#and there was a bunch of skull decor right next to these that looked pretty cool too

[shvdowsdrowned]

Can you tell what side of Illinois I'm in? 😭😭

#i still cannot tell if those handcuffs are copaganda or kink 💀💀💀 #anyways. im glad im moving closer to chicago next year 😮‍💨 #i miss my old hometown sm i cant wait till we're back 😭😭 #the pocket knife was pretty cool though. couldnt open it bc it was sealed but it looked nice aldjskdks #and there was a bunch of skull decor right next to these that looked pretty cool too #this gas station is like 5 mins from my house and it was the first time i went inside 💀💀💀

[ughgoaway]

Absolutely loved the fic. I need a proper blurb of Annie doing Ross' hair

Ahh thank you, my love, I am still not loving it but im glad someone is enjoying it!!

And I am HAPPY to expand on Annie doing Ross’ hair. The amazing @alovesreading mentioned something similar in her tags once, and I always meant to do a blurb on it but completely forgot until now lol

So, as mentioned in the fic, Annie is obsessed with playing hairdresser. it all started when she saw Matty doing his hair before an award show and freaking out.

You and him are together at this point, so he facetimes you and tries to convince you to come over and help him. 

“Please baby, I know you can't come to the show tonight, but you aren't even gonna help your poor boyfriend fix his hair for the Brit Awards???” he says with a pout whilst pulling his curls and eyeing the gel on the sink. 

Before he can ever really consider it, your voice rings out of the phone, “NO GEL MATTY. I can see you eyeing it already.” he begins to whinge but you cut him off, “You look so pretty with your culrssss” You pout right back at him and see matty’s face immediately crumble, and his cheeks get slightly red. He's still not used to being called pretty by you, he fucking adores it.

You get Annie to hold the phone behind his head and direct her to move certain curls and twist pieces of hair and she loves it, especially when the the end you say “Thank you for your help, Annie! You should be your daddys hairdresser. You do a much better job than me.”

And Annie takes that and RUNS with it.

Matty is a pushover attentive father, so he buys her everything she could possibly want; hair clips, butterfly clips, hair ties with bows and figures on them, headbands, little bows: anything she needs- she has.

So it's inevitable when she comes into the studio next she practically pounces on Ross and his long hair. But to be honest, he was really asking for it by wearing it down when she came in. “ROSS!!! Will you let me play hairdresser??? I want to make your hair pretty!!”

Ross has to try not to read too much into the fact that she didn't think his hair was already pretty.

He has to be gentle when he lets her down, “Ah, Annie im not sure that's a good idea pumpkin i-” he avoids making eye contact for a few seconds but as soon as he looks at her wide eyes and shaky lip he fucking crumbles. 

“Oh alright then” he says, and Annie squeals and runs over. 

“Mate she got you good,” Matty says, laughing, but Adam quickly shuts him up,

“Didn't she get you to wear your hair bows to Tesco last week?”

“... shut up Hann”

/////

Ross is on the floor, and Annie is standing on the sofa behind him because she's too small to reach his head if she stands on the floor. She begins grabbing all her stuff and putting it on the sofa, and Ross shoots Matty a scared look at the number of things she has. He simply shrugs, smiles, and walks away. Ross is on his own as far as he is concerned. 

She pulls pieces of hair back and pins them with glittery butterfly clips, digging them into his head a little too hard and almost denting his skull (not really, but Jesus she’s heavy-handed) She grabs bunches of hair and puts them in small ponytails, each hair bobble has a little decoration on it. 

She stands on his lap to look at the front of his hair, and Ross has to hold her steady because he's shaking her by laughing.

“Uncle Ross, stop laughing!! I can't get it right if you move” Annie complains looking at Ross with a grumpy look on her face. 

He can't help it, the way her eyes get laser-focused and her tongue slips out the side of her mouth looks exactly the same as when Matty is trying to think of a lyric or play a hard song. 

Once he pulls it together, Annie starts putting bows along his hairline along with hairclips and, of course, more butterfly clips. 

Peering in from the hallway are Matty, George, and Adam and they are all giggling to themselves at the pair, “oh Ross is trying so hard to be annoyed, but you can tell he loves the attention” George says. 

“Obviously, why else would he grow out his hair? He was sick of Matty being the hair guy of the band” Adam laughs at Matty's immediate scrunched face. 

“Hey! Im still the hair guy, okay, ross looks like bass-playing Jesus”

“You say that as if bass-playing Jesus isn't a sick idea,” George says, adam nods in agreement, and Matty grumbles.

“Well, im just glad it's not me anymore. I think if y/n found one more clip in my hair whilst she’s pulling on it, she’d dump me”

“... why is she pulling on your hair” Adam innocently asks, forgetting who his friend is for a few seconds.”

Matty immediately smirks, “Well Hann, when you're going down on a girl and it's really good, just before she cums she grabs your hair and-”

“OKAY MATTY YES I GET IT. god why did I even ask-” 

//////

Annie finishes 10 minutes later with a flourish, and Ross can't even pretend to be annoyed. He loves nothing more than spending time with Annie. She is everything to him. She feels like his niece or even his own daughter sometimes. He basically raised her in tandem with Matty, so their connection is undeniable.

He hangs out with her whenever he can, always offering to babysit on your date nights or to take her out on fun days. One of his favourite days of his entire life (aside from the day she was born, of course) was when he got to take her to the fair for a day. He bought everything she wanted, and by the end of the day, they were both crashed from the amount of sugar they had eaten. 

Annie insisted Ross wore his hair like that for the rest of the studio session, and he did.

Jamie walked in 2 hours later and looked at Ross questioningly but then saw Annie asleep on his lap on the sofa and nodded understandingly.

blurb masterlist

#ross let me do your hair #Annie would do a better job tbh #matty is sick of showering and seeing glitter going down the drain #hes spent a small fortune on hair accessories but how can he say no to his little girls happiness??? #anon! #teacher au!

[anatomic-adoration]

6/23/23

I made this blog with the intention of joining the studyblr community, but it doesn't hurt to throw some personal journaling in too.

It was warm today, sunny too, so I grabbed my most comfortable boots and headed out on one of my not so famous "adventures." It started off normal, of course, walking past the various bars and statues scattered throughout the college town. They were never my thing, but I've grown somewhat fond of the familiar territory. It's nice that there's plenty of things to use as landmarks since I can't find my way anywhere without a GPS. I gave the nose of the university's opossum mascot statue a rub for luck, then diverged from the sidewalk in favor of the "scenic" route.

It was peaceful, just enjoying the sunshine that peaked through the trees and climbing over rocks and run down fences. Rubbing the opossum's nose must've worked, because right by one of the fences was a dead bunny! The poor thing was half eaten and covered in those really pretty flies that have an iridescent green body. I took a picture and wished it a good afterlife. or reincarnation? or at least some peace in its eternal rest.

But none of that was new. The reason I felt the need to write this down is the woods spit me out right next to a bunch of cool stores I've never seen before. One of them was a coffee shop I'd never heard of, so I figured I'd give it a try.

The place was cooler than I could've imagined- alternative music was playing over the speakers, skull decor, and almost all the drinks had silly edgy names to match the aesthetic. I ordered a tea called "The Cure" (lemon, ginger, and just a hint of mint mixed together with some honey), then decided to do a little people watching while I waited for it to cool.

It was by no means crowded, but it was still fascinating to see that literally everyone there had an alternative look. There was an incredibly fun mixture of subcultures, but I found myself coming back again and again to this one punk looking guy there.

His hair was a grayish colour and he had a collection of piercings that complemented his jacket, which had a bunch of patches and some metal embellishments, including spikes. He was clearly pretty tall too; his chair looked tiny by comparison, and his legs didn't fit well under the table, leaving them pressed against the wood above them. Despite his obvious size and style, he still looked nervous to be there.

I know anyone can have anxiety, but there was something about seeing a man who would be labeled "trouble" by the average person being in such an uncomfortable state himself. I know it sounds mean, but the stark contrast was kind of amusing. I'd love to know how aware he is of the irony.

He noticed my staring, and I guess it made him uncomfortable because he rushed out pretty soon after catching on. As I drank my tea, I couldn't stop dwelling on the situation. I wish I could say I'm sorry; I never mean to stare for too long, but when something catches my eye it just... happens.

C'est la vie. I'll probably go back to the coffee shop again to try their other drinks, maybe a pastry too, so there's still a chance I'll see him again. Maybe I'll work up the nerve to apologize at this hypothetical next time.

Back to studying for the time being.

#journal entry 1 #it begins

[chelleztjs18]

Hello you mrs. honey nut cheerio lefty eyebag! 😌

I sent it last night haha my friends left around 1230 then I was up a bit longer just cleaning up. I think I finally went to sleep around 2 am. So right now I am tired, have a headache, hungry and cold lol

How are you today? Any fun plans for today or the week?

That sounds like a fun and crazy place to go to lol was it hard for the jello to come out of the syringe?

It reminds me of how I like to host parties. I always do like a theme and do creative stuff with the food and drinks. Like a couple years ago, for Halloween, I bought a bunch of skull shot glasses and did like an cherry schnapp drink. Then I made pigs in a blanket, but made it look like a mummy 😂

No, I haven't tried Korean cold noodles. Is that the one where you dip it in the broth? Yeah, the ramen place and sushi place I usually go to is at the food court in the mall. So they have just limited kinds of stuff. You know, I want to try hot pot and do Korean BBQ. But there is no place here in Omaha for that.

So when it's summer, do you just stay inside if it's really hot out? Or do you still do fun stuff like go to the lake or beach?

Ah I get what you mean then. That's not weird though haha I agree with you 😁 but then that's the hopeless romantic in me speaking 😅

Do you have any summer vacation plans?

-CuriousGeorge

Ah i see.. that was too bad. When u were up late, i fell asleep earlier 😅 if i stayed up i couldve accompany u through here while u were cleaning.😁

How r u feeling? R u feeling better?

What did u end up eating?

Im okay. Just tired n sleepy i dont know why. I dont have plans. I hv endless laundry to do 😅

Been trying to rearrange a bit of the living room n em's room so the big toys she got would fit without cluttering the house 😅 i actually feel claustrophobic right now with stuff all over the house, suitcases, laundry to fold. So im trying to make myself feel better.

This weekend, my husband's cousin might come visit, if not, maybe next weekend.

It was a fun place to go eat. The burger was pretty good. What's crazy is u can order up to 8 patties in the burger.. n if u weight over 250 or 300lb i think, u will eat free. Crazy.. what's irony is that restaurant is owned by a heart doctor.. the place is called heart attack grill or heart attack burger. (I forgot)

N yes the jello shot comes out of the syringe easily. 😁 n it tastes pretty strong.

Wow u sound creative decorating ur party. Would love to go to the party u have.😁

Yes some place serve cold noodle separated from the cold broth, some serve it in a cold broth but both get horseradish sauce in it or wasabi paste on the side that u can mix it in.

Ouuuuh hot pot and korean bbq is my favorite! I love them. Soupy ffood n grilled food r my favorite. Im not really a fan of fried food. I hope u can try them someday.

I mostly stay inside the house n let the ac on non stop.hahaha. i wont go out if i dont really have to. I dont like the heat nor getting tanned.🤣 i love the beach but not when it's really hot. 😅 i love how calm it is but when it's too hot, there r too many people n thats whn it makes me uncomfortable.

Ouh so u admit that u r hopeless romantic.. thats nice. I love romantic people, even though i dont think i am that romantic. But then again, like i told u, people who read my fluff thinks that im hopeless romantic 😁

We dont know yet. We plan either go on a cruise or florida or to Cali again for his birthday n his mom birthday so Em can spend time with her. N go to disneyland with his mom too.

I kinda told him the best decission would be go to cali so em can make core memories with her grandma. U?

Next question(s)

Cheerio!

#chellez answers #ask answered #anon answered #curious george anon

[prose-for-hire]

How ats characters would celebrate their s/o’s Birthday:

Characters include: Angel; Spike; Cordelia; Wesley; Fred; Lorne; Gunn; Doyle; Lindsey; Drusilla and Darla

A/N: Again, totally self-indulgent for my Birthday lol! They’re fluffy !! Hope you guys enjoy them, you can save them for your Birthdays or just enjoy them today !! 🖤💖

Angel:

- Money is no object

- Will ask what you wanna do

- Could literally be anything at all

- He has enough disposable income that you feasibly could do anything

- You insist that all you want is him though

- Not his money, just him

- You adore him

- And this assurance absolutely makes him melt

- All he ever wants is for you to be happy

- But he insists that you should mark the occasion

- So you suggest a party

- Just a small gathering with the team and some good music

- He grins, pressing a kiss to your lips

- He’s actually really excited

- He can get awkward at parties (and just in general)

- But he does enjoy them somewhat

- Especially since he began dating you

- Everything’s better with you

- And that’s why he wanted to celebrate your day properly

-  The hotel’s back and functioning

- And completely covered in decorations

- He appeared to have raided the entire party store

- Every occasion seemed to be represented lol

- Literally everything you could imagine stuck to the walls

- There’s even a balloon arch

- He clearly spent a really long time on it so you give him lots of kisses

- Which makes him almost blush

- He really cares and just wants you to feel good

- He would be by your side the entire time

- You would have a lot of fun

- Mostly just enjoys wrapping his arms around you

- And swaying slightly

- Whispering his love and happy birthdays

- The gift he gave you would be very meaningful and super romantic

- You would have melted right then and there

- You have a really great time, drinking and laughing

- You sit on his lap when you’re not being hauled up to dance with Cordy and Wes

- You even convince Angel to dance

- It’s equal parts dorky and adorable

- You definitely dance with him

Cordy:

- She would be so ridiculously excited

- For your birthday

- Like, ordering everyone around

- Making sure they get you the very best gifts

- And nobody is allowed to forget

- Or else

- She’s really pumped for you to be celebrated

- You’ll probably go to a bar the night before with all your friends

- Maybe Caritas if it’s up and running at the time

- (Cordy swings free drinks for you all)

- But the next day was your birthday

- You would wake up beside her

- It would honestly just be the best gift

- Just to have her this way

- You pull her into you

- Snuggling together

- Both of you sleeping off a hangover (Depending on how much/if you drank)

- Today, your actual birthday, was just for you and her

- Intimate in a way that she has always craved

- And with you she has

- Completely

- She has bought a lot of presents

- They can be assigned to two categories:

- Things you want and others that she insists you need

- All very well thought out and incredibly sweet

- She would be very cute and press lots of kisses to your lips

- Soft, sleepy kisses

- You spend a lot of the day in bed

- Just the two of you

- It’s honestly just perfect

- She wanted you to herself and you completely feel the same

- She’ll have rented movies, anything you like and you just spend it on the sofa

- Wrapped in blankets and each other

- Understated (yes, she can do understated)

- And yours

Lorne:

- The grandest plans

- You only deserved the best

- You always felt completely cherished with Lorne

- But he made sure to give you his undivided attention around your Birthday

- He wanted all the attention to be lavished upon you

- He could be so soft and so very insistent too

-He could tell you sometimes felt guilty about it but his nature made it so that he always made sure you were enjoying yourself

-  The most important thing was always that you felt good

- Caritas was basically a shrine to you

- He would source pictures of you growing up, fixing them up everywhere

- There would be themed drinks (from important points in your life)

- Not to mention the list of karaoke songs all evening were exclusively your favourites

- Absolutely no exceptions

- You would be showered in gifts

- Despite you telling him it really wasn’t necessary

- Especially if it’s one of your first birthdays with you both together

- Would go so far past overboard

- But he would be entirely too cute about it

- He would vibrate with excitement

- Waiting for you to open everything

- Just when you thought you were finished

- Another pile of presents would appear from nowhere

- All the affection too

- Through the entire day, would want to be close to you

-  Always does but especially so

- At the end of the day, would wrap you in his arms

- Already planning to outdo himself next year

Spike:

- The man is near obsessive over your birthday

- Consumes his thoughts the entire month, just like you do all of the time

- Won’t stop thinking about it

- Mentioning it

- He’s definitely more into it than you are

- He wants you to have something normal, human

- You have to have something special - he insists

- Wants to cherish you, the entire day would be yours

- You would make the decisions for the day

-  And then he would have something planned for the evening

- Will decide to take you for drinks

- But at a more high end place than he would usually take you

- Might even take you for a trip away, somewhere you used to go

- will steal Angel’s fanciest car

- he’ll take you somewhere that he knows you like

- maybe somewhere special to the both of you

- The evening will be nice, he’ll make you smile as always

- Might treat you to some human food

- A restaurant too if you like that kind of thing

- You always feel special with him

- But the evening won’t end there

- You’ll make your way back to the car

- But he’ll grab your hand with a smirk

- Dragging you in the opposite direction

- He has it all set up

- He paid off the security guard

- There are blankets and tiny little fairy lights

-  That he would have to turn off in a second, but he knew he would enjoy seeing your smile though

- He had wanted a big gesture

- Something from the movies

- Because that’s what your love was like

- Something more human but still intimate

- Just for you

- He would help you lie back, lying by your side

- Pulling you into him

- You would be stargazing as you nestled into him

- Pointing out constellations that he probably was naming completely wrong

- But you wouldn’t care because he had thought all of this up just for you

- You were happy just as long as you would be together

- He would make you laugh so hard

- And just make you feel so cherished and celebrated 😊

Wes:

- Would be so bashful about his plans

- Ridiculously anxious that you would be enjoying yourself

- That you would like whatever he came up with

- Absolutely head over heels for you

- Completely and utterly yours

- And so wants his plans to reflect this

- The gift he gives would be understated, but completely fitting

- He would be nervous to give it to you

- But once you begin gushing

- He would smile and chuckle in that way he does

- He wants to take you to a bar

- For drinks because you deserve to be celebrated

- The world’s always threatening to end

- So he wants you to have a day where it can just be you both

- Celebrating his absolute favourite person

- You ask him if he’ll dance with you

- He looks around a little embarrassed

- But he gets a burst of courage

- Takes your hand, leads you to the dancefloor

- You dance wildly, matching his moves and laughing

- A slow song started

- You loop your arms around his neck

- It was just the two of you

- For all you knew

- He whispered something

- Something he hadn’t said yet

-  “I love you”

- The sweetest, most meaningful Birthday gift

- You would press your lips to his

- Telling him just how much you appreciated this

- And he would smile into the kiss

- Chuckling slightly

- So ecstatic that you were enjoying yourself

- But you insist that it would only be with him

- He wraps his arms around you

- Leaning his head against yours

- You dance slowly in the middle of the room

- Eyes closed

- It was pure bliss

- You love each other so much

Drusilla:

- She would pull out every stop

- An extravagant event

- In your honour

- Everything would have to be just so

- Or she would start cracking skulls

- Would attempt to make it a sweet surprise

- But would begin to murmur about it one evening

- As she held you close

- You would be very used to interpreting her words

- And so realise

- But not tell her so not to upset her

- Either way it would be beautiful

- just before the day, she brings you a bunch of flowers

- they’re night blooming

- and they look a little dead

- but you of course adore them

- The night of your birthday was so pretty, she says it’s because it belongs to you

- Your night

-The event would be filled with gifts and people you vaguely knew and liked

- She would ensure you were the centre of attention

- As you were already the centre of her world

- She would smile, laying such adoring affections on you

- Her hands entwined with you

- Would be by your side for the entire day

- Soft gestures of physical affection as you both enjoyed the celebration

- Always touching you

- Would definitely have several gifts for you

- Definitely a birthday tarot reading

- You tell her that you don’t need a future reading, you see yourself with her

- For eternity

- She would adore this and get very excited

- Lots and lots of love

- And probably several trinkets

- She probably found these trinkets by purposefully targeting the owners

- And taking them for you

- (A for effort, isn’t she the sweetest? Always thinking of you)

Gunn:

-  He would be a man with a plan

- It may not be pulled off exactly as planned

- But he would have had the idea in advance

- Very caring for a s/o

- Can get wrapped up in a relationship

- Which is lucky for you

- He adores you

- Absolutely worships you

- (just as you do for him ofc)

- He gets up early, ready to set everything up

- But gets instantly interrupted

- You roll over and wake up

- He can’t resist you

- Gets caught out and slides back into bed

- Holds you for a while and you cuddle up to him

- Long story short…

- You spend most of the day in bed

- Long into the afternoon

- Which, he finds a lot better than he could have planned anyway

- He tried to get away at first but by noon he just couldn’t tear himself away

- He holds you close

- Telling you how lucky he feels to have you

- And that he wants everything to be good

- He’ll singlehandedly stop an apocalypse for you

- He insists nothing’s gonna stop celebrating your day

- But you pull him back into bed again

- Pressing kisses against him

- Insisting he’s the only gift you could ever want

- But when he presents his actual gift you of course take it

- He’s very in tune with you, always listens to what you like

- And so the gift is very thoughtful but also useful/something you will use

- Which leads to you peppering him in kisses and gushing

- Which makes him smile

- That one that makes him absolutely glow

- You’re still not quite sure what the plans were

- But they were easily cancelled, he sent a chain text and it was sorted

- he called for takeout instead

- your favourite of course

- it was simple but honestly you wouldn’t want it any other way

- just you and him

Darla:

- Probably would not have remembered

- Until you mentioned it

- Definitely isn’t used to birthday celebrations

- You had been through so much since then

- But once she realises

- Decides she wishes to dedicate the day to you

- She doesn’t show it often, but she can be so ridiculously soft for you

- The day would be intimate and just for the both of you

- She can be very possessive and wouldn’t want anyone else involved

- Anything you wanted she would get for you

- You name it, literally

- It’s yours

- She can take over entire shopping malls

- Hold up an evil law firm

- Make them do a spell or something for you

- She would lavish so much on you

- You could take your pick of anything and she would take your hand the entire day

- Such obvious affection is rare, but she does adore you

- Presses a single kiss against your temple

- With that sweet, knowing smile

- Her eyes would always be on you

- You would feel loved just by her gaze

- She truly stopped everything just to celebrate you

- Evil plots on pause, won’t even talk to Wolfram and Hart

- If that’s what you wish

- She doesn’t like to admit how much you mean to her

- But because it’s your birthday

- She would

- If she hasn’t already, she would love to sire you

- It would be a very romantic gift for her to offer

- As if she had brought you a dozen roses

- Making your death day and your birthday the same day

- She would see it as the best present she could give you

Lindsey:

- Doesn’t mention your birthday

- Always so busy at work

- You presume he’s forgotten

- And you don’t remind him

- You don’t mind

- (or I mean that’s what you tell yourself)

- But when the day rolls around you wake up

- And frown

- His work clothes are still out

- He hasn’t left today

- And someone’s in your kitchen?

- You go and see what’s going on and he’s made your favourite breakfast

- He looks at you as if you just brought the sun into the room

- A heavenly glow that only surrounded you

- You were the light in his life

- He loves so deeply, wants to cling onto this

- Wants you to know just how much he loves you

- By making this day just for you

- He chides you though cos he was trying to make breakfast in bed

- But you had woken up

- But you just wrap your arms around him and hug him close

- He pulls you in for a deep kiss

- Holding onto this moment

- Holding on to you

- He’s got a very rare day off

- And you don’t want to ask how much of his soul was sold off for the luxury

- The day’s completely yours

- You go out and do tourist-y stuff in LA

- You live there but never get a chance to do something just fun and normal

- So you go around and take cheesy pictures

- Try out different hotspots

- You have a really lovely meal at the end of the day too

- He’s comfortable, has money to blow on fancy meals

- But it means more because he appeared to have looked into the local menus and stuff

- Finding suggestions that he knew that you would like

- You go to a few bars that you really enjoy

- but he soon notices you want to go back home

- So you and he can celebrate without any prying eyes

- It was truly one of the best days, you felt so much closer

Fred:

- She would have forgotten about birthdays

- After Pylea

- But when you mentioned it casually

- She jumped into action

- Not just because it was probably only a few days away

- But because she loved you and wanted you happy

- Wouldn’t want to do anything too lavish

- It’s just not the way you both are together

- It would be something simple, but so very meaningful

- She would be so soft

- (I mean she is anyway, but this is a day celebrating you)

- And she loves you so much

- I think she’d take you for a little day out

-  A kind of adventure

- But one where you could relax plenty

- A day off from demons and one just for you?

- Perfection

- She would present you with a gift while you were out

- I think she would have made it herself I think

- Probably took a while

- But she enjoyed it so much

- Something clever and cute

- Like her

- She would blush if you made a big deal of thanking her

- But ultimately reciprocate any kisses

- She would probably cuddle up to you and ask what you would like to do that evening

- She apologises for not having grander plans but honestly her just being with you is the best

- And you ofc tell her this

- You settle for drinks at a bar you both like

- But you don’t stay long, mostly just wanting to spend time privately

- You grab some takeout on the way home

- And celebrate more intimately

- The glow of the tv, but neither of you will be watching

- Just the two of you

Doyle:

- He’d be buzzing with excitement

- You always treat him so good

- (he swears he doesn’t deserve it)

- So he makes sure that you feel the love

- Especially so because it’s your birthday

- He says you have plans for your birthday

- And you’re like ??

- That’s news to me lol

- But he absolutely won’t tell you

- And teases you about it in the weeks leading up

- His teasing smile is equal parts infuriating

- And cute

- He just wants you to enjoy yourself

- And this is part of it

- He’s sick of everything ruining your time together

- So he tries to bargain with the powers

- He just looks upwards and half-pleads for them not to bother him

- Just for your birthday weekend

- No visions, please

- Nothing he comes up with, in his own mind, will be good enough

- He wants to give you the world

- And he promises one day he will

- Does this through a cute little globe key chain

- Before giving you a few more gifts

- He truly listens to you and things you like

- Buys things through the year

- So that he has them

- Hiding them is hard

- He would have planned it all out, using his connections

- He’s bagged a weekend away for you both

- somewhere you’ve always wanted to go

- Somewhere really nice, super upmarket

- Not something you’re used to after living in LA so long

- You have the best time

- He honestly makes you feel like the only person in the world

- He’s just so sweet

-  Literally would drop anything for his s/o

- To make sure you’re enjoying yourself and happy

- It was just perfect

- You’re already planning to make it a tradition

#Spike btvs #Angel btvs #Lorne #wesley wyndam pryce #Charles Gunn #Gunn #Cordelia Chase #Cordy #Fred #Winifred Burkle #Darla #Drusilla #Doyle #Allen Francis Doyle #ats #angel the series #angel the series imagine #ats x reader #ats imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #buffyverse hc #buffyverse headcanon #hc #Lindsey McDonald #lindsey #headcanon

[randombtsprincessa]

Belladonna || 1

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Min Yoongi x Reader, Past Lovers! AU

Words: 3k

Genre: Heavy Angst, Smut 

Rating: This chapter is General up to NC-17, rating might go up as story progresses.

Summary: Your life has finally settled into a routine; keeping you far away from your home, friends, family and the man who broke your heart. Coming back home means facing him again and maybe you’re not as over him as you’d like to believe.

Warnings: (in-chap) Heavy Angst, mentions of a toxic relationship.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The idol used as the Muse for the lead is not in anyway affiliated with the work. The characterisation is a work of mine. Any asks or accusations against the work on the grounds of inability to keep fact and fiction seperate on the part of the reader, will not be entertained. 

A/N: Its’s rather sad that the disclaimer has to be added but eh, it’s a bad time for tumblr writing fandom and people are being very mean. Brush past that if you’re sane. Anyway, a very very huge hug to my best friends for screaming at me about this fic. A bunch of thanks to @softyoongiionly​ for hyping up the chapter! And a round of applause for @kithtaehyung​ for beta-ing the chappie!!

Happy Birthday Yoonfie baby!!

It was cold inside the cabin, the air conditioner turned extreme while the outer windows fogged with condensation. Your head leaned against the pane, the thudding and rolling of the train wheels under you jarring your brain in your skull as you watched the world outside flash speedily by.

Trees, small gravelly roads, sign boards, sparse traffic here and there…and then rolling grasslands before the pattern repeated itself…redundant, normal, and soothing.

You sighed, a puff of white exhale clouding around your mouth while your eyes drifted back to the interior of the cabin. This sight was a lot more different, with different people having different lives, problems, worries…

A woman tended to her sniffling child, holding a handkerchief up to the girl’s running nose…a man spoke into his phone; harried and rushed as he more likely than not slurred a few words together…

It was when your eyes caught a girl laying her head on the boy next to hers’ shoulder, smiling serenely when the boy ran a hand through her locks that you turned around again, eyes back to watching the redundant.

There was nothing soothing about people watching.

Or maybe there was and it required some form of inner peace to find the charm in it.

You didn’t have that sort of inner peace; neither did you have the patience for it.

People watching for people like you was anxiety inducing…and you really didn’t want that burden on your shoulders right now. There would be enough anxiety waiting for you when you set your foot home.

“____?”

You turned coffee worn, blue light sunken eyes towards your boss, standing over you with his files clutched to his chest nervously. The sight was enough to make you chuckle. For all his genius, Kim Namjoon was just a giant fumbling through life. It made him a stellar boss and manager, but it also made him a wonderful friend.

“Yes?”

“I just got your email for the leave application.”

You blinked up at your boss expectantly, face calm and relaxed. Of course, your brain had shot straight to overdrive, praying, wishing, and begging for a miracle that would allow your boss to refute the application.

A large red denied would do nothing to hamper your mood; at least it would stamp down the very intrusive tendril of panic that was already gripping around you.

You waited until Namjoon was done rustling inside of the folder in the crook of his arm. The white print out was placed in front of you, green letterings spelling ACCEPTED AND FORWARDED, scrawled on the top screaming obscenities at you.

You looked back at Namjoon.

“We don’t have a lot of work load right now plus you look dead on your feet. Some time away with your folks will be nice, won’t it?”

You very nearly grimaced at his words.

He was sincere, of course he was. Namjoon didn’t have a conniving bone in his body, but right now, you couldn’t help but resent his kindness, his mushy brain that railed against exploiting his workers. You hated the fact that he looked into your eyes and saw past the stubborn energy and caught onto the exhausted person underneath.

So you offered him a tiny smile, just in case the flicker of your crushing despair was made clear onto your traitor face.

“Thank you, Namjoon.”

He placed a heavy, tight hand on your shoulder as he passed by.

“Have a nice vacation, ____.”

Usually, someone who was away from home, working their ass off, making something of themselves away from their family should ideally jump at the chance to take a vacation, to go home and see the family and friends they had.

Ideally…one should be happy at the prospect of going home.

So many times, however, situations were rarely ideal. Sometimes there were complications, convolutions, obstacles…

Sometimes people had no love in their hearts; sometimes there was nothing at all.

Sometimes, there was dread.

Right then, in the rattling carriage that carried you to the small town which had spawned your existence, you could sense the dread carving a pit into your stomach, roiling and curling like a wretched cat kept too long from sunshine.

There was no relief for the upcoming long sleepy times, no joy at the prospect of home food…of warm embraces…

There was just that god awful dread.

You hoped you wouldn’t throw up; though there was nothing in your stomach to hurl but for the coffee you’d pumped in you from the station café. You couldn’t keep anything else down.

You had upped and left your home right after the end of your college life. Many things had come to an end with that particular period in your life. You had scampered and scrapped together enough courage to exit the hole that still robbed you of breath sometimes when you twisted and turned in your bed – sleepless.

You had left shattered pieces of your heart in your whirling escape of the town, the space that you had now the only light that shone at the end of the tunnel back then. Your family and friends, as supportive as they were, had never truly understood why you had nearly clawed away from that world.

To them, it had been the job opportunity.

And it was understandable…

The town, as well-knit and seemingly lovable as it was, was used to being self sufficient. The people there didn’t ever need to leave, they knew everything, helped everyone, and any problem one of them had was a problem for them all.

You couldn’t fit yourself in that mold anymore.

You had left – knowingly cut yourself away from that community.

Your friends had remained; some spreading out of course but they were still as much a part of that bunch as they had been when born.

You didn’t expect anything from them.

Not when he was also still a part of that community.

Your mind jerked away moments before conjuring his likeness behind your eyes, the ticket collector bearing down to save you from the torture of it.

Your fingers fumbled with the pockets of your bag, slipping the stub into his patient hands as he clipped and handed it back to you.

You accepted it meekly, folding into yourself again, eyes drifting back out the window and firmly tugging your thoughts away from your past. You had to prepare for what was going to come now.

Nobody expected you to come, you knew. It was a surprise to you yourself that you had found enough guts in you to pull this off.

Namjoon’s words came back to you.

Some time away with your folks will be nice, won’t it?

You weren’t going to hold out much hope for that.

You found a cab almost immediately out of the station, the many cruisers that stood to one side eager to free you of your luggage and take you off to your destination. You gave your address shakily, hoping this particular driver wasn’t one of the townspeople. Luckily, the man didn’t bat an eye, instead nodding and quietly switching on the radio for the drive over.

You leaned back into the seats, arms grasping the strap of your handbag tight as the moment to face your family and close ones drew closer.

Objectively, your little hometown was very pretty.

Trees lined the major roads, small clusters of buildings interjecting the greenery to spread business to the good people. And as tense as you were, your mind couldn’t help but pick out the differences.

Boutiques were newer and flashier, the diners you remembered now expanded to add cafes or banquets. The town hall was an imposing as ever, only a new marble fountain added to the square in front of it now.

By the time your cab entered the section of the suburbs where you had grown up; your back was straight, neatly aligned with the window. If you had been dreading the homecoming before, it was all gone; replaced with an odd form of resignation.

You lugged your bags out and paid the taxi driver with cold hands, winding bloodless fingers around the handles to pull them up the drive way towards your open door.

The house was full, open and bustling – a normal day for when your mother threw one of her success parties. She was one of the famous people in the town, her career as a landscaper and home decorator for big names making her in turn the man source of revenue and attraction for the town.

It had been both a source of pride and embarrassment to you in your teens. Mainly because your mother insisted on these parties each and every time one of her projects turned out well. But then, as you grew you realized that this is why your mother was important to the town.

She was more than half the money earned and the social events of the calendar.

Inside the house, small clusters of people gathered here and there, in the living room, the kitchen, the dining space. You stood at the door; feeling more exposed than you ever had here but moved in quickly, lest one of them notice you in the doorway and start blabbering about it.

Of course, the three big bags that you carried more than made up for it.

One of the groups of women nearest you turned their heads in synchrony, taking double looks as you passed by before the murmurs began.

How could you tell?

Well because, gossip usually lowers ones’ volume. And each group you passed stopped conversing before muttering arose in its place.

You cut across the living room to your father’s den. Here, there were all men, hands cupping your dad’s cut glasses of scotch but thankfully no one mentioned you dumping your bags right by the door and walking back out.

Your hands fiddled with your scarf, wondering where your family was in their own party but you were loathing asking one of the guests.

Even as you convinced yourself to walk over to one of the ladies by the window sofa, a figure walked past opposite you, a handful of trays of cocktail bites and glasses on them. You jumped, watching as the woman placed the trays on the coffee table, smiling at the people before she turned…and spotted you.

Your sister’s eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering before quick steps led her closer to you.

“____?” She asked, almost checking if it really was you.

You smiled wryly, hand still tangled with your scarf. “Hi Sana, yes it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” She threw herself at you, arms wrapping around your neck to draw you into a warm and nearly forgotten embrace. You stood in her hold for a few seconds, managing to pat her back before she was pulling away, eyes glistening at you.

“Oh god, don’t cry,” you whispered immediately.

“Shut up, these are happy tears; my little sister is home! Hang on; I’ll go get Mom and Dad.” She turned on her heel before you got another word out, mouth parted as she disappeared into the house.

You stood rooted to the spot, hoping against hope she brought your dad first. You just knew your mom would start bawling and then all the neighbors and her social circle would start hovering like the pack of vultures you had the low opinion of them as.

It was unfair and very rude of you, yes, but you couldn’t help but remember half the rumors and gossip that had come from none other than these same people when you had first left. Sympathy or well wishes from them now, would only make you more disgusted.

It had made you keep your own mother at a distance, seeing as she was probably the source of their information.

Thankfully, you knew you could always depend on your dad.

A no-nonsense and rational person, he was only guilty of being extremely in love with your mother. You knew he only bore these parties for her sake and of course your sister, Sana’s.

So when you saw Sana come back, with both your parents you still heaved a relived sigh.

“____, my god, you’re really here.” Your mother was the second to hug you, your father following.

“We didn’t think you would make it this year too.” Your dad said.

“Yeah, it’s been hectic…a lot…for the last couple years.” You repeated the same lies you’d been spouting for two years now. You had spoken the same lines into your phone, in your emails over months and it came much easier while speaking them to their faces.

“Very hectic for a well-established firm, ____, you could’ve asked for a leave, I’m sure office policy allows that.” Your dad said in that logical baritone that rendered most arguments moot.

“That is actually how I got away, Namjoon insisted.” You said; not completely untrue.

“Well, I for one am very happy my little girl is back to me. You’ll stay for a bit, won’t you?” Your mother stroked your hair back from your face.

You smiled tightly at her, thinking of the weeks Namjoon had generously piled on you out of respect for your relentless working for two years under him.

“Yes.”

You caught Sana try and push in, her eyes seeking yours even as your mother squealed in jubilation. “Perfect, we are going to have to throw you a coming home party.”

“Y/M/N,” Your father said lightly. “We are at a party now.”

“Yes, but ____ deserves her own night.” Sana put in before grabbing your hand. “Come on,” she dragged you away from your debating parents.

“Not a lot has changed I guess.” You spoke drily.

“Yeah, maybe, listen I think we need to –”

Sana was cut off by a gasp of your name, your head swiveling to see Park Jimin, one of your old friends gaping at you.

It was a whirlwind of reunions and emotions as people gathered around you, astonished that you’d come back without any mention of it.

“Yeah, I – I guess, it’s a surprise.” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, going over the faces of your childhood to college friends.

Many things had changed while you were gone, true – to the town, to the people and even to your friends but one thing you were glad to see…they hadn’t cut you away completely. Yes, your interaction with them had been reduced to the odd Facebook and Twitter chats and the occasional emails and texts here and there but they still looked…happy to see you.

Park Jimin and his twin, Jihyo had been the first ones to come to you, Jihyo hugging you tightly enough to make you wince. She had been your roommate in college; she probably knew you as well as Sana did – maybe even better. She had introduced you to Jimin and the three of you had been inseparable throughout your college life.

Jimin had apparently been friends with one of your childhood friends, Kim Taehyung.

You were not so shocked to know he was now married, living next door to you with his wife, Nayeon. Sweet and charming, she hugged you like her husband.

“It’s almost like I already know you,” she explained to your unsure smile, “they talk about you so much.”

“Ugh, I’m already worried.” You cringed.

“They were all nice things don’t worry. We had to put down a couple old gossips down here and there, though.” Jimin came to defend his friend.

You glanced at them curiously.

“Oh yeah, it was just old gossipy hags around the town, don’t worry about it. People moved on from you pretty soon to a Miss Mina. She’s a spinster, which apparently is a sin.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “She lives a few houses from us.”

“Also, I think your mom told that friend of hers, Dahyun to stop people gossiping about you. They were task-forcing the town. It was fun to watch.” Jimin added.

A sudden wave of affection for your mother rose up in you, before being quelled by the reminder that she must have done it to protect her own image.

You shrugged then, picking up a glass from one of the trays to take a sip of your mother’s homemade cocktail – fruity and simple on your tongue.

“Enough about me, what about you all?” you pointed at Tae and Nayeon, “Married with a house,” your finger moved to Jimin, “Sports coach,” then Jihyo, “Choreographer,” you stopped.

“What about the others, any news?”

“Not really, we are the ones who still live here you know. Plus, no offense to your mom, but I doubt folks would leave their city jobs to come to her parties.” Jihyo muttered; exchanging a glance of solidarity with you before her eyes widened suddenly.

“What?” you asked.

Her eyes quickly went to her brother, Jimin’s eyes a little more slow on the uptake but they widened too…before repeating the process – albeit comically – with Taehyung.

“What is wrong with you all?” You asked again.

“Um, ____, did Sana tell you -?”

Jimin paused nervously, refusing to look at you as he fiddled with the rim of his glass.

“Tell me what?”

He looked helplessly at his sister. Jihyo hesitated before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Listen, ____, while you were gone” -

She broke off, her eyes darting over your shoulder and stuttering to a stop.

In that moment of her silence, the conversation behind you was clearer.

Or rather, one particular voice was…

Low and deep – soft morning grumbles came back to you – muffled conversations from behind you made you turn around.

It was a voice you would know anywhere. It was one that haunted your dreams, one that crested the ache in your heart on particularly bad days…

It was one you would know beyond a void.

Min Yoongi stood directly across from you, in your home, undoing his coat and removing his scarf, conversing lowly with your sister.

Something she quickly muttered to him had him freezing, long nimble fingers stopping in the unknotting of his scarf.

And then as if he could feel your gaze, could feel your presence, the reason why you left everything behind looked straight up at you, eyes locking across a room…just like the day you had first seen him.

#ficswithluv #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #yoongi #bts #bts suga #suga #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bangtan

[descendantofthesparrow]

Harry Hook x Reader - soulmate au! lost things

=

A soulmate. Something everyone had, whether they be on the Isle or in Auradon. You had watched your mom and dad hand things the other had lost back to each other, either be a pen or a full stack of papers.

Oh, did I forget to mention? Soulmates found whatever the other lost. So say one lost their phone? The other would find it moments later.

Sometimes appearing mid-air and dropping into your hands. Your mom had once lost her wedding ring when she was cooking, your dad decided to be all dorky and “propose” all over again.

It was one of your fondest memories of them, it always filled you with the hope that one day, maybe you and your soulmate would be that way.

Speaking of your soulmate.

A pair of headphones appeared out of the corner of your eye. You smiled and picked them up, examining them.

They were a dark red with black leather for the ear cushions, little silver and gold bits and bobs decorated the headband and outer shell of the speakers, a small cross bone skull painted on the left ear.

You knew for a while that your soulmate was and isle kid, from the state of the items he lost. Always run down or used, broken, worn down, and sometimes, things you had “lost” before that he had lost again.

Like this pair of headphones, it was a pair of headphones you had bought last month and “lost” them, and now soulmate had lost them again.

You tossed them onto your bed and continued to work, knowing you would soon forget about them and they would return to your soulmate.

=

Harry growled in frustration as he tore through his room for his headphones. “goddamnit!” he yelled, tossing up his pillows, hearing them thud on the ground behind him a moment later.

“where the hell are meh headphones!?!” Harriet rolled her eyes behind him, messing with the threads of her new shirt (mostly new, her soulmate had lost it recently)

“yeh dolt it's with yer soulmate, yeh will get it back soon jus’ wait” she muttered, sneering as Harry turned to her and stuck his tongue out.

“shut up Hettie” he jeered back, grabbing his discarded pillows and tossing them back on his bed.

Somehow throughout the years, his soulmate had lost a lot of of….comfortable things, like soft fluffy pillows, blankets, hoodies, and even a full bag of food!

Sometimes he thought his soulmate purposely lost things to give him stuff. It was one of the reasons he wasn’t starving to death or sleeping on a lump of stone for a mattress so he wouldn’t complain.

“harry” he looked at his sister, pressing his lips together and shrugging.

“what” he stressed, eyes drifting to where she was pointing.

There on his dresser was his headphones, though they weren’t there a moment ago “told ya”

Harry glared at her and snatched them off his dresser, tossing them around his neck and stomping out of his room.

=

“(y/n) I swear I can't find my new shirt! I just got it last week!” Audrey whined about her shirt, it was a non-expensive one but it was comfortable and breathable. You sighed through the phone.

“Audrey, if you can't find it, your soulmate has it, so just chill okay?”

She sighed “I know I know but that was a good shirt!”

“just buy another one?” you suggested, knowing she could easily do that.

“but that was-what the-oh” you heard something in the background and you sat up.

“new thing?”

“uh…yeah? It’s a ….bracelet?”

“whats it looks like?” you trapped your phone between your cheek and neck, continuing to work on your essay.

“silver, bunch of….piraty things on it? Is the best way to describe it I guess, and some red gems on it too”

“sounds cool” you laughed, setting your phone down and turning on speakerphone. “so hows you “vacation” going?”

“pretty good, I got my hair done”

“I saw, it looks dope” you complimented. Audrey hummed back.,

“I like it too, so anything new for you?”

“yeah, headphones, and a ring” you glanced at the red ruby ring on your desk, the teeth of the skull clamping around the jewel” “so you’re sure its an isle kid?”

“has to be, everything they lose is used, the only thing that was relatively new was stuff I lost”

“hmmm, well you know I really don’t like isle kids”

“correction, you don’t like Mal” you interrupted quickly, knowing she liked Evie to an extent and Carlos and Jay weren’t really on her radar.

“yeah yeah, but if they are an isle kid I won't be mean, if it's your soulmate it's your soulmate!”

“same for you Aud” you teased, her lost things were also very…isle like, but she constantly denied it.

“oh shut up”

You glanced at your clock and sighed “I gotta go, I have a thing to do”

“im guessing cotillion?” Audrey muttered.

“yeah, sorry Aud”

“its fine, its not your fault Ben was spelled”

“I know, but still” you murmured, saving your essay and closing your laptop “alright I really gotta go!”

“bye! Talk to you later kisses!” she made a kiss sound and hung up, leaving you to get to jane to help plan cotillion.

=

You jumped as Lonnie burst into your room, speaking quickly “bens on the isle kidnapped by pirates and I need your help to convince Jay and Carlos to let us help!”

You stayed silent as you processed her words before leaping out of bed and quickly getting dressed.

“let's go!” you grabbed your sword and ran out with Lonnie,  running around to the front.

“we’re coming with you guys” Lonnie stated, surprising  Jay and Carlos, the two boys laughed nervously.

“what? We don’t need swords at the…..waffle hut?” Carlos's smile dropped and he slowly turned his head to look at jay.

“really?”

“look its either you take us or….we’re gonna have to tell fairy godmother” jay and claros glanced at each other and sighed.

“alright, but (y/n) do you eve-“

You snorted and lifted up your arm, revealing the P tattoo you had gotten a couple of years back In honor of your uncle jack.

“There are some things I haven't told you guys” you laughed, pushing past them and heading to the limo.

=

Harry raised his brow as beasty boy kept glancing at his wrist “what are yeh lookin’ at beasty” he huffed, pointing his hook at him.

“…that bracelet looks very familiar for some reason” Ben muttered, squinting at the red and (f/c) beaded bracelet.

“so wha’ its meh soulmates” Harry rolled his eyes, turning around and strutting around the mainmast.

Bens eyes widened, that’s where he recognized it, it was (y/n)s! maybe-

“Finally!!!” ben was ripped from the mast, and pushed to the plank. “so lets get this started shall we!!” Ben looked to the group had arrived, relieved to see you among them.

No matter how pirate someone was, it was hard to beat the daughter of the king of pirates after all.

(y/n) turner.

=

You glanced around, some of these guys were hardly holding their swords correctly. You kept your sword behind your back since Mal had said to keep them hidden so Uma didn’t know anything was up.

Soon, mal passed the wand to uma, ben being handed back to her. As the pirates yelled in victory, you locked eyes with the tall red-coated boy, his bright ocean blue eyes sending a shock down your spine.

‘the hell’ you thought to your self, shaking your head, about to run back to the tunnel when uma screamed and broke the “wand”

“NO!” your eyes widened, watching as Uma drew her sword “YOU DO NOT GET TO WIN EVERY TIME!” Carlos dug out the smoke bombs and launched them at the pirates.

You sighed, drawing your sword and flipping it in your hand, cringing as mal fumbled to grip ber sword correctly.

“mal space your fingers and move your thumb to the right!”

You leaped down the deck, landing in a crouch next to mal. “you focus on ben, ill handle any that come” mal looked startled but obeyed, running up the deck to get to ben.

Uma locked eyes with you, pointing her sword at you “get her!”

You smirked, twisting around and dodging several pirates blades, heh, your baby cousin could fight better than these goons.

Uam huffed, deciding to deal with you herself. You smirked as she ran at you, easily blocking and parrying her attacks.

She was quite good, possibly taught by one of the OG pirates that lived on the isle, but still.

She couldn’t best you. You disarmed her and tripped her, wincing slightly as she hit the deck with a loud smack.

“who the hell-“ her eyes widened as she caught sight of your wrist. You smirked.

“honor among thieves young captain” you purred, embedding her cutlass beside her head. As you ran to head back to the tunnel, something appeared mid-air.

A silver hook.

…

…

…

Oddest fucking timing you got ain't cha soulmate??? You ignored it, strapping the hook to your belt loops and running, not seeing umas jaw drop as that entire event happened.

“holy shit” she muttered, jumping as Harry popped up behind her and growled.

“I lost meh hook!”

=

Later in the limo, Evie finally caught sight of the hook, her eyes widening “h-how did you get Harrys hook? You never fought with him??”

“Harry who?” you muttered confused, grabbing the hook from your waist and holding it up “wait was this Harry apart of the battle?”

“yes! He was uma first mate! The one with the red coat!” Evie stressed.

You were silent for a moment before facepalming “this popped out of the air just as we were leaving.”

“oh shit” the car sounded back, Harry Hook was your soulmate.

=

A year later, the hook still sat on your dresser, delicately placed in a display case, and polished every week.

You had been unable to forget about it, unable to send it back to harry. So you kept it, not being able to go to the isle and give it back personally.

Until one day.

You dove underwater, glaring back up at the surface as you saw Audrey disappear.

You were really glad you followed your gut and took the hook with you to Janes birthday party.

Breaching the surface you took heavy breathes, swimming to the edge and lifting yourself up onto the grotto.

“come on, we gotta warn the others!” you lifted jane out of the pool.

“you go do that, I have to get my stuff!” you took your bike back to the dorms, changing out of your wet party clothes and into your gear.

You slid your loose leather jacket up to just below your elbow, putting on your gloves and ring.

Black pants with reinforced knees, calf-length steel toe boots, and your sword, hook once more on your belt loop.

As you stepped out of the dorms, you locked eyes with the vks.

“hey” you yelled out, smirking as they all jumped. “where the hell have you all been??”

“uh, getting hades ember???” mal looked you up and down, raising her brows “why are you dressed like that?”

“because I can” you snorted, locking eyes with harry “hey, I think this is yours” unhooking the hook, tossing it to harry.

He fumbled to catch it, jaw-dropping as he realized what it was “how-when did yeh get me…..oh…OH!” his cheeks turned pink, looking away from you and into his shoulder.

“yep, how’d you lose it in the first place?” you asked, watching as Harry glared at jay. “ah, gotcha” you snorted, following the group out as they had decided to go to the castle.

=

You smiled as the bridge began to build, your parents just behind you, hands on your shoulders. “you ready (y/n)” your mom asked, brushing a piece of cake off your cheek,

“yeah, and I think you guys will like him” you snickered. Your parents looked at each other, smiles on their faces.

“and why is that?”

“hes a pirate” you laughed, watching as Harry stepped over the bridge/Auradon border and locked eyes with you, a bright smile on his lips. He started to walk over to you.

“like mother like daughter” your dad laughed, grinning widely as you ran forward into Harry's arms.

“found yeh” Harry laughed, nuzzling his cheek into your hair, holding you tightly to his chest.

“I think our daughters in good hands” your mom hummed, intertwining hands with Will and walking over to greet harry.

you turned, smirking as you saw a black haired pirate girl hang Audrey recently lost necklace in front of her, Audrey cheeks Turing dark and she buried her face in her hands.

“wait Hetties soulmate is Audrey?....whoa” harry laughed, watching as his sister kissed the princesses forehead.

“i knew it” you chuckled, taking Harry arm and dragging him to meet your parents half way. “i never told you who my parents were right?”

“no?”

“yeah my moms Elizabeth Swan and my dads Will Turner.”

“WHAT?!”

---the end---

-this isn’t my best but I just had to get this idea out of my head, inspired by tik tok POVs with this au, might do a more in depth version of this--

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@queer-cosette​

@sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​

@random-thoughts-003​

@amorathegamingkitsune​

@rintheemolion​

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine

[satyr-syd]

Seconds after Sero stepped into the blazing heat of the summer sun, sweat already pooling at the base of his spine under his thin tank-top, it began to snow.

Chilly pin-pricks dotted the back of his back. A gust of wind manifested out of nowhere and whipped against his tragically exposed sides. He held out his hand and watched as tiny white specks melted on his sweaty palm. Sero looked up, but the sun still beat down, unhindered by a single wisp of cloud. Goosebumps pimpled down his arms.

Well this sucks.  

He was supposed to meet Todoroki in the quad five minutes ago for their daily study session (Sero had many charming qualities, and being fashionably late was one of them). Ever since their dorm’s AC had been tragically annihilated in an acid-related incident that Sero had absolutely no part in whatsoever, the quad was the best place to study. Outside, there was at least the suggestion of a breeze.

Okay, so it was a bit more than a suggestion now. More like a firm instruction, edging on harsh demand.

Sero rubbed his arms together, elbows tight against his poor exposed sides. Man oh man was he not a fan of winter. Winter meant trying to find the one jacket in the entire mall that suited his specific physique and hoping they still stocked it in his size. Where did the snow even come from? Why did it have to be now of all times? If he tried to make himself a jacket out of his tape would it actually work this time?

While Sero stood there freezing his ass off like an idiot instead of like, going back inside, a white-and-red head made its way through the quad to him.

read on ao3

fic art by @kim-namzoom!!!

“Hanta,” Todoroki greeted. His hair, grown lovingly past his shoulders in the spirit of spite (“My father despises it,” Todoroki had announced proudly after returning from winter break their second year), laid over his shoulder in a loose braid. Sero wondered who’d braided it for him. It looked nice.

By then, an icy sheen coated the ground and the wind blew loud enough to howl in his ear, and the nails on Sero’s fingers began to purple. “Dude, is this you?” Sero asked.

Todoroki shook his head. He stood close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know how to make snow.”

“Huh,” Sero said. “You should learn how. Then we could have snow cones like every day.”

Todoroki held out his hand - the right one - next to Sero’s.Whereas the snowflakes melted into watery mush in Sero’s palm after a few moments, they held their shape in Todoroki’s, forming a lacy layer of crystals over his slender fingers.

“Do you like snowcones?” Torodoki asked.

Sero shrugged. “Dunno, never had one.”

“Neither have I.”

Present Mic’s voice burst through the loudspeakers. “THERE HAS BEEN A QUIRK MISHAP! SORRY FOR THE UNFORESEEN WEATHER, KIDDOS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR ROOMS WHILE WE FIGURE OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING.”

The few students still standing outside slowly filed indoors.

“Maybe one of the first years?” Sero asked.

“Probably,” Todoroki said. He held up his hand. “They’re the ones most lacking in control...and yet, overflowing with arrogance.”

“Wow, sounds like someone I knew in first year.”

Todoroki nodded sagely. “Bakugou was certainly a handful.”

“I know you know who I was talking about,” Sero said, poking his shoulder.

Todoroki smirked. It was just the slight quirk of his lips, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. Sero knew to look. He’s seen that smile a lot, these days. Which was great, because Todoroki had a wonderful smile, but also not great, because whenever he made Todoroki smile, his heart doki-doki ’d so hard that he was positive Todoroki could hear it.

See, asking Todoroki to tutor him had been a highly calculated move that had not one, but two purposes: first, Sero was, is, and (if we’re being honest) probably always will be a terrible student and if there was any chance of him getting decent grades his last year of high school, he needed a tutor. He could have asked the other top-scoring students, but Momo and Kendo were too busy (he wasn’t the only idiot scrambling for a passing grade), Bakugou was too explodey, Iida was too boring, and Midoriya was too muttery. Todoroki was none of those things and also the hottest of the bunch, which lead to purpose number two: as his tutor, he and Todoroki could spend more time alone together. Why? Because six months had passed since Sero admitted to himself that he was no better than every other girl in school and was totally crushing on the Icy-hot hero Shouto and now he’s tired of pining like some basic bitch.

“Let’s study in my room,” Todoroki said.

Sero had been to Torodoki’s room like, a ton of times, but his heart still skipped a beat every time Todoroki invited him. “Lead the way, sensei,” he said.

“I’m not your sensei.”

“Your teaching prowess says otherwise, sensei.”

“Call me sensei one more time and I’ll have Bakugou quiz you on polar coordinates.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Sero said. He spun in front of Todoroki. “But I don’t think you have the heart to follow through on that - ” Sero tapped his nose to the beat of his killing blow “ -  sen-sei.”

Todoroki stared at him for a moment, pouting, cheeks pink from the cold. Then he pulled out his phone and began texting Bakugou.

“Noooooo shit I’m sorry I’ll stop! It was just a joke!”

This is it,  Sero told himself.  Snow storm wailing outside, holed up in Todoroki’s room, just the two of us - this is my moment.

Todoroki’s room hadn’t changed much since their first year. Decorative pot of bamboo in the corner (fake), tall, dark wooden drawers, a low desk free of clutter, tatami flooring, somehow. That ugly checkered mat by his desk. But where there once was one chair, now there were two. A pair of crocs (never worn) sat in front of his dresser. And on the dresser, crowding the decorative orb, half a dozen framed pictures: Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou at the end of their internship with Endeavor; their class picture from last year; Natsuo and Fuyumi showering Todoroki in hugs; a selfie Sero took of him and Todoroki on their first day of their summer internship with Edgeshot.

There was also a behemoth purple beanbag sitting by the shoji screen. It looked wildly out of place with the rest of his traditional set-up. Sero dragged it over to Todoroki’s desk and flopped down into it.

Over the next twenty minutes, they reviewed that day’s lessons (apparently it’s like, good practice to review what you’ve learned that same day, which was annoying, but Sero’s grades had been going up, so whatever). Todoroki explained over and over until Sero actually understood how to convert Cartesian coordinates to polar coordinates. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explain so many times if Sero had listened carefully, but, well, it was hard with Todoroki talking to him in the soothing, patient tone he took on when he was teaching. He just looked so cute with his brow furrowed, thinking up a new way to explain a concept that would penetrate Sero’s thick skull. Sero liked to think he had built up a tolerance to buff, attractive men over his nearly-three years at U.A., but he was still weak to Todoroki’s hands, to the way his tight t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders.

The fact that he was cold as shit wasn't helping him focus either. Faint shadows of falling snow danced along the translucent paper walls of the shoji screen, taunting him.

But hey, at least he vaguely understood the polar coordinate system.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Sero said after he finally solved a difficult math problem all on his own. “I bet the others would die to get their hands on your notes.”

“Guess they’ll die, then.”

Sero snickered. “That’s rough, dude.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not going to put effort into something I don’t like to do when I know they won’t appreciate it.”

Sero freezes. “Wait - you don’t like tutoring?”

“Well - ”

“Oh shit, am I making you do something you hate? Bro, why didn’t you tell me, I wouldn’t have - ”

“It’s different when it’s you,” Todoroki said sharply.

Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Todoroki was joking, or if he was actually serious. The look in those blue-brown eyes, though, showed his resolve loud and clear.

Todoroki immediately averted his eyes. “I like helping you,” he muttered, “so it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

Not for the first time, Sero wondered: why him? Todoroki had many other friends ...maybe friends that were smarter than he was and didn’t need tutoring, granted, but other friends he could be hanging out with. What’s the appeal? Was it his wonderfully terrible sense of humor? Was it the muscles he totally wasn't showing off? Was it because they shared the same taste in manga (oh yeah - he should ask Todoroki if he finished with week’s Shonen Champion)? Was it because he, unlike at least half of their year, was capable of talking at a normal volume? Over his time at U.A., Sero had gained more confidence in himself than he ever thought he would, but when it came to Todoroki, he still felt...small. Unsure if the light that shone from a great hero like Todoroki drowned out his own little spark.

Usually things between them were pretty chill, but after that comment, a weird kind of tension settled over the room. Not bad, just quiet, like when there's a sleeping cat on your laps and you're afraid any movement will wake it.

Pretty soon, though, Sero began to shiver. He couldn’t help it - there was a winter storm outside, apparently, and he was in a tank top and jorts, and seriously, did  no one  turn the heat on? Did no one turn the heat on  and  the AC miraculously began working again?

Todoroki was staring at him, too. God, he must have thought Sero was some kind of pansy, getting cold so easily, unable to regulate his own temperature like  some  people (though he guessed in that case, most people would be pansies to Todoroki).

13) Convert 2x−5x   3   =1+xy into polar coordinates.

Sero tapped his pen against his paper. Todoroki’s gaze followed the movement, then returned to his face. Sero could practically feel his impatience.

Sero put his pen down and stretched his arms over his head. Todoroki looked away.  Got’em.  

“You know...” Sero said. Todoroki glanced back at him. “...staring at me isn’t going to help me solve this stupid question any faster.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Todoroki said, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Sero grinned. Anyone who knew him well can tell you that the Cool and Cold hero Shouto was just as petty as any mortal. Probably pettier, in fact. “You totally were.”

Todoroki frowned. “You were shivering.”

“Yeah, wonder why.”

Todoroki’s gaze shifted over to him. He looked Sero up and down. Sero tried and failed not to shiver. Todoroki’s clenched jaw softed and his eyes smiled and he stared - this time, he  was definitely staring - Sero felt his face heating up (well, that’s one way to get warm).

Wordlessly, Todoroki got up and sat down next to him on the beanbag. Sero fell against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, the tips of Todoroki’s braid tickling his shoulder.

Sero froze up (pun intended). His heart pounded in his ears. But he knew what Todoroki was doing, so he didn’t feel guilty as he curled into his side, basking in the warmth like a cat in a strip of sunlight. And the warmth from Todoroki’s left side began to melt him down.  

He pressed his cheek against Todoroki’s shoulder and said, “I thought you didn’t like people using you as a space heater.”

“Most people.”

Sero smirked. “So you’re saying I’m special?”

Todoroki looked at him and smiled. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”

Ohhhh man oh fuck. How could he just say that, looking at him like that, like he was more than just the plainest guy in class, like he really was special? Sero was known for keeping his cool, for being the chillest dude in the group, but with someone as special as Todoroki looking at him like  he’s  special…fuck.

“I mean, well, like that was just about tutoring and not, you know - ”  nearly sitting in my fucking lap,   “  - sharing personal space.”

“You looked cold,” Todoroki said. He could feel Todoroki’s breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want you to be distracted.”

“I’m a lot more distracted now.”

A part of him cringed as the words left his mouth. Oh god, why did I say that, was that even sexy?  But another part of him pushed that part down and shushed it. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, it said. Even if Todoroki turned him down, at least he could graduate without any regrets. Maybe he could even tell his grandkids that he once received a  personal  rejection from the great hero Shouto.

“Oh.” Todoroki said, shoulder tensing where Sero leaned against him. Sero braced himself mentally, the same way he did before he launched himself off a building, preparing for the inevitable gut-plunge as he swooped toward the ground. “...me too.”

And there’s the thrill of the upward swing.

Sero was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have shot his shot if he’d thought he had no chance. Still, hearing Todoroki say he feels it too took him by surprise in the best way possible. Like tasting the sweet tang of umiboshi in the center of a plain-looking onigiri. Like acing a test you thought you failed. Like snow in June.

The air between them was electric but still. Did that count as admitting their feelings? What should he say now? Where were they supposed to go from here? All Sero wanted to do his grab Todoroki’s hand and hold his stupid pretty face in his hands and kiss him silly, but they should probably like, talk about things -

“Hanta.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh thank fuck - yes please.”

And then he was kissing Todoroki Shouto, son of number one hero Endeavor, one of the Big Three most promising students at the most prestigious hero school in the country. His lips were soft but clumsy, shy but adamant as he pressed against him. Sero cupped his face and felt the slight inhale of Shouto’s gasp. Despite being pinned down by the weight of Shouto’s chest on his and trapped between the strong forearms framing his face, the light that perpetually emanated from the great hero Shouto wasn’t overwhelming. Sero was warmed by his light instead of cowed by it. In that moment, Shouto’s light drew out the best in him - and his little spark ignited.  

Yet, that question that always nagged him surfaced again: Why me?      

As Shouto’s kisses began to trail down his neck, Sero figured he could ask why later - when Shouto wasn’t busy showing him it’s you, it’s you.      

Even with the frozen tundra battering just outside, Sero was burning up again.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #seroroki #sero hanta #todoroki shouto #my writing

[athrialuxegna]

Stronger than she thinks Part 5

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fanfiction  | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

Hi guys, I updated the last chapters so they seem nicer to read, tell me what you think about it in the comments. I also edited the links to the previous and next chapters as they were a total mess, sorry about that! I hope that you like this story so far, I try my best to readproof it, but some mistakes remain, my bad if it’s bothering you.

Thanks for those who lived a note on the previous chapters, it means at lot! -Lys

What was I doing? That question rang in my head as I made my way to the Child Care Service. I was not a fan of kids, they bothered me more than anything else. Their cries, tears, and temper tantrums were stress-inducing for me. They made me uneasy and self-conscious with their bluntness. As we all say, "truth always comes from a child's mouth" and that's what put me on edge. I didn't know what to expect of my babysitting day. Why did I accept such a thing? Eric, of course. I wanted to know if it was his idea or if it was just a sick joke on Max's part. One can never be so sure about others' intentions and hidden agendas. The leaders had the power to make everything possible within the walls of the headquarters. Why would they want me near orphans? That's what I intended to discover.

I played with my fingers, eyes fixated on the door decorated with drawings, tiny handprints, and a whole bunch of names. How many children find themselves alone every year? No idea, but it seemed that numerous of them had gone through that door to find a new home. It was not really surprising when we knew that their parents took risks on a daily basis.

Patrols in the factionless territory could turn bad pretty fast. The homeless didn't have anything to lose, they were determined to seek their revenge on the system that shut them down without any possibility to be part of it. I understood where they came from. They had to fight to live whereas all the other factions would sustain themselves without thinking twice about them. Except for the selfless Abnegation faction that helped them the best they could by providing them supplies, clothes, and from time to time, food. However, their violence had dire consequences in the Dauntless faction.

As the soldiers of the city, we were to protect and maintain peace in the streets. We were the first to suffer from the conflicts between Factionless and the system. These children were proof of that. I sighed deeply, my fingers caressing the weird painted animals.

" I'm glad you came here, they're really excited to meet you. "

Startled by Eric's deep voice, I turned around to find him, arms crossed, shoulder pressed against the wall a few feet away from me. A small smile stretched my lips, although I could tell that it didn't match my eyes. I wasn't thrilled at the idea of taking care of children. I have never done it before because I was always afraid to make something wrong and being an only child didn't help either. I swallowed thickly, trying my best to keep my cool in front of the young leader.

"Hey, I didn't know I was coming until now," I admitted in a whisper. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Don't be so tense, they're not that bad. I promise everything will be alright, they gave their word to behave." He reassured, eyes locked in mine.

"I'm not afraid of the children," I snorted softly. "I'm more nervous about me being around them..." I shifted my weight on my other foot before adding: "How do you do? I mean, with the initiates and… kids? " I asked, curious about his answer.

Eric snickered, I didn't expect him to be so confident and relaxed, it was as if he had done it his whole life. Which wasn't far from the truth, he had taken care of the initiates since he became a leader five years ago, if not more. I didn't keep track of time as often as I should considering my job but days were pretty much the same since I've been hired to be Harrison's assistant. I felt my cheeks burn and I looked at my feet, defeated that he mocked me for being a pansycake. Which I was, but still, it hurt.

"If I can do it, you certainly can, Chris. Come on, they won't eat you."

Before I could respond, Eric opened the door and made a sign for me to enter. I heard shuffling and whispers, all noises died down as soon as I was inside. The children lined up obediently, aware of Eric's presence behind my back. I felt intimidated under the scrutiny of their innocent eyes. They were of all different ages and sizes, some were almost teenagers.

"Hi," I waved, almost shy. "I'm Christine but you can call me Chris, it's nice to meet you all."

"Hi Chris." They exclaimed in unison.

One of the oldest stepped forward, his shaggy blond hair falling in his chocolate eyes. His joyful smile was contagious, I couldn't help but return it. However, his expression changed suddenly as he seemed to think about his next words. The younger ones kept gawking at me as if I was an alien coming from another dimension. I felt the tension rising in the room as the blond hair boy opened his mouth. Was he the leader of the group or something? Is this some sort of secret children cult?

It looked like it, and this boy gave me a lot of Eric's vibes. He held his head high, his torso pumped, shoulders behind. A future leader for sure... or another Brent. That thought made me frown. How could I compare him with this asshole without even knowing his name? It wasn't fair for the teen. I pushed away any unwanted images. Having a mental breakdown in front of the kids wouldn't do me any good. No doubt that Eric would report it to Max and I was good for an endless "vacation". The other kids looked at him with mixed expressions, some seemed about to explode from excitement or take a run at any moment to come back to their games, and some were tapping their foot impatiently as if waiting for a signal to be able to speak.

"Before we introduce ourselves and let you join us, you have to pass the test." The boy sounded much older than he looked at that moment.

My jaw clenched as I pictured Brent in his place. It was so easy to see the similarities between them. Were they related? If that's the case, I'll make sure to keep my distance. My eyes widened and I stole a glance at Eric who was smirking. He only shrugged his shoulders when he met my eyes. Damn him, he should have warned me beforehand.

"Depends on what this… test is."

What would they want me to do or say? The blond boy made a sign and all children moved in sync to gather around him, whispering between them to come to an agreement. What was that? After several seconds of heated debates, they finally took their original place. Mini soldiers, perfect future initiates, are already programmed to fulfill the faction's goals. Was it Eric's doing? All these questions drove me insane, I wanted to turn around and talk to the leader alone.

I needed some clarification on what's going on and the rules of this Child Care Service. While I was thinking of it, I didn't see any worker or nurse on my way here. Did nobody care about these kids? Was it a wicked way to push me to take the job? I was so lost that I didn't register that the teenager had taken another step forward, standing right in front of me. He was almost eye level to me, he had to be at least fifteen if not more.

"So, Chris. If you want to become one of us, you have to answer one question." The boy paused to look me dead in the eyes. "What do you think of Eric?"

I blinked a few times, unable to comprehend his question. He curled an eyebrow in defiance, a smirk playing on his lips. His expression matched Brent's perfectly, so much that I shuddered. Heat rose in my cheeks, coloring my skin a deep red, I felt hot and cold, shivers running down my spine. I gathered all my courage to not react when I caught a glimpse of satisfaction in his irises. I won't let this brat get to me that easily. In truth, I was a complete wreck Brent and the boy morphed into the same person in my mind, that same wolfish grin on their lips. I slapped myself mentally to snap out of it. I needed to answer that stupid question or else they'll consider me weak and that wasn't an option.

"Cat got your tongue?" Teased the teenager, arms now crossed over his chest, surely imitating Eric's posture, but lacking his charisma.

" No, I… I didn't expect that kind of question, that's all." I felt Eric's eyes boring into my skull from behind. "We don't work a lot together so I don't think I know him as well as you do, but I trust him, he's a good person, even though he's almost always in a bad mood. I also like his jokes." I added more quieter so that the leader couldn't hear me properly. "Don't tell him that I said that but, sometimes, he's not funny but I laugh anyway to not make him feel bad."

I think I gained some extra points with my remark because the kids burst into laughter, clutching their sides as if recalling the infamous jokes of Eric. I tried my best to smile when the blond boy extended his hand to shake mine. His hold was strong and confident, showing me clearly that I just entered his territory.

"Congratulations, Chris, you're welcomed in the CCS." He bent over to whisper softly in my ear. "Eric didn't lie, you truly are beautiful."

Stunned by his boldness, I stared at him, fear evident in my eyes. Wrong move. Something flickered in his eyes, a malicious glint that made me want to run for my life. What he said took time to reach my mind. Eric told him that I was beautiful? I blushed uncontrollably, his smile grew wider, believing that he was the one to have this effect on me. I opened my mouth to retaliate but he beat me to it.

"I'm Aidan by the way. I'm sure we'll get along very well." He called over his shoulder as he turned on his heels and joined the older ones.

Petrified, I jumped out of my skin when Eric's hand found my shoulder. He put it back right away as if I just burned him. His worried eyes plunged into mine and I knew that I was screwed again. Eric was able to pick up that something was wrong. Something that we couldn't discuss in front of the kids.

"Don't let Aidan get to your head, he just likes to mess with everyone. He's a good boy when you get to know him."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I replied dryly, unconvinced.

One by one, the children came to introduce themselves. There were so many names to remember and faces to attach them to, I started to feel a pounding headache making its way into my brain. At least, it helped me get my mind off Aidan and Brent. I already had a fan club following me like lost puppies around the room. Everytime I turned around they would hide behind furniture, playing innocent. This routine kept going for some time before I got tired of walking aimlessly. The only one following me without even hiding it was a little girl who hasn't said a word since my entrance. I crouched down to her level, a reassuring smile on my lips as she cowered a little from me.

"You didn't tell me your name before," I said gently.

She just looked at me, clutching a stuffed bunny in her tiny arms. Her emerald eyes were mesmerizing, I could almost drown into these pools of rich greenery, they were gradually lighter from the center to turn into a deep olive green on the outer ring.. She looked so small and frail compared to the others, I wondered what her story was. Seconds passed and she didn't try to make a sound. I finally gave up, it will take time for her to warm up to me that's all. I brushed her hair out of her eyes, revealing her porcelain skin.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, it doesn't matter."

To my surprise, she jumped into my arms and clung to me even when others wanted my attention. I sat in a chair, humming softly an old song from before the war. I didn't remember the lyrics nor the title clearly, but I could recall the melody anytime. The mute little girl was snoring in my neck as I rocked her back and forth. She dozed off minutes prior, lulled by my voice. I didn't realize that many children were sitting around us, listening and daydreaming.

Eric was sitting in a chair nearby, his hands behind his neck, eyes closed. He seemed different among the kids, less nervous and on edge, he didn't even have to raise his voice to make his point clear. The children surely respected him. The peacefulness lasted another twenty minutes before a knocking on the door stirred awake the few ones who had fallen asleep. I came back to reality, my hand entangled in the girl's brown hair. When did I begin to stroke her head? She looked comfortable on me, her hands held my shirt as if to prevent me from abandoning her. My heart ached painfully for her, she wanted affection and attention, as any of these kids.

"Chris." I looked up to see Eric towering above me, a knowing smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "It's time for us to go, the next team is here to take over."

I admitted that I enjoyed my day here, as long as we forgot about Aidan. The girl in my arms shook her head, realizing that we were about to leave. Her fingers curled around my shirt, preventing me from putting her back down. I felt bad so bad that I hugged her back and whispered in her ear.

"I'll come back, I promise."

She refused to let me go as I tried to pry her off. I kept murmuring sweet nothings to ease her pain to no avail, she was stubborn as a honk. Eric approached and tried to take her with him but she fought back, crying silently. I didn't know what to do so I let the leader take matters in his hands.

"Violette, look at me." The brunette looked at him with teary eyes, he gently wiped her tears away. "You know that we can't stay all the time here, we have to eat, work and sleep, too." Violette nodded slightly. "We'll come back before you know it, now Martha will take care of you. I heard that she has a gift for you, one that you wanted for a long time."

Violette's face brightens at the prospect of a new toy. She kissed my cheek then wriggled in my grasp. I put her down and she ran straight to Martha who was ushering the elders towards the bathroom. A contented smile crept upon my lips, kids were so fast to change their minds. I envied their ability to forget about their problems as long as they had anything to play with.

"Fear of abandonment, a hard one to fight against at such a young age." Commented Eric beside me. "They're stronger than most of the initiates that I've trained so far."

"That's not right, they're still kids, Eric."

"I know. I don't like it either, but it's their way of processing what they've been through. They grow up faster than the other kids, they have to look after themselves because they know no one will do that for them. I try to be there whenever I can, it's obviously not enough, you know how a leader's agenda is full."

"I can help." I blurted out before I could think of it.

"That's not why I brought you here." He replied without explaining further as we made our way out of the room.

"Thanks, that was… interesting and surprisingly calming."

"I knew you'd like it. So, you'll come back?"

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Right."

A casual silence followed our little conversation. My thoughts were drifting away when he spoke again.

"What did Aidan say to you?"

"Nothing to worry about, he was just being a teenager." I dismissed with a flick of my hand.

"Don't lie to me, Chris. I saw the fear in your eyes." His tone grew cold. "What did he say?'

"That's not what he said," I whispered. "He kind of reminds me of Brent. I don't know why but I don't feel safe around him. Damn, I'm ten years older, I shouldn't feel like this." I ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to keep my composure.

Eric remained silent as I stopped dead in my tracks before we came close to a more crowded walkway. He turned his head with an eyebrow raised in question. I sighed, debating whether I should talk to him or simply keep my struggles to myself. He must have sensed my hesitation, he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing to read into my soul.

"Stop doing this."

"Doing what?" He retorted, genuinely clueless.

"Your "I'm reading your mind look", it's quite annoying." Eric rolled his eyes.

"Then stop thinking that I'll report to Max whatever you say or do, and talk to me instead of overthinking. "

That was my turn to fall into silence, his face softened ever so slightly and I felt guilty. He helped me before I even was aware of it, I should be grateful and trust him, but I couldn't because I didn't trust myself anymore. At least, not for now.

"Chris, I've already told you that seeking help doesn't make you weak nor unworthy. "

My heart skipped a beat, was this his way of saying to let him help me? His cerulean eyes screamed sincerity. Why was he caring so much about my well-being?

"Thank you, Eric. I'll keep that in mind." He nodded curtly. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Meet me here at four, we'll go together."

"Sounds good. " We shared one last look, then we parted ways.

#ericxoc #eric coulter #eric divergent #divergent #divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #four #eric divergent x oc #eric coulter x oc

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch24 Accidential New Star

(I had to look up the prices and what the bill document said to get this right.)

Dead Bird Studios.

The place where for YEARS had been the birthplace of creativity and actors on the big screen. And now she was standing right in front of it. The others didn't look so fazed at the big building considering they had been there multiple times before but that didn't stop her from staring up in fascination at it all. It. WAS. HUGE!! WAY bigger than those tall buildings back on the moon. A giant logo sign of a black bird skull and film real decorated the outside on the big front there with the giant words under it reading DEAD BIRD STUDIOS. A parking lot stood between them and the entrance and they were already walking across it towards the entrance. To the far left of them, they could all see a bunch more of those cars parked into the rectangular spaced, not that Poppy was paying attention as they marched across in the hot sun beating down on them all. Poppy would be lying if she wasn't impressed, as she subconciously walked after the small group still walking, the shadow of the building fell over her and she involuntarily sighed feeling the harsh rays of the sun gone for a moment. Still following along after them up to the double doors of the building. The grown lady flinched when they opened on their own as soon as Cookie got near it and mumbled grumpily to herself about forgetting her purse and having to walk all the way back here on her day off of all things helping out and how it was so rude of her to make them all take this detour. Not that anyone minded as the children excitedly ran in past them inside. Poppy glanced wearily at the doors for a moment while passing, jumping a foot forward when it closed by themselves, blue eyes glanced between it and Cookie for a moment before following after the mumbling cat. The long hallway was pretty dark with a black carpet with bird skull patterns with lots of white squares lights barely lighting up the place. With a whoosh noise the doors up ahead opened on their own accord and the three children ran on through and into what looked like a well lit room. As they continued to persue the children down the rest of the hall she thought she heard some squeals of delight but she wasn't too sure yet. When she finally approuched the double pair of doors, they opened again with a whoosh for Cookie and Poppy flinched again...Before blinking and sticking her head into the lit room. A giant white Television set(computor) was sat on the counter which was the first thing she saw, and shiny marble floors reflected the bright lights above. There was a tired looking bird manning the counter as he calmly watched everything around him. Next to him was some kind of giant piece of heavy looking machinery, and as Poppy finally stepped in, she gawked at the sight of GIANT glass cases on either side of the room with shiny copies of trouphies safely sat inside with names of old movie directors of years past. But those only held her attention for a moment, above the trophies on either side were giant framed posters. On the right with a few penguins gathered was a strange looking instrument in disco lights, a ...slime monster??, and some penguin in an astronaut suit. To the right was a more western style of two seperate birds holding guns and a random cactus. Two doors were on either side and two signs by them each saying FILMING IN PROGRESS.

"DARLING!! You're back so soon?," A loud voice boomed out and Poppy yelped dropping her bags of clothing on the floor.

Who the voice belongs to was another moon penguin...But this one looked TOTALLY different from any other penguin she's seen before. He wore a ridiculous outfit with weirder shoes on his feet making him taller than the other penguins by a few inches, and he actually had hair and yellow eye brows styled up into some kind of weirder haircut, and last but certainly not least a giant pair of all black shaped sunglasses over his eyes. His beak was curled up in a smile as he approuched from the small crowd of three girls tailing after him as Cookie walked over to him.

"I wasn't expecting my best best network star to return so soon," he happily addressed her earning him a few embarrassed chuckles.

"Not exactly planned. I uh...Forgot my purse on set again and needed to run in and grab it. Can't exactly feed a bunch of hungry children without it now can I? H-How's the movie auditions so far?"

The penguin sighed and reached a flipper up to his forehead. "Easier said than done. There's the part of the wicked family who still need spaces filled in place, and the handsome prince, not to mention that I still have no one to play the concerned father and we only have a few months to put this together! I can't describe how much pressure I'm feeling..But I have a good feeling that this year will be in our favor for sure!"

Cookie smiled brightly. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find the perfect people to fill those roles soon. You always manage to pull off a wonderful display."

"*sigh* I sure hope so, Dear. I'd hate to have nothing to present for my efforts." His gaze turned up once he noticed movement by the doors as Poppy reached back down to pick her bags back up. "And I see you brought a new friend!" Poppy paused as she was approuched by the eccentric looking fella. "Why HELLO there, Darling! I don't believe we've met!"

"Uh..." Poppy had to blink to actually make sure she was seeing who she was actually seeing before shaking her head and standing up, giving a politely smile. "Howdy! I don't think we've met actually."

The penguin chuckled and shook his head. "We didn't and I never forget a pretty face, Darling. And who might you be?"

"I'm those two's temporarily babysitter," she answered pointed at two of the three children huddled by his side. "Until I can get back on mah feet that is. Kinda starting from scratch after a crazy wake up call."

"Well, it's an honor to meet you Darling." His whole being radiated positivity and his voice despite being loud was very welcoming, making Poppy smile brightly, "I take it this is your first time at a studio?"

She smiled a bit shyly. "I-Is it that obvious? hehe" She reached up to rub the back of her neck. "Uh...Y-Yeah. Do you work here?"

At this the penguin and Cookie shared a chuckle before he spoke. "Well, I should hope so. Or else my name isn't DJ Grooves."

Grooves?....DJ Grooves? As in THE Mr. Grooves Cookie had spoken about before? OH! He must've been the director she spot about earlier, that would've explained the way he dressed. This guy was a walking fat cat with deep pockets, but he looked rather friendly and cheerful to her. And not to brag, but she did have a good judge of character usually.

"OH! So YOU'RE this Mr. Grooves I've heard so much about."

He chuckled. "So you heard a lot about me? I'm flattered, Darling. Really I am-" He was interrupted when a rumble sounded out and Poppy grabbed at her stomach embarrased. "...Oh my, my, my. Hungry are we?"

"I haven't eaten since breakfast and we've been running around all day."

"Well, then I better get back there and find that darned thing." Cookie turned to Mr. Grooves with a smile. "Ya'll don't mind if I just run to the back real quick like and grab it do you?"

"Not at all, Darling. Be my guest." Cookie smiled and without another word turned and ran off towards the door on the fair right of the room. The giant thing creaked open and closed behind her as she disappeared into the area behind it. Poppy watched her go behind sighing and stretching out her back from the now uncomfortable weight of the heavy used farm equipment on her, but her attention went back to Mr. Grooves when he pointed towards the counter and spoke again. "Darling, if you want you can just place these bags right on over there with the other random things we brought in today. You look redder than an apple on the sun."

She nodded yes reaching up a hand to wipe at her face. "I feel like a baked apple too. ...Ya sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all, Darling. Not at all. Why don't you go do that and I'll have one of my assistants bring you out a glass."

"Well, if you're really sure."

She smiled and lugged her way over to the counter by the crate and weird machine thing. Placing the bags down by the crate, she shimmied the golf club bag of farming tools off her shoulders and into her hands, leaning them all carefully against the big ol' machine thing next to them. Sighing that her back didn't have weight on it anymore she stretched it out making her back pop. A few giggles made her look back over towards the small group of girls around the penguin. Bow was still pouting looking down at the clothes in disgust but looked up when the penguin adjusted the sunhat on her head, she looked up at him and Mr. Grooves said something to her. Poppy couldn't hear exactly what he said but it put a smile on Bow's face and he patted her head with a flipper. A smile returning to her face at the cute scene in front of her. A small creaking noise came from her left, and Poppy didn't notice the expensive camera starting to lean from the weight of her tools.

BAM!!

A loud bang filled the room but strangely enough, barely anyone flinched or looked up from it. As if used to hearing large booming noises in the studio. The only ones who reacted was Mr. Grooves, the girls, and Poppy. Poppy all but jumped out of her skin backing against the counter and whirling towards the source of the sound, the girls seemed to flinch, and Mr. Grooves only casually looked over towards the left side of the studio. There the other giant pair of double doors had been kicked open and slammed into the walls, a moment later a very angry......Yellow owl?? Stomped out and behind him followed some regular Express Owls holding various items or just following. .....Wat? Poppy had to blink as the small whatever he was stomped over near to where she was standing and starting barking demands all of a sudden.

"You three grab the bloody camera and make sure ye pecknecks keep a tight grip on it! I nae need me raw footage damaged in anyway!" His head turned as he barked orders to the owls who jumped and nodded at their bosses demands. "Good! Can't count on you all to do anything without me tellin' ye to cannae?"

Well THAT was rude. Poppy frowned at the rude little whatever he was and still didn't notice the large machine next to her lean over even more. Neither Poppy, the owls, or whoever this small yellow guy was(who was still yelling at the poor owls through all of this might I add) noticed the heavy duty camera leaning over or the glamerous penguin waltz on over towards him with a smile until they all reacted at his voice. The owls stopping, the yellow bird thing freezing for a few seconds, his fist shaking and slowly closing into fists, and his head snapping to peer over his shoulder, and Poppy looking over blinking.

"Conductor, Darling. You mustn't be so loud. It disturbs the peace and scares potential clients away," Mr. Grooves calmly spoke to this person. "You know I'm still expecting others to answer my casting calls."

Wait. Didn't Cookie also mention a Conductor? Huh. So this must be him. Not gonna lie, not a good first impression to her if she said so herself. Conductor huffed and turned his whole body turned to completely face the calm moon penguin now.

"Tis NAE of your business ye no good puffy haired peckneck!!," Conductor shouted while pointing a hand at Mr. Grooves. He was loud enough to make Poppy wince. "Why don't ye badger off and leave me to my worrrrrk!!"

"Darling, I would love nothing MORE than to leave you alone undisturbed," Mr. Grooves insisted calmly holding up his flippers, "All I ask is that you don't make such a ruckus in the lobby so my interviewers don't get scared off."

"HA!! Ye still going on 'bout that nonsense! Like anyone would rrrreally want to be in some techno sore to the eyes picture like yours!"

"Well that's not true at all. I have a gentlemen coming in tomorrow to see for the part of the Father in my little play. "

"HA!! The third one in a row? By this rate, ye won't be able to show ye face at the Award Ceremony for judging!" He smiled this time and crossed his arms.

"Now, now. There's still lots of time. And I'm going for something far more simple this year. A little change of style but still fabulous if I do say so myself."

"HMPH!! Well I say ye are full of birdseed if you think you have an inch of chance as usually! Another second place trophy would be more fitted! AHAHAHA!!"

Poppy could feel herself frowning at his words. Well that was really uncalled fore especially since Mr. Grooves wasn't being rude at all back or making a big scene like Conductor was. CREAAAAAAAAAAKKKK!! Hey...What was that creaking sound? Or was her ears ringing from the earlier screaming.

"Ye should give up now and save ye some trouble! With me raw footage it's surrrre to be in me favor."

CRREEEEEEEEEEEEE-

A giant creaking sound echoed out in a black blur as the giant camera leaned over and tipped. Owls hooted in fear as they scrambled out of the way as all eyes looked over and it seemed time slowed down as it went down, down, down- .....With a loud crash glass and pieces of metal shattered and flew everywhere. On instinct everyone close enough held up their arms and looked away from the shatter, but it was too late. Time slowed down as the camera shattered beyond repair and lots of metal clangs and sounds followed the disaster until it all finally settled piece by piece in front of them all on the floor. Destroyed camera and farming tools splayed on top of it. Everyone stood in shock staring down at the absolutely DESTROYED piece of machinery but that wasn't the last of it. A few sparks from the top of the camera shot out .....and then just a tiny spark of flame appeared. Well that tiny flame was enough to send some panic througout everyone there as owls sqawked and gasped back at the sight of the small flame which slowly started to grow causing everone else to get mildly panicked.

"SOME DARLIN' GET A FIRE EXSTINGISHER!!," Mr. Grooves yelled one flipper going up behind him to push back the small group of children behind him.

"STAND BACK!!"

In a fury of feather and blur, a white streak of foam shot out from some random direction and slammed into the flames, successfully putting out the flames with a sizzling sound by none other than the receptionist. The bird who was behind the counter wasn't finished yet as he continued to spray the camera and part of her tools down until it was all white like snow had piled on it and he stopped. Everyone remained in their tense pose for a long while staring at the camera...before some sighed in relief as did Poppy. Well that was certainly a surprise wasn't it? ...But not a very pleasant one by SOMEONE'S standards.

"MY MOVIE!!," Conductor cried recieving all eyes on his as his hands reached up to grab those feathery parts of his head staring dead at the camera in horror. "ALL ME HARD WORKED RRRRRRAW FOOTAGE IS GONE!!! .....AH!! YOU!!" His horror quickly shifted to anger when he snapped towards the fightened owls with an accusing tone. "YOU NO GOOD......FEATHER BRAINED....PPPPPPPEEEEECCKKNNEEEEEECKSSSS!! I TOLD YE TO BE CAREFULL!! NOW LOOK AT WHAT YE DONE TA ME HARRRD WORK!! WAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A BLOODY SHATTERED MESS MADE BY BUBBLING BAFOONS?!"

The owls all froze at their bosses torment as Grooves turned around to ask the little girls if they were alright and Poppy stared. Watching as Conductor continued to shout as he blamed the poor owls for the mess....Blue eyes blinked down to the farming tools laid upon the floor. HER mess. The one she made-

Red eyes and shadows stared at her frightened form as a voice hissed. "Take her to the room and lock her away. ...I can't to look at her for as my prince had done. Perhaps locking away her forever will teach her a lesson about gazing into another man's eyes who belong TO ME!!"

"STOP!! JUST STOP IT WAS MY FAULT!!!"

Blue eyes snapped open at the yell. The yell that made everyone freeze and look at the red head who looked just as shocked and surprised as everyone else at her sudden outburst, but the Conductor wasn't yelling at the owls anymore. Despite him not having eyes, she could still tell he was staring right at her along with everyone else around her in more stunned silence as nobody spole.

".......Wot?"

"So YOU'RE the one responsible for this?," the tallest bird from the counter spoke putting down the fire extingisher and crossed his arms with a frown making Poppy flinch.

Poppy stared at him for a moment but seeing one poor worried looking owl behind him, made her frown before taking a deep inhale...and nodding towards the receptionist without hesitation. "That's right! One hundred peckin' percent!" She boldly pointed to the half foam covered tools by now. "Those are mah tools and it's mah fault the giant whatcha-ma-callit thing fell over 'n broke! Not anyone else's! So don't be yelling at anyone!"

The receptionist stood there for a moment staring at her before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a pen and piece of paper. "Are you willing to pay for the damages? If you chose to claim the damages that is."

She nodded again without hesitation. "I am!"

"Alright." The paper had the same bird skull logo and Dead Bird Studios in bold red words. "Where do you live, Ma'am?"

"Uh...."

"With us!," Hattie piped up.

"Alright." Under the words 'Billing Details' he wrote Red Head Human Woman and the adress Spaceship in the sky 1 6829 this planet, Invoice #: (insert random Owl Express Numbers), Invoice Date: Today, and Currency: Pons. After studying it for a bit he looked back down to the damaged thing with a hum. "Let's see. There was film so that counts under 'Distruping Studio Recordings' which comes to one hundred thousand pons." He wrote under the words 'You Will Be Billed For' as he spoke and looked at the damages caused. "One count of 'Penguin Harrassment' which is five hundred pons. Five cases of 'Owl Harrassment' for two thousand five hundred pons. 'Destruction of Property' oh definately for three thousand. And 'Tresspassing' for seven thousand."

Poppy could only stand there and let her eyes grow and widen in shock at the claims and how much pons this guy claimed she owed for such lunacy. ".......Tresspassing and harassment!? Of what kind?! I wasn't tresspassin' if I was invited in here!! And I wasn't harassing anyone!!''

"Ma'am. I'm only doing my job handling paperwork, and our insurance doesn't cover humans. The moment you stepped on property you became a liability and responisble for paying for any destruction you caused," he explained calmly as if he did this every day. He wrote one other thing down on the paper before holding it out for her. "You owe us one hundred thirteen thousand pons plus tax and another seven hundred fifty for the expensive high defintion camera to be replaced."

Poppy could only stare and not move at the paper held out to her with wide eyes and an open jaw like there was another cursed statue in front of her. After a moment, the recptionist carefully and calmly put the large bill in her hand and she finally reacted to the movement. with anger and a scowl. "WHY IS THIS SO EXPENSIVE!? I couldn't afford this even if I suddenly turned into solid gold like that roach did!!"

"Like I said, Ma'am. I'm only doing my job. If you like I could call the local court house of law, the lawyers there can assure you the paperwork and damages are all legal."

"Well I still can't PAY for it!.....What if I work off the debt instead? I'm a hard worker I promise."

"Well.....it wouldn't be the first time someone worked it off. But you'll have to speak with the two big bosses about it, not me I'm afraid."

"And they would be?"

"ME!!" She jumped and nearly dropped the paper when the Conductor scowled up at her with anger. "That was MY movie ye destrrrroyed with yer no good foolishness! If ye are gonna work it away ye better be ready to receive some hard work thrown at ye from meself!!''

".......No."

Silence. You could hear a pin drop as everyone in the studio of hearing range completely stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards the scene before them with wide eyes. Completely shocked into silence as they all stared at the human alike. Penguins, Express Owls, the two children, and even both the directors seemed to be shocked into the dumb silence as they all gawked at the frowning red haired lady staring at the Conductor. THE CONDUCTOR!! NO ONE BUT DJ GROOVES HAD EVER SAID NO TO THE CONDUCTOR BEFORE!! (except Hattie that one time in the basement but we don't talk about that not that anyone outside of the little girl, and a few of her friends knew) But now it seemed everyone was too shocked seeing a new person say no to the famously hot headed owl. One owl staring completely let the script she was holding fall from her hands and land scattered at her feet as everyone watched jaws dropped. Eventually Confuctor was the one to break the awkward silence by what else, his famous yeling. "WOT!?," he shouted and stared at her. "An' why not?! Ye are the one who cost me mah raw footage! That was ten days of haarrrrrrd work I ain't nah gettin' back, Las!" The red head crossed her arms and didn't change her expression. "I know and I am terribly sorry I caused you so much trouble in that department. But I refuse to work with someone so rude and treats the employee's who's workin' hard trying to help him by calling them useless! Obviously you're a terrible boss who treats anyone helping him with no respect, and I would feel terrible! Being in one of your movies knowing that, Sir." The girls exchange silent shocked glances behind Poppy as she turned her head towards the damaged camera. "....If it's the material that I damaged I would gladly pay in anyway I can. But only on the basis you apologise to those you've wronged, Mr. Conductor. But don't you go thinkin' I'll do anything before I know I'll be treated with respect!" Conductor's. Jaw. DROPPED!! Obviously not used to anyone other than that ridiculous long time rival of his speaking to HIM. HIM!!! In such a brass and demanding manner and it took a moment for him to even process what she just said but in a moment his temper flared up in a moment's notice as those feathery appendages on his head wriggled and he pointed at the penguin director as the other fist clenched into a fist as he demanded. Mr. Grooves blinking surprised at the sudden action "Bu-Bu-Bu-BUT WHAT COULD BE SOOOO SPECIAL ABOUT 'EM DOWN RIGHT EYE SORE OF A SO CALLED MOVIE!? YE GARBAGE NEVER COULD GET OFF YE GROUND IF DJ GRRRRRROOOOVES HAD ALL ETERNITY AND BECAME PRRRRRRESIDENT OF YE BOX OFFICE!!" "That's not true! I actually saw one of his movies myself." "YE DID WOT!?" "You ...did?," Grooves shifted his funny glasses wearing face up towards her just as confused as the angry owl man. Poppy nodded. "Yes. I. Did. And to be perfectly honest, I didn't think it was that bad. In fact, it was really interesting. Maybe not the 'best' by bird standards, but by human standards the story was really easy to understand for someone who honestly doesn't really know a whole darn lot 'bout these fancy lights, or high tech stuff, or..." She waved a hand off shrugging. "Or whatever ratings are. And a struggling career was relatable for someone who's been struggling with a lot happening." Conductor was sputtering and made some kind of funny bird sqawking noise before some of the feathers around his collar ruffled up in rage and he jabbed a thumb at himself. "WELL MAH MOVIES ARE NOTHIN' TO SHY FROM EITHER, LASSIE!! RRRRESPECTIVELY THAT AYE AM THE ONE TO MAKE IT ON TOP ALL YE TIME!!" Her face frowned again as she looked down at the older bird with a harsher scowl. "MY respect, SIR, is earned. Not GIVEN! And so far you've done absolutely NOTHING to earn it! Yelling like a baby who didn't get their candy and throwing a fit is not the way to do that! You just come off to me as a spoiled old man who doesn't know the word no even existed!" "WHAT'S SO SPECIAL ABOUT THE BLOODY PECKNECK ANYWAYS!?," He demanded fuming. "If you can't respect him as your rival then the least you could do is respect him as another person in your profession. As far as I've seen he's been nothin' but polite and kind to everyone and considering he's not in mah face yellin' like a baby bird for his mama is somethin' I respect." With a huff of that sass Snatcher would've loved to see she closed her eyes, and turned her head away with her nose stuck up. "I will start RESPECTING you as an adult when you ACT like one and apologize and decide to stop throwing a tantrum and embarrassing yourself! Because the truth be told I think YOU'RE the only peckneck in this studio." More silence settled around the entire place as Conductor dropped his jaw and the only sound that came out of him was something that sounded like 'A-Ah...ah..ah ah ah.....' in a stuttery way. Hattie's eyes were wide and Bow's hands had come to cover her mouth in a dramatic way. If Snatcher was there, Hattie would have no doubt he would've started laughing loudly at the look on the old bird's face. In fact, she could almost hear it now. A deep rumbling chuckle-....But wait. Snatcher's voice wasn't deep? It was high and raspy. Then who was-... A cold flipper patted Poppy on the back making her hum and look next to her to find the afro wearing penguin chuckling...before laughing a deep but loud laugh that filled the room with an almost joyful mood. That seemed to snap the Conductor from his trance and glared in the laughing penguin's direction. After a moment, Mr. Grooves stopped and turned his gaze up to Poppy with a smile. "Darling! I never could've said that any better than how you did!" He patted her back again. "You know. I like you already, Darling. My little stars usually have great taste in character and I see they didn't spare any expense in making another darling friend. What did you say your name was again?" ......She blinked but smiled at the happy moon penguin politely. "Poppy Rose Bloomington. You can call me Poppy, Mr. Grooves." Grooves hummed for a moment looking at her up and down for a moment before turning to the glaring Conductor and the broken camera lying a few feet away in pieces. "Was that footage really that important to you Conductor, Darlin'?" "OF COURSE IT WAS YOU PE-" "There's children here." Conductor's feathery appendeges went back as he growled. "YES! It was half me movie! It cannae be so simply replaced with the secret idea I was goin' for! All the time I spent on it cannae be replaced in time of the award ceremony!" The penguin hummed and brought his other flipper up to rub the bottom of his beak staring at the camera with a thoughtful expression...before looking back up to Poppy. "I'm afraid he's right, Darlin. I've known Conductor long enough to know one thing he never does is lie about his movies, even if he does brag while doing so in such a rude manor." "HMPH!! OF COURSE I DONAE!!" Grooves just rolled his eyes. "Even so, I think we should help him." "YE WOT!?" Conductor glanced surprised at the penguin like he won the trophy all of a sudden. "What kind of nonsense are ye blabbering about now?" Grooves turned to him staring, before tilting his head down wear his sunglass slid down enough to reveal some of his eyes in a deadpanned expression. "Believe it or not, Darling, I don't like unfair advantages." Conductor just stared blankly at him. " But I'm sure my little stars here could help out with anything you may need." Bow lit up with a smile. "Yeah! I'd love to help!" "Don't you have a back up plan like you usually do?" "Of course Ah do! I ain't no dummy." "Well, there you go, Darling." He reached up to push his glasses back into place. "I'm sure you'll put together something spectacular like you always do." "......B-B-But..What are the damages!? Ye camera cost the studio over a thousand pons! I cannae just look past that!," he argued back pointing at the shattered thing. And Grooves hummed again. "I'm afraid you're right about that too. Frankly, these kinds of ones aren't too easily to come across."........In a moment he smiled and looked up to Poppy. "I know! She can work for me as payment for those damages." Poppy blinked with a surprised expression as did most of everyone else but at the thought of Poppy being in a movies both young girls suddenly looked even more excited. Conductor on the other hand- "ABABABABABA!! Hang on a pecking second! THE LASS WORK FOR YE FOR DAMAGING MAH FILM?!" "I-I AM?!," Poppy asked whirling wide eyed to the moon penguin director. "Yes. Cuz quick frankly it might've been your film, but it was on OUR shared expensive studio high definition camera, Darling. She can easily pay off any debt she owes for the camera and your footage by working and her pay going to the repairs and reienbursment for any misguided accidents." The Conductor growled again and went to probably argue some more- "Tick tock, Darling. You don't want to waste anytime fighting when there's a deadline to meet. It looks like you'll be needing to step up your game." "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! FINE!!" The tiny bird man turned and began stomping away towards the owl's side of the studio. "WHAT ARE ALL YE LOOKING AT!? SOMEONE BRING ME MAH BACK UP SCRIPT!! CHANGE THE SETS TO OUTSIDE SCHEDUALED!! SOMEONE INFORRRRRRM THE OTHER'S WE'RE GOIN' WITH PLAN B THIS YEAR!!! AND SOMEONE GET THAT SMASHED HUNK O' JUNK CLEANED UP!!" The owl's scrambled to grab anything they needed to grab and quickly follow the fuming bird boss as DJ Grooves chuckled and shook is head. "Don't feel too bad about the Conductor, Darling. He's usually all talk and no bite." Hattie giggled. "Yeah! He's a crazy, grumpy grandpa!" Both Grooves and Bow chuckled at Hattie's description of the old bird, but none of them noticed frozen and mildly panicked form. Her?! In a movie?! Where millions of people could see her?! WHAT HAD SHE GOTTEN HERSELF INTO NOW?!

#ABloomInTime #Snatcher #The Florist #Florist #a hat in time florist #a hat in time the florist #A hat in time the florist x snatcher #A hat in time florist x snatcher #a hat in time snatcher #A hat in time snatcher x florist #a hat in time snatcher x the florist #Snatcher x the florist #snatcher x florist #the florist x snatcher #florist x snatcher

[yusuke-of-valla]

The Best Laid Plans (Are Not Thought of in Half A Second)

[a/n]: I finally wrote that hurt/comfort! This was supposed to be like 500 words but it got away from me.

Set vaguely in some period during Strikers before Zenkichi joins because I’m not that far into the game

TW: concussions, falling off of high places, descriptions of injuries that get healed via Persona magic

AO3

~

“Mine, mine, mine!” the High Pixie giggles, the desires it’s stolen floating around its head. The Phantom Thieves try to cut a path towards it, but the horde of other shadows just won’t stop coming. It doesn’t help that the cramped rooftops of the Shibuya jail don’t leave a lot of room to maneuver. 

Yusuke grunts, parrying shadows left and right. Just when he’s cleared through enough of them to have a second to breathe, he spots a shadow lunging towards Ryuji, who's too busy fending off three other shadows to notice.

At first Yusuke tries to summon Goemon, but he’s met with a gnawing hole in his mind as he realizes he can’t remember how.

Forget spell, fantastic.

The shadow trips Ryuji with it’s baton, tripping him. It’s about to charge a spell, so Yusuke grits his teeth and runs forward to tackle it before it can get another hit in.

The good news is he does cause the shadow to stumble, and it’s attack just misses Ryuji. 

The bad news is the shadow stumbles backwards.

Over the edge of the building.

And it pulls Yusuke down with it.

Yusuke feels the shadow dissolve right before he crashes into the ground. 

Everything hurts.

Well, Yusuke thinks, struggling to force himself onto his back, at least the shadow’s dealt with. 

Spots dance in Yusuke’s vision, and each breath is accompanied by a sharp pain in his chest. He thinks he can just make out the sound of someone screaming, but that might just be the ringing in his ears.

I think I’ll just wait for the others, is the last thought that crosses his mind before Yusuke passes out.

*

Ryuji just barely clocks Yusuke straight up tackling a shadow, and is about to thank him for the save when Futaba screams and Ryuji realizes:

Oh. 

There’s no more roof there.

The battle seems to slow down as everyone stares at the part where Yusuke went over the side.

The first to move is the High Pixie. 

“Mine!” it squeals, swooping down and scooping Yusuke up under one arm. He’s barely moves and is pretty banged up. “All mine!” The shadow starts to fly off, and that snaps the rest of the Phantom Thieves into action.

“Um, I think the fuck not.” Ann shouts, quick to wrap her whip around the shadow’s leg. 

Sophia follows suit, using her yo-yos to help pull the shadow and Yusuke back towards them. The High Pixie pouts and with a flick of its hand launches the back with a gust of wind.

Ann goes down hard, and Morgana stays back to heal her while Akira starts leaping across rooftops after the shadow, Sophia, Ryuji, and Makoto right behind him. Unfortunately, the High Pixie is fast, and keeps. Eventually they’re stopped by another group of shadows and forced to deal with that.

“Shit,” Akira pants, once the enemies are taken care of and the High Pixie is nowhere in sight. “Oracle can you-”

“No. I can’t pick up the shadow or Yu- Fox.” Futaba says.

“...Alright, we’ll head back to the crossing and see if you can pick up a signal from there, or Mona can sniff out the desires.

Futaba nods stiffly, then starts walking away, fists clenched. Akira and Ryuji share a look, and Ryuji sprints after her. “You ok?”

“Nothing’s happened to me.”

“You know this place is huge, don’t beat yourself up for losing them.” Futaba keeps pushing forward and Ryuji jogs to stand in front of her. “Fox’ll be fine, ok?” he says, patting her on the shoulder.

Futaba stops. “I hope you’re right,” she mutters before pulling away.

They meet back up with Ann, Morgana, and Haru, and all head to the crossing.

“I’m picking up the desires!” Morgana announces. “I think the smell’s coming from Maruku City.”

They leap from car to car across the crossing until they’ve arrived. Once they reach their destination, Futaba perks up.

“Got it,” Futaba announces. “I think the shadow made a nest at the top of the keep.”

“Do you have a read on Fox?” Makoto asks.

“...Yeah.” Futaba says. “He’s not worse than he was before he fell, at least.”

“Good job Oracle,” Akira says.

“We should try and draw the shadow’s attention,” Makoto suggests. “That way someone can grab Yusuke while it's occupied.”

Akira nods. “Queen, you,  Panther, and Noir are with me. Once we have its attention, the rest of you guys grab Fox and get him out of the line of fire. Skull can take the lead.”

Everyone nods, then the two groups split up. Akira’s group sneaks around the base of the keep, out of sight. The High Pixie is floating around the top, pleased with itself. Once it’s in position, Akira shoots. 

The High Pixie is instantly caught off guard, and before it gets the chance to call for backup, Haru follows up, knocking the shadow to the ground. While they go all out attacking the shadow, the others race up the steps of the keep.

.Pennants, broken decorations, a skateboard, some stolen desires, and a bunch of other random knick knacks are scattered around. Yusuke’s lying on the ground looking much paler than usual. Ryuji notices Futaba’s shoulders relax when Sophia and Morgana start to heal him up.

Yusuke’s eyes flutter open as the color comes back to his face. “Where...” 

“You got nabbed by that shadow after your swan dive.” Futaba explains, kneeling down next to him.

“O...k…?” Yusuke starts to sit up, but Futaba stops him.

“Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself more.”

“Did you have to be so loud?” 

“Excuse me? You do not get to complain about your rescue.”

Yuuske just groans, closes his eyes, and lies back down.

“Uggh. Stupid Inari. Mona, Sophie, heal him again so Skull can carry him.” Futaba says. They do, and Yusuke’s breathing starts to get better. Ryuji picks him up carefully,  and with some help from Futaba and Sophie, get Yusuke onto Ryuji’s back. 

“My head hurts…” Yusuke mutters, laying his head on Ryuji’s shoulder.

“Well, that will happen when you dive over the side of the building.”

“‘S just… trying to help.”

“I know, and I appreciate it, but for now let’s get you out of here.” Not wanting to risk Yusuke falling off Ryuji’s back and taking another fall, they back head down the steps. More shadows have shown up while the others fought the High Pixie, so Morgana clears the way for Futaba, Ryuji, Yusuke while Sophie covers their backs. 

Once they’re a safe distance from the keep Ryuji sets Yusuke down on the ground.

“Ok. You’re safe now.” Futaba says, taking a deep breath. “So seriously, what were you thinking?”

“Do you have to be so loud?” Yusuke mutters.

“I’m not being loud.”

“Are you sure?” Yusuke replies, squeezing his eyes shut.”My ears are ringing.”

“Oracle, step aside for a second?” Sophia asks. Futaba does, and Sophia neals down next to Yusuke. “What is your name and how old are you?”

“17 years old.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

Yusuke blinks. “The… Shibuya Jail?”

“What year is it?”

Yusuke frowns. “I’m not…”

Sophia nods. “Ok, I’ve got it. Based on his symptoms, Fox has a concussion.”

“Concussion…” Yusuke repeats. “Alright, I’ll just take a nap then-”

“No sleeping!” Futaba snaps. 

Yusuke winces.

“Sorry,” Futaba says, quieter. “But I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion.” She pulls out a soda and hands it to Yusuke. “C’mon, try and have something to drink.”

“Thanks.”

The sound of the High Pixie being defeated rings out, and soon enough the rest of the team joins them.

“Are you alright?” Haru gasps as soon as she sees Yusuke. 

“Not so loud, please. Concussion.” 

“Sorry!” Haru whispers.

“You’re fine.”

“He has a concussion?” Makoto asks, kneeling down next to Yusuke.

Sophia nods. “Most likely. He has demonstrated several symptoms, such as headaches, a ringing in his ears, dilated pupils, and disorientation.”

“Healing spells haven’t worked?”

“We’ve used a bunch and he hasn’t gotten better.”

“Could be because it’s a head injury, and those are weirder than just healing a cut or something,” Futaba suggests. “Or it could be that Yusuke was so banged up there’s a limit to what can be healed at once.”

Makoto sighs. “Fair enough, it’s not like we’ve ever had to treat a concussion in the Metaverse before. We should take him to a hospital.”

“Sounds good,” Akira says, watching the desires the High Pixie had stolen return to their owners. “We’re done here anyway.” He and Ann help Yusuke up, and they leave the Metaverse.

*

Several hours later, Futaba’s pacing is the only noise in the RV. “What is taking them so long?!”

They were crowding the ER, so Makoto stayed in the hospital to answer their questions while everyone else went back to the RV. 

“Makoto said Yusuke’s gonna be fine.” Akira says, petting Morgana. “They just have to wait for Zenkichi.” According to Makoto, the doctor confirmed Yusuke had a concussion and should be observed for the next 24 hours, but they wouldn’t let him out of the hospital without a parent or guardian. So, they’d called up Zenkichi.

“Maybe it got worse somehow! That happens you know, someone looks like they’re fine, and then suddenly they’re not.” 

“Futaba, there’s no need to get so worked up,” Haru says.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you saw what I saw!” Futaba snaps. “Necronomicon showed me all of Yusuke’s vitals, I knew exactly what happened to him after he fell. He broke pretty much everything.” Futaba shudders. “One nudge in the wrong place and a rib could pierce a lung or something, if that hadn’t happened already. He had a hip fracture too, do you know how bad those can be? He might never have walked again before Morgana and Sophia healed him, and even after all of that he wasn’t even healed all the way! If we hadn’t gotten there in time-”

Futaba pulls off her glasses and wipes her eyes.

“Futaba,” Ann says, pulling her into a hug. “It’s gonna be ok. Yusuke’s walking, he’s breathing fine, and he just needs to rest, ok? We were able to find him quickly because you picked up his signal.”

“Not to mention you stopped him from hurting himself more when we found him.” Ryuji adds. “Yusuke’s gonna be fine, and he’s gonna be fine because you were there to help him. We just gotta hold on, ok?”

“I didn’t realize I worried you so much, Futaba.”

Everyone turns to see Yusuke, Makoto, and Zenkichi standing in the doorway.

“Yusuke!” Futaba pulls away form Ann and grabs a bag from the hospital gift shop. “That was so stupid of you,” she says, pushing a “Get Well” Mothman plush into Yusuke’s arms.

“Sorry.”

“Well, I mean, you did save Ryuji’s butt so you don’t have to be too sorry.”

“Yeah dude, I totally appreciate that,” Ryuji agrees.

“I just wished you saved him using your Persona instead of, you know, yeeting yourself off a roof.” Futaba points out.

“I couldn’t, I was hit with a forget spell.” Yusuke pouts.

“You could've used your gun.”

Yusuke doesn’t say anything.

“Did you seriously forget about your gun?”

“I forgot we were on a roof, Futaba, clearly I forgot about a lot of things.” Yusuke says, hugging the Mothman plush defensively. “I’m really sorry though. I tried to help and only created more problems for all of you, and now you’ll be shorthanded-”

Morgana jumps onto the table in front of Yusuke. “Hey none of that. Let us worry about you for a few days, ok?”

“Yeah dude,” Ryuji says. “I say, let’s just blame the shadow and it’s weird desire to hoard things, and go out to eat instead.”

“Um, maybe a loud, bright, busy, restaurant isn’t the best place to take the concussed teenager?” Zenkichi points out.

“Good point,” Makoto says. “Guess you can get us take out then.”

“Are you-” Zenkichi sighs. “Fine, alright. What do you want?”

“I could go for some yakisoba,” Yusuke says. 

“I want sushi!” Morgana adds. 

“I’m feeling like nikuman, actually,” Haru adds.

“You know what? Just text me your orders,” Zenkichi says. “Call if you need anything else. But you kids stay safe ok? I have no clue what happens when you do your whole... thing , but you know, don’t get yourselves killed?”

“Gotcha!” Akira says.

Once Zenkcihi leaves, Futaba turns to the group. “Now, it’s on to Operation: Take Care of Inari.”

Yusuke looks up from his Mothman plush. “You don’t have to do that, I can handle myself.”

“Nope. Part of being on a team means you have to put up with us looking after you.”

The rest of the Thieves nod in agreement, and Yusuke sighs. Looks like there’s no fighting this.

“Fine,” he says, smiling. 

They eventually agree on settling down to watch a movie— Yusuke’s choice— and eat their dinner on the floor of the RV in the middle of a large pillow fort. 

“Thank you..” Yusuke says under his breath, leaning into his blanket and his friends’ warmth.

#alto writes #persona 5 #p5s #wordcount: 2000-2500 #hurt/comfort #injuries tw #sad art boi hours #yes this goes with the picture i drew

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Knitting

Summary: Ford finally musters up the courage to ask Mabel to teach him something he desperately wants to learn.

Requested by both @starpossum and @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat. Thank you both so much, and I hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had no reason to be so nervous as he stood as stiff as a board and tried to steady his racing heart, but he was. Maybe not as nervous as he was to walk into the principal’s office alone or when he was about to present his project to the college representatives, but a bit nervous. About what? Judgement? Rejection? But that was ridiculous! She was one of the most caring, open-minded, loving people Ford had ever met in his sixty years of living, in any dimension he had come across. Surely he was about to enter a safe domain. Taking advantage of his sudden flock of courage, Ford pushed open the screen door and let it creak to warn his grandniece of his upcoming presence.

Mabel was sitting on the couch as the early-morning sun shined through the trees, just recently risen. Ford smiled at seeing the thirteen-year-old girl knitting quietly with Waddles asleep by her side, a perfect way to start the day. Mabel looked up and instantly made a huge grin at her grunkle; this wasn’t the first time the two early birds had graced each other with their presence and she hoped it wouldn't be the last. “Hi, Grunkle Ford!”

“Good morning, Mabel.” Ford sat by her side on the couch and looked down at her work. Like every morning, she was knitting a sweater. While most of the time she knitted for herself, occasionally she would knit for someone else. “What are you working on today?”

Mabel held up her half finished sweater, which was black with a skull on it, a bit edger than her usual taste and it certainly caught Ford by surprise. “I’m working on my Summerween daytime sweater. And I can wear this at the vampire concert I’m going to this Saturday.”

“Oh,” Ford said and shrugged with a smile. “Well, be sure to eat something with lots of garlic before you go.”

“Don’t worry, Grunkle Stan already promised that he’ll make spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner that night.”

Ford chuckled lightly, “That should keep you safe,” and ruffled her hair gently. Silence fell between them comfortably as Mabel worked blindly, her eyes admiring nature at it’s finest, and Ford did the same, though his mind was elsewhere.

This was stupid. This was preposterous. This was ridiculous. This was ludicrous. This was absurd. Suddenly he was almost too apprehensive to talk to his own family, but why? Surely it wasn’t due to a lack of bravery; he had faced thousands of monsters and even an all-knowing braid demon. No, the fact was that Ford was far more afraid of the smallest possibility that Mabel would turn him down or laugh or deny his request than he was afraid of anything in the Multiverse. But really, the possibility that Mabel would say no was laughable, so he steadied himself with a quiet intake of breath and said quietly to have her attention, “Mabel?”

“Uh, huh.” She said and looked up at him and even paused her knitting to give him her undivided attention. Ford somewhat wished she hadn’t.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his turtleneck a little to try to make it easier to breathe. “Would it be… erm, I mean, I understand you’re a very busy young lady, but… I-I-I would be honored if you would find… um, I mean, if you would take the time to walk me through the details on how to create sweaters by hand.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. Ford misread her facial expression and quickly looked away. He could feel heat rising in his face uncomfortably. “You… want me to teach you how to knit?”

“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to, I fully anticipated that you would much rather…”

“GRUNKLE FORD, I WOULD LOVE TO!” Mabel threw herself into Ford, catching him by surprise, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting almost a year for this moment! I’m so happy you wanna learn how to knit! What made you wanna learn?!”

“Oh,” Ford was still slightly too flustered to communicate properly, but he tried. “I… I suppose you inspired me t-to give it a try, y-y-you know?”

Mabel squeezed him and then let go to grin at him “Well then you came to the right gal! Give me a second, I’ll be right back with everything!” And very soon she was gone.

Ford smiled at himself, feeling a bit stupid. Of course Mabel would be delighted in teaching a loved one how to perform a task she had mastered. But still, he had been waiting to ask her for so long now and had built up the moment in his head that of course his insecurities would ram their ugly head.

Mabel came back with a suitcase filled to the brim and a messenger bag over her shoulder that was decorated with buttons. Ford raised an eyebrow as Mabel let the suitcase sit on the floor and she zipped it open. He was amazing to find dozens of balls of yarn arranged in rainbow order in the suitcase.

“Okay! It’s very important when you knit to work with colors you like.” Mabel instructed as she sat next to him on the couch. “You’re going to be looking at your yarn for a long time, you don’t wanna pick a color you’re gonna get sick of, so pick any color you want!”

“That makes sense.” Ford complimented and held his cleft chin in thought. There were so many colors it was like he was at a craft store. One caught his eye and he happily picked up a blue ball of yarn with white freckles in it. “I think I’ll use this one.”

“Oo! That’s pretty! Okay,” Mabel picked up a dark-green ball of yarn and rested it in her lap. She rummaged through her messenger bag, which from the soundso fi t was full of knitting needles, and she pulled out a pair of orange average-sized needles. “There’s different sizes of needles for what you wanna make, but this is a good beginner’s set. You can keep them if you want.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Ford said, quite excited now that he had the materials he needed to work. “So how do we make a sweater?”

Mabel giggled innocently and elbowed the sleeping pig. “Waddles, you hear that, Grunkle Ford is so cute.” She stopped her laughing to gently guide her student. “Sweaters are really hard, you have to master knitting first before you do something that complicated. The best thing to knit first is a scarf or maybe a hat if you’d rather make a hat.”

“Oh.” Ford did feel a little foolish to think one could go from not knowing how to knit to making sweaters, but he smiled was was excited to learn how to make several articles of clothing. “Very well, I think a scarf would be perfect!”

“Great!” Mabel picked up her ball of yarn and said, “First, you wanna find the tail, it’s usually tucked inside… right there, perfect! Now unwind some, you’ll need a few feet to get started. That’s good, perfect! Now, I’ll go ahead and warn you, getting started is harder than the actual knitting, so if you can get the ball rolling you’ll be gold!”

“Okay, so…”

“Right. First, you wanna make a rainbow… yes! Now cross the ends over like this… good! Then, you see this part of the string? Pinch your fingers, poke them through, grab that part, and pull it through. That’s it, you’re got it! That’s the main hoop, you put it through your needle and pull it tight, like this.”

Together the pair hooked on their first hoop and Mabel smiled proudly. “Good, now grab the long part of the yarn, not the tail, that’s the one! Now what you wanna do is twist it around your fingers, like this.” And Mabel demonstrated it on her hand. Thankfully it mostly consisted of her thumb and pointer finger, so Ford was able to copy it exactly. “Yes, good, now do you see this little hole? Just gently poke your needle through, and pull it off. Watch.” Mabel showed Ford what to do and Ford carefully copied her. He was delighted to see he successfully made another loop, and so he did it again and again.

“Wow, you’re a fast learner!”

“Well I had an amazing teacher.” Ford complimented.

Mabel blushed and said, “Okay, so these loops are how wide the scarf will be, see? So the more loops you make, the thicker it’ll be, so when it’s thick enough you stop. Don’t forget, yarn is fluffy, so it’ll be thicker than this first row.”

Ford nodded to show his understanding and thought of how thick he wanted the scarf. He made about twenty or so loops and then said, “I think that’s good?” He gave her a look that matched his questionable tone perfectly.

Mabel looked down at his work and grinned and nodded. “That looks great! Your scarf is gonna look so cute! Right, now to learn how to knit! This is a pretty basic stitch, but it’s a universal… nevermind, it’s an interdimensional stitch.” She joked. “Once you learn this you know the basics on how to make a bunch of stuff.”

“Okay, got it.” Ford held his opposite needle, excited to learn how Mabel can make clothes like magic by simply hitting two sticks together.

“Now, you see that big hole? The one the loop made?” Mabel asked, and when Ford nodded, she instructed, “Put your needle through that, just a little. Good, now loop the yarn around the new needle. Perfect! Now watch, this is the tricky part. There’s a second, smaller hole you need to pull your new needle through to make the knot. It’s right between the needle and the new loop. You poke it through, and pull. Watch me a few times, okay? You poke, loop, poke, and pull. Poke, loop, poke, and pull.”

“Hm,” Ford watched Mabel make a few stitches and tried to understand the smaller hole she was talking about. He gave it a try and thought he found the hole, but it was too tight and he couldn’t move his needle. He tried it again and found a looser hole he could work it, and when he pulled it made a stitch just like Mabel’s. Ford grinned and tried it again and was delighted to find it could do it successfully more than once. “I think I’ve got it…”

“You do!” Mabel watched him knit a few stitches and hugged him around the neck again. “I’m so proud of you, wow! Look at you go! Now just be careful not to split the yarn, like that. See, it’s okay, just unhook it, there you go. Now you just gotta do that over and over again. It’s kinda like typing, it’s easier the more you do it. Pretty soon you’ll be able to knit without looking!”

“Wow, this is incredible.” Ford marveled as he finished his first line and ran a finger over the stitches; it looked and felt like something Mabel would have made. “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome!” Mabel said as she knitted. “I’m just so happy you wanted to learn. Gotta be honest, I thought you’d never wanna knit.”

“Why is that?” He asked, generally curious as to why she would assume that. Had he accidentally given the wrong impression on the activity?

“Dipper tried it once and hated it.” Mabel giggled, but then looked kinda sad at the memory. “I tried to teach him, but he didn’t like the way he had to hold the needles and he couldn’t find the holes and eventually he got frustrated and quit. We hadn’t even finished the first lesson and he decided it wasn’t a Dipper-thing.”

Ford smiled sympathetically and guessed, “And so you predicted that it wouldn’t be a Ford-thing?”

Mabel shrugged apologetically and smiled sheepishly at him. “You and Dipper do like a lot of the same stuff.”

“It’s true that we’re very similar,” Ford admitted. “But we’re not complete copies of each other. I’m just grateful that one bad experience with a student hadn’t caused you to turn down another.” He smiled at her kindly and Mabel giggled and shook her head.

“Never ever. I’m glad you wanted to learn. I just hope you didn’t only wanna learn to spend time with me or cuz you thought I’d want you to. Not that I don’t wanna spend time with you! I do, but I want you to do stuff cuz you think it’s fun, you know?”

“No no, I understand.” Ford nodded. “I truly did want to try to make sweaters and scarfs and hats. It’s true that you inspired me, but I generally was intrigued by the activity and wanted to give it a try.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Mabel said matter-of-factly and gently stopped Ford when he made an incorrect knot and helped him fix it.

As the morning waned on and the day dragged on, despite Mabel leaving to do other things, Ford stayed on that couch knitting. He was very slow and constantly made mistakes, but he felt like he was getting the hang of it and he was having so much fun and was determined to finish what he had in mind. While all he had said to Mabel was true, there was another reason why he had wanted to learn how to knit so badly.

Mabel let his uncle enjoy the new hobby and occasionally praised him and reminded him that if he needed help all he had to do was ask. She said goodnight to him as he continually knitted on that couch and she requested that he not pull an all-nighter. Ford promised he wouldn’t, so Mabel went into her shared bedroom with Dipper for the evening.

The next morning Mabel was yawning into her hand as she cheerfully walked to the kitchen for some orange juice. She was surprised and disappointed to find her Grunkle Ford sipping coffee at the table. Just by looking at his eyes and the way he was sitting and inhaling the coffee Mabel could tell that Ford did not get a full-night’s rest.

“Grunkle Ford, you promised me you wouldn’t pull an all-nighter.” She scolded.

“I didn’t. I just woke up from a nap.” Grunkle Ford said cheerfully. “And good morning to you, as well.”

Mabel rolled her eyes at his cheekiness and she asked, “And how long was your nap?”

“Half an hour.”

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel whined.

“I’m sorry, Mabel,” Ford chuckled amusingly. “But I was working on something very important.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” She asked as she opened the fridge.

“How about a gift for my favorite niece?”

Mabel turned around with the carton of juice in her hand and stared as Ford pulled a wrapped present up from his lap and onto the table.

Mabel had a tradition of making sweaters for Ford and wrapping them and placing them on his couch-made-bed. She would use tons of glitter and a big bow and would sometimes cut the wrapping paper too short and have to cut a second piece to tape over the hole. When Stan and Ford were out sailing and Mabel had to mail them the blankets and sweaters and hats and scarves and gloves and socks she had made them, she filled each and every box with glitter and included handmade cards and drawings and she always put everything she got into her gifts. As you can imagine, when Mabel caught wind that they were sailing in the Arctic Ocean, she was terrified of her favorite old people in the world getting cold and she made it her life;s mission to keep them warm even if she couldn’t hug them.

Ford desperately wanted to do the same for her. In his mind it was so unfair that she had never experienced the overwhelming joy of having someone make something so beautiful just for you. Ford wanted to make something for her he knew she loved and to take the time to wrap it and make it nice for her and to give it to her, not for a holiday or celebration, but just because she deserved it and Ford wanted to do something nice for her.

Mabel put the orange juice on the counter and slowly walked to the table. The present was wrapped in holiday wrapping paper that had reindeer and pine trees all over it. Ford’s math skills really came in handy, seeing how the present was beautifully wrapped, but it had a huge red bow on it and Ford used his really pretty cursive handwriting to spell out on a tag, “For my beautiful Mabel.” Mabel almost felt as if the gift was too pretty to unwrap. Almost. With trembling hands she quietly tore the paper for the gift while Ford rested his cheek on his knuckles and soaked in that star-struck look on Mabel’s face. Totally worth it.

Ford felt a small twinge of worry that she wouldn’t like the gift, but he quickly shoved that away. He wasn’t going to let his insecurities ruin this for himself. Mabel gasped and covered her mouth with shiny brown eyes as she stared at the gift. Really, compared to what Mabel could have done, it was half-decent at best. But it was still a nice scarf. Sure, there is an imperfection here and there, and the ends of the clothing material were bland with no fancy tassel or anything. It was clearly homemade, but the blue yarn was still pretty and the stitches were well made. Not bad for a first attempt, really not bad at all.

However, for Mabel, that scarf was the best gift she had ever received. Ford was startled to see her crying, legitimately crying with sobs behind her hand and tears rolling down her face. “Oh no, Mabel, my dear, don’t cry. It’s alright.”

“It’s so… so beautiful.” Mabel croaked and let Ford scoop her up into his arms. His warm chuckle rumbled against her chest as Ford rubbed circles into her back and she held him tightly. It was stupid to be crying over a scarf, but Mabel knew she wasn’t just crying over the scarf. She sniffed and wiped her tears on Ford’s red sweater and huffed, “Y-You did such a g-g-good job. It’s s-s-so… so pretty.”

Ford’s face felt like it was on fire. He did rinse off when he had finished shaving with fire, right? “Well, credit should be given where credit is due. I learned that all from you, sweetheart.”

Mabel hiccuped a giggle through her tears. It took a moment or two for her to calm down, overwhelmed with gratitude and love, and eventually she wiped her face dry with a tissue Ford had given her and she gently scooped up the blue scarf with white freckles and wrapped it around her neck proudly. “I-I-Is this how I make you guys feel?” She asked.

Ford chuckled and shrugged. “As a matter-of-fact, yes.”

Mabel hugged her scarf and giggled, “Then maybe I should stop.”

Despite the fact that it was obviously a joke, Ford grabbed her by the arms and begged very seriously, “Please don’t ever stop.”

From that day forward Mabel didn’t take off the scarf. Ever. Ford was a little embarrassed when she wore it to bed and wore it with her sweaters and skirts, but he was mostly very thankful she loved it so much. If it was too hot she would rather take off her sweater and wrap it around her waist than take off her gift, and once when she was having a bad day Dipper caught her in Scarfville instead of Sweatertown. When the summer ended Dipper sent the grunkles the new high-schoolers’ first day of school picture and Mabel proudly wore her grunkle’s scarf with her legging, skirt, and t-shirt.

Ford continually worked to improve his knitting and by the time summer came to a close Mabel was able to teach him how to knit a sweater. It took a lot of practice to get it right, but he was immensely proud when he could finally mail her a beautiful sweater that had a Milky Way galaxy on it. Ford was delighted when she texted a picture of her wearing it with a wet smile on her face and the fluffy gifts between the two just kept coming.

#GF #gravity falls #requests #fanfiction #Mabel and Ford bonding #requests are open #MORE SWEATER-TWINS BONDING #Thanks for reading!

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter thirteen: black and silver

“Wow, what a story, honey.”

Sam had arrived into the harbor outside of Avalon right as the rains completely arrived, and she traded in a dollar for four quarters so she could call her mother and give a follow up as to what was going on with her. Once she had arrived at the harbor and took her back to her brand new house, Esmé thus treated her to a nice warm cup of a fusion of chai and black tea: it was tea time at the point anyway.

The house was a cute little cottage nestled in the low hillside that overlooked Avalon and most of the harbor right under a rouse of ponderosa pines and a palm tree: the small yard was decorated in small lush chaparral shrubs and bushes of bright pink pearly Catalina manzanita. Warm heavy wood lined the living room floor and the floor of the small but cozy kitchen; the wall behind them and the small comfy couch was a rich royal blue and carried a couple of framed photographs, one of which was Sam herself as a five year old girl. To the right stood the hallway which extended to her bedroom as well as the guest room and the spacious bathroom. Everything in that house was a warm amber or a royal blue, such that it reminded Sam of the shows in Boston and Providence.

“If I didn't know better, I'd swear we were in New England,” she confessed to her.

“Always wanted to live on Catalina,” Esmé told her as she lifted the tea bag out of the dark blue silver lined tea cup to ensure that it had completed steeping. “And I had a feeling you would like it, too. But the whole thing with Bill, though—that's—” She swallowed and Sam could see the agony in her face. “—I feel like I could've done something had you said something about it to me.”

“Well, see, that's the thing, though, Mom, is—I had no clue what he would do,” she confessed with a shake of her head. “He threw a glass at Belinda's head when they were getting me out of there. Missed her but he threw a glass at her, though! He actually locked me into the house at one point. The boys actually had to bust through a window just to get me out of there. They were about to go over to Germany, too—I'm glad they did because I know that man would've been furious about it. Surprised he never addressed it to me.”

“What's Germany like, by the way?”

“Beautiful. Just gorgeous—like Catalina or upstate New York but cleaner and a bit homelier, though. We were there for a week, and so Alex and I hung out for a full day together at one point. Went through the Black Forest and had authentic European beer on the train, too.” She dared not tell her mother that she left him there at the train station nearby the border to East Germany.

“I'll have to introduce you to him, though,” Sam told her as she held the cup of tea close to her chest. “He's really sweet, Mom.”

“As sweet as Joey was?”

“Sweeter. As kind as Joey is to me, I feel like there was something missing between us, like there needed to be something more there with us.”

“Did you feel any chemistry between the two of you?” Esmé asked her.

“Yeah, I did,” Sam replied. “But—I'm not sure how to explain it, though. All the touches and the little grins he'd show me—you've seen his crooked little smile.”

“Oh, yeah. Just like the man I used to know when your father and I were together at first.”

“Speaking of which... did you ever find him again?”

Esmé shook her head.

“I haven't seen him since your father and I got married,” she confessed. “And he was about to head back up to the northern half of the state, but that's—that's where it starts and ends, though. I couldn't exactly say where he had gone off to or what he planned on doing afterwards.”

The tag on the tea bag dangled off the silvery edge of the cup as she took a sip.

“Mmm—have you tried this tea, Sam? Locally grown. Practically everything here is locally grown and supported. We get things from the mainland, but it's rather endemic, though. It's especially the case over in Two Harbors.”

“This past summer, Louie and I took a road trip from the Bay Area back to Elsinore, and we went all along the coast, along the Pacific Coast Highway and the 1—and he showed me that one part of the Salinas River, right before it gets to the ocean.”

“Oh, I love that part of the state,” she told her, “all along the coastline. I considered moving to outside of Ukiah, right up close to the coastline up there but this place here on Catalina came up and it was an offer I simply could not refuse.”

“Nice little boat ride, too,” Sam added.

“Oh, yes. It's not often, though. Things are pretty self sustainable around here. I figured if it's really something that you wish for, like it's imperative that you return to the mainland, that's probably the one time you go across the Channel with the boat or with the sea plane. Some forty years ago, eight inches of snow fell on the mountain right over here.”

“Wow,” Sam raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah, you don't really think of an island off the coast of California as having snow,” Esmé chuckled. “But it happened. Hawai'i gets snow every so often, too, so does Seattle. And coincidentally, so does the Bay Area. It's nothing like Elsinore or the San Gabriels or northern Nevada, but it does happen every so often, though.” She took another sip of her tea and then shook her head and closed her eyes at the flavor. Sam took a sip herself: rich and subdued at the same time, and almost minty as well, and with a kiss of sugar to augment it a bit.

“Ooh, that's nice,” she remarked.

“See?” Esmé smiled at her and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “So what are they like? The other band you're friendly with now?”

“Testament? They're dark but they're not like... satanic, though. They've got skulls and things surrounding them and their image, but I promise you, they're not satanic, Mom.”

“What are they called again?”

“Testament. I mean, it's even in the name. It should be indicative that they're not satanic.”

“Sounds more like they're about to preach a sermon of sorts,” Esmé confessed. “Like I think of the Old Testament.”

“Preach and give us what for—but not in the way in which Bill did with me, though. Their church is one of—guitars and hard fast music and having fun, too. Having fun with all of us ladies, too.”

Esmé laughed at that.

“Oh, god,” Sam declared and she picked out a delicate pink petit four from the plate on the narrow coffee table next to them, “one time—this was last summer, actually—we were all touring over in Boston and a few ladies were walking past us on the sidewalk and they called the four of us—Marla, Belinda, Zelda, and me—all satanic for hanging out with a bunch of metal boys. And Zelda was like 'yeah, a band called Testament is satanic!' and Marla and I both laughed out loud at that.”

Esmé herself chuckled in response to that as she held her tea cup up to her lips once more. Sam took a bite of the little cake in all of its light fluffiness, and then one more bite of it.

“What are they called again?” she asked her.

“Who, Zelda's band? The Cherry Suicides. It conjures the image of a human sacrifice—like a virgin giving herself up—or simply a woman stabbing herself in the chest.”

“So violent,” she remarked with a shake of her head.

“But that's what makes them so awesome, though. That same night, we were in Boston, and they were allotted right before Anthrax and Testament's sets. They did this song called 'Dead Witches', it was like a seven minute long jam. One minute of hardcore punk and then their guitarist Minerva just launched into this big long solo. Given they're a punk band, their songs are usually only a couple of minutes. But right there, they just showed that they're as a big of a power house as the boys themselves, too.” Sam sipped on the tea again so as to wash down the petit four.

“They're all real nice, too. These four tough looking chicks all the way from Providence, but they're so kind, though. They love their fans and they're easily some of the most polite people I've met.”

“They've been through a lot, too, you said.”

“Yeah, they have! All the break ups and the drama with the record labels and—” Sam shook her head as she thought about Aurora. “Long time coming for them, though. I hope I get to see them again.”

“You're gonna have to go back to the mainland anyways,” Esmé pointed out.

“Yeah, I promised Alex I would.”

“You said he's sweet.”

“Yeah, he is. He's funny—he's the kind of guy you don't really like at first until he finds a way inside of you. He's got this little bit of gray hair over his brow, too. He turned twenty back in September.”

“Twenty years old and he's already going gray?” Esmé gaped at that.

“He's been going gray, though,” Sam pointed out. “I remember him telling me about it but I don't remember the full details, though, except he's had it since he was like fourteen. When we first met him, it was like this little sliver over his brow and now it's this little tuft. It's weird, too, like it's just this little tiny bundle of gray hair on that part of his head, and just that part of his head, too. The rest of his hair is completely solid black.”

“Huh.”

“Aurora told me her—grandmother, I think it was—had something similar to that. No idea what causes it, either.”

“Maybe it's a birthmark. It's a long shot, but it is possible, though.”

“Could be, but—who knows, really.” Sam shrugged her shoulders. “He's been dyeing it, too.”

“Can't blame him,” Esmé admitted. “A boy his age going gray so early—you might as well keep your hair uniform.”

“He says it ages him.”

“And it does, too. I remember the very day your father initially went gray—and yes, it aged him several years. I remember the day I started going gray, too. Can't imagine how it makes him feel.”

They sipped on their tea in unison and the rain outside fell even harder on the rooftop and porch outside.

“I'm gonna assume the other reason why you moved here,” Sam started again, “and not the coastline is because this feels like the quintessential place to write a novel.”

“Exactly!” Esmé declared with a laugh. “There's only a couple thousand people here and no one to bother me, either.”

“Except me of course,” Sam pointed out.

“You're not bothering me, sweetie. You never bother me—if there's anything I can genuinely take away from you living so far away for a few years, it's that I miss having you around.”

“Well, even though I consider New York as my home, I can always ensure a trip out here. I might as well ensure that, anyways: I've got friends out this way.”

“So nice of them to bail you out of there, too.”

“Yeah, I mean—Greg got me out through the back window the first time around and we got down to Alhambra without sparing any expense. And then Eric literally busted through a window to get me out of that house. And then they took me to Germany for a week.”

“And you like the Bay Area, too.”

“The Bay Area is stunning. They took me to the place where Cliff's ashes are spread out—and it just felt like a—a—a pilgrimage of sorts. Eric showed me where he was from. Louie and I took a road trip together down the coastline.”

“And Alex took you home.”

“And Alex took me home, right,” she echoed, that time in a soft voice. “And he was in Aurora's wedding, too...”

Maybe she had in fact been far too hard on him as she sipped on the tea some more. She thought of him over there on the mainland, with the guys all around him. She hoped that, since she was on Catalina with her mother and not over there with them, that Bill would keep his distance from Reseda. She knew that he was far and away from there, and yet that fear still lingered over her.

At the same time, she began to think about Joey again and moreover, how in the world he managed to find a new woman to substitute her back home back East. The only way he would have found out is if someone back there told him, and as far as she knew, Louie never approached him once. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to her. The only way she could even so much as find out about it is if she sought answers from the man himself, and it would be a little bit before she got to see him again in Long Beach.

That is if she could.

Afterwards, Esmé treated her to a bite of dinner at one of the cafes there in Avalon. Given it was raining, they retreated inside of there and shared a pina colada, even in the middle of December and a week before Christmas.

If nothing, Sam was glad to be around her mother again, even if Ruben was up in the Bay Area from that point onward. If nothing, it would be a rather interesting Christmas there on Catalina with all of the manzanita and all of the endemic plants about there, much like on her road trip with Louie: her mother joked about having a small palm tree in the front room of the house for the tree, although it made legitimate sense to Sam.

She knew that she would have to get used to the idea of having a split household from then on: divided over the entire state of California and she considered on returning to New York when all was said and done. However, she had her doubts about that, especially with Joey having his hands on another woman.

She took a warm shower to rid of the feeling traveling had given her and then she curled under the covers in her old bed tucked away there in the guest room. All the while she thought about Joey himself. She pictured him with his hands all over that other woman and she wondered if Frank genuinely saw them hold hands with one another or if he caught a fleeting glimpse of them and put two and two together. But she couldn't help it: she pictured him with a long and lanky supermodel, not a stubby little dark haired woman such as herself.

She rolled over onto her back and she wondered if he would return to her if she was a supermodel herself. Long narrow legs with big stiletto heels. The perfect hourglass shape to her body and her breasts so perky that no one could resist them. She could have the boys all to herself if that was the case with her.

If anything, as she thought about it more, she wondered as to why all of the guys even liked her in the first place because with every glimpse in the mirror, especially when she stood there after her shower and examined her nude body, she just saw a plain young woman with dark hair and dark eyes. She looked just like every other woman on the street as far as she could tell.

Nothing discernible as far as she could tell, either: nothing like doll-like features with Belinda or ever changing hair like Marla, or even something interesting like premature grays or having parents who hailed from both sides of the Korean peninsula.

And she bounced around with her weight as if it was the easiest thing in the world: but at least this time around, she was on the downswing. She glanced down at her body as it lay underneath the covers: the tips of her feet pointed up down at the base of that narrow mattress. She let her hand slide over the sheet, towards the right side.

She could still feel Cliff there next to her. She could still feel his presence, even with his smell gone away from her olfactory memory and even with the feel of his body vanished from the caress of her hand.

She could also feel Joey next to her. They were so close a few times. She actually got to put her lips around him not once, but twice.

And then, just like that, he went off with another woman all because she didn't resemble to a supermodel.

So many questions and all she could do was fall right into a dreamless sleep.

It wasn't until she awoke the next morning to the dense marine layer and the feeling Christmas was upon her when she realized she hadn't seen the mysterious man for months, as if he had vanished from her dreams forever.

After breakfast, Esmé drove her back down to the harbor for the next boat ride back over to San Pedro.

“I'll be waiting for you, sweetie,” she vowed to her as she held her in her arms away from the rain.

“No idea how long the show will be, though,” Sam confessed as she ran her fingers through her dark hair.

“I'll be waiting for you regardless of it, though.” She flashed her a wink and blew her a kiss before Sam boarded that little blue and white boat with her purse on her shoulder and her questions ready for Joey; she also had her explanation ready for Marla and Belinda, even though she had faith Alex had told them about it. She took her seat on the starboard side and peered over the edge to the gray ocean waters down below.

Twenty two miles across those waters and with the marine layer overhead, and soon the edge of California emerged in view: the coast seemed to extend on either side of them for as far as the eye could see. Sam thought about the Highway 1 on her road trip and how it all felt so endless and eternal at the same time, even if it was obvious the end of it came soon enough.

As the coast became clearer and clearer, she spotted that car in the parking lot before the dock. Even from a whole mile away, she recognized his tall body and those jet black curls. She didn't even have to see that little tuft of gray on his head to know that it was him there.

They reached the dock and Sam bolted off of the boat first and she hurried up to him.

“It's the damnedest thing, I can literally see you a mile away,” she told him as part of her greeting to him.

“You wanna know something?” he asked her as he set a hand on her shoulder.

“What's that?”

“I can, too. A mile out and I saw you peeking over the edge.”

“You could literally see me?” she chuckled.

“Yeah! Anyways, come on—the doors don't open until way later but—you know the drill.”

Alex drove her up to Reseda with nothing more than the side streets. He was silent the whole way and she could only assume that he had told Marla and Belinda what had happened. But she could only assume regardless of it all.

They reached the club in question and he parked around the back in the alleyway, much to where Sam thought she was about to bow headfirst into the dashboard in front of her.

“Sorry—I'm still trying to get used to it,” he confessed with a shrug. She let out a low whistle.

“Well, at least you weren't speeding,” she pointed out. He climbed out first; she followed him up to the back door there. All the memories of the Stormtroopers of Death tour returned as he held the door for her. She walked into the back hallway there, where two women congregated around Greg and his bass guitar. He nodded at her and Alex, and they both turned for a look back at them.

So he didn't tell them because they just got there themselves.

“THERE SHE IS!” Marla declared at the top of her lungs.

Belinda's snake pendant glittered under the pale lights with each and every step of the way. She threw her arms around her first and then she gaped at Sam. Marla shook her head and gaped at her.

“What the hell, Sam? Why'd you bail on us?”

She was taken aback at that. “I did?”

“Yeah,” Belinda followed up as Greg joined them there at the back door, “after you got the news that Joey had left you for another woman, you just sorta—went rigid and then you disappeared out of the cafe and just started walking up the road. We tried to get you back with us, but you were like 'no! I'll get there on my own!' Didn't even tell us where you were going, either.”

“Wow.” She slowly rubbed her hands together at the sound of that. “I—I don't even remember doing that. I can't believe I did that to you.”

“You must've just blacked out,” Greg explained. “Like it hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that yesterday after I dropped her off at San Pedro,” Alex followed up, “like—it sounds like she just completely blacked out.”

“Yeah, you were completely checked out at that point,” Belinda added. “I couldn't even get you to pay any attention.”

“Well, yeah, I mean—Joey is my guy. At least, I thought he was.” Sam stopped herself because the tears were coming back to her. “Did—Frankie give any more explanation as to why he went with another woman?”

Marla and Belinda glanced at one another, and then the former shook her head: her neon green hair shimmered about under the bright light of the backstage area.

“No, he just said, 'tell Sam that—I spotted Joey with another woman, and they look in love, too. Probably more so than the two of them.'”

Sam closed her eyes and bowed her head a bit.

“If we see him, we're gonna have a long talk with him,” Belinda vowed.

“The three of us or just me?”

“We'll help you,” Marla promised her. “Aurora's not here right now—obviously—so she's way out of the loop.”

“Push comes to shove, since he took your heart from you—we'll take something from him,” Belinda added.

“We won't go that far,” Marla told her off. “Especially since there's more than likely a good explanation behind it.” She fetched up a sigh and shook her head again. “San Pedro, you said, Alex?”

“My mom lives on Catalina now,” Sam pointed out. “Remember?”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Okay, so you went to your mom's house.”

“And Alex drove you there, too,” Greg added with a nod.

“I was driving down yesterday and there was traffic on the freeway when I got to Bakersfield, and I was like 'ah, jeez.' So I took a detour all through some farmland and I saw her walking on the side of the road. I was like, 'is that Samantha? Oh my god it is!' So I pulled over and got her in the car with me and I drove her there before the snow hit the Grapevine.”

“Drove me all the way down to the docks,” Sam added in a soft voice; something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, and she spotted a man with his back turned to them. But she remembered his head of thinning black hair, still long and down past his shoulders. He was talking to Louie as she approached him from behind and tapped on his shoulder.

“Hey, Scott!”

“Hey!” He put his arms around her. “How've you been?”

“Been over at my mom's house—she lives on Catalina, now. Twenty miles off the coast.”

“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows at that. “So how's life in Elsinore? I heard some things about that.”

“I don't live there anymore. Marla and Bel got me out of there. I might find my way back to New York officially soon enough.”

“Cool!” He gave her a high five at that.

“By the way, how'd you find out about my living in Elsinore?”

“Marla. I saw her running down the street a while back and I asked her what was going on, and she told me to take her over to your old school—I was driving. She did some things in there and then she came back out and she told me what happened to you. She asked me to keep it between us and so I did.”

Louie raised his head and nodded at her.

“Hey—poison garden,” she greeted him. Louie hesitated and then he laughed at that.

“Poison garden!” He bumped fists with her and Scott looked at them both, confused.

“It's—a long story,” Sam told him.

“It really is,” Louie added, and then he laughed at something behind her. She turned for a look back at Greg and Alex with Marla and Belinda: Greg slung his bass over his shoulder and then he let it rest right onto his back.

“You're gonna do what Joey did, aren't you?” Louie joked as the three of them walked on over to that side of the backstage area.

“Nah—just wanna see what the crowd's gonna be like out there.” He poked his head out from behind the curtain for a better look out to the front row of the crowd: Louie and Alex joined in, as did Sam and Marla right behind them. They were met with a sea of heads, a few of whom near the front had little elephants on their sleeves. It took Sam a second to realize that those were the Republican elephants with their red make up and the little white stars on their feet. Alex had his eye on all three of them and he frowned at the sight of them.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Yeah, this new album is definitely gonna be titled that,” he assured her. “Practice What You Preach.”

“This is bringing back all those memories of when we were first starting out,” Greg added, “we were playing in clubs up in the Bay Area. And there were a bunch of people who were talking about Reagan and we weren't having any of it.”

“Oh, yeah, it's definitely gonna have that title.”

The bunch of them backed away from there and Alex snapped his fingers.

“What?” Sam asked him, and he gestured for her to follow him. But he only led her to the little table tucked in the corner right behind him where he had set down a black backpack for safe keeping.

“I forgot to show you this, by the way,” he told her as he unzipped the front pocket, “—when I took you down to San Pedro yesterday.”

He flashed her a Polaroid photograph of a silver menorah on a table somewhere. All around the base stood a series of little yellow marigolds: each of the eight candles were lit with those pure yellow flames.

“Candles—lit for me?”

He opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by Greg singing off key to something. Alex turned his head in his direction as Greg slapped and plucked at the thick bass strings.

“What's all this?” Alex demanded.

“Nana na na na! Nana na na na!”

“Greg!”

“Huh?”

“What're you doing?”

“Sorry, I was just singing. We are getting paid to do this, you know, Alex.”

“True.”

The back door swung open again and Alex set a hand on Sam's shoulder so as to get her out of the way. Chuck and Tiffany stepped inside, away from the fine drizzle that began to fall over Los Angeles.

“I saw our pals from Slayer in the crowd here,” Chuck pointed out.

“Where's Slayer?” Sam wondered aloud. “Where's Slayer? Where's Slayer?”

“I didn't see them, either,” Marla added.

“They're there, though,” Tiffany assured them, and Chuck's face lit up at the sight of Sam.

“Hey, Sammich! C'mon over here. I got something to give you.”

“Well, it's from me and him both,” Tiffany corrected him.

“What is it?”

He kept his hand behind his back and he showed her a thoughtful look on his face.

“Close your eyes and hold out your wrist,” he told her. She did just that and she felt something smooth brush against her skin. He tied something right atop his wrist.

“Okay,” he told her, and she opened her eyes. He had given her a bracelet of black onyx beads and fire opal sugar skulls.

“Oh my god, Chuck, it's beautiful!” she gasped.

“It's a friendship bracelet. I got one, too!” He showed her the twin bracelet on his wrist as well and she threw her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered right into his ear.

“And thank you,” he whispered back to her.

“Hey, if nothing, we can name our new album Poison Garden,” Louie joked to Greg and Alex.

“No!” Sam whirled around and she pointed over at Louie himself, and he lunged back a bit as a result.

“No?”

“That's 'not' to you!” Scott called out from across the floor and Marla and Belinda both cackled at that.

#fanfic #fanfiction #testament fanfic #chapter 13 #souls of black #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #book four #testament #testament band #alex skolnick #greg christian #louie clemente #chuck billy #scott ian #california gothic #slice of life #writing #also on wattpad #also on ao3 #text

[crowsnests]

taste of certainty - part three

Fandom: The Arcana  Pairing: Julian Devorak x OC Apprentice (Syran Elkas) Tags: friends to lovers; modern times au; friend group dynamic; slow burn; pining; really just Julian being Julian and Syran being Oblivious Words: 7453 Warnings: mention of anxiety, migraines, insomnia, alcohol

part 1 2 3 4 5

playlist

I see the walls that are torn and bent The tug of war in the now, not yet Holding back what they can contain Can you tell me why I feel this way?

- trust; half-alive

III. sweet hurricane

Wednesdays are chill enough workdays, usually. It’s when Miss Eirsdottir has the least meetings, so Syran gets to calmly sit at her desk, processing new proposals and arranging schedules.

Not this Wednesday, though.

Miss Eirsdottir has Syran basically assist Varya in running all sorts of errands: moving from one side to the building to the other, carrying boxes of products for her to review, making sure the interns get the right coffees for the guests in the meetings, rushing to bring important folders to the PR office, assisting in said meetings. Varya is nice and helps Syran feel more at ease with the amount of workload, but it’s still quite stressful.

Syran forgot the days close to the launch of a new product could get so hectic. Her recurring migraine starts to make itself heard.

In the midst of it all, she gets a moment to catch her breath, during her lunch break. She goes and sits outside, despite the cold, on a bench in the courtyard inside the building. As she unfurls her lunchbox – a chicken sandwich, a carrot, and a bunch of blueberries – Asra and Pasha join her at the bench.

“Well, you look like shit,” Asra says, not even bothering with formalities as he sits down and opens his ricebox. A spiced scent trails out from it.

“Thanks, feel like it, too,” Syran answers, then bites into her carrot. Her head is pounding with pain and the nausea that comes with it doesn’t make her food look all that appealing, but she’s used to it at this point. She vaguely explains the reason for her exhaustion, her two friends nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, this week is tough, huh?” Pasha looks concerned as she takes out her lunch from her bag. A clear box with pasta in it and some orange juice.

“Yeah, pre-release is hell up in management,” Syran sighs.

“Well, at least you get to have fun next weekend! It’s gonna be a blast.” Pasha winks.

Syran looks at her confused, blinks a couple times, her brain slowly moving its gears together.

Asra looks at her pointedly, mouthing something.

Syran can’t decipher it, but a light goes on in her brain nonetheless.

“Oh shit, it’s your birthday! Yeah! Can’t wait for that!”

“You and Nadi always know how to throw a good party, I’m excited,” Asra smiles, bright eyes wrinkled up in joy. He does love partying.

Pasha laughs, then goes on to describe how she’s planned this carefully, how the theme is Vintage Masquerade, or something, and how she can’t wait to see everyone’s costumes. Asra engages with her eagerly, giving advice for decorations and getting excited over the food.

There and then, Syran realises two things.

One: she has no fucking clue what to wear to something like that.

Two: she’s supposed to see Ilya today and get Pasha a present.

As if summoned, her phone goes off. Ilya’s name on the screen makes her insides squirm but she opens the text trying not to arouse suspicion.

dr. hulian - 13:12 Do you think Pasha would like this?

Attached to the message, there’s a picture of a– well, a skull, looking pretty real and being held by what’s clearly Ilya’s hand. Syran finds it a little eerie, but she can’t hold her smile back.

To: dr. hulian - 13:13 Mmmh, maybe if you decorated it a bit?

She starts eating her sandwich, itching to get a reply, but acts as if it’s nothing. She gets back into the conversation with Pasha and Asra, trying to get distracted. Asra is now suggesting he could give tarot readings to the guests for a little bit during the party, Pasha seems elated at the idea.

Then, Syran’s phone vibrates again.

from: dr. hulian - 13:16 - You mean like this? - His name is Ferdinand, by the way

This time, the skull has a thin golden scarf with an intricate flower pattern tied all around, complete with a fancy bow on top. It’s ridiculous and endearing at the same time. Syran tries to stifle a laugh.

To: dr. hulian - 13:18 - hell yeah, ferdinand looks perfect in that, love it - where did he get that, looks extremely fashionable

from: dr. hulian - 13:18 - We stole it from nadia’s bag while she went to the bathroom. I suspect mere seconds before we get punished for our crime. - oh no, she found us

Syran laughs again, this time she can’t hide it as she types a reply.

To: dr. hulian - 13:19 - Just blame it on Ferdinand! i’m sure she’ll understand

“–kay, what’s going on, Syran?”

“Huh?” She blinks up at the two pairs of eyes scrutinising her.

“Who’re you texting?” Asra looks smug, ready to pounce.

“Looks like a pretty nice convo you’re having there.” Pasha adds, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand.

Syran scrambles for a reply. There’s no way in hell she’s going to be honest with them on this, not today.

Or ever, probably.

“Just– Ran. She was showing me her dogs, back at home,” She smiles at the end, desperately hoping to sell the lie.

Pasha lights up at the word dogs, but Asra doesn’t seem convinced.

“Really? She never mentioned dogs to me,” He narrows his eyes.

“Oh, yeah, she has two mixed breeds and– and a parrot.”

I mean, it’s not as much of a lie as a past truth. Ran used to have two dogs and a parrot in her old home. Now it’s just one of the dogs, who’s gotten pretty old, too.

“That’s cute! Can I see?” Pasha eagerly leans over to glance at Syran’s phone, now sitting face up on the table.

“Uh– I– I guess–” just as Syran tries to make something up, the phone goes off again, this time with a call. Ilya’s name flashes on the display for everyone to see.

Syran just stares at it, startled.

“Well, aren’t you going to answer?” Asra suggests, teasingly.

Syran chuckles nervously, then reaches for the phone.

“Hello?”

From the other side there’s noises and two distinct voices arguing, albeit muffled. None of them talking to her.

“H– hello?” she tries again, this time genuinely confused.

“–ust for a second! Don’t get mad at me, come on–”

“–you should know better than to steal from me, Ilya,”

“Come on, Nadi– ust a joke!”

“–going to have a better excuse– this was a gift!”

Asra and Pasha lean closer to try and hear what’s going on, but Syran swats them away.

“Must be a butt dial or something,” she mutters, just as Ilya keeps talking and exclaims an apology.

Pasha rolls her eyes. “Is it my brother?”

As Nadia seems to reprimand Ilya more, Syran nods, looking confused enough for her friends to frown with her.

“– an excuse to talk!” Ilya’s exclamation gets Syran's attention.

“You’re a lost cause, Devorak,” This time Nadia’s voice is a little more clear.

“I know,” Ilya says.

When they go silent Syran tries again.

“Uhhh, hello?”

More noises. Something scrambling by the mic.

“Oh, shi– goddamn– hello? Syran? That you?”

“Yep,” She deadpans, avoiding Pasha and Asra’s eyes, “In the flesh.”

“Uh– did you– did you call me?”

“I believe you called me, Ilya,” she arches an eyebrow.

On the other side of the table, Pasha is making a kissy face and hugging herself, then mouths the word smooch. Next to her, Asra snickers. Syran rolls her eyes and turns on her seat, her back facing them.

“Ah. Right. Well, that was– not intentional. I was– discussing, with Nadia, you see.” Ilya utters, embarrassed.

“I figured,” Syran laughs, “Pretty important discussion, it seems.”

“Uh– did you hear much of that?”

Syran could barely understand, really. “Nope, mostly that Nadia’s mad about your theft.” She smiles.

“Yes, indeed. But Ferdinand and I will be okay,” He laughs, clearly more relaxed. “We fought hard and we lost our treasure, but we came out of it unscathed.”

“That’s not true–” Nadia chimes in from somewhere next to him.

Syran can’t help but laugh louder at Ilya’s theatrics this time, “Well, I’m glad you’re alive, at least.”

She is also glad that her friends can’t see her face right now, because it would be so, so, incriminating.

“So, uh, well,” Ilya continues, “Since we’re here, I was– I was wondering if you’re still on for later? For the– uh– secret mission?” Syran smirks at the way he whispers it, not subtle at all.

Suddenly aware not only of the pair of devils behind her, but also of the fact her and Ilya’s mission involves a surprise for one of them, Syran tries to not give herself away. She also probably needs to close the call, before she makes things worse for herself.

“Yep, yep, sure.” She says, quickly. “No worries.”

“Oh, great, so I’ll come–” Ilya starts.

“Yeah, work’s definitely busy today!”

“Uhm, okay, so– does that mean–”

“No, it’s fine!” Syran exclaims, trying her best to act convincingly. “Well, good luck with your– things!”

“Okay, bu–”

Syran hangs up before Ilya can finish.

“Wow,” Asra says from behind her.

Syran breathes in and takes a moment to turn back towards them, then hides her face in her sandwich.

“You two were straight-up flirting,” Pasha says, smile on her face.

Syran talks with a bite of sandwich in her mouth. “Do you even know what flirting entails? Because that was not it. That was a normal conversation. If that was flirting, then I’d be flirting with all of you. All the time. That’s not flirting.”

Cool, now she's talking way too much.

“Ah, the sweet taste of denial,” Asra sighs, dramatic and starry-eyed.

“Seriously, you guys are delusional.” Syran gives one last bite to her sandwich. “That was just an accidental dial, nothing more.”

“Yes, but why, oh, why, I wonder, was it to you? Were you so high up in his recent contacts?” Pasha squints at her, sly.

“You’re reaching. We all have a groupchat together, it could have been for any reason. You know how clumsy Ilya can be.” Syran shrugs, praying that they’ll let her live. Seriously, she does not deserve this torture. “Why are you guys so obsessed with this anyway?”

Pasha and Asra exchange a look, then they both lean back, in sync.

“Okay,” Asra states. He narrows his eyes and crosses his fingers on the table like he's a renowned detective, or something. “Let’s assume you’re right.”

“Which I am–”

“Did you mind, though?”

“What?”

“Did you mind that Ilya butt-dialed you?”

“What sort of question is that?” Syran widens her eyes, taken aback. Really, why are they so stubborn.

“Just answer, perp!” Pasha points a finger at her. Now it really feels like Syran is in an interrogation room.

“I have nothing to answer, because that is a stupid question.” She closes her lunch box with finality, looking straight into Pasha’s eyes.

“Admit it!” Asra slams a hand on the table, “You enjoy talking to him!”

Syran groans, exasperated, “Of course I do, he’s my friend! It would be mean if I didn't!”

Pasha and Asra smile at each other, “We got her, chief.” Pasha says.

“You got nothing,” Syran glares at them, “I’m going back to work.”

She gets up and gathers her things, ignoring the chorus of booos coming from her friends.

God, she loves them to bits, but they can be so annoying at times.

🂱

Somehow, she manages to slither away from the others and get back home safe.

After having sent Ilya a few explanatory texts and having agreed to meet at a cafe nearby, she finally takes a look in the mirror.

She really does look tired. Without distractions around her, the migraine is harder to ignore. She takes a relief pill and washes her ruined makeup, her face feeling cleaner. The heaviness of the day is starting to take a toll on her, she can feel it in her muscles.

When she checks the time, she realises that she’s going to be late if she doesn’t hurry up.

Quickly, she reapplies her makeup as best as she can, then throws on some clean and more comfortable clothes.

Persephone meows at her from the foot of her bed; it’s almost as if she’s smirking at her, knowing more than she lets on.

“Oh, not you too,” Syran pleads.

🂱

When she arrives at the cafe, Ilya is waiting by the entrance, casually leaning on the wall behind him. She takes a moment to look at him while he’s distracted by his phone, all perfectly styled auburn hair and dark clothes. She hates how good he looks.

(She doesn’t hate it, really, but she’ll die before she admits it.)

When he meets her eyes, a big smile sparks on his face.

“Hey,” she waves. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Hey,” he echoes, “Not at all.”

“Shall we?”

“Ah, yes, uh– should we get some coffee to go, first, since I owe you that?” He smirks, but then his eyes glance down to the side straight away. “That’s if– if you want, of course.”

“Sounds great!” Syran nods, delighted at the thought of a hot beverage in her hands.

The cafe is cozy and warm, most of the tables are filled with people chatting or working on their laptops.

As they wait in line, Ilya and Syran talk a little about their days, how Ilya’s research is driving him insane, how Syran’s boss gave her a hundred errands until late.

“Yikes, that must be tiring,” Ilya says, concerned, as they wait for their drinks.

Ilya has ordered a black coffee with a splash of milk, Syran has opted for a matcha latte. She likes coffee, but on days like this it makes her a little too jittery.

“Yeah, I mean, no more tiring than any other job. Plus, I learn a lot. Miss Eirsdottir is tough, but she’s brilliant.” Syran finds herself fiddling with her hands. “Hopefully one day I get to do more of the parts that I really love, though.”

Ilya smiles down at her, handing her the drink. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes Syran feel light. “I’m sure you will.”

Finding a present for Pasha isn’t as easy as they thought. They scurry through shops, trying things, looking at clothes, bags, books, videogames, jewelry, vinyl records– they contemplate wine at some point but realise Nadia would like that more. Then they go back to books, but nothing seems right.

Syran would lie if she said she isn’t having fun, though. Despite some moments where she really wishes she could hide her blush, she and Ilya fall into a rhythm made of jokes, laughter, chatter, and comfortable silences.

It’s nice. Really nice. It's. You know. Friendship.

Eventually, they walk by a window that’s displaying a various array of scarfs, ranging in colours and materials.

Syran does a double-take and spots a muted orange one that makes her think of Pasha immediately.

“That one!” She exclaims pointing at the glass.

“Huh?” Ilya seems taken aback, interrupted in the middle of his story on how he once got his hand stuck in a vending machine.

“Look at that scarf, isn’t it perfect for Pasha?”

Ilya squints at the glass, trying to figure out what Syran is pointing at. “The orange one?”

“Yep! It looks so pretty!” Syran turns to him, beaming, “We should go see it!”

Ilya nods, smiling back.

The scarf turns out to be even better than they thought. It’s made of soft and light cotton, with a delicate golden pattern woven on the edges. Ilya seems elated, saying that she will love it, right? Will she love it, Syran? I think she will.

Syran smiles at his excitement, glad to see him happy about the choice. The clerk wraps it up in a beautiful gift box, eagerly explaining how the cotton is of a refined but durable quality, it makes for perfect everyday use, but also works really well for more elegant events. Ilya listens intently, as if he’s trying to remember all of it to then tell Pasha.

Ilya has a big smile plastered on his face as they exit the shop, then he turns to Syran and hugs her, all-encompassing. She’s startled, but she gingerly hugs him back.

“Thank you so much, seriously,” He mutters in her hair.

She really really hopes he can’t hear how loud her heart is beating this time.

It’s not a crush.

Is it?

When he pulls back, they’re both a little flustered. “Ehm– I mean, yeah. Thank you.”

Syran is still trying to regain herself from the sudden hug, but something in Ilya’s tone makes her wonder.

“Can I ask you something?”

Ilya seems a little surprised by the question, but nods nonetheless. “Sure.”

“Why were you so worried about this? Besides the regular stuff you told me, like. What are you really worried about?” More than out of curiosity, Syran is asking because she can sense that there’s still something bothering Ilya.

He blinks, eyes wide. Then he looks down, as if caught in the act.

“Well– I– to be honest, it’s been a little tough lately, and the work at the university isn’t helping. So I haven’t been able to be there for Pasha as much as I’d like.” He sighs, but Syran gives him time, sensing that’s not the whole story.

He looks at her, visibly worried now. “And. Well. Pasha and I have– not always been close. Our parents divorced when we were fairly young and we took different paths after I graduated high school. I left, wanting to get away from it all, and she stayed. I made mistakes, resented her for it. We argued a lot, eventually had a big fight, and– didn’t talk for a while after that. It didn’t feel good, but I was reckless and hurt and too prideful.”

He looks so sad Syran can’t help but reach out to hold one of his gloved hands. Then, he smiles, although a little bitterly. Syran thinks she sees tears in her eyes. Her heart drops to her stomach.

Ilya continues, “I mean, we fixed things in the past years and now that we live in the same town it’s great, but– I still feel like there’s an unspoken distance. I fucked up so many times before–” He cuts himself off, like it pains him to go on. “So– yeah, I just want us to get close again– I feel like I need to make it up to her, somehow.”

He blinks the tears away, chuckling nervously. “God, you must think I’m an idiot.”

“What– no!” Syran’s chest is tight. She never imagined Ilya had all of this inside. She knew there was some sort of situation between the two of them, but Pasha never liked talking about it much.

“I–I think you’re very thoughtful. And mature for wanting to own up to things. It’s heartwarming to see how much you care,” She continues under his cautious stare. “Look– I don’t know, maybe it’s not my place, but I don’t think you need to make anything up to her. You’re a wonderful brother and person. Look at how much thought you’re putting into this! Whatever happened, I am– I’m sure she knows how much you love her. I can see how happy she is to have you back in her life, too – well, in between all the bickering.”

Ilya laughs at her last words and she joins, happy to see him smiling again.

Then, her gaze softens. “I think you will be just fine. You are trying really hard, you should give yourself a break.”

Ilya smiles, gentle. Then, he seems more relieved. “Thank you. You’re– uh. Quite good at pep talks.”

She winks, “I know.” She can’t help but squeeze his hand a little. He squeezes back. Syran feels a little dazed and her chest feels a little tight, her and Ilya exchanging a soft gaze.

She’s so fucking gone, it’s no use ignoring it.

It might just be a crush.

Then, Ilya’s eyes widen, and he gasps. “You still need a present!”

“Oh, yeah,” Syran realises, waking up from her thoughts, “We don’t have to get it right now, though, I can always–”

“Nope, you helped me, now it’s your turn! Let’s go!”

He drags her through more streets like he’s a kid on a mission, it makes Syran laugh. They stop at various shops, once again searching for something perfect.

She can’t deny it, though, there’s a newfound feeling between them, maybe one of strengthened trust. They’re both laughing more, feeling more comfortable with each other than before.

Finally, a small antique shop catches Ilya’s eye. Syran walks back to look at the window with him.

It’s filled with various objects, old pocket watches, silver paraphernalia, old vases and pots, ragged dolls. Ilya seems enthralled by an old model ship, perched precariously on a small shelf.

“My grandma used to have one like that in her house,” He smiles, fondly. “I demanded to play with it whenever we visited, but she always told me it was too delicate to even look at, let alone touch.” He laughs. “I’d get all whiny then, but I get it now.” He turns to Syran, almost a little sorrowful.

“Some things are just too delicate to be reckless with.”

Syran blinks at him, ignoring the blood rushing to her ears. She turns to look at the ship again.

“I don’t know,” she says, “It looks pretty sturdy to me. It might not be ruined, but now it’s sitting in a dusty display.” She turns to him and shrugs. “Isn’t it better to enjoy things while they last, instead of holding back? ”

She’s not sure they’re talking about the ship anymore– Ilya’s gaze on her makes her breath hitch in her throat.

She turns to the window again, flustered. As she stares intently, she realises that there is a little jewelry display on the bottom. In the midst of overly ornate rings and delicate pendants, she notices what looks like a brooch.

“Hey, what do you think of that?” She points at it, hoping that Ilya will see it amongst all the things.

He leans over her shoulder– too close to her, it takes all her might not to wince, ignoring the butterflies eating at her stomach. “Which one?”

“The– uh– the little brooch with the flowers?” She looks closer. It seems like real dried flowers encased in resin. They’re small and of a pale yellow, with a few crimson ones, on a white background. A delicate pattern made of golden metal frames it.

Ilya gasps, “That looks wonderful! It might go well with the scarf too!”

Syran agrees, although she hadn’t thought of that. She swallows, then suggests they head into the store.

As she talks to the owner, Ilya looks around the shop, curiously admiring the various displays. The brooch is even more beautiful up close, and the shopkeeper explains to her how this is special and one of a kind. Promises that she will give Syran a good price for it. She thanks the woman, and asks if she can wrap it as a gift.

“No problem, dear,” The lady says, reaching for a little red satin bag. As she fills it with some cotton to shield the brooch, she glances up at Ilya, who’s now looking at a small display of old books.

“Those ones are almost all first editions, you know,” she tells him.

“Oh– really?” Ilya turns, eyes filled with wonder. “They seem well preserved!”

“Of course,” The lady nods, delicately putting the brooch inside the bag, “I only get the best quality things.”

Ilya laughs, then moves onto another window. The lady slowly ties the bag with a textured ribbon, “Your boyfriend’s got a good eye,” she whispers.

Syran’s eyes widen, and she starts to stutter. “Oh– n– he’s not– we’re not together– he’s not my boyfriend.” She matches the shopkeeper’s tone, hoping that Ilya hasn’t heard them. Luckily, he seems too enthralled by the various objects to notice.

The lady throws another look at Ilya, then raises an eyebrow with a sly smile. “Are you sure?”

Syran doesn’t know how to answer for a second. Then she nods, slowly. “Yeah, uh. I am.”

When they leave the shop, Syran sighs in relief. Partly, because she’s got a present she’s really happy with. And also because she’s out of the shopkeeper's enquiring gaze.

“Happy?” Ilya asks her, smiling.

Syran looks up at him, startled. “Ye–yes! Very! I really hope she’ll like it.”

“Oh, she will,” he reassures her.

As they make their way back, Ilya starts wondering about what to wear at the party.

“I mean, I love her, but what sort of theme is Vintage Masquerade? Like, couldn’t she pick something simple? I don’t know, casual party attire?”

Syran laughs, although she agrees. She has no idea what to wear either.

“I mean, you kind of got it easy, you could throw on some slacks, a shirt, and some suspenders or something. Or a vest. Those are vintage.” She shrugs. She doesn’t know much about this stuff, really, but she does like dressing up. That is, when the theme is clear and easy.

“I guess– not even sure I have a vest, though,” Ilya ponders.

“Well, hey, you’re going to have to ditch your bomber jacket anyway.”

He gasps, fake offended. “Excuse me, this is my piece of resistance! Keeps me warm and looks amazing!”

Syran laughs it off, “Sure, but– still doesn’t quite hit the mark, does it?”

Ilya huffs like a pouting child. It’s endearing. “Whatever, I’ll figure something out, I guess.” Then he turns back to Syran.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you gonna wear?”

Oh. With all the business of the day, she had forgotten to look for clothes or even think about it. Again.

“Uhmm–” She thinks back to her wardrobe. Mentally scans through her more formal things.

“Dunno– I guess I have a lilac dress I could wear? It’s kind of vintage? It’s the best I can do, honestly.” She huffs a small laugh, but the more she thinks about it the more she thinks the dress will be fine.

It’s made of a light and flowy material, with a high neck that closes with a few small buttons, leaving a drop–like window on the chest. It’s a delicate dress, but the knee-length skirt and cut are vintage-inspired, at least.

“That sounds nice,” Ilya hums. “Now we just gotta find some masks to go with it,” he sighs.

“Oh, well, we have about a week for that, at least.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ilya frowns as if he’s trying to think where he could possibly find a mask.

“Although I think Pasha said there will be an array of masks to choose from at the party? Nadia knew a place or something, I think it’s to prevent people from showing up without one,” Syran realises with a smile, thinking of Pasha’s resolve and Nadia’s attention to details.

“Well, one less thing to worry about then,” Ilya sighs. “Although I hope to find one that works with my look. I’m a man of fashion, after all.”

“You could always make one,” Syran cackles, playfully hitting his arm. “And you didn’t know what to wear until I told you!”

He laughs back, teasing. “Hey, doesn’t mean I can’t dress at all!”

Syran’s smile only gets wider. It stays like that even after they’ve parted ways.

🂱

Syran doesn’t know how she got roped into this.

It all started with Asra and Nadia inviting her out for a few drinks– sure, it’s a Friday night, what’s a cocktail going to do?

So she got ready, wore one of her favourite outfits just as an incentive to feel more like going out, and met Asra at their usual place.

Except, when she arrived at the Raven, Asra and Nadia weren’t the only ones sitting at the table. A familiar head filled with auburn hair was sitting next to them, too.

Syran joined them, all smiles and greetings, and then dived immediately for the bar– anything to escape Asra’s knowing smile, Nadia’s attentive eyes, and Ilya’s annoyingly pretty face.

The bar isn’t too crowded, but thankfully still enough for her to blend with the people around her. She leans at the counter, waiting for a familiar face to greet her. Tonight Joon is working, which makes her smile. Since she and Asra have been coming here, he’s quickly become friends with them. She orders and idly chats with Joon as he makes her drink.

“Getting the usual?” A deep voice startles her.

Oh, she really can’t escape this shit.

She looks up at Ilya, who’s smirking at her. She does feel more relaxed around him now, but there are still moments like this, where he sneaks up on her and all of her blood rushes to her cheeks. To add insult to injury, Syran’s eyes can’t help but trail to Ilya’s outfit. He’s wearing a sleek black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. She doesn’t know if she hates this more or the shirts with the unbuttoned tops.

She turns back towards the bar, “Yep. Oaxaca old-fashioned all the way, baby.”

She taps her fingers on the wood and leans a little forward to look behind the counter, where Joon is just about to hand her the glass.

She grabs it with a smile, carefully taking the first sip. “Ah– you’re the best, Joon. Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear,” Joon winks at her. She loves him, honestly, and not only because he’s nice and handsome. He genuinely makes her laugh and has helped her more than a few times when unpleasant patrons have bothered her.

“Well, good, because I’ll definitely be back for another one,” she smirks and winks back.

Joon laughs, then turns to Ilya, “what can I get you?”

When Syran looks up at Ilya as she takes another sip from her glass, she notices the weird expression on his face. He’s almost frowning at Joon, but she brushes it down to his bushy eyebrows. He can unintentionally look like he’s glaring at people, when the light is right.

Then, he turns to Syran with a sly smile, “You know, I’ve never had an Oaxaca old-fashioned.”

She swallows, then puts the glass down, “You should! The ones Joon makes are god-tier.” Syran suggests excitedly.

Ilya seems to ponder on it for a second, “Mhh– but what if I don’t like it?”

Ilya’s never struck Syran for the indecisive type. But then again, maybe he just really wants to get a good drink right now. He seems to come to a realisation, just then.

“Ah– what if I tried yours?” He asks, genuine, but with a weird glint in his eyes. Syran did not expect the question, it leaves her a little dumbfounded.

“S–sure, why not–” She hands him the glass, and he grabs it, eagerly.

“Thank you,” Ilya proceeds to take a small sip from the glass, and Syran can’t help but notice that’s almost where she drank from, his lips dangerously close to the subtle stain of her lipstick.

Syran throws a glance at Joon, who’s patiently waiting for them. He shoots her a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. She just kinda shrugs.

Ilya puts the glass back on the counter, “That’s actually really really good.” He looks at it like he’s surprised.

“Told ya’,” Syran smirks.

When they get back to their table, equal drinks in their hands, Nadia and Asra are animatedly engaged in conversation. They kinda stop when Syran and Ilya arrive, turning to them with coy smiles.

Asra notices the drink in Ilya’s hand and then gasps, “Wow, she convinced you? She’s been trying to get me to drink that since forever.”

Syran rolls her eyes, “I gave up, you clearly only like extremely sweet shit–”

“And happily so,” Asra mocks her, then turns to Ilya again. “You actually like it?”

Ilya nods as if he doesn’t see what the fuss is all about, “Yeah, it’s really good.”

“It’s not as bad as you make it to be, Asra,” Nadia chimes in.

Ilya shrugs, then takes another sip. Syran can’t help but smile proudly at Asra, like she’s won an ongoing battle between the two of them.

“Well, it’s good to see you both have clearly similar tastes,” Asra says, before carefully drinking from the straw in his tall glass, filled with a bright pink cocktail. Both Ilya and Syran widen their eyes.

“Ah– guess so,” Ilya chuckles.

“Yeah,” Syran mutters, glaring at Asra. “Anyway, you guys noticed how they changed the backlight of the sign behind the bar? I actually like it better now,” Syran starts, trying to sway the conversation.

Maybe it’s not as graceful as she’d like, but it works. They all start talking about the bar and its decor, how they’ve always loved this place; time passes by and soon they’re all a little flushed and tipsy, except Nadia, who’s the designated driver for the night.

Then, at one point, Asra’s eyes trail behind Syran, and they widen in shock.

“Oh shit,” He says, crouching down as if to hide behind his drink. Nadia puts a hand on Asra’s back, concerned.

“What?” Both Syran and Ilya turn towards where Asra looked, trying to figure out what happened.

“Don’t look, you idiots!” Asra whispers, angry. “Valerius is here! Shit!”

Syran then realises, “Oh, fuck, really? I thought he didn’t come here anymore!”

“Yeah, well, he’s by the counter. Shit, fuck!”

“Who’s– uh– who’s Valerius?” Ilya asks, clearly confused.

“Asra’s awful ex,” Nadia explains, “he was an asshole and we all hate him, viciously.” She’s got fire in her eyes, and Syran knows she is mirroring it herself.

“He fucking– he cheated on me and then said it was my fault. It was– it was fucking awful.” Asra looks like he’s about to cry. Syran wants to reach for him and hug him. She knows Asra’s wound is still fresh and knows how hard it was for him to move on from the hurt.

Ilya sneers, “That’s disgusting.”

“Damn right,” Nadia adds, glaring towards where Valerius is.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can leave if you want,” Syran reaches out for Asra’s hand, trying to reassure him.

He shakes his head, sneaking another glance, “Then he will have won. Again.”

“No, he will not,” Nadia declares, “If he says anything we’ll beat the shit out of him. Fuck, even Joon will be on our side on this.”

“Nadia’s right,” Ilya adds, “Plus, I’ve dabbled in bar brawling before.”

It makes the table laugh, if a little, but it lightens the mood. It doesn’t last long, though.

“Shit– is that? Is that Lucio? Are you fucking kidding me?” Asra says, now even angrier than before.

“Oh, hell no–” Nadia goes to get up, but Asra holds her down.

“Nadi no, I just– I don’t want to see them.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Nadia asks. Asra nods, gingerly.

“That’s cool, Asra, we can go–” Syran starts.

“Not all at once, though–” He says, resolute. “I don’t want to draw attention.”

There’s a joke Syran could make there about how Asra doesn’t exactly blend in the crowd, with his flashy fashion and white hair, but she knows that wouldn’t make him laugh right now– clearly, all he wants to do is disappear.

“How about this,” Nadia says, turning towards Syran and Ilya, hand still on Asra’s back, “I’ll take him home and you guys enjoy the rest of your drinks. You’ve barely started these glasses, while we’re almost done. You call me when you’re finished and I’ll come back to pick you up, okay?”

“Nadi, you don’t have to–” Ilya starts, but she waves a hand to interrupt him.

“It’s no problem, really,” she smiles kindly, “You guys just enjoy the night, yeah?”

Syran looks at Asra, now clearly on the verge of tears. Whether they’re from hurt or anger, she can’t tell. Probably a mix of both. But he knows what she’s about to say nonetheless.

“Don’t worry, S,– I’ll be okay, yeah? I asked you to come out, it’s just fair that you enjoy your time. Seriously.”

Syran nods, resigned, knowing how stubborn Asra can get. “Okay but–”

“I’ll call you later, promise.”

“Promise,” Syran retaliates. A concerned frown doesn’t leave her face, even as Asra and Nadia carefully slip out the table, then towards the end of the counter, well hidden from Valerius’ attention. Syran spots Nadia talking to Joon, probably asking him to let them out through the back.

And just like that, Syran is left at the table alone with Ilya, both of them in awkward silence, staring at their drinks. Finally, Ilya speaks.

“I’ve never– I’ve never seen Asra like that.”

Syran looks at him, notices the worry in his features as he twirls the glass in his hands.

“Yeah, he tries to hide his feelings, when he can, the idiot,” she smiles bitterly; stars know how many times she’s tried to tell Asra that bottling it all up doesn’t help anyone.

“I can understand that,” Ilya looks up at her. “I hate to pry but– who’s–”

“Lucio? The guy Valerius cheated with. Also, Nadia’s ex of like–” She tries to do mental math. “Four? Years ago?”

“Yikes,” Ilya just says, taking a big sip of his drink.

“Yep– it’s– a lot.” Syran sighs, “We thought he was going to be out of our life after Nadia broke up with his ass, but– guess not.”

She inhales, exhausted only at the thought of all that happened in the past. Things were definitely messier than now. She takes another swig of her drink.

“Well–” Ilya smiles, putting his glass down, “what if we did something about that?”

The glint in his eyes is mischievous, and Syran raises an eyebrow from behind her drink.

“What do you have in mind?”

🂱

Pranks have never been something Syran thought about. Never felt the need to fill someone’s shoes with toothpaste, or hide a fake spider in the bathroom, or whatever it is that the kids do these days. She always felt bad for those people in prank videos that get visibly hurt.

But this– she didn’t mind this one bit.

She and Ilya are running out of the bar, lungs filled with laughter, as Lucio and Valerius’ screams fade behind them. They run long enough until their legs give up, and even then, they find it in themselves to keep laughing.

“Jesus– their face– priceless!” Syran heaves out.

“I told you–” Ilya adds, big smile not leaving his face, eyes all crinkled up and blush on his cheeks. “Cranberry juice always works–”

They haven’t done anything that spectacular, really, but Syran will realise this later, when the adrenaline has rushed out of her. Right now, spilling juice on those two idiots’ white clothes and making Lucio trip on his ass was enough to make her night.

“Didn’t expect you to punch Valerius, though,” Ilya grins at her, as if impressed.

Yeah, and that too.

“Me neither– I don’t condone violence, but–” Syran finally feels her breath coming back to her, “–but, god, he deserved it.”

“Sure did–” Ilya laughs with her, adjusting his coat.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, all smiles and excitement, rush of electricity that Syran hadn’t felt in a while. Not like this.

“Well–” Ilya starts, “Maybe we should– uh. Go?”

“Yeah– I could call an uber?” Syran suggests.

“Actually, I was more thinking, like– I can walk you home, maybe?” He seems almost scared to ask for a second, but then his features relax. “Honestly, I feel bad calling Nadia now and it might be good to shake the alcohol off.” He looks up at the clear sky. “It’s a nice night, anyway.”

He’s right. It’s hard to see stars from the city, but the moon is bright and beautiful.

Syran doesn’t quite know what to say, though she agrees with not bothering Nadia. She is probably busy taking care of Asra right now, and that reassures her a lot. But Syran’s house is a good thirty minutes walk away, not to mention that Ilya would have to walk back through the city for more than that.

“I– I don’t know. It’s a long way for you– and it’s late–”

“Syran, I assure you that I’ll be fine, I like walking.” He chuckles, “If anything, I know you will punch whoever gets in our way.”

Syran laughs, although a little flustered under Ilya’s endeared stare. “Yeah, I’m basically a pro wrestler now.”

They end up chatting along the way, although the cold winter wind catches up on them, but they don’t mind that much. They’re too distracted by their conversation to think about that.

Getting to know each other like this, casually, with no pressure, without inhibitions, has become natural to them. They get to talk about things that they never addressed, make jokes that seem so dumb and niche they are surprised when the other laughs.

Ilya was the last one to join their group of friends, so she can imagine he felt a little distant from everyone else at first. But it’s been over a year now, and the group feels really solid, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together with harmony.

Still, Syran always felt like her and Ilya never really got to talk much like this, just the two of them. And maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the way Ilya makes her feel at ease, but she doesn’t feel as skittish around him anymore.

Sure, her heart still jumps when he laughs, and any little brush of their arms makes her breath hitch, but– but– there’s not much of an excuse for that, other than she’s clearly got feelings for him.

It is a crush. A heavy one at that.

But she can live with it, she can just enjoy their friendship and not act on them.

They are close to her building when they are laughing at a story Syran is telling, of one time where she and Asra got lost in a park and thought a ghost was haunting them.

“I swear, Asra tried to act all brave, but–” in the middle of the phrase, a strong fit of pain hits the side of her head. She had managed to ignore the creeping migraine until then, but suddenly, it feels like her brain is about to explode. She holds a hand to where the pain is, eyes shut and slightly crouching forward.

“Syran? You okay?” Ilya reaches a hand to her shoulder, tone immediately shifting to heavy concern.

“Yeah– just– I get migraines– sometimes,” she mutters through the pain.

“That’s not good,” Ilya says. “We’re almost to your place, you think you can make it?”

“Ye–yeah– sorry–”

“Why are you apologising? Had I known, I–”

“Don’t want you to worry,” she utters, finally feeling like she can open her eyes a little, “I’m used to it.”

It does nothing to ease Ilya’s concern though. If anything, he seems to worry more, reaching to fully encase Syran in his arm, supporting her as they walk.

“Really, I’ll be okay,” she says.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when you’re home and feeling better,” He scoffs, his hand rubbing up and down Syran’s arm. “Don’t forget I’m basically a doctor.”

It makes Syran laugh a little, “Right, Doctor Devorak, ready to help.”

“Is that a mocking tone I’m sensing, Miss Elkas?”

“No–” Syran says, teasing, although through the pain, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Ilya laughs, then seems to hold her tighter. “Almost there.”

They finally reach her building, and she gingerly gets out her keys to open the door.

“Thank you,” she turns to say goodbye to him, “Get home safe.”

But he just stares at her. “Didn’t I say I’ll stop worrying until you’re home?”

Syran chuckles, “But I am–”

“Yeah, I meant home home. I’ll take you up–” then he widens his eyes, catching himself. “That’s if– if you’re okay with that, of course.”

Syran thinks about it for a second, but the pain is too strong to argue right now. She just nods and mutters a okay, and goes to let Ilya through before her.

Sometimes things just don’t go as planned, though.

As she’s about to follow behind him, something hits her shoulder, and hard. She turns just in time to see someone running past her, then she loses her balance and hits the floor.

The last thing Syran sees before passing out is Ilya’s hands reaching for her.

#an writes #fic writing #julianxapprentice #julianxsyran #julian devorak #portia devorak #ilya devorak #pasha devorak #nadia satrinava #lucio morgasson #asra alnazar #muriel #the arcana fic #the arcana #part 3

[duker42]

May I perhaps request some punk!Levi x reader nsfw fluff please? You can pick the scenario~ ty for the chance

*****WARNING*****NSFW

💜Outward Appearances💜

He had that bad boy charm. The kind that got a girl wet from just imagining how bad he could be. His persona was only amplified by his outward appearance. The tattoos and piercings combined with the black jeans, combat boots and band t-shirts and his ‘Don’t Give a Fuck’ attitude made Levi Ackerman fucking appealing.

At least, Y/N thought so. She was sure that plenty of others had batted their lashes at the handsome man. All the piercings in the world couldn’t hide the startling silver blue eyes and the even features. His black hair screamed to be pulled while he was wrecking her, that lithe and muscular body doing wickedly delicious things to hers.

She wanted him, watched him from the corner of her eye as he worked, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he drew the latest piece that everyone would be clamoring for on their bodies.

He didn’t run a gun, he left that for his business partners. No, Levi was an artist to his very soul. His fingers created magic that his mind could conjure up. He had taken that and built a successful business with his friends. It didn’t hurt that his body was a canvas, a walking advertisement for Farlan’s skill with a tattoo gun.

She had been hired to schedule the appointments and man the front desk, for Levi and Farlan when Isabel was too far advanced in her pregnancy to stay at the shop all day. She and the bubbly red head had bonded, laughing easily as she had shown her the computer system and had given her some tips for working with her husband and her “brother” as she called Levi.

Her little crush had blown up into full on need. Her imagination taking over as she watched the muscles in his forearms flex as he sketched a new rough design, or the way his shirt pulled tight across his back as he walked around stretching from sitting in one position too long.

She knew that he probably had no interest in her. Figuring her too straight laced to even consider. She had no visible tattoos, something that was considerably odd for someone who worked in a tattoo shop. She didn’t even have piercings beyond the earrings she wore in her lobes.

Y/N was less decorated in the jewelry department, but Levi had his lower lip pierced on the side, a piercing in his eyebrow, another in his tongue, plus four in each ear. He didn’t gauge his ears, instead it was a lovely combination of studs and small hoops in his ears. She hadn’t missed the bars that poking through his tight t-shirts, indicating both nipples were pierced. There was no way he would ever be interested in a person like her.

~~~~~

Farlan’s call took less that five minutes. The sandy blonde had gone stark white as he stammered into his phone.

“I’ll be right there!.....No! Isabel, DO NOT THINK OF DRIVING YOURSELF TO THE HOSPITAL. I’m on my way.” His eyes were wide with wonder as he looked down at the screen as it went dark.

Levi grinned as he shoved his childhood friend, taking the tattoo gun out of his hand. “Go, dumb ass. She will try to drive herself if you don’t. I’ll finish up here.” He said, shoving him closer to the door.

Y/N handed him his jacket as she gave him a hug. “Go on Daddy! I can’t wait. Let us know how it goes, okay? I’ll come as soon as we close up.” She said, grinning at his dazed expression.

“S-she’s.....the...baby...” Farlan stumbled out of the shop, shaking his head before running to his car.

Levi shook his head as he looked down at the client, assessing where Farlan had left off. He clicked his tongue before pulling on a set of gloves and getting to work.

~~~~~

Y/N had called the last two clients scheduled and explained the situation and offering to let Levi fulfill the appointment. Both had been willing to reschedule, wanting Farlan to complete the work they had wanted. It allowed them to close the shop a few hours early since they did not take walk-ins unless it was for a consultation.

She swept the floors in the back room while Levi stood at the sink, meticulously cleaning the gun and preparing it for the sterilization machine it would bake in. She moved over to Levi’s drawing table, stopping when she caught sight of his latest creation. It was a beautiful mix of gothic and innocence. Skulls and roses intertwined, the vines holding the bones in place as it threaded up the page.

Levi snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” She asked, her head cocked to the side as she wondered what he found so funny.

“You.” The answer was short, much like the man.

“Me what?” Y/N demanded.

He set the gun in the machine and flipped the switch, the blue light coming on as the sterilization process started. He turned around and leaned against the counter.

“Acting like you’re interested in a tattoo.” He said, folding his arms over his chest and smirking at her.

She gaped at him like a fish as she tried to formulate a response.

“Like a good girl like you would ever be interested in something like that. You’re so straight laced it’s painful.” He scoffed.

“I-I have tattoos!” She exclaimed, wincing slightly at how defensive it came out.

He quirked an eyebrow as he pushed off the edge of the counter, stalking closer with an amused look in his slate eyes.

“Show me.” He demanded.

Y/N blushed as she looked down. “I’d have to...to pull down my pants.”

“And?” He asked nonchalantly. “Show me.”

He took the broom from her, setting it against the table as she gathered her nerves and reached for the band of her leggings. Thanking all the Gods in existence that she had gotten waxed the week prior and she had decided to wear some decidedly pretty underwear, she pulled them down to show the small rose tattoo that she had on her hipbone.

His chuckle was low and a bit condescending. “Oh yes a wild child.”

She turned around to show the ink on her lower back, right above the seam of her ass. A finger reached out to trace the slightly raised ink under her skin, making her jolt and spin back around.

He just moved his finger to the rose on her hip. “This is shit.” He said bluntly.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but he continued on.

“I could design something much better for your skin. Highlight the tone and let it stand out as a canvas.” The low words curled heat low in her belly as his finger drove her crazy as it traced the lines of the ink.

“What would you do?” She asked, unable to keep the slight breathlessness from her tone.

His hand yanked her legging down a bit more as he knelt down. Looking up at her, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as mischief flashed in his eyes. His warm hand rested on the side of her thigh, right above her knee.

“Start here.” He said, squeezing gently before guiding it up to cover the front of her thigh. “It would cover your thigh; big, bright and beautiful.”

She let out a ragged breath, watching his hand on her, the ink covered hand a contrast to the smooth unblemished skin she had.

He shifted up slightly, his had on her hip, fingers curling around it rather possessively. “Coming up and covering this piece of shit with a real rose, in full bloom. So life like you can practically smell it.”

She couldn’t believe the purr in his voice, the low cadence was almost lover like as he stood and his hand slipped under her shirt. It grazed her flanks, making her shiver. “Vines trailing up your side, to curl up right here.” His fingers traced the edge of her bra, teasing the skin with light strokes as he watched her watching him.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She felt like her body was wax, melting slowly under the heat of his hand. Y/N couldn’t help her reaction to him, she had admired him for so long, fantasized about him too often to be calm with his hands on her.

Levi’s other hand tightened on her other hip, his eyes demanding as he stared into hers. The silent question passing between them, her answer in the small whimper she gave him.

He pulled her bra up in a smooth motion as he covered her breast with his warm palm. Y/N’s eyes closed as she arched up against him. He chewed on his lip ring for just a second, feeling her nipple pebble in his palm before leaning forward and kissing her.

She loved the feeling of his tongue rubbing against hers as he explored her mouth. The ball of the tongue ring making her shiver. She could just imagine how that would feel against her nipple or on her clit.

He backed her against the counter, lifting her up and sliding between her thighs after he had taken off her shoes and leggings. Her hand roamed under his shirt, lifting it up to expose the ink infused skin. Her mouth watered as he pulled back and lifted the shirt off with a smirk. The tattoos didn’t cover the fact that he was ripped. His hard muscles flexing and bunching under the skin as he leaned back in to kiss her again.

Her hands brushed over the bars through his nipples, his own shiver making her grin against his mouth. He pulled away to lift off her shirt and bra with a quick flick of his wrists, his mouth latching onto her collarbone as he nibbled his way down her chest.

Levi’s mouth on her breast was amazing, the ball of the tongue ring running over her nipple as he lapped at her. Her hands flew to his head and threaded into his hair. Her gasp filled the back room as he tugged on it before switching over to her neglected breast.

Her legs wrapped around him, tugging him closer. He growled against her as he rutted against her. The feeling of his hard cock pressed enticingly against her was enough to make her beg.

“Please.” She breathed, tugging on his hair hard. His fingers dug into her hips, slipping under her underwear and tugging them down and baring her to him.

He pulled away and looked down at the bare, wet folds of skin. His eyes darkened at how wet she was. “Next time. I’m going to taste you.” He growled.

Y/N went for his belt buckle. Her hands shaking slightly as she opened the buttons and slipped a hand inside to grip him. Her eyes widened as she felt something she hadn’t expected at all.

Levi grinned wickedly at her as he pushed his pants and boxers down, exposing the long curved length, a pierce tip with a curved bar in it. Her eyes were fixed on it as he took himself in hand and gave the stiff member a few pumps with his hand.

“Oh....” Y/N’s confidence faltered a bit as she started.

“Hey.” Her eyes flew up to his face. He gave her a serious look, comforting her. “It okay. It’ll feel good. It’s just a piercing. I can take it out.” He offered.

“No.” She shook her head.

“You want this, Y/N?” He asked quietly, moving closer to cup her face.

“Yes.” She breathed. “I want you.”

He leaned forward to kiss her, his hand around his cock as he rubbed it up and down her slit, wetting himself with her arousal. She moaned into his mouth, making his cock jump in his hand.

He nibbled her lip, biting down on it before releasing it with a groan. “I’ve wanted you for months. Since we hired you.”

Her hands froze as they traveled up his back, pulling back to look at him. His slight redness told her he was telling the truth. She yanked him back to her and kissed him passionately, pushing her hips forward to catch on the tip of his cock.

Levi’s hand flew to her hip as he snapped his hips forward, sheathing himself in her core in one hard thrust. Her head flew back, exposing the column of her throat that he attacked eagerly as he set a hard pace.

He hammered into her, the ball of the piercing pushing against her cervix and making her gasp with every thrust. He was making her see stars every time he pushed forward, her hips shifting forward to meet him.

He pulled her closer, pressing the cold steel of his nipple bars against her chest. His hands running up and down her back, urging her on as he kept thrusting with abandon. His grunts and slight groans against her ear making her tighten her legs around her, pulling him deeper into her.

“L-Levi.” His name poured off her tongue with a cry. Her body tightening as she bowed up. He gritted his teeth against the feeling of her cumming around him. He didn’t stop, actually moved faster as he pushed her harder over the edge of pleasure.

His own release tingling at the base of his spine. He hadn’t talked to her about birth control. Hadn’t even thought about a condom. Stupid and reckless, something he never was in sex, it was Y/N that clouded his mind and made him think of nothing else.

“G-gonna cum.” He panted, moving his hands to the counter, ready to push away.

“I-IUD.” Y/N gasped out, her hands moving down to grip his ass.

Levi groaned, loudly as he felt his body stiffen. His thrust deep as he poured himself into her, twitching with every pump of cum he released. “Fuuuuck.”

Y/N sighed as she felt him sag against her. His heavy breathing against her shoulder oddly sweet at she reached up and petted his hair. He might look like at bad boy from all outward appearances, but he was nothing but considerate to her.

He lifted his head up and leaned in for another kiss. “Lets go to the hospital and see the baby. Then I want to take you out for dinner.” He said, stealing kisses between words.

Bad boy punk....more like softy.

Mobile MasterList

#levi ackerman #punk levi fanfiction #punk levi x reader #levi fanfiction #levi modern fanfiction #levi modern au #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader

[travllingbunny]

The 100 rewatch: 5x02 Red Queen

Note: I’m afraid that I’ll have to delay my review of 7x12 The Stranger a bit longer - maybe till Friday (because I’m busy with work, and I think that one may take a bit more time to finish), but in the meantime, here’s - finally - a continuation of my season 5 rewatch reviews. It happens to be the only seasons I haven’t covered yet - except for 5x01 Eden, which I rewatched a few months ago after 7x02 The Garden, because I wanted to compare the two. I was planned to do Red Queen right afterwards - it’s interesting to compare and contrast Octavia’s character transformations in season 5 and season 7 - but it didn’t pan out that way. But now, @jeanie205 and me have started another joint rewatch during the hiatus, this one of season 5. (She only saw it live, week to week, and hasn’t rewatched it yet, I binged it and this is my second rewatch.)

...............................

I’ve always thought of season 5 as a season with a really strong beginning - the first 3 or 4 episodes are fantastic - which drags a bit in the middle before ending a very strong two-part finale.. The 6-year jump, in terms of storytelling, had both good and bad results. These two opening episodes, Eden and Red Queen, really make the best out of the time jump, with flashbacks about Clarke surviving on her own on a desolated Earth and meeting Madi, and flashbacks of what happened to Wonkru in the bunker. It says a lot that we got half an episode of Clarke surviving on Earth, a full episode plus a bunch of flashbacks in 5x11 about the bunker... and nothing about the Ring (till that one flashback in season 7). It’s because the life on the Ring was so boring and uneventful that the show didn't care to show anything of those 6 years. Clarke’s peaceful life with Madi in Eden also happened off-screen - we only saw their first meeting and their later relationship in the present - but Clarke’s two months of terrible hardship got covered in amazing 20 minutes. But the bunker is where things were the most intense. 

If the Ring seems to be just boring everyday life of 7 people who can’t go anywhere for 6 years, and if Clarke got to live in Eden (paradise) with Madi after the purgatory of 40 50+ days in the desert, the bunker is clearly Hell. It is a claustrophobic underground world full of anger, conflict and violence that certainly looks like Hell by the end of the episode.

The last scene, with its horror imagery, reminded me of the current Sanctum storyline in season 7 (both Blodreina and Sheidheda like using skulls as decoration), and the comparison shows exactly why the bunker/Blodreina story worked so well, and why the S7 Sanctum story does not. It’s all about moral ambiguity and keeping the audience on its toes, pulling the rug from under us by making us unsure how to feel about characters and their actions, which Red Queen does so well (and which S7 Sanctum storyline completely fails to do, being very predictable and black and white). Red Queen is so well done and intense that I don’t even mind that Clarke and Bellamy and some of my other favorites aren’t in it.

Timeline: The episode starts 42 days after Praimfaya and ends 46 days after Praimfaya.

The opening scenes take place at the same time when Clarke arrived in Polis and tried to open the door. Clarke's only listed as appearing in this episode because of this repeated scene from Eden. (It’s weird that apparently not just the Temple, but the Tower also apparently fell on the entrance. The Tower is next to the Temple, but I’m not sure if that would really happen?) I’m not sure what exactly caused the rubble to fall down, but this is the moment where everyone loses hope, since they know they probably can’t get out, even though they have 5 years to try to think of the solution.

Niylah has found a bunch of books and some other stuff in the bunker, and one of the books was Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which we now know was Callie Cadogan’s book. (That was a nice Easter Egg in 7x08.) Niylah knows Bellamy used to read to Octavia about Ancient Rome - she must have heard it from her or from Clarke or someone else in Arkadia over the last month or so that she spent with them. It is still surprising she knows about Ovid, specifically. What she doesn’t know when she gives Octavia the book is how symbolic it is of what happens to Octavia throughout this episode - her metamorphosis into Blodreina. (We even see the opening line on screen: “ I intend to speak of forms changed into new entities..”).

Octavia Blake is a character who has undergone more dramatic transformations than any other character on The 100. I wasn’t a big fan of her in some of the early seasons, but now I think that, after what the show has done with her since season 4, she has probably had the best character arc of any character on the show. (Some would say it’s Murphy, but that’s because people like to think of character development as going from bad to good, a positive progression - which is a lot more predictable and done quite often. What the show did with Octavia is much more complex and unexpected.) Her turn to the dark side and subsequent redemption were really well done, and Marie Avgeropoulos is one of the best actors on the show (I’ve always thought so regardless of how I felt about her character at any given time) and pulled off her changes in season 5 so well.

What the episode does really well is maintain ambiguity about Octavia’s development as a leader. The first time you watch it, it’s not clear what is she developing into. Is this a story about a well-meaning but still inexperienced teenage girl becoming a great leader? Well, the cliffhanger of 5x01 showed the fighting pits and the new scary Blodreina look, so it’s already hinted it’s not quite like that. But the episode still makes you root for Octavia, who’s up against not just the difficult circumstances - trapped in the bunker, limited resources - but also tribalism of Skaikru and 11 Grounder clans and a lot short-sighted people who hate and keep fighting each other. You just can’t not root for her when she starts forcing them to obey, near the end of the episode (and it’ certainly comes off as a very badass scene - if a bit unrealistic, since Octavia has only been training in Grounder-style combat for about 7-8 months at that point) - but then things may start getting a little ominous as she repeats the mantra “You are Wonkru, or you are the enemy of Wonkru. Choose!” (“You’re either with us, or against us” statements by political leaders are always worrying), even before the ending, where both Octavia and the bunker look like something out of a horror movie. This entire storyline made the point that unity can’t be forced on people, especially not by a single all-powerful leader, without turning into tyranny and oppression.

What’s also morally ambiguous is advice from the mortally wounded Jaha, which ends up influencing Octavia’s decisions and development as a leader. Jaha was always one of the most morally grey characters - he’s not evil, always had good intentions, but his ruthlessness and willingness to disregard individual lives in the name of the Big Picture of saving “his (collective) people” and his complete confidence that this is the right leadership style, were always very disturbing, and made him the villain in the eyes of - and the lives of - all the young protagonists of the show. In season 4, some of them started seeing his perspective. faced with the similar difficult choices. After Clarke in season 4, Octavia also starts seeing his perspective - which is particularly disturbing because it is the same man who executed her mother for just having a child, and locked her up for a year as a criminal just for being born. But Jaha’s actions in Red Queen are some of his most heroic ever in the show, and he gets a heroic death and a moving death scene... while still being kind of a real d1ck, someone who justifies Aurora’s execution to Octavia by saying her mother made herself “the enemy” and bringing them “closer to death”. In the context, Jaha as an unexpected mentor to Octavia can be seen as something good or at least a necessary for her to develop into a capable leader... Or is it? The line between hero and villain can be very thin. Sure, it helps Octavia resolve the situation, save hundreds of people in the bunker, and apparently unite everyone into Wonkru - but as we see by the end of the episode and the rest of the season, it also ends up making her a tyrant who ends up getting hundreds of her people killed in the name of saving “her people” and delivering them to paradise as a messiah. She becomes the same thing she hated, an oppressor like those who forced her to hide under the floor and killed her mother.  

(This dialogue from season 4 is pretty relevant here:  

Clarke: You know, he used to be everything that I hated. Maybe he was keeping us together.

Jasper: When Jaha's looking reasonable, it's time to reassess.)

I have to say, however, in spite of all the moral greyness... I can’t stand Kara Cooper. She’s one of the few characters on the show that just piss me off to no end and I can’t find any sympathy for her. I know that it’s different for others, I’ve seen people say they see her perspective, and yes, the show  gives her a tragic backstory (losing her father in the Culling on the Ark and her husband in the Second Culling in 4x12)... but this time I can’t bring myself to care, because: 

She wants to leave some 1100+ people to die, even though she should be well aware that, even if there is a problem of overpopulation in the bunker*, she really doesn’t have to kill that many people, 

She’s a scientist and gives a speech about how the lack of diversity would lead to a massive die-off for plants... Surely she should know that the same would happen to the humans, and that a human race can’t survive with just around 80 people?! which leads me to

She doesn’t care about the survival of the human race and is ready to condemn it to extinction, just so she and a few others would live more comfortably and wouldn’t be in danger of immediate death, 

She says she wants to save “her people” - but it’s all about tribalism (Skaikru or not Skaikru?) and not love, and she is a hypocrite, because she is ready to leave a bunch of Skaikru outside the door to die, too, 

She is a hypocrite when she acts like Abby did something terrible by opening the bunker door to save Kane (which also saved hundreds of people more than would have otherwise been saved) - basically, she’s like “ Abby, how dare you not prioritize my husband, a guy you didn't even know, over your boyfriend? You're so terrible!" Sure. That makes sense. 

Her arguments about why the bunker “belongs” to Skaikru are rubbish: “ "Jaha found it. It belonged to us" - even if we accept the finders-keepers idea, actually, multiple people helped find the bunker. Yes, Jaha was the driving force, but Bellamy found the coin, and Kane, Monty and Gaia all massively contributed to finding it - without Gaia's info they wouldn't have ever found it - as did Indra, and the fighters from Trikru and their allies who guarded the temple so they could do it. She just ignored all these facts. If they had kept the bunker in 4x11, they would have left most of these people out (including Kane and Monty). Oh, and she is now trying to take the bunker back... and she’s ready to leave Jaha himself outside! 

And after all of that, she saves her own skin by being the most ruthless one of everyone Octavia sent to the fighting pit and killing them all - and then becomes Octavia’s right hand and sycophant. What integrity! 

While many people seem to think that Octavia’s downfall started with the cannibalism during the Dark Year, I think it’s the decision at the end of Red Queen to open the fighting pits and start punishing every crime by throwing people in them. This is her first really bad decision. In practice, this form of “justice” means that you can commit any crime you want if you're good at killing people once you’re in the pit. it fosters a culture of violence - even more so when death matches are entertainment. So, in the end, the guy from Delphi clan who just stole blankets (the Sangedakru delegate Brell demanded death for that - their laws are pretty draconian, makes me wonder in retrospect if Sheidheda was the one who first imposed them) died, while Kara effing Cooper got to live because she was the most ruthless person there. What I think Octavia should have done is - she should have executed the murderers and the leaders of the rebellion and given minor punishments to people who did things like steal blankets. (it's been argued they needed Cooper for the farm - but that was not the reasoning, Octavia left her with everyone else to fight.) 

This was Octavia, sadly, combining not the best, but the worst of the Ark system (death as the punishment for every crime or minor misdemeanor), Grounder tradition (death matches as the solution to everything) and her childhood stories of the Ancient Rome. If you're using Ancient Rome gladiator fights as your role model...you've probably stopped being a good guy.

The last scene, fighting pits 6 years later, is similar to the cliffhanger end of the previous episode, only now we get the cliffhanger of Kane being one of the fighters. Octavia is in her full Blodreina mode now. Not just her outward look has changed, but her facial expressions, too - this is the first time we see that cold, sinister Blodreina smile. Indra doesn’t look too happy, Gaia and Ethan are there. Miller- even after that much time - doesn’t look too happy with Cooper being there, by Octavia's side.

This is straight up horror imagery. There is even some sort of structure made of skulls next to where she's sitting!  Not exactly a throne of skulls like Sheidheda has in season 7 but something similar.

But here’s why this works so differently than Sheidheda and his throne of skulls in season 7 and why people are bored by the latter. There is no ambiguity in the S7 Sanctum story. Sheiheda is completely, cartoonishly evil, there is nothing complex about it, Murphy is now definitely a good guy, as are Emori and Indra, and none of them are in conflict about how to deal with him (except for a short moment in 7x09, which was OOC for Indra). The only characters that we may still wonder 'what are they gonna do? which side will they take?" are minor, underdeveloped characters like Nikki, or Knight (you're in trouble when your main question is "will Knight change sides?"). It's a very simple black and white story, the kind t100 normally doesn't do and Shady’s throne of . But when Octavia has her face painted in blood, has skulls next to her, and a creepy smile while she’s deciding the fate of the winner, that is genuinely disturbing because it's Octavia. You’ve followed her for seasons, and you’ve spent the whole episode rooting for her to solve the problems and deal with those really awful and annoying people... and then she does, and oh my god, suddenly she turns into a villain, and that’s chilling. 

Other observations:

I love the Kabby scene where they're talking while chained up in the farm, while a guy is playing guitar in the background. I think Abby was pretty unfair to Kane when she said he took away her choice to kill herself - because she didn’t try to kill herself, she tried to make Kane kill her, and then she expected him to be able to do it, even though she never could: not only did she open the bunker door to save Kane, she destroyed the radiation chamber (possibly dooming thousands of people) because she couldn’t allow Clarke to risk her life (in 4x08). Kane may be more of a “Head” than “Heart” of the two of them, but Abby should have realized he wouldn’t be able to carry her unconscious body (or even let someone else do it) and let her die of radiation. He loves her and he doesn’t really have anyone else. Abby really seemed to be taking out her own self-loathing out on him. It was still a sweet moment when he finally dropped the pretense that he saved her for being a doctor and admitted it was a Heart decision, and she finally admitted she would do the same and never regretted opening the bunker door to save him. 

But we get a hint about that Abby has already developed a pill addiction, which will strain and almost destroy their relationship. Kabby was a really well written relationship - we saw them falling in love over 4 seasons (which rarely happens with romantic relationships on this show) - but then we also saw that being together and loving each other is not enough to be “happy ever after”, not when you live in f*cked up circumstances and when you both have to deal with all sorts of problems. Love can’t conquer everything, which is more realistic way to depict romance.

Mackson actually have some screentime in this episode. This is actually the first time we see that they are together (after a brief flirting scene in season 4). I had forgotten that Miller says the L word in this episode: "You're a healer, nor a fighter. That's why I love you.” I thought “This was pretty fast” - but when you take into account they’ve been together for a couple of months, it’s actually not that fast compared to most of the romances on the show... It’ just that most of their relationships happens off-screen.

So Level C (which Cooper and her people took over) was where Cadogan planned to be with his family if the rest of the bunker goes to hell. Makes sense he’d do something like that.

Indra was already not a fan of the Commanders at this point, telling Gaia: "Your real Commanders would have left you to burn", "the spirits of the Commanders have abandoned us"

We got two Wells mentions in this episode! One when Jaha was reading a children’s book (apparently The Giving Tree - thanks @jeanie205​) to Ethan, and says it was his son's favorite bedtime story, and another one when Jaha is dying and says “Take me to my wife. Take me to Wells”.

ALIE would be proud of these people: they all keep repeating “There are too many people in this bunker” throughout the episode. Thanos would be proud of them, too. Why not instead say: “There aren’t enough resources in this bunker”? No worries then, they will manage to get 1/3 of those people killed - 814 will remain instead of 1200 by the time they get out of the bunker... What few characters in the show ever seem to realize are too few people for the human race to survive. That is, if they weren't lucky to always be running into more humans, and then everyone blows it away by killing each other, again.

A few lines in this episode feel like dark foreshadowing:

Abby makes the first mention of cannibalism, a dark period in Ark’s history called the “Blight"

"It won't be that easy", says Octavia to Cooper when Cooper wanted to kill herself. One could say the same when Octavia tried to sacrifice herself and die in 5x12

"I'll take care of the boy” - Octavia promises to Jaha to take care of little Ethan, just as Jaha promised to Ethan’s father. That didn't turn out so well in the end...

Rating: 9/10

#the 100 #the 100 rewatch #the 100 5x02 #red queen #the 100 season 5 #octavia blake #blodreina #thelonius jaha #marcus kane #abby griffin #kabby #anti kara cooper #indra kom trikru #indra #wonkru #mackson #nate miller