupid. She knows that.

She just wishes it wasn't so loud- louder and louder, the chaotic noise goes on a rampant incline. It increases, harder and harder, until you'd think it couldn't go much further, think it'd calm back down again, but it doesn't. Golf ball sized chunks of ice join easily and it sounds frightening, almost.

The sky illuminates to purple and Kara flinches as the sky scars in a searing luminescence, then fades back down again. But next is worse.

Next comes thunder, rolling and long winded and ever so close, and it sounds like the world is splitting in two, like the sky is cracking apart in the crease the lightning left, such fire in the sky, and oh, is it ever so apocalyptic, this second world, second everything being destroyed in front of Kara at God knows when in the morning.

The storm feels like pain and repentance, like listlessness and guilt and needing to sleep. Like a shaking in Kara's core, a coldness in her lungs, and her eyelids are heavy and long for sleep that is always fitful and plagued by personal storms that end in a cold sweat and trying to keep quiet for the sake of the people who take her in so selflessly, then slipping out a window and ending up in somewhere so utterly foreign.

And it probably doesn’t mean that much, but even so, Kara feels petrified where she stands.

But, oh, better things must be coming- things that are so much easier said than done, things that sometimes leave a burning in Kara's throat late at night, the light things, the happy things, the 'just being a kid' things when she could be doing more.

She shakes her head and it aches. Better things, better things are coming. Weekends and parties and better things than being alone so early in the morning. But Kara needs some sleep, all she really needs is some sleep. And then it'll be all right.

"I'm not late," Kara waves her arm feebly as she steps into first period on the very last second of 7:59. Her hair is vaguely damp, which will hopefully appear to be from an early morning shower, and not an early morning traipse into the rain. What the hell does the word traipse mean, anyways? Whatever, Kara can save questions like that for English class.

Lena greets Kara with a smirk from her seat as Kara sets her things down, then sits beside her. "Have you considering leaving for school a few minutes earlier?" Lena suggests.

"Oh, hush," Kara laughs slightly as their teacher begins passing out busywork.

"If you're late tonight I'll be utterly offended," Lena teases.

"I won't be, I promise," Kara rests her head on her hands. "Oh, is it, like, formal? Like, is there a dress code? For the dance?" Kara mumbles.

Lena pauses, then smiles deviously. "Yes, there absolutely is." (This is a lie. Lena is a dirty liar. A dirty liar with absolutely no remorse.)

Hey, just because they're friends now doesn't mean Lena can't have any fun.

"Danvers." More of a statement than a greeting, but it comes with warm eyes and a smile, so Alex will absolutely take it.

"Hey."

"Ready for initiation tonight?" Maggie asks with a tilt of her head.

"Initiation?" Alex raises her eyebrows.

"You're not truly part of the school 'till you get trashy drunk at a football game that we're losing," Maggie shrugs. Alex sits down beside her, settling into her desk.

"The trashy drunk part, that I can do, but what if we don't lose?" Alex asks.

"Oh, we always lose," Maggie says firmly.

"Every time," says a boy behind them.

"It's a school tradition. We suck. I mean, we're just awful. It's ridiculous. We always lose. So you take care of the drunk part, and the football players will do the rest for you," Maggie promises.

"So alcoholism is required to be part of this school?" Alex quirks an eyebrow. "What about, like, the Mormons? The Amish?"

"Oh my God, Danvers, are you drunk right now? Oh my God. 'The Amish.' Coming to English class drunk. That won't get you extra credit, Alex," Maggie starts to laugh.

"Knowing our teacher, I feel like it absolutely would," Alex says. "Stop making fun of the Amish, though, that's rude," Alex scolds.

"Dude. First of all, there are definitely no Amish kids who go here. I feel like that just makes you sort of stupid. Second, I'm 82% sure Amish people drink. That's religious, right? Religious people love to get wasted, it's why there's the whole Jesus-wine thing, and, anyways, don't kids our age do to the thing? Like in reality TV? Where they live like 'the English?' So if Amish kids were in our grade, they'd be drunk. Always, probably," Maggie says thoughtfully.

"Drunk always. That should be your school motto," Alex offers.

"Or your English class motto."

"Oh, shut up."

"Hey, you're the new kid!" Maggie announces as if it's some kind of revelation, and Alex laughs lightly.

"Uh, yeah, did you forget? Maybe I'm not the drunk one, after all."

"You're the new kid, and that means you have to come with me for the supply run for Under The Bleachers activities," Maggie explains. "It's your responsibility. Also part of initiation."

"Supply run?"

"Yeah, come with me," Maggie grabs her wrist without further explanation, and then calls out to the English teacher, "we're going to Target!"

"Find your spirit there, my dears," the English teacher croons, flitting around her incense.

"This... this is a weird school," Alex shakes her head.

Maggie's car is very small and looks like it could fall apart at any moment, but it smells like cinnamon and leather, so Alex can't really complain too much. She slips into the passenger seat and Maggie sits next to her, turning on the radio, even though the speakers are staticy and hard to hear.

"So, why are we going to Target during English class?"

"It's my unofficial job to provide the alcohol for football games to everyone who hangs under the bleachers. It's a team job, though, so I always take the new kid," Maggie explains.

"What, do you have a fake ID or something?" Alex asks.

"Nah, mostly it's just petty theft," Maggie shrugs.

"That is... so many kinds of illegal," Alex shakes her head.

"It's okay, I'm planning on being a cop when I'm older to make up for it, so it's pretty much even," Maggie shrugs. "You should consider being a cop, too, now that you're about to become my accomplice. Plus, you have the body for it," She points out.

Alex clears her throat, bites her lip. "Ha. You know, I don't really think that's how the law works." She tries to ignore the blush creeping onto her face as they pull into the parking lot of the Target.

"Hey, Kara," Alex says as her sister meets her outside the side door of the school for the walk home. "Don't steal things from Target when you're a junior, okay?"

"I... what?" Kara blinks at Alex vacantly.

"Long story. Heed my advice. Technically, we didn't get caught, but I wouldn't really advise it," Alex shrugs as the girls begin walking home.

"Uh. Okay. Hey, Alex, can I borrow one of your dresses? I'm going to the dance, and I guess it's supposed to be formal," Kara shoves her glasses up her nose.

"Sure. You're going to the dance?" Alex raises an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. With Lena. She said I shouldn't miss it," Kara explains.

"With Lena, huh? So no shovel talk necessary, then, I guess?" Alex laughs.

"Guess not," Kara mumbles.

"..Hey, Kara, are you okay?" Alex raises an eyebrow, slows her pace a little.

"What? Why?" Kara asks.

"You just seem... I don't know. Weird," Alex shrugs.

"That's mean," Kara says with a half smile.

"Seriously."

"I'll be fine, Alex," Kara shakes her head. "I've just got a lot on my mind." At least that's truthful.

Under a twilight sky, Maggie gives three sharp knocks to door of Alex's house.

Without more than a few seconds, the door is opened by a blonde woman. "Hi, sweetie. Which one are you here for?"

"Uh, Alex Danvers?" Maggie says.

"Come on in, she'll be down with her sister in just a minute. You're just in time for dinner."

"Great," Maggie says with an easy smile, despite the fact that she really wasn't expecting to be part of a family dinner- she was really just here to pick up Alex.

Alex's house is warm and homey, full of a soft orange glow. Alex comes down the steps as Maggie is being shown to the dining table. "Hey, mom, I- Maggie. Hi," Alex is slightly taken aback.

"Hey, Danvers, your mom invited me to stay for dinner," Maggie gives her a smirk as Eliza goes into the kitchen to finish up.

"Oh, really, she did?" Alex laughs, taking a seat next to Maggie.

"Of course I did, she's your friend," Eliza says very matter-of-factly. "Where's your sister, Alex?"

"She said she'll be down in a few minutes," Alex shrugs.

Eliza puts the food out and then sits down at the other end of the table.

It's nice, dinner with Alex's mom. Their house is homey and the food is amazing. Her mom is nice and talkative.

"So, are you girls going to the football game?" Eliza asks.

"Yeah, they're always great, so I insisted that Alex here come with me," Maggie says.

"Oh, well that was nice of you, dear," Eliza smiles. "It's so nice to see Alex make some friends, when she was a little girl, she didn't have many friends, s-"

"Thanksfordinnermomwereallyneedtogobye," by the time Alex has finished her sentence, she's already dragged Maggie out of the house to the car by the sleeve of her shirt.

"Aw, but I just started eating," Maggie pouts, sliding into the driver's seat.

"You can eat when we get there," Alex says gruffly.

"Poor, young, friendless Alex," Maggie sighs mockingly.

Alex throws a quarter at her.

"Okay, okay, I'm done!" Maggie laughs. "I'm finished."

"Just drive, Sawyer."

Taking the day of the week into consideration, the weight on Kara's chest should be significantly lighter. Whatever; she figures things will be pretty good when Lena comes to get her. She knows that Alex has already left with her friend, she heard the car, but that's sort of weird, since the game isn't until after the dance, and even the dance isn't starting until fifteen minutes from now.

Kara looks at herself in her mirror, and she feels small, standing there in her sister's dress in her room, which growing a pale blue.

A knock at the door tells Kara her ride is waiting, so she makes her way down the stairs to see Eliza greeting Lena. "Hey! You're here," Kara says, approaching Lena.

"Yeah," Lena smiles.

"You girls have fun, now," Eliza says as Kara and Lena exit the house and wave.

"You look," Lena looks Kara up and down, "Uh. Wow."

"Thanks. I think," Kara clears her throat as the girls start walking towards the school. Not the most glamorous way to show up to a dance, but it works.

"I didn't even know this place existed," Alex shrugs, leaning back in her booth and looking out to the sky. The sun hasn't totally fallen yet, but in the east, beginnings of shining stars are visible.

"Best food in our town. Which, you know, is saying very little. Still, though. A good place to kill time for an hour before the game," Maggie points out.

Alex almost asks Maggie why she's hanging out with her, when Maggie has a whole group of very loud friends probably readily available somewhere else. Instead, she just takes a sip of her shake, letting fluorescent light wash over her.

"Your mom seems nice," Maggie says, and it's not without a slight smirk, but it's still fairly sincere.

"Yeah, she's pretty nice," Alex shrugs.

"Wait until she finds out her kid stole from a Target," Maggie laughs, and her dimples show brilliantly.

"You're pretty when you smile," Alex mumbles. Immediately after, she looks away. But still, she can see, Maggie smiles.

Lena is not a bad person, and she thinks this is quite proven by the fact that, despite having messed with Kara about the less-than-classy school event being formal, she did not make Kara brave the otherness of being out of place entirely alone. Both girls are entering the gym wearing dresses that are far too fancy for the occasion.

"You said it was formal!" Kara swats at Lena.

"Ah, well," Lena laughs easily in the humid gym air. Some kind of soft song is playing at a low quality in the background, and the lights are low and reddish, casting shadows across the room. Lena takes Kara's hand and twirls her easily. "Welcome to a high school dance. It's terrible, and we should definitely leave within twenty minutes or less."

"Awh, but I wanna dance," Kara gives Lena her widest, most pleading eyes and an innocent smile.

"I don't really know how to dance," Lena says. (This is a lie; what rich girl doesn't know how to ballroom dance?)

"Aww," Kara moans with a frown that is nearly unbearable. It takes literally three seconds of this for Lena to break completely.

"God, fine," Lena sighs. Kara claps.

"Show me how?"

"Okay," Lena says. "Put your hands like this- yeah, right there. Keep them there, unless I go to spin you or something like that. And I'll put my hands here. Okay? And now we kind of- we kind of go like this, like, we go in this shape, okay? Like sort of a square. Sort of go to the music, like, sway. Keep the beat, right. Good. And now- now I'll spin you, okay?"

Lena twirls Kara, and her dress twirls with her, leaving her giggling when she steadies.

"Okay. Good. Fall back in with the beat, now, right- okay. Good. You're doing really good, Kara," Lena laughs brightly. For a few moments, it is easy, and it is only them.

The football game is loud and full of bright, artificial light that hurts Alex's eyes. Maggie leads her under the bleachers, where there's a group of stoner-type looking teenagers hanging out and laughing and yelling like it's some kind of exclusive party. "Everybody, me and Danvers are here with the beer," Maggie waves an arm in the air.

Kids cheer all around as they drag the cooler of alcohol over. It takes less than 37 seconds for someone to yell 'chug' to no one in particular.

"Interesting enough, huh?" Maggie smiles.

"Guess so," Alex says with a laugh.

Someone's set up a radio, and dizzy summer music is humming around them. Alex takes a seat, and Maggie follows suit, sipping on a beer. They sit quietly, cheers overhead and fuzzy music filling up all the blank spaces, but both girls hands are supporting them, and just slightly, they're touching. Alex tries not to wonder if this is on purpose.

It takes maybe another thirty minutes for someone to yell, "spin the bottle!" Everybody, by now, is slightly lost to the world, though no one's quite wasted yet, either. Without a second thought, Maggie is entering into the circle of kids, tight grip on Alex's wrist, and the game commences. A boy next to Maggie spins first, and Alex pays very little attention.

Next, though, it's Maggie's turn. She spins. It lands on a boy in a black hoodie. Alex takes a sip of beer. Maggie makes a face. "I really need more friends who are chicks," she shakes her head, steps forward, and lets the boy kiss her. He grins. She doesn't. (Neither does Alex. She just feels a vague twist in her stomach.)

Under the light of the moon, feeling in somewhat high spirits, if a little hollow inside, Kara walks side by side with Lena, on their way to whichever party Lena deems best.

"You dance really well," Kara says quietly.

"Got lessons when I was little," Lena shrugs. Kara nods. "Hey, we're here," Lena points to a house down the block with lights and loud music all spilling out the windows.

"I can smell the alcohol from here," Kara mutters.

"No kidding," Lena says as they make their way to the house. It's all open doors, so the two walk in easily. "Do you want a drink, though?" She casts her eye over at the younger girl. Kara shakes her head politely. "Okay, I'll be right back, then," Lena tells her. Kara puts her back against the wall as she is left alone within the loud noise. She plants her feet firmly in the carpeting, as if not to be swallowed whole. Things like this, they always feel very isolating, at least if you're by yourself.

Luckily, though, Lena returns quickly, red cup in hand. "This... this is a party?" Kara asks.

"Pretty much. It's more fun if you're drunk," Lena shrugs. "Or into this sort of thing."

"It's interesting," Kara says, sitting down on a wide leather couch. She thinks she sinks down about a foot when she sits down. Lena sits down beside her, taking a sip from her cup.

"What's in there?" Kara quirks an eyebrow.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it's strong, and sort of gross," Lena squints down at the contents of the cup, then shrugs and takes another long sip.

"It's like... being inside a piece of modern art, or something," Kara mumbles, looking around at all of the sharp edges and faded colors that go fuzzy if she doesn't focus hard enough. It's smokey and pale, the whole room, and messy music is clashing with the quiet sound of the night and the fireflies hovering near the grass despite it being the wrong season entirely for that.

"Modern art kind of sucks," Lena mumbles, finishing off her cup of Something Awful.

"Not always," Kara shrugs, and wonders if she's telling the truth.

"I'm getting another drink, want one?" Lena offers. Kara politely declines once more and watches Lena retreat into the next room, letting everything go fuzzy and red and faraway for a moment.

Thirty spins. It takes thirty spins of the beer bottle in the middle of the circle to place Maggie and Alex together. When it does, Maggie rubs her hands together. "Alright, finally something I can get behind," she laughs, standing up. Alex follows suit with heat flooding her body. Her limbs betray her slightly, she feels wavering, she feels unsteady.

Maggie smiles and tugs at Alex's jacket, compromising for the awfully noticeable height difference.

When the two girls kiss, a lot of things happen for Alex- a lot of things that Alex will not disclose, under any circumstances, in fact, because she's always hated young adult books and their depictions of kissing, so she's definitely not going to say that, when they kiss, it's sparkly and warm and bright, and she especially won't think about how fucking soft Maggie's lips are, because that's just fucking ridiculous, and she's not even going to acknowledge Maggie's hands on her hips in the first place, to be quite frank.

When Maggie pulls away, Alex's body screams in petulant reluctance, but her face stays stone. Boys are wolf whistling- Alex hardly notices. Maggie's wearing a smile on her lips. "Well, guys, this was fun," She says once someone else grabs the bottle, "but I think me and my ride along over here are gonna jet before the guards come and kick us all out. Seeya."

Alex follows out into the open night air wordlessly. The make it to Maggie's car, but Maggie doesn't even pull her keys out of her pocket. Instead, she says, "that was fun. Up for a round two, Danvers?"

And how can a drunk teenager decline an offer like that, in a great and wide world lacking consequence?

Within two hours, Lena is kind of entirely wasted, and it's pretty funny, besides the fact that it kind of makes Kara feel like she's on a different level of mind, which is an awfully lonely place to be. And, don't get her wrong, this is all perfectly entertaining- it's just... weird.

"Kara," Lena slurs, "you're pretty." She runs a clumsy hand through Kara's blond curls.

Kara laughs. "Thanks, Lena."

"You look like... a Disney princess," Lena mumbles, shaking her head. "I mean, everyone thought you were gonna be scary.... but you're just a ninth grade princess! Ha."

"I can be scary," Kara mumbles as Lena rests her head in Kara's lap. Kara threads her fingers through Lena's hair.

"I don't believe you," Lena giggles.

"Yeah, well, you're drunk," Kara says, a quick half-smile passing her lips.

"Why aren't you drunk?" Lena challenges. "Y'look like you could use it."

Kara laughs huskily. "Hey, did your hand ever get better? The burnt one?" Kara looks down at the older girl, who's occupied gazing at the ceiling fan currently.

"Lil' bit," Lena sighs. "Hey, it's, like, one in the morning," Lena laughs as if this is particularly funny- it's not.

"I should be home now," Kara sinks down further into the couch.

"Me. Too." Lena laughs. "But! I think I'm gonna crash here instead."

"Maybe I will, too," Kara considers.

"Don't. Your mom- she's sooo nice, Kara. Go and be home. Don't worry her," Lena orders with intimidating emerald eyes and a soft giggle.

"You could come with me, you know," Kara offers.

"Nah. Who knows what'd we'd do, drunk and alone together?" Lena winks seductively.

"Um." Kara blinks.

"Go home, Kara," Lena orders sternly. "Now! Run. Unless you're going to trip."

"Uh. Okay," Kara mutters tiredly, shaking her head. Lena gets off of her, and Kara leaves, hearing the pounding music fade into dull thumping as she heads towards home.

When Alex makes it home, it's two in the morning. Her head is thick and dizzy but her face is flushed. Maggie waves as she turns the corner (on foot- she may be a thief, but she's no drunk driver) of Alex's block, heading for home.

The sky feels wonderfully high above her, and the world feels light and welcoming. It is the most ideal version of reality, this moment right now, and so despite the cold air, Alex takes a moment to crane her head back and look at the sky, let it wash over her.

Most miraculous of all, tonight, though? Her school’s team won. Maggie was thrilled. (“We won! We never win! It’s a fucking miracle, Danvers! You know what? I think you might just be good luck, Alex.”)

Alex giggles, leaning against the back of her door for a second.

Then, she lets herself in, thanking God himself that Eliza is the worlds most heavy sleeper.

Alex stumbles up the stairs in a drunken stupor, lazy smiles on her face. She takes a left and makes her way into the room, falling onto her bed, clothes on and all. Except there's a body next to her, one that's very much alive. Thankfully. Probably for the best.

"Kara?" Alex whispers.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Is this, uh.. is this my room, or yours?" Alex asks.

"I'm pretty sure it's mine, Alex," Kara mumbles.

"Oh. Sorry. Could I stay, tonight, though?" She asks. Or maybe it's more like an offer.

"..Yeah, please stay," Kara says, and Alex can feel her nod.

"When did you get home?"

"Like an hour ago?" Kara says.

"And you're still awake?"

"Yeah."

"Well, did you have a good time?" Alex mumbles tiredly.

"I think. Kinda. You?"

"The best," Alex laughs.

"I'm glad," Kara says lightly.

"Yeah. Go to sleep now, little sister," Alex slurs, wrapping a protective arm around Kara.

Kara wholeheartedly appreciates this. At least she’s not alone so early in the morning.

#supergirl #supercorp #sanvers #kara danvers #lena luthor #maggie sawyer #alex danvers #supercorp fanfiction #sanvers fanfiction #gray writes

[emlydunstan]

"Little Woods" Explores Family Bonds, Poverty, and Opioids in Small-Town America

Writer-director Nia DaCosta’s first feature Little Woods is fresh off the film festival circuit and now playing in theaters nationwide. The movie earned multiple awards including Tribeca’s prestigious 2018 Nora Ephron Prize. It’s the kind of thriller that makes you lean forward—a nail-biter. Tessa Thompson and Lily James keep the audience transfixed.This is a tale of two sisters living in Little Woods, North Dakota, a fracking town in rapid decline. Ollie (Thompson) is the stronger, tougher sib. She’s the one who gets things done. Unfortunately she got too careless as a drug runner and was caught transporting opioids across the border from Canada. When Parole Officer Carter (Lance Reddick) reminds Ollie that they have only one more meeting before she’s free to start a legit job in Spokane, his concerned look foreshadows looming problems. He says, “Please stay out of trouble,” but the audience understands: Uh oh. Something bad is gonna happen.Deb (James) had been the most popular girl in high school so it’s not a surprise that she paired up with the most popular guy, Ian (James Badge Dale). But now Ian is an alcoholic and deadbeat dad to their son Johnny (Charlie Ray Reid). Frail Deb is a broken and broke substance abuser with a knack for screwing up her life.The estranged sisters are together again in the house they grew up in, each feeling exhausted and alone despite their close physical proximity. They are separately grieving the recent loss of their mother after a prolonged illness, in which Ollie stayed to provide care while Deb did her own thing. Their family history is fraught with resentments.Easing their mother’s pain was the impetus for Ollie’s initial border-crossing opioid-gathering mission. Canadian prescription painkillers were cheaper. That was how the trafficking started; we get the bigger picture when Deb asks Ollie why she got caught.“I forgot to be scared,” Ollie said. “I liked it too much.”There is no money left after their mom’s death. Mortgage payments are overdue and Ollie finds a foreclosure notice on the front door. She is ready to just walk away, to blow this depressing town and let the bank take the house. With a new job to look forward to, she feels hopeful for the first time in longer than she can remember.Then everything comes to a screeching halt.Deb reveals that she is accidentally pregnant by Johnny’s no-good father.Deb tried to handle things herself: She went to see a doctor but was told that without insurance, the cost of prenatal care combined with the fees for the birth would run between $8,000 and $9,000. Disillusioned, she opts for an abortion only to discover that North Dakota abortion centers were shuttered. Finally, desperate, Deb researches where she can get a legal abortion in Canada.When Deb breaks down and tells Ollie the news, including that she’ll have to travel hundreds of miles in order to get an affordable abortion, the stronger sister kicks into high gear like the super-duper codependent she is. With only one week to pay the bank at least half of the $6,000 they owe on the mortgage, Ollie decides she can’t leave destitute Deb and Johnny homeless.That’s when I wanted to scream, “No! Go to Al-Anon!”But Ollie risks her freedom, her new job, and her safety to make one last drug run. The heart-pumping action begins. Luke Kirby plays the frightening drug dealer.Nia DaCosta talked to journalist Dorri Olds for The Fix.“They told me in film school, ‘Write what you know,’” said DaCosta. “At first, I took that literally. But I didn’t want to write about my life, I wanted to explore other worlds.”DaCosta figured out that she could use the same principle to write about topics she didn’t know but could learn if she was able to relate emotionally.“We look at poverty and addiction as personal failures, moral failures,” said the Brooklyn-born, Harlem-raised 29-year-old. “I had a great family. I mean we weren’t well off but growing up in New York City, I could walk to a hospital. I can get to a Planned Parenthood. Lives of deprivation, like Deb and Ollie’s, [were] completely unfamiliar to me.”Determined and hardworking, DaCosta spent time in Williston, North Dakota to write the fictional town of Little Woods. She was stunned by how little she knew about how dark life is for so many people in America, especially women.“I wanted to present what was happening. This is reality. This is where we are. Medications are overprescribed to a startling degree. I remember getting 20 Vicodin pills when I got my wisdom teeth taken out. I didn’t need any of the pills.”Alarmed, she threw them out.“I hadn’t set out to make a political film but my personal point of view about what’s happening right now is horrifying. I mean whatever way we’re dealing with the opiate crisis, it isn’t working. That is heartbreaking.”DaCosta confirmed that trafficking opioids was never about getting high for Ollie. But after smuggling affordable painkillers to help her mom, Ollie found out how much locals would pay for the ill-gotten opioids. The town of Little Woods attracted men who came for the oil drilling jobs, hard manual labor that resulted in body aches and chronic pain. The more Ollie became known as the go-to for “meds,” the more it went to her head. She liked being a badass drug dealer. In a town where there were few options, especially for women, she liked her tough persona and getting to hang with the boys.“It gave her a purpose,” said DaCosta. “It gave her a place where she mattered; a way to stand out.”The filmmaker decided to add substance misuse to Deb’s problems after she spent time in North Dakota researching for the movie.“I remember talking to people, and it was just a part of the ecosystem. Everyone I spoke to either knew someone, or they themselves had substance abuse issues and had been involved with it in some way.”Even though she didn’t set out to make a political film, DaCosta’s movie explores interrelated social, economic, and health problems that the U.S. is grappling with. In the red states, clinics that perform abortions and other health services for women are being shut down. Many fear that Roe vs. Wade may be overturned. The opioid epidemic has reached astonishing numbers. Click here for more information.Nia DaCosta and Tessa Thompson discuss Planned Parenthood:

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241841 https://www.thefix.com/little-woods-explores-family-bonds-poverty-and-opioids-small-town-america

[alexdmorgan30]

"Little Woods" Explores Family Bonds, Poverty, and Opioids in Small-Town America

Writer-director Nia DaCosta’s first feature Little Woods is fresh off the film festival circuit and now playing in theaters nationwide. The movie earned multiple awards including Tribeca’s prestigious 2018 Nora Ephron Prize. It’s the kind of thriller that makes you lean forward—a nail-biter. Tessa Thompson and Lily James keep the audience transfixed.This is a tale of two sisters living in Little Woods, North Dakota, a fracking town in rapid decline. Ollie (Thompson) is the stronger, tougher sib. She’s the one who gets things done. Unfortunately she got too careless as a drug runner and was caught transporting opioids across the border from Canada. When Parole Officer Carter (Lance Reddick) reminds Ollie that they have only one more meeting before she’s free to start a legit job in Spokane, his concerned look foreshadows looming problems. He says, “Please stay out of trouble,” but the audience understands: Uh oh. Something bad is gonna happen.Deb (James) had been the most popular girl in high school so it’s not a surprise that she paired up with the most popular guy, Ian (James Badge Dale). But now Ian is an alcoholic and deadbeat dad to their son Johnny (Charlie Ray Reid). Frail Deb is a broken and broke substance abuser with a knack for screwing up her life.The estranged sisters are together again in the house they grew up in, each feeling exhausted and alone despite their close physical proximity. They are separately grieving the recent loss of their mother after a prolonged illness, in which Ollie stayed to provide care while Deb did her own thing. Their family history is fraught with resentments.Easing their mother’s pain was the impetus for Ollie’s initial border-crossing opioid-gathering mission. Canadian prescription painkillers were cheaper. That was how the trafficking started; we get the bigger picture when Deb asks Ollie why she got caught.“I forgot to be scared,” Ollie said. “I liked it too much.”There is no money left after their mom’s death. Mortgage payments are overdue and Ollie finds a foreclosure notice on the front door. She is ready to just walk away, to blow this depressing town and let the bank take the house. With a new job to look forward to, she feels hopeful for the first time in longer than she can remember.Then everything comes to a screeching halt.Deb reveals that she is accidentally pregnant by Johnny’s no-good father.Deb tried to handle things herself: She went to see a doctor but was told that without insurance, the cost of prenatal care combined with the fees for the birth would run between $8,000 and $9,000. Disillusioned, she opts for an abortion only to discover that North Dakota abortion centers were shuttered. Finally, desperate, Deb researches where she can get a legal abortion in Canada.When Deb breaks down and tells Ollie the news, including that she’ll have to travel hundreds of miles in order to get an affordable abortion, the stronger sister kicks into high gear like the super-duper codependent she is. With only one week to pay the bank at least half of the $6,000 they owe on the mortgage, Ollie decides she can’t leave destitute Deb and Johnny homeless.That’s when I wanted to scream, “No! Go to Al-Anon!”But Ollie risks her freedom, her new job, and her safety to make one last drug run. The heart-pumping action begins. Luke Kirby plays the frightening drug dealer.Nia DaCosta talked to journalist Dorri Olds for The Fix.“They told me in film school, ‘Write what you know,’” said DaCosta. “At first, I took that literally. But I didn’t want to write about my life, I wanted to explore other worlds.”DaCosta figured out that she could use the same principle to write about topics she didn’t know but could learn if she was able to relate emotionally.“We look at poverty and addiction as personal failures, moral failures,” said the Brooklyn-born, Harlem-raised 29-year-old. “I had a great family. I mean we weren’t well off but growing up in New York City, I could walk to a hospital. I can get to a Planned Parenthood. Lives of deprivation, like Deb and Ollie’s, [were] completely unfamiliar to me.”Determined and hardworking, DaCosta spent time in Williston, North Dakota to write the fictional town of Little Woods. She was stunned by how little she knew about how dark life is for so many people in America, especially women.“I wanted to present what was happening. This is reality. This is where we are. Medications are overprescribed to a startling degree. I remember getting 20 Vicodin pills when I got my wisdom teeth taken out. I didn’t need any of the pills.”Alarmed, she threw them out.“I hadn’t set out to make a political film but my personal point of view about what’s happening right now is horrifying. I mean whatever way we’re dealing with the opiate crisis, it isn’t working. That is heartbreaking.”DaCosta confirmed that trafficking opioids was never about getting high for Ollie. But after smuggling affordable painkillers to help her mom, Ollie found out how much locals would pay for the ill-gotten opioids. The town of Little Woods attracted men who came for the oil drilling jobs, hard manual labor that resulted in body aches and chronic pain. The more Ollie became known as the go-to for “meds,” the more it went to her head. She liked being a badass drug dealer. In a town where there were few options, especially for women, she liked her tough persona and getting to hang with the boys.“It gave her a purpose,” said DaCosta. “It gave her a place where she mattered; a way to stand out.”The filmmaker decided to add substance misuse to Deb’s problems after she spent time in North Dakota researching for the movie.“I remember talking to people, and it was just a part of the ecosystem. Everyone I spoke to either knew someone, or they themselves had substance abuse issues and had been involved with it in some way.”Even though she didn’t set out to make a political film, DaCosta’s movie explores interrelated social, economic, and health problems that the U.S. is grappling with. In the red states, clinics that perform abortions and other health services for women are being shut down. Many fear that Roe vs. Wade may be overturned. The opioid epidemic has reached astonishing numbers. Click here for more information.Nia DaCosta and Tessa Thompson discuss Planned Parenthood:

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241841 http://bit.ly/2viCqVl