#but he IS staring starry eyed at his father like WOW MY DAD IS THE COOLEST

[nevertheless-moving]

Lost Luke Part Two

Continued from here

Star Wars Time Travel AU #19

“Master Owen, may I present two most important visitors?“ C3PO said self-importantly (C3PO! His Mom kept him! His Mom finished Threepio!).

“I'm Anakin Skywalker.”

Anakin was practically vibrating with frustrated uncertainty. He could sense his mother inside- weak, but not so much as his visions had led him to fear. And something else... a powerful but diffuse presence of light somewhere nearby. The man in front of him didn’t feel like a threat but he could practically hear his mother’s screams...

“Oh. Oh! It’s good to meet you. I’m Owen Lars. This is my girlfriend, Beru.”

“Hello.” Beru smiled welcomingly at them both.

“I’m Padme.” This...wasn’t quite what she had expecting. Anakin had been so tense, but the couple in front of them seemed honestly glad to see them, and at the moment Anakin seemed to be more confused than angry or scared.

“Well... I guess I'm your stepbrother. We thought you might show up someday. Luke was convinced you would show up soon but the more time passed, the less sure-”

"My mother is here. I’d like to see her,” Anakin said, mostly managing to make it sound like a request, and not a threat. 

Owen nodded. “Of course, come inside. She’s still taking it easy after her ordeal.”

“What ordeal?” Anakin demanded. But before Owen could answer, they had reached the resting alcove and a woman was raising herself from the sofa, eyes lighting up.

“Mom,” Anakin choked out. “You’re- you’re really here. I thought- Are you ok?”

“Oh Ani. I knew I would see you again,” Shmi whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

In their rush to embrace each other, Anakin almost missed a young man slip away from the room, but something caught his eye; he tracked the blonde head as it disappeared around a corner.

“Now that your here, I’m more than ok.” She tried to pull him to take a seat but he stood rigidly, face growing hard.

“So I have a step brother now, huh?” he asked tightly, a million questions passing silently between them.

“Lars is a good man, and a good husband,” she said, cutting to the heart of the matter. He freed me because he loved me, but he did so without any expectations or promises from me. I moved in with him because I cared about him, and because I wanted to. I married him because I loved him. It would mean a lot to me if you would give him a chance. You have... more family here than you were expecting, but they are all your family, not just mine.”

Anakin nodded, swallowing something hard that had caught in his throat. 

He pulled back to nod at Padme, who had been quietly waiting in the corner. “You remember the...Queen’s handmaiden, of course.”

“Padme!” Shmi cried, delighted. “How wonderful to see you again. Oh, you look even more radiant than I remember. “They embraced, and Padme smiled, blinking back tears. 

“Shmi...it’s so good to see you again. I’ve never forgotten your kindness. I’m sorry, I should have returned earlier-”

“Nevermind that right now, I didn’t let you into my home because I expected something in return. And I’m sure you’ve been busy the last few years-"

She shepherded them both into a seat, and retrieved a pitcher of water to share. “I admit, I assumed when Anakin left to join the Jedi he would be forbidden from maintaining contact with anyone outside the order...” She threw Anakin a questioning look, and he blushed in reply.

“Padme’s a senator. As a Jedi, I was assigned to protect her against some recent threats.”

“I consider Obi-Wan and Anakin to be friends of mine. The Jedi might be forbidden attachment, but the people of Naboo owe both of them a great debt of gratitude.” She laid a hand a hand on Anakin’s arm and smiled.

“Obi-Wan?” Shmi asked.

Anakin and Padme exchanged a startled glance. “Oh right, you wouldn’t have met him...” Anakin trailed off, looking confused by the idea that his Mother didn’t know Obi-Wan. “He’s my Ma- my teacher. And my friend. He’s looked out for me ever since Qui-Gon passed.”

“Qui-Gon died!” Shmi cried, alarmed. “How? When?”

Anakin shuffled awkwardly. “Um...two days after we left Tatooine. I’ve been with Obi-Wan ever since.”

Shmi looked distraught and Anakin rushed to reassure her. “Obi-Wan’s great, I promise! He’s done a great job of taking care of me! He was Qui-Gon’s apprentice, you never met him because he was guarding the ship when they landed on Tatooine.”

“I- I see. So he’s someone you trust, then.”

“With my life. He’s- the Jedi aren’t supposed to admit to attachments, but he’s, well, he’s my family, just as much as your are,” He said, leaning forward earnestly. 

“I’m sure he feels the same way about you,” Shmi agreed faintly.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Anakin responded with a wry grin.

She shot him a knowing look. “I would.” Before Anakin could reply, she moved the conversation smoothly forward. 

“Love- I’m so glad to see you, but I must ask, what brings you to Tatooine now? Was it simply hiding the lady or...or did you see something that drew you here.”

Anakin bowed his head. “I saw you- crying out for help. You were in pain, in danger and- it kept getting worse. But now that I’m here” He hesitated, shrinking in on himself, ashamed, “I feel like- the danger’s passed. Owen mentioned you had an ordeal. Did- did someone else already rescue you?”

“Oh Ani- I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’m perfectly fine, now.”

“But you weren’t fine before- and I wasn’t here” he responded, upset.

“I was captured by Tusken raiders.” Shmi said bluntly, and Anakin let out a horrified moan. “Anakin Skywalker, listen to me, this is going to sound strange, but in a way you did rescue me. It’s- it’s going to hard to explain- but- I literally wouldn’t have survived if not for you.”

“What do you mean?” Anakin asked desperately.

She sighed, then called out. “Luke? Luke can you come in please?”

The blonde teen from earlier stumbled in to the room. “Sorry! I wasn’t eavesdropping! I mean- I could barely hear what you were saying anyway.”

Luke glanced around, torn between staring at the three seated at the table. Anakin couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was practically shining with light. Anakin didn’t know why but, for all that the boy before him couldn’t be much younger than Anakin himself, he felt like the force was telling him to protect the person standing before him.

“Hello,” Luke said, shyly ducking his head. “It’s...very nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Anakin said, smiling. “Are you...also my step-brother?” he guessed.

Luke rubbed a hand on the back of his neck nervously. “No- I’m not...I’m not your brother, exactly, though if its easier to think of me that way, I totally understand.”

“Luke rescued me from the Tuskens,” Shmi said with a fond smile.

“You rescued me,” he corrected. “You came up with the escape plan! If it been just been me at that tent- well, I definitely wouldn’t have made it on my own.”

“We rescued each other,” Shmi agreed, making it sound like an old argument.

Anakin rose from the table, bowing deeply. “Then I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay.”

“Oh! You don’t- you really don’t have to do that! Please. If anything its the other way around! But anyway, we’re family, there’s no debts with family.”

Anakin grinned. “I would be honored to consider you my family.”

Luke flushed. “That’s- that’s really nice to hear. But you don’t even know me yet.”

“I know enough.” Anakin declared. “I could sense it in the force before I even saw you, but I didn’t recognize it right away. We are family, I know it.”

“Oh,” Luke said, looking starry eyed.

Shmi laughed. “Come on, Luke, both of you sit down before you pass out. I told you he’d be crazy about you. You’re a Skywalker, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”

“Maybe I should give you some privacy...” Padme said, inclining her head diplomatically. “I can see this is a family affair...” 

“No, Padme stay,” Anakin said softly. ‘You came all this way with me- I’m glad to share something good with you.”

Padme smiled tentatively and they all squeezed together around the low table.

“A Skywalker!” Anakin said, sounding amazed. “You mean- you said I wasn’t your brother but...”

Luke shifted in his seat anxiously. “Ok, this is going to sound crazy-”

“I believe you,” Anakin interrupted. Luke’s joy was leaking out into the force, lighting up the road to an almost visible extent. Between that and the revelation that his mother was safe, Anakin felt practically giddy. 

Luke grinned and a flash of relief leaked off of him into the force. He took a deep breath before blurting out “I’m a time traveler!”

Padme froze and Anakin’s jaw dropped. “You’re- how?”

“I have no idea! I didn’t even realize at first, I was so confused why Owen and Beru looked young, I thought I was suffering from Sand Madness at first! But- it’s the only thing that makes sense” The explanation came tumbling out of Luke’s mouth. “I still kind-of think I’m sand mad sometimes, but I’ve been here for weeks now and...I um, know stuff that proved it to everyone. I’m from about 23 years in the future, I think. The calender’s kind-of changed...”

He trailed off, looking hopefully at Anakin.

“You are- not my brother” Anakin said, thinking out loud. “I- I am your Father” he gasped.

Padme startled, “That’s impossible.”

 It sounded insane, but when Anakin searched his feelings he knew it to be true.

“That’s what you meant when you said that I did rescue you!” he said, excitedly turning to his Mother. “My son time traveled to save you!”

“I-I really don’t know how it happened,” Luke stammered out. “I didn’t do it on-purpose, exactly.”

“It was the will of the force!” Anakin declared, actually meaning it.

“I was so worried you wouldn’t believe me!” Luke confessed. “But I- I really wanted to meet you.”

“Meet me?” Anakin asked, heart sinking. “I didn’t raise you?”

Luke looked down. “You died- when I was little. I don’t know all the details, but I’ll tell you what I do know.” He raised his head, looking fiercely determined. “We can stop it- I’m sure of it. I already helped save my Grandma, and I didn’t even know what was going on then!”

“You- you did, didn’t you?” Anakin said, choked up with pride. “I- Can I hug you? Son?”

They leaped up from their seats to embrace each other. Every Skywalkers’ eye grew damp while Padme watched dumbfounded at the extremely unlikely turn of events.

Time Travel. Well, if anyone could pull it off, it would be Anakin’s son.

Part One - - - Part Two - - - Part Three - - - Part Four

#my au #star wars #star wars au no 19 #lost luke au #time travel fix it #star wars au #Anakin Skywalker #luke skywalker #so this au is all about Anakin and Luke being super adorably devoted to each other #Anakin's like BABEY? FAMILY? SON? SAVED MY MOM? PRECIOUS BOY? #while Luke's over there like COOL? FATHER? COOL DAD? PLAY CATCH? PILOT? #And its absurd because they ARE LITERALLY THE SAME AGE #but luke IS 100% more baby than anakin on account of not being a child slave and not growing up in wizard cult #like he's not NAIVE #tatooine is a rough place to grow up #but he IS staring starry eyed at his father like WOW MY DAD IS THE COOLEST #and anakin is soaking it up because I AM THE COOLEST #and everytime Luke does something extra in the force he doesn't get jealous like he would any other person getting attention #because THATS HIS SON HE MADE THAT YOU GO LUKE #padme's also charmed but a little freaked out #Obiwan is so tired you have no idea #YOU HAVE A TWIN #WHAT THE FUCK #WHAT THE FUCK ANAKIN HOW COULD YOU NOT MENTION YOU HAVE A TWIN #ANOTHER SKYWALKER #but anakin just smiles knowingly like you L O V E ME #if i died you would TOTALLY become a hermit to watch over my son and tell him cool stories about me #Obi-wan: that is INCREDIBLY specific

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

#Obey me #Obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #Obey me Headcanons #If you got through all of that... thank you! you’re a real one! #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me MC #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #obey me asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Diavolo #obey me dialuci #Dialuci #Obey me! Lucifer #obey me! belphegor #obey me! beelzebub #Obey me! Mammon #obey me! leviathan #Obey me! Satan #obey me! asmodeus #Obey me! Diavolo #Lucifer’s Kid #This was legit so fun to write! I’ve been thinking about this idea for a while now and it’s so nice to see it finally in written format! #keep in mind: I wrote this with the idea that MC was 13/14 years old

[theobligatedklutz]

omg hi i’m assuming you take requests for headcanons?

bc i know everyone writes about reggie and Ray father-son relationship or whatever, but what ab alex with ray??? i need some more ray adopting a ghost band + alex’s ‘eh, he’s a dad, it doesn’t count’ bc i just think it’s funny.

thank you haha i love your hc’s

Alex and Ray Headcanons:

Alex doesn't get the initial excitement of just sitting with Ray while he does his everyday things ("Reggie, how does staring at Julie's dad like a creep make you feel better exactly?" "You'll see.") but once he does it himself, he starts to get it. Alex never got to starry-eyed stare at a parental figure in his teenage years. Mostly because Alex's parents would easily find any excuse to leave the room when he entered and barely tolerated him after he came out. With Ray that was easy, he couldn't see Alex so sometimes, when no one else was there, Alex unloaded on Ray. Told him about how Willie made him feel, how all the changes brought him anxiety but he was starting to like them because those changes brought him Julie, Ray, Carlos and Willie.

Ray always feels like there's someone there near him. He thinks it's Rose but the energy he gets is too peppy, too excited and teenager-y to be Rose. Then one day, there's a new presence. It's still soft but it's more-toned down then the first one. And just like the first energy, it craves attention, affection but there's this overwhelming need to be accepted in this energy.

Sometimes Alex catches Ray looking right at him and even though he knows Ray can't see him, he feels like he was caught in the act of self-indulgence and it suddenly feels wrong (even though it isn't, he's just used to not taking up a lot of space in front of moms and dads), like he's violating Ray's time and space. Everytime it happens, Alex poofs off quickly.

Ray finds out about the boys being ghosts. Asks Julie a plethora of questions about them. She lets it slips that Reggie and lately Alex had been spending a lot of time with him.

Ray: "That's why I always felt like I was being watched!" Alex: "dude, I told you you were being creepy!"

When Ray finally processes it, he goes: "so who's the puppy dog I need to desperately hug and who's the one who needs an 'I'm proud of you' pat on the shoulder?"

Reggie and Alex both flush and poof out so quickly in embarassment.

Ray is cooking one time and Alex poofs in to sit on one of the island stools and Ray immediately looks up. Ray: "Alex, right?"

Alex freezes, he almost throws up and poofs out at the exact same time and the spike in fear in the energy is all the answer Ray needs to know yeah yes that's the Alex Julie mentioned. Alex is about to go until Ray softly tells him to "Please don't poof out, please stay." Alex almost doesn't want to listen. He suddenly feels so much fear from being known by Ray. A dad. His dad would never give him the time of day, this feels too new and too scary.

Ray: "Hey Alex, I don't know what's got you so afraid. But I'm here and I'm not gonna reject? you. I think you're a great drummer and you make my ninã very happy. So you make me very happy."

Alex is crying before he even realizes it, hot tears tumbling down his cheeks and Ray feels it, he almost thinks he can hear the way Alex sniffles. "It's ok. I'm here. I'm here." Ray feels a warm pressure behind him and he turns away from the cutting board and feels the pressure wrap around his waist and a heaviness on his shoulder and - wow Alex is taller than Ray imagined- and he circles his arms into the air around him assuming where Alex might be. And then that pressure disappears and he hears an echo of "thank you" that he's pretty sure he's imagined.

Next time Julie goes to band practice in the studio, Ray follows her. Julie: "Dad, what's this about?" Ray: "Remember that hug and shoulder pat I was supposed to give? I'm here today to give them."

Julie can't wipe the soft smile off of her face when Ray tucks himself on the couch while she sits herself down at the piano, completely ignoring the way the boys almost drop their instruments at Ray's presence. They are still freaking out when Julie starts singing and they cut it off abruptly and play their instruments. And Ray stands up as soon as the boys become corporeal and vaguely gestures for Julie to keep singing the lyrics to 'Bright' as he walks over to Reggie, says his piece and pulls him into a hug with Reggie's bass smushed between them. Then he goes to Alex.

"Hey, I know we talked the other day but I just wanted to say this to your face. I'm really proud of you, kid. I think you are the greatest drummer in the world and I'm so proud you got all the way here. I don't know what else is on your mind. But I am happy for you, son."

The 'son' does it. Alex feels like his limbs are jelly, there's a lump in his throat and heat behind his eyes and then Ray is ruffling his hair and pressing a firm hand on his shoulder with the softest smiles on his face and Alex sniffles and drops his drumsticks, steps around his drumset and slams into Ray. Ray stumbles back, arms filled with 155 pounds of teenage boy. This time he has no problem wrapping his arms around Alex.

You're a dad so of course, you'd call me the greatest drummer. Dads don't count but you count.

If you want Ray - Luke or Ray - Reggie Dynamics, send them to my ask box.

#julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #ray molina #reggie peters #alex jatp #reggie jatp #hilow answers #myhcs #ray - alex #ray - reggie

[scarabbai]

What the- i swear I thought I was following you for a long time- I just saw that it wasn't the case smh. Your rr au literally fascinates me. Like I have always had the idea if how they would be in an rr situation. So about this childhood incident you mentioned, what is it. Can I know?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LIKING MY AU (🥺) AND DW, YOUVE ACTUALLY BEEN FOLLOWING FOR A WHILE! Tumblr has a tendency to say you’re not following when you’ve most definitely been following the whole time for some reason??

As for the childhood incident, yes! I might write some of the scenes I’m about to mention in more detail later, but I’ll share what happened now since it’s really important in defining role reversed Jamil and Kalim’s current relationship. It also provides an important glimpse into what it used to be.

(Full story under the cut bc SERIOUSLY I went WAY overboard and it’s super long OTL)

When Kalim and Jamil first met, they weren’t anything close to friends. In fact, they barely got along. Their first meeting happened because Kalim was handpicked by Jamil’s father for his notable loyalty and dedication to the Vipers at his young age and introduced—more like presented—to Jamil as his new playmate and personal servant. Basically, it was Kalim’s job to be—or at least act as—Jamil’s friend.

Even at that young age, Jamil was a stuck up sourpuss who had already developed the nasty habit of looking down on others. After all, he was rich, spoiled, and practically a little prodigy. Nobody he met was ever at his level, and it’s not like he was ever taught humility. Naturally, he drove away practically everyone his own age and therefore didn’t have any friends. This concerned Jamil’s father and thus Kalim was brought into the picture. However, an important thing to note is that Jamil also happens to have a rebellious streak. He hates being coddled and is already very frustrated with his father’s constant attempts to keep him safe (with bodyguards, babysitters, etc) since he feels like he’s “being babied.” Bc of this, he’s very skeptical upon Kalim’s arrival, accuses him of being some other kind of guard in disguise, and is just generally very rude to him.

Obviously that doesn’t sit well with Kalim and they end up bickering for a while (“I’m not a liar!” “Yes you are!”) before Kalim finally catches Jamil’s attention by admitting he isn’t that great with magic yet. This leads to them both calming down and talking about all the stuff in Jamil’s room, which then prompts Jamil to kinda show off his skills in magic as well as his belongings. Jamil’s father checks in on them and sees Kalim cheering Jamil on as he’s showing him a spell he learned, which gets Kalim officially approved to stay by Jamil’s side for the foreseeable future. They still aren’t proper friends at this point, though. Jamil gets annoyed by Kalim’s presence bc it’s a reminder that his dad is still trying to “run his life” by looking out for him, and Kalim is lowkey having second thoughts about this whole “important job” thing bc Jamil’s kinda mean...

Eventually they become more comfortable with each other’s presence, but they still aren’t really friends. They end up with more of a “mastermind and henchmen” dynamic instead, with Jamil leading them both into trouble while Kalim gets the short end of the stick as the (not very believable, so he never actually gets punished) scapegoat of most of Jamil’s schemes. By this point, Kalim has kinda just accepted that this is gonna be the way things are and doesn’t really question it, and Jamil stops seeing Kalim as a nuisance and more like a source of entertainment, praise, etc. Basically Jamil pushes Kalim around bc he knows he can get away with it and bc Kalim will always tell him what he wants to hear. Fun for Jamil! Not so fun for Kalim. This goes on for some time.

About several months to a year or so later, a festival in the city is announced. Being very sheltered and restricted his whole life, Jamil really wants to get out there and see the activities and events that are going to be hosted (especially the dancing! He’s super interested in all the different types of dance that’ll be showcased at the festival). However, his dad comes in the night before the festival and forbids Jamil from going bc “there’s too many people and it’ll be dangerous,” not revealing that he’s heard news of the family’s enemies in the area. Knowing his son is a little schemer but also that he’ll be very upset, he calls Kalim in to stay with Jamil for the rest of the night and the next day not only to make sure he won’t try anything but also to hopefully cheer him up.

Despite knowing full well that orders from his dad > his own wishes and that Kalim has to listen to his dad over him since his dad outclasses him in authority, Jamil’s bitter enough to poke the hornet’s nest and try to bait Kalim into helping him sneak out anyway. In doing so, he pulls some pretty guilt trippy stuff and whines about how he clearly doesn’t have any “real friends” since “real friends” help each other do stupid stuff like sneaking out. He doesn’t expect this to work at all given Kalim’s strict adherence to authority and rules, but he does it anyway bc taking out his frustration over his father’s actions on Kalim is easier than just quietly accepting his dad’s attempt to protect him.

Jamil ends up severely underestimating three very important factors:

Kalim’s own desire to go to the festival

How much his happiness matters to Kalim

The fact that Kalim actually does see him as a friend/hopes they can be true friends

Kalim gets pretty quiet for the rest of the night, and when his required time keeping Jamil company is up, he leaves the room without a word. This makes Jamil all disappointed and kinda upset with himself bc he thinks he’s gonna get ratted out, but nothing ends up happening. The next morning, Kalim shows up to Jamil’s room with two sets of casual clothes from his own wardrobe in his hands and a smile on his face. To Jamil’s utter shock (Kalim has never gone against orders before, especially ones directly from his dad), Kalim explains that he used his usual credibility to his advantage and managed to lie his way to a perfect cover for the both of them, and if they leave now nobody will notice until they’re long gone. He broke the rules for the sake of Jamil’s happiness, and that’s a gesture that means so much to them both it makes Jamil feel kinda funny.

He brushes it off though bc this is his moment! This is the chance he’s been waiting for, and all the different plans and ways to sneak out he thought of while lying awake the night before can finally be put into action with Kalim’s help! With the combined power of Jamil’s strategic thinking and some extra strength/height boosts from Kalim, they manage to make it off the property with the others none the wiser. In order to keep things lowkey, they’re both dressed in the casual clothes Kalim brought, and Jamil has Kalim stop addressing him as “Master Viper/Master Jamil” for the time being so they just seem like two regular kids instead of the Viper heir and his servant. It’s just a small, temporary thing, and Jamil doesn’t even pay it any mind, but it turns out to be a very important equalizing factor for them both. Suddenly, their social standings aren’t nearly as skewed.

Jamil knows exactly what he wants to do at the festival and fully expects things to go his way the whole time, but when they arrive, he sees something he never expected to, and it causes him to forget about his schedule and all the things he was gonna immediately drag Kalim to see and do:

Standing in the sun and in the thick of all the lively activity, Kalim is practically glowing with excitement, flourishing in the crowds and people, his face lighting up in a way Jamil has never seen in the year or so they’ve known each other. He’s so happy and alive and it throws Jamil off completely bc he’s never seen Kalim THIS joyful before. He’s never seen Kalim in his natural element even though they see each other almost every day.

Seeing this change in Kalim leaves Jamil stunned long enough for Kalim to get ahead of himself in excitement and grab Jamil’s hand to pull him along and see all the stalls and colorful sights and gawk and admire all the things they have for sale, things that Kalim knows he can’t afford but wow isn’t it nice to see all these things anyway even if he can’t have them (even if he wishes he could have them) and he’s so starry eyed and he’s pointing out things to Jamil who is still struck by this liveliness in Kalim that he’s never seen before, so shocked and entranced by the life in Kalim’s eyes and the way he’s speaking so fast that his words almost blend together that he reaches into his pocket and pays for each and every trinket Kalim stares longingly at just to keep on seeing his smile, just to see the way Kalim brightens up and jumps up and down with excitement and gratitude (“thank you Jamil-sama, thank you thank you thank you!”) and he lets Kalim be the star of the show for the very first time, lets him be the one in charge of the schedule, following him here and there as Kalim sees something that grabs his attention and then they’re both off like a jet, Kalim weaving through crowds like an expert while Jamil tags along clumsily behind, singing and laughing and there’s this one moment, one magical moment when Kalim stops at a stand selling coconut juice and when he mentions it’s his favorite drink, his favorite flavor ever, Jamil buys them both one coconut each without hesitation, watching as Kalim enjoys his drink like it’s the best thing in the whole entire world (and watching Kalim, he could almost think it was too, even if he doesn’t like it nearly as much) and wonders how in the world he managed to mess up so badly to know someone for so long and still never know his favorite food, to see each other every day but never once see Kalim like this, with so much joy, and Jamil stands there, sipping his coconut juice as Kalim sings and dances in place as they watch a concert performance together, wondering where he went so wrong, wondering when he forgot Kalim was a real person, wondering if he ever realized Kalim lived and breathed and had feelings.

It’s the wakeup call Jamil didn’t know he needed. He realizes for the first time how little Kalim gets to have some fun of his own whenever they play together, how he’s always the one dragging Kalim into messy situations, how Kalim may have been kinda happy when they’re together but clearly he’s never been truly happy in all of the time they’ve spent together, how Kalim is a real friend who cares and puts up with so much while Jamil has been nothing but a bully and an asshole.

As the sun sets and he and Kalim are heading back to the estate, Jamil thinks about this a lot. He feels extremely guilty over his shitty attitude and resolves to do better, to be proper friends with Kalim, to be nicer and kinder and to appreciate the people and things he has in his life. He’s going to fix things. He’s going to do it right from now on.

Unfortunately for them both, Jamil is too lost in thought to notice that someone else has noticed him.

The next sequence of events is a blur to Jamil. One moment he’s walking through a less populated street side by side with a friend he’s wronged, and the next, said friend is pushing Jamil out of the way as some rando swipes at him. They both land in a heap on the floor, but adrenaline gives Kalim the speed to recover, grab Jamil’s hand, and make a break for it before the person can make another attempt at grabbing them. Jamil’s too disoriented and in too close a range to prepare a good enough spell to get the person off their tail, so they’re both in big trouble as they run through shortcuts and alleyways to get home faster while their pursuer is hot on their heels. Eventually their luck runs out, and the person catches up to them.

Kalim is no bodyguard, but he still throws himself between Jamil and the attacker to protect him. It’s two little kids against one adult. The way the person looms over them is terrifying, they’re both shaking, Jamil is on the floor bc Kalim pushed him too hard when he tried to tell him to just leave him behind and run for it, and Kalim himself is screaming his poor lungs out, crying for help in hopes that he’ll catch the attention of the people milling about. He does, but not before he takes a severe blow to the head and goes down hard. With the help of both some alarmed bystanders and a blast of Jamil’s tearful, rage-fueled magic (“NO!! KALIM!!! KALIM!!!”), the pursuer gets taken out and the bystanders, who recognize who Jamil is, contact the authorities and his family. They stay with him while Jamil hugs Kalim’s unconscious body and cries his eyes out bc this wasn’t supposed to happen, he should have listened, Dad was right, he was stupid, he got them both hurt, Kalim isn’t smiling anymore, he won’t open his eyes, there’s so much blood everywhere, there’s so much blood coming from Kalim’s head—

In almost no time at all, Jamil’s dad, some bodyguards, and one of the family’s healers arrive at the scene to find Jamil inconsolable and Kalim injured. Kalim gets some emergency healing from the medic, but his wound is deemed too severe for the magic to be able to reverse all the damage at once and therefore he needs to be rushed back to the manor’s infirmary. Jamil’s dad gently pulls Jamil away from Kalim so he can be taken to properly heal, holding his crying son close as he watches the medic carry away a much too still, much too small body. When they head back to the estate, he picks up his son and carries him the whole way, and Jamil doesn’t even have the energy to interrupt his sobbing to complain. Jamil’s father tries to ignore the blood staining his son’s clothes, the red on his hands, and keeps going. He cleans him up when they get back (and tries, again, not to feel sick as he sees the color of the water) and that night, Jamil is too afraid to sleep in his own room. He reads bedtime story to his son for the first time in a long while, and when Jamil finally falls asleep, curled up with tears still clinging to his eyelashes, Mr. Viper stays awake a little longer to watch over him.

It takes days just for Kalim to open his eyes again, and there’s a new scar waiting for him when he does.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #jamil viper #twst jamil #kalim al asim #twst kalim #role reversed au #my stuff #responses

[96harmony96]

Chapter one.

“We should head to a bar and celebrate.”

I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement. Cary Taylor found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”

“Come on, camila.” Cary sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Cary was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.

“I’m not talking about a bender,” he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight.”

“I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.”

“Walk fast, work out faster.” Cary’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines all over the world one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.

“How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.”

“Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.”

“Uh…” Cooking was one of Cary’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.”

Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.”

Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let me out to the street with a flourish.

The moment I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and invited me to explore. I was not merely across the country from my former home in San Diego, but seemingly worlds away. Two major metropolises—one endlessly temperate and sensually lazy, the other teeming with life and frenetic energy. In my dreams, I’d imagining living in a walkup in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself on the Upper West Side instead. If not for Cary living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people made in a year.

The doorman tipped his hat to me. “Good evening, Miss Cabello. Will you need a cab this evening?”

“No thanks, Paul.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.”

He smiled. “It’s cooled down from this afternoon. Should be nice.”

“I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before it gets wicked hot.”

“Very good advice, Miss Cabello.”

Stepping out from under the modern glass entrance overhang that somehow meshed with the age of the building and its neighbors, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined street before I reached the bustle and flow of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the subway and had trouble hailing cabs. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience.

The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with food from vendor carts, the shouts of hawkers blended with music from street entertainers, the awe-inspiring range of

faces and styles and accents, the gorgeous architectural wonders…And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars was unlike anything I’d ever seen anywhere.

There was always an ambulance, patrol car, or fire engine trying to part the flood of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of ear-splitting sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated tiny one-way streets and the package delivery drivers who braved the bumper-to-bumper traffic while facing rigid deadlines.

Real New Yorkers cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favorite pair of shoes. They didn’t view the steam billowing from potholes and vents in the sidewalks with romantic delight and they didn’t blink an eye when the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared by below, while I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. New York was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed.

So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to Mark Garrity at Waters Field & Leaman, one of the preeminent advertising agencies in the US. My stepfather, mega-financier Richard Stanton, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection.

“You’re as stubborn as your father,” he’d said. “It’ll take him forever to pay off your student loans on a cop’s salary.”

That had been a major fight, with my dad unwilling to back down. “Hell if another man’s gonna pay for my daughter’s education,” Alejandro Cabello had said when Stanton made the offer. I respected that. I suspected Stanton did, too, although he would never admit it. I understood both men’s sides, because I’d fought to pay off the loans myself…and lost. It was a point of pride for my father.

My mother had refused to marry him, but he’d never wavered from his determination to be my dad in every way possible.

Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during a busy time on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the Crossfire Building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes.

I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up to the slender ribbon of sky. The Crossfire was seriously impressive, a sleek spire of gleaming sapphire that pierced the clouds. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the ornate copper-framed revolving doors was just as awe-inspiring, with golden-veined marble floors and walls, and brushed aluminum security desk and turnstiles.

I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in black business suits at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score.

I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a svelte, beautifully groomed brunette caught her purse on a turnstile and upended it, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards.

“Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick harried smile.

I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.”

I’d just squatted to reach a nickel lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords draped in tailored black slacks. I waited for a beat for the person to move out of my way and when they didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the person's face that I went down for the count.

Wow. Just…wow. She sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite femininity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned.

Then something shifted in the air between us.

As she stared back, she altered…as if a shield slid away from her eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism she exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power.

Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass.

My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the woman in front of me. Inky black hair shoulder length framed a breathtaking face. Her bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely Emerald green eyes made her savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, her features otherwise schooled into impassivity.

Her dress shirt and suit were both black, but her tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. Her eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. she smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was she.

she held out a hand to me, exposing onyx cufflinks and a very expensive-looking watch.

With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in hers. My pulse leaped when her grip tightened. Her touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. she didn’t move for a moment, a frown line marrying the space between arrogantly slashed brows.

“Are you all right?”

Her voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that she might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.

My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.”

she stood with economical grace, pulling me up with her. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. she was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but her eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent.

I felt drawn to her, as if a rope bound my waist and she was slowly, inexorably pulling it.

Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released her. she wasn’t just beautiful; she was…enthralling. she was the kind of woman that made a person want to rip her shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at her in her civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking.

she bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear.

I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while she was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it.

she glanced up at me and the pose—she's nearly kneeling before me—skewed my equilibrium again. she held my gaze as she rose. “Are you sure you’re alright? You should sit down for a minute.”

My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful woman I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.”

Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the woman again, finding her watching me even as the brunette gushed thank-yous. To her. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped.

I talked over her. “May I have my badge, please?”

she offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching her, her fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again.

“Thank you,” I muttered before skirting her and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of New York air redolent with a million different things, some good and some toxic.

There was a sleek black Bentley SUV in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless limo tinted windows. I was flushed and my brown eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before—in the bathroom mirror just before I went to bed with a man. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now.

Christ. Get a grip.

Five minutes with Miss. Dark and Dangerous, and I was filled with an edgy, restless energy. I could still feel the pull of her, the inexplicable urge to go back inside where she was. I could make the argument that I hadn’t finished what I’d come to the Crossfire to do, but I knew I’d kick myself for it later. How many times was I going to make an ass of myself in one day?

“Enough,” I scolded myself under my breath. “Moving on.”

Horns blared as one cab darted in front of another with only inches to spare and then slammed on the brakes as daring pedestrians stepped into the intersection seconds before the light changed. Shouting ensued, a barrage of expletives and hand gestures that didn’t carry real anger behind them. In seconds all the parties would forget the exchange, which was just one beat in the natural tempo of the city.

As I melded into the flow of foot traffic and set off toward the gym, a smile teased my mouth. Ah, New York, I thought, feeling settled again. You rock.

I’d planned on warming up on a treadmill, then capping off the hour with a few of the machines, but when I saw that a beginners’ kickboxing class was about to start, I followed the mass of waiting students into that instead. By the time it was over, I felt more like myself. My muscles quivered with the perfect amount of fatigue and I knew I’d sleep hard when I crashed later.

“You did really well.”

I wiped the sweat off my face with a towel and looked at the young man who spoke to me. Lanky and sleekly muscular, he had keen brown eyes and flawless café au lait skin. His lashes were enviably thick and long, while his head was shaved bald.

“Thank you.” My mouth twisted ruefully. “Pretty obvious it was my first time, huh?”

He grinned and held out his hand. “Parker Smith.”

“Camila Cabello.”

“You have a natural grace, camila. With a little training you could be a literal knockout. In a city like New York, knowing self-defense is imperative.” He gestured over to a corkboard hung on the wall. It was covered in thumbtacked business cards and fliers. Tearing off a flag from the bottom of a fluorescent sheet of paper, he held it out to me. “Ever heard of Krav Maga?”

“In a Jennifer Lopez movie.”

“I teach it, and I’d love to teach you. That’s my website and the number to the studio.”

I admired his approach. It was direct, like his gaze, and his smile was genuine. I’d wondered if he was angling toward a pickup, but he was cool enough about it that I couldn’t be sure.

Parker crossed his arms, which showed off cut biceps. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and long shorts. His Converse sneakers looked comfortably beat up and tribal tattoos peeked up from his collar. “My website has the hours. You should come by and watch, see if it’s for you.”

“I’ll definitely think about it.”

“Do that.” He extended his hand again, and his grip was solid and confident. “I hope to see you.”

The apartment smelled fabulous when I got back home and Adele was crooning soulfully through the surround sound speakers about chasing pavements. I looked across the open floor plan into the kitchen and saw Cary swaying to the music while stirring something on the range. There was an open bottle of wine on the counter and two goblets, one of which was half-filled with red wine.

“Hey,” I called out as I got closer. “Whatcha cooking? And do I have time for a shower first?”

He poured wine into the other goblet and slid it across the breakfast bar to me, his movements practiced and elegant. No one would know from looking at him that he’d spent his childhood bouncing between his drug-addicted mother and foster homes, followed by adolescence in juvenile detention facilities and state-run rehabs. “Pasta with meat sauce. And hold the shower, dinner’s ready. Have fun?”

“Once I got to the gym, yeah.” I pulled out one of the teakwood barstools and sat. I told him about the kickboxing class and Parker Smith. “Wanna go with me?”

“Krav Maga?” Cary shook his head. “That’s hardcore. I’d get all bruised up and that would cost me jobs. But I’ll go with you to check it out, just in case this guy’s a wack.”

I watched him dump the pasta into a waiting colander. “A wack, huh?”

My dad had taught me to read guys pretty well, which was how I’d known the god in the suit was trouble. Regular people offered token smiles when they helped someone, just to make a momentary connection that smoothed the way.

Then again, I hadn’t smiled at him either.

“Baby girl,” Cary said, pulling bowls out of the cupboard, “you’re a sexy, stunning woman. I question any man who doesn’t have the balls to ask you outright for a date.”

I wrinkled my nose at him.

He set a bowl in front of me. It contained tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a skimpy tomato sauce with lumps of ground beef and peas. “You’ve got something on your mind. What is it?”

Hmm…I caught the handle of the spoon sticking out of the bowl and decided not to comment on the food. “I think I ran into the hottest person on the planet today. Maybe the hottest woman in the history of the world.”

“Oh? I thought that was me. Do tell me more.” Cary stayed on the other side of the counter, preferring to stand and eat.

I watched him take a couple bites of his own concoction before I felt brave enough to try it myself. “Not much to tell, really. I ended up sprawled on my ass in the lobby of the Crossfire and she gave me a hand up.”

“Tall or short? Blond or dark? Built or lean? Eye color?”

I washed down my second bite with some wine. “Tall. Dark. Lean and built. green eyes. Filthy rich, judging by her clothes and accessories. And she was insanely sexy. You know how it is—some hot people don’t make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive people have massive sex appeal. This woman had it all.”

My belly fluttered as it had when Dark and Dangerous touched me. In my mind, I remembered her breathtaking face with crystal clarity. It should be illegal for a woman to be that mind-blowing. I was still recovering from the frying of my brain cells.

Cary set his elbow on the counter and leaned in, his long bangs covering one vibrant green eye. “So what happened after she helped you up?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I left.”

“What? You didn’t flirt with her?”

I took another bite. Really, the meal wasn’t bad. Or else I was just starving. “she wasn’t the kind of girl you flirt with, Cary.”

“There is no such thing as a girl you can’t flirt with. Even the happily married ones enjoy a little harmless flirtation now and then.”

“There was nothing harmless about this girl,” I said dryly.

“Ah, one of those.” Cary nodded sagely. “Bad boys and girls can be fun, if you don’t get too close.”

Of course he would know; men and women of all ages fell at his feet. Still, he somehow managed to pick the wrong partner every time. He’d dated stalkers, and cheaters, and lovers who threatened to kill themselves over him, and lovers with significant others they didn’t tell him about…Name it, he’d been through it.

“I can’t see this woman ever being fun,” I said. “she was way too intense. Still, I bet she'd be awesome in the sack with all that intensity.”

“Now you’re talking. Forget the real person. Just use ther face in your fantasies and make them perfect there.”

Preferring to get the girl out of my head altogether, I changed the subject. “You have any go-sees tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Cary launched into the details of his schedule, mentioning a jeans advertisement, self-tanner, underwear, and cologne.

I shoved everything else out of my mind and focused on him and his growing success. The demand for Cary Taylor was increasing by the day, and he was building a reputation with photographers and accounts for being both professional and prompt. I was thrilled for him and so proud. He’d come a long way and been through so much.

It wasn’t until after dinner that I noticed the two large gift boxes propped against the side of the sectional sofa.

“What are those?”

“Those,” Cary said, joining me in the living room, “are the ultimate.”

I knew immediately they were from Stanton and my mom. Money was something my mother needed to be happy and I was glad Stanton, husband #3, was not only able to fill that need for her but all her many others as well. I often wished that could be the end of it, but my mom had a difficult time accepting that I didn’t view money the same way she did. “What now?”

He threw his arm around my shoulders, easy enough for him to do because he was taller by five inches. “Don’t be ungrateful. He loves your mom. He loves spoiling your mom, and your mom loves spoiling you. As much as you don’t like it, he doesn’t do it for you. He does it for her.”

Sighing, I conceded his point. “What are they?”

“Glam threads for the advocacy center’s fundraiser dinner on Saturday. A bombshell dress for you and a Brioni tux for me, because buying gifts for me is what he does for you. You’re more tolerant if you have me around to listen to you bitch.”

“Damn straight. Thank God he knows that.”

“Of course he knows. Stanton wouldn’t be a bazillionaire if he didn’t know everything.” Cary caught my hand and tugged me over. “Come on. Take a look.”

I pushed through the revolving door of the Crossfire into the lobby ten minutes before nine the next morning. Wanting to make the best impression on my first day, I’d gone with a simple sheath dress paired with black pumps that I slid on in replacement of my walking shoes on the elevator ride up. My brown hair was twisted up in an artful chignon that resembled a figure eight, courtesy of Cary. I was hair-inept, but he could create styles that were glamorous masterpieces. I wore the small pearl studs my dad had given me as a graduation gift and the Rolex from Stanton and my mother.

I had begun to think I’d put too much care into my appearance, but as I stepped into the lobby I remembered being sprawled across the floor in my workout clothes and I was grateful I didn’t look anything like that graceless girl. The two security guards didn’t seem to put two and two together when I flashed them my ID card on the way to the turnstiles.

Twenty floors later, I was exiting into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman. Before me was a wall of bulletproof glass that framed the double-door entrance to the reception area. The receptionist at the crescent-shaped desk saw the badge I held up to the glass. She hit the button that unlocked the doors as I put my ID away.

“Hi, Megumi,” I greeted her when I stepped inside, admiring her cranberry-colored blouse. She was mixed race, a little bit Asian for sure, and very pretty. Her hair was dark and thick, and cut into a sleek bob that was shorter in the back and razor sharp in the front. Her sloe eyes were brown and warm, and her lips were full and naturally pink.

“camila, hi. Mark’s not in yet, but you know where you’re going, right?”

“Absolutely.” With a wave, I took the hallway to the left of the reception desk all the way to the end, where I made another left turn and ended up in a formerly open space now partitioned into cubicles. One was mine and I went straight to it.

I dropped my purse and the bag holding my walking flats into the bottom drawer of my utilitarian metal desk; then booted up my computer. I’d brought a couple of things to personalize my space and I pulled them out. One was a framed collage of three photos—me and Cary on Coronado beach, my mom and Stanton on his yacht in the French Riviera, and my dad on duty in his City of Oceanside, California, police cruiser. The other item was a colorful arrangement of glass flowers that Cary had given me just that morning as a “first day” gift. I tucked it beside the small grouping of photos, and sat back to take in the effect.

“Good morning, Camila.”

I pushed to my feet to face my boss. “Good morning, Mr. Garrity.”

“Call me Mark, please. Come on over to my office.”

I followed him across the strip of hallway, once again thinking that my new boss was very easy to look at with his gleaming dark skin, trim goatee, and laughing brown eyes. Mark had a square jaw and a charmingly crooked smile. He was trim and fit, and he carried himself with a confident poise that inspired trust and respect.

He gestured at one of the two seats in front of his glass and chrome desk, and waited until I sat to settle into his Aeron chair. Against the backdrop of sky and skyscrapers, Mark looked accomplished and powerful. He was, in fact, just a junior account manager and his office was a closet compared to the ones occupied by the directors and executives, but no one could fault the view.

He leaned back and smiled. “Did you get settled into your new apartment?”

I was surprised he remembered, but I appreciated it, too. I’d met him during my second interview and liked him right away.

“For the most part,” I answered. “Still a few stray boxes here and there.”

“You moved from San Diego, right? Nice city, but very different from New York. Do you miss the palm trees?”

“I miss the dry air. The humidity here is taking some getting used to.”

“Wait ’til summer hits.” He smiled. “So…it’s your first day and you’re my first assistant, so we’ll have to figure this out as we go. I’m not used to delegating, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quick.”

I was instantly at ease. “I’m eager to be delegated to.”

“Having you around is a big step up for me, Camila. I’d like you to be happy working here. Do you drink coffee?”

“Coffee is one of my major food groups.”

“Ah, an assistant after my own heart.” His smile widened. “I’m not going to ask you to fetch coffee for me, but I wouldn’t mind if you helped me figure out how to use the new one-cup coffee brewers they just put in the break rooms.”

I grinned. “No problem.”

“How sad is it that I don’t have anything else for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Why don’t I show you the accounts I’m working on and we’ll go from there?”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mark touched bases with two clients and had a long meeting with the creative team working on concept ideas for a trade school. It was a fascinating process seeing firsthand how the various departments picked up the baton from each other to carry a campaign from proposition to fruition. I might’ve stayed late just to get a better feel of the layout of the offices, but my phone rang at ten minutes to five.

“Mark Garrity’s office. Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Get your ass home so we can go out for the drink you rain-checked on yesterday.”

Cary’s mock sternness made me smile. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”

Shutting down my computer, I cleared out. When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick “on my way” note to Cary. A ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button. When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where I was going and green eyes met mine. My breath caught.

The sex god was the lone occupant.

#camren #lauren jauregay #lauren jauregui #fantasy #fanfic #camila coelho

[i-am-not-anon]

Under the eye of an institution

Part 8

Summary: Logan and Patton (both 16), the older students, are expected to look after two groups of freshmen in Watersouth boarding school for boys. Both of them despise the tradition of bullying that is subjected to the newcomers by older students. The two respectively get a student in their groups who is a little different from the ordinary crowd: Roman and Virgil (both 15).

Author’s note: I won't tell any excuses, just simply tell that this is the pace at which you get new updates now. I hope you still want to stick around!

Triggers: Excessive bullying, abuse, slurs, violence and violent punishments, panic attacks, i n s t i t u t i o n 

Masterpost 

...

Virgil eyed his new 'friends' with caution, as they approached him again the next day. Matthew had a grin of a winner plastered on his face, as he patted Virgil on the shoulder. The quieter boy shifted, letting Matthew's hand fall back to his side, but the group leader didn't seem to mind.

"My, my," he continued grinning. "Our little guy got in trouble yesterday for the great nickname, huh? How did you handle it?" His followers peeked at Virgil with curiosity. 

Virgil stared at the football field, seeing Roman getting shouted at again. "I-I-I got it s-s-orted out with my-my group le-lea-leader," he simply stated.

Matthew crossed his arms. "What punishment did you get?" 

Virgil knew he was supposed to tell a lie, say that Patton had made him do something or whatever. But he was afraid the boys could tell he was making it up. He couldn't figure out what to tell anyway, so he just focused on looking away and shrugging.

Matthew shifted his posture impatiently. "Whatever. But what a great prank you created, little guy. We can annoy the Ass with it forever." His helpers giggled obediently at that. 

Matthew seemed to realize that he couldn't get much out of Virgil this time, so he turned to walk away. Virgil's breath got stuck into his throat. He had constructed a plan in his head last night when he couldn't fall asleep, and it had to be acted on now. He coughed. "W-wait," he stuttered, making Matthew turn back to him. The anxious boy coughed again, trying to collect his thoughts. 

"Y-y-you nee-need to stop-stop. Mr-r Br-br-ass is bla-ming it all on me." This time Virgil looked Matthew straight into his eyes, and that made the bossy boy lose his composure for a second. 

"What? Why! It's perfect!" Matthew chimed in, before listening to the end of Virgil's stuttering. "You can't be serious. It's not that bad, all of us get beaten in this dumb building." He tried to stare Virgil down, but he seemed to have made up his mind for good. 

Matthew got impatient, worried about losing his pedestal over his followers. He threw his hands in the air. "Whatever. I knew he was like that," He talked about Virgil as if he wasn't hearing all of this. "We don't need a coward in our gang, do we? This whole Ass-thing is going to be forgotten about by now, as well as it's creator. Those kinds of babies deserve to stay alone." He walked away from Virgil, his gang following and glancing back at Virgil. When the group walked around the corner, the poor boy broke down. He slid to the ground from where he had been leaning to the wall, sitting there and breathing way too fast. He quieted his sobs with his sweater paws, and there was nobody to soothe him.

...

Meanwhile Roman was getting into all kinds of trouble again. He was 'too loud' and 'damn annoying' on the soccer field, one of the only places he truly felt happy at in the whole school. Once again, it was the tutor student Patrick Simons that was breathing down his neck. 

"Are you deaf, little fatty" the older boy shouted at Roman, who still couldn't help shouting at his team members out of excitement.

"No, I've got ADHD," Roman snapped back. 

The words made Patrick stop from running, and he broke to a mischievous grin. "What did you say, little brat?" 

Roman, oblivious to the situation, stood as well. "I've got ADHD. That's why everything is hard for me," he explained. 

Patrick chuckled. " Everybody, did you hear this rodent? We've got a retard amongst ourselves, he admitted it himself!" 

Roman frowned. "I didn't mean.." 

"That's exactly what you meant, little retard," Patrick snapped. "That's what it means. You just don't understand because you were born stupid, unlike us." 

Roman gritted his teeth. That was exactly what Logan had told him not to tell himself. Patrick was wrong. But he was a tutor, and had power over Roman. So he just glared at him. 

"What's wrong, retard? You should be glad we let you play with us normal guys sometimes. Let's continue." 

Roman tried to forget about everything Patrick had just said, but it kept coming back louder, echoing in his head any second he wasn't completely absorbed in the soccer game. On top of that the older boy had found some new favourite names to call Roman any time he got a chance to do so.

….

Patton wandered in the halls of the Watersouth boy school, greeting and having chit-chat with his students and to be honest, with almost anyone who he crossed. He felt a bit tired of having focused so much of his energy into keeping his boys safe in such a broken system, but chatting with people made him feel a bit better. 

"Let me know when you've finished the story, I would love to read it," he called to one creative student before continuing his pace. The starry-eyed tutor noticed Virgil sitting by the wall, heading to him next. 

"Hi quiet one, what's popping?" He crouched next to the boy.

Despite his melancholy, Virgil couldn't help but snort at Patton's choice of words. "Y-y-ou soun-sound like a dad wh-w-who is t-trying-g to be cool," he commented. 

"Isn't that what I kind of am, though?" Patton grinned. "Looking after you just like a father-figure would do." He giggled. "I'm your school father, Virgil! That sounds so funny." 

Virgil smiled. He really didn't want to bother this ray of sunshine with his problems, but,

"But how are you really doing, Virge?"

There it was. It seemed like Patton simply couldn't stop caring about him. 

"Hmm.." Virgil looked away. He didn't have time to actually reply before Patton continued. 

"Are you still worried about the situation with Mr. Brass? We actually came up with a few solutions with Logan, but obviously all of them had some negative outcomes as we-"

"It's not that," Virgil cut his tutor off. "I-I-I actu-ally said ab-ab-about it to Matt-matt-matthew an-and they left me alone."

Patton frowned at that. "Do you mean they stopped annoying you with it or-"

"Both," Virgil shrugged. "May-maybe it-it-it is bett-er like th-this." 

Patton's frown deepened. "Aw, kiddo, everyone deserves friends." He sat next to Virgil to hug the boy sideways. "But maybe they weren't the best of friends if they pressured to do things you didn't like, don't you think?"

Virgil quietly moved a bit further, and Patton took his arm from around him understandingly. "Sorry." 

"S'fine," Virgil muttered. "An-and I-I guess."

Patton looked at the poor boy with a hint of sadness in his eyes. The bell rang, and Patton stood up, patting Virgil's shoulder briefly. "We will get through this, kiddo. I promise."

Maybe we will, Virgil stayed sitting as Patton walked to the hall. But at what cost?

….

"How many times I have to remind you, Pears?" Mr. Wilson rasped, tapping the pointer to his open palm. "I need you to sit straight and focus to your math problems."

Roman moved back to the 'right' position, nodding and trying to focus. Wow, that picture of a math-loving girl on the page looked funny. He quickly scribbled a shameless little sketch on the page of the tiny book she was holding, and turned to show his masterpiece to the boy behind him. The other boy snorted, but quickly looked back at his own book and as Roman turned to face the right direction, Mr. Wilson was standing right before him. 

Roman flashed a quick smile to him, hiding the drawing under his hand. 

"Why are you such a pain in this class, Pears?" Mr. Wilson lectured. "Look at everybody else. They are doing what they're supposed to! And you?!" He tapped Roman's head. "You always cause some tomfoolery. You try to seem smarter than me, hm? To annoy the teachers as much as possible?"

Roman ducked his head down. "No, sir."

Mr. Wilson huffed, gesturing with his pointer dangerously close to the ashamed student. "Then what is all of this? Don't you want to succeed in life?" 

"I do, sir."

"Then why do you keep standing against it, young man? That is idiocy!"

Roman considered revealing the actual cause of his problems, but decided against it. It got such a backlash among the other tutors, why would Mr. Wilson consider it anything but a cause of shame?

"I don't know, sir." 

"Well you better think about it," Wilson demanded. "And go to your tutor after the class. I refuse to let the education of my other students suffer because you decide to throw your opportunity away."

...

#uei #under the eye of an institution #part 8 #8 #uei8 #roman #logan #patton #virgil #oc #slur #slurs #bullying #abuse #institutions #Institution #sanders sides #human au #highschool au #boarding school au #adhd #stuttering #violence

[we-are-fam-ily]

Witness Protection

A random idea I had at work the other day!

Characters: Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Procrasti(Nate)ion, Remy(Sleep), Emile Picani, Deceit Sanders, Thomas Sanders

Ships: Familial Logince, Familial Moxiety, Remile, Procrasticeit? (Is there a ship name for Nate and Deceit?)

Summary: Patton’s new co-worker has a mysterious past, but seems fairly normal for an actor. Soon a new family moves into town and Roman starts acting strange

Wordcount: 1,661

Trigger warning: Death mention, Sympathetic Deceit, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Human Trafficking

“I’m just saying, you oughtta stay away from that guy.”

“Nate, kiddo, he’s my co-worker.”

“Pat. I love you, man, but here on the force, we get told stuff.” Nate Harper paused and stared at something out the window of the small café. “I can’t really say much, but watch out for him.”

Patton Heart sighed and gave his cocoa a mutinous look. Nate was probably right, but that didn’t mean that he was going to listen.

“Breaking News!” Both men turned to the TV in the corner. “Robert Pride, CEO of Pride Industries, has been officially charged with human trafficking, drug possession, money laundering, electoral fraud, and child abuse. His second wife, Amelia Pride nee Greed, has been brought in for questioning on the same charges.”

Nate grimaced.

“Don’t listen to that crap, Patty.” The news blared on.

“An anonymous witness came forward early last month, and has now been relocated using a witness protection program. The heir to the Pride family, Robert’s oldest son, is assumed dead. His youngest son has been taken in by a longtime friend who has no ties to the Pride syndicate.”

“I feel sorry for those boys.”

Nate sighed. “You’ve gotta big heart, Patty.”

Patton gave him a short hug before they parted.

~~

“Friends, Countrymen! I have arrived!” Roman Prince lit up the room with his exuberant personality and wide gestures.

“Come to bury Caesar, and not praise him?” Patton’s brother Thomas looked up from his literature homework.

Roman laughed and ruffled the younger teen’s hair. “Indeed. Where is my squire, fair prince Thomas?”

Patton watched as his youngest brother poked his head from behind Thomas. “Heya, Princey.”

“Why is Thomas a prince while Virgil is only a squire, kiddo?” Patton wasn’t entirely sure why he spoke up from his place behind the counter.

Roman shrugged and looked at Virgil.

“Would you rather be our Dark and Stormy Knight?”

The eight-year-old shook his head. “I don’t like the spotlight.”

Roman gave Patton a look that said ‘that’s what he said’, and Patton shook his head.

“Alas, friends, I must make my way to the back, and begin my work for the day!”

Roman swept into the back of the bakery, grabbing a hairnet from the box behind Patton as he went. There was soon a clatter of dishes and the muted notes of a Disney song filtering through the door.

 ~~

It was a few weeks later when Remy Dormir blustered through the bakery door, white-knuckling his refillable Starbucks mug.

“Patton, babe, I’m in love.”

“Aw, kiddo, that’s great!”

“He’s a therapist. With a son. And his brother was looking at Nate like I’m about to lose my best friend.”

Patton grinned and Roman burst into the lobby from the back of the bakery.

“I hear someone is dealing with matters of the heart? Do tell, fair friend!”

Remy winced at Roman’s proclamation.

“It’s too early for your volume, girl.”

The baker looked affronted, wiping his floury hands on his crown-patterned apron and making offended noises.

“It’s never too early for projecting if one is an actor, Pumpkin Spice Bore.”

“Okay, kiddos, let’s be nice. What did you say your new friend’s name was, Rem?”

The coffee addict took on a starry-eyed look normally reserved for venti lattes.

“Emile. Emile Picani.”

There was a loud thwack as Roman ran face first into a wall.

“You O.K., kiddo?”

“Never better, Padre. I’m practically perfect in every way.”

 ~~

They came in on Roman’s day off. Two tall, relatively good looking men and a boy, around Virgil’s age. Virgil perked up from his seat in the corner.

“That’s my friend, Logan,’ he whispered to Patton. ‘He’s new.” Patton ruffled his brother’s hair.

“Well, go say hi, kiddo!”

Virgil shuffled past the counter so he would be visible to the other boy and waved shyly. The boy, who was wearing a necktie of all things, looked up to one of the men for approval before slowly making his way across the story.

“Salutations, Virgil.”

“Hi, L.” He glanced back at Patton. “Pat, c’n I get a cookie for Logan?”

Patton smiled and fished two cookies from the complementary cookie jar.

“Here you go, kiddos.” He handed one to his brother and the other to the new boy. “I’m Patton, my dad owns the bakery.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Patton. Are you Virgil’s brother?”

“Yup!”

The shorter of the two men approached the counter. “Hi! Remy said this was the best bakery in the area. I’m Emile, and this is my brother Dee.” He gestured to the other man, who was looking around and stroking the massive birthmark on his cheek self-consciously. “This is my adopted son, Logan.”

“It’s nice to meet you all! Thanks for dropping by! I’m Patton, this is my youngest brother Virgil.” Patton shook the proffered hand.

“This baked good is indistinguishable in taste from those my older sibling has made for me in the past.”

Virgil made a sound of distress, and Patton looked over to see tears building in Logan’s eyes.

“Oh no! Kiddo, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry, is the cookie that bad?”

The boy shook his head and crammed the rest of the cookie in his mouth. Emile knelt down next to him.

“Want to talk about it, Logan?”

Logan swallowed the cookie and wiped his face with his polo sleeve.

“I momentarily found myself noticing Ro’s absence. My apologies for my outburst.”

“Want another cookie, kiddo?”

Logan looked up to Patton.

“Yes please.”

 ~~

“I think you used your cookies to bake that boy’s heart, RoRo!”

Roman’s laughter from the back was halfhearted.

“Hey, Pattycake, can we talk about something else?”

Patton glanced through the door to see his coworker looking forlorn. “Sure, kiddo. Are you doing ok?”

“Just bitterly jittery and not very glittery today, Padre. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure, kiddo.”

He was so focused on Roman that he almost didn’t hear the bell chiming. He turned to find Virgil dragging Logan in with a determined look on his face.

“Stay here, L. I’ll be right back.”

Logan looked a bit confused as Virgil dashed behind Patton, grabbed a hairnet, and ran into the back. Patton shook his head fondly.

“He just went to beg fresh cookies out of Princey, kiddo. How was school today?”

“Acceptable. Virgil requested assistance with his math homework, bringing me here to work on it. I hope we are not an imposition?”

“No worries, kiddo. Virgil comes here to do homework all the time.” Patton smiled at Logan. “Our other brother Thomas comes in sometimes as well. He’s in high school.”

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me everything he could think to tell me about his family, so I am aware.” He then looked sheepish. “My apologies if that came off as less than polite. I am still unused to interacting with anyone but my brother.”

“No problem, kiddo! That’s a-ok with me!”

“Thank you.”

Virgil came skipping back out with two warm cookies wrapped carefully in a napkin.

“Contraband!” He handed one to Logan and stuffed the other in his mouth. “Mf! Ht!”

Logan cracked a grin. “Of course it is hot, Virgil.” He took a small bite of his, still smiling at Virgil.

“So, kiddo,’ Patton began conversationally. ‘What brings you and your dad to our little town?”

Logan’s face turned sour. “Emile is not my father. My father murdered my half-brother and was accosted for it. I hate to sound emotional, but I hope they let father rot in prison for his misdeeds.”

Virgil started glaring at Patton halfway through Logan’s speech, and tentatively wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder when he finished.

“Uh. Wow. Ok, kiddo. Thanks for being willing to share!”

 ~~

It all went down several days later. Thomas called Patton to pick him up from drama rehearsal, so Patton left Roman and Virgil to watch the bakery. Well, Roman to watch the bakery and Virgil to mope about Logan having to go somewhere after school.

Patton and Thomas pulled up to the bakery shortly after the Picani’s car rolled up, so they watched in shock as Logan got out of the car, noticed something inside the bakery, dropped his bag and dashed into the bakery. Patton was out the car in a flash, right behind Emile.

They were greeted with the sight of Roman tightly holding a sobbing Logan to his chest, tears running down his face.

“Roman?” Patton turned to see Emile and Dee standing in the doorway, looking at Roman like they’d seen a ghost.

“Hey, Doc. Hi, Jekyll and Lied.”

Patton closed the bakery and made hot cocoa.

~~

“You were the anonymous witness.”

“Yeah. Had to wait until I turned 18, so that I might be able to take Lo with me. Didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You didn’t think to call us?”

“Emmy, you know me. I don’t remember phone numbers.”

“He has a website.”

“Get away from me with your facts, Lies and Dolls.”

Logan hadn’t let go of his death grip on Roman’s apron, not even for a mug of cocoa. Virgil huddled close to Thomas, worried by the emotions running rampant in the small shop.

“I think we’re missing information, kiddo. What happened?”

Sheepishly, Roman looked at Patton.

“So, I wasn’t completely honest when I started working here. My name is Roman Pride, heir to Pride Industries. Uh. My father was bad business, so I went to the police and reported him, so they put me in witness protection. Logan is my half-brother.” He paused to look down at Logan, smiling a little at the boy. 

“I heard from Remy that Emile was in town, but I tried to stay away, so I had no idea that Virgil’s Logan was my little brother. I thought he would just get placed in Foster Care. I was going to look for him in a few months, when the fervor died down.”

“No wonder Nate said you were suspicious.”

#sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #deceit sanders #tw deceit #child abuse mention #drug mention #emile picani #ts procrastination #short fic #kinda dumb #but here we are #i don't like the end but whatever

[peachywise]

night owls

stanley uris x reader

– one-shot

– synopsis: Your father has kicked you out, and you got no where to go. Stanley Uris might have an idea, however. 

– notes: this is a request from my sunshine anon!! “a Stan fic where this girl he finds cute (the reader) is unofficially part of the losers club and he’s out at night for whatever reason and finds her on a like a park bench and gets worried or smth (you decide why ;) )” i might make a part 2 of this, like the morning after?? if that interest any of you?? i’m not sure. let me know! 

A new town, a new park bench, the same old argument.

You guessed that no matter how much your father wanted to run away from his own problems, he would still drag them with him wherever he went, like a bad virus or an extra unwanted limb. Derry was supposed to be his solution to a better life. A fresh start where you and him would get along, and he could run from all his debts and toxic relationships. And for a month, it had worked. As much as you still fought and argued and yelled, everything would brush over in about an hour, and your father would have forgotten anything had ever happened.

Unfortunately, it appeared the clock had run out on your free trial to the decent dad subscription, because here you were again, kicked out in the middle of a cold autumn night, sitting on a park bench trying to figure out what to do.

You knew in the morning you could come back and not have him say a single word, but if you even tried to sneak back in tonight, it wasn’t going to end well for either side. Back in your old town, you would often just knock on your friend’s window and crash at their place, but since you had only been here a month and had thought all these troubles had gone away, you didn’t exactly have an emergency plan in place.

Not that you should ever have to plan anything like this at all.

It’s not like you didn’t have friends here or anything, but you had only just started to integrate yourself into their group. They called themselves The Losers’ Club. You thought it was a weird title to label themselves, but as you go to know them, it started to make sense. They were all outcasts, very different in their personalities, but seemed to mesh in such a close knit way that you couldn’t help but desire to be let in, to have those same people there for you as they were there for each other. 

It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable enough to even sit at their lunch table. The only reason you could now was because of Stan. He had been the first person you had met when you moved here. Your assigned counsellor had forced suggested you join an after school club to get into the Derry high school spirit. Everything but the math, dungeon and dragons, and bird watching club were closed for members, so you got a choice of three. You chose bird watching, thinking that at least that way you wouldn’t have to be cooped up inside all the time, and on cold days, it would most likely be cancelled. 

Stan was the president of the club.

He was also the only member.

Actually, there was this one girl Delia that would show up once in a blue moon for five minutes, but Stan said he had no idea who she was and that she wasn’t on the official club roster. You learned not to question it after awhile.

Since then, every Wednesday and Friday after school, you would meet Stan in the second floor Bio classroom and talk about birds or go outside to parks and try to see what ones you could find and identify. At first, you were really bored, but you really liked Stan and didn’t have the heart to quit. Then, eventually his bright passion grew infectious, and you found yourself enjoying it. Really, you found him to be the infectious one, but you wouldn’t ever admit it if he asked.

It’s why you chose this park bench, after all. This was the park you and Stan went to most often, and just being here made you feel a little safer. You just wished you’d had time to grab your damn coat so you didn’t feel so cold as well. 

“Y/N?” A soft voice called from behind you, sounding a hell of a lot like the bird boy currently on your mind.

Wow, you really were in deep, huh?

“I really need to get my head out of the gutter,” you mumbled to yourself, as you tucked your hands between your legs in an attempt to stay warmer. You knew you couldn’t stay here all night. Maybe there was a 24-hour diner in town somewhere? 

“What?” the incredulous voice asked again, but this time close enough behind you that it startled you back into reality. Turning around, your cheeks heated up as soon as your gaze locked with the curly haired boy, Stanley Uris.

An awkward, “uh…” was all you could muster in reply.

Stanley gave you a confused look as he moved around to stand in front of you. “Why are you out so late? Especially without a coat?” he questioned, and all you could do was stare in shock at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? You needed a lie, and fast.

“Here, uhm, take my scarf,” he mumbled, as he unwrapped the fleece patterned-plaid from around his neck and slung it over your shoulders. You hoped it was dark enough that he couldn’t see your inevitably red face. “Thanks,” you replied quietly, as you wrapped it around a couple of times, trying not to breath in his scent that clung to the fabric too deeply.

You hoped that by not replying to his question, he’d forget he asked. “Why are you here?” you offered instead, uncrossing your legs and crossing them the other way anxiously. Stan’s face dropped for a second as he looked down at his feet, embarrassment crossing his features. “I live a block away from here, I’ll have you know. I heard an owl and thought I would walk around to see if it was still around.” A small smiled curved your lips as you asked, “is it?” Stan just sighed in return, moving to sit next to you on the cold metal bench. “No. I think I scared it away.” Nodding your head, you said a simple, “ah. He was a skittish bird.” 

Stan nodded as well, before both of you were cast into silence. 

“So are you really not going to tell me why you’re out here?” Stan softly spoke again, turning to give you a look that reflected… concern? Why was he worried about you? Looking back down to your lap, an inner debate raged on whether or not to tell him. In all honesty, you knew you couldn’t even give a convincing lie. “I just told you I snuck out of my house at eleven at night to try and find a bird. I’m sure whatever it is, it isn’t that bad,” he added. A snort escaped you before you could stop it. “You snuck out?” you laughed, as Stan rolled his eyes and gave you a knowing look that screamed ‘that’s not important, now fess up.’

Sighing, you slid down lower on the bench, averting your eyes to the starry sky. You didn’t want to look at him while you explained, more fearful of the pitying look that was no doubt going to follow your story. “I got kicked out, alright? My dad and I don’t get along too well. He was upset that I talked back to him about getting fired, so I got tossed out for the night. It’ll be fine to go back in the morning. He’ll forget it ever happened,” you muttered, as you felt your heart pound in your chest, an uncomfortable pressure building in the form of a lump in your throat. How come you never cried when it happened, but as soon as you talked about it, emotions started to well up? It was bullshit. 

Stan was silent for a moment, but you could feel his eyes on you. Soon enough, Stan stood up, and your heart dropped. Yep. This was it. He was going to leave, and never talk to you again. At least there was no pity. 

“Come on,” Stan said, holding out his hand towards you. “What?” you sputtered, staring wide eyed at his outstretched hand. 

A small blush rose to Stan’s cheeks, and you had to fight back against the urge to say how cute it was out loud. It was absolutely not the time for that. “You don’t have a place to go, right? So come on, we can go to my house,” he mumbled, as your heart sped up once more. You didn’t think you could deal with all these emotions bubbling up.

“Stan, it’s really fine,” you started to argue, but he easily cut you off by saying, “Y/N, you’re shivering. I won’t force you, but it’s safe and right over there,” he stated, adding an even softer, “please,” at the end after you didn't reply. No one had ever been this kind before.

Swallowing back your slight embarrassment, you took in a deep breath and clasped his hand. He easily hauled you up on your feet. Giving each other a tentative smile, Stan began leading you out of the park, but dropped your hand after a minute and giving you a sheepish look after realizing he had still been holding it. You thought you heard him mumble “stay cool, Stanley,” under his breath, but you couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the sound of the soft wind around you. 

By the time you had reached his house, Stan turned and gave you a serious look. “We’re going to need to sneak in through my window,” he said sternly, as if admitting a long held secret. You blinked. “Okay,” you stated, waiting for him to show you exactly which window you had to squirm yourself through. An odd look crossed his face, like he had expected a different reaction entirely. “Alright,” he continued, as he made his way to the side of the house. You shrugged it off. 

For a bit, Stan struggled to get a proper grip sliding the window up, trying to push against the glass and get traction that way. After around a minute, you couldn’t stand idly by anymore.

“Here, I got it,” you laughed, bumping your hip into his to scoot him out of the way. Wiggling your fingers under the small crack at the base, you got it up an inch, and from there, it was easy enough. Turning towards Stan, you questioned, “have you never tried to break back into your house before?” Stan shook his head. “I’ve never even snuck out before tonight.” As you began to quietly step through the window frame, you offered, “next time, keep the window open a small crack,” Stan couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on his face. “Duly noted,” he replied, following in after you. 

Quickly, Stan moved over to switch the lamp on beside his bed, and you awkwardly stood in the middle of his bedroom, unsure. As many times as this exact situation had happened in your old town, this was different. You didn’t have a stupid little crush on all your other friend’s you’d spent the night with. In all honestly, you didn’t know what to do. By the looks of it, neither did he. 

Clearing your throat, you awkwardly gripped your forearm as your eyes wandered around. “No bird posters?” you asked, and immediately wanted to slam your head against the wall. Jesus, was that the only thing you could think of to say? Stan chuckled. “Can I tell you something?” he questioned, moving over to sit on the edge of his bed. You nodded your head. “The bird watching club was something I made up so I could have some alone time away from The Losers’ Club. It gave me an excuse to go home quickly.” 

You didn’t expect that. Looking a little wide eyed, you asked, “what?” positively shocked. Stan offered an embarrassed smile your way. “Yeah. I showed up when they said there was a new member, and you seemed to really like it so I kept coming…” he trailed off. Bringing your hands up to your face, you felt utter embarrassment wash through you. “No!” you whisper yelled, conscious of the fact his parents were asleep somewhere in the house. “Wait, are you serious?” you giggled, unable to stop. Sitting down next to him, Stan laughed as well, giving a small confirming, “yep.” 

“I only went because I was told I had to join a club. I was going to quit but you seemed so passionate about it and, I don’t know, I like hanging out with you,” you admitted, dropping your hands to see his reaction. He busted into laughter and you quickly joined in. 

“Shh!” he sputtered out, still unable to stop the laughter as he clapped his hand over your mouth, and you his. Eventually, both of you calmed down enough. And then awkward silence filled the space once more. 

“I’ll just sleep on the floor, if that’s okay?” you said, fiddling with your hands on your lap. Stan let out a very quick, “no! No, uh, I’ll sleep on the floor, and you take my bed,” he commented as he stood up and took one of the pillows, tossing it to the ground. “I don’t mind, honestly,” you continued, before Stan shook his head once more, already grabbing a blanket and nestling onto the floor. Argument settled then.

Kicking off your shoes and taking of his scarf, you crawled into bed carefully, a little tense and all too aware of your surroundings once again. You just laid staring there at the ceiling for a few beats, before Stan asked, “can you turn of the lamp?” 

Turning over, you quickly switched it off, feeling a little more comfortable now that it was dark. After around five minutes, however, you were still no closer to falling asleep, and memories of your fight with your father were creeping back into your mind once more. You had almost forgotten all about it in the presence of Stan. “This isn’t the first time this has happened before, is it?” Stan’s unsure voice spoke from below, and you felt your body grow cold. “No,” you whispered back, your voice slightly breaking, “it’s not.”

Unable to contain everything you had pushed back for the last couple of hours, silent tears started to slip from the corner of your eyes, and you quickly lifted your hand to wipe them away before they could stain his pillow. In a second, Stan was up off the ground, turning back on the light and shuffling to sit next to you, peering down at you with a concerned look over his face. “Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, his hands hovering over you like he wanted to comfort you, to wipe your tears away, but was just unsure if it was okay to do. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want,” he continued. 

Sliding up, you rested your head against the headboard and painfully rubbed your eyes. “It’s okay,” you sighed, letting your hands fall to your lap. “It’s been like this since I was fifteen. It’s always just been me and my dad, but he gets really angry sometimes. The only thing he knows to do is kick me out,” you laughed humourlessly, unable to meet his eyes. “I had places to stay in my old town, but I thought it was going to be different here. This is the first time since we’ve moved, and I’m just—“ you started, as tears fell again. God, would they ever stop? “I’m just alone here,” you finished. Shock registered through your thick emotions as you were brought into a quick unexpected hug. That made you cry even more. 

Stan’s hand stroked your hair softly, as he gently stated, “you’re not alone.”

Bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck, he continued to murmur in your ear, “I’m here, I’m always here.” Leaning back out of the hug, Stan’s hand moved to cup the side of your face as he brushed the left over tears. A small reassuring smile warming his face. In a moment of bravery, you leaned forward to place a small kiss on his cheek, but instead, he moved his face slightly to the side, and you fleetingly kissed his lips instead. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to!” he started to fumble out, but you cut him off by leaning foreword to give him another chaste kiss. The butterfly’s in your stomach were a welcome feeling. “I’m glad I met you, Stan,” you quietly said as you pulled away, face still only inches from his. His thumb brushed against your cheek one last time, and the shy look that crossed his features made you smile in return. “I’m glad I thought I heard an owl tonight, Y/N.” he replied, and soon enough, both of you were back to laughing again, foreheads pressed together, shh’ing each other in between snickers.

– general tags: @multi-parker @stan-the-losers-club-man @babylovereddie @ubertrashmouth @this-cute-shit-xo @hummingstan @derrysdenbrough @socially-awkward-nerd @emmaamalie @catching-fire-in-the-wind @mikoalabear

#stanley uris #stan uris #wyatt oleff #stanley uris x reader #stan uris x reader #stanley x reader #stanley uris imagine #stan uris imagine #it #it 2017 #it imagine #it fanfic #it fanfiction #stanley uris fanfic #stanley uris fanfiction #wyatt oleff x reader #richie tozier #finn wolfhard #beverly marsh #sophia lillis #jack dylan grazer #eddie kaspbrak #jaeden lieberher #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #jeremy ray taylor #chosen jacobs #mike hanlon

[mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl]

BARED TO HIM- SEUNGRI SCENARIO PT.1

ALL RIGHTS ARE GOING TO SILVIA DAY FOR HER BOOK CROSSFIRE BARED TO YOU I AM ONLY EDITING!

Genre:Smut/Fluff/Angst

Rated:NC-17

PAIRING: Seungri x Reader

word count: 5,040

Part.1 Part.2

“We should head to a bar and celebrate.” I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement. Jung Hae found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”

“Come on,Y/N.” Hae sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and Brown-eyed, Hae was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.

“I’m not talking about a bender,” he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight.” “I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.” “Walk fast, work out faster.” Hae’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines all over the world one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout. “How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.” “Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.” “Uh…” Cooking was one of Hae’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.” Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.” Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let me out to the street with a flourish. The moment I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and invited me to explore. I was not merely across the country from my former home in California, but seemingly worlds away. Two major metropolises—one endlessly temperate and sensually lazy, the other teeming with life and frenetic energy. In my dreams, I’d imagining living in a walkup in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself on the Upper West Side instead. If not for Hae living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people made in a year. The doorman tipped his hat to me. “Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. Will you need a cab this evening?” “No thanks, Tom.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.” He smiled. “It’s cooled down from this afternoon. Should be nice.” “I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before it gets wicked hot.” “Very good advice, Miss Y/L/N.” Stepping out from under the modern glass entrance overhang that somehow meshed with the age of the building and its neighbors, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined street before I reached the bustle and flow of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the subway and had trouble hailing cabs. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience. The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with food from vendor carts, the shouts of hawkers blended with music from street entertainers, the awe-inspiring range of faces and styles and accents, the gorgeous architectural wonders…And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars was unlike anything I’d ever seen anywhere. There was always an ambulance, patrol car, or fire engine trying to part the flood of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of ear-splitting sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated tiny oneway streets and the package delivery drivers who braved the bumper-to-bumper traffic while facing rigid deadlines. Real New Yorkers cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favorite pair of shoes. They didn’t view the steam billowing from potholes and vents in the sidewalks with romantic delight and they didn’t blink an eye when the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared by below, while I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. New York was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed. So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to Mark Garrity at Waters Field & Leaman, one of the preeminent advertising agencies in the US. My stepfather, megafinancier Richard Johns, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection. “You’re as stubborn as your father,” he’d said. “It’ll take him forever to pay off your student loans on a cop’s salary.” That had been a major fight, with my dad unwilling to back down. “Hell if another man’s gonna pay for my daughter’s education,” Victor Y/L/N had said when Johns made the offer. I respected that. I suspected Johns did, too, although he would never admit it. I understood both men’s sides, because I’d fought to pay off the loans myself…and lost. It was a point of pride for my father. My mother had refused to marry him, but he’d never wavered from his determination to be my dad in every way possible. Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during a busy time on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the Seunghyun’s Building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes. I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up to the slender ribbon of sky. The Seunghyun’s Company was seriously impressive, a sleek spire of gleaming sapphire that pierced the clouds. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the ornate copper-framed revolving doors was just as awe-inspiring, with golden-veined marble floors and walls, and brushed aluminum security desk and turnstiles. I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in black business suits at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score. I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a svelte, beautifully groomed brunette caught her purse on a turnstile and upended it, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards. “Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick harried smile. I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.” I’d just squatted to reach a nickel lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords draped in tailored black slacks. I waited a beat for the man to move out of my way and when he didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the man’s face that I went down for the count. Wow. Just…wow. He sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. Then something shifted in the air between us. As he stared back, he altered…as if a shield slid away from his eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism he exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power. Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass. My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the man in front of me. Inky black hair framed a breathtaking face. His bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely blue eyes made him savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, his features otherwise schooled into impassivity. His dress shirt and suit were both black, but his tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. His eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. He smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was he. He held out a hand to me, exposing onyx cuff links and a very expensive-looking watch. With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in his. My pulse leaped when his grip tightened. His touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. He didn’t move for a moment, a frown line marring the space between arrogantly slashed brows. “Are you all right?” His voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that he might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough. My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.” He stood with economical grace, pulling me up with him. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. He was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but his eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent. I felt drawn to him, as if a rope bound my waist and he was slowly, inexorably pulling it. Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released him. He wasn’t just beautiful; he was…enthralling. He was the kind of guy that made a woman want to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at him in his civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking. He bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear. I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while he was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it. He glanced up at me and the pose—him nearly kneeling before me—skewed my equilibrium again. He held my gaze as he rose. “Are you sure you’re all right? You should sit down for a minute.” My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful man I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.” Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the man again, finding him watching me even as the brunette gushed thank-yous. To him. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped. I talked over her. “May I have my badge, please?” He offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching him, his fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again. “Thank you,” I muttered before skirting him and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of New York air redolent with a million different things, some good and some toxic. There was a sleek black Bentley SUV in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless limo tinted windows. I was flushed and my Y/E/C eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before—in the bathroom mirror just before I went to bed with a man. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now. Christ. Get a grip. Five minutes with Mr. Dark and Dangerous, and I was filled with an edgy, restless energy. I could still feel the pull of him, the inexplicable urge to go back inside where he was. I could make the argument that I hadn’t finished what I’d come to the Seunghyun’s Company to do, but I knew I’d kick myself for it later. How many times was I going to make an ass of myself in one day? “Enough,” I scolded myself under my breath. “Moving on.” Horns blared as one cab darted in front of another with only inches to spare and then slammed on the brakes as daring pedestrians stepped into the intersection seconds before the light changed. Shouting ensued, a barrage of expletives and hand gestures that didn’t carry real anger behind them. In seconds all the parties would forget the exchange, which was just one beat in the natural tempo of the city. As I melded into the flow of foot traffic and set off toward the gym, a smile teased my mouth. Ah, New York, I thought, feeling settled again. You rock. I’d planned on warming up on a treadmill, then capping off the hour with a few of the machines, but when I saw that a beginners’ kickboxing class was about to start, I followed the mass of waiting students into that instead. By the time it was over, I felt more like myself. My muscles quivered with the perfect amount of fatigue and I knew I’d sleep hard when I crashed later. “You did really well.” I wiped the sweat off my face with a towel and looked at the young man who spoke to me. Lanky and sleekly muscular, he had keen brown eyes and flawless café au lait skin. His lashes were enviably thick and long, while his head was shaved bald. “Thank you.” My mouth twisted ruefully. “Pretty obvious it was my first time, huh?” He grinned and held out his hand. “Parker Smith.” “Y/N Y/L/N.” “You have a natural grace, Y/N. With a little training you could be a literal knockout. In a city like New York, knowing self-defense is imperative.” He gestured over to a corkboard hung on the wall. It was covered in thumbtacked business cards and fliers. Tearing off a flag from the bottom of a fluorescent sheet of paper, he held it out to me. “Ever heard of Krav Maga?” “In a Jennifer Lopez movie.” “I teach it, and I’d love to teach you. That’s my website and the number to the studio.” I admired his approach. It was direct, like his gaze, and his smile was genuine. I’d wondered if he was angling toward a pickup, but he was cool enough about it that I couldn’t be sure. Parker crossed his arms, which showed off cut biceps. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and long shorts. His Converse sneakers looked comfortably beat up and tribal tattoos peeked up from his collar. “My website has the hours. You should come by and watch, see if it’s for you.” “I’ll definitely think about it.” “Do that.” He extended his hand again, and his grip was solid and confident. “I hope to see you.” The apartment smelled fabulous when I got back home and Adele was crooning soulfully through the surround sound speakers about chasing pavements. I looked across the open floor plan into the kitchen and saw Hae swaying to the music while stirring something on the range. There was an open bottle of wine on the counter and two goblets, one of which was half-filled with red wine. “Hey,” I called out as I got closer. “Whatcha cooking? And do I have time for a shower first?” He poured wine into the other goblet and slid it across the breakfast bar to me, his movements practiced and elegant. No one would know from looking at him that he’d spent his childhood bouncing between his drug-addicted mother and foster homes, followed by adolescence in juvenile detention facilities and state-run rehabs. “Pasta with meat sauce. And hold the shower, dinner’s ready. Have fun?” “Once I got to the gym, yeah.” I pulled out one of the teakwood barstools and sat. I told him about the kickboxing class and Parker Smith. “Wanna go with me?” “Krav Maga?” Hae shook his head. “That’s hardcore. I’d get all bruised up and that would cost me jobs. But I’ll go with you to check it out, just in case this guy’s a wack.” I watched him dump the pasta into a waiting colander. “A wack, huh?” My dad had taught me to read guys pretty well, which was how I’d known the god in the suit was trouble. Regular people offered token smiles when they helped someone, just to make a momentary connection that smoothed the way. Then again, I hadn’t smiled at him either. “Baby girl,” Hae said, pulling bowls out of the cupboard, “you’re a sexy, stunning woman. I question any man who doesn’t have the balls to ask you outright for a date.” I wrinkled my nose at him. He set a bowl in front of me. It contained tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a skimpy tomato sauce with lumps of ground beef and peas. “You’ve got something on your mind. What is it?” Hmm…I caught the handle of the spoon sticking out of the bowl and decided not to comment on the food. “I think I ran into the hottest man on the planet today. Maybe the hottest man in the history of the world.” “Oh? I thought that was me. Do tell me more.” Hae stayed on the other side of the counter, preferring to stand and eat. I watched him take a couple bites of his own concoction before I felt brave enough to try it myself. “Not much to tell, really. I ended up sprawled on my ass in the lobby of the Seunghyun’s Company and he gave me a hand up.” “Tall or short? Blond or dark? Built or lean? Eye color?” I washed down my second bite with some wine. “Tall. Dark. Lean and built. Brown eyes. Filthy rich, judging by his clothes and accessories. And he was insanely sexy. You know how it is—some hot guys don’t make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive guys have massive sex appeal. This guy had it all.” My belly fluttered as it had when Dark and Dangerous touched me. In my mind, I remembered his breathtaking face with crystal clarity. It should be illegal for a man to be that mind-blowing. I was still recovering from the frying of my brain cells. Hae set his elbow on the counter and leaned in, his long bangs covering one vibrant green eye. “So what happened after he helped you up?” I shrugged. “Nothing.” “Nothing?” “I left.” “What? You didn’t flirt with him?” I took another bite. Really, the meal wasn’t bad. Or else I was just starving. “He wasn’t the kind of guy you flirt with, Hae.” “There is no such thing as a guy you can’t flirt with. Even the happily married ones enjoy a little harmless flirtation now and then.” “There was nothing harmless about this guy,” I said dryly. “Ah, one of those.” Hae nodded sagely. “Bad boys can be fun, if you don’t get too close.” Of course he would know; men and women of all ages fell at his feet. Still, he somehow managed to pick the wrong partner every time. He’d dated stalkers, and cheaters, and lovers who threatened to kill themselves over him, and lovers with significant others they didn’t tell him about…Name it, he’d been through it. “I can’t see this guy ever being fun,” I said. “He was way too intense. Still, I bet he’d be awesome in the sack with all that intensity.” “Now you’re talking. Forget the real guy. Just use his face in your fantasies and make him perfect there.” Preferring to get the guy out of my head altogether, I changed the subject. “You have any go-sees tomorrow?” “Of course.” Hae launched into the details of his schedule, mentioning a jeans advertisement, selftanner, underwear, and cologne. I shoved everything else out of my mind and focused on him and his growing success. The demand for Jung Hae was increasing by the day, and he was building a reputation with photographers and accounts for being both professional and prompt. I was thrilled for him and so proud. He’d come a long way and been through so much. It wasn’t until after dinner that I noticed the two large gift boxes propped against the side of the sectional sofa. “What are those?” “Those,” Hae said, joining me in the living room, “are the ultimate.” I knew immediately they were from Johns and my mom. Money was something my mother needed to be happy and I was glad Johns, husband #3, was not only able to fill that need for her but all her many others as well. I often wished that could be the end of it, but my mom had a difficult time accepting that I didn’t view money the same way she did. “What now?” He threw his arm around my shoulders, easy enough for him to do because he was taller by five inches. “Don’t be ungrateful. He loves your mom. He loves spoiling your mom, and your mom loves spoiling you. As much as you don’t like it, he doesn’t do it for you. He does it for her.” Sighing, I conceded his point. “What are they?” “Glam threads for the advocacy center’s fundraiser dinner on Saturday. A bombshell dress for you and a Brioni tux for me, because buying gifts for me is what he does for you. You’re more tolerant if you have me around to listen to you bitch.” “Damn straight. Thank God he knows that.” “Of course he knows. Johns wouldn’t be a bazillionaire if he didn’t know everything.” Hae caught my hand and tugged me over. “Come on. Take a look.”

~ I pushed through the revolving door of the Seunghyun’s Company into the lobby ten minutes before nine the next morning. Wanting to make the best impression on my first day, I’d gone with a simple sheath dress paired with black pumps that I slid on in replacement of my walking shoes on the elevator ride up. My blond hair was twisted up in an artful chignon that resembled a figure eight, courtesy of Hae. I was hair-inept, but he could create styles that were glamorous masterpieces. I wore the small pearl studs my dad had given me as a graduation gift and the Rolex from Johns and my mother. I had begun to think I’d put too much care into my appearance, but as I stepped into the lobby I remembered being sprawled across the floor in my workout clothes and I was grateful I didn’t look anything like that graceless girl. The two security guards didn’t seem to put two and two together when I flashed them my ID card on the way to the turnstiles. Twenty floors later, I was exiting into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman. Before me was a wall of bulletproof glass that framed the double-door entrance to the reception area. The receptionist at the crescentshaped desk saw the badge I held up to the glass. She hit the button that unlocked the doors as I put my ID away. “Hi, Megumi,” I greeted her when I stepped inside, admiring her cranberry-colored blouse. She was mixed race, a little bit Asian for sure, and very pretty. Her hair was dark and thick, and cut into a sleek bob that was shorter in the back and razor sharp in the front. Her sloe eyes were brown and warm, and her lips were full and naturally pink. “Eva, hi. Mark’s not in yet, but you know where you’re going, right?” “Absolutely.” With a wave, I took the hallway to the left of the reception desk all the way to the end, where I made another left turn and ended up in a formerly open space now partitioned into cubicles. One was mine and I went straight to it. I dropped my purse and the bag holding my walking flats into the bottom drawer of my utilitarian metal desk; then booted up my computer. I’d brought a couple of things to personalize my space and I pulled them out. One was a framed collage of three photos— me and HAE on Coronado beach, my mom and Johns on his yacht in the French Riviera, and my dad on duty in his City of Oceanside, California, police cruiser. The other item was a colorful arrangement of glass flowers that Cary had given me just that morning as a “first day” gift. I tucked it beside the small grouping of photos, and sat back to take in the effect. “Good morning, Y/N.” I pushed to my feet to face my boss. “Good morning, Mr. Kim.” “Call me Mark, please. Come on over to my office.” I followed him across the strip of hallway, once again thinking that my new boss was very easy to look at with his gleaming dark skin, trim goatee, and laughing brown eyes. Mark had a square jaw and a charmingly crooked smile. He was trim and fit, and he carried himself with a confident poise that inspired trust and respect. He gestured at one of the two seats in front of his glass and chrome desk, and waited until I sat to settle into his Aeron chair. Against the backdrop of sky and skyscrapers, Mark looked accomplished and powerful. He was, in fact, just a junior account manager and his office was a closet compared to the ones occupied by the directors and executives, but no one could fault the view. He leaned back and smiled. “Did you get settled into your new apartment?” I was surprised he remembered, but I appreciated it, too. I’d met him during my second interview and liked him right away. “For the most part,” I answered. “Still a few stray boxes here and there.” “You moved from California, right? Nice , but very different from New York. Do you miss the palm trees?” “I miss the dry air. The humidity here is taking some getting used to.” “Wait ’til summer hits.” He smiled. “So…it’s your first day and you’re my first assistant, so we’ll have to figure this out as we go. I’m not used to delegating, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quick.” I was instantly at ease. “I’m eager to be delegated to.” “Having you around is a big step up for me, Y/N. I’d like you to be happy working here. Do you drink coffee?” “Coffee is one of my major food groups.” “Ah, an assistant after my own heart.” His smile widened. “I’m not going to ask you to fetch coffee for me, but I wouldn’t mind if you helped me figure out how to use the new one-cup coffee brewers they just put in the break rooms.” I grinned. “No problem.” “How sad is it that I don’t have anything else for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Why don’t I show you the accounts I’m working on and we’ll go from there?” The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mark touched bases with two clients and had a long meeting with the creative team working on concept ideas for a trade school. It was a fascinating process seeing firsthand how the various departments picked up the baton from each other to carry a campaign from proposition to fruition. I might’ve stayed late just to get a better feel of the layout of the offices, but my phone rang at ten minutes to five. “Mark Kim’s office. Y/N Y/L/N speaking.” “Get your ass home so we can go out for the drink you rain-checked on yesterday.” Hae’s mock sternness made me smile. “All right, all right. I’m coming.” Shutting down my computer, I cleared out. When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick “on my way” note to Hae. A ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button. When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where I was going and blue eyes met mine. My breath caught. The beautiful asian sex god was the lone occupant.

a/n Men i know there wasnt a lot of lee seunghyun aka seungri in this chapter but in next one he is going to be there so i will try to upload once daily 50 shades and Bared to him so yeah i hope you enjoyed

#seungri #lee seunghyun #choi seunghyun #Kang Daesung #seunghyun #bigbang seungri #G Dragon #g dragon bigbang #big bang g dragon #gdragon #seungri smut #seungri scenarios #taeyang bigbang #bigbang taeyang #t.o.p bigbang #bigbang fanfiction #bigbang smut #bigbang #bigbang fluff #bigbang angst #smut #fluff #kpop smut #kpop fluff #Jiyong Kwon #Kwon Jiyong #kpop scenarios #seungri scenario #kpop seungri

[mymistakewriting]

Fandom: Marvel Word Count: 1198 Fluff Bingo Square: Kiss on the Forehead Warnings: this didn’t really turn out fluffy at the end so... canon mentions of a miscarriage.  Pairings/Characters: Bobbi Morse - Mockingbird / Clint Barton - Hawkeye. Phil Coulson, mentioned. Unborn child, mentioned. 

Written for @fluffbingo but definitely not that fluffy. Oops, I swear the rest of my card’s gonna be pure fluff.

The day the news came, Clint had honestly been expecting a lot worse.

An “I’m leaving, we’re done” instead of a “we’re going to have a kid”, for example.

And really, what the ever-loving futz kind of news was that? How was he supposed to react to that, coming home to news that he was going to be a dad.

Oh.

Panic, right, that was a reaction.

A very, very valid reaction that he hoped Bobbi didn’t take to heart because really that was great news but he was so not meant to be a father.

Seriously, it wasn’t like he had anything to base that off of - his own dad had been the exact opposite of what a kid deserved and - oh. Right.

He could see Bobbi shifting uncertainly at the length his silence had lasted, so he moved forward to plant a kiss to her forehead, fingers on his left hand immediately going to tangle in her hair as he wrapped around her in a hug.

God, they were having a kid.

A shaky laugh escaped him, followed by what sounded to his own ears like a choked off sob.

“Clint, what…”

Clint pulled back, catching Bobbi’s eyes, his wide smile counterbalancing the noise. “I love you,”

And wow, those words felt right. Why’d he wait so long to say that?

Neither of them really slept that night, Clint too wide awake and full to the brim of emotion to try and Bobbi too amused by his babbling and affection to feel really notice until both of their alarms went off not long after they’d both managed to doze off.

She lifted her head to stare at the offending noise before glancing over her shoulder at Clint - still sound asleep despite the noise, arm thrown protectively around her middle and fingers just brushing her stomach.

Okay, that was kind of cute. And an improvement from his usual tendencies.

From the time the news came, Clint was on board 100-percent. And he took any spare time he had around Bobbi to talk about it.

Plans to baby-proof. Stuff they needed to start looking at soon. Names.

Bobbi started to tune it out after week one, but it did still bring a smile forward when he started in after a particularly rough day, starry eyed and content in a way that he had never been before. Hopeful.

On nights where it got to be too much, all it took to silence him was a stolen kiss, a fondly exasperated look.

The first doctor’s appointment after Clint found out, he’d argued on the phone for two hours to get off from SHIELD just to come with her.

She’d insisted he didn’t have to be there, but he was stubborn on the best days. This was definitely not one of his better days if the icy “you’ll give me today off or you’ll find an arrow somewhere you really won’t like” was any indication.

He’d stared at everything in wary concern, like any of it was going to be something harmful, only calming down when Bobbi grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently just before the doctor came in.

He answered it with a kiss to her forehead, then one to her stomach, followed by a soft grin the likes of which she’d only seen the first time he woke up to her right next to him.

Even better was the look on his face when he saw the ultrasound. She almost wished she had a picture of it - wide-eyed wonder and something that she could only describe as pure love took over his entire expression even though she knew better than assume he knew how to actually understand it.

His grip on her hand was bordering on painful, but she didn’t say anything. Just squeezed his hand back and returned to her appointment without so much as missing a beat.

Two months into the pregnancy, the wonder settled out into actual nervousness.

Clint spent a lot of nights awake watching Bobbi sleep worriedly, or staring at the ceiling with his traitorous thoughts telling him every possible way this could end badly.

It wasn’t like the two of them had been on the best footing when Bobbi got pregnant - it was hard to tell sometimes, but Clint knew.

And what if his want to be a good man didn’t outweigh the bad blood he had running through his veins?

It was terrifying, but he never mentioned it to her.

He wasn’t going to screw this up. He refused to.

He was at work when he got the call, a post-op debrief with Coulson that he’d ducked out on with the promise he’d be right back.

He never made it back to the meeting, falling apart right there in the hall in front of the meeting room door.

“We lost the baby, Clint. I’m so sorry.”

And god, if Bobbi had sounded less together, Clint probably would have thrown his phone at the nearest wall. But she had and that just wasn’t fair.

He stuck his head into the meeting room once he was sure he was done with his immediate meltdown, locking eyes with Coulson and ignoring the worried look he got. “I gotta go, I’ll email you everything,”

No argument came, and god if it wasn’t such a shitty situation, it’d be something to marvel at.

At the hospital - futz, he hated hospitals, they took everything good - he immediately kissed her forehead, arms wrapping around her as he climbed onto the bed with her and let her break the same way he’d done.

Clint didn’t ask what had happened. Even if they could somehow know, he didn’t want to know.

And suddenly, the rush he’d felt faded away and he pressed another soft kiss to the top of Bobbi’s head.

This was better, anyway. They weren’t ready to be parents.

But god, it hurt. Why did it have to hurt?

He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

For all that it hurt him, it had to hurt her worse. She’d been way more attached to the kid - it had been actually growing in her, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how awful she felt.

And so, he stayed there, glaring daggers at anyone who came near them as she fell asleep on his chest, cried out and exhausted.

Would they be okay after this? God he hoped so, he didn’t want her to deal with this alone.

He didn’t want to deal with this alone either, but she didn’t deserve to.

He marked the day the kid would have been born on his phone’s calendar anyway.

And if she saw him, she didn’t say anything about it, for all that it almost sent her crying again.

They would’ve been great parents, he thought that first night at home. The universe just had to take that away, but they would have done so futzing good.

Too late now.

Clint, for the first night since he found out, slept with his back to Bobbi instead of wrapped around her. He didn’t want her to wake up to him falling apart silently beside her when she needed her rest.

She deserved that much.

#bingo fill #marvel #clint barton #bobbi morse #tw: miscarriage #canon mentions of a miscarriage #not rp #writing #so this was written for fluffbingo but it's not that fluffy down at the end I'm sorry #it's also the first thing that's not been dialogue focused that I've written #ever #as well as being the first thing I've ever actually finished writing for Marvel

[domina-alba]

Hey Everyone, These are the chapters that were initially posted to Ao3 and FFN so if you’ve already read Domina Alba feel free to skip! If you haven’t read Domina Alba you can find information about the fic Here.

IX

Domina’s favorite planet actually wasn’t Earth, though being there had been one of her favorite experiences.

No, her favorite planet was 19-H25. A roughly earth sized planet that she had spent most of her childhood either on or orbiting. She smiled as she looked around the reddish landscape. There were pockets of grey tinged rock where the kindergartens and shipyards had been planted. To her west there was a rocky outcropping that she knew overlooked the whole of the base. Domina began to climb. The rocks were stacked higher than she remembered and she was winded by the time she got to the top only to see nothing in the valley below.

She looked around again and realized she wasn’t on the planet she was on her mother’s personal ship, not the flagship, the fleet ship that the Styx normally docked in. She was in the hallways outside the room where the quartz’s, and her on occasion, trained. But normally the ship was buzzing with activity, now though Domina was alone. Or so she thought.

“Hello?” came a familiar voice from down the hallway towards where the flight deck was. Domina frowned and headed in that direction, trying to figure out who was on the ship with her. She emerged not in the flight deck but in her own quarters that were actually on the opposite end of the ship. Standing just inside the open door, which was almost never left open, was Steven.

“Steven?” Domina asked she looked around the room, something was off. “Wait, I’m dreaming.” She said. Steven looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah sorry I was kind of trying to see if I could talk to you, but I didn’t know when everyone on Homeworld usually slept so I just kind of took a nap in the afternoon.”

“Nobody really sleeps on Homeworld but me.” Domina said then frowned. “Wait are you saying this is my dream and your real and just.. walking through it?”

“Yeah kind of, I still haven’t really figured this power out. “ He said.

“I can understand that, Could your mom do this?” Domina asked.

“I don’t know. The gems don’t make it seem like she could.”

“It’s possible it’s unique to you, My mother couldn’t summon a weapon but I can, I think being a hybrid messes with some gem things too.”

“Huh, Well where are we?” Steven asked, he was looking around the room very carefully.

“We’re on board the lead dropship in the colonization fleet, this is me and Pearls room.” Domina said. “But I was on a planet before.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I wonder, now that I know I’m in a dream.” Domina mused, she focused on 19-H25 and slowly the ship began to fade away and they were left on the rocky landscape of the planet. Steven looked around starry eyed.

“Wow...” he said. “What is this place?”

“19-H25” domina said. “I spent most of my childhood here, we produced a lot of Beryls here, and at least enough parts for one full handship.” Domina said thinking back. Stevens face turned a bit serious.

“Oh. with.. Kindergartens?” he asked.

“Yes, here, come on.” Domina began heading towards the planet's Prime Kindergarten. It was empty, the ground had turned grey here, holes were organized neatly along both sides of the canyon, there were no injectors but she could see the holes where they had been placed.

“We got one or two Bixbites here, other than that it was mostly Emeralds and Morganites that came out of here. I don’t think anyone that emerged here is still with the fleet though, most are actually part of Yellow or Blue’s court back on Homeworld.” She said turning with a smile to look at Steven who was looking more and more uncomfortable. Domina’s smile faded and she pulled them back to where the rocky outcropping was, Sitting on the ground overlooking the valley.

“You know I know that's what you have to do to make more gems but it just doesn’t feel right draining planets.” Steven said fidgeting with his hands nervously.

“Well the planets aren’t like earth, I mean, yeah occasionally we get ones that have life on them but my Mother and father really started trying a way to treat and rotate the planets so that it’s more sustainable.”Domina said waving his concerns off. Steven sighed and rubbed his head.

“I have sooo many questions. I mean this is a lot.” he said.

“I know what you mean completely.” She said. They sat in silence for a moment.

“What if we took turn asking and answering each other's questions?” Steven asked. Domina chuckled.

“Alright. How did your parent’s meet?” She asked.

“Oh thats an easy one, my dad was giving a Concert in beach city and mom was the only one that showed up. He said it was like love at first sight.” Steven said with a smile. “What about yours?” he asked. Domina hesitated.

“Uh after the war my Mother was trying to understand Pink Diamonds fascination with humans so.. She took my Father from the zoo and they fell in love, it took a while though, they were both very opinionated.” Domina said. “What’s the deal with the ‘Crystal Gems’?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re kind of an odd collection of gems. I mean, did they raise you?”

“I mean kind of. I lived with my dad until I was old enough to start learning about gem stuff. The gems are really great though. Amethyst is fun and Pearl is really cool and really smart and Garnet is awesome.”

“Is the Garnet fused all the time?” Domina asked.

“It’s my turn to ask a question.” Steven said with a grin. Domina sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine ask it.”

“Um.... can you shapeshift to be as big as the Diamonds?”

“I can it’s just really tiring, it’s a lot easier to just fly at their level. Now answer my question.”

Domina said.

“Yeah Garnet’s fused all the time” Steven said as if it was no big deal.

“But why?”

“Because Ruby and Sapphire love each other, They belong together. I mean even their gems make Garnet symmetrical,” Steven said.

“Hm... like they’ve found their other half.” Domina mused, Steven looked confused so she elaborated. “My father used to tell a story that long ago humans all had four arms and two heads, but they were too powerful so the big god, Zeus split them all in half and so now all humans were constantly looking for their perfect other half.”

“Wow...” Steven said. He stared out into the distance. “What was your dad like?” Steven asked. Domina had been expecting this but still twitched slightly when he asked.

“He was a Quartermaster in the Roman legion back before he was captured for Pink Diamonds zoo. He taught me Math and Latin and Greek and told me stories about how leaders should be.” Domina said. She could see a singular cloud rolling through the sky. “He was a good man. Very very intelligent, always was thinking of ways to improve how we did things.When he died..” Domina felt the words falling out before she could reign them in. “I aged so fast. Pearl thought I was going to die too, and.. I might have if she hadn’t been there to pull me back.” all of the sudden she was being hugged.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” he said. Domina chuckled and wiped her face.

“No it’s alright. My turn correct?”

They talked for hours. About his friend Connie who was mad at him for what had happened on homeworld, about her friends, the Quartzes and Nephrites that had taught her to fight and to fly ships. She asked him about the trial and he told her all about His friend lars who he had brought back from the dead and was now running around with a group of Off Color gems hidden somewhere on homeworld. Finally Domina felt everything start to go hazy.

“Oh I must be waking up,” She said.

“That’s ok.” Steven said. “It was nice to talk to you again Domina!”

“You too Steven, Stay safe.” Domina said before she felt her mind melt back into reality.

It was dark in the room where she had slept and she could feel that she had curled into Pearl in her sleep, which wasn’t the first or last time that had happened. Domina was about to apologize when her eyes adjusted and she realized that the gem was also asleep.

Domina frowned as her eyes adjust and she saw images appearing on the ceiling cast from the light of Pearls gem. There she watched an image of Pearl dancing, she was there to, maybe five or six years old, trying to copy the gem’s graceful motions. Domina smiled sleepily, remembering how Pearl used to get all flustered and redirect her to do something different. The image on screen showed something different though. Pearl knelt down and gently rearranged the younger Domina’s arms and legs so that they better matched her own. Then they danced together, to music that she couldn’t hear but in a way could almost feel from the actions that were happening on screen.

Domina’s smile faded and she tore her attention from the image, noticing a flashing light coming from her visor. Domina put it on and saw the notification that her file had finished downloading. She focused, wiping the sleep from her eyes determinedly.

She had a lot of reading to do.

#Steven Universe #Domina Alba Chapters #White Diamond #Pink Pearl #Fanfiction #Vulgaris Adamas