#the comment section is popping off we are all so glad she didn’t forgive his ass

[deityofhearts]

LETS FUCKING GO KEIRA NOT FORGIVING HER DAD FOR YEARS IF NEGLECT THAT LED TO HER DEATH

#deity dialogue #she’s accepting his promise to live for her because she needs his help and power but she refuses to let him into her heart I love her for #this so many fucking times the leads forgive their shitty abusive and neglectful family or significant others whatever else #it’s so heartbreaking that she’s so tired and empty but god I’m so happy she didn’t just forgive him like that #the comment section is popping off we are all so glad she didn’t forgive his ass #glad you feel remorse after living through a literal hell world without your daughter who you let fucking die #you may be sorry now and it may be eating you alive and you wanna genuinely do better but fuck you

[random-mha-thoughts]

Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie!  I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it.  Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits.  It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains.  I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting.  Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts.  Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack.  Unsurprisingly, none of it works.  The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now.  I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already.  Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter.  "You're up too, hmm~?  Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store.  "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice.  "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night.  Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go.  It's super creepy!"  She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them.  I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand.  Not like I had anything better to do.  What was I gonna do, sleep?  Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself.  "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes.  "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with.  "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work.  I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands.  "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her.  "I want your heart, Toga.  Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off.  "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks.  My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head.  Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off.  It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off.  "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago.  Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway.  He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child."  He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM.  "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness.  "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips.  "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far."  I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you.  Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around."  His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head.  "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed.  Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave.  I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual.  I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up.  But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference.  I started thinking there was something in the tea.

.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said.  He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen.  "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up.  "Am I bothering you?  I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?"  It was an unexpected question.  He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us.  He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack.  He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling.  The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities.  They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches.  "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy.  "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen.  Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated.  I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines.  I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface.  If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment.  The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy.  I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want.  Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way.  I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep.  In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body.  It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable.  It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite.  He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother.  I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest.  If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth.  "I was lonely before I found these guys.  I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk.  "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup."  He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly.  "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all!  Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile.  "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time.  The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay.  You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way.  And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me.  You can't see it now, but it's there.  Keep fighting through it."  He touched my hand over the glass.  "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents.  "You'd be a great Dad, Twice."  I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response.  "I've always wanted a kid.  Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine.  "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with.  "Let it out, kid.  Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me.  Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed.  "Hey.  If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes.  Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store.  The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes.  I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing."  I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most.  Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura.  "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up.  "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we?  Us damn human can't help but think.  It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up.  "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone?  We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long.  It never ends well."  He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck.  "We all got demons, kid.  It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first.  And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point.  I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for.  I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villians x reader #dabi #toga himiko #mha twice #kurogiri #shigaraki #request #platonic #gender neutral reader #comfort #league of villains imagine #league of villains scenario #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

[cantteachanoldguardnewquotes]

Together

Please enjoy some fluff I wrote while stressing about stuff.

Comments always appreciated

Summery: It has been a hundred years and it's the first night Booker is back with his family.

Warnings: nightmares, mention of death, mention of torture, both brief, some violence but it gets better.

A/N: Andy is immortal again in this.

Features: So much fluff, cuddle piles, flirting, acceptance, comfort, forgiveness, family love, happy ending.

Word count: 2555

It was the first night of having Booker back from exile. He was trying to figure out where he stood after so long and the rest of them were doing there best to make him feel welcome. After all, he had served his sentence without complaint even after Quynh had left him to stay with Andy. He had really cleaned up his act and was still working on being better.

Nicky and Nile were making hachis parmentier, french onion soup, and cherry clafoutis for dessert all on honor of Booker's return home.

"Nicky, if you were a fruit you'd be a fineapple." Joe teased popping another cherry in his mouth.

Nicky grinned, narrowing his eyes thinking of the perfect response. "And if you, Joe, were a vegetable you'd be a cutecumber."

Joe barked out a laugh, closing the distance between the two of them and wrapped his arm around Nicky's waist. "Is that right?" He cocked an eyebrow. "You think I'm..." He paused biting his lip seductively. "Cute?"

Nicky's eyes sparkled with delight at his husband's reaction. "It's crossed my mind on occasion." Nicky wiped a smear of floor on Joe's nose.

"Ok, that's enough flirting. Save it for after the meals done please." Nile interjected when she realized they would do this all night if she didn't put her foot down. "Nicky has work to do and you aren't helping one bit." She pulled Joe's arm off Nicky and started pushing him toward the dining room.

Joe gapsed in mock surprise and let her push him out of the room, out of the corner of his eye he saw her trying not to laugh she was in just as high of spirits as the rest of them.

Booker, Andy and Quynh sat around the table playing some blackjack before dinner.

The kitchen and dining room were connected so they all could see and hear everything that was going on.

"I see nothing's changed?" Booker smirked keeping his eyes on his cards. He was trying not to show it too much, but oh he'd missed his family. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

Andy chuckled. "Never."

"Joe, you can join us." Quynh patted the seat next to her.

He accepted and sat down finding himself kitty corner with Booker.

Booker in the short time he'd been back was still walking on eggshells around Joe and Nicky. He knew they had forgiven him but he was being cautious all the same. He wouldn't blame them if they had any hard feelings.

Joe had mixed emotions about Booker being back. His betrayal still stung but he was happy with how far Booker had come. The truth was he had missed him, sometimes more than he cared to admit, so he was doing his best to let bygones be bygones, it would just take a little getting used to having him back.

They played a few more rounds before Nile came out of the kitchen carrying food. "Dinner is served!"

Quynh jumped up and ran to the kitchen to help carry everything over.

Joe went and got drinks and cups, while Andy cleaned up the game.

It took no time and they were all sitting around the table with the food steaming in front of them.

Nicky smiled at everyone's anticipation, taking in his family's warm energy. "Dig in."

"Oh babe, you've outdone yourself." Joe said closing his eyes and savoring the hachis parmentier.

"Hey now, Nile helped too." Nicky said.

"Nile, this is outstanding." Joe grinned ear to ear at her.

"Thanks, it was fun. This was my first time making it and Nicky helped a lot."

"Well I would have never guessed you hadn't made it a hundred times before." Quynh chimed in.

"How does our French guest of honor feel they did?" Andy asked Booker.

Booker had been touched, even moved, when Nile told him they had picked out some of his favorite dishes for dinner tonight. He had offered to help but Nile and Nicky would hear none of it. 'Perhaps tomorrow' Nicky had teased.

"It is..." He shook his head a little, almost as if he was in disbelief. "The best I've ever had."

Nile beamed, and Nicky happily took another bite. They were both glad their efforts had turned out so well.

They talked and they laughed, told stories about their time spent apart, teased and joked. It was wonderful getting back to a new normal.

"Here I'll get the dishes." Booker volunteered after dessert.

"Someone's on their best behavior." Andy teased.

Booker wasn't sure how to respond, he really was still trying his best to make amends.

"Hey." Andy saw his hesitation and grabbed his arm so he would look at her. "I'm glad your back Book."

Almost as a reflex his eyes darted to Joe and Nicky, but there wasn't anything unpleasant in their expressions. "I'm glad to be back." He said refocusing on Andy.

"I'll put the food away if you've got dishes." She patted his arm before getting to work.

Quynh helped as well with cleanup while the other three went into the living room to pick out a movie.

"No horror, not tonight." Joe said.

Nile grabbed the remote before they could. "But I love horror movies." Nile grinned an evil grin. She knew Joe could only take so much before he was out, even with Nicky holding him. "What are you feeling Nicky?"

Nicky shrugged. "Maybe something funny?"

Nile nodded her head. "Hmm, a comedy does sound pleasent." She agreed.

Joe squeezed Nicky's hand so Nile wouldn't see, grateful for the light-hearted suggestion.

Quynh came into the room and saw Nile scrolling through the comedy section. "Nice." She liked watching almost anything so long as there weren't people drowning. Nile could always talk her into watching horror movies unlike the rest of them who were more hit or miss.

Quynh looked at the seating arrangements, and thought for a moment. "This won't do, Nicky will you be a dear and come help me?"

Nicky didn't even ask, just followed her out of the room.

They came back a few minutes later with an armful of comforters and pillows. She began making a pile on the floor against the couch so they could lean on something and Nicky dropped his armful of blankets and pillows where she directed.

"There are too many of us to sit comfortabley on the couch, we'll have to improvise." She stood back to admire her handiwork.

Joe chose a spot and pulled Nicky down beside him so he could lay his head on Nicky's shoulder.

Nile curled herself almost into a ball and rested her head on a pillow on Nicky's lap. "What about one of these three?" She asked.

The rest of them read the descriptions.

"The one with the cruise ship." Nicky suggested.

"I second that." Joe said.

"Sounds good to me." Quynh added. "We're gonna start the movie!" She yelled to the slowpokes in the kitchen.

Andy came around the corner followed closely by Booker.

He paused, trying to decide where to sit among all the blankets.

"Don't be shy." Andy said guiding him over to where Quynh was sitting pressed up against Nile.

Quynh pulled him down so he was sitting right next to her and Andy sat down on her lap and rested against Booker's shoulder.

"Ready?" Nile asked before pushing play.

She got a chorus of confirmations from everyone and started the movie.

Nicky had been right a comedy was just what everyone needed on a happy day like today. They all enjoyed it and relaxed.

Quynh joked she was going to buy Andy some of the ugly outfits the characters were wearing.

At one point Nile had to sit up because she and Nicky were laughing so hard at one of the jokes.

Booker and Joe had a debate on how long someone could live on a cruise ship without getting caught by staff.

Andy fell asleep with a fourth of the movie to go.

When it was over they laughed and carried on about some of the jokes and how unrealistic the ending had been.

When the concern died down they all bid each other goodnight going to their rooms.

Nile, relaxed as she was and as tried as she was, still couldn't fall asleep. She finally gave up after two hours and went to the kitchen to get some water.

Andy was already in the kitchen which at this point never surprised Nile.

"Can't sleep?" Andy asked.

Nile shook her head.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Why is it even, on happy days, does it feel like nothing can chase away the dark?" Nile asked taking a drink of her water.

Andy studied her for a moment. "The last job still bothering you?"

Nile swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. "I know it probably shouldn't, but yeah."

Andy gently lifted Nile's chin. "I wasn't asking you to justify anything Nile. I'm asking if you're ok." She said kindly.

Nile sighed. "I guess the answer is no."

Andy pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry."

The last job had gone all wrong. The person they were trying to rescue was killed before they had made it in, they had to fight there way out through tear gas and ak-47s, Joe had died horribly, Nicky had his face bashed in guarding Joe while he was out, Quynh lost an arm, and that didn't even cover how many bullets they'd all eaten.

No one who had attacked them survived.

It was a terrible job and the noise and confusion still troubled Nile.

It might still haunt some of the others as well but if it did she felt they were better at hiding it.

"Will I ever be able to see that stuff and sleep after?" It has been a hundred years already, her hopes weren't high.

"With a heart as big as yours I doubt it. Believe me, we all struggle with nightmares, your not alone in this. Will it lessen as time goes on? Maybe, probably, but it will never truly go away. That's just the curse we are forced to live with." She kissed the top of Nile's head. "That's probably not the answer you were hoping for."

"You never give me the answers I want to hear." Nile said teasing her.

"But like I said you don't have to face this by yourself. Come sleep with Quynh and I. It helps when you're not alone." Andy took her hand and led her to the room they were sharing.

Quynh was asleep and didn't wake up when Andy laid down next to her. Nile laid down next to Andy and they were both out in no time.

Around three in the morning Nicky woke up to the sound of a shout. His hand flew to his gun and he pressed into Joe feeling him at his back to make sure he was safe.

He'd recognize that cry anywhere and jumped up running straight to Booker's room.

He kept a sharp lookout for any intruders in the house and swung Booker's door open while keeping as much of his body hidden behind the door frame as he could.

The lights were still off and he didn't see any signs of something being wrong. With great care he peered around the door and stepped further into the room.

A lamp snapped on and he pointed his gun at an apologetic Booker, who had his hands in the air.

"Ah, Nicky, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you let alone wake you up, sorry about that, you can go back to bed, I'm alright." Booker was talking fast, trying to get all his words out at once.

Nicky did one more sweep with his eyes around the room before putting his gun down.

By now Joe had made his way down the hall and peered into the room. "All clear?" He asked gun in his hand.

"We're fine." Nicky assured him. "What happened?" Nicky asked turning his attention back to Booker.

"Nothing but a nightmare." He said waving them off, he attempted a small smile but it looked more like a grimace.

Nicky wouldn't budge, there was still the faintest hint of terror in Booker's eyes. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Tell me, if you can." He laid his hand on Booker's arm.

Booker squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. He couldn't tell them how he'd tried to do a job and got kidnapped then tortured for nearly two year. How every night for two years he had wished for death more so than usual and knew that neither death nor help was coming. But it still haunted him, tormented his dreams, sometimes he could even feel imaginary pain from the things they did to him. He couldn't tell them, he wouldn't, that was the same fate he had signed them up for and he couldn't bare to live with it if they told him it was karma. He knew it was.

"It's nothing." He whispered, not looking at either of them.

"You don't have to face it alone anymore." Andy said, she had joined Joe by the door and had watched most of the interaction. "You're home Book." She walked over to him and took his hand. "Do these dreams happen often now?"

Booker hesitated he still didn't feel like this should be any of their problem. He wanted to be able to carry this on his own, no matter how heavy the load.

Joe narrowed his eyes, not without kindness, studying Booker. "Be honest."

Booker looked at him, and saw all the concern and sincerity he thought he might never see again. "Nearly every night." He admitted.

None of them were a stranger to night terrors it came with the job, but dealing with them on your own, they haven't had to do that in a long time, they knew how difficult it was.

"Come, join us." Andy gently tugged on his hand. "Nile is already sleeping with us it won't make any difference to add more."

"I-" He started to protest, he couldn't put them out on his first night back, they'd already gone above and beyond for him.

"She's the boss." Joe grinned.

"Don't argue." Nicky added, he was smiling as well.

Booker didn't say anything just stood up to follow her.

Nicky grabbed his pillows and blankets so there would be enough.

Nile and Quynh were both awake when they walked in, Andy had asked them to stay so that Booker wouldn't feel too overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry for waking everyone." Booker said sheepishly.

"Don't give it another thought." Quynh insisted and the rest of them agreed.

Nicky laid his stuff down by Nile but didn't turn to go back to bed just yet.

Nile noticed his thoughtful expression. "You can stay too." She offered squeezing his hand.

Nicky looked over at Joe.

Joe smiled and walked over to kiss Nicky's temple. "Room for two more?" He asked Andy.

"Always."

They weren't exactly sure how, but they got everyone to fit in a comfortable enough pile with Nile and Booker in the middle, surrounded by their family.

This was safe, this was home, and the nightmares stayed away.

#The Old Guard #let me know if something else should be tagged #the whole Guard is here #ficlet #fluff #fun #cute #family #cuddles #comfort #nightmares #violence #death

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

A Light In The Dark

Requested by @hobby27 “Ooo ohhh 65-66-67-70-78 shy dean and clueless reader” I hope you love it darling!

So this one has formed a life of its own so it's really long. I'm not even sorry about it.  I don't know exactly how shy Dean is in this...but I hope you like it!

65: “ Did you do something different with your hair? ”66: “ Is that a new perfume? ”67: “ Stop being so cute. ”70: “ This is why I fell in love with you. ”78: “ Hold me, don't let me go. ”

As always thank you for your likes, comments and reblogs. If you would like to be added to my Supernatural Tag List or any of my others (I currently write for SPN, MCU, Arrow, TVD and I love PLL so I’m down for that too) send me a message! (Not an ask- it’s easier for me to look back at messages if need be!)

Taglist:

@fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma

You were sitting in the library of the bunker doing some “light reading” on light magic. Nothing in the library of the bunker was light reading but it fascinated you. You, like the Winchesters, were a legacy to The Men of Letters. Granted you were a woman, but you were confident if they hadn’t gone out the way they did, as time went on more women would have been accepted into the society. You were a huge asset to the Winchester brothers and a huge nerd. Research and learning new things about the supernatural world were your life blood. Your photographic memory made your skills unmatched, even by Sam Winchester. You remember the day you met Sam and Dean vividly. It had been almost 3 years ago. You grew up thinking you were one thing. You had no idea you were adopted until you had a medical scare and needed a bone marrow transplant. Your parents had confessed the truth when no one in your family was a match. That led you down a dark and twisty road to your birth family’s past. 

Your mother had died after she gave birth to you, but it hadn’t been from child birth complications. She had been attacked by a vampire. Your father had stepped in while she was moments from death and killed the blood sucking bastard. He rushed your mother to the hospital. They were able to deliver you at 35 weeks via emergency C-Section. There was no way your mother would survive. The doctors acted quickly and saved your life. Your father, so grief stricken from the loss of his wife and his life as a hunter led him to give you up for adoption. 

Once he knew you would survive and were healthy, he found you a wonderful family who desperately wanted a child but couldn’t have one. He made sure you would live your best life. He explained all of this in a letter that your parents kept from you for the first 21 years of your life. You felt so betrayed and yet it made sense. You never felt like you belonged. You were always the “odd one out”. Your adopted mother had a miracle pregnancy when you were 4. They had given fertility treatments one last shot and the IVF brought you your brother and sister. You loved your siblings more than anything in the world but you never felt like you belonged with your twin siblings.

When you discovered your grandfather was a member of the Men of Letters and your mother would have been a legacy had the Men of Letters not been almost decimated. The Men of Letters fascinated you, so you dug and dug until you found out everything there was to know. It took a while but you discovered the location of their secret headquarters. You had been trying to figure out how to get into the bunker when Sam and Dean discovered you. They got the jump on you since you were so focused on breaking in. There you stood, hands in the air while two of the worlds most perfect men pointed guns at you. 

After tying you to a chair in the middle of a devil’s trap they put you through the gamete of testing to prove you were a human. Even after letting them slice into you to prove you were human, it took them 72 hours to give you a chance. It was surprisingly Dean that gave in first. He and Sam were fascinated by your story. You had made the bunker your home ever since that day. The boys had driven you to your home to pack up your things to stay with them at the bunker. You needed to find out who you really were. The answers you needed were there with Sam and Dean. Saying goodbye to your brother and sister was hard. Letting go of your parents was easier, the sting of betrayal and lies still so fresh. You hoped that you could forgive them one day for lying to you. 

You didn’t go on the road with them all that often. You usually worked research at home and sent them info. Occasionally when you felt the cabin fever closing in you’d hit the road with them. You were always welcome but they tended to push you to stay behind on the more grueling cases: The case they were on their way home from happened to be one of those cases. They had been gone for 3 1/2 weeks. A simple Salt and Burn spurred into another case a state over with shape shifter that proved to be one of the most difficult cases they had been involved in for a while. You missed them. The two had become your family. You were also worried. The eldest still held the Mark of Cain. While Dean had been somehow keeping the rage in check, you still worried he’d go off the deep end. His self-loathing was at an all time high. You were afraid if anything happened he wouldn’t be able to come back from it.  You settled down on the couch with a book. You were hoping you could find some magic to remove that damn mark. The boys stumbled in to the bunker a little after midnight. They were exhausted and sore. The idea of a hot shower and their own beds was beyond appealing. Dean also couldn’t wait to see you. He had spent so long trying to ignore the little feeling that fluttered in him any time he was with you for the longest time. You were the first girl in he didn’t even know how long that made him nervous and made him blush. You were blissfully unaware. Sam, however, was not. He razzed him about it often. The truth was though, you helped keep the Mark of Cain at bay. He would look at you and the blood pounding in his ears would dissipate. He knew you had made it your life’s mission to remove that mark from his arm. He was terrified that mission would kill you. 

They were surprised to see the library light on. Normally when you were in the bunker alone you went to sleep relatively early. Sam had worried about you being alone for so long, but the last time you spoke you had assured him that you were fine. In any event, you could take care of yourself. He’d watched you in the shooting range plenty of times to know how good your aim was. He looked at his brother leaning in the doorway and peeked his head in. There you were, passed out, book in your lap.

“You’re kind of creepy staring at her like that.” Sam elbowed his brother. He got a simple glare in return.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to leave her here or put her in her own bed.” Dean reasoned.

“Nah, you better wake her up. She’ll be pissed off if we came home and didn’t. Dean nodded. While Sam loved teasing his brother, it was nice to see him soften towards someone. After Lisa and Ben, Sam was sure that he would spend the rest of his life alone. You were different. You were in this life. You wanted to be in this life. You were good for Dean. Sam was quite certain you felt the same way Dean did, you just didn’t realize it yet. It was kind of an honor to watch the two people he cared most about fall in love.

“Hey- Y/N, wake up sweetheart.” Dean had sat down on the edge of the couch in front of your curled up form. He pushed some hair away from your face and you stirred.

“Dean?” You slowly opened your eyes. It took a moment for you to realize what was going on and then you popped up and threw your arms around him almost knocking the both of you off the couch. “Oh my god you’re okay. I was so scared something happened. You didn’t call. Why didn’t you call?” Your frantic rambling was always endearing. 

“The phone charger died out. There wasn’t a good place to stop and get one. We just wanted to get home.” You nodded your head and then buried it between his neck and shoulder for a moment. Sam felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Then he heard you say “You smell.” Dean laughed, a real laugh and pulled away and studied your face. He touched the end of your hair. When they had left it had been down to the middle of your back and now it barely touched your shoulders.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” It was in a teasing tone.

“I’m surprised you even noticed.” You teased back and Dean held his heart in mock offense. 

“Sammy, you may have the longest hair in the house now.” Sam rolled his eyes and strolled over as Dean helped you to your feet.

“Hi Sam.” You smiled and he bent down to hug you, lifting you off the ground slightly, ignoring the death glare from Dean. Sam was pretty sure he didn’t realize he was doing it. “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.” 

“I missed you too, y/n.” Sam let go much more quickly than Dean had. He reached over and grabbed the book you had been reading. “Light Magic and All It’s Wonders”? He gave you a skeptical look and you yanked it from his hands

. “Nothing but dark magic put that thing on his arm. Light magic may be what can get it off.” You reasoned. Sam wasn’t so sure. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that.” You turned from him before he could argue with you. 

“Is this what you’ve been doing for the last month? Haircuts and research?” Sam relented. He didn’t want to fight with you. 

“Yes. That’s what I’m here for. Research.”

“I just feel like if light magic could remove it, couldn’t Cass do it?” You looked at Sam like he was the dumbest person in the world.

“And how pure is angel magic really? I mean...even Cass has used his abilities for less than noble reasons. The magic that transferred that mark to Dean was pure evil. The only thing that will remove it is pure, unblemished magic. Your problem, is that you associate all witches with evil and deals with demons. That’s not the case. We know from Rowena that there are witches that are born with a gift and then there are those that gain their power from Hell. I will find a witch that has not compromised herself if that’s what it takes. There has to be one somewhere on this planet.” 

“Okay, enough guys.” Dean jumped in before Sam could respond. He couldn’t handle an intellectual sparring match at the moment. While you normally handed Sam his ass, Dean was too tired. “We can contemplate Glinda tomorrow. I need a shower, as Y/N so lovingly pointed out, I smell.“ Sam nodded and headed to his room. While he doubted you, he wanted you to be right. He didn’t mean to give you a hard time. He was more concerned how you were going to feel when it didn’t work. You were so invested in fixing Dean’s issue. He knew you were terrified that Dean would fall down the same rabbit hole Cain had. The idea of putting Dean down was not one anyone wanted to contemplate.

            _____________________________________________________              You woke up much earlier than you had wanted. You had hoped now that your boys were home and safe you would rest easier. That wasn’t the case. The Mark of Cain weighed heavily on you. You were scared. Sam was desperate. You wished he was more open to your ideas. You weren’t naive. You knew there was a good chance that you were wrong. But it didn’t hurt to try. You climbed out of bed to take a quick shower. You grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt. You knew you would end up cold so you put a cardigan out as well.

Once you were dressed you threw on a little bit of make up and headed out to the kitchen. You peaked in at Sam and saw him sprawled out on his bed. He must have been reading before he fell asleep. His arm was hanging over the bed and there was a book on the floor. You quietly shut the door and went and peeked at Dean. He was laying on his back lightly snoring. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep and not having nightmares. You wished it could be like this all of the time for him. You snuck in and quietly got the keys to the Impala so you didn’t wake him up. You grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a quick note to the boys that you ran out to get some groceries and to text you if they needed anything.

You happily hopped into the Impala. You had other cars you could drive but Dean’s was your favorite. You rolled the windows down and let the cool early morning air bite at your cheeks as you drove, turning up the music to quiet the thoughts of demon marks and bad omens that continually ran through your mind.

2 hours and $300 later you were stopping to get breakfast and coffee to bring back to the bunker. After all of the shopping you had no desire to cook anything. You’d make Sam and Dean something for dinner. They had been surviving mostly on bad diner food and convenience store snacks for the past month. You had lived mostly on Yogurt, cereal and pizza while they were gone. You hated cooking and especially hated cooking for yourself. Sam and Dean actually made more meals than you did. 

You pulled the Impala in the garage and texted both of the guys for help. It was unsurprising that Sam was the only one that came out to help.

“Dean’s still sleeping.” Was how Sam greeted you. You just nodded at him. You were still a little upset with him about the night prior. He sighed and finally started speaking. “I’m sorry. I just am worried you’re hanging your hat on this and it’ll fall through.” You sighed.

“Let’s just bring the groceries in. I bought breakfast too.” Sam laughed.

“You bought all of this food and then bought breakfast?”  

“Shut up.” You laughed.

           _____________________________________________________      

You tip toed into Dean's room with a takeout container and a styrofoam cup of coffee and set it on the night stand. You say on the edge of his bed and gently shook him.

“Dean...wake up.” He groaned and slowly opened his eyes and gave you a soft smile.

“Is that a new perfume

or did you bring me bacon?” You threw your head back and laughed.

“Stop being so cute. Get up and eat, it’s after 10am. Oh, I took the Impala this morning. Filled it up with gas for you.”

“Breakfast in bed and you took care of my car?  

This is why I fell in love with you.

“ Dean stopped, eyes wide and a blush creeping up his face. How you didn’t notice he was freaked out, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know if he was happy or disappointed by your reaction.

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes. “Man...I should have brought you pie too...you’d be kissing my feet” you patted his cheek and stood up.

“Meet me and Sammy in the library when you’re done. We’re going to get our nerd on.” You smiled at him brightly and then left the room.

“I think I found a spell.” You jumped up from the table. “Sammy...I found it.” Your eyes were wild with excitement. “We can save him” Sam prayed silently that he didn’t have to crush your excitement. He slid the book over to his side of the table to take a look.

“This might work.” He grinned at you. 

“We just have to find the right witch to do it.” 

"The right witch to do what?" Dean poked his head in the library. 

"She found a spell in that book." Sam let himself get excited. 

"Can't Rowena do it?" Dean questions. You shook your head.

  "No...from what I can tell, it has to be a witch that is, and I quote, pure of heart. So that means they haven't practiced dark magic...not even once." 

"Well how the hell are we going to find a witch that hasn't?" You scoffed at Dean.

"Will you ever learn? Not all witches are evil. Just because something has the reputation of being bad, doesn't make it so. It's not the rule."

"You're right. But wouldn't it be easier to find a way for Rowena to remove it?" Sam asked. 

"Dark magic always has an incredibly dark cost. Don't you think we've suffered enough consequences?" Neither Dean or Sam responded. You pushed the book aside and pulled out your laptop, determined to find a witch to solve all of your problems.

           _____________________________________________________      

It had been weeks and you were still no closer to finding someone to cast the spell to remove the mark from Dean's arm. You were frustrated and getting increasingly cranky with Sam and his constant negativity. When Dean suggested that the three of you take a break and go out and have some fun, you jumped at the chance.

"Okay...the rule of this trip is that we don't talk about the mark, removing it, magic or skeevey witches." Dean laid the ground rules out before he started the Impala. You were settled into the backseat behind him so Sam could push the seat back further and have more leg room. You met Dean's eyes in the mirror and he gave you a smile and you were off. 

"You okay sweetheart?" Dean's voice pulled you from your thoughts almost two hours into your night. You had been sitting at the bar sipping your drink and watching the boys play darts. You hadn't noticed you were zoned out and they had stopped playing until he was standing next to you. Sam was watching cautiously from the other side of the bar.  "I haven't heard a peep out of you since we got here."

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About what?" You met his eyes in the mirror.

"Can't tell you...it's against the rules." He sighed and leaned in closer to you.

"Y/N...please, I'm begging you. Please just put it away for now." You didn't respond, instead, you hopped off of your stool, stomping towards the bathrooms. You shut the door and locked it behind you and took a few deep breaths. You were trying to save his life. He couldn't go back to being a demon. You and Sam...you wouldn't survive the loss. The two of them became your family and it was the first time in your life you felt like you belonged. You took a few more moments to compose yourself and you exited the bathroom to find Dean, arms crossed, waiting for you. You mirrored his stance, crossing your arms, one hip jutting you and you stared back at him. 

"You've got to let it go. You're driving yourself and Sam crazy with this white witch business. You're obsessed." 

"Of course I'm obsessed. I don't want to lose you. Just stop, okay?" You walked past him and headed out the back door to get some air. You really didn't feel like getting into a screaming match where anyone could hear. 

"Sweetheart, you're not going to. We'll figure this out, we always do." Dean was chasing after you. You spun to face him. 

"And with what consequences? I'm not letting Rowena anywhere near you. Not with her magic. You'll be the one that has to pay the price, and who's to say that price isn't worse than  the mark itself. And if we leave it? How long until you're completely a demon again and we can't get you back? Neither one of those are an option. Sam and I almost didn't survive this last time when you went off with Crowley. Neither one of us will if you fade on us again" You wiped a stray tear that slid down your cheek. Dean wiped the next one that fell, leaving his hand on your face and his thumb caressing your cheek. You didn't realize how close he was until you looked up and were staring directly into his green eyes. You felt your breath hitch. His intense stare left you feeling exposed. "Dean-" 

But before you could say anything further he was kissing you. You never realized how badly you wanted to kiss him until his lips were on yours. What started off as slow and sweet quickly turned needy and he had you pushed up against the building, one hand still on your face, the other in the back of your hair. You were breathless when he pulled you away.

"You don't understand. You're not going to lose me. I was keeping the mark in check before I was killed. The only reason why I went demon is because that's what saved my life. But now that you and Sam got my humanity back, it wont happen again. Don't you get it? You keep me here. You keep me here. You're the light through the darkness. I wont ever leave you. God, I love you, so much. I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much." Your eyes were wide.  "Say something...please." 

"I...I think I might love you too." He kissed you again.

"Hold me, don't let me go."  

You whispered. The two of you stood in an embrace for a long time until Sam came out when it was time to go home.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester request #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural request #supernatural imagine #Supernatural Imagines #spn #spn request #spn imagine #spn imagines

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (16) Struggling

Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

Note: This chapter has brief mentions of the previous two chapters. We are in the viewer’s perspective.

—

Hawkmoth. We need to talk. —Salo.

Alya stared at the sentence over and over, her breath hitching in her throat. How could this happen? It couldn’t! It just couldn’t!

“I have to remove this link!” Alya stated. “Max, can I get on your computer?”

“Of course,” he stated, taking out his laptop. “It’s pretty obvious how she posted that. You are using a public server through blogspot, after all.”

“Can you prevent her from doing it again?” She asked, logging into her account.

“Of course. No problem.”

Incorrect username.

Alya clenched her fists. “That bitch kicked me out!”

“Now now, hold on.” Max assured, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Let Markov try.”

“Of course, this will be easy. One moment please.” Markov plugged into the computer, and in a few seconds, the Ladyblog’s dashboard appeared.

“Wonderful! I’ll change my email and password too. After I delete this post!”

It was right up top, in the most plain and boring formatting. Just a white box with black text.

“Huh.” Alya said aloud, staring at it.

“What’s wrong, Al?” Asked Nino.

“There’s no trash icon. No comment section, no share icon, nothing. I can’t edit it or delete it.”

“Allow me,” stated Markov again.

A red triangle with an exclamation point came up on his face. “Whoopsies, we don’t have access to the post.”

“Whaddya mean we don’t have access!? This is my blog, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no.” Said Max. “Everything around this post is your blog. But this box itself is not.”

“Huh?”

“Think of it…as Salo cut a hole in your website and has this in the background, showing through.”

“You can do that?” Asked Nino.

“Not easily, by any means. It’s extremely complicated. I’ve never tried it myself. No need to.”

“So…what do we do?” Alya crossed her arms, looking anxious.

Max screwed up his lip in thought, turning the laptop towards himself. He typed away, a next window coming up. In a flash of textual garbage, too complexed for anyone else to understand, he had a diagnosis. “Okay…well, the post has a slightly different URL, that’s associated with the blog. But it’s being hosted on a private server, which I can’t access. At least not yet. I can try to take it down, but it will take me a few hours, at least.”

“But we don’t have a few hours! Hawkmoth could see this post at any second!”

“I understand. The other thing we could do, is delete the blog in its entirety. Then the post won’t have a URL to associate with and will be unviewable.”

Delete the Ladyblog.

Alya felt sick.

What was two years of hard work in exchange for her friend’s safety? She still had all the videos, all the pictures, she could make a new website, right? One that got Marinette’s approval before every posting.

“Okay—“

“Wait,” said Nino. “Shouldn’t we see where the link goes first? What if it helps the police find them?”

Alya gasped slightly. “I’m glad you thought of that!”

“Markov, initiate Backdraft operations.” Max said.

“Backdraft initiated.”

“What’s backdraft?” Asked Alya.

“It’s simply a protocol I use if I think my presence is being tracked, or I may be counter hacked. It’s basically a fancy firewall.”

“Oh, I see.”

With the class gathered around, Max clicked on the link.

Another window popped up, with a loading wheel. It spun for a moment, then a big red ‘X’ covered the screen and the window closed.

“Hmm…how very interesting.”

“What the heck was that?” Asked Kim, resting his chin on Max’s head like a pest.

“Believe it or not, that was a video chat. But it uses facial recognition to get in.”

“So it’s not going to be helpful to us at all. Huh?”

“I can try to track it. Though it may be difficult since the page closes so quickly.”

Nino whispered as quietly as possible. “Didn’t the detective say he wanted to use your blog to help with the investigation?”

Alya scrunched up her face. Now she had to make two decisions. Stop Hawkmoth, or take the chance and maybe get a lead on Salo.

Any normal person would have gone with the absolute, but Alya was desperate.

“Leave the blog up. Do you think you can track the link?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.” Said Max, honestly.

Alya gave a twitch of a smile.

Something about her conversation with Hawkmoth earlier niggled in her brain. He had addressed her by her name, not as an Akuma. And when she asked him to leave, he left.

Of course, there was no trusting the man, that was obvious, but as far as villains go, she was much more willing to deal with him than Salo.

Alya shook her head. That was an insane thought.

Then the bell rang, and lunch was officially over. Alya and Nino found their seats, now feeling keenly aware that Adrien and Marinette were both absent from class.

“Oh,” said Nino, holding up a pink backpack. “She left it here. Adrien’s is here too.”

Alya smiled fondly. “We’ll carry them back with us.”

—

Miss Bustier was nothing if not understanding. None of the students had their homework done from yesterday, so she just cancelled the assignment. Alya and Nino weren’t given the missed work from this morning either.  

She had a feeling they probably wouldn’t be doing it anyways.

Alya had her phone out all day, plugged into a portable charger.

She constantly refreshed the page, hoping for something different.

But no. For hours now, Adrien and Marinette has been hanging by the wrists from chains.

Near the end of the day, Alya looked over to see Marinette speaking to the camera.

She rewound, found the time stamp and raised her hand.

“Yes Alya?”

“Marinette’s saying something! She’s speaking to us!”

“Are you sure?” Miss Bustier asked.

Nino was already next to her, looking at the screen.

“She’s looking right at the camera. I don’t think she’s talking to Adrien.”

“Can I turn on the projector?” Asked Max.

“Well…” Miss Bustier saw the first broadcast. She had turned away the moment Marinette was demanded to strip. She hadn’t watched anything since, and didn’t know if it was safe to show the students.

But looking around, she saw that they were all worried, and eager to see what Marinette had to say.

And so she nodded at Max.

In a matter of seconds, the website was up, and Adrien and Marinette’s states were now visible to the room.

There was a round of gasps.

No one had watched the stream this morning.

“Is that…is that Adrien?” Chloe asked, with choking breath.

Regardless of the state of room, Alya hit play.

Marinette looked around, and then looked directly at the camera. She gave a tired little smile.

“Hey,” she spoke in an absolutely broken voice. “If you’re watching this, you…you’re probably feeling a little hopeless. I don’t blame you. I feel…pretty hopeless too. I mean, I’m…I’m stuck. I’m not sure how I’m going to get out of this. But…but Ladybug always saves the day, right?” She glanced away, choosing her words. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m 17 years old, and my favorite color is pink. I’m the daughter of the best bakers in Paris, though I might be a little bias.” She smiled slightly. “Before I became Ladybug, I was a normal girl, with a normal life. What made me extraordinary, was my willingness to help others, and my kindness. So Paris, I have a favor to ask:

“Be helpful and kind. Go out of your way do something nice for someone once a day. If you can do this for me, then I know Paris will be safe until we return.”

“I promise.” Alya heard Chloe whisper.

She glanced over to Adrien, then off screen, and then back at the camera. “Maman, Papa...I’m really really sorry I had to hide this from you. I didn’t want to, and some days I thought about how much easer it would be if I just told you. How I could explain the lateness and absences, and my bad grades. But I just had to let you think I was a bad kid. It was for your safety, after all...but despite my best efforts, this still happened, and now you’re in danger. Please get somewhere safe. Leave Paris if you have to. I love you so much. I promise I’ll be out soon.”

Her brow crinkled, as she hesitated. Then, “Alya, I’m sorry too. You…you probably feel kinda betrayed right now. But, like I said, it was for your own safety. You were put in peril so many times because of me. How many more would that have been if Hawkmoth thought you knew my identity? After everything, I hope you finally believe me now...sorry, that was harsh. I...I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me. Deal?”

Alya broke down sobbing. If there was anything else to be heard, she missed it. Of course she forgave Marinette! How could she not? Marinette picked her as Rena Rouge, time and time again!

And what did she do in return?

Stab her in the back.

Some best friend she was.

“Al…” Nino comforted. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright!” Alya shouted, startling everyone. She hated how much of a mess she was. She was supposed to be a superhero, damnit! But at this rate, Hawkmoth would try to akumatize her again.

“She’s right, you know.” Said Miss Bustier, rubbing a hand under her eye. “It’s not alright.” She cleared her throat and spoke to the class. “I know things seem bleak right now. And it’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to grieve and to hurt. But it’s never okay to hurt others to make yourself feel better. That’s exactly what Salo is doing. That’s what Hawkmoth has done for years. I know it hurts, and things seem hopeless. But we need to listen to Marinette, to Ladybug. Go out of your way to be kind to someone.”

Alya breathed a sigh. Miss Bustier always knew what to say to make things better.

“Alya, can you come stand with me please?”

She nodded, getting to her feet. Up front, Miss Bustier hugged her, and held her around the waist, as she beckoned each one of her students forward.

“Alya, you’re so smart.”

“You’ve got a wicked sense of humor!”

“You’re really perceptive, and notice things that others don’t!”

“You always put in that extra bit of work to make a project look amazing!”

On and on, each student complimented her, as was custom in Miss Bustier’s class. But all of them were genuine, not just going through the motions.

Except maybe Lila, but still, it was hard to tell. “You are really dedicated to your blog, and put everything on it, to make it just right.”

Alya swallowed. That comment fell flat in comparison to the others.

Chloe came up, a scowl directed in Lila’s direction, then she grabbed Alya by the upper arms. “You are fiercely protective to your friends. No matter who they are. If you feel friendly towards them, you protect them. And that’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

Alya wanted to cry again, but she spared Chloe the satisfaction. “You’re just trying to be nice.”

“Me? Nice? As if!” She scoffed, but they both knew it was true.

“The reason we do these activities,” explained Miss Bustier, “is so that when you see someone having hard time, you take the time to cheer them up. It should be an automatic response.”

“For Marinette and Adrien!” Cheered Kim in the back.

“For Marinette and Adrien!”

—

After school, Alya and Nino gathered their stuff from their lockers. It was time to head back to the Agreste Mansion, for their own safety. Though, the temptation to go out and patrol was strong. Yet the heat was still on, and it wasn’t smart to risk it just quite yet.

“Alya?” A soft voice asked.

It was Choe. And she looked shy. Sabrina was no where to be seen.

“Hey Chloe,” Alya said pleasantly. It felt better to just be nice, like Miss Bustier suggested.

“I…” Chloe started, then she turned away. It took a few tries, each time she started differently. Then, she finally managed out. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What?”

“I…I don’t know what to do. Normally, when I want something, daddy just buys it for me. He takes care of everything. I’ve never been in a situation where I couldn’t have what I wanted. But…but I can’t do that with this. I begged daddy to save them. Both of them. And he tried! He talked to the chief of police and they got in contact with Europol…but basically…there’s nothing they can do. So…I have to do it myself. I have to save them.”

Alya scoffed slightly. “You can’t save them yourself.”

“I have too.” Chloe said right back, her daily stubbornness shining through. “You don’t understand!”

“Chloe…”

“I found the Bee Miraculous. Marinette dropped it, and I found it. Despite all my mistakes, all my insults and my cruelty, Marinette…Marinette let me become Queen Bee. Several times. She threw a party for me, when I felt like no one liked me. She went out of her way to help me reconnect with my mother. And…” She started to sob.

Chloe, it’s me, Ladybug. You can trust me, you can tell me the truth.

You have a purpose.

“She spoke to me in a way no one else had before. She was so…so nice! And she meant it! Only Adrien ever treated me like that! But I was never mean to him!” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “That’s why I have to save them! She has to know how sorry I am! How much I appreciate her! And how much Ladybug still means to me!”

Alya was touched. “Why you telling me this?”

“Because you’re the Ladyblogger, duh! You’ve got to know something! Don’t you have a hint to who Rena Rouge are Carapace are? Any way to contact them? I want to help them! As Queen Bee!”

Alya screwed up her lip. “And you don’t care about the attention of being a superhero in the limelight again?”

“Puh-lease, if I cared about attention, I wouldn’t look like this!” She gestured to herself.

Nino snickered. “I didn’t even think you owned a track suit.”

“How do you think I stay in peak physical form? By Instagraming all day?!”

“Still…”

“Fine! It’s Givenchy! Give me a break!”

Alya and Nino shared a look of understanding. Now was the time to use all the help they could get. Alya reached into her bag and pulled out a little black box. “Chloe Bourgeois. This is the Miraculous of the Bee. You will use it for good. Until such a time that Ladybug and Chat Noir are safe, you will keep it safe and protect it.”

“And you won’t put it on your snap story!” Nino added, harshly.

Chloe took the box, reverently. “Are…are you sure?”

“The guardian gave it to us, and told us to give it to you when we felt it was safe.”

Chloe, smiling, opened the lid, and a glittering yellow light appeared.

“Hello my queen!” Pollen sang.

“Pollen!” She scooped her up and held her to her cheek. Then she looked back to Alya and Nino. “When do we start our patrol?”

Alya laughed, happy to see Chloe so eager. “Soon. But we have some catch up to play.”

—

It had never been this hard to akumatize someone.

Granted, Chloe Bourgeois had put up a great fight. But it was nothing like this.

Hawkmoth had assumed Alya would be the perfect candidate to become an Akuma. In all the times he had been around her, granted it was only a handful, she had been absolutely devastated.

Lady WiFi had been amazing, and given her powers of pausing, she would have been great.

But, she was not cooperative. Sure, maybe he could have pushed her a little more, put on the pressure. But it didn’t feel right.

Nothing about this felt right.

And that’s what made him so conflicted.

Because we was willing to do whatever it took to get Emilie back. Exploiting people who were having the worst day, who were in unbearable pain.

So why the hesitation now? This was Adrien, the light of his life. The only family he had left. He loved his son, although he often had a hard time showing it.

He reached out to Nino Lahiffe, who, admittedly, was not as visibly upset as Alya had been, but his hurt was still present. Nino was unbearably calm as he asked Hawkmoth to ‘kindly f—- off.’

Next was Chloe Bourgeois. Surely she would agree, right? She loved Adrien!

Oh but she was nearly feral trying to get rid of him. She yanked on her hair and screamed and cried.

He left quickly, feeling her pain as his own.

He looked at Tom and Sabine, but didn’t have the heart to even try. Ladybug’s parents, now that was cruel.

He was beginning to run out of victims. Gorilla? Nathalie? Himself?

Lila Rossi! She was always ready and willing to be akumatized!

But then, he remembered with growing horror that she hated Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She may try to save Adrien, but she’d leave Marinette all alone to suffer. And that was almost worse.

He dropped his transformation, a dropped to his knees.

“Master? Please don’t cry.”

“I disgust myself.” He whined in the back of his throat. “Why…why can’t I do it? What makes this so different? Am I not desperate enough? Do I not love Adrien enough?!"

Noroo swooped in and nuzzled against Gabriel’s cheek. “You love Adrien plenty. Don’t beat yourself up over having sympathy for others in pain.”

Gabriel swallowed, digesting the kwami’s words. “I suppose...that means there’s hope for me yet.”

The elevator rose, bringing Nathalie into the room. “Sir, Madame Cheng has something to show you on the stream.”

“She found something?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we’ll continue this later Noroo, let’s go.”

—

Sabine stood in the lobby, her phone in hand. Thankfully, the stream could be rewound to repeat anything that had happened. And so when Gabriel finally emerged from his office, she went to him, thrust the phone in his face, and pressed play.

“Notausgang.”

“Pardon?”

“Notausgang. Does that word sound familiar?”

“No...it sounds German though. Why?”

“It’s written on the wall behind you.”

“Like Graffiti?”

“No...it looks like it’s supposed to be there. Like a sign.”

“A German sign on the wall? You don’t think...we’re in Germany, do you?”

“I have no clue where we are, but...why else would there be German on the wall?”

“Well, maybe we’re still in France. Maybe not Paris, but Alsace-Lorraine or...”

“Notausgang is German for ‘Emergency Exit’. It’s everywhere in Germany.” Gabriel responded. “Not so much in Alsace-Lorraine. If there’s no French by it, it’s safe to assume they are in Germany.”

Sabine choked. “Oh no…no no no…”

Gabriel rested a calm hand on her arm. “Sabine, it’s alright. This is good. We know we’re looking in the wrong place, and we can tell the detective what we learned. Okay?”

She nodded, wiping her cheeks. “I just…they’re so far…I feel so helpless!”

“I feel the same.” He assured.  

And he did. Not only did he have no clue where they were in Germany, but his akumas couldn’t reach farther than Paris. Even if he were to go to Germany, he’d have to spend days hopping around from city to city. And that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Still…if that’s what it took.

First, they’d talk to the detective. Then they’d plan the next move.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfiction #chloe bourgeois #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #hawkmoth #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #adrienette #longest night

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [23] - {ShikaTema AU}

Hey there, it’s me, back again with a long-ass chapter.

Little right now that there’s some implied smut here (the overhyped and probably disappointing table scene). Nothing explicit or intense, just something. It’s kinda fluffy and not too thirsty. But, if that bothers you, here is your warning. I think it’s pretty tame and it’s fairly clear where that section occurs :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

[READ / COMMENT on AO3]

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Milk, no sugar, Temari sipped on her tea slowly, staring down that the blank screen of her phone and the empty tub of reheated pasta she’d brought in. All she could do her entire lunch break was stare and hope, waiting for a buzz or a ring and for his name to pop up on the screen.

Discontented, she opened her phone again and examined the message that she had sent earlier that morning, and in turn the lack of response, and her head grew fuzzy as the smile spread across her face.

‘Hi. Thank you again for last night.’

Barely a line of text, just a simple sentence; it didn’t express at all how she really felt at this point in time. How happy she really was to have spent her evening with him and it having ended nicely; how awful she felt knowing that she was inherently letting down her boss and her integrity; how incredible it was to have him hold her in the park, kiss her outside her home, no matter how cold it was; how her desire to help him had only grown and she could do so little about it.

With a sigh she flicked off her phone and put the empty tub to the side, drawing closer the keyboard on her desk. She groaned, absentmindedly switching on the computer and resting her head in her hands.

How was she going to help him? She’s told him she had a plan, and somehow he’d believed her, but in reality she had no clue. Yes, the road block that he had to tackle before he could feel at peace with the past and what he did for people was clear—he had to understand that he wasn’t causing anyone any suffering by being upset, and that grieving was always okay. But he also had to come to terms with the passing of time, and she knew it wasn’t the man’s death that haunted him most these days. He’d told her it was his own feelings, and how he didn’t deserve to feel that way; how he didn’t deserve to cry when a woman had been left alone without her husband, and a little girl born without her father.

He had to learn, somehow, that he had every right to be sad. He had to learn that others forgive and that others understand.

But how on earth was she going to do that when the person at the heart of this all was not only a stranger to her, but had been gone almost seven years?

Her fingertips danced across the keyboard, opening the database of the practice’s clients and searching for the lady she knew would be walking through the door in five minutes, when suddenly, upon scrolling over her name she stopped.

The name appeared twice, and Temari only knew which was correct by the age in brackets beside her name, but she knew of no other lady of that name that she had seen.

“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes widening, “I can see all of them. Not just mine...”

On a whim, she hurried to type the only name that was circulating in her mind right now, immediately it flashed up: Shikamaru Nara. All of the tiny notes she’d attached to his file herself—for her viewing only, hidden from the other psychiatrists who worked here—flew up across the screen, the same name littering eight percent of the page.

Asuma Sarutobi.

So on a whim, she typed it into the database, and pressed enter with a huff watching as Shikamaru’s file vanished and was replaced with a blank page beside three depressing words:

No results found.

“Obviously,” she groaned as she backspaced and twisted her hair around her fingers, chewing on her lip. “What about…surely not…”

After taking a sip of her tea she simply typed his last name, wondering if Shikamaru was wrong - it was Asuma was a middle name or nickname, after all.

She almost didn’t search it. Why would his teacher—who sounded perfectly sound of mind from Shikamaru’s vague, but greatly understandable descriptions—have a therapist? And much more so, why specifically hers? It would have to be the most ridiculous chance if his name did appear, and even if it did there was no way for her to access his file unless she asked someone else, and just this morning she’d asked for the paperwork to sign Shikamaru out of her professional care and it was starting her down from her in-tray behind the computer. He wouldn’t be a valid excuse, she’d just look like a nosy bitch.

But what did she have to lose if she clicked enter? She could live with the same feeling of nothing again, that’s for sure.

So she did it, and to her amazement and almost her horror, she got one result.

‘Kurenai Sarutobi (née Yūhi) - 38’

Temari couldn’t stop staring, in shock mostly. Her brain whizzed and whirred hoping that maybe she’d get the courage to click on that link and view what little she was allowed to see—see if there was anything at all that linked this person to the situation she was searching for answered to.

Just as her mouse began to hover, her phone suddenly began to buzz and she jumped out of her skin, clicking the name without meaning to. With quivering fingers she lifted the phone to her ear, stunned into silence.

“Tem?”

It was him and his dumb, raspy, deep voice that sent shivers down her spine. As if this situation couldn’t get any more twisted, he just had to go and ring her now.

“Temari, are you there?”

“Yes, sorry!” she replied, forcing a laugh. “I was just looking at something. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Shikamaru snorted down the end of the line, chuckling. “Nothing. I left my phone at Chōji’s last night—only just grabbed it. I’m on lunch.”

“So am I.”

There was a pause. Had he really just called to hear her voice? If so, as sweet as that might’ve been, Temari did have to admit she had something else on her mind right now.

“So you’re definitely okay, Shikamaru?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I meant to say thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome.” She was so glad that this was a phone call—she could feel herself getting flustered the more he spoke. “Was that all?”

“Desperate to get rid of me, are we?” The hint of sadness seeping through the sarcasm of his tone left her feeling slightly evil. “One more thing: are you busy tonight?”

Temari winced. “I’ve not been in two nights in a row, and Kankuro will be threatening to follow me if I go out again, for sure,” she smiled, hoping he could hear the apology that she had meant to say just in her tone. Her mind was elsewhere. More precisely it was exactly where her eyes were, set on this name. “Hey, do you know a ‘Kurenai’?”

The silence on the other end was eerie, and she could hear faint babbling of other people on the street instead of him. He must’ve been smoking, and she must have stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Shikamaru?”

“Um, sorry. Yeah. Kurenai was Asuma’s wife’s name.” He cleared his throat. “Why?”

“No reason,” lied Temari, jotting down the name and address that sat on her screen, the only information provided without authorised access.

“That’s so clearly a lie, Tem.”

“It isn’t a lie,” she chirped. “Just forget I asked.”

“Coincidence’s like that don’t just happen...”

“Shikamaru, are you busy Saturday?”

His deep laugh echoed down the phone. “Don’t try and steer me away from the subject, Tem, I—”

“I said,” she spat, toning up the harshness a little to much, “are you busy Saturday?”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday,” she repeated. “I’m pretty sure Kankuro is spending the weekend with his girlfriend at her place, so he won’t be around.” She carefully set her pen down and nibbled on her thumbnail nervously as she continued. “I thought maybe you’d want to meet my other brother?”

“The non-Kankuro one, right?”

“Yes, the one that you spoke to on the phone.”

Again, Shikamaru paused, but not nearly for as long this time. “I don’t know,” he finally said, his monotone voice firmly back. “I mean, I’ll see you but—”

“Okay,” she rushed. “No, then. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet him, I just—”

“It’s fine,” she spat. “We can just do something else.” Temari’s eyes fell to her lap. “If you actually want to.”

“Of course I want to.”

Five words and her spirits lifted instantly. It didn’t make her feel any less of an idiot, but she definitely felt her efforts weren’t totally futile. As she stared down at her notebook and the name and address scrawled on the page, her mind flew from side to side with the craziest of ideas—something that he knew she would hate, something he would never agree to in a million years, just like she’d lied to him about already deciding to do.

Instantly, her mind was made up.

“I’ve got a plan for us,” she smirked, hoping he wouldn’t hear the mischief lingering in her tone. “Secret plan, but a plan. You don’t have to think.” She quickly searched the address she’d written down on the internet, and frowned. “Can you drive?”

She could hear him blow near the microphone what she assumed was smoke. “Uh-huh.”

“Do you have a car?”

“No.”

Shit, she thought. “Do your parents have one?”

“They do. Why?”

Shikamaru was getting suspicious of her—she could tell—so, in the sweetest voice she could muster without sounding ridiculous, Temari made her final play; asked her final question: “Can you borrow it on Saturday?”

“Sure.”

That was too easy.

“I’ve, um…” She heard rustling on the other end and a bell jingle. “I’ve got to go.”

Temari stretched a smile across her face. “Okay. Shall I text you later?”

“If you want to,” he chuckled, unbothered. “Go for it.”

Mixed messages, dumb-ass, she pondered. Good job I know what you’re like by now.

“Right,” he added, the word loaded with finality. “See you later.”

She almost whispered through her smile into the microphone. “Bye.”

“Yeah, bye.”

When the line went dead, Temari could barely believe the situation was real. Here she was with the name and address of the woman who Shikamaru felt so obliged to help and ashamed of himself that he never actually did; the person who might actually help him see that there’s good in the world, and show him how people can let things go and that they understand. She knew it would be intruding on personal space, but she knew it had to be worth a shot. Worst case scenario: if the woman turned out to be really rude and horrible, they could take away from the experience that she probably didn’t deserve the help he offered her.

But what else seemed surreal was Shikamaru. When he joked with her and listened to her, she couldn’t help but picture the obnoxious young man she’d first met, so skinny and scrawny she couldn’t believe he was an adult. After just under one month he’d come so far; he looked so much healthier as though he’d eaten more and better, and generally had a much healthier attitude as far as she could tell. But Temari couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t her efforts as his psychiatrist that had made much of a difference to that. What was affecting him, helping him, seemed to be what she’d done for him as a friend, or whatever she was to him now.

Helping people in whatever way was good, she knew that deep down, but she couldn’t do this with everybody or else she’d wear herself out. She had become a therapist to help everyone, lots of people, and she had to do it the right way.

It was time to put aside all her thoughts of Shikamaru Nara when she was in this room.

So, vowing to finally adhere to her professionalism, she clicked shut the file of Kurenai Sarutobi and quickly skimmed the page of the lady about to walk through her door. She tore the page with the info she’d jotted down from her notebook and slipped it into her bag, knowing that she had all the time in the world to figure the logistics of that out in her own time.

She reached behind her computer and signed the papers to end his time as her patient, and it was if something clicked in her brain as she slid the paperwork into her out-tray. Each hour, from now on, was totally dedicated to whoever was on that couch and not some lanky, handsome genius smoking outside of the florist.

Just in time, Temari slid her phone in her bag, and a gentle rapping on the door told her to lunch was definitely over.

“Hi!” she called out. “Come on in!”

~~~

“I’m leaving,” Shikamaru called out to Ino upstairs, stashing his apron behind the counter on the shop floor. “Chuck me my coat!”

“Get your own coat!”

“Ino, it’s pissing it down outside! Give me my coat!”

After a short moment of waiting, the coat tumbled down the stairs and he smiled. “Thanks,” he said, grabbed the coat and throwing it on. “See you later.”

If she did reply, he didn’t wait around to listen; he was out of that door as quickly as he could be. It wasn’t that he was desperate to be in the rain, or even that he was desperate for the cigarette that he habitually slotted between his lips, but after a long day, as soon as the clock struck four-thirty, he was ready for fresh air to hit his face. Plus, he couldn’t be roped into closing up shop again.

As he hurried to light his cigarette, Shikamaru just so happened to glance up and across the street, curious if his favourite overprotective carpenter was mulling around by the window as he had been on Shikamaru’s lunch break. And, as if by magic, there he was, raking his hands through his brown hair and looking straight into his eyes.

Upon finally lighting his smoke and puffing out a large cloud into the cold air, Shikamaru shot the man a subtle smile, raising his hand—half-arsed—in recognition.

As with Ino, he didn’t wait around to see his response—he wasn’t sure he wanted to—but he new two things instantly as he started walking along the pavement. The first was that he wished he’d taken up Temari’s offer to meet Gaara, knowing how pissed Kankuro would inevitably be and how amusing it would be for him, if a little scary. The second was more important for this precise moment; his coat had no hood or waterproofing, and it really was pissing it down.

Shikamaru rooted around the inside pocket of his coat with his spare hand, never sacrificing a moment of extra warmth that each drag of his cigarette gave him over that task, and searched for loose change which he was sure he’d accumulated over time. He pulled out a monstrous four-pound-sixty.

Enough to get me home, he noted, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans and continuing his walk to the bus stop.

By the time he got to the bus stop, the cigarette he desperately clung to was on it’s last legs, and he put the tube to rest under his foot as he fell back onto the seat of the shelter. In his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he slowly pried it out from his pocket, rolling his eyes.

Ino: ‘U sure walk slow for some1 in the rain x’

‘I’ll paint that window black one day, Ino.’

Shaking his head, he quickly checked Temari’s number, something deep in his gut wishing that any second his phone would buzz in his hands and he could hear her voice again. He felt stupid for it, but he couldn’t help himself typing a pathetic ‘Hello’ and staring it, unsent in his message box.

“Hey, kid!”

His head shot up, and right there stood the bus and a red-faced old man at the wheel, leaning toward him.

“You getting on or what?”

Sheepishly, Shikamaru hauled himself up and onto the bus, emptying the change into the drivers hand and shoving his phone and the ticket he received into his inside pocket when he flopped back into his seat near the front. His fingertips brushed against the silver lighter that always loomed in that pocket, and a shiver, as if he hadn’t expected it, made stuck the hairs on the back of his neck on end as he enveloped it in his palm carefully.

When he took it from his pocket, he examined it as he always did; running his thumb along every smooth edge, across the curved top and flicking it open. For a second he stared at the place from which the flame should burst from—a flame he had never dared to ignite—but all too soon, as though he wasn’t controlling his own hand, the young man flicked it shut once again.

Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Click. Pause.

Countless times he had sat in his garden and stared at that lighter, lifeless and unlit, and felt it burn his hand until he could look at it no longer. Sometimes he’d even been unable to look at it, but despite that he’d never go anywhere without it in his pocket. He had to; most of the time it was more of a comfort blanket to him than anything he’d ever owned, and in any moment of unease he reached for it without thinking, which always lead to the same repetitive pattern.

Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Click. Pause.

He wasn’t sure that anyone really understood what it meant to him to own it or why it was so precious to him, and as he sat on that bus seat he was sure the noise was bothering countless people. At the same time, however, he didn’t care. What had triggered his need to fiddle with it’s lid he wasn’t sure, but the action certainly accompanied the slightly uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Admittedly, it was probably nerves as to why Temari had been so vague earlier, and why she’d asked about the things she did, the person she did…

He felt his shoulders tightening as he remembered her sad face, and as the bus came to a stop Shikamaru opened the lighter one final time. Asuma, he thought to himself, I’m so sorry…

“Shikamaru? Shikamaru Nara?”

Click.

The voice was so soft he’d barely managed to recognise it, but as he lifted his head with the lighter shut firmly and tight in his fist, the was no denying it. He gulped and hopped to his feet without thinking, his eyes too permanently set on the woman before him and the little pair of legs that hid behind hers.

This is a cruel joke, universe, he thought as he stared down into the eyes of Kurenai Sarutobi, rife with mixed emotion and clearly as unsettled as he was. The little hand she gripped in her own left him speechless, and his mouth fell open as the little girl peered around her mother and up at him.

Quietly, as she tugged on Kurenai’s sleeve,  she whispered, “Mummy, who’s that?” But her mother was equally as speechless as the young man before them. Her eyes fell down to the lighter in his hands and she sighed, her lips parting slowly.

He knew what she was about to say, and there was no in way he could stomach it.

With too much haste Shikamaru shoved the lighter back into his pocket and, mouth moving silently as it tried to form any word whatsoever, he slipped passed her, shaking his head sadly.


“S’cuse me!” he called to the driver. “Hello, can I get off please?”

“This isn’t your stop, son,” the older gent laughed. “Your ticket says—”

“Please.”

The driver frowned at him as he fumbled for the button to open the door, and Shikamaru shot him a thankful look as he hurried off the bus and into the rain. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and chewed on his bottom lip as each freezing cold droplet smacked him in the face. Moments ago fingering the lighter in his pocket was calming, a charm if you will, and yet in the last few minutes he’d felt like throwing it in every bin he sped past as he walked. He didn’t deserve it.

The little girl, he thought to himself. That little girl…

All these years he had been right: he really was too much of a coward to face a seven-year-old.

The old man was right—his stop was nowhere near here—and it was so wet he could barley function. And, worst of all, he was alone, and he knew himself too well—he’s had too many therapists—to deny that the one thing he couldn’t be was alone right now. But where was he? Almost nothing was familiar except for one huge tree he could see at the end of the street ahead—that tree was at the end of the road of her practice.

“No,” he told himself bitterly. “You can’t burden her with this. She isn’t your therapist anymore, asshole.”

But he had to! His entire body compelled him to, as though his mind wasn’t the boss of him anymore and it couldn’t decide when he took a step or whether he edged closer to the road’s edge. It was his gut that was in charge now—a complete anomaly in his boring, repetitive life—and it was going to drag him to Temari whether he wanted it to or not. Somehow, he knew what he needed. Screw enjoying the silence, and screw burdening his ex-therapist with all of his crap, she was also important to him; a friend at the very least.

If he had to choose the rush that came with seeing and listening to Temari, whether he told her the truth or not, or the inevitable feeling that would drown him if he went home and hid away in his room, the choice was obvious.

He’d drowned himself in his sorrows, or swallowed them down, too many times to count. It was his turn to be selfish.

Despite the cold his cheeks grew hot, a concoction of hot tears and embarrassment flooding them. He drew to a halt, his feet landing in a puddle. Each droplet of water pelted into his eyes, blinding him, and it forced him to look down. Just out of interest he checked the time, and it was only four-fifty. Shikamaru knew from experience that her last session lasted until five, and with any luck she would still be in that room; with an extra heap of luck on top of that, if he ran, he could make it there in ten minutes.

Then he simply had to hope that the fifteen pennies he had left in the pocket of his jeans was enough to convince the lady at reception to let him through to her.

~~~

Temari wasn’t ready for the door to fling open as she started packing her bag. And when she turned around to tell whoever it was that she would do whatever they wanted from her tomorrow, she definitely wasn’t prepared for this.

He stood before her, dripping from head to toe with windburned cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. Somehow he looked like he’d been chased, but by what she couldn’t even begin to imagine. For a moment she suspected Kankuro, but as she looked properly she could see the bloodshot nature of his eyes, and her heart began to pound faster and faster.

There was a puddle developing on the wooden floor he stood on underneath his boots, but he didn’t seem to care. Chest expanding and contracting rapidly, Shikamaru flashed her an impossibly believable smile and couldn’t take his eyes off of her, as if his life depended on it.

For all she knew about him, maybe it did.

“Shikamaru?” she gasped, immediately dropping her bag into her desk chair. “What’s wrong—what’re you doing here?”

He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes, wiping some of the water away.

“You’re soaking wet!”

“I’m fine,” he sighed, throwing his sopping wet coat off onto the couch with a thud. Even his awful flowery uniform was stuck to him and despite the desire to stare below his neck, Temari watched his eyes closely. “Busy day?”

“Yeah…I was, er, just going home,” she stumbled, trying not to smile and ending up gaping.  Something was wrong here; she couldn’t forget that. “You can’t be here, you know?”

“I know.”

“They know you’re not my patient anymore. How on earth did you get in here?”

He bit on his lip, unwinding his scarf from around his neck; ten shades darker from the rain. He looked like he’d been crying, but she didn’t know if that was just the rain. “I said it was urgent and the lady at reception said she was just about to go home. I don’t think she could be bothered to stop me.”

Temari still couldn’t close her mouth. “What the hell are you doing here?” Quickly she sped towards him and put her hands on his shoulders. “You aren’t feeling really low again, are you? If you are you’ve got to tell me.”

He shook his head, but it didn’t hide the red around his eyes. “I thought I was,” he lied, “but to be honest I just wanted to see you.”

“I said I’d see you on Saturday.”

“Saturday isn’t now.” He blushed as one of his hands held hers against his shoulder as he turned his head, looking out of the window. “Can we shut that?”

“Why?” Temari grew a little rigid and stepped backwards, never taking her gaze from him. Carefully she pulled the binds down and cocked her head to one side.. “You’re not paranoid now, too, are you?”

Shikamaru’s face contorted into the most wonderful smile she had ever seen. “Temari?”

“Yeah?” Her cheeks flushed, just knowing he had a smile like that for her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It was as though, in a matter of seconds, his eyes changed and he sped towards her before she could think to say anything else. His hands captured her waist as he crashed his lips into hers, taking the spark that ignited in her eyes the closer he grew as his permission, and she did nothing but granted it. Temari’s arms flew around his neck and hooked themselves firmly in place. It was so full of rough, passionate urgency, especially on his part, that she barely noticed herself climbing onto her tip toes, desperate to be closer to him.

Neither of them, now that they’d felt it, could bear to lose the genuine, harsh passion and stack of feelings this brought. Stopping wasn’t an option—neither did they want it to be.

Temari weaved her fingers through the edge of his hairline until her composure began to vanish, and she started to tug gently on tiny handfuls. She could feel herself melting at his every time his hands traced up and down hers sides gently, from the top of her torso to her lower hip. His fingertips lingered at her hips, almost but never quite hooking underneath the waistband of her skirt on their way.

The more she pulled at his hair and absentmindedly ground her hipbones against him, the more the need for her grew inside him. Without thinking he let his hands run down her thighs and lifted her, and to his surprise her long legs tightened around his waist.

Suddenly could feel it all at once—all of him and the desire that had been building for so long in full force, and her heart pounded faster in her chest with the same want that rampaged through his eyes.

“Put me on the table,” she commanded through the kisses. “Right fucking now.”

Without hesitation, Shikamaru did as he was told and immediately his thumb teased open the top button of her blouse.

“You’re a tease, Nara,” she whispered, her hands shamelessly pulling at the collar of his shirt.

“I try to be.”

“Shut up and take my damn shirt off, flower boy.”

In seconds the buttons were undone and her shirt at their feet, and the sudden hit of cold air felt like nothing under his hot breath. Shikamaru followed in hot pursuit, undoing only a few buttons before throwing the ghastly floral shirt to the ground.

As stared at what he was luck enough to have before him, Shikamaru’s heartbeat quickened. He felt almost like he was going to faint as she grabbed his shoulders in her soft hands, her cheeks growing redder by the second from the heat and anticipation. The darkness of the room didn’t matter; the little light from the lamplight was enough to illuminate her for him, and the radiance that shone from behind her eyes stopped him dead for a moment. He began retrace his steps, even more delicately touching her sides than before, lingering longer on her lower abdomen and ribs than she last remembered.

Although, it easily could’ve been her impatience taking hold of her once more.

“Tem, can—”

“Don’t,” interrupted Temari, her impatience and lust driving her body. “Don’t you dare—just do it.”

He reached round back and fiddled with the clasp of her bra, desperate to dispose of the cloth that blocked what his hands desired, all the while too greedy to break their kiss again. Shikamaru couldn’t help it. He wanted every breathe to be taken with her, touching her, holding her close. As he finally set free the clasp and threw the final garment to the floor, he pressed himself right against the table, feeling Temari’s arms tighten around his neck as one of his hands finally took hold of what it wanted.

“How’s this,” he mumbled into their kiss, “for unethical?”

Temari didn’t even bother humouring him with an answer, simply unhooking her arms from his neck and letting them travel down his chest as he chewed on her lip, fighting back gentle moaned. She could feel his body relax and quiver the lower her fingertips grazed, and the broken breaths he took were too much for her to handle. Reluctantly he let her lip loose from his teeth and Temari let out a soft hum.

And with that she just let him. She let his hands roam, his lips pepper her jawline until she pushed him down her neck. She allowed his fingertips to pull at the hem on her skirt, ride it up and push her back. With every movement he made, she felt important. In no way was this the slow and sensual situation she’d mulled over in her mind last night, full of kind words and affection—it didn’t need to be. It was raw, it was real and it was them, exactly how she wanted it to be.

Never in his life had Shikamaru wanted something so much—someone so much—as when he pulled away from the kisses he placed across her abdomen to look down at her on that table. And when she sat up and her hands tore through the fastener of his jeans, he, too, had no objection. Nor could he object when her legs flew around his waist once again and he felt at once her exact feelings.

Temari couldn’t handle the way his breath danced against her neck, and how his deep moans fluttered to her ear. Even how his hair fell free and caressed her bare skin drove her crazier with every motion he made.

And Shikamaru certainly couldn’t take the way she said his name, almost silently, or the way her fingernails scratched at his back desperately.

It was like nothing either of them had felt before. They didn’t need to go slow, and they didn’t need to rush. As they continued, scaling higher and higher toward their moments of ecstasy, neither of them even patient enough to fully undress, the pair felt liberated. A weight of frustration finally reaching the point at which it could drop, crash, and release it’s havoc upon the both of them. And they were not going to stop it.

Over this desk they had spoken for the very first time, and now over this desk they explored one another in the way they had so hungrily hoped for, over and over and over again…

~~~

Shikamaru’s knees quivered as he buried his face in her neck, the both of them grinning ear to ear as they struggled for breath. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his now, the gentler touch of her fingertips weaving through his hairline, and he pulled back to look into her eyes.

Blushing, Temari felt somewhat starstruck, and cupped his cheeks with her hands, now sheer with sweat rather than the depressing layer of rain and tears he’d walked in wearing. Her forehead pressed against his and she found herself giggling, adjusting her position on the table, closer to the edge. Even now—no, especially now—she felt compelled to be as close to him as she possibly could, and Shikamaru didn’t seem to object.

As he smiled, he zipped up his jeans and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, chuckling softly. Much to her dismay he left the table and grabbed her blouse, throwing it her way before shuffling back towards her. Examining her scruffy hair and the red marks that littered her collarbones made his eyes narrow, lips shifting into a smirk.

“Pleased with yourself, flower boy?” mused Temari, blushing as she rushed to cover her torso.

He shrugged, reached for her hips and pulling them toward him off of the table. “You could say that.”

“I thought you said you’d never had a girlfriend.”

“I haven’t,” he sighed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh. Right.” Her tone of bitter jealousy was remarkable—it took all his strength not to laugh. “Well, you unfortunately do.”

“Unfortunately?”

Temari replicated his mischievous grin and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m kidding.”

“Of course you are.” He returned the kiss. “You really are so fucking beautiful.”

“I know,” she giggled, her hands flush against his bare chest, and Shikamaru couldn’t help but take a step back, smiling.

He leaned down to grab his sopping wet uniform and groaned, his whole body whizzing with the adrenaline. From the way his top lip curved she knew whatever followed would be accidentally condescending, and yet waited until his mouth was open, ready to speak, to butt in by shuffling off of her desk.

“I’m glad you came,” she said feebly, doing up the final few buttons of her blouse and adjusting her skirt.

“As am I.”

Temari nodded. “I didn’t really want to wait until Saturday for you to kiss me again.”

“Neither did I.”

Oh, the little smile on his face; why was it so stupidly perfect?

As he stood, watching her hair flutter and her curves sway as she strolled closer to him, straight into his arms, Shikamaru couldn’t ignore how stunning the woman before him truly way. Of course he already knew that—since he’d stepped through the door he’d thought it was perfectly clear that’s how he viewed her—but as she looked up into his eyes he knew it was more than that.

There was only so much you could dwell on someone’s physical beauty until it grew a bore—Shikamaru knew that from every week-long crush he’d had at school—and here stood his perfect example of a woman, whose eyes dug deep into him and urged him to be himself. With her, he felt calmer, and until she pulled him closer and buried her face into his bare neck, Shikamaru had forgotten all about his ordeal before arriving as though her presence wiped his memory. But now, as her fingers traced patterns on his skin, something compelled him, urged him to be honest with her.

She knew he was down, he could tell, and he hardly wanted to lie to her face.

“Tem?”

She hummed gently into his collarbone.

“I saw her today. On the bus.”

“Who?”

“Kurenai, and her daughter.” He took a deep breath and it rushed out, staggered. “She recognised me.”

“Did you speak to her?”

With a shake of his head, a humourless laugh escaped his throat. “Yeah, right. As if I’ve got the guts to do that.”

“What do you think she thinks of you? Surely you don’t think she hates you, Shikamaru.”

He grunted, burying his face in his hair. “I can’t say I’m itching to talk about it, Temari.”

“You brought it up.”

“I know,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I just thought I’d tell you.”

“You don’t have to feel obliged to tell me everything anymore.”

“I don’t feel obliged. I want to.”

Slowly Temari pulled away so she was at arms distance from him. Her lips curved up into a sad smile. “Then you’ve got to be open.” She watched as his eyes grew narrower and sadder by the second and she took his hands, squeezing them gently. He was so handsome; it was a shame he was burdened by such sadness. “We don’t have to talk about it right now,” she added.”

Shikamaru looked grateful and squeezed her hands in return in three short bursts before letting go, reaching up to fix his hair back into a slightly less messy ponytail. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“But you’ve got to remember something,” said Temari, biting on her lip as she walked back to the—now violated—desk to find her phone. “You’ve got to love, or—at the very least—accept yourself in here…” She pointed at her temple. “Nothing will come easily until then.”

She could see in his eyes that he was ready to pick apart what she meant like that, but Temari wasn’t ready to answer any questions. She herself wasn’t sure what she meant by that, and sadly she knew she wouldn’t have an answer to him if he did part his lips any say anything to her.  The way she felt about him was so complex, and he was generally so confusing, that she wasn’t able to peg it down even in her own mind. No words could describe the jumble of want, admiration and pity that swelled when she looked into his dark eyes or that pensive expression. After what they’d just done what was she meant to say? She adored him, undeniably, but she wasn’t sure that was what was good for him.

Maybe, for now, keeping that quiet would be the best thing for him.

“Put your shirt on,” she mumbled before he could speak, forcing a smile. “I’ll call you a cab.”

#here you go #the long awaited and underwhelming table scene #hope its okay.... #shikatema #nara shikamaru #temari #shikamaru #nara #au #modern au #alternative universe #fanfic #shikamaru x temari #fic #fanfiction #love #development #mental health #support #kurenai yuhi #mirai #sarutobi #ino yamanaka

[babygirlgalitzine]

For the AU prompt request... maybe try a flower shop AU for Robron? I like the 1st one under that section, but whatever your muse decides will be amazing!

lets watch theflowers grow

It wasn’t his career aspiration when he was growing up, butRobert owned a successful flower business, selling flowers for all occasions,making up bouquets and even hosting events to teach people all about themeanings of different flowers.

He enjoyed it though – the peace and serenity of being ableto make bouquets for people, hearing all the stories as customers came and toldhim who they were buying flowers for and why.

Most people who ventured into the shop were middle-aged toold women, admiring all the different variations of flowers, pressing theirrosy noses to the colourful petals and closing their eyes as they allowedthemselves to succumb to the fresh smell. Robert couldn’t help but smile andthink, I did that, whenever ithappened.

In terms of Robert’s typical sort of customer, Aaron Dinglewas the complete opposite. A gruff bloke who Robert swore didn’t wear anycolour other than black and the occasional white, he often frequented theflower shop, sticking out like a sore thumb.

That’s not to say Robert didn’t enjoy seeing him.

Mum

The bell atop the door rang as he walked in, and Robert, whowas sat at the till with a pencil balanced on the crevice between his ear andtemple looked up and smiled at the stranger. Nothing wrong with a friendlysmile, he did it to all his customers to make them at ease in the relaxingshop. He didn’t realise how different he was to Robert’s usual clients until hewas forced to look up again, intrigued.

There he was, this gorgeousman, with muscles peeking through his work clothes, baggy navy overalls, chestprominent in a thin white shirt, although dirtied with grime and grease. Asmuch as Robert loved to sit and admire the view, the man didn’t particularlylook comfortable trying to find whatever it was he was looking for.

“Can I help you?” Robert asked, his customer service voicein full swing.

Aaron looked up, smiled ever so slightly and nodded. “Cheersmate.” He said, watching as Robert walked around from the back of the till. “I haven’tthe foggiest about any of this.”

“I gather you’re looking for flowers?” Robert asked, smileon his face. He waited for Aaron to nod, and then spoke again. “Great. So,girlfriend…wife?”

At that, Aaron flushed pink, and if Robert was a romantic,he would liken the blush to a soft pink hyacinth – joyful. “Oh no I’m not – Imean – its for my mum. She’s had a rough week and I just wanted to surpriseher.”

He smiled at that, and suddenly Robert couldn’t help butmiss his own mum, wishing that he could have shown her his successes. Robertextended his arm and led Aaron to the roses section, carefully grabbing a pale pinkrose, showing it to Aaron. “I can make up a bouquet for you? Pink roses,especially this shade, signify appreciation and gratitude. It could be perfectfor her.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.” Aaron responded, feelingslightly more at ease than he was when he initially walked into the shop. “Doyou like working here?”

Robert looked up and nodded, hands occupied by trimming thelong stems of the flowers and arranging them neatly. “Well I should do really.I own the place.”

He clearly hadn’t expected that, with his eyebrows raising.“It’s nice.” Aaron breathed out. “Relaxing. Better than working at the familygarage, looking into bonnets for eight hours a day.”

“I had a hunch this wasn’t a fashion statement.” Robertjoked, eyes scanning Aaron’s body. “Still, at least you look good in it.”

It was a fly away comment, Aaron blushing again, Robertwanting the ground to swallow him up, but not before he finished arranging theroses and handing it over to Aaron.

Apologises (butmaybe just an excuse to see the cute boy in the flower shop again)

Something about notfixing the car entirely, he’d claimed. Hiscousin, also part-owner of the garage he worked at, hadn’t been the happiestperson in the world to see that Aaron had half-arsed his job fixing her car.

It was over three weeks since he last stepped foot inRobert’s flower shop, although seeing it every time he drove into town, wishinghe had an excuse to go in. He was about a day away from making up some familymembers birthday, just so he could go and spend twenty minutes in the companyof Robert again, not that he’d admit it.

His mind was on other things, people, and he’d told Debbie he’d finished on her car, but hehadn’t – not really. Still, at least now he could go and buy her some flowersas an apology.

“Violet hyacinth.” Robert said, holding one out to Aaron’snose. “It represents asking for forgiveness.”

“Smells like lavender.” Aaron commented, scrunching his noseup as Robert pulled it away.

“You’re learning. But yeah, it’s one of the most fragrantflowers.” Robert commented, turning his body to Aaron and collecting a few moreof the same flower.

He trimmed the stems, and wrapped a ribbon around them,going into his drawer and finding a card with an ‘I’m sorry’ printed on in swirly writing.

Aaron looked around, putting his hands in his jean pockets,black jumper sleeves all bunched up at his fist. “My mum loved the roses by theway.”

Robert looked up, eyes wide and lips slightly apart, likehe’d been focusing for too long and Aaron took him away from thatconcentration. His cheeks flushed, and the blue of his eyes contrasted so muchthat they suddenly got even brighter, almost an aqua blue that could be likenedto the sea somewhere hot. “I’m glad. Roses are always appreciated.”

He handed over the new bouquet and it was all Aaron couldsmell once it was close to his face. “I hope your cousin appreciates these justas much. Hopefully then you won’t get sacked.”

 Home

“You came all this way, wasted petrol, for a cacti?” Robertasked, couldn’t help but laugh.

Aaron leaned next to the counter, his arms jokingly foldedagainst his chest, lip pouting ever so slightly. “Your customer service leavesa lot to be desired, you know Robert?”

Robert rolled his eyes and chuckled again. Neither of themknew how they’d gotten to this stage, all teasing and like old friends as Aaronpopped around every once in a while. “Anyway, you’re in luck because I actuallyhave some.”

“There we go! Finally getting an answer.” Aaron smirked.

And there it was. The smile that, for the last seven weeks,Robert had wished he got to see every time the bell indicating a new customerchimed.  

“Who’s it for this time? Someone you want to call a prick?”Robert asked, walking into the back to find one.

“For myself.” Aaron admitted. “I wanted a house plant andthought I’d be better getting something that can’t be killed easy.”

Robert’s eyes went wide as he realised that Aaron was one ofthose people that didn’t take care of his plants. In fairness, Robert didn’treally expect Aaron to have plants anyway.

“I never asked. How did you get into flowers?” Aaron asked.

Robert walked back in, sitting opposite Aaron on the otherside of the till counter. He wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, swirlingit a few times in his hands, watching it slosh around in the ceramic. “I don’treally know. Like, I grew up on a farm so I guess nature surrounded methroughout my childhood, but I got money and the woman who owned this shopbefore me was retiring, so I bought it off her. Couldn’t bring myself to changeit from a flower shop, so I went on courses to find out the meanings and how toarrange them, and here I am today.”

“You should show me sometime.” Aaron aimlessly commented,shyness in his voice.

“How to arrange flowers?” Robert asked. “I’d like that.”

You

The bell chimed and Robert could hear the familiar footstepsof Aaron tapping towards him. He smiled to himself, his head down looking atthe books as he wrote down what quantity of each flower he needed to order.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t know flowers Aaron, youdefinitely seem to buy a lot.” Robert teased, finally looking up.

Aaron just rolled his eyes, a smile spread on his lips. “Atleast I’m keeping you in business.”

“Ouch.” Robert chuckled, putting his pen down on the tableand standing up.

Suddenly, Aaron was nervous, realising why he was there.Still, he didn’t show his nerves, and let Robert get on with his job.

“Can I get a mix of flowers for this bouquet?” He asked,brain ticking through the three flowers he’d tried so hard to memorise, andtheir meanings.

“Course you can.” Robert said. “Who’s it for this time?”

He just shrugged his shoulders, trying so hard to keep hisemotions at bay.  “Just some bloke Ilike. Thought I’d get him some flowers, see how he reacts.”

And with that, Robert was deflated. Like, visibly. Hisshoulders fell and so did his smile, thinking that he definitely had no chancewith Aaron now he liked someone else. He quickly recovered, asking Aaron whatflowers he wanted.

Aaron, well he just smiled when Robert faced away from him,knowing that his plan was working.

“Can I have amaryllis, for splendid beauty-” Aaron asked,and Robert quickly turned his head, shock on his face.

“You learnt meanings? It must serious.” Robert admitted,proud of Aaron for taking the time to learn at least some meanings, butslightly more than annoyed because of this unknown man that Aaron did it for.

Aaron just smiled, and carried on speaking. “Them somecarnations, for pride and admiration.” Robert nodded, and picked up some redcarnations, but didn’t mention that Aaron forgot the colour. Luckily Robertknew. “And daffodils; unrequited love.”

“That all?” Robert asked, taking bundles of each flower overto the counter to arrange them neatly in a bouquet. It was for Aaron, it had tobe nothing but perfection.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Aaron said, all shy and nervous.

Robert worked on cutting the stems and putting them into abox, wrapping blue ribbons around the white box and handed Aaron a blank card.“To put a message on.”

Aaron nodded, stole a pen from Robert and wrote on the cardin his neatest handwriting, none of the scribble that he used in the books at thegarage. He made sure it could actually be deciphered. He put it into theflowers, balanced between a daffodil and amaryllis.

“Here you go.” Robert said, handing the bouquet over toAaron. “I hope he likes it. And you.”

Aaron thanked him and looked at it for a few seconds, beforebiting his lip and handing it back over to Robert. “Do you like it?”

“What?”

“Do you like it?” Aaron asked. “Simple enough question.”

Robert nodded, not entirely sure what was going on. “Yeah,it’s lovely.”

“Good, because it’s for you.” He admitted, voice a whisperand husky, like he was almost scared of telling Robert.

He looked into Aaron’s eyes, confusion on his face. “Me? Youlike me?”

“Come on, its not that difficult to believe. Why d’you thinkI kept coming back? The cactus was a low point for me.”  Aaron laughed, walking forward to standdirectly in front of Robert.

Their eyes connected, Robert blushing, and Aaron suddenlygetting all flushed too. Robert moved forward, in an attempt to give himselfmore confidence, and Aaron’s eyes flickered down to concentrate on his lips,before looking back up and meeting his eyes. With that, Robert took it asinitiative and pressed his lips to Aaron’s, both of them shy and unsure what todo, but enjoying it nonetheless. It was innocent, at first. A kiss of relief,knowing finally that they both felt the same way. Then Aaron’s hands came up totouch Robert’s cheeks, and Robert’s hand cupped the back of Aaron’s neck,fingers carding through his short hair.

“I like you too.” Robert confirmed, pulling away for only afew seconds before Aaron whined and pulled him in to prolong the kiss.

#robron #aaron x robert #myfic #prompt #saras-almanac

[tindomielsilverthorn]

Tension and Release Part 4

The final chapter of this section! A Collaboration with @devsash 

The previous chapter (Part 3) Find a link list here of all the Chapters of the (Iasea Storyline!)

Leaving the Cathedral Steps

She chuckled lightly at the sensation. "They tingle." Once on level ground, she steadied a bit. "You can check on Anas this way as well. Whew...I don't know how Sutrakarre does this. He won't eat at all. Says the fasting helps.” "Hmm." Mehe glanced at his tendrils. "If you're feeling steady enough, I'll let go.” "I think I am. Those are very handy." She turned to the right and started towards the Mage Quarter. "Thank you for helping me.” "You're welcome." His tendrils slipped free of her arm. "I admit I still forget about them a lot.” "Still a new thing for you I would imagine. Do you have any control over them?" She asked, genuinely curious. He nodded. "When I focus, yes.” "And they react to your emotions. Interesting." She turned towards the tunnel, holding out a hand to steady herself along the wall. "Among other things," he said. His tendrils reached out again to help steady her. "Elune..." she whispered. "I didn't think I was this weak.” Mehe stepped closer, wrapping his arm around her waist to help her. "It's okay. We're almost there.” She offered him a weary smile. "I have never had to deal with so many injuries before. What they did… killing her would have been much faster. They meant to be cruel." She forced herself to keep moving. Mehe's tendrils curled around her shoulders and wrist as he walked slowly, bracing her as best as he could. "I'm sorry. Why did they go after her?” "You remember I said that Eliân let someone live, believing she was innocent?" He nodded. His eyes glanced around watchfully, scanning the passers by. She lowered her voice, "Her House was responsible for the torture and subsequent murder of Lilybeth's mother. The Matriarch of the House was my adoptive daughter's birth mother. She pimped out my daughter for political favors. When Lilybeth's mother was killed, Forosuul ordered everyone involved eliminated.” He pondered this. "Which means someone was spared by your... assassin.” She nodded. "She went through, on very limited time and got the people out who had no apparent ties to the events. She couldn't find any connection to Iasea. So she drugged her and stuck her on a boat to Pandaria. And then killed everyone else, save the Matriarch. Forosuul took care of her.” "So this Iasea is behind the attack." Mehe glanced up at her grimly. "Are you certain it's still safe for Anas to be in the shop?” "She is after the family. She has targeted Alsabe, her once sister. The note that was tied to Kalimè's hand said ‘You will learn what it feels like.’ I do not think the Anas is in any real danger." She paused a moment as her feet found the grass. "Niqi would have been a target to get to Ælithil.” He nodded. "Is it safe for you to be out here then?” "Probably not. But the family needs to eat. Someone had to go. The others are standing guard over the ones who cannot fight. Like Niqi and Kali. Anyone trying to enter will pay dearly if they do not have word from a family member. It's why I gave Anas the feather.” "Right." He glanced at the door to the tavern. "We're almost there.” "Oh thank Elune." She stumbled up the ramp, nodding to one of the tables close by. "I need to sit down.” He helped her into a chair. "I'll get your tea," he said, his tendrils uncurling from her. She nodded dully and put her head down on the table. Mehe stepped inside briskly, calling for the server. Tindomiel fumbled into a pocket and retrieved a small piece of paper with a list of food items. She put it down on the table along with a handful of coins. He emerged moments later, the server behind him. "You want anything to eat?" the Ren'dorei asked. "Just get this stuff… for the family..." she mumbled. "I'm fine.” Mehe picked the list up, glancing over it briefly before handing it along with the coins to the server. "A cup of white tea and a few muffins for the lady as well," he said. Tindo lifted her head up, frowning. "I didn't ask for muffins." She sighed. "I just needed some tea to wake me up.” He shook his head. "Muffins," he repeated firmly. "Three of them." The server nodded before returning inside. “Mehe...” She pursed her lips. “That is not necessary.” He sat down. "I'm not about to let you bloody fall over here if I can help it.” “From that tone, I am going to assume this is not up for debate.” She chuckled a little. "It isn't." He leaned back. "I was harsh with you earlier. I'm sorry.” Tindo smiled gently. “It was a stressful situation. The fact that you see it, makes all the difference. Apology accepted, Mehe.” He nodded, his tendrils curling idly over his arm. She leaned against the stone wall, letting the chair and the building support her. “Anas seemed to be in good spirits when he came out. I hope that means everything went well.” "I'd assume so. He looked better than when he went in, at least.” “Good,” she sighed. “I admit, I am glad Anas came with you. I am not sure I could have handled much more of Niquisse’s fear. It’s part of why I was glad to go get the food.” "Anas was really worried about her," he said. "I've never seen him use his powers within Stormwind.” Her eyes went wide. “He used his powers?” He nodded. "He doesn't do it very often.” “To stop Eliân?” She seemed surprised. "Yes." Mehe peered at her solemnly. “He really cares about Niquisse, doesn’t he?” "He does." He smiled. "He thinks of her as a little sister." “She called him her brother. I’d never heard her say that before. But when she was crying, she kept saying she wanted her brother. It took us a little while to realize who she meant.” "Hmm. Seems it was mutual then." He glanced up as the server arrived with a tray laden with food. She set it down before looking expectantly at Mehe. The Ren'dorei man fished out a few silver and copper coins, handing it to her. "Thank you." Turning back, he pushed the cup of tea and the plate of muffins towards Tindo. "Help yourself.” Tindo picked up the tea cup and breathed in the aroma. She closed her eyes as she took a sip. “Hmmmmm,” was the only thing heard as she wrapped both hands around the beverage. Mehe watched her reaction without comment. "How long has it been since you last ate?" he asked instead. “I have no idea,” she answered sleepily. “I haven’t even thought about it.” "Hmm. Well, eat up." He waved at the muffins. She chuckled a little. “You’re not going to let up, are you?” She selected what appeared to be a berry muffin and broke off a piece, popping it into her mouth. "Not until you get some food in you." He glanced around at the other patrons, scanning them carefully. "What are you looking for?" she asked before taking another bite. “I like being aware of my surroundings," he said evenly. "You do it all the time. Almost like you are expecting something to happen." She took a few more bites of the muffin. She picked up another and tore off a piece. He shrugged. "Can't hurt to be prepared." "Hmmm." She picked up her tea and took another long sip. "How's the tea?" he asked. “It’s quite good. Would you like to try it?” She held the cup out to him with a smile. He shook his head. "All for you," he said. He tried to raise his hand, only to blink at the tendrils curling over his arm. He loosened them before flicking one of them over his shoulder. Tindomiel laughed for the first time in days. She bit down on it and flushed. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” Mehe peered at her askance. "What's so funny?" “I’m sorry. The look on your face when you were tangled up… forgive me, Mehe. It seems that I am incapable of maintaining some decorum.” She stifled a giggle before taking another sip. "Hmm." He glanced at the food in the paper bags. "Can you carry all that back?" “Only one way to figure it out,” she shrugged. "I'll help you if you like," he offered. “That is very nice of you. Thank you.” She sat up and pushed her chair back. Taking a final sip of tea, she stood slowly. "Ready to go back?" He stood as well. “I have to. I have a whole infirmary suite full of people to look after.” She took a deep breath before gathering up several of the bags. Mehe helped gather the rest. He carefully picked up a few with his tendrils as well. "Let's go." Looking over, she tried unsuccessfully not to giggle. “You are making me think I need some of those.... oh… wait.” She closed her eyes for a moment and four thin tendrils sprouted from the backs of her shoulders. She  let them reach out and each take a bag. He offered her a small smile. "Convenient." “Hey, I can adapt.” She chuckled a little. “Thank you, Mehe.” "You're welcome." He nodded towards the path. "Shall we?" “Yes.” She started along. “Mehe, can we talk about Sutrakarre?” Keeping pace with her, he arched an eyebrow. "What about that malanore?” “I know he stepped in at a bad moment. But I can tell you that that man cares about one thing. Helping people. Everyone he can. If he stepped in, it’s because he thought something worse was going to happen.” She tried to keep her tone gentle and reassuring. "Hmm." Mehe pursed his lips. "He's bloody deluded though." “He’s actually a good counselor and someone I trust to care for my family. He misread you in the heat of the moment. But he also made sure that no one was hurt.” She offered her words carefully, trying to keep things calm. Mehe's eyes flashed. "By letting that woman throw a dagger at Anas and get away with it?" “Were either of you hurt?” "She could've hurt him. Wasn't that the point of her little demonstration?" “Yes. And she was showing you that she was choosing not to. And Sutrakarre knows her well enough to know that she wouldn’t.” She sighed. “You and Eliân were at the point of pushing each other to a bad place. He stopped it. He kept everyone safe.” "Hmm." Noticing a passing rabbit, he stepped carefully out of its path. She smiled at the movement, noting his kindness that showed in little ways. “I am just saying, please do not judge him poorly for a difficult situation.” "Look, Tindo. He can do or say whatever the hell he wants. I really don't care as long as Anas comes to no harm," he said. One of his tendrils carefully adjusted its hold on the paper bag in its grasp. “Fair enough. I just don’t want there to be bad feelings in the future.” He shrugged, glancing around idly. "I won't unless he does something that warrants it. Though I'm surprised he lasted this long in the Army of the Light with his damn 'trust people you've never met before' shtick. Bloody hell, I'm surprised he's even alive at all." “Sometimes, my friend, it is the right choice,” she encouraged lightly. He threw her an incredulous look. "It makes no sense." She chuckled. “You’re right. But that doesn’t make it any less true. Sometimes we find friends in unexpected places.” She frowned as they reached the tunnel, her bare feet finding stone again. "Something bothering you?" he asked, noticing her frown. “Setting foot on the stones means leaving the grass. That probably sounds silly.” She shook her head. The motion made her stumble and she reached out to grab the wall. In a smooth motion, Mehe's tendril dropped the paper bag atop the rest in his arms before whipping out, latching onto her arm. “I’m all right...I’m all right.” She closed her eyes and stopped. “Shaking my head made me a little dizzy. I’m ok now. Thank you.” "You need to get some rest," he said, his brow furrowing. "I will, as soon as we are safe at the fortress. Tomorrow, mostly likely." He nodded though his expression remained unconvinced. “I can’t right now. Not until my niece has been moved and the family is secure.” She looked at him. “Would you do any less for Anas?” "I'd be of no use exhausted and unable to defend him," he pointed out. At that, she seemed to crumble a bit. “I don’t… it feels wrong. It’s not right, that I should rest when others need me.” "Think of it this way. If you push yourself too hard, you'll collapse. Then they'll have to look after you as well as your niece," he said seriously. "It's better for you and them if you take care of yourself." “I will consider it.” She straightened herself and gestured to continue. “It won’t be much longer before we all leave.” He nodded, his tendril releasing her arm. The sinuous limb retrieved the paper bag it had been holding before he continued on towards the Cathedral. She moved beside him, sighing. “You are a good man, Mehe. Even if you don’t let people see it all the time.” "Hmm," came the reply. “Why are you so indifferent to that?” "Good, bad. It's all relative." He shrugged. “I suppose it is.” She smiled slightly. “What do you consider Anas to be?” "Oh, definitely a good man," he said with a smile. "And why do you consider him a good man, but not yourself?" "I'm not him," he said simply. "No. You aren't. But do you think Anas is a bad judge of character?" she asked softly, prodding a little without pushing too hard. "He trusts very easily. Sometimes to his detriment." “I would say that we are all guilty of that. But it doesn’t change our nature.” "Perhaps," he allowed. "Which is why I'm there to watch his back." “So if you are there, to protect a good man, does it not follow that you are also a good man?” He chuckled. "Perhaps," he repeated noncommittally. "It doesn't matter how anyone chooses to see me." “You are a curious one, Mehe. But I like you.” He raised an eyebrow at that but made no comment. Walking slowly, the tendrils sprouting from her back twisted around. Their length seemed to shift several times, almost imperceptible at first. “I am very sorry you got dragged into this mess, Mehe. Here I thought things were peaceful and I could simply make a friend.” "It's not your fault," he said, watching her tendrils. As they left the tunnel and entered the Cathedral district, one of the tendrils started to flicker out, the bag slipping from its grip. She managed to catch it with her arm with a heavy sigh. “Well, I had enough energy to do that for a little while.” "Try not to strain yourself too much," he said, concern in his pale blue eyes. “We are almost there. I will find a place to sit for a while. I know Niquisse was curled up in a corner for a while. Maybe I can do the same.”  She tipped her head to the side. “Mehe? Don’t worry too much. I’ll be all right.” He nodded again before glancing up at the Cathedral. "I'd help you carry these inside, but I don't think your family would appreciate it.” “Unfortunately, not right now. But if we can figure out a way to smooth things out, I would love it.” She adjusted the bags she had into one arm and reached out for the rest. He held them out to her one at a time. "Can you manage?" She offered him a gentle smile. “I think so.” She arranged them as best she could, until everything was settled. “Thank you, Mehe. For all of your help today. And for trying to look after our Niquisse.” He nodded. "I'll take my leave. Shorel'aran, Tindo. Be safe." She inclined her head to him. “Elune be with you, Mehe. Please give Anas my love.” She took a breath before beginning to climb the long steps to the Cathedral door. He watched her for a moment before turning and heading back towards the Mage Quarter.

#World of Warcraft #world of warcraft rp #wow rp character blogs #Tindomiel Silverthorn #Meheaaris #priest #Rogue #night elf #kaldorei #void elf #ren'dorei #WRA RP #wra roleplay #Wyrmrest Accord #wyrmrest rp #Wyrmrest roleplay #writing collab #thehouseofsilverthorn #House of Silverthorn #The House of Silverthorn #iasea storyline

[nomoregraydays]

Under The Stars (G.D. Fanfic) - Part 9 Archery and Shopping

POV: First person 

Word Count: 2,787

A/N: I know that this is not their parents’ names, I just didn’t know them nor feel like looking them up. 

****

“Hey babe, I have a semi-serious slash important question to ask you.”

“Mmmhm?” I looked away from my laptop to give him a look to proceed on.

He fiddled with his phone in his hands and finally took a deep breath. “Would you want to come back to Jersey with E and I? Meet our parents, we can eat good food, go dirt biking, four wheeling, all that.”

Obviously, he needed a lot of encouragement to ask me this, and part of me wanted to say no, but I couldn’t do that. I mean, I guess we are at that part of our relationship where I should meet his parents and see where he grew up.

I gave him a smile. “I’d love to do that.”

***

“Why the fuck did I agree to meet your parents?” I let out a deep breath.

Ethan was snickering from the back seat as per usual. “Cause you wove Grayson Bailey Dolan.” He babied.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up. That may be true.. I just… What if the parents don’t like me?”

Grayson looked back at Ethan and they started to share a similar laugh.

“What?”

“I don’t think either of them will dislike you. My dad may actually want to take you out to the shooting range. That’s his way to get to know someone. My mom… she’ll probably want to go shopping or crafting, that’s her detecting strengths.”

I cocked a brow. “You’re kidding, right? The only guns I’ve ever shot are a pistol and a bb gun. Shopping and crafting.. I’ve mostly got covered.”

Ethan was suddenly in the middle section between Gray and I. “There’s archery too. He’ll probably ask which you prefer. Doesn’t matter which one you choose.”

I hunched over, bringing my knees to my chest, and I made some sort of dying dinosaur sound. Then I stayed there, trying to think of what to do, and pull myself together; it's just how I work.

“Is she okay?”

After a couple seconds, I went back to sitting normally and let out a deep breath. “I’m fine. It’s gonna be fine. If your dad asks, we’ll do archery. It’s been a few years, but it's better than the other. If your mom asks for shopping or crafting, no problem.”

Chanelle now popped up from the backseat. “Dude, I don’t know why you’re being crazy about meeting their parents.”

I huffed lightly. “Really? You don’t? You’re not dating one of their sons.” But she wishes she was.

Her cheeks flushed. “Oh, right.”

Grayson and Ethan exchanged clueless looks, then Grayson looked at me and I shot him a look, switching my eyes to Ethan. These boys can be so horrible with picking up on signals. I’m shocked Ethan doesn’t know Chanelle has feelings for him; though she’s actually pretty good at keeping her cool.

“Do you think your parents will ask me to do that stuff with them?” Chanelle asked as Grayson pulled off onto a dirt road between the walls of trees.

“Uh..” Ethan started, then closed his mouth with a puzzling look. “My mom might, I mean just as a girls day out or something?”

I couldn’t help snorting. “That should be fun. Chanelle, if she asks, please go with.”

“Okay.” She sighed.

I smiled as we all unbuckled and stepped out of the Bronco. I felt my knees wobble a little though and then one locked. I huffed as I kept walking to pop it and sort of limped to the trunk to grab my duffel and backpack from Grayson.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Concern was etched his face.

“My knee locked. It’s fine.” I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and when I pulled away he was giving me a look. I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, I’ll be fine. Just gotta walk it off. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He didn’t say anything else as we all headed inside to their childhood home. I… How am I moving right now? I feel like I’ve stopped, yet my surroundings keep changing as I walk through different areas in the house. It was more spacious than I was expecting to be honest. What should I have expected? Nothing I ever think is actually reality; most of the time anyways.

A women came into the living room, her brunette hair swaying perfectly as she walked over to her sons for hugs and kisses. Then a tall, broad shouldered man came into the living from what seemed may have been the garage? Okay, I can see how Grayson, Ethan, and Cameron are all attractive. Their parents must’ve been some goals couple, still probably are.

A breath hitched in my throat as both of them looked at me, their mom with brown eyes and dad with blue and friendly smiles were on their lips.

“Hi there.” Her voice was so light, airy compared to the boys, or even Cameron’s. Though, I haven’t actually met Cameron in person yet.

Their dad was upclose in my face now. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Yes. Sorry, I’m Kat.” I reached my hand out to shake, but now I was given some weird looks.

Their dad chuckled and tugged me in for a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Freddie.”

“Agreed. I’m Laura.” I looked her and could see she was ready for a hug as well.

I was not expecting this reaction. They’re not at all worried about the age difference? Or do they know? I’m just not going to mention it right now.

“Well, the feeling is mutual.” I laughed lightly. “You have a lovely home, from what I’ve seen so far.”

Laura snorted, batting a hand. “Yeah, just wait another hour or so when these two are let loose.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing as Grayson and Ethan came in with groaning protests; I could tell Chanelle was trying not to laugh too.

Freddie and Laura looked at Chanelle now.

“You are?” Freddie prompted.

“A friend of the boys, and Kat. I’m Chanelle.”

Laura gave her a bright smile. “Welcome Chanelle. It's nice to meet you too.”

“Yes. Glad you could make it out too.” Freddie added.

“Thank you.” Chanelle mumbled back, seeming slightly embarrassed; not at all what I was expecting.

“Let us show you to the guest room and you can get settled.” Laura prompted and started to walk away.

“Uh, mom.. thought Kat would stay in my room.”

A slow smirk crossed on Freddie’s face. “Adda boy. That's okay, Kat can stay with you in your room.”

A snort escaped me before I could stop it and I covered my mouth and nose with one hand, but continued to laugh. I cleared my throat finally, “Sorry, sorry.”

Grayson seemed a bit off as we entered his room and he shut the door. He threw his backpack onto his bed and went into the connecting bathroom that Ethan also had access to through a different door; that should be interesting.

“Gray, what's wrong?” I approached the open doorway and rested my head on the siding.

“I…My dad is my dad, but when he made his comment, why did you laugh? Believe it or not, my parents don't know everything that goes on in our relationship. So he didn't know that we didn't have sex yet.”

“Whoa, whoa. Lemme get this straight, you're upset that I basically told your parents we weren't sexually active?”

“Well… my dad, at least.”

I rolled my eyes with a small scoff. Then I sighed lightly as I saw his actual emotions seeping through. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his torso from behind. “Gray... if your dad has ever made you feel bad about not gettin it right away, then fuck him. It's our relationship and we're not ready.”

He sighed heavily and turned around to look at me as he leaned against the counter. “I know… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you because of this personal problem between my dad and I. I'm really sorry.”

I reached up to brush back the fringe that’s growing out. “Babe, you can talk to me about these things anytime. Don't let it build up, and yes, definitely don't snap at me because of it. I forgive you, and always will cause I love you.”

My heart nearly stopped for a moment, then sped up. The words flowed from my lips so easily though, but maybe that's what scares me a little. And I have no idea if he feels that for me yet.

A hint of terror and shock crossed his face, but then a quirky smile spread on his lips. “I love you too.” He dipped his head down to kiss me, slowly, and I smiled.

Not really how I saw saying our first “I love you” going, but it was still wonderful. I'm immensely happy, and I think Gray is too.

***

“So, Kat, what did you say your major was?” Freddie loaded up his blue and orange arrow before stringing back and letting it go at the target; it was nearly a dead center hit.

Clearly, Grayson did not give him much information on me and he was trying to get more of a read; including my age. Well, this is probably going to get worse.

I strung my own red and black arrow with a slight struggle, but then raised my bow to pull it back. I focused as much as I could and tried to not show any shakiness. I let the arrow go, it whipping past my face a little, and it landed on the third ring in; not terrible.

It's really been a while. I sort of forgot the physical strength that goes into archery; it's not easy to master, I only learned from years of girl scouts and other camps.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, I hadn't said yet. My major was creative writing and my minor was graphic design.”

He looked at me a little dumbfounded and he cocked a brow. “You're graduated? You only work now?”

“Yes, I’m a script editor down in LA, Chanelle works there as a screenwriter. I'm twenty-one. Twenty-two in October.” I decided to add it on before he'd ask. It was going to be the follow up question, I know it.

“Huh.” He strung another arrow and made his aim; he hit dead center this time. “Look, I don't mind the age difference. I like the fact you've got a full-time job, you support yourself and you're not taking advantage of Grayson in that way.”

“I never would. Really, I never ask Gray to pay or buy anything for me.”

“Good.” He, now, distracted himself again with shooting. “Cause I know if you were to ask, he'd do or get anything for you. Hell, this kid would probably take a bullet for you. That's the kind of person he is.”  

I was a bit stunned and his words hit hard. I cleared my throat. “I know… but I would never ask him to do that.”

Freddie stopped, lowering his bow and arrow, and he looked me dead in the eyes. “I don't think you get it. I know you'd never ask him to, no one would, but he'd do it anyway cause he loves you.”

I swallowed hard. I don’t want to think about Grayson taking a bullet for me or doing anything like that; even though I know his dad’s words were true.

“I'm not exactly sure what you want me to say right now.. I do understand. I don't want him to take a bullet for me. I'd probably push him out of the way and let the bullet hit me cause I love him. I don’t need or want anyone taking their life for me.”

Freddie had still been looking me straight in the eyes, but now he looked away. “Good.” He went back to hit a bullseye and didn’t utter another word.

Part of me was relieved and I went back to doing my archery as well. I think his dad likes me alright, as long as there is no bad air I think I’m good.

***

The air felt more easy as Chanelle, Laura, and I walked through the decent sized mall they had. I think it’s because Chanelle was there, their mom seems more chill, and we’re in a mall.

My eyes set on the Adidas store up ahead and I knew I was in trouble. If you asked me a few years ago if I’d ever shop there, my answer would’ve been Hell no. But times changes, and their shoes are cute and comfy; sort of becoming an aesthetic of mine.

“Would you like to go there? You seem to have that love at first sight look going.” Laura commented with a small laugh.

I looked at Chanelle and she shrugged. “Up to you, my dude.”

I noted the Vans store that was across the way from us. “We could go there next?”

“Sounds good.” She replied as she walked into the Adidas store.

I guess we’re going in.

Laura seemed to stay close as we browsed, though she was silent. Now, though, she stopped and picked up a red, dry-fit style tee that had the three stripes logo on the left side of the chest.

“This would be good for Grayson.” She mumbled.

I cleared my throat. “It would be. Red is a good color for him.. And the style of it would be good for his workouts.”

A smile spread on her lips. “You’re right.”

I was about to offer to pay for it all or part of it, but I think as his mom she’d like to buy it. I pointed to the black on in the same style. “That one would work for Ethan.”

“Thanks. I know there would be a riot if I came home with only a shirt for Grayson. So pricey though..”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I suggested, “I could buy Grayson’s.. You can still say it’s from you.”

I think I may have just unlocked her loving me more mode as she pulled me into a hug. “Freddie told me about the age difference and everything, but I don’t care. I am so happy Grayson has found you.”

I laughed under my breath. “I’m really glad to be with him, really he’s… he’s perfect in every way and I feel completed when he’s around. Like.. I could be in a bad mood and if he comes around I feel better no matter what.”

As she pulled back, she was wiping away at underneath her eyes. “I’m ecstatic to hear you say that. He deserves a girl like you, and Ethan… he should man up and ask that Chanelle out.”

I busted out a laugh. “Wait, did he tell you he likes likes her?” Wow, I felt like I threw myself back into middle school with that ‘likes likes’ phrase; cringe.

“No.” She scoffed lightly, “But moms know their sons. Does she like him?”

I snorted now. “That’s a joke.” Laura looked at me a bit confused. I shook my head. “Yes, she does. A lot, actually.”

A sort of evil look came about Laura’s eyes and I shot her a look.

“What’re you thinking?”

“To get one of the two to ask the other out.”

I really had to bite my tongue to not laugh out loud obnoxiously. “I think Gray mentioned we were all going dirt biking and four wheeling tomorrow, maybe I could convince one of them to ask the other out officially?”

“She does seem like a great girl, and Ethan seems smitten. If you could try, that would be helpful.”

“I’d be a pleasure to help meddling those two together. The tension is getting ridiculous.”

Laura took my hand in hers and started walking us towards the cash register. “This is the beginning of a beautiful bond, Kat.”

“I’m glad.”

I pulled my card out to pay for the red shirt for Grayson and then handed the black bag to Laura. “Here you go.”

I looked around for Chanelle, only to realize she was sitting on one of the benches outside of the store, waiting for us. I approached her with a slight sheepish look. “Sorry, we were deciding on some shirts for the boys.”

“They’ll love them, I think.” Laura added on.

Chanelle jumped up from the bench. “It’s all good. Now, let’s find me some cute ass Vans to show off.”

Yeah, to show off to Ethan. Laura and I exchanged looks after Chanelle had her back to us and we laughed under our breaths as we followed her.

Next: Dirt Dirt (Part 10)

#Grayson Dolan #Grayson Dolan fanfic #Grayson Dolan fluff #Grayson Dolan Imagine #Dolan twins #Dolan twins fanfic #Ethan Dolan #Ethan Dolan fanfic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Grayson Dolan fanfiction #Ethan Dolan fanfiction #Dolan twins fanfiction #Under The Stars #Archery and Shopping #Meeting the parents #Going to their home

[chickeninthewoods]

2004 films

| The Bachelor | Tuesday, Dec. 28, 2004 (late-nite) | Pulled from the pile of purchased DVDs at the folks'... to great disappointment. This is a bad, bad film, and Chris O'Donnell truly sucks. Phoned-it-in sucks. This explains why he hasn't worked much in the last 5 years - which was a bit of a mystery up until now. Avoid this like the plague.

| Spanglish | Dec. 27, 2004 (afternoon) |

| Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban | Sunday, Dec. 26, 2004 (late-nite) | Dark and long. The kids are growing up, and the films are, as well. I think my mom is borrowing this from my sister. She has all three, unfortunately mostly in fullscreen.

| Snow Falling on Cedars | Sunday, Dec. 26, 2004 (late-nite) | Fantastic and incredibly sad. This was pulled from the stack of purchased DVDs at my parents' house over xmas vacation (who knows why they buy what they buy).

| Rivers and Tides | Saturday, Dec. 25, 2004 (afternoon, w/ the 'rents) | A gorgeous, nearly-meditative study of the work of Andrew Goldsworthy, who creates sculptural installations in and from nature.

| Seabiscuit | Saturday, Dec. 25, 2004 (w/ the 'rents) | Oddly-paced, but exciting. A book moved to the screen doesn't always work well, though, for the reasons well-illustrated here. The historical snippets might have worked well as chapter introductions, but they make for a confusing set of transitions on screen.

| De-Lovely | Friday, Dec. 24, 2004 (evening) | A mess of a film, though pretty and entertaining. But maybe that was intentional. Porter's life was a mess, albeit an entertaining one.

| Before Sunset | Wednesday, Dec. 22, 2004 (late-nite) | I had planned to watch this on the plane to Indy, but after watching the original last night, I couldn't help popping this one in today before my trip. I'm frustrated as hell by it, and the sudden ending, but I guess that's the reality part.

| Before Sunrise | Tuesday, Dec. 21, 2004 (late-nite) | Luminous, like Julie Delpy's skin.

| 24: Season 3 | Week of Dec. 17, 2004 | My current policy is to review television series all at once, rather than a disc at a time, but I wanted to begin by noting that this season does not start out well. The tech is particularly bad, and I don't really care about what happens next.

| The Door in the Floor | Saturday, Dec. 18, 2004 | A little less dark than I thought it might be, and more tangible. I haven't read any Roth, ever, and now I'm prompted to start. I'll have to rent it again to watch the commentary and featurettes -- I'm fascinated by writer/screenwriter collaborations, and the adaptation process (so long as the writers can also talk).

| The King of Comedy | Wednesday, Dec. 15, 2004 | I think it's not possible to watch a film on the recommendation of someone who says its their favorite. I just don't have much to say about it.

| Jersey Girl | Tuesday, Dec. 14, 2004 (afternoon) | Ooh, this was cute! 13 Going on 30 cute, 3 Men and a Baby cute. The kid was great, and the Sweeney Todd bit was cute even in its un-cute-ness. A definite recommendation for parents and families who want to see a decent movie.

| A Home at the End of the World | Thursday, Dec. 9, 2004 | I'll admit, I rented this for the much-anticipated kiss between Colin Farrell and Dallas Roberts. It wouldn't have been worth waiting for, if that's all there was to this film. But all the things I disliked about marginally similar films, I liked about this. Where Forrest Gump was nearly campy, this was understated and honest. Where the Myth of Fingerprints was sarcastic, this was lacking all irony. At the same time, where Big Eden was celebratory and fantastical, this was pretty raw. So I don't know exactly how I feel, but I'm glad I saw it.

| Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind | Saturday, Dec. 4, 2004 (afternoon) | Reviews were generally positive, but I had received a recommendation against watching it just a few days prior. I enjoyed it, and would certainly keep it out of the "never again" bin, though it probably won't end up on a best list. As other reviewers noted, its the emotional core that saves this film from a bad sort of quirky, and I did appreciate that. But I felt it didn't go far enough exploring the morality of doing such a bizarre and radical thing. I would have preferred a "what if" movie with a love/life story running through it, to a love/life story with lots of other stuff piled around it. Jim Carrey didn't annoy me, though, and that's a rarity. Kate Winslet is yummy.

| Capturing the Friedmans | Nov. 27, 2004 (afternoon) | Truly one of the most amazing films, ever. While working on a short film about children's pary clowns in NYC, the filmmaker happened upon an extraordinary story of a family caught in an avalanche of molestation charges and media frenzy in the mid-1980s. The film includes footage shot by family members during the time of the arrests and court proceedings, as well as present-day interviews with police and other persons involved. If netflixing, be sure to get Disc 2 as well, as there are hours of additional footage and follow-up interviews with the filmmakers.

| Maze | Nov. 1, 2004 (afternoon) | This scared me off initially, fearing it was a Rob Morrow vanity piece, but then I forged ahead on faith in Laura Linney. And I wasn't disappointed -- the film is quite lovely, surprisingly nuanced, and I forgive Rob Morrow his salary whining in the 90s (Janine Turner, however, is getting her just desserts in dry-eye commercials)

| Ghost World | October 25, 2004 | I held off on seeing this when it was playing at York Sq., but it was fun on dvd. Scarlett and Thora bring so much to the table.

| The Apprentice, Season 1 (all discs) | Oct. 20, 2004 | Addicted to S2, thought S1 might be good. Soapy fun.

| Seeing Other People | Oct. 20, 2004 | Julianne Nicholson is always great, but the movie wasn't my favorite. Vulgar and ultimately a little boring.

| Dopamine | Sunday, Oct. 10, 2004 | I like Sabrina Lloyd, and the story here was interesting, but I didn't ever really latch on to anything in this picture. There was so much unexpected darkness, maybe that pushed me away. | Normal | Friday, Oct. 1, 2004 | I was so skeptical... but this was handled with about as much grace and dignity as I could ever have imagined.

| Uptown Girls | Sunday, Sept. 19, 2004 | Decent fluffy entertainment.

| Dinner for Five: Season 1, Disc 1 | Sunday, Sept. 12, 2004 | Never as interesting as it promised.

| High Art | Saturday, Sept. 11, 2004 | Not as hot on the most recent viewing, but I'm sensing the ambition element more clearly each time I see it.

| Alias, Season 2 (all discs) | Week of Sept. 6, 2004 |

| Tuck Everlasting | Sunday, Sept. 5, 2004 |

Alexis is a wonder, and I'm so glad she has a spot on the WB for a while.

| Charlotte Sometimes | Sometime in September, 2004? |

| 13 Going on 30 | Wednesday, Aug. 11, 2004 | I watched this on the plane, BDL>>DTW, and finished in the wrap place in terminal B. Cute, cute, cute entertaining fluff.

| Mona Lisa Smile | Monday, Aug. 9, 2004 | I don't know why I haven't returned this yet; it was good, though not in the Wonder Boys-kind of way I had hoped. Not much new to say, though it was interesting to watch how the juxtaposition of super-smart-capable and wanna-be-housewifey played out

| Watching You | Friday, July 30, 2004 | This was a set of short films, all lesbian-themed in some way. I got it because I was looking for a short called "travelling companion," which had been on another set of shorts on VHS a few years ago. The quality of gay-themed cinema has come so far in the last few years, though. My favorite ("10 rules") was actually in the "extras" section, though I wasn't sure exactly why there was that division. The title short, "Watching You," was set in Israel (??), though that never was mentioned explicitly.

| The Cucumber Incident | Monday, July 27, 2004 | This was an indie (so indie it's not even in IMDB yet) documentary, viewed on the Sundance Channel's DOCday. It tells the story of a group of three women in a family who basically raped and beat the husband of one of the women, who had been molesting his daughters. It's complicated and awful -- the wife who let her husband back in the house after he'd been to prison for molesting her older daughter, the child protection system which didn't intervene after subsequent charges (and let him back in the house after his imprisonment), the complicated revenge / scare tactics they exacted, and the overwhelming weight of the justice system that fell on them as a result. Everything about this is awful, and though I never felt like we really got to the heart of the women's fury as they prepared to terrorize this guy, that may be as much a result of midwestern stoicism as it is a comment on the film's ability to draw out their story.

| A Mighty Wind | Saturday, July 24, 2004 | I've watched this more than once now - I don't know why, but it's silly and entertaining and even ok musically.

| Travelling Companion | Tuesday, July 20, 2004 | I watched this on an interminable train ride from New Haven to Boston, when the train literally broke down in the middle of rural Rhode Island. Nice.

| Casa de los Babys | Monday, July 12, 2004 | I may need to give this another look before I comment too much. I rented this while my sister was visiting, and I'm not sure we finished it.

| Along Came Polly | Sunday, July 11, 2004 | B+

| Girl With a Pearl Earring | Sunday, July 4, 2004 | Watched this at T's up in New Hampshire -- it was a lovely portrait, and a really creative and daring way to make a film about a painting.

| Dead Like Me (entire first season) | July, 2004 | So bummed I don't get Showtime anymore... rent the dvds if you get the chance, it's almost as good as Six Feet Under (the first year of SFU)SHO

| Things You Can Tell Just by Looking At Her | Wednesday, June 30, 2004 | I watched this in the car, driving from my parents' house in Michigan down to visit my sister in Indianapolis. It's not a bad car-movie (if such a category exists), except that I did get a tad claustrophobic at one intense point. I really thought I had seen this before, but I had only vague moments of deja vu as I watched it. The women were just amazing -- Glenn Close, Callista Flockhart, Amy Brenneman, Cameron Diaz (and more) -- but I was particularly amazed by Callista Flockhart. I don't think it's reasonable to question her talent after watching her work in this film -- something so far from Ally McBeal, so different and difficult. The movie is a set of one-acts, each focusing on a different character. The supporting characters in each act are extremely sparse, though there's a bit of connection woven throughout the film, between the characters. It's important to understand that they're living in the same time, the same world. Glenn Close is an Ob/Gyn with real emotional maturity and intimacy issues; Cameron Diaz is a relatively well-adjusted blind girl whose sister (Amy Brenneman) is taking a backseat; Holly Hunter is a successful, albeit lonely bank officer who reels at the pointed analysis of a homeless woman who buns her cigarettes; and Callista Flockhart is a woman tending to her dying lover (Valeria Golino). There's also a piece with Kathy Baker who infantilizes her new short-statured neighbor, but I found it really odd and jarring compared with the rest.

| Raising Victor Vargas | Tuesday, June 29, 2004 | Watched on the plane from Detroit to Hartford -- though I think I'll want to see it again when I can hear and concentrate better. This would make a great double-feature with "Real Women Have Curves", for the sheer heart of both

| The Banger Sisters | Sunday, June 27, 2004 | Watched mostly on the plane between Hartford and Detroit, and finished up at my parents' house in Michigan -- this was a fun little showcase for a variety of veteran and newcomer talent. Goldie Hawn's butt really is amazing, Susan Sarandon proves she can give up scenery-chewing for Lent, and Eva and Erika somehow manage to look like sisters (though moreso if their parents were Susan and Goldie...)

| Nobody's Baby | Monday, June 14, 2004 | Caught this one on Showtime, found by the Tivo's Radha Mitchell wishlist. I'm not sure what Radha's doing playing these desert waitresses (e.g., When Strangers Appear), but this one wasn't bad. A little anachronistic, maybe, but not awful.SHO

| All the Real Girls | Saturday, June 12, 2004 | Though I really like some of the actors, I just didn't find this movie that compelling. It was slow, and maybe would have been better if I had seen it on the right kind of day (e.g., long, slow, cold and weathery).

| Trembling Before G-d | Saturday, June 12, 2004 |

| Purity | Saturday, June 12, 2004 | I watched this nearly in a double-feature with Trembling Before G-d, and it was so stunning. Clearly bitter and biased, but stunning.

| Saved | Friday, June 11, 2004 | Saw this Heathers-in-a-Christian-High-School in the theatre, opening weekend. Not terribly crowded, which was surprising. The movie was just delightful; funny and interesting and terribly attentive to the details, which was important. It's fun to see someone like Mandy Moore play a character this deliciously saccharine, too. Go see.Orange

| Marathon | Thursday, June 10, 2004 | Caught on the Sundance channel -- and couldn't tear myself away. It's a faux-documentary of a girl who does an annual 24-hour crossword puzzle marathon in NYC -- mostly on noisy subways and buses. The dialogue is minimal, the plot is pretty much nonexistent, and yet its riveting to watch, for some reason. It's one of the few times watching a film where I felt like I was in that zone of a conversation where I was truly getting to know someone.

| Out of Season | Sunday, June 6, 2004 | A surprisingly ok new grrl movie, which is unusual. And since I wasn't expecting anything at all, I was a very thrilled little camper. This definitely goes on the recommendations list, maybe even above 'Go Fish' (though after 'Get Real').| Soldier's Girl | Friday, June 4, 2004 | A really wrenching look at the story of a particular casualty of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell" (pre-"Don't Pursue," I think). I don't know how close to the truth this story was, but I'm not sure it matters. It was beautiful.

| The Company | Wednesday, June 3, 2004 | I've been dying to see this ever since it came out, but I was a bit disappointed. While the dancing was just out of this world, I had trouble adjusting to all the jumps between performance and slice-of-life/rehearsals and story. I think that was intentional, but it just didn't work for me. I love the Joffrey, though, and it was worth the time spent just to watch them dance. Neve included. While I'm usually the first to scrunch up my nose at something that appears to be a vanity piece, this is most certainly not one of those times. No one hires Altman to do a vanity piece, for starters. For an Altman-esque look inside the ballet, this is what you want. But I still prefer Center Stage for the energy of the dance world (as soapy as it can be).

| xx/xy | Tuesday, June 1, 2004 | I wasn't sure what to make of this -- it sounded too much like that other film with Kathleen Robertson in a menage a trois -- but with Mark Ruffalo, I wanted to give it a shot. It was interesting for the blurriness and for the look at a particular kind of person's behavior in a relationship, but I didn't love it.