#i consider anything over 3 hours as a road trip. I live in the US and 2 hours and under is just “going somewhere”

[abovethemists]

The Worst That Could Happen - Chapter 5

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Summary: Nicholas Rush has been told to lighten up or face repercussions in his professional career. Lacey French is in desperate need of a wedding date. A blind date provides them both with an opportunity. From the prompt “Rushacey blind date”. 

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

In the end, Rush took a half-day on Thursday, heading north on the I-95 around two in the afternoon. It was just under a four hour drive to Storybrooke, most of the way straight highway. He only had to look at directions on his phone once he exited, taking a twisting forest path through dense green trees. After twenty minutes he was worried he was lost, certain there was no town up ahead, only more greenery. But, before he could fret too much, he saw a sign to the side of the road. “Welcome to Storybrooke”.  

The forest finally gave way to small wood framed houses, increasing in frequency as he approached the center of town. It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to set, casting white clapboard and red brick in shades of gold. The houses soon started to be joined by businesses, a fishing supply store here and a convenience store there. Soon he had turned on to Main Street, a quaint little downtown that looked plucked from another era entirely. Main Street seemed to lead down to a wide bay dotted by boats in the harbor, their colorful flags fluttering in the evening breeze.

It was a far cry from Boston, even further from Berkley, Glasgow, anywhere he’d ever lived. It was like something from a story where a plucky female detective investigated murders that rocked the small, closed community.

Rush shook his head. What was supposed to be so great about small towns anyway? No wonder Lacey hadn’t expanded her business. She needed to be somewhere with clients if she wanted to design clothing.

Lacey had given him an address for where to meet her and he’d assumed it was her home. That soon proved incorrect as he turned off Main Street to find 910 Maple.

He stopped the car, parking on the curb and climbing out to look around. Rather than the house or apartment building he’d been expecting, he was faced with a two-story shingle style cottage, its gray paint starting to fleck away in places. Hanging above the small porch was a wooden sign bearing the name Granny’s Bed and Breakfast. He’d noticed a Granny’s Diner on Main Street and the two businesses seemed to back into each other, connected by a late addition to the original buildings.

Rush sighed, walking around to the trunk of his car and pulling out his suitcase. Well, it was Gold’s, in actual fact. He hadn’t owned anything he could hang his borrowed suits in and Gold had insisted his beloved clothing make the trip in style. He hoisted the garment bag over his shoulder and slammed the trunk shut, shuffling up the cement steps that led from the curb up to the B&B.

So Lacey had booked him a room, he supposed. It was just as well, considering he and Lacey barely knew each other. She’d hardly want a strange man sleeping on her sofa no matter how harmless he seemed.

The entrance to the inn was small and slightly musty. He couldn’t imagine there was much use for a hotel in a town as small as Storybrooke, but he’d expect there to be other guests with a wedding in town. From what he’d gathered, the bride was far from local.  

There was a small desk nestled under the stairs, a row of recessed key cubbies set into the wall beside it, each bearing a key attached to a shiny brass fob. Rush wasn’t sure he’d ever stayed at a hotel with an actual key rather than a plastic card.

The desk was currently empty and the little bell set atop it made barely a sound when he tapped it, certainly not enough to summon anyone to his aid.

Rush stepped away from the desk, looking around and straining his ears for any sign of life. Perhaps the eponymous Granny was busy in her diner.  

He thought he could just make out a mumbling of voices proving he wasn’t alone in the inn when it was punctuated by a loud laugh, well a guffaw really, and he immediately recognized it as Lacey’s. He wasn’t sure how he could recognize the laugh of a woman he’d only known for two short weeks, but he could picture her accompanying smile, her head thrown back, eyes filled with mirth. Rush smiled in spite of himself, following the sound down the hall and into a cozy lounge.

Lacey was seated on a red damask sofa, sagging a little in the middle from use. She had a china tea cup balanced on her knee and a wide smile on her face. Across from her in a high wingback chair was a plump old woman with a graying bun piled up on her head. She had a pair of bifocals hanging around her neck and a thick khaki cardigan wrapped around herself for warmth.  Granny, he presumed.

“And speak of the devil, here he is!” Lacey cried, motioning at Rush with both arms spread wide, her tea nearly sloshing out of its cup. “You made it!”

“Uh, I did,” he said, dumbly, nervous as always when faced with Lacey’s full attention. She was smiling at him as if she was genuinely happy to see him and though he knew it was most likely an act, he couldn’t quite stop his own smile at the sight of her.

“So you’re the one who swept in and stole our Lacey,” the old woman said, leveling him with a hard look. Rush turned to face her.

“I haven’t stolen anything,” he returned. “I’m just here for as long as Lacey will have me.”

Granny regarded him for a long moment, before giving a curt nod and standing up.

“Let’s get you checked in, shall we?”

It was the work of moments to get Rush checked in, one of those shiny brass key fobs in hand, even with Granny leveling mild threats at him if he treated Lacey badly.

“She’s mildly terrifying,” Rush said once they were headed up the stairs and out of ear shot.

“Who, Granny?” Lacey asked. Without waiting for an answer she gave a flippant wave of her hand. “She’s harmless. Unless you insult her cooking, that is.”

“Is she your grandmother?”

“No,” Lacey said with a shrug. “Everyone just calls her that since she runs Granny’s Inn and Diner. I don’t think she was the original Granny though. It may have been her mother? Or grandmother? I don’t know. She’s my friend Ruby’s biological grandmother but she fills the role for most people in town. Ruby’s mum split when she was six and Granny raised her. Me and Belle’s mum died when we were 13 and she kind of took it upon herself to mother us too.”

“I didn’t realize you lost your mother so young,” he said. “That must have been difficult.”

“Oh,” Lacey said with a shrug. “I mean sure, it sucked, but it is what it is, right? And we still have dad.”

The last was said with a little eye roll that belied her words. Rush could well understand complicated feelings about fathers.  

“And here we are,” Lacey said once they’d reached the end of the upstairs hallway, motioning at the door with a brass number 3 on it. Rush used his key to unlock the door, having to force it slightly with the side of his foot.

The room was small but clean, a little too floral for his tastes. There was a double bed in the middle of the room, a small antique desk beneath the window that looked out toward the forest, and an armchair in the corner next to a lace doily covered rickety side table with a rotary phone on top.

But the thing that most arrested Rush’s attention was the presence of a small duffle bag sitting in the middle of the bed.

“I think Granny gave me the wrong room,” he said, turning to Lacey as she followed him inside.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, stepping around him to throw herself bodily onto the bed, the springs creaking loudly beneath even her slight weight.

He motioned to the suitcase next to where Lacey was sprawled across the bed.

Lacey followed his gaze.

“Oh, that’s mine.”

Rush blinked.

“What?”

Lacey pushed herself up on the heels of her hands, giving him a look like he was somehow stupid. Rush was not stupid.

“It’s our room,” she said slowly.

“Why are we sharing a room?” he returned, just as slowly.

Lacey shrugged. “Because we’re dating, silly. It’d be weird if we didn’t sleep together.”

“I apologize,” Rush said with a little shake of his head. “But I’m a little confused. I assumed I was staying here at the inn because having a strange man in your home was an issue. Why are we both staying here?”

“Oh!” Lacey exclaimed, sitting forward. “Sorry. I figured you didn’t want to stay at my dad’s place. That’d be…awkward.”

“You don’t have your own place?” he asked, before realizing how that sounded. “Sorry, no judgment. I’ve heard it’s hard out there for…millenials.”

Lacey snorted a laugh and Rush winced at how terribly old he must sound. 

“No, I had my own apartment,” Lacey said with a nod. “But I’m back with my dad for a bit. Once Will left town I couldn’t afford rent by myself so…” she trailed off.

“You lived together?” he asked. It seemed every time he got more of a glimpse of Lacey’s previous relationship, the more involved it was.

“Yeah, well we were together almost four years. At some point you move in together or you split up.”

“F--four years?” he stuttered out. “You never told me that.”

Lacey blinked.

“Look, Lacey, I need to know what I’m getting into here. You and Will were together for four years? You lived together for some of that time? What, were you ever engaged?”

“No!” Lacey exclaimed. “It was never that serious.”

“Four years and a shared apartment isn’t serious?”

“We were never gonna get married,” she countered. “It was fun and easy, but not earth shattering. We were…glorified roommates. With benefits. Not even great benefits, in case you were wondering.”

He wasn’t.  

“Regardless,” Rush continued. “You were together a long time and now, only a few months after your split, you’re attending his wedding. Have you thought this through?”

“Yes!” Lacey exclaimed, hopping up from the bed, the creaky springs bouncing wildly. “Yes, we were together for a while. Yes, he dumped me. Yes, he’s getting married to someone else in an infuriatingly short time span. But I don’t love the guy, okay? If I ever did, those feelings ended long ago, before the relationship did. Right now what I need is a nice, stable boyfriend so I don’t look pathetic and Ana doesn’t get weirdly jealous and decide not to wear my dress last minute. If you don’t feel comfortable with that, well, you can go.”

She pointed to the door of the room, her chest heaving and blue eyes flashing.

“I just want to know what I’m getting into,” he repeated.

Lacey took a deep breath, her arm dropping to her side.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a little nod. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just so fucking tired of people asking me if I’m okay. I’m great.”

“Okay,” he said, unconvinced. He crossed the room to where a small wardrobe stood, and hung up his garment bag inside. “What now?”

Lacey gave him a big smile. “Free booze and crab cakes, baby. Who doesn’t love a wedding? We’re gonna have a blast.”

Rush just grunted in response. He’d never been keen on weddings, but at least there’d be an open bar.

“Oh shit,” Lacey said, glancing down at her watch. “I need to get dressed for tonight.”

“What’s tonight?” Rush asked.

Lacey’s eyes widened.

“Did I forget to tell you? There’s a little party at the diner for the out of town guests.”

“You told me about the rehearsal dinner and you told me about the wedding, that’s all I packed for. I didn’t bring any extra clothes,” Rush said, glancing down at his jeans.

“What you’re wearing is fine,” Lacey assured him. “It’s just Granny’s. It’s a diner.”

“Then why are you changing?” he asked with a pointed look at her leggings and sweater.

“Because I’m a fashion designer,” Lacey crooned. “And people expect me to make a spectacle of myself. I’ll just be a minute!”

She grabbed her bag off the bed, heading into the en suite bathroom and Rush sat back against the rickety bed, the mattress groaning beneath his weight. He tested it a bit, bouncing himself up and down.

It was a good thing he and Lacey weren’t an actual couple. If they tried to get up to anything on this bed, the whole bloody town would know.

It took Lacey twenty minutes in the bathroom with her makeup bag to be ready for the evening’s events. Her dress was store bought, but heavily altered. A fitted black mini dress, she’d opened up the back, using ribbon to criss cross across her back and ending in a bow right above her backside. Paired with her signature heels, it was, perhaps, a little dressy for the gathering at Granny’s. But then again, Lacey had never shied from attention of any sort. Everyone would be looking at the happy couple in any case. 

Her stomach churned at the thought, and Lacey squashed down the feeling, smiling at herself in the bathroom mirror instead. There, that was almost how she usually looked. 

When she came back out to the bedroom, Rush was seated on the bed, scrolling on his phone. He’d changed his shirt, she noticed. The rumpled blue one he’d been wearing was replaced with a crisp white button down that stood out beautifully against his tanned skin. He looked up at her as she entered, stuffing his phone into his jeans pocket. 

“Wow,” he said, his eyes widening slightly. Lacey smiled, pleased by his reaction. 

“Not too much?” she asked, twirling to show off the back of the dress she’d worked so hard on. 

Rush stood up from the bed, grabbing the brown suede blazer beside him and shrugging it on. 

“You, um,” he cleared his throat. “You look nice.” 

“Oh Nick, you’ll make me blush,” she said with a wink at him. He shuffled awkwardly, glancing away from her, and Lacey took pity on him. 

“Come on,” she said, grabbing him by the elbow and steering him out the door of their rented room. “Adventure awaits!” 

Granny’s Diner was, predictably, packed, and Lacey could feel Rush tense up beside her as she opened the door, laughter and the smell of sizzling meat spilling out into the chilly evening. She looped her arm through his, trying to feel confident enough for the both of them.

She whispered names and tidbits of information to Nick as they maneuvered their way through the crowd. 

“That tall one with the red streaks in her hair is Ruby,” she whispered into his ear while feigning a flirtatious moment. “Granny’s granddaughter and my oldest friend. The blonde next to her is Ashley. Don’t get stuck in a conversation with her unless you want to be bored to death.” 

“Thanks for the warning,” he mumbled back. 

“Oh, and here comes the bride,” she intoned, stepping back from Nick to welcome the approaching Anastasia. 

“Lacey!” Ana called, her voice a little too loud. There’d been a lot of that in the last week, smiles just a little too wide, excitement just a little on edge. Lacey could have excused it as pre wedding jitters if she didn’t know the truth. Ana was trying desperately to be okay with her presence.

“Hi, Ana,” she said, before being pulled into an awkward hug. She patted the taller woman’s back twice before stepping away. “You look beautiful, as always.”

Ana glanced down at her cream colored shift dress. It was chic and simple but rather than looking plain, Ana sparkled in comparison.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, grabbing hold of Lacey’s hand. Her eyes slid across to Nick and she gave him one of those overly sincere smiles. “And you must be the professor!”

“And you’re Mary Anne?” he joked. Lacey snorted.

Ana looked confused. “No, I’m Anastasia,” she said, pumping Nick’s hand for all he was worth. “The bride. I’m marrying Will, I believe you’ve met.”

She gestured over her shoulder to where Will was chatting with a few of his mates.

“Of course,” Nick said smoothly. “My apologies.”

“Oh no,” Ana said with a wave of her hand. “I’m so glad you could make it. Please come in, eat something, have a drink. This weekend is all about me, but tonight is about you, the guests!”

“Oh, thank you,” Nick said, looking slightly startled, as though he was staring into the sun and having a hard time not looking away.  

“Ana!” someone called from behind them and she grabbed both their hands. “Excuse me,” she said with a brilliant smile and then swanned away with a slight wave in their direction.

“Wow, she is…”

“Gorgeous?” Lacey interrupted, interpreting Nick’s thoughts. Every head in the room swiveled to follow Anastasia. She didn’t have to dress in over the top frocks or towering heels to get attention. She was one of those rare creatures who entered a room and immediately commanded it. Of course Nick had noticed. He wasn’t blind. She wasn’t sure why it annoyed her so much. 

Nick looked down at her. “I was going to say chipper,” Rush said with a wry twist of his lips. “Do you think if she keeps smiling like that her face will get stuck?” 

Lacey let out a startled laugh, squeezing Rush’s arm before steering him toward a friendlier face. 

Ruby was leaning back against the diner counter with a glass of champagne in one hand and a bored expression on her face that split into a relieved smile when she spotted Lacey. 

“Oh thank God you’re finally here,” Ruby said, pulling Lacey into a side hug. “I’m supposed to be a guest at this thing but Granny keeps making me hand out hors d'oeuvres. Let’s grab a bottle of champagne and split.” 

“No can do,” Lacey said, grabbing Rush’s hand and pulling him to her side. 

“Nick, this is my friend Ruby, Rubes, this is Dr. Nicholas Rush. My boyfriend.”

“Pleasure,” Ruby said, holding a red nailed hand to shake his. Her eyes cut across at Lacey, her eyebrows raised in a question.

“Nice to meet you, Ruby,” Rush said, drawing her attention back to him. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting any of Lacey’s friends yet.”

“Oh really?” Ruby asked. “I didn’t even realize Lacey was dating anyone.”

“It’s still a new thing,” Rush said with a shrug. “And you know Lacey, doesn’t want to make a big thing of it.”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, unconvinced. “Lacey is so understated.” 

Lacey grinned widely, wrapping her arms around Rush and leaning her head against his shoulder. 

“I just wanted to keep him all to myself for a bit.” 

“Oh, hey, Lacey,” came a voice from beside them. “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight.” 

Lacey spun to see Ashley Boyd, holding a tray of beef and caramelized onion canapés. She grabbed one, stuffing it into her mouth and speaking around it. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Ashley’s eyes darted to where Will was standing and back to Lacey. 

“Well…” she began. 

“This is my boyfriend,” Lacey cut across her. “Nick Rush.” 

“Oh,” Ashley said, looking at Rush with startled blue eyes. “Hello.” 

Nick graciously shook her hand. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Ashley asked, setting the tray of canapés down on the counter next to Ruby.

“Nick works with Mr. Gold at the University,” Lacey supplied. “Gold and Belle set us up on a blind date about three months ago and, well, fireworks.” 

“Oh I don’t think there were any fireworks on your side, sweetheart,” Rush said self-deprecatingly. “But I was certainly awestruck to be on a date with you. Still not sure how I got so lucky.”

Lacey could feel herself blushing at the compliment and worked with it, giving him a soppy little smile.  

“That’s so sweet!” Ashley said, before Granny barked at her from behind the bar to pass the canapés again. 

“Excuse me, guys, work calls.” 

Ruby took a long sip of her champagne, her eyes never leaving Lacey as though she was trying to read her mind.  

“Hey, Lace, can I talk to you for a minute?” Ruby asked, her smile strained. “Alone? Excuse us, Dr. Nicholas Rush.” 

Ruby grabbed her hand, lugging her toward the back of the diner by the jukebox. 

 “What are you doing?” Lacey asked. 

“Who the hell is that guy?” Ruby returned, motioning toward Rush.

“Dr. Nicholas Rush,” Lacey said with a shrug. “My boyfriend.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

“You said you’ve been dating him for three months,” Ruby pointed out. “So how come I distinctly remember you telling me about a one night stand you had with some twenty-two year old three weeks ago?”

Lacey swallowed, buying herself a moment.

“We weren’t exclusive then,” she said.

“Oh bullshit,” Ruby cried. “Where did you find that guy?”

“I told you, he’s friends with Gold,” Lacey said truthfully. “Belle set us up.”

“You’ve never dated an older guy before.”

“Well I’m twenty-eight years old,” Lacey pointed out. “Maybe I’m sick of slumming it with pathetic boys. Maybe I want a real man for once. It seems to be working out for Belle.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow. “And the two of you have been known to want the same things,” she said, sarcastically.

At Lacey’s silence, Ruby gave an exaggerated huff.

“Fine. He’s your boyfriend,” she said, making air quotes around the word. “I’ll go along with it if it’s what you need right now. But you do owe me an explanation at some point.”  

“Can’t wait,” she deadpanned at Ruby’s retreating back. 

She stood there for a moment, feeling like she’d been knocked off her groove. She hadn’t expected anyone to see through her ruse quite so quickly. She knew Ruby wouldn’t tell anyone or try to embarrass her, but the more people who knew her secret, the higher the chance she’d end up looking like an idiot. 

At least Will and Ana didn’t seem to suspect anything. The bride-to-be was sipping a glass of white wine with a gaggle of adoring buffoons circled around her. Will was on the opposite side of the diner with his own crowd of well wishers. He looked happy. Happier than she’d seen him in a long time. 

She wished that didn’t make her want to shatter something. 

Instead she opted for a drink, grabbing a glass of champagne off a tray at the bar and swallowing down half of it in one gulp. Then she stood up a little straighter and headed for Will's group. She needed to say hello at the very least. 

Rush was standing awkwardly next to Will, surrounded by a few of his friends. He had a beer clenched in his fist and looked at her rather hopelessly as she approached. 

"Lacey," he said, and she didn't think she imagined the relief in his voice. She wondered how he'd been drawn into conversation with Will in the first place. She could only hope he wasn't so annoyed with Will and his friends that he abandoned this whole scheme. 

“Dr. Rush was just telling us all about academic life,” Will said with a slight twist to his lips. “Never knew you to go for the brainy types, Lace.” 

“I didn’t go to college,” boomed Will’s friend John, a giant of a man they all had to crane their necks to see. “Yeah, just wasn’t for me.” 

“I think finishing high school is a prerequisite for getting into university, mate,” Will said, slapping his friend on the back. 

“Oh and where did you go to school?” Lacey cut across Will. “If I remember correctly, your Facebook profile says you attended the “School of Hard Knocks”. Where is that located? Seattle?”  

Will opened his mouth with an undoubtedly witless retort, but was saved the embarrassment by Rush. 

“Academia is just another job,” he said. “No better or worse than any other. My father was a dock worker in Glasgow and I did my fair share of manual labor in my youth. I’ve nothing but respect for honest work. Frequently it pays better than teaching too.” 

That earned a round of agreement from Will’s friends. 

“You know how much underwater welders rake in?” Will’s friend Robin asked. “A guy I used to work with went to diving school and now he’s making six figures.” 

The other men all gave suitably impressed grunts of approval and Lacey resisted rolling her eyes. 

“Thrilling conversation, lads,” she said, stifling a fake yawn. 

“Oh, I apologize,” Will said sarcastically. “Are we boring you?”

“You?” Lacey shot back. “Always.” 

Will snorted a laugh. “Well let's get some tequila in you and you can end the night giving half the diner a lap dance.” 

“That was one time, you asshole,” Lacey laughed, giving Will a playful shove at the memory of her 24th birthday. “And it wasn’t a lap dance, it was a table dance. Get it right. Granny had me banned for a full 6 weeks.”  

Will’s friends all laughed at the memory and for a split second, it felt like life had gone back to normal, to six months ago when everything still made sense. Until they were interrupted. 

“Hey, you, I thought I’d lost you,” Ana said, walking up and placing a hand on Will’s shoulder. 

“Never,” Will said with gusto, wrapping his arm around Ana’s slim waist and kissing her cheek.  

Lacey felt the smile on her face freezing like she was in rictus. 

“What’s so funny over here?” Ana asked, glancing around at them all. 

Will swallowed uncomfortably. “Oh nothing, just remembering a time Lacey made a fool of herself.”

Ana glanced at Lacey with raised eyebrows. 

“That’s me,” Lacey said, raising her champagne glass in salute. 

“Hmm,” Ana said, turning back to Will with a pretty little pout. “I’m heading back to the house. I have an early morning tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep.” 

“Aw, babe, it’s so early still,” Will groused. 

“I have yogalates at 6 and I will look dreadful if I don’t get seven hours sleep before then.” 

“Not possible for you to be anything but perfect,” Will said, nuzzling his nose against Ana’s. 

Lacey had to clamp her lips together to keep from chucking up her champagne and canapés. 

Ana let out a tinkling little laugh, pecking Will on the lips. 

“Oh, stop, darling,” she said, lightly slapping him on the chest. “You need to get your sleep too. The last thing we need is you showing up to the wedding completely sleep deprived because you’ve stayed up until the wee hours all weekend, you night owl. Lacey, I’m sure you remember what he’s like.”

Suddenly all eyes swiveled from the happy couple to Lacey. It was Ana’s first public acknowledgment of Lacey’s status as Will’s ex. 

“Um, yeah,” Lacey said, unsure of where the conversation was headed. 

“But of course that was ages ago. I’m sure his habits may have changed as he matured.” 

Next to Ana, Will’s eyes widened, his head dipping almost imperceptibly into a nod. A clear sign she was meant to agree with Ana’s misconception. 

“Ages,” she repeated flatly. 

Will gave her another little nod. 

So, he still wasn’t being honest with his fiance. Lacey felt a bubble of anger rising up in her stomach to be in this position yet again. But never mind all that. She just had to get through the next couple of days. Then she could never see Will or Ana again. Then she could forget this whole horrid thing and, hopefully, move on to bigger and better commissions. Enough to get her own place. Enough to leave Storybrooke entirely. 

“Not so sure about matured, though,” Lacey couldn’t help the barb. “There’s something to be said for experience, after all, and Will is certainly lacking in that regard.” 

She turned to Rush still standing silently at her side, cupping his cheek with her hand before pulling him down for a kiss. His beard was scratchy beneath her palm, his lips parting in shock as she dipped her tongue into his mouth. His hand came up to cradle her waist, giving her a firm squeeze that also served to push her away slightly. 

Lacey stepped back, breaking the kiss as the other assembled guests looked around awkwardly.

“Anyway,” Ana continued brightly, “beauty sleep and all that. I’ll see you tomorrow at the luncheon, Lacey?” 

“Of course,” Lacey said, still wrong-footed from Rush’s reaction to her kiss.

Ana gave them all one last brilliant smile as Will walked her to the door. 

“I think that’s our cue, too,” Lacey said, downing the remnants of her champagne. Rush was tense beside her, and she needed to free him from this charade as soon as possible before he blew their whole cover. “Goodnight, everyone.” 

Rush followed her silently out of the diner and back out into the chilly spring evening.  

Rush was quiet on the short walk back to the B&B and Lacey was desperate for something to say to break the tension. Rush had been selling their fake relationship so well up until the end when he’d almost physically recoiled from her. It couldn’t just be the kiss. She’d kissed him before and while surprised, he’d seemed to enjoy it. 

They trudged up the stairs and to their shared room at the inn and Lacey couldn’t stand the idea of spending the night with someone who wasn’t speaking to her. 

Rush’s shoulders were hunched, his hands buried in his jeans pockets, his face inscrutable. He looked like that miserable man she’d first met in the bar in Boston weeks ago. 

“What’s the matter?” she blurted out once they were in their room. “I get the feeling I did something to upset you and I’d rather just know what it is.” 

Rush half turned to glance at her, not giving her the benefit of looking her full in the face.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. 

“Please don’t do that,” Lacey said with a sigh. “Something you should know about me, I’m a frank person. I don’t play games and I don’t make you guess what I’m feeling. I’d prefer the same courtesy.” 

“Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel. “You made me uncomfortable tonight, are you happy?” 

Lacey just blinked. 

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. 

Rush shook his head. “Look, I know it’s technically what I’m here for, but having you stuff your tongue down my throat to upset your ex boyfriend’s new fiance at her wedding party felt ever so slightly morally reprehensible.” 

“So this is about Ana,” Lacey said, crossing her arms against her chest. “I suppose she’s got you in her thrall too already. And you’ve only just met her. I suppose it’s no surprise Will is ready to marry her after only a few months.” 

“This isn’t about Ana,” Rush countered. “Though she seems like a perfectly nice person and I'm unsure what she’s done to piss you off so badly.” 

Lacey didn’t have an answer for that. It wasn’t Ana’s fault. She hadn’t known of Lacey’s existence when she met and fell for Will. She hadn’t even known they’d ever dated until recently and she still didn’t know the extent of their past relationship. None of this was Ana’s fault. But she was just so bloody perfect. Lacey was used to being desired, to men finding her attractive. She’d never felt ugly until she stood next to Anastasia. She’d never been a jealous person until that striking blonde had showed up. She was wildly jealous of Anastasia, for everything she was and everything Lacey wasn’t. 

“I dated Will for four years,” she said. “And he broke out in hives at the hint of any sort of commitment whatsoever. He didn’t even go to Belle and Gold’s wedding with me because he was so freaked out by marriage as an institution. But he’s willing to marry her? Some girl he barely knows?” 

“You wanted to marry him,” Rush accused.

“No!” Lacey shot back. “I never even thought about it. If he’d ever asked I’d have laughed in his face. But having someone so soundly reject you stings. Forgive me if I think I’m owed the right to be a little salty about all this.”  

Rush took a deep breath before nodding. 

“Could you just not spring any more surprise kisses on me?” he asked, tentatively. “We can hold hands and dance and flirt, but no more of that. You made me feel…” he trailed off, seemingly unable to find an appropriate word.  

Lacey felt suddenly small, like the tiniest most insignificant person in the world. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “No more kissing. I’ve got it.” 

Rush gave her another stiff nod before going to the wardrobe and shrugging off his blazer to hang it there. 

That was the end of that, then. No kissing. No rubbing her “relationship” in Will’s face. Suddenly the weekend didn’t seem so fun. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up and change into her pajamas, Lacey found herself lying in bed beside Rush, the awkwardness between them almost unbearable. She wasn’t sure how to approach him now. She’d played too fast and loose and made him uncomfortable. He was a good man doing her a massive favor and she’d alienated him after an afternoon. She was a completely shit person. 

“I’m sorry,” she said aloud, unsure if Rush was even still awake on the other side of the bed with his back to her. “I really am.”

“I know,” he returned, his voice sleepy. “It’s alright.”

It wasn’t though. And she didn’t know how to make it so. 

“You’re an excellent kisser, by the way,” he said into the darkened room. “That’s not what this is about.” 

She stared at his back in the gloom, wondering where he was going with this.

“Thanks?” she said, her statement sounding like a question. 

Rush snorted a laugh. 

“I just didn’t want you getting the wrong idea,” he continued. “Under other circumstances…” he trailed off, letting the statement hang in the air. 

“Yeah,” Lacey agreed. 

She rolled over on the creaky mattress, putting her back to Rush. Maybe if Gold had set them up when they’d had no ulterior motives. Maybe if she’d been a fully functioning adult. Maybe…

Lacey drifted off to sleep on the thoughts of what might have been. 

#anyelle #raven's fic #rushacey #fic: the worst that could happen #rumbelle fic

[drev-the-procrastinator]

6, 11, 22 from this ask game

ohohoo thanks for the ask!!! this was harder than i thought it would be. also heads up, the snippets are very unpolished and like 1st draft things. i hope you like them anyway!! <3

6 . that i struggled with, but triumphed over my bachelor's essay lol okay let's see what i've got… ajaskhfa there are so many things i am struggling with right now to be honest ghh. and am yet to triumph over. hmmm. okay i thought about this very hard. but i cannot think of anything to fit this category jafkjsf. i only have things i'm currently struggling with ;_; upon more reflection i would like to nominate this answer as this one ajfaksdfjaskfjn. not a very good answer i know but. it's truthful at least! i was considering maybe taking part in a wip wednesday to maybe work on some of the ones i'm really struggling with, but we'll see!

11 . with characters i want to write more in the future hmm two choices… I'll go with the TOH thing! okay i chose this one specifically because i've got a WIP with both of them, this one, or the hypothetical toh fic as i like to call it (because i had/have my doubts about if i ever actually manage to write it) and then two other WIPs with one about Evelyn and Caleb, and then one being a. post-canon, pre timeskip road trip au with Hunter and Luz. so i do want to write both of them more! so yea

“Oh! Oh.” caleb looks stricken for a moment, before making a visible effort to school his expression. “No. Have you thought- this whole-?” the man cuts himself off, pressing a hand to his mouth. he isn’t very good at guarding his expressions, hunter notes, puzzled by the distress that shows through. “I just… I assumed?” he says, fiddling with the empty mug, shoulders rising, but in embarrassment rather than fear. “It was a long fall.” there is a short moment of silence that to him at least feels like hours, during which hunter, ears burning, does his best to wish he’d sink back to the ground from which he’d crawled out, until caleb snorts in amusement and drops the hand from his mouth, and the tension breaks. “I suppose it was,” caleb says with the corner of his mouth pulling to a start of a smile, in a tone hunter would swear is almost fond, and offers hunter his hand. the titanawful distress is gone from his face. hunter takes the offered hand, without hesitation, and caleb pulls him to his feet. “No, you’re not dead,” caleb reassures him, as he gently holds hunter’s hand between his own again, even though it’s perfectly warm here in the little cabin and his fingers don’t need any warming. hunter doesn’t feel the need to pull away, but he knows that if he wanted to, caleb would let him, without question. “You yet live. I’m sorry I’ve kept you this long. it’s taken… a bit longer than we thought.” “We?” caleb smiles, a quick, knowing, almost mischievous smile, but in lieu of answering he steps back just a little, looks hunter over, and with a squeeze of his hands lets go. only to step closer, slowly, just to an arm’s length from him, and then when hunter doesn’t flinch away dusts something off hunter’s shoulder, and smoothes a crease from his shirt, fiddles with the collar of the wolf t-shirt as though any adjustment would carry over to his, apparently still living body, until he seems satisfied, and then sets his hands on hunter’s shoulders again, both, this time. it’s a little like how his uncle had used to look over him when he’d been really small and had to accompany him to some sort of important social function, but a lot more like camila looking over luz at the doorstep that first day she’d had to go back to school in the human realm, even down to fixing his clothes. hunter’s still a little shorter than him, not by a lot, and most likely not for long, but for now caleb does have to look slightly down at him. “Right,” he starts, and then doesn’t seem to be sure how to continue. his eyes flit back and forth, around hunter’s face, as if only now, in the golden soft light of the moment just before the dawn breaks, he’s seeing him properly for the first time. taking him in. committing to memory. “This is it, then?” hunter asks, even though he already knows. caleb hums, glances out the window, and hunter follows his lead. the sun is just below the horizon. the tops of trees nearby are bathed in a bright and warm red light. “Just about”, caleb says and looks back at hunter. he’s silent for a little while, before exhaling softly out of his nose and carefully, telegraphing his every move (though it’s not like he could hide them from someone with hunter’s training anyway), brushes some stray hairs from his face, including the ever-present strand that bounces back immediately. “I don’t know how much of this you’ll remember”, caleb confesses, his hand settling back onto hunter’s shoulder so lightly that hunter knows the grip, if it can even be called that much, would break if he were so much as to lean backwards, “I’ve never sent anyone back before. But I hope something remains. If nothing else, then what I told you in the clearing.” [***] “And you’ve got to take better care of yourself”, caleb says, sternly and only half-teasingly. “There’s only so much magic that can fit in a palisman that small. Cardinals aren’t big birds, young man.” hunter’s eyes widen.

hehe :3c also the thing caleb told him in the clearing? well i didn't like the wording on it so i took it out. oh dear, looks like you'll have to read the whole thing to find out someday.... and YES if you've read "hands, grasping", it IS the same fall! same fic haha. i'll put a read more here because the next bits are rather long,,, yes, long snippets, i don't get to share my writing often ahaha. but anyway!

22 . that is so blissfully self-indulgent

hghhhh okay let's see. I'll give you a toh snippet and then maybe a REAL self indulgent one, i mean, the sort that has a potential readership of. maybe two people max lmao. sorry, hunter's having a bad time in this too :( tw i suppose for bad injuries on a minor. and blood. sorry hunter

something warm dripped down his chin. he thought he might've heard someone screaming his name, but it was hard to tell past the ringing in his ears. he might've hit his head on landing. funnily enough, he couldn't feel much pain from that. it was quite wholly eclipsed by the searing, piercing pain in his chest. i'm not caleb, but the thought was more like a distant, frightened question. everything else felt distant, far-away somehow, but he was very aware of his physical body. the hot pain in his chest- dark red stain on white cotton- i'm not caleb-- the shivers, his skin breaking out in a cold sweat. the rough ground against his palm and arm as he tried to hold himself up, the tiny sharp pebbles digging into them. the cold numbness starting to spread from the tips of his fingers and toes. the sharp sear of the wound in time with his rasping breaths. the blurry sight of his bloody, trembling arms. there was a stinging cut on his left palm, from the blade-arm. the ground below him, glistening with spreading dark red. i'm not caleb. he had to get up. he had to stand up. he couldn't fight, but he couldn't stay here. the only thing he'd serve as a distraction for would be his friends as they'd scramble to shield him and keep any attacks or debris from hitting him. he had to move. he had to. he tried to get his legs under him, but even just moving them a little, ignoring the flare of searing pain he had to grit his teeth together against, he could tell they wouldn't carry. he crawled. from the sound of it, a sizable rock crashed into the ground where he'd just been seconds ago. he only made it a couple more feet before the jittery, jelly-like feeling from his legs spread to his arms. a mere foot further, and what little strenght he'd managed to claw from himself had run out. his arms were too weak to even tremble. it was all he could to to slowly lower himself to the ground, instead of just collapsing outright. it was getting harder to breathe. he felt something bubbling up inside his chest. he coughed, and it hurt, and his mouth tasted like iron. i'm not caleb, and now it was a desperate plea. […] the fit passed. he spat out the blood, and squeezed his eyes shut.) his breaths were shaky, and not just from pain. i'm not caleb, he thought and clung to that thought with the desperation of a drowning man. i am not him, so i will not die like him. i won't die at belos' hand. i can't, because i'm not caleb, and i am going to live. i am going to live, because Flap gave his life for me to live, and i promised him, and i promised my friends, and i promised luz, and i promised caleb, and he told me i'm not him, i'm hunter, and caleb died but hunter will live. i'm not caleb…

he'll be fineeeeeeee and the other, really self indulgent one, just for me:

"we’re married now, after all. i am your wife”, she said, and the words brought with them a warm feeling in her chest, in her belly, in her heart, “and you are my husband.” “…and what does that mean?” “what do you think it means?” “i… i don’t-” he cut himself off, swallowed whatever he’d been about to say, if he even knew it himself. for a moment he nearly looked ill, and stared at her so helplessly it made her want to bring back his father just to send him to his coffin herself. but now wasn’t the time for that. she let her anger and frustration bleed out in a sigh. “for now…” she slowly lifted his hands, making sure to hold them gently, to give him the chance to pull away if he wished. he held his breath, but did not move away. his hands stayed in hers; his hands, smoother and softer than her own even after all this time. so warm, always so kind to her. now slightly trembling. slow in her movements, she kissed them, the softest touch on the knuckles on each hand. she heard his breath catch at the first of them, but he still did not pull away. she looked back up at his face. his eyes, glistening in the firelight, were wide, but he no longer looked as sickly pale with fear and panic as he had before. it seemed as though he had been looking at her and seeing a stranger, and the spark of recognition was only now returning. she let her gaze soften. “…it means whatever you want it to mean. nothing more, nothing less.” for a moment, there was silence. he searched her face, her eyes for something she could not have consciously given him, neither moving, not speaking, barely breathing. just when she was starting to fear it wasn’t there, whatever he needed to find, he found it. she saw it in the moment he unfroze, how his posture dropped from the fear of a prey animal he’d entered the room with to exhaustion in the blink of an eye. “it’s you”, was all he said, and it was such a strange thing to say, in all its relief and its surety, that she couldn’t help but smile, but couldn’t even herself tell if it was from amusement at his words or sheer joy that he’d said them. he was tearing up, face slowly cracking with emotion. “it’s still you.” “well, of course”, she said after a moment of consideration, and reached to brush a strand of hair from his face, and smiled in what she hoped was hidden bemusement. “it was all the make-up and jewelry, wasn’t it.” his hand that she had let fall immediately grasped the other. “no,” he said and shook his head for good measure, and continued, voice thick, “i think i forgot. but it’s you.” with him gripping her hand like this, as though his life depended on it ,where just before he’d first not even looked at her and then flinched from her touch, she thought she understood. she laid her free hand on top of both of his. they still trembled. “it’s me.”

hehe haha. the ace yearning of someone loving you so much that they think you're enough just as you are is strong with this one. also they are my guys (gender neutral)……. also what's it with these snippets and someone making sure the other one can pull away from their hold if they so wish?? maybe it's someone who has all their life been forced into Situations of all sorts getting to interact with someone who Knows and doesn't want to force them into any more Situations if they do not wish to be. very different sorts of Situations in this one. but even so.

#thanks so much or the ask!! it was tough to find anything i've actually written out afjaksfasj #i hope these were not too long #the last bit is from a fanfic au that got so far divorced from the og thing it might as well just be original fiction now #it's called the kingdom au and i love it lots and i cannot for the life of me get myself to write it ghhhh #it's kinda cool tho i promise #they have names too i was just too embarrassed to use them with this bit for some reason!!! #and yeah. yea :)

[purplesurveys]

1567

Have you ever accidentally sent the wrong smiley? ;) Ugh, yeah. What made it more embarrassing is that it was a typo for a work-related text; I was speaking with a big influencer. I meant to finish my message with a smiley face, but for whatever reason my fingers slipped and I ended up pressing the fucking green-faced barfing emoji. And since it was the last part of my text I went ahead and clicked Send the same time I discovered the error hahaha.

Are you more likely to go drive-thru or actually walk in to get fast food? Neither...food delivery is my go-to, especially for fast food. I haven’t stepped foot inside a fast food establishment in months; and I usually avoid drive-thru since they rarely have cashless options.

How many times have you had a nosebleed? I’ve never had one, actually.

If you were to make a lot of noise right now, would you wake anyone up? It would make everyone in this establishment stare and possibly be annoyed; but no, no one would wake up because everyone here is awake.

Do you need to have a shower right now? Yeah, I do. My last one was yesterday morning and I don’t exactly feel 100% anymore considering how humid it’s been.

How many vowels are in your middle name? My legal middle name has one vowel, but it shows up twice.

Do you have all of the vowels in your full name? Nope.

Are you currently crushing on anyone? Just near-delusional crushes on celebrities I have zero chances with, but otherwise no.

How do you feel right now? I’m fine; a little cold. I also suspect a bit of palpitation coming through tonight because I’ve just ordered a venti.

Do you talk in your sleep that you know of? Nah. When I do things in my sleep I actually end up waking myself up most of the time hahaha, and I’ve never caught myself talking mid-sleep.

Have you ever been on a road trip of more than 10 hours? Ugh, yes. Longest roadtrip we’ve had was the one headed to Sagada; that was about 15 hours, if I’m not mistaken.

Are you waiting for anything right now? My sister replying to a question I just sent her on Messenger.

How far away is the nearest KFC? Like, 3 minutes. There’s a mall really close by that if you drive going there you wouldn’t even be able to finish a song.

Do you use reusable bags when you go grocery shopping? No. I keep forgetting that’s an option since I rarely go to the grocery anyway.

Have you ever met someone online and then met them in person? Yes! I’ve met Jila and Rafie once. Javi too but we don’t talk about that ass.

Do you tend to wake up in a different position you fell asleep in? Barely. I’m usually still on the same side, or even almost the same position. What does your perfume or cologne smell like? A bit on the fruity side.

Is there a bookshelf in your bedroom? No. The top of my closet is what serves as my ‘bookshelf,’ hahaha.

Have you ever seen Flight of the Conchords? No, I don’t think I’ve heard of that.

How many hours away is the next sunset? ...20 minutes ago.

What was the last flavour of ice cream you ate? Cookies and cream.

Do you want to move out of your current house any time soon? Why or why not? I’d love to live on my own, definitely! I’ve never tried it before and I’m actually pretty envious of my younger sister because she’s been able to live alone (i.e. in a dorm back when she was in college) even before me, lol. I’d love to know how I’d fare, how I’d decide things on my own, all that; but I’m also not in a rush and I also know to be realistic about my situation. I know for a fact that with my current salary I wouldn’t last a month out there, so I’m taking my time and just trying to reach a place where I can finally afford to sustain myself.

Are there a lot of noisy birds around your house? Not really birds, but the frogs and crickets can definitely get loud at night.

Have you been to a fancy restaurant in the past year? Yeah, a few times.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? Yeah, I never learned.

Do you follow recipes carefully or just skim over quickly? Well if I ever have to do one I have to follow every step really carefully, because I can’t cook or bake in the first place and am completely clueless in the kitchen.

What colour are your favourite cousin's eyes? Dark brown.

Have you ever nearly fallen asleep behind the wheel of a car? Nearly, yes. It was when I was headed home from Nasugbu after a day trip to the beach. Wading in the water does a fantastic job of making you feel sleepy – so add that sensation + the road trip going home that had horrible traffic all throughout, and you’ve got me trying to fight off sleep the entire time. Are you hungry right now? Nah I’m pretty full actually. The pastry I had at Starbucks earlier was heavy.

Do bugs bother you or not? Yes. Not a fan. When was the last time you played a board game? Who did you play with? The last anything I remember playing was a card drinking game and that was like, October last year.

Don't you hate having to call banks and insurance companies? Only because I sometimes develop phone anxiety; otherwise I just want whatever issue I have solved so I go ahead and make the call anyway.

Do you know anyone named Harley? Yes, I work with one. Really nice dude!

Are there any dints or scratches on your car? Yes, I have a pretty noticeable one at the back right part of my car – I got it from one of the first few times I started driving on my own, heh. I braked a little too harshly and abruptly, so car behind me hit me. 

Weirdly enough there is also one on the front right part, near my headlight; I’ve never been in an incident that would cause a dent there and for the longest time I’ve been suspecting that it’s probably a hit-and-run that happened while I was away.

What's your favourite place to shop for bras and underwear? Online shops here and there. I don’t have a preferred brand.

Have you ever thrown someone's stuff away on purpose? Yeah I had a major throwing-out for all my ex’s stuff last year. Funny you ask this too because this morning I also just caught a few more remaining clothes that she bought me that are still in my closet. Already put that crap in a paper bag ready to be discarded tonight.

Do you have any cool or cute keychains? Yes, I have a couple of the most adorable Tata keychains hanging alongside my car keys/house key.

Is your mailing address different than your residential address? No.

Are there any farms near your house? What animals do they have? No farms nearby but I do know I have a neighbor that keeps chickens.

Do you ever write in cursive? Barely anymore, but I do still practice cursive on scratch paper whenever I can just so I don’t get rusty.

[kilo-ftd]

D + 58

      My time at the hotel came to an end, and my family was little help. I was truly on my own, and so far from home. I made the arduous ride back to the car, somewhat easier due to being more downhill, and loaded all my gear back into it. Not knowing what to do, I hit the ignition, and to my surprise, it did start after resting for several days. My only goal at that point was to get to Little Rock, where there was more civilization to possibly have a mechanic repair it, and where I could find work if I needed. I did make it to the city, but the car died soon after on a sleepy suburban road. I was able to pull off and park on a side road, where many people stopped to offer me help. I had to turn them down as the problem was much more complicated than a simple jumpstart. I resolved to keep messing with it and researching until I figured out what was wrong. 

      One kind stranger who lived nearby brought me this delicious meal and offered his number if I needed anything. I continued to mess with different systems of the car and research online, sometimes getting to to almost start but it would quickly die. Eventually, someone stopped who knew a little more about cars, and was genuinely interested in them. He troubleshooted it with me for over an hour, and even let me use one of the power relays out of his car to try and see if that was the fault.

           Damage from my car’s short lived career as a Jeep

       We tried feeding the engine carb cleaner, which did help, though we couldn’t get it consistently running. After a while, he shook the car with the gas tank open, and determined that there was no fuel. I reasoned that this was impossible, as my gauge was not showing any signs of malfunction and was reading a solid 4 gallons. I also didn’t think it was possible to have run out of fuel considering the distance I travelled since my last fillup. I had no options though, and accepted his very generous offer to bring me some fuel. My surprise when he came back with five gallons and dumped them all in my tank, and an even bigger shock when the car started and ran fine. He didn’t even want payment for any of it, and was genuinely happy to help. I managed to negotiate his cash app handle out of him so that I could pay him back when I returned home.       Well, dear reader, this is where my grand Ozark adventure ended. With the unpredictable failure of my only means of transportation, i was forced to return home, which I did safely, making sure that my fuel didn’t get too close to the failure point. I sent the good samaritan $100 for the fuel and being so willing to help a stranger. But what was wrong with my car? Did I really run out of fuel?       Of course not. I may be stupid enough to push my rig beyond it’s limits in the pursuit of exploration, but I knew that I had gas in it. When i filled up, I was only able to get 12 gallons before it was full, meaning that the 4 gallons that the gauge indicated was definitely in there. I struggled with surprise engine failures in the months after my trip, but the failure point was inconsistent, occurring anywhere between 3 and 5 gallons in the tank. After much fruitless searching online, i finally found some technical bulleting that described my exact problem. The vehicle has a saddle tank, with fuel split between the two halves, and one half containing the fuel pump, while the other contains what is known as a sender unit. It is a complicated mess of plastic and tubes. But inside the sender unit is a suction jet pump which relies on fluid mechanics to pump the fuel from one side of the tank to the other. When this pump fails, the car is starved of fuel around 16 liters. precisely my failure point. The reasons i was able to start my car after it died was just luck, or maybe things shifted over time and then the problem returned causing the additional failures.       Upon inspection of my fuel tank, I discovered small pieces of plastic debris inside. A portion of the sending unit has broken during the rough driving over rocky terrain, and one of these pieces was firmly logged in the suction jet, clogging it and preventing the rest of the gas from going where it needs to go. It was as simple as removing the debris, and everything was functioning normally again.        But what of my adventures? Well, there is good news, as I am typing this on the eve of my next grand journey. 

      I will be attempting to make this incredible and ambitious 5000+ mile expedition this week. I will have a shoestring budget and rely on making money on the road to support getting me further. I have selected an exhaustive list of targets covering a vast range of experiences across these unique climates and regions. Doubtless I will run into many crazy situations and things will likely go wrong at some point again, but I am prepared to take whatever the road throws at me, as a true nomad, and one way or another I will reach my destination. The plan could change due to lack of time for money, but the adventure will be as rewarding as ever. Join me, if you will, on the next theatre of operations.                             

                                Adventure is out there!                                            - 5/15/23 -

[xperfectlite]

Pause

This was as much as he could take. Tears pooled in his eyes, but he kept blinking them back as he shoved handfuls of clothes into a duffle bag. With a solid swipe, his hairbrush, deodorant, and other various personal effects found a place in the bag. A picture frame looked up at the boy, a frozen smile peering out from behind the glass. After a beat, the picture found itself face down as a sob loosened itself from the distraught boy. Why, how, and when, had he become such a disappointment?

((Yes hello, I've been working on this for like seven years now. It's my pride and joy and I haven't completed it, but I want to put some of it out there for the world to see. If you like it, I hope you share it or leave a little love behind <3 Thanks!))

CW: talk of sex work and drug use, I personally would imagine this to be more of an 18+ story even though no mature themes are explicitly discussed/described.

The summer sun bore down onto the dry, cracked gravel road as tires kicked up dust above it. An aged '95 Ford F150 was the cause, driving through the old empty highway, muffler crackling all the while. Ezekiel had been meaning to trade in his old beat up farm truck for something more modern or chic, but he had never gotten around to it. Part of it just reminded him of home - the good parts, that is.

It had been close to four years since Ezekiel had decided to leave his hometown. While most recent high school graduates were making plans to go off and either begin their working lives or continue their education, the young man had chosen a different option entirely. Briefly, his brain flicked through the many nights he had spent road-tripping and partying, doing anything he could to get someone to look at him, to prove that he was worth any amount of energy they would spare. Honestly, it was a little pathetic and he couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Ezekiel shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he crossed the county line, right into Regal County, Nebraska. With more solid resolve, he kept up his drive towards his childhood home, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Though he had been through a lot in the past few years, the roads outside of Otterval were still imprinted into his mind like instinct. It wasn’t that big of a shock, as he had only spent four years abroad compared to the nineteen years he had spent growing up and exploring the countryside surrounding the small town.

Still, Zeke had been driving for quite awhile in order to make it to the town. It probably wouldn’t hurt to see how the local restaurants were doing and maybe take a chance to stretch. He had to drive through the community anyway to get to the opposite side, where his family had always been.

Soon enough, a "decrease speed" sign popped up on the right side of the road over the horizon. As Zeke crossed into the forty-five mile an hour zone, he eased his foot on and off the break. The old truck had been through a lot, so it wasn't very surprising to see that the temperature gauge was starting to climb higher than it normally did.

"I promise you, Betty Lou, we'll get ya checked out once we get there." Ezekiel muttered, patting the hot dashboard. It had been on his mind for a few months now. The idea of coming back here, seeing his father, the old farmhouse, the animals, even the fields. Initially, he punched back at the thoughts. He considered how much he was enjoying himself compared to the dull life Otterval held for him. However, the nights of one-night-stands and the mornings of waking up alone started really driving home the overwhelming loneliness that was beginning to crush him. It wasn’t even a partner he really craved. Ezekiel just wanted to know that there was someone around who actually knew he existed and would at least acknowledge him as something more than a way to get what they wanted.

At the same time, he wasn’t exactly sure that that’s what would happen when he mysteriously showed up at his father’s home with no notice. The man could just as easily not let him in, force him to realize that there wasn’t anything left for him in the tiny town. For the past four years, that’s all he had wanted - the realization that he was free from this place. Now, though, the idea of not having a place to refer to as home settled heavily in his chest.

“Enough.” Zeke muttered to himself, forcing his focus back to the road that was turning into pavement. It wouldn’t be long before he hit Main Street, where he once frequented a quaint restaurant, equally due to the fact that it was owned by his godmother and the food was good. His mouth automatically began to water as he remembered the cheese frenchies and fries he would always get, a dark soda on the side. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to indulge in an unhealthy meal, but he figured this could be a little present to himself.

Zeke coasted into town, allowing the old truck to slow itself down to prevent any further pushing on the temperature gauge. He observed the old-school appearance of the little shops on Main Street, marveling at some new places and remembering the old as he turned his truck into a spot in front of the strip-mall-like structures. A clothing store caught his eye, causing him to wonder why someone would set up such a shop in a town with less than three thousand people. They even called it a ‘boutique’, making the man shake his head. Ezekiel knew that a lot of the small-town kids he had grown up with were kind of stuck-up when it came to fashion or matters that they could use to “prove how worldly” they were. The brunet held back a derisive snort, biting the inside of his cheek. He told himself that when he came back, he would keep an open mind and avoid the old cynicism that liked to follow him when he got remotely close to thinking about Otterval.

Putting aside his thoughts, he decided instead to think about his meal that was just so close. His hands found the glove box, opening it and grabbing his wallet before he shoved his door open and got out. Before walking up, Ezekiel shoved his key in the lock, twisting it into security. As he was heading up the sidewalk, he realized that he had grown up never having to lock anything. However, traveling across the country and staying in city after city taught him he could never be too careful, so he figured his new habit wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

He reached the building he was headed for in the strip, an old place called the Wagon Wheel. Through the glass front of the restaurant, he could see a few of the tables were already full with families. Before Zeke’s eyes could process the faces, his stomach flipped, reminding him that he probably didn’t want to see someone he used to know anyway. He pulled the glass door open, the bell ringing above his head just adding to the din of diners, faint kitchen noises, and the wait staff chatting and laughing while allowing their tables time to enjoy their food. Ezekiel smiled faintly at the familiar smell of both fried food and protein heavy dishes, adding to the comforting aesthetic of the place. He slid himself into a corner booth, not wanting to be too out in the open. The menus were already on the table, the laminate peeling on the sharp edges of the double sided cardstock. Zeke was almost certain his godmother had never changed the menus since he had started frequenting the establishment as a teenager. Sneakers cut into the edge of his eyesight as a waiter approached.

“Hi there, stranger. What can I getcha?” a peppy voice asked. The distinct sound froze Zeke. He quickly looked up, locking eyes with the other man.

He was about as tall as Ezekiel, a similar build too, if not a little more lithe. The other man’s hair was shorter than his, though, a dark brown crew cut. Recognition flashed in blue-grey eyes as his smile faltered for a second.

“Paul?” Zeke asked. The man held his order pad over his mouth.

“Holy shit, that really is Ezekiel fucking Miller.” the waiter muttered. “Oh my God. I didn’t- When did you-? Diane-” Zeke held up his hand and stood as Paul turned his head to look at the door to the kitchen.

“Hey, calm down dude. No one knows I’m back yet.” they stared at each other for a split second before they latched onto each other in a tight hug. The moment of comfort only lasted as long as their stare had before Paul shoved the slightly taller man back, pulling an angry face.

“You big jerk! You didn’t call, text, nothing! I would have even accepted snail mail, dude!” he scolded. Ezekiel smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I mean, if it makes you feel better, I did that to everyone.” the waiter sighed and shook his head.

“It really doesn’t. We were best friends, man.” what Zeke said earlier finally registered in his mind and he gasped. “You haven’t even gone to see Jim yet?” the brunet bit his lip, looking up at his former friend and shaking his head. “Fuck, so you don’t know shit.” the former farm boy quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s there to know? I’m sure my dad couldn’t have done much in four years.” It was the waiter’s turn to bite his lip as he glanced back at the kitchen again.

“You’d be surprised. Hey, let me take a break with you? Let’s catch up.” Ezekiel smiled and nodded.

“Uh, yeah, definitely man. I’d love to. Can I, uh, place an order first?” Paul laughed and held up his forgotten pad.

“Ugh, yes, of course. Wait - let me guess! Cheese frenchie, fries, and.. It’s warm today, so I’m going to guess Coke.” Zeke felt his heart swell with comfort at his best friend still remembering his favorites.

“Please? You are amazing.” the waiter’s smile softened, putting his things into his apron around his waist.

“We were practically joined at the hip for nineteen years. It’s impossible to forget stuff like that.” with that, Paul turned, waving over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. Ezekiel watched him go before he lowered himself back into the booth, sighing.

How could he have forgotten his best friend? Paul Dake had been the closest thing he had ever gotten to a sibling. Hell, at one point they could have even passed as twins.

"Oh look at you two! I almost don't remember which one's mine," a sweet whisper shot through his memory and he cringed at the sound, shoving it and the accompanying feeling of playfulness and fun he had felt in that moment further back into his mind. He wasn't ready to think about his mom yet.

Instead, Ezekiel busied himself with examining the Wagon Wheel. It hadn't changed at all, which wasn't too shocking. Otterval was a sleepy town and the residents loved their routines to a fault. The brunet was sure that if there was so much as a new knickknack on the wall, the old farmers that liked to meet for breakfast would riot. Still, he took it all in anyway. Booths lined both sides of the restaurant, with a couple round tables and chairs sitting in the empty space between them. The decor was definitely a down-home country theme with an actual wagon wheel adorning the wall across from the doorway. Various black and white historical pictures of Otterval and replicas of obsolete farm tools filled what empty space was left. Vaguely, Ezekiel's mind provided the fact that the museum on the outskirts of town actually provided copies of the photos to his godmother for the ten year anniversary of the restaurant.

The brunet turned in his seat slightly to look in the corner of the front of the restaurant on the other side of the establishment. The corner of his mouth ticked up slightly, seeing the familiar jukebox still glowing peacefully. It held numerous CDs, though the patrons and staff really only played the musical stylings of old crooners like John Denver and Johnny Cash. Occasionally, someone would play KISS or Led Zeppelin. Even if the other genres were more popular, Zeke was certain the CDs hadn't been updated since the mid 90s. Still, the man found himself wandering over to the machine, scrolling through the songs that were still imprinted into his mind. The faint clicking of the machine blended in with the noise of the restaurant and faintly, Zeke heard the bell above the door ring.

There were a lot of people at the Wagon Wheel today. The brunet was almost certain everyone who wasn't making sure the town was running was here. Ezekiel and Paul had a group of their friends with them, all enjoying some sort of ice cream or soda. Other cliques from their high school were around as well, all nodding or waving to Ezekiel whenever they made eye contact. The conversation among his friends was nothing special, but Zeke laughed at someone's joke before he stood, making his way over to the jukebox while digging quarters out of his pocket. The faint clicking of the song book moving as he scrolled through the selections joined the din of the cozy restaurant. Even with the noise, the distinct sound of the bell above the door caught Ezekiel's attention, causing him to glance over his shoulder. His turquoise eyes met pure hazel ones, belonging to a boy a little taller than him. His crew cut black hair stuck up a little over his forehead in an endearing way and a smirk crossed his face. He nodded at Zeke. The farm boy felt a blush rise to his cheeks, causing him to quickly look away, his stomach doing flips.

"Hey mister, are you going to pick a song?" Zeke shot out of his thoughts, looking around quickly. He could have sworn he heard the bell of the door, but no one had come in or left. "Mister?" Ezekiel looked down at a grade school child that had approached him, giving him a weird look.

"Uh, no, go ahead kid. All yours." he mumbled with a faint smile before making his way back to his table. The brunet held his head, closing his eyes. Briefly, the same, beautiful hazel eyes crossed his mind. He pulled at his long hair lightly, forcing the memory back down. He definitely didn't want to think about him right now.

"Alrighty, here we are! Hey, you okay?" a generic white dinner plate slid over the table towards Zeke, a plastic glass accompanying it as Paul took a seat across from him. The man looked up at his friend and smiled, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm great. Just tired. Been driving for a while." Zeke looked down at his plate and bit the inside of his lip. "Ugh, it's been so long since I've eaten something like this. Totally gonna mess me up later." Paul hummed and sipped on his own drink. The brunet picked up a fry and took a tentative bite, worried about how fresh they were. Thankfully, they weren't scorching hot, but he knew the frenchie would be. He continued eating the fries while he waited for the sandwich to cool.

"So, talk to me. I don't know anything." Paul pressed. Ezekiel looked up at him and took a drink from his soda.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Okay. Uhm." the former farm kid stuttered, fingers absently tapping the table. "Well, I guess, what do you want to know?" Paul bit his lip and examined his friend's face for a bit before speaking softly, as if he would spook the man.

"Well, when you left.. Jim said that something had happened at your graduation party." the brown-haired man glanced around and leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Something that outed you and -"

"Yeah, I know why I left, thanks." Zeke cut him off quickly, a slight edge to his voice. Paul leaned back, looking away from him. Ezekiel sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, I just - I don't want to think about that." the brunet cleared his throat and took another drink as Paul nodded softly. 

“Alright, then take me through that night. What did you do?” 

"Well.. Y’know, I packed my bag at like two in the morning. Just shoved a bunch of stuff into my old gym bag. Mostly essentials, figured I could get new clothes and stuff. Then, I went to the ATM and withdrew a good chunk of my money. I left enough to use as a credit line for the first week or so, but beyond that, I really planned on disappearing. I didn't want to risk my dad trying to trace my card or something." the brown-haired man frowned.

"Why would that have been so bad? Jim's never been the violent type. If he would track you, it would have been just to make sure you were safe." Zeke sighed and shook his head, fiddling with his last couple of fries.

"Honestly, I don't know. I was just.. emotional, I guess. I was thinking that I just wanted to drop off the face of the earth and not inconvenience anyone or have them worry." he knew that the words sounded as ridiculous as he felt about the whole situation. It was impossible to explain beyond blaming his overactive teen hormones for blowing everything out of proportion. Really, though, he had been nineteen and while his brain definitely wasn't fully developed, he still had enough sense to know that that wasn't the right way to handle the situation.

"So, where'd you go?" Zeke glanced up at Paul and finished off his fries, testing his sandwich.

"Big cities, mostly. First one was Omaha, but I really wanted to get out of Nebraska. When I called Jim, about a couple weeks or so after I left, just to let him know I was alive and surviving, y'know, I was down in Kansas City. After that, it was just wherever I felt like going whenever I felt like going." Ezekiel took a bite out of his cheese frenchie and closed his eyes, groaning at the taste of the deep fried bread, cheese, and mayonnaise perfectly combined. "Ugh, I forgot how good unhealthy food was." his friend smiled fondly, sitting back and crossing his legs.

"What made you change your diet? You used to inhale things like this." Zeke frowned and took another bite to give him time to think about his answer.

"I just.. wanted to look good." he shrugged, not looking at his friend. Paul examined him and his smile turned into a smirk.

"You must have gotten pretty busy." Ezekiel's cheeks immediately flushed and he hunched over his plate a little more, eating a little faster to keep him from having to answer. "Hey, I get it. The only man you ever really got to be with was-" Paul cut himself off with a warning glance from Zeke. "I don't blame you. If I was as sexually frustrated as you had to have been, I would have done it."

In reality, whether Ezekiel had been promiscuous or not wasn't the problem the brunet was facing in this conversation. Truthfully, road tripping around the continental United States wasn't cheap. While he had a few thousand in savings from his chores and jobs through high school, it started to dwindle pretty quickly. He was able to get a few under-the-table jobs at no-name diners waiting tables or washing dishes, but there wasn't a decent enough balance between the amount of work he put in and the money he got in return. So, while at a club one night, when a man approached Zeke and asked how much he charged, he rolled with it. From there, he got a newfound confidence, allowing him to work for an escort app and do some stripping on the side. He even managed to score a couple solid sugar daddies through his escort work, but he hated abusing their generosity just for his frivolous wants. Instead, he would hoard his 'allowances' into a savings account, one he had opened after leaving to avoid his paranoid thoughts of his dad tracking him. He was by no means rich, but he had a decent safety net if his return home didn't go as smoothly as he was hoping.

"Hello? Earth to Zee?" Paul huffed, snapping his fingers in the brunet's face. Ezekiel looked back at him.

"Sorry - what?"

"I said that I have to go, but I'm really not done talking to you yet. Maybe we could meet at the Breakdown tomorrow night? I would say tonight, but I imagine Jim and Diane will want to see you." Zeke felt his brow furrow.

"Why would Diane want to see me? She probably won't even know I'm back until tomorrow." Paul was silent. He stood and grabbed Zeke's empty plate and cup.

"Go home, Ezekiel. A lot has changed." the man said softly as he turned to make his way back to the kitchen. The brunet watched him go, frowning. Diane Abbott was a close family friend and, last he knew, the sole owner of the Wagon Wheel. She had never married or had her own family, instead focusing on her career and supporting Zeke at his events. Still, she had been his mother's childhood best friend. There would be no real reason for her to be so close to Jim that she would know Zeke was home by the end of the day.

Instead of thinking over it any longer, Ezekiel dug out his wallet and laid some cash on the table. He glanced around for a napkin to scribble his number on before noticing that Paul had already beat him to it, an order sheet with the other man's number on it sitting in the middle of the table. Briefly, he thanked whatever powers were at work for giving him such a thoughtful friend. It was already starting to feel more like home.

#if you recognize the title #no you dont #this is new era baybee #original fiction #fiction #lgbt fiction #lgbt original fiction #writing #my writing #i don't even know how else to tag this i'm horrible at marketting #anyway bye

[girlyandunruly]

2022: Hard time balancing work with a well-lived life.

I felt overwhelmed constantly with how much responsibility I have and still trying to maintain our house chores, errands, cooking, exercising, my hobbies, trips and social life. After pandemic period I wanted to get back to “normal” but seems I can’t go back to who I was. The amount of planning and coordination it takes to do anything has been getting to me. I made too many plans, I traveled almost every month of the year (by plane) and a few months multiple times. Normally this would be fun, but going from not traveling at all for a year, to doing so many trips, it messed with the routine I had established. At the beginning of 2022 I had felt that so much time was wasted during the 2-year pandemic that I needed to catch up, but I over did it. So, for 2023 I’ll focus on not doing too much, only the necessary. I already said “No” to a friend inviting me to Arizona in March. That’s a start!

Though overwhelmed with preparations and airport madness, the moment I’m at my destination I forget all about the treacherous journey and have the best time. Memories that stay with me forever, even the bad ones are good lessons learned and make me laugh now. Travel recap:

JANUARY:

Spent a week in Vail working and snowboarding with Kevin.

FEBRUARY:

Kevin took me to Mexico (Holbox and Playa del Carmen) for my 37th birthday.

MARCH:

Birmingham, MI for Luka’s baby shower that my mom and I hosted.

APRIL:

I traveled to Fort Worth, TX to attend a conference where Barr Engineering was one of the sponsors and I attended as the only representative.

JUNE:

Poland road trip with my mom. Drove over 700 miles between Warsaw, Krakow, Auschwitz, Wroclaw, Poznan and Gdansk. Every town was adorable and Auschwitz was heartbreaking but a must see.

JULY:

Taos and Santa Fe, NM for 4th of July. 

Birmingham, MI for Demi’s 3rd birthday and meeting new nephew Luka.

AUGUST:

Portugal road trip for our 4 year wedding anniversary.

SEPTEMBER:

Rock climb with Mary at Redmond, OR.

OCTOBER:

Minneapolis, MN for work training where I did an ESG presentation.

Cabo, Mexico for Pearl and Owen’s wedding.

Scottsdale, AZ for Elizabeth and Jeff’s wedding.

NOVEMBER:

Nashville, TN for a conference where I was the only Barr Engineering representative.

Flagstaff, AZ for Thanksgiving with Kevin’s family: his dad, Justin and (very pregnant) Vanessa.

DECEMBER:

Houston for Christmas with the family. We had a flight back to Denver scheduled for Dec 26 on Southwest but after a winter storm a few days prior to the date, SW cancelled almost all of their flights. It was chaos, we couldn’t find a flight back on any airline until 3 days later so we decided last minute to rent a pickup truck and drive 15 hours from Houston to Denver. And so glad we did because SW kept cancelling flights days later and our luggage would probably be lost.

The times I wasn’t traveling but stayed in Denver were memorable:

   1. Danny Elfman’s music from the films of Tim Burton

   2. Marijuana Mansion tour for my birthday.

   3. Denver Derby was back, and I created a gnome themed hat!

   4. Hosted adorable girls tea party at Babe’s Tea Room.

   5. Had 90s nostalgia with Kate at the F.R.I.E.N.D.S set

   6. I hosted Elizabeth’s bachelorette celebration

   7. Best of all, our annoying neighbors got two adorable kittens this year and they started hanging out in our front yard a lot. They would come visit us every day that we started buying cat toys, catnip and snacks. After a few months, the cats now hangout inside the house and we consider ourselves co-owners.

We finished big renovations in the house:

The back parlor was completely renovated (floors, roof, ceilings, electrical, walls).

Front porch concrete and posts redone.

New front door.

The outside of the house repainted.

I think we are finally done with house upgrades. 2023 will be the first year of just regular maintenance and no more weekends of long hours at Home Depot.

Baby news!

My brother and Tracey had their healthy baby boy Luka on May 19, 2022.

Kevin’s brother Justin and Vanessa got pregnant with a boy, due in February 2023.

Last but not least WORLD CUP MADNESS. It was a bit strange to have World Cup games in November/December but it brought a lot of fun exciting times even though Netherlands ended up losing against Argentina. The dutch boys fought to the end, 2-2, going to penalty kicks -where they never win on penalties UGH the curse-  but the game was rated top 3 most exciting games of the WC. Watched probably 80% of all games, I even took days off from work to just watch games all day, can’t wait for Euro Cup! #futbolislife

We ended the New Years celebrating with Elizabeth and Jeff. And after-party with Dylan and Holly. Too much fun. Grateful for these friendships <3

Our 2022 Adventures recap video:

[chqnified]

Vent

Tw/ sa & stlking

Second vent of the month. I'm on absolute fire getting triggered atm.

Starting right from the beginning. A friend who I'll call R, has been my friend since day one at college. We met on induction day and pretty much got on ever since. He told me about a guy that I'll call T, that he was a creep, the things he had done to R's friend/girlfriend, the stuff he used to do in secondary school. R would always take me out of whatever area he saw T in, to keep me safe. He said that T had a record of trying to guilt trip people into being friends with him and make people pity him, as if he was a victim. However, never had i met T nor did i know his name, i didn't know what he looked like. I had no way of truly knowing if i ever had met or was going to meet him.

Fast forward to a day where i was sat in a learning zone with friends, T comes up to our table, despite not knowing any of us. He start conversation, asking if anyone took biology. He said that he had lost all of his documents for this weeks homework. Taking biology myself, i had my homework sheets, i felt bad for him, i know the feeling of loosing all your work. So he asked me for my Instagram, so i could send him over the pictures of the work. I gave him my @ . We talked.

He seemed nice, maybe a bit unusual in terms of behaviour, but who was i to judge? Me, with mental health issues of my own. Maybe he was just a bit anxious, even if he claimed he was the most out going friendly person ever (that should've been a red flag if anything but alas).

We bump into one another in the canteen, he asks me if i wanted to go to the co-op, about 10-15mins walk from college. I agreed to. It was the end of the lesson day and i wasn't going to be picked up for about an hour. As we walk, he tells me about R, how R hates him, i ask why, he says that once he invited R's girlfriend round and she made advances of him, they kissed and stuff. He said he didn't know that it was R's girlfriend until R confronted him. It didn't add up. Especially, when at that point, I figure this was who R had been talking about. R had said that he invited a girl round his place and sa her, then went through her underwear drawer whilst she was having a panic attack. That was why R fought T. R's story in my mind, was far more credible. T had been leaving parts of his story side out, i could tell by the look of horror when I'd asked him why they fought, the look of panic when he had to come up with the reason. It stank of a lie.

We bought cakes from the co-op, went to sit on the park bench opposite the shop. Considering we weren't very familiar, he sat too close to me on the bench. How is one meant to have a conversation with another when you're both touching leg to leg. It was that close. We talked again, a bit awkward being that close in proximity, if that makes sense, you can't really turn your face to look at someone or whatever. Out of the blue, he asks for a hug, i let him, at this point i begin to feel uncomfortable. The timing was not really appropriate? You don't hug someone after you've finished eating? I don't know.

Mum calls to say dad is 20mins away, that he'll pick me up from X road. I'd only been to X road once, so i wasn't overly familiar with it. College from mine is around an hour, so places around there are not familiar to me. He tells me his house is 5 mins from there, we should go to his for a bit, meet his turtle and dog. I asked him where he lived, he said on the right from college. I was sure road X was left from college, i told him this. He got out a map and started pointing to places, again telling me he lived 3 roads away from it. I, being unsure and not wanting to be late, said i would another day. He started to get defensive, asking again, i decline and he asks again. He attempts all he can to persuade him. Eventually i give in. How bad can it be? He must know.

We walk towards his place, 10mins later, we still aren't there, i say I'd like to go back, it was too far, I'd come another day. He refuses. So we carry on. About 15mins later, we arrive at his place, i feed the turtle, pat the dog. He tries to invite me up to his bedroom, but i refused. Luckily i did. Dad rings up to say he was waiting for me. So i say to T, i had to leave. Despite his attempts at getting me to stay, i leave. Dad's lectures are bad, and i didn't want one of those. T says he knows a short cut back, i follow. He takes me up paths, to a golf club, past there and all around the houses. It felt like I'd spent more time this route than the other, i tell him that, he claims "we can always go back", what 20mins on? Dad calls again, asks where the fuck i am, i say around 5, i was sorry. I repeat to T that we had to hurry, i was going to be in trouble, the extent it would be, he tells me 'it won't be that bad' 'it'll be fine' 'don't be so dramatic' repeatedly. He lets slip that he had in fact, never used this short cut before, as he lead me into a foresty patch. He 'turns his ankle' and falls over, asking for my hand, asking for me to help him. The look on his face did not look like one who had been injured. It was a smirk. I ran. As fast as i could. He ran after me, surprising for someone who had sprained their ankle. He yelled after me that i was cold hearted, how could i not help him being in so much pain. I ignored him and continued. I must've ran for about 7mins, him still at my tail. I recognised that the field was now the one on the college grounds. Dad rang again, told me he was sick of waiting, i was stupid and he'd pick me up from the college doors, if i wasn't there in 5 he'd leave. T catches up with me as i stop and am now outside the college. He tells me he had fun and hugs me without consent, holds me for a little too long, a little too tight... And most of all, context being weird, why hug someone after that? As soon as my dad turns up, he leaves quickly. Probably scared of the tradesman in a "suspicious" looking 13 year old blacked out windows, black van.

Safe to say. My dad wasn't happy. But he seemed a bit worried as to what happened, i said it was an accident and didn't know he lived that far away.

The day after T comes up to me... After i see him skateboarding, and tries to guilt trip me, how hurt his ankle was etc etc. I said i had to go, my mum was calling me, i was already stressed with a teacher marking me absent for 70% of lessons when i wasn't. I told him it was a private phone call, to leave me alone. When i pick up, he comes back, he stands and listens to everything, smiling at me like some creep. He attempts to hold my hand when i get off the phone call, I don't take his hand though. He makes me go up to collect his books from floor 1 with him, so i do, not knowing how to reject successfully. As he goes to sit down at the table with his roadmen gang and as soon as i notice that his back is turned, i quickly slip away. Later that day i receive texts, not just one or 2 either. ‘Where did you go?’ and when i didn’t reply he sent ‘?’ and continued. i just eventually replied with ‘wdym’, claiming ignorance.

I was shaken. As time moved on, i convinced myself i was being dramatic, i hadn't seen the smirk right?

I spoke to another friend of mine, M, about it, he asked who i was talking about. So i told him. He showed me messages one of his friends had received from T, after she’d posted an instagram story of her outfit. He’d replied along the lines of ‘you’re hot’ she had replied to him she was uncomfortable and she had a boyfriend. He continued, the typical ‘where is your boyfriend because i don’t see him’ comment was made, he asked to date her, said he couldn’t care less about her boyfriend. I saw the texts from the boyfriend that got involved and confronted him. He said it was all ‘just a joke calm down’. There were more incidences like this, more and more people i brought him up to, the more accounts were told. I wasn’t the only one. He would follow me in the corridors, interrupt conversations when i was talking with friends. For someone who i had barely spoken to, the ‘familiarity’ he was trying to portray was too weird. As time went on, i hung out with people in the art learning zone, that was where my group of friends hung out amongst other groups, i came to learn that he was notorious for being a creep, i had just never know. I suppose i hadn’t known anyone before college, i hadn’t gone to the same schools as everyone else.

I make a rule. I wasn’t going to acknowledge or talk to him, i would avoid him at all cost. I would avoid places i knew he would be in... namely the chemistry zone. Bit of a pain because that had been my corner. 

Whilst i was waiting for class, he passed me, tried to start a conversation again. Echo, who was fronting at the time, had no idea who he was, we’d split a lot around that time, lots of things had been going on. He told T that he didn’t know who he was, T got angry, asked how we didn’t know him, receipted what had happened that day where ‘we got lost’. Echo told him we had amnesia. Not entirely wrong. we do. DID does that. But at that point something had clicked and we recognised him, we weren’t going to say that though, we were scared. He leaves when we go in to the classroom. Later when i leave college, i see him waiting by the college entrance. I run through the doors in hope he wouldn’t either see me or couldn’t catch me and i ran to X road where i was being picked up. 

He calls me, twice, at 10pm. I ignore. He sends more texts, i restrict him. Meaning i could see his messages, but he would never see that i saw them. He had also at that point been removed from following us, but you know, the follow request has been declined at least 6 times up to now. I report him. I go in with a friend called C, who i had told the accounts to, she offers to go in to support me. I agree to let her, i was anxious, i didn’t think i could go in alone. I tell my student tutor (the teacher you’re meant to report things to) and she notes it all down, C tells accounts she has heard from other victims, telling N (student tutor) that i wasn’t alone in this. She also tells N that even when i was with her, T would follow us both, mainly to follow me. N says she will see about reporting him. However, nothing ever happened. No matter how much information i gave and offered to give.  I continue avoiding T like my life depends on it, my friends understood and mad excuses for us to be able to leave his presence. It was appreciated, M and R in particular always made special efforts to do so.  a few weeks pass? He adds me to a group chat. His birthday group chat, full of roadmen and his brother (and assuming older brother friends). Bearing in mind, his brother is in his 20s, starts talking about 16 year old girls along with T, how they are going to get laid on T’s birthday. How they’re going to get them drunk and stuff. Drugs were there, it was said, as long as it didn’t smell (which isn’t very logical, as far as i know most of THOSE sorts of drugs smell). I left the chat in my restricted messages, i wanted to know what was going on without anyone in the chat knowing I had read the messages. I didn’t go to the party. I’d have been dumb to after having seen the gc. 

 I’m in walking up the path, across the carpark that leads to one of the college doors. T sees me. He is around 10 metres? away from me. Close enough to recognise someone, far too far to catch up with them without looking weird and stuff. He yells after me, repeating my name. I ignore and walk on. He runs after me whilst yelling my name so i too start running. When he catches up he asks me what was wrong, why i was being weird. Why was i mad at him. Xera triggered glares at him and lists off exactly why, only referring to the disgusting attitude he had, how he treated girls, how that was unacceptable etc etc. How we knew he had sa girls. He apologised profusely, again and again, he claimed he knew he ‘fucked up’ but he’d ‘change’. Xera told him he could apologise all he wanted, but he wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and that it was no use saying sorry after the event.  T left us alone after that, he seemed to leave everyone alone for some time. last week of college he tried to slip back into contact when he saw us talking with friend S in the chemistry zone. He said he had failed chemistry and biology so was being kicked off the courses (great news as i was fearing we’d end up in the same class this coming school year). We didn’t engage with him whatsoever. silence.

We didn’t see him after that. Everything went silent for 5 months. That was until today. He asked to follow us once again. Asked to have M’s instagram @ ... just because they ‘sat next to each other in history class’ when Erin asked if they ‘were friends or smthn’. Erin gave a fake @ , turned one of our old accounts into a believable regular account. M wouldn’t have wanted his contacts to be given to T, he hated T as much as everyone else. M was informed by the way, he saw every single message we sent T. Erin tried to gaslight T into thinking that us and him had never ever met etc, forgot old messages were still there, so he called our bluff. T started to turn, getting more and more aggressive each message he sent, then claimed we had a crush on him and we were just mad that he ‘got a gf’. Erin told him he was delulu for thinking we would like a stalker and creep (great advice from friend A). It has ended so far with us telling him if he doesn’t leave us alone, there will be consequences. Your most cliché threat ever, but alas. There’s more than that. His roadmen associates. They are who scare me the most. T isn’t the most intimidating of people, despite being like 6ft, but the guys he hangs around are horrible. and i’ve had bad encounters twice with 1 particular one. Not something i particularly want to talk about though. It scares me, what if something did happen? It’s not something i want to trust my college with again, not with how they dealt with it the first time. And what if it gets more serious, police could get involved at this point. I can’t go through that?? But at the same time, what am i supposed to do? Go into college fearing that i might get st*bbed or r*ped?? If i’d been taken out of college when i wanted to last year, none of this would’ve happened. But again, same story of people not listening to me.

#personal #vent #system tag #pretty much the most of the account that we've pieced together so far #the thing is the more we think about it the more memories are coming back and the more sick the whole situation seems #and it's really getting triggering. like i shouldn't know some of this. but now i do. we all are having to know stuff that we shouldn't #idk anymore

[clouds-rambles]

hey bestie i was hoping to request xiao, venti, childe and zhongli where the the reader and the character have just had an argument + the reader needs time to calm down from the argument. omg maybe the reader comes back with a gift to apologise

Ask and ye shall receive <3. I’m the kind of person who needs time to relax and process the situation after an argument. I’m always too worked up (read angry) to kiss and make up straight after an argument.

Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Venti, Childe, Zhongli x reader

Warning(s); breif mention of a wound, alcoholism, swearing

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You’re probably being too harsh on the guy

You had just come back from a tough mission with a few more scrapes than you normally come back, a nasty cut in particular situated on your shoulder was what caused the argument to kick off in the first place

In hindsight the argument started from Xiao’s concern of you getting hurt worse but you were too tired from the commission to really read it as concern

But boy now do you feel bad. You both went your separate ways for the evening and in the morning you still haven’t caught sight of your partner. You eventually go around Wangshu Inn and ask if they’ve seen Xiao.

You get told that he’s out for the day, apparently he caught wind of something manifesting in the mountains. So, you suppose that it’s high time to make an apology gift

And what’s a better apology gift than your partners favourite food? Because your arguments are often few and far between you don’t mind making Xiao almond tofu since it’s not something you’ve associated with apologising

Though you’re aware that the sweet snack means nothing if you’re not sincere with your apology. 

So what’s more sincere than sitting at the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wait for Xiao. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to come back just as long as you get to apologise

He comes back just after dusk and you pour your apologise profusely and tell him you understand that he was coming from a place of concern

Xiao is a little distant a short while after the apology but soon you’re reassured that he accepts it when he places his hand on the table for you to take hold of

The two of you sit in silence sat hand in hand while Xiao eats his tofu

You watch him eat with a grin on your face, sometimes just watching the Yaksha sit still and do his thing is enough to keep you in a trance for the evening

-

Venti

Maybe you got into an argument because you’re concerned over Venti’s drinking habits, sure he’s an immortal god but doesn’t he worry about his liver?

Sure the argument started because you’re worried about the archon but boy does he make you angry with his non-sensical thought processes

Venti is the kind of guy who wouldn’t let you leave without settling the argument

Even if the happy medium isn’t actually going to bring any change into the questionable drinking habits

But this argument just feels a little different, you’ve had the same conversation form months but nothing seems to change

You’re not even sure if Venti has actually listened to anything you have said to him about it

So you tell him “Do what you want, but you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight” yeah you just resigned him to sofa treatment. As much as you hate it you’re far too heated to just kiss and make up right now

So the night passes and you wake up with the cold space beside you, you’re confused until you remember the previous nights events

Though your unusual silence in the room doesn’t last long, you presume Venti sensed that you’re awake because you hear a knock at your bedroom door, you’re surprised that Venti is actually here and that he hadn’t sulked off to Windrise where you had originally planned to apologise to him

As you open the door you notice your partner stood before you with a bunch of hand picked cecelia's and dandelions and an apologetic look on his face

You’ve never known Venti to speak so fast he apologises profusely for causing you such worry and promises that he’ll try to drink less, he mentions that he doesn’t wish to give up his Friday and Saturday drinking nights but he’s willing to tone it down during the week if it stops you worrying 

You thank him sincerely and find a vase to put the flowers in

You hug Venti and apologise yourself for being such a worry wart and causing such a big argument

“I’m glad I have someone to worry about me, I don’t know what I’d do without you” You can’t help but swoon at his flowery words and grin at him before the two of you start off the day

-

Childe

It’s a bad habit he has, when you try and talk about something serious with him he constantly cracks jokes at the situation. Which in its self isn’t the worse thing in the world, even you crack jokes to lighten the situation but at some points it goes too far

And today is too far, what started off as a disagreement about where you were going to eat lunch ended up in a full scale (mostly one sided) argument in Childes office about how he can’t take things seriously

You, of course, know this to be false. You’ve seen him in action against his foes and bank business but just in this moment when you are so angry about the situation those rational thoughts go out the window

And what does the bastard do? He cracks another fucking joke

“Is this what I am?” you ask finally reaching the catalyst of your temper “A fucking joke?” 

And boy does the exclamation comes to a surprise to him. No matter how frequent your use of curse words you’ve never directed them at him so it catches Childe by even more surprise

“[name] I’m sorry I didn’-” he tries to apologise

“You didn’t fucking what Tartaglia? Want to make me feel like a joke? Cause you’ve been going down that road at every fucking disagreement we have” you cut him off in a fit of rage “Sleep in your own fucking bed tonight” you add before storming out his office

He tried to follow you out the bank before he was stopped by a fatui agent about some urgent debt collection, so he never got to apologise immediately

And that’s how the next couple of days go, you’ve taken most of the time to cool off and avoid anywhere Childe might be hanging about, your plan works better considering said harbinger was out of Liyue Harbour for a couple of days

Though on the third night Childe appears at your door, he doesn’t bring any gifts, just himself. Childe enjoys gifting things to you so he doesn’t want you or him to associate gift giving with apologies. You’re more than thankful for this

Childe apologises before you even have the chance to invite him in and takes your hand and wholeheartedly promises to try and not make jokes when you have a disagreement

You also apologise and agree that, in hindsight, you blew things out of proportion. You reassure him that he’s a hardworking man and that a few out of place jests make everything more bearable to him.

You invite him inside for some tea, your bed isn’t as cold as it was tonight

-

Zhongli

Disagreements with Zhongli never seem to get any further than that. The archon likes to listen to you vent your frustrations over a cup of herbal tea and usually that calms you down and everything is settled before supper

But every once in a while you’re a little high strung. For instance this time you’re running on a total of 5 hours sleep over the last 4 days. Sleep deprivation could possibly be your middle name at this point 

The only thing you want to do when you get back from your restless trip from Mondstat back home is to just sleep the next few years 

But the sweetie that Zhongli is he quizzes you about your great to horrific trip

Zhongli pulls all the stops he readys some dinner for you and draws a bath when you get back. He even gives you a small lecture about how you’ll feel terrible not washing before going to bed

But with your tired ears, eyes and brain it feels like a personal attack in your entire self “I’ve had it up to here with bloody hillichurls for 4 horrific days, all I want to do is pass the living hell out thank you”

Replace the bloodys with fucks and that’s probably more accurate to what you said

Zhongli is taken a little aback, being an older traditional man it’s unbecoming of anyone to use such sailor language. And thus the male lectures you about it

You take that as about as well as you expect, you don’t respond to him and favour walking out the room, barely getting undressed and collapsing on your shared bed

You wake up the next morning (though when you peek outside it seems like it’s after noon) disorientated. You don’t actually remember coming home the previous day 

Then the memory resurfaces of you yelling at your spouse and regret washes over you

Surely the gift you had prepared for Zhongli would be good enough as repercussions of yesterdays outburst

You see Zhongli in the dining room, to the untrained eye he looks like he’s in a normal mood but to you, you can see his brooding emanating off of him. If you dare point it out Zhongli will deny that he even broods in the first place

He’s the first to greet you without turning around. Rightfully so, he’s still in a mood. So you just profusely apologise for your outburst

You explain that you were running on next to no sleep and while that doesn’t excuse your outburst it certainly explains it. If your spouse so wishes to ask how your trip was you would comply much more now since you’ve had a good sleep behind you. 

You then change the subject to the gift in your hands, some rose tea. Something Zhongli had mentioned when you were courting all that time ago. 

The man sits you on his lap and explains to you about how it was out of place of him to assume you’d be in a talking mood immediately after your travels. You reassure him that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind talking about it, you promise that you will do everything in your power to not let the previous night repeat

You then bring out his gift, rose tea, which he had mentioned wanting to taste a little while back, and before long you’re back in the cycle of Zhongli profusely explaining to you some random subject (in this instance rose tea) before you go off to make dinner where you finally share the details of your travels

Hope this is okay! <3 I kind of went a little ham with the Childe and Zhongli one in comparison to the other two hope you don’t mind lmao <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #reader insert #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin xiao #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #genshin venti #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin childe #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 2 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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As it turned out, 'secluded cabin' was a pretty accurate statement.

Hawks had arranged for a very discreet hero taxi service to drive you the 5-hour trip from Musutafu to a quaint mountainous village that was so small and quiet, you almost doubted it was even on the map.

Past the snowy village, through the winding roads and towering trees, over a bridge, past a frozen lake, and then some miles off the main road, tucked away in a small clearing, was a beautiful cabin.

While the days were steadily growing warmer as spring rapidly approached, it still snowed at night. The snow had melted off the trees from the warmth of the midday sun; but, there was still a light blanket of white on the rooftop and across the surrounding grounds.

There were no poles lining the street, nothing that could bring electricity to the house; however, you could see what was likely a generator tucked away in the back. Someone had propped the cover off and cleaned out the snow.

At that sight, it became obvious that Hawks had beat you here. He already taken to clearing the snow out of the entry way as well, exposing a beautiful cobblestone pathway.

You exited the vehicle and retrieved your bags from the trunk. The very second you closed the hatch, the driver made a speedy exit, wheels skidding in the snow as they backed out before doing a sharp U-turn and barreling down the road.

Luckily, the entrance to the cabin opened before you could worry that you had just been abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Sure enough, Hawks stepped out, wild blonde locks brushed back, a little fluffier than usual due to the change in humidity.

Despite how cold it was, he was wearing a black tank top and loose, light grey sweat pants. He even stepped out onto the cold stone pathway with bare feet. Yet, with a light flush to his skin, he didn't look cold at all.

You had been making a face when he approached, and he offered an explanation, uttering, "I told 'em not to linger. It's suspicious."

Some large plumes departed his wingspan and grabbed at your luggage, one even pulling your shoulder bag off your back. They whipped away, bags in tow, and zipped past Hawks and through the doorway, disappearing into the cabin.

The winged hero didn't immediately usher you inside, as he usually did in these types of situations, but arched over you suddenly, arms bringing you into a tight embrace while his lips captured yours.

The sudden closeness forced your back to arch. Unconsciously, your hands fell onto his barely clothed shoulders, and you felt how warm he was. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he was running a fever.

The kiss was brief, but uncharacteristically messy, not that you were complaining. It was a kiss of longing, like he had missed you dearly, as if it had been months and not a day and a half.

He pulled back, a distant, albeit blissful, look on his face. His eyelids sagged as if he was tired, but the gold of his iris was bright and his pupils were focused.

"I didn't get to clean yet, but - ugh - do you wanna see inside?" he asked, some slight nervousness to his tone.

"Yeah," you breathed.

Hawks stepped aside and you gently brushed past him and stepped inside. The wood floors creaked softly beneath your feet as you crossed the threshold. Immediately, you were hit with a wonderful scent, earthy, like tree bark, but sweet, like raw honey.

It was a decent sized cabin, spacious and not heavily furnished. The kitchen was on the small side, but seemingly to accommodate a larger living room.

As Hawks had warned, there was a thin layer of dust all across the wood floors. The furniture was covered by clear tarps, shielding them from the debris.

The dining area tucked away in the corner had a chabudai in place of a western style table. It was small and clearly only intended for two people. You had a feeling it was new, considering how spotless it looked compared to the rest of the cabin.

A huge, stone fireplace rested against the north wall, surrounded by large windows that gave a beautiful view of the outside. They were adorned with heavy curtains, pulled back to let the sunlight in.

Hawks was lingering, following close, staring down at you as you walked around and took in the sight of the place. When your eyes landed on him, and you caught his unblinking stare, you realized he was awaiting feedback.

It startled you a little, for Hawks wasn't the kind to fuss over these sorts of things; but, you had a decent enough understanding of what a rut was to know what was going through his head.

"Relax, birdbrain," you cooed, reaching up to tap gently at his cheek with a closed palm. That seemed to knock him out of his stupor, for he blinked and suddenly looked sheepish. He flickered his gold eyes away, as if to give you space.

"I love it," you praised, looking back into the living area. "Cozy, and smells nice."

You heard him exhale a relieved sigh through his nostrils.

"We should get to work. Where's the cleaning stuff?" you asked, peeling your jacket off.

"Oh. I'll-" he began.

"You'll let me help," you interrupted him gently.

When you turned back to face him, and saw the bewildered expression he was wearing, you wondered if maybe that wasn't the right thing to fit with his current state.

"Unless that's... bad?" you offered uncertainly, shoulders sagging.

Hawks laughed suddenly at the sunken expression on your face, as if the joyous sound came sputtering out against his will.

"No," he answered softly, leaning in suddenly for another kiss, as if he couldn't help it. You didn't get a chance to kiss back before he was retreating.

"Don't change," he sighed. "I want you as you, not as my..."

"-subservient housewife?" you offered, just a little teasing.

He chuckled softly, breathing out a harsh, "fuck, no."

Hawks maneuvered around you and headed for what you guessed was a supply closet. Inside, the cleaning gear was also neatly packaged in containers and safe from dust.

It made sense, how neatly arranged everything was. Hawks was a fairly neat person; but, it was also clear that he had this whole thing down, neatly tuned and properly sorted out. He had been coming here for years, after all.

This place was special to him. That much was clear.

The two of you started to dusting and sweeping, followed by a diligent mopping, with the two of you working in tandem.

Hawks was fairly quiet during the whole ordeal, seemingly focused sternly on the task at hand. It had been his nest for years. This was hardly anything new; but, it was now going to be yours, too.

He didn't tell you that he had been worried he would react negatively to your presence. He didn't always react rationally during this time. Seemingly average things would sometimes irritate him, and a part of the possessive onslaught included this abode.

Fortunately, that hadn't been the case. Cleaning the cabin with you was soothing. He wasn't unaware of the obvious implication: that you were preparing a nest together, your shared nest. He didn't say it aloud, but you had come to that realization, as well.

It had actually calmed him quite a bit. He had been on edge before you arrived, skin prickled with heat and sweating unreasonably considering the cold. Those weren't abnormal during his ruts; but, it felt intensified with that knowledge that you were going to be here.

Darkness swept across the forest as the hours dragged on. Luckily, you were just about finished by the time it got dark.

There was a neat stack of firewood arranged on a carrier near the fireplace, making you wonder if that was what he had worked on before your arrival. The logs looked freshly cut and heavy.

Crimson feathers delivered logs to the hearth. Hawks retrieved a set of matches from a cubby near the carrier and then kneeled before the hearth. He set one of the matches ablaze and carefully ignited the firewood arranged in the pit.

Warmth and light flooded the cabinet. Plumes gathered along the edges of the curtains and pulled them back, covering the windows. When they returned to his wingspan, he stepped back and monitored the fire briefly.

While cleaning, you had learned there was a cellar and partial second story, as well as an indoor bathroom. It seemed that the main use of the generator was to power the water heater and indoor plumbing.

The cellar was small, down a short flight of stairs, with concrete floors and walls, the perfect size for containing a month's worth of food and supplies, far more than was necessary for just a week.

The second story was a loft that oversaw the living room, giving a great view of the fireplace. There was no safety railing on the upstairs, likely for the very obvious fact that Hawks could fly. There was, at least, a staircase.

Upstairs, there was a large bed frame with a plush mattress, wrapped up tight to protect from dust, a large chest pressed up against the wall, and a desk without a chair.

After he removed the bed cover, you watched Hawks pull neatly folded blankets and pillow cases out the chest. It was fascinating to see someone, who normally slept wherever his body landed, so meticulously prepare the bedding: layers and layers of blankets, followed by dressing the pillows and laying them out.

It was especially perplexing because of the intense, concentrated look on his face. He had been so focused that he hadn't even realized that you had paused what you were doing to watch him.

Luckily, you caught yourself staring before he did, and shuffled back downstairs before he could notice.

A sudden howling had startled you, before a sharp wind rattled against the shutters. Something was thumping gently against the roof and when the wind picked up, you could almost hear the trees shuddering outside.

"It's snowing," Hawks observed, suddenly at your side.

You could see a glimpse of crimson in the corner of your eye, and realized he had a wing fanned out around you, not quite close enough to touch, but hovering. Maybe, he hadn't even realized he was doing that.

"Oh," you answered quietly.

Together, you prepared dinner, settling for a classic favorite of his: yakitori chicken and stir fry noodles.

Eating dinner together, and talking about nothing, made you realize, it had been the first time in a long time, if ever, that you hadn't discussed work: nothing about the agency, nothing about heroes or villains, nothing about police business or missions.

It was just senseless conversations that amounted to nothing.

The dining table was small and the floor was cold; but, your hands brushed constantly due to the lack of space. It made you realize that you had longed to have this type of moment with him, something so utterly domestic.

"I know it's not super late," Hawks began, on his way to the kitchen with the dirty plates. "But, I'm gonna wake you up early; so, let's get to bed, okay?"

His voice was soft, surprisingly drowsy, you realized, and he continued, "it's - well, there's something I wanna show you, and it looks best in the sunrise."

He had started the dishes before you could; so, you stepped in close, deciding to tease him a little.

"I bet you do look best in the sunrise," you uttered, leaning against the counter top near the sink, where he had busied his hands. He was looking away from you; but, you could see his lip twitch into a faint smile.

Hawks laughed, a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest. "Not me," he replied softly. Yet, he found himself feeling enamored with the knowledge that that was where your mind had wandered first.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" you offered, standing upright and shifting away from the counter.

"Nah," he replied simply. "I'll join ya' in a bit."

You changed into your pajamas, brushed your teeth and pulled your hair back, before heading upstairs. Blankets and pillows were stacked high on top of the mattress, making the bedframe disappear beneath it.

It not only looked incredibly warm, but incredibly soft, and an inspection with your hand, smoothing over the surface, confirmed that. There were several pillows pressed against the headboard and even more at the foot of the bed.

If you hadn't seen him arrange it, you would have doubted it was even Hawks' bed. From the glimpses you had seen into his life, he was a minimalist.

His office at the agency was fairly large, but looked almost comical with the lack of furniture in it. He wasn't one to buy much of anything outside of perishables.

"Take those off."

You had heard that commanding tone many times before; but, in the peace and serenity of this cabin, it startled you. Your shoulders twitched a little and you turned to face him, having not heard Hawks approach.

His gold eyes were glaring at your body, shifting up to meet your gaze when you turned to face him.

You gawked back at him, dumbfounded by his boldness, and a little intrigued, if you were being honest. He had warned you about this, and you were about to comply when his dark expression suddenly softened.

"Oh fuck," Hawks blurted, embarrassment washing over his face. The intensity of the moment dissipated and you found yourself unable to hold back a faint smile at the way his face so rapidly changed from anger to shame.

"Shit - I - sorry - ugh," he stammered, some redness tinting the tops of his ears. His dominant hand came up and ruffled his hair. "That was messed up. Ah - what I mean is, can we sleep naked?"

It was clear he wasn't embarrassed about the request, but the way that he had asked. You couldn't hold back a soft chuckle at his frazzled state.

"Of course," you uttered, and began shedding your clothes.

He was staring at your nudity as if it wasn't something he had seen many times before, as if his hands and mouth hadn't explored every inch of skin, hadn't touched and claimed parts of you your own hands couldn't reach.

It made you feel powerful, beautiful.

"Did you brush your teeth?" you asked, knocking him out of his stupor.

He didn't respond, but made a face that gave you your answer. He turned away then, and hopped over the edge of the loft, floating down into the lower floor, and scurried off to the bathroom.

Promptly, you disappeared beneath the blankets, shivering from the cold, skin prickled with goosebumps. You were about to scold yourself for complying with him so eagerly, without demanding a compromise, mainly that you expected him to warm you up.

Luckily, it didn't take him long to join you, and you suddenly felt a very warm, and very naked, body slot into the space behind you, wiggling beneath the blankets. It was almost concerning how warm he was, like he had just flung himself into the hearth before running back over here.

You rolled onto your back to greet him and Hawks wasted no time slotting over you, tangling legs, arms falling on either side of your head. Wispy bangs fell over his forehead, longer strands catching on his eyebrows.

Your eyes peered over his shoulders, where you could see his wings were fanned out above him, plumes stretched wide, looming possessively. When your gaze shifted to his face, your breath hitched.

His stare was hypnotizing, as if he couldn't believe you were here, gold eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit loft.

It made you sad to think just your presence alone had pleased him so much, whereas nothing else had yet to occur. It made you think of all the years he had to endure this alone, the loneliness far more straining than the lack of a pliant body.

"Hey," he began, voice hoarse, distant.

His dominant hand shifted from the bed to cup your cheek, thumb gently prodding at your cheek bone. Just like the rest of his body, his hand was so warm.

"I know I said I wouldn't let you leave," he explained, fingers sliding carefully across your temple. "But, if you want to, at any time, I'll call the taxi and-"

You leaned up, taking his lips in a gentle kiss to silence him. He moaned into the kiss, clearly surprised by your interruption. His hand departed your face, lowering to caress the side of your neck.

When you pulled back, he chased, not letting you depart from him quite so quickly. The kiss carried on for a short while, Hawks only leaning back when he was satisfied.

"No," you disagreed in a soft hum, hands rising to push strands of his hair out of his face. "I'm not leaving. We're going through this together. Okay?"

He let out a sigh that fluttered across your cheeks. "Okay," he agreed, as if he couldn't believe it.

Hawks shifted until he was lying beside you, one arm loose around your waist. You turned a little to lay on your side and lean into him, cheek falling comfortably into the pillow beneath your head, and felt him nuzzle into your back, bringing you as close as he could without ruining your comfort.

One of his wings folded carefully over you while the other sprawled out across the bed. The light from the fire just barely reached the loft, an amber glow that flickered with the dancing flames.

The sounds of the gentle snowfall outside was a little louder upstairs. One of the nearby windows rattled softly, trembling weakly from the breeze that shook the shutters. The rafters above creaked occasionally in melodic hums.

Behind you, Hawks' chest undulated with his breathing, moving against the skin of your back. His wings shifted ever so slightly in harmony with the expansion and shrinking of his lungs. The longer plumes on the ends twitched occasionally.

"Keigo?" you whispered.

He didn't answer. Judging by the way his arm had slackened where it rested over your waist, you figured he had fallen asleep already.

The bedding was soft, and you had no doubt that he had washed them diligently; yet, mingled with the earthy tones of the cabin, they smelt like him. The hearth crackled distantly, the sound a faint echo through the cabin.

It didn't take long to slip away.

• • •

• • •

Sometime in the middle of the night, you were woken by a strange sound. In your groggy state, it sounded like a distant animal cooing into the night.

Once you properly came to, you realized the warmth against your back had retreated. The blanket had been partially ripped away in the process, leaving the skin of your back exposed to the cold air of the cabin.

What had sounded far away you now realized was coming from right behind you, pained little noises and harsh wheezing. You rolled over to take in the sight of Hawks, blindly reaching for him in a moment of panic.

Worry struck you when your skin touched his. He had already been warm to the touch before; but now, his skin felt scorching, sticky with sweat. Your hand had landed on his chest, where you could feel his muscles rapidly rising and falling with each staggering breath.

The noise that had woken you became obvious then; he was panting, sharp and labored breaths that whooshed in and out of him, occasionally accompanied with a quiet, pained sound.

He had shoved the blankets away and was laying on his back, wings tucked in uncomfortably tight beneath him. Through the faint glow of warm light from the fireplace, you could see his chest raising and falling rapidly, head tossed back, face contorted in pain. Some strands of blonde locks were clinging to the sweat soaked skin on his face.

"Keigo - Keigo," you called to him, hands rising to his shoulders so you could shake him.

It wasn't until he jerked suddenly, eyes opening and head whipping towards you, that you realized he had been sleeping. His labored breathing intensified, but only for a second, before he started to calm down.

His gold eyes were glossy for a second, staring at you blindly, before he started to wake properly. His lips were parted, sharp breaths still escaping him in harsh wisps.

"Are you okay?" you whispered harshly. "Are you sick? You look-..."

You could see a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Now, with him leaning up a little, you could see the flush of red tinting his skin, all down his chest and across his cheeks. His shoulder muscles were tight and his wings twitched helplessly beneath him.

"I'm f-fine," Hawks answered, voice low and hoarse. He swallowed roughly. "It's - it's a n-normal side effect."

"You're burning up," you hissed, hands touching his skin so carefully, like you would hurt him if you were too rough. "Are you sure you're okay?" you insisted.

"Just need-" he growled, cutting off as he tried to sit up.

His movement had repositioned your hands, causing them to drag from his shoulders to his chest, less you lose stability and collapse on top of him.

It was a familiar touch, a place you had touched him many times before; yet, he froze suddenly, gaze shifting down to your hands as if they were grounding him to this plane of existence.

Hawks' gold eyes fluttered shut and his pained expression softened. He flopped back on the bed, giving up his attempt to sit up as if he had suddenly lost all strength in his body.

Catching on, you uttered into the cold air, "is that what you need? Keigo, do you want me to-"

"Yes," he answered sharply, hissing through the cold, chilled air. He sounded relieved, thankful that you had offered before he had to ask.

"God, fuck - I - I need you, need to - to - be inside you-"

His babbling briefly ceased when you pushed the blankets off yourself and rolled on top of him, a gesture you had done many times before, now a nearly perfect art.

You watched, hypnotized as Hawks arched his back off the bed and flexed his wings until they were sprawled out on either side of him. The beautiful crimson plumes stretched out across the sheets, shuddering in faint waves that matched his heavy breathings.

In the shift, his cock became pinned against your inner thigh. If you didn't known any better, you would have thought he was prodding you with an iron rod pulled straight from the fires of a forge.

It was unbearably hot, hard as steel and painfully poking against your flesh. You could feel his heartbeat through his cock, throbbing against you as if pleading to be touched.

Arousal had never struck you this hard before, with enough force that it made your never regions throb and chest tighten. Blood rushed to your face so quickly, you briefly feared you would pass out.

Now, hovering, looking down at him, it was almost unbearable. It was clear that Hawks was in pain, and you felt a tinge of guilt at the realization that his state had aroused you.

But, the truth was, he looked stunning.

Maybe it was the red flush staining his skin, or the glisten of sweat, shiny with the reflection of the fire burning in the hearth. Maybe it was the way his gold eyes practically glowed through the darkness, staring up at you like a starving predator, glaring with dangerous intent.

Some sort of inhuman growl escaped him and Hawks grabbed at your meaty hips, roughly pulling you forward. It didn't take you long to figure out what he was doing; but, your attempts to aid were waisted, for he simply dragged you down to his liking, until the heat of your sex collided with his face ungracefully.

The first thing you registered was his mouth kissing sloppily at your sex. His tongue followed, lapping at your folds impatiently before breaching your heat. Hawks was always the kind to give sloppy oral; but, this was something else entirely.

He moaned shamelessly when his tongue registered your taste, hips rising off the bed as if attempting to chase a sensation that wasn't there.

Your hands fall onto the wall, and you tried to keep yourself up; but, he wasn't having it, growling and pulling you back down. It was difficult to not go dead weight when his tongue was lapping at your walls, mouth suctioned around your entrance like he was trying to suck juices from a ripe fruit.

One of your hands weaved through his hair, gently massaging his scalp in a praising gesture. It was difficult to get out sensible words. Instead, you moaned broken pieces of his name, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

You had no idea how much time had passed before he seemed satisfied and finally lifted you up enough to remove his mouth. The wet gasp that escaped him, suggesting he had been holding his breath, riddled you with shameful lust.

"You made a mess," Hawks observed deliriously.

He sounded immensely pleased with himself and even leaned in to take another taste, this time honing in on your pearl. You felt more than heard his pleased chuckle when you whined at the sudden touch.

This time, when he pulled away, he let you retreat. As you shimmied down his body, you caught him wiping your essence off his face with a careful finger before popping it in his mouth.

Hawks' skin was still flushed red, all the way up to his ears; but, now, he looked damn smug to top it all off. You couldn't see the look you were wearing, but you knew by the heat on your face that it was lewd.

The cold of the cabin had been lost to you, especially when you positioned your hips over his and felt the head of his cock nuzzle at your entrance, threatening to breach your core.

Hawks' head fell back into the sheets with a whine, eyes squeezing shut. Tantalized by the sight, you intended to tease him a little; however, he nudged his hips forward with a sudden jerk, effortlessly impaling you on his cock, and taking that opportunity away.

"Ohhh, fuck!" Hawks shouted before sucking his bottom lip beneath his teeth. He released it after letting out a low hiss.

You closed your own eyes for a moment, adjusting to the sudden intrusion of his impressive girth, and felt his hands slowly slide up your thighs into the dips of your hips, slotting over a spot he had practically engraved for himself ever since this began.

When your eyes opened, you looked down and took in the deliriously beautiful look on his face. His thumbs nudged your hip bones pleadingly and his eyes opened, peering up at you through dark lashes.

Forgoing any thoughts about teasing, you planted your hands on his chest and rolled your hips. The motion punched a whine out of him. The sound drawled out into a growl when you kept the rhythm, chasing your own pleasure.

"Yeah," he hummed encouragingly. "Come on. Use me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Just like - ahh - fuck..."

You hardly needed the encouragement; but, the dirty words spewing from his lips further ignited the heat in your belly, and you whined in response.

He could have easily pulled your hips down to intensify the moment. Instead, he lifted his hips off the bed to meet yours, effortlessly matching your movement and chasing the delicious warmth and wetness of your core, while letting his hands hold you gently.

"Baby, do you feel good?" Hawks uttered lowly, his pleading question gently breaking through the moment.

"Y-ye-s, Kei - go," you sobbed, stuttering out your response and groaning halfway through his name.

It was always good; but, something about this moment made it more intense than ever before. You could already feel the sensation rising, thighs trembling every time his cock slid back inside, hitting the perfect spot again and again.

"Yeah?" he hummed, sounding so breathless and fucked out, despite you having just barely begun. "You feel good, so fucking good," he praised between labored pants and low moans.

"You're so fucking good to me," Hawks babbled on, head falling back into the sheets, where he closed his eyes. You watched his adam's apple bob, noticed how tight his jaw was clenched.

A growl vibrated through his chest, followed by a breathless sympathy of curses, "oh fuck - oh fuck. Come on, fuck my cock - yeah - ahhh. Ya' hear that? Those sounds. God, you're so f-fucking perfect."

Your union was loud, skin slapping together and wet, fleshy sounds echoing between the two of you.

His dominant hand released your hip and slid around, thumb prodding between your folds and seeking out your pearl. You were already so sensitive, feeling him so deep, teetering on the edge. When his calloused skin touched that spot, you let out a cry.

"Come on this cock," Hawks groaned. "Sooo close - f-fuck. Come on. Come for me. Fucking come. Gonna fill you up. You want that? My seed. Yeah you fucking d-hnn-"

His babbling ceased when your orgasm took you, the sudden spasms and fluttering of your walls making all sensible thoughts drain from his mind.

His hand returned to your hip, fingers gripping your waist, and he started roughly dragging you up and down to meet his thrusts. You went limp, letting him bounce you on his cock to your liking. Your hands slipped off his chest and you fell onto him, forehead knocking gently against his cheek.

You could hear him huffing and grunting, the occasional growl seeping through, right into your ear as he fucked you through your orgasm, and continued on, chasing his end.

His cock throbbed, firmly enough that you felt it and the sensation startled you a little; but, that thought was lost when he let out an uncharacteristically loud shout, crying out in ecstasy.

Hawks had always been loud; but, this was something else entirely, and the moans and growls didn't stop, along with his undulating hips, for what felt like an eternity.

To top it all off, you could feel it, spurts of his seed, burning hot as it filled you. In the corner of your eye, you could make out his feathers, each and every one trembling beneath him.

Then, finally, he went still.

Hawks' panting filled the room, almost loud enough to drown out the crackling of the fireplace. Even after his panting died down, he let out quiet groans, his orgasm having not yet waned in full.

Eventually, he turned his head and pressed a wet kiss against your cheek. You turned your head to meet him, at first catching the corner of his mouth before he angled his head to kiss you properly.

You could practically feel the praises behind each kiss, thank you's and love pouring from his mouth to yours in a nonverbal gesture. His hands ran up and down your back, massaging your skin but also ensuring that you didn't move and he remained deep inside you.

When he finally released your lips, you busied your hands with his wild mane, gently pushing strands away from his face. He seemed to like the preening, letting his eyes flutter shut and head fall back.

You didn't have to ask if he was feeling better. His all-body, harsh red blush had mellowed out and he wasn't panting like a parched dog.

You hadn't realized you were still trembling until he uttered, "it's okay," in a soothing, worried voice.

His hands shifted to your thighs, where he carefully pushed them back and rolled you onto your side, keeping his cock nuzzled deep. His arms wound around your back, bringing you into an embrace while his wings stretched out behind him before sagging comfortably to the bed.

You realized, as he brought you in, that you were still shaking a little. The worry was evident in his eyes, like he had done something wrong.

"D-do you want me to pull out?" he offered in a weak voice.

"It's not that," you replied softly. "That was... intense."

When your eyes locked with his gold orbs, and he took in the sight of your expression, it seemed to steadily become clear to him, what you were feeling. His lips sought our your skin, senselessly kissing whatever he could reach, all over your cheeks, down your chin and along the expansion of your throat.

Hawks’ head fell onto the pillow and his wispy blonde hair tangled with yours. The unease began to fade away as he held you close, bringing the blanket back over your forms when his intense heat finally started to wane. So did the spell, and something concerning struck him.

"Please, tell me if it gets too intense," Hawks uttered, breath fluttering out against your temple. “I’ll-...”

He cut himself because he wasn’t quite what he would do, what he could do. Could he stop? In this moment of clear thoughts, he sure hoped so. But, part of him feared that wasn’t true, and the last thing he wanted was to lie to you about what he was capable of.

You had figured that he had yet to hit the apex of his rut. Yet, his warnings hadn't frightened you in the slightest, especially after what had just occurred. If anything, you were enticed by it. Maybe, in some strange way, it was affecting you to.

"I can handle you," you promised.

You felt more so than heard the uneasy breath that stuttered out his nostrils. Your words stirred something deep in his gut, overcoming the fear, burning arousal and adoration.

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo x you #hawks x reader #hawks smut #takami keigo fanfiction

[cryptiql]

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

[hanniiesuckle17]

Dating Seo Changbin

A/n: I am so sorry this took so long!!! i hope you like it <3 oof its been a while since I've done this style so here we go

Requested: @mrsunshine999

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoee @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @multi-net​

Warnings: cussing, changbin being best boi, 

First of all....reader you are one lucky bitch.

Dating THE changbin

damn

Changbin is definitely one of the more domestic boys

He thriiiives with being a cuddly soft boyfriend

You probably met his parents on like your fourth date

But it was like a surprise thing 

He was like “Stop by my place because I’ve got to take care of somethings before we go out”

and you were like sure whatever so you get there like twenty minutes early and knock on the door

changbin opens and says you can wait in the living room while he is grabbing some things

first of all you notice his house is super fuckin nice

you’re like “mental note to ask who his decorated is” 

so he goes off and you walk in the living room and there are his parents just looking at you with kind expectant smiles

and you’re like “ummmm.........hello........changbin’s parents....”

changbin is like walking in and out of the room completely unaware that you are lowkey shitting your pants because omg his parents are right there and you were not prepared for this you were just promised food

its then you realize this is his parents house and he freaking tricked you into meeting them

by the time he sits down next to you on the couch you’ve practically sweated through your nice outfit and answered a billion questions

“I told you, I pick good ones mom- OW!” 

you pinched him really hard and made a nervous look towards the door. 

He laugh and got the message

the two of you said goodbye and you proceeded to whack him very hard the second the door closed behind you

loves to spoil you

anytime you're mad at him the next day you find a very expensive flower arrangement as well as a nice piece of jewelry on your desk or doorstep

he never lets you pay for anything

in fact the most common argument you have is about him spending too much money on you or not letting you pay

one time after a really big fight he secretly paid your rent for the month (which led to you yelling at him again)

“CHANGBIN YOU PAID FOR MY RENT?!”

“I thought I was doing a nice thing!”

“Yes it was very nice but I want to do things for myself!”

“But you’re so....baby....my baby....I wanna take care of you.”

“I AM NOT BABY!”

he thinks you look really cute when you’re mad so you never really end up getting anywhere with arguments like that

changbin is definitely a huge cuddler

likes being both little and big spoon

his favorite sleeping position is probably you sleeping on top of his chest so he can hug you like a teddy bear (you have replaced Munchlax haha)

probably takes you on the most aesthetic dates

he loves being your personal photographer

he can’t show you off on the skz insta so he probably has like a separate private account just to post really cute pictures of the you and him

changbin is a huge fan of couple clothes 

like any kind

his favorite is finding couple shoes like sneakers. 

he likes knowing that he could wear them onstage and bring a piece of you into the public view but its like his lil secret

changbin is like super no no about scandals so after a few months he probably announces the relationship before the press even think he is in one

changbin is like the pinterest boyfriend 

like he strives to be pinterest worthy

the boys give him so much shit about it but like lowkey he doesn’t care he just steals their coffee or something in revenge

he probably keeps like special products for you in his apartment

he always has the coffee or tea you like stocked in his kitchen

changbin is definitely the type to love hard and love fast so once this boy has you locked down in a relationship he just goes all in

you two probably move in together pretty quickly because this boy is just so anxious to be around you all the time

lowkey whiny once you move in 

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”

“changbin you've said my name like 18 times what the hell do you want”

“i wanna hug.”

tries to use aegyo to get out of chores and housework

“I love dark my ass.” you say shoving a laundry basket in his arms and watching him pout 

late night gym dates at like two in the morning

the boys lowkey getting jealous of how much time he spends with you

Felix and Hyunjin basically live at your apartment

you don’t know how they got keys but somehow they are always there 

you’ll wake up one morning and felix will be randomly asleep on your couch for no reason

your dates are often crash by one of the boys but you honestly don’t mind because they are so much fun

changbin is actually the most caring and empathetic boyfriend

he always seems to know when you have a bad day or are just feeling bad about yourself

sometimes you don't even understand how he knows 

you’ll just be laying in bed on your phone after a really rough day and wanting to cry and changbin will just come up and give you the warmest gentlest bear hug 

he won’t say anything but he’ll just hold you until you want to talk or just cry it out

lets be honest changbin hugs would be the best tho

like he hugs with his whole being

in a relationship i feel like he is super affectionate so hugs are pretty common but he probably hugs differently for different circumstances

like he gives really gentle hugs when your sad and strokes your hair, kissing the top of your head

probably a big fan of quick side hugs when you're in public or with the boys

big cuddly hugs when you’re alone where he can rock you side to side or flop onto the couch with you

so ‘i love you’

again changbin falls fast and hard so he would for sure be the first one to fall in love

but he wants you to say it first because he knows sometimes he can move too quickly and he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable

the first time you say it changbin is just so happy 

before you can even finish the sentence he’s already saying it back

“I love you-”

“I love you more.”

he never forgets an anniversary even if he is on tour

during one of their breaks he flew you out so you could celebrate together 

he loves traveling with you

even if its just a road trip or the two of you randomly decide to spend the weekend at a hotel that's thirty minutes from your house

changbin definitely knows what he wants in life so the second he decides you are the one for him he starts planning how he wants to spend his life with you

he loves having serious conversations with you about the future

changbin loves when the two of you invite all the boys over for dinner and it turns into a fancy dinner party and he cant help but picture you doing this five or six years from now and you have kids and are throwing dinner parties like this on the weekends

you too throw a HUGE Christmas party every year

like inviting lots of staff from the company and a bunch of family and friends 

so like one second you are talking to changbin’s sister and your mom then the next thing you know you are accidently bumping shoulders with fuckin BamBam from Got7 or Tzuyu from Twice and Jae is singing with Jisung in your living room

its like a huge fancy event that you and changbin throw at your place that you spend like a month planning for

everyone is dressed very nice and your house is spotless and flawlessly decorated with a brightly lit tree that you and changbin spent four hours decorating

by 9pm everyone is drunk on egg nog and opening presents from secret Santa 

changbin also never lets a Christmas go by without kissing you under the mistletoe 

the boys stay the night mostly because no one is sober enough to drag Jisung out of your house. 

So Christmas morning is always spent with the boys 

changbin always puts you first 

he is really considerate and always considers how his decisions will affect you (unless he’s trying to pay for something)

all in all changbin would just be the best boyfriend

congrat reader you landed an angel

Masterlist

#stayracha #stray kids imagines #skzwriternet #stray kids reactions #stray kids preferences #stray kids oneshot #rubber ducky youre the one #stray kids scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop preferences #seo changbin imagines #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin au imagines #seo changbin au imagine #seo changbin au #changbin imagines #changbin au imagines #changbin smut #changbin fluff #seo changbin smut #seo changbin fluff #changbin oneshot #seo changbin college au #stray kids masterlist #stray kids angst #stray kids au imagine #stray kids au imagines #stray kids college au #stray kids incorrect quotes

[deceasedanddesist]

eyes off you ( hermione granger )

this is for kelly’s 3k writing challenge!! @anchoeritic ily kells<3

pairing: hermione granger x slytherin!reader ( half blood prince )

gender neutral! reader ( if there is a mistake or i accidentally used she/her pronouns let me know and ill fix it! )

warnings: small mentions of abuse at home, other than that just fluff and awkwardness.

notes: inspired by the song ‘eyes off you’ by prettymuch, the lyrics are bolded and italicized. y/n is the biggest simp. please ignore my grammar mistakes and my horrendous sentence structure. this also gives off major jily vibes, so do what you will with that information. I kinda went off with this I'm so sorry if it starts to get boring. images are from pinterest.

word count - 1.9k

hermione granger was a stubborn girl, that was one thing you knew for sure. when the two of you first met she had been adamant on hating your guts, excessive flirting and all. it was your persistence is what really got through to her; like starting to hang out in the library because you knew she would be there, and helping her pick up her books when some asshole seventh year—adorning the same infamous emerald green you did—tripped her up in the hall ( although not before threatening the bugger in her honour first ).

at the end of the day, the little acts of service were the things that made hermione swallow her pride and finally go on a damn date with you. at first, harry and ron were in utter shock that the girl was even considering going on a date with “the enemy” as they oh-so-subtly put it. but she just told them they were being overly dramatic, and that their input into who she decides to date was simply inadequate. so was it ever the surprise that one day when you finally worked up the courage to ask her, she actually said yes.

“are you serious?” you had expressed your complete disbelief of the words you just heard come out of the curly haired girls mouth.

“yes y/n, i am dead serious.” she had echoed back to you, looking thoroughly amused.

you were astonished, the girl that you quite frankly couldn’t take your eyes off of since fifth year actually agreed to go out with you. the gryffindor girl specifically that you had set your sights on, ignoring the warnings from your friends and backlash from your family, it had all paid off. becoming more defiant with your family last summer was no easy deed, but you knew the yelling and even the hitting was better than whatever they were scheming up for you this summer. lord voldemort was getting even closer to making sure he had a solid, fucked up, but loyal fanbase and you knew you would soon be a part of it if you didn’t get your shit together. you pretty much had a foolproof plan to get the hell out of your psycho household, you just needed to wait for the right moment to act on it.

amidst all of this, you knew it was dangerous to get involved with a muggle born, and you knew you were being selfish by risking yours and hermione’s lives. but there was something about her. the way she would make you feel when your insistent nagging got her lips to turn up just a little bit, or when you did something particularly embarrassing and finally got a boisterous laugh to erupt from her mouth in the middle of potions ( snape was not happy with the two of you ).

so you knew it was dangerous, you really did. but as soon as you saw hermione in the corridor right outside of the slytherin common rooms, waiting for you like you had anxiously asked her to after dinner yesterday, you knew you were down bad. you knew you were down bad because as soon as you saw her face drop when draco malfoy approached her, your heart lurched and you basically sprinted to where she was standing. she was in the middle of telling malfoy to shut up when you slid up beside her and threw an arm around her shoulder ( because protective instincts.... duh! ), somehow managing to simultaneously tell him to “sod off” and flip him the bird while hermione sunk into your side like there's no place she’d rather be.

as the two of you ran off, you couldn't help but mutter into her ear “mione, i'm not sure.....but i think his father will be hearing about this.”

you had a feeling that the laugh she let out was one you’d be hearing in your dreams for a while.

“so, where would you like to take me y/n.” she spoke, the air of the previous laughter still heard in her voice.

“tell me anything you wanna do.”

she hummed  “i don't know. how about the three broomsticks?”

while you were mulling it over, she slipped her hand in yours. your head immediately turned to meet her eyes.

there's no touch or feeling

pleasure or pain

anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins

the sudden affection had you choked up, and you had to clear your throat before continuing “um, that sounds great.”

as soon as the consent left your lips she was dragging you up the road and into the warmth of the pub, where madame rosmerta greeted the two of you at the front door. hands still intertwined, you ordered two butterbeer before wandering off into a booth. it was cozy, and you found yourself ravishing in the feeling of it all; going on hogsmeade dates, holding hands, and curling up in a booth with your drinks. it wasn’t long before you and hermione were mindlessly chatting about anything and everything, falling so deeply into conversation. only breaking out when you make her laugh, or when you go speechless at the broad smile that completely lights up her face, something that you noticed was specifically reserved for silly stories about harry and ron or her parents. you hoped that someday she would be able to talk about you with that marvellous smile on her face.

“you’re staring.” she looked adorably embarrassed at the sentiment, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I just can't take my eyes off of you.” it was a bold ( albeit true ) statement, and hermione swore to merlin you looked like you never meant any other utterance more.

“that's very generous of you, but i'm afraid i'm not that attractive.”

you looked at her in complete disbelief, “okay, okay, i’m going to wholeheartedly disregard what you just said,” taking a pause for dramatic effect “because you are the single most beautiful girl i've ever laid my eyes on, hermione granger.”

if the girl wasn’t blushing before, she was now. the way she was scrunching up her nose was the cutest, and you found her obvious inability to take a compliment quite charming. it actually boosted your own confidence, and you found yourself wanting to shower her with praises for the rest of your life just to see her reaction over and over again.

“what?” you teased, a sly smile making its way onto your face, “don't tell me potter and co deprive you of the flattery you deserve.”

the way she tilted her head and had her eyes narrowed ever so slightly told you everything you needed to know, she watched as your eyes widened in shock but shook it off because of the awkward air that was suddenly formed over the topic.

you were quite literally panicking, what if you just ruined everything? curse your slytherin ambition, you must’ve gone too far with your allusive comments. hermione hadn’t talked for about five minutes now, opting to finish her butterbeer, and the energy full of endless conversation dissipated long ago. your mug was still half full, sitting in front of you. you were just sitting there, staring at it, frantically searching your brain for something to talk about but you were fucking blanking. you were failing at pretty much the only thing you pride yourself on, and it happened to be the thing that got hermione to even go out with you in the first place.

once hermione was finished nursing her drink, you decided to speak now before she decided to make up an excuse to leave. “I'm sorry if I went too far, I do that sometimes and I made you uncomfortable, and i'm so sorry.”

then, she did the one thing you would have never even fathomed. she laughed. the girl was chortling, her head thrown back and when she finally came down from her fit she had tears running down her face.

“I'm sorry,” she said, noticing your eyebrows furrowed in concern “i've just never had someone apologize for complimenting me.”

you let out an anxious chuckle, “well you did kind of stop talking there, i figured i hit a nerve.”

“oh no! i just used to, um, fancy ron and he hasn't complimented me nearly as much in 6 years then you’ve had in an hour.” she stumbled over her words a bit as she spoke, evidently uncomfortable discussing her previous crush on weasley.

“well,” you dragged on, “i think you deserve all the flattery in the world.”

you swore to salazar slytherin himself her smile lit up the whole room, and your heart swelled when she reached over the table to grab both of your hands and link them with hers.

“how about we go for a walk, the black lake maybe?” the suggestion brought your attention to how dark it had gotten outside, you estimated that you had about an hour till the sun set. you smirked.

“I see you’re trying to snag a sunset kiss by the black lake, granger.”

your smirk turned into a full on smile as she got flustered once again, biting her lower lip.

“it's absolutely barbaric that you would allude to that, l/n.” the sarcasm was clear in her tone as you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

leaving the three broomsticks hand in hand once again, the two of you made your way down to the lake. you take off the sweater you were wearing to spread it across the grass for you and hermione to settle yourselves on. it wasn't very big, but neither of you seemed to mind as you snuggled into each other against the nights breeze. your arm making its way around her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.

you two watched the sunset in silence. it wasn’t awkward like a few minutes ago, there wasn’t a need to fill it with dialogue, it was completely comfortable. hermione adjusted under your arm and turned her head to look at you, the sudden change in direction making a few curls get caught in her glossed lips. before she could even lift her arm, you were already there, brushing her hair behind her ear. your hand found its home behind her neck as you angled your head to brush your nose against hers, her lip unconsciously making its way in between her teeth again.

you took a sharp breath and spoke, “every little thing you do drives me wild.”  

“are you gonna give me that kiss, or keep talk-”

you could feel her words melt away against your lips as you took action and pushed her head towards yours. her hands tightening around your waist and her soft sighs as your lips connect act as reminders that she wants this as much as you, and you are so damn thankful that she leans back in after you separate to take a breath.

and the sun sets with the two of you, hanging onto each other like you were each others lifelines, previous thoughts about your family or the stupid slytherin/gryffindor feud are long gone by now. 

you decide that you can deal with all of your problems in the near future, because now you have hermione safe in your arms, and that's more than enough motivation for you to stay right where you are.

#kelly's 3k wc ! #harry potter #hermione granger x reader #gender neutral reader #hogwarts #hogsmeade #this is my first like writing post so please be nice to me #I'm sorry if this is shit #i tried #plz give me constructive criticism #i need it

[plantsarefun06]

Creation of Lazarus

"But I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangling the grief, until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed, so you'd be spared your pain."

-Ra’s al Ghul ----

Ra’s was born in the Arabi desert, to nomads, in 1430. If you asked any person from that tribe what Ra’s was, they would say “A boy with dreams”. Ra’s had dreams of knowledge, dreams of helping others, he dreamed of having a legacy, and a great one at that.

His dreams led him to leave his tribe. He knew that as a nomad, he would never truly achieve what he wished to and the best course of action was to settle down in a great city and continue the measly education that he got as a nomad, and the great knowledge the libraries of the Sultan provided.

His studies led him to a physician. Ra’s requested to become a physician, he wanted to help others, this would offer him an opportunity to study and learn about diseases and ailments, firsthand, and offer him chances to help the sick and injured.

The physician asked for one thing. “I am infirm and soon for the grave. My daughter, Sora, she will need a husband to look after her.” That’s when he heard a yell from the curtain behind the clerk’s desk. A woman swiftly pushed back the curtain to scold her father. “I thought we agreed you’d stop trying to marry me off!”

The girl, clearly about his age, looked at him, let out a quick huff before grabbing his wrist in a vice-like grip and dragging him behind the clerk’s desk, behind the curtain, into what he could now see was a closet, with medicines and serums lining the walls, all filled with cobwebs and dust, clearly having not been used in a while.

“I’ll be honest with you Ra’s… I don’t really like boys much… but I can offer you companionship and support. And if we get married it will make my father’s last days much happier.” He was evaluating what she said as she said it when she quickly looked over to the shelves “And him stop pestering me.” She mumbled more to herself than Ra’s. At that he let out a light chuckle and having thought over her offer gave her his thoughts.

“I admit, I’m more interested in the pursuit of knowledge than women. We might be able to come to some… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Sora gave a light smile to Ra’s, and he returned it. They both understood the agreement they both had created.

----

Within the year, as they all had expected, Sora’s father had died.

Despite them knowing that the time was drawing near, it was still hard. Sora would never admit it, but she shed a tear at his funeral, watching the bird fly through the skies as he was laid out in the Tower of Silence for a sky burial, traditional for his Zoroastrianism.

To cope Ra’s delved into his studies and found a project of the late physician. He had seen him look over it many times, but he had never been allowed to read the texts. He would simply watch as the physician would spend hours pouring over the texts, before the physician would finally come over and teach him about traditional medicinal herbs and serums and their effects. Ra’s forever acknowledges that he learned more in his months under the physician's tutelage, than he ever did in the library.

He learned of how diseases spread, and the common ways they would extend across the city in the matter of weeks. How if they started within the markets, they would quickly spread across many of the peasants, and other middle-class folk, but they wouldn’t get much farther, and how if the diseases started amongst the slaves, they would spread much faster due to the unsanitary conditions, and they would often then be picked up by someone of upper class, as they traditionally had slaves, and spread.

He was eternally grateful for the lessons he was given. They helped him serve the city in incredible ways. Ra’s performed near miracles for anyone who needed it. His reputation started to grow, some upper-class citizens would refuse to come, because Ra’s would cater to slaves, but others would request the treatment of Ra’s and would always find themselves healed within the week.

But these texts that he found of the physicians, seemed to have some pages with herbs and brews, but the majority held drawings of people, dressed in unfamiliar clothing, all bright, with texts in a script he couldn't begin to understand. He looked among the pages and found what looked to be a cypher in the physician's handwriting. The physician had part of the unfamiliar script figured out… no not script… it was CODE! The texts were coded!

All he would need to do was complete the cypher and he would discover what the texts were for.

----

Ra’s poured hours into the texts and completing the code, with no such luck.

“It’s no good. These codes your father was working on have me beat. I can’t break it…” He called to his wife, who was currently working in the front of the shop after it closed about an hour ago, she was preparing for the next day, he supposed.

“Perhaps I can help?” She poked her head in from behind the curtain to peer at him being over the table.

“Thank you, Sora. A warm bowl of goat’s milk and nutmeg would be most refreshing.” Ra’s commented back to her, without lifting his eyes from the texts in front of him.

He could practically feel the glare she was giving him. He wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t burn him with the intensity he could only feel from it, and he wasn’t even looking at her.

“I mean with the code. I learnt much from my father and knew he was struggling to complete his final great work, just as much as you. You’re not married to a servant girl, Ra’s. Warm the milk yourself, and let me see those figures.” The defiance in her tone was thick and her anger was subtle yet tangible. He didn’t understand it but that defiance, and strong will made him want to love her.

He knew that their relationship was built on the agreement of companionship, and for the safety of Sora after her father’s death, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t love her. Love the way she would snark him when he would ask her to do things, that he could do himself, love how she would hum as she cooked the dinner that they ate every night, her loved how she would ever so lightly furrow her eyebrow when she was concentrated on work.

Ra’s let out a small smile and turned to meet his wife by the curtain. He bent down to kiss her forehead, “Sora… I believe this is going to be a beautiful marriage.” He gave her a light hug before giving her another kiss on her forehead and mumbling to her just loud enough for her to hear, “I’ll go warm some goat’s milk for the both of us, and you can look over the codes, until I get back, and we can work on them together.” He gave her a light squeeze before unraveling himself from her and going off to warm the goat’s milk, and Sora heading over to the table to study the texts.

----

“More code?” Ra’s asked no one in particular. He and Sora had stumbled upon a trapdoor underneath a floor mat in the medicinal closet while cleaning. Ra’s could tell from the hinges alone that it was used regularly. When they opened the hatch they saw that it led down a small ladder, the ladder led to a room, an underground cave almost, despite it being quite dark he could make out the sound of lightly sloshing water and summarized that there was a pool in this cave.

They both held small candles, and when holding them close to the wall they saw it. It was a wall full of more texts! They were familiar enough with the code to recognize that the code from the texts upstairs matched the one in front of them.

A glint of recognition and understanding was in Sora’s eyes. “My father was working on a map of the Tibetan mountains, using the wisdom of the stars and other maps from the libraries of the Sultan. And figuring out the meaning of the code from texts of the ancients. A code showing…” She stopped speaking, her eyes running over a few things before stopping.

“And code of what?” Ra’s questioned Sora’s sudden quietness and turned to give her his whole focus. Her eyes were completely fixed on one drawing. It was of the silhouette of a man, behind him was a circle of purple. The way it was positioned it seemed to be describing the man emitting the purple. Like he was glowing.

He refocused his attention on his wife’s face as she turned to him, “One which tells the way to achieve something men have long dreamed-” he saw the emotions his wife’s face held. Emotions he had never seen in her face before, it was complete and utter disbelief,

“-a wish to change reality.”

----

They soon were able to decipher enough code to learn that the Tibetan mountains was the location of the Temple of Guardians, the holders of two pieces of magical jewelry that possessed the ability, when combined, to grant a wish that could alter reality.

Sora and Ra’s had both packed enough for a 3-week trip on horseback, to the Tibetan mountains, and back. Ra’s had won the argument over who would be going, Sora wanting it to be herself, but eventually agreeing Ra’s would be better suited for the job, considering he grew up as a nomad, much to Sora’s chagrin.

He had been on trek for a week and was taking a rest on the side of the dirt road to fill his canteen with water from a stream he saw nearby, when he saw a flash of light blue and white out of the corner of his eyes. He immediately drew one of the daggers that he carried at all times and started to look around for what he saw.

He hadn’t fought anyone in a decade, last time being a practice spar with his uncle the night before he left to go live in the city alone, and even then, he was only okay, but he did know some forms of martial arts and weaponry in theory. He read about it in some of the texts from the library, while theory may not have anything on experience, it was better than nothing.

He was beginning to think he had either come down with a fever and been hallucinating, or he had simply been seeing things, when after five minutes of surveying the area, he could see that no one had been there.

He walked up to his undisturbed horse and grabbed the reins. Upon lifting himself on the horse he heard a light *jingle*. He looked down to find a small drawstring bag tied around the tip of his saddle. He was used to seeing little drawstring bags, like this one, around the shop. Sora often used them to hold the herbs they used for medical purposes, but he didn’t know why she would have packed it, or why it jingled when it was shaken.

He slowly picked it up, examining it as if it were going to spontaneously catch fire. He slowly undid the knot and overturned the contents of it in his gloved hand.

Out fell two earrings and a ring…

A ring that was a black as dark as the night sky he saw as a nomad child, with a pawprint, greener than any grass or any tapestry he had seen before…

And a pair of earrings red as the blood he had seen countless times as a physician, and five distinct spots, black as the ring…

Both the ring and the earrings looking exactly like the drawings he had seen of the Black Cat miraculous and the Ladybug miraculous he had seen in the texts.

Ra’s had learned many lessons in his life, but one of the biggest, most important of them all: There are no coincidences in the world.

Ra’s had no doubt in his mind that in his hand, he held the two most powerful objects in the universe, two objects that would grant him a wish.

Slowly, a grin grew on his face. He immediately seized the reins of his horse, and turned him around, heading faster than he ever had back to the city.

His father-in-law's final project was finally completed on its way to being completed.

----

The look on Sora’s face was one he had only seen once before, when they first discovered the small area underneath the shop, complete and utter disbelief.

“This… these jewels… are they really the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous?” She asked wide-eyed, just looking at what Ra’s had set on the counter after barging into the shop, in a ridiculously loud manner, might she add.

“I do believe it is, they practically feel powerful!”

Sora slowly inched her hand toward where the earrings fell on the counter. The moment she gently brushed her finger against one of the earrings, a bright pink light emitted from it, one that forced both Sora and Ra’s to cover their eyes.

Once the light dimmed, they saw something that was not in the texts.

Both Sora and Ra’s were in a state of shock. It was broken when the thing floated up to her face and began to speak, “Hello my name’s Tikki. I’m the Kwami of Creation!” She said, giving a little twirl in the air.

Ra’s, finally able to speak again, asked, “That does not explain much. What is a ‘Kwami’ and why did you suddenly appear when the earrings were touched by Sora?”

“Ooh. A Kwami is an entity tethered to this plane of reality by the jewelry that is sitting on your counter. I’m the entity of creation. When everything came to be, I came to be with it, not before, not after, some people confuse that.” The ‘Kwami’, as they both learned it was, giggled before continuing with the explanation they both needed, “I’m the thing that gives power to that jewelry, without me, that jewelry is just some antique junk.” She finished her explanation.

It made more sense than just ‘magical jewelry’ to have some entity tethered to it. “If you touch the ring Plagg will come out!” She exclaimed before going over to Ra’s and pulling off his glove and grabbing his hand. She pulled his hand from his side and he willingly allowed the ‘Kwami’ to lift his finger to touch the ring.

A second burst of bright light, green this time, came from the ring. This time Sora and Ra’s expected it so it wasn’t too bad. They only had to blink a couple times before they heard a yawn, “Well that was a good cat nap!” The other ‘Kwami’, who he was guessing his name was ‘Plagg’ from what ‘Tikki’ said, “Do you all have some cheese, I’m starving!”

Sora was the one who pulled herself together enough to answer ‘Plagg’s’ question, “There is some food in the cabinet under the basin. You may find what you are looking for there.” Sora gestured to the curtain and both Kwami got the memo, before floating off where Sora indicated the food would be.

Both Ra’s and Sora locked eyes. Their silent conversation led to them both leaving each other's gaze to eye the ring and earrings. They both agreed that they had no idea what had just happened.

----

“That is not a good idea.”

That was the only thing that was said after Sora and Ra’s took them to see the basement beneath their shop that held the texts and the pool. Both of the Kwami were faced away from the texts as ‘they should not see them’. Ra’s gave them an indignant look at their immediate dismissal of their want for a wish.

“This could help hundreds maybe even thousands of people, how is this not a good idea?”

“You don’t understand, the wish has major repercussions, you can always ask for a way to heal the injured and dead, but that wish will have untold side-effects.” Tikki tried to explain to both Ra’s and Sora. The sincerity in her voice was deep, but they did not hear the sadness that lingered in it as well.

“Will you not allow us to make the wish?” Sora asked, tilting her head to the side, as if analyzing the situation.

“We cannot stop you from making the wish, but we must tell you, it will have repercussions, and the one who makes the wish will feel them deeply.” Sorrow again seeped into Tikki’s voice; this time Ra’s noticed it as well.

“Then I will make the wish, I have memorized the incantation and only one of us can make the wish itself.” He pulled the now silver ring and black earrings from his pocket. He placed the ring on his left middle finger. He prepared to force the earrings through his ears, worst case scenario he could use whatever came of the wish to heal himself, only to be pleasantly surprised when the earrings glided through his ear as if he did have a piercing.

Both the Kwami moved to the outstretched hands Ra’s offered and sat down. Ra’s failed to notice the tears in Tikki’s eyes, and the downcast look on Plagg’s face.

The moment he uttered the last syllable, the rush to Ra’s was undeniable. He felt immense amounts of power seeping into his veins.

“I wish to have the means to heal any injury and return any person from death.”

And everything went quiet. All the power he was feeling only moments ago, felt like it was running off him, like dirt would in a shower.

He looked over to see Sora sitting in the ground shielding her face, much in the same manner she was when they first met the Kwami.

Both the earrings and ring started to burn lightly, so he ripped them off and threw them behind him, before running over to Sora and helping her stand.

Ra’s felt at his ear, where he just ripped the earring out, noticing the earrings didn’t leave so much as a scar.

Looking to check over Sora, he saw out of the corner of his eyes a bright green glow.

Both Ra’s and Sora looked over to see a neon, toxic green color at the bottom center of the pool.

It was mesmerizing how the green stretched from a small center at the bottom of the pool out, almost like tentacles, or tree roots growing out in the dirt.

He continued to watch until the entire pool was filled with the green, when he saw the same white and light blue flash out of the corner of his eyes. He tried to turn quickly and catch it, but the only thing he saw was an empty room.

A room empty of both the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous.

----

Life went on relatively normal for Ra’s and Sora. They cleaned out the basement and removed the texts, as they were no use to him anymore, and cleaned the area.

When finding a name, they settled on one- Lazarus Pit - from a biblical story that Sora’s father mentioned in one of the texts.

He had said ‘he wanted to be able to do the same as the Christian’s god, and revive the dead. And if the wish truly worked, it would be able to, they had yet to try the pit and test the magic that quite obviously resided within it.

----

As time went on, and the pit remained below their feet, Ra’s continued his work as a physician, continuing working miracles without the use of the pit, which was an actual miracle. His reputation grew both of his physician's duties, and of the great mind he held. He was referred to as “the greatest mind of his age” by some.

Ra’s had heard him referred to as this on occasion, but he didn’t realize just how far word of his miracles went until the Sultan’s guard requested his aid in healing the prince who had fallen ill.

As the guards left his shop, leaving him with the letter asking him officially of his aid he immediately turned to Sora with quite possibly the largest smile he ever had on his face, “If I could cure the prince-- our reputation would be made, I’d have the funding to push my research forward-”

He was cut off by Sora who he only realized was rubbing her temple with her hands at his rant, “The prince is nothing but a cruel young aristo-- I’ve caught him leering at me in the Bazaar!”

“Don’t do this Ra’s. We can do without the Sultan’s money!” Sora pleaded to him. She held a look of concern on her face that Ra’s completely ignored, rather thinking about what he could possibly do with the benefits of healing a prince.

“You’re wrong! When I walked through the desert, I nurtured a dream. This is my way to fulfill it!”

Ra’s turned away from Sora, and headed down below the shop, to the Pit.

----

Everything went wrong. And Ra’s had no idea how.

Everything was going fine.

The royal guards had brought the sick prince to his shop as requested by Ra’s. The moment he saw the prince Ra’s knew that he was on his deathbed… he knew the only way to help him was using the Lazarus Pit.

He had the guards bring him down the ladder and he followed them, with Sora by his side.

They dipped the prince in the Pit. They let him wade. It was only seconds, maybe a minute, at most, before the prince burst out from under the water. Certainly not sickly like he was, to the point of not being able to walk, not like he was when he arrived.

For the briefest moment Ra’s lived in this fantasy where the Pit healed the Prince, and Ra’s got the reputation he wanted, the funding he needed, and got to continue the research that he always wanted to. He lived in this fantasy where he and Sora worked side-by-side, studied medicine, and became great physicians known for their miracles.

This fantasy ended when the prince left at Sora his eyes, we're not the same as they were when he went in; they were yellow and feral. There was a snap before the guards were able to subdue him. They only realized that the snap was from Sora’s neck. And Sora laid on the ground with scratch marks on her face, her head bent at an unnatural angle, and a small drop of blood dripping down her cheek, from her mouth.

Ra’s fell beside her body, unmoving, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, the prince stopped struggling in the guards' arms and seemed to gain some form of coherency of the situation, but he could not look away from her. He didn’t even breathe until the guards grabbed him as well and put a bag over his head.

Everything went wrong.

----

They said he killed her. The Sultan was told by the prince’s guards that his son had killed the wife of the physician that treated him for his illness.

That he had snapped her neck. In return the guards were killed. They could not have the truth be spread. It could cause uprising if such rumors were told to others. So, the moment he was told the story, directly from the prince’s guards who had been there, and he got assurance that they had taken the husband -the physician- and put him in the dungeons, and after that assurance was placed, he had his personal guards slit their throats.

It wasn’t hard to say it was the husband who did it. Without the guards to tell what happened, and the physician in such a state of shock he wouldn’t even talk, no one questioned what the Sultan said.

How did this happen again?

Why did the prince look like that?

He looked feral?

His eyes were near yellow?

Why would he attack her?

Why would he kill her?

Why did he seem to be fine after a minute or being restrained?

Why?

Why?

Why?

They were the only questions Ra’s was asking himself of late.

He was completely unreactive on the outside but was perfectly aware of what was happening. He was perfectly aware of how the Sultan was placing the blame on him. How the Sultan was saying he killed Sora. He killed his wife.

And yet he knew that regardless of the fact he was innocent, he would still be blamed and persecuted for her death. So, he sat still and continued to ask those questions in his head.

How did this happen again?

Why did the prince look like that?

He looked feral?

His eyes were near yellow?

Why would he attack her?

Why would he kill her?

Why did he seem to be fine after a minute or being restrained?

Why?

Why?

Why?

He knew he was being gagged, tied up, and dragged from his cell from the dungeons beneath the castle. He knew that this is when they would punish him. It would be death.

How he would die?

He did not know.

Likely a public flogging, beating, or torture of some kind before then bend him over a rock and to take his head off.

And to be honest, Ra’s couldn’t feel anything, he was completely numb as his knees, calves, and feet were dragged over the dirt, and cobble leaving long scars. He knew they were supposed to sting, and burn, and just hurt, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He knew that was a bad sign, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He didn’t start to see anything until he saw it. There was a cage in the center of the courtyard, black iron, probably burning hot with the sun as it is, but that is not what caught his eye. It was the body of Sora that laid in it.

He started to feel the burn of the metal as they forced him in the same small cage as Sora. He was forced to curl in on himself as her body lay not 6 inches from him. Sat up against the side of the cage, with rope tied around her neck and waist, keeping her sitting upright, and facing the rest of the unbearably small cage. Her eyes still opened in the same shock they were in when he first was beside her body.

He felt as the cage was lifted up, the burn of the hot metal only worsening, as they carried the cage out to the city walls, to leave him in the desert to die.

----

His eyes never stayed off Sora’s for long. He remembered what her eyes looked like…

… these are not her eyes.

Sora’s eyes held none of what it used to. Her eyes held confidence, charm, they held stubbornness and defiance. All the things that made Sora the woman she was. All the things that were devoid in those eyes.

Those eyes were open and held only one thing: fear. And that was unlike Sora at all. Sora was never afraid.

But maybe she was of death. Maybe her eyes held fear because she realized what was going to happen…

...because she realized she was going to die.

----

Ra’s didn’t know how long he sat in that cage outside the city walls, staring into the unfamiliar eyes.

All he knew was that the trance was broken by the sound of creaking metal. The hinges. And the feeling of hands going under his arms and pulling him up. He had the strength to turn his head and be met with a face that was faintly familiar.

“Who are you?” He weakly rasped out. “Sabih, I’m a slave for the al-Hafiz family. You saved my mother from dysentery four months ago… I figured I owed you the same.”

And that’s all they said. That’s all they said when he walked back towards the al-Hafiz property. That’s all they said after Sabih settled him in the stables and fed him some water and leftover scraps. That’s all they said as Sabih handed Ra’s a small bag with some water, and food in it. That’s all they said before Ra’s returned to the outside of the city walls, and left on a search for the nomadic tribe he was born and raised in.

He didn’t know what to do, but he was going to figure it out, but not do it in that city.

----

It took him a few weeks, and some manual labor in return for supplies, before he found his uncle’s nomads and took control. It was relatively easy.

By the time he had found the nomads he had been able to sort through his mind. Find his priorities.

And right now, he wanted one thing: he wanted the great city to burn.

He wanted them all dead, he just had to be smart about it. He was thankful, now more than ever for the lessons Sora’s father gave.

He learned of how diseases spread, and the common ways they would extend across the city in the matter of weeks. How if they started within the markets, they would quickly spread across many of the peasants, and other middle-class folk, but they wouldn’t get much farther, and how if the diseases started amongst the slaves, they would spread much faster due to the unsanitary conditions, and they would often then be picked up by someone of upper class, as they traditionally had slaves, and spread.

It would be easy, he would start by giving a disease to the slaves, if the disease would spread quick enough, it could be passed down the classes and severely weaken the city. Especially if the slaves were hit first, considering that the city was built with them as their foundation.

----

The city was ravaged. Those who didn’t die of disease were killed by Ra’s and his men. When the priests of the Zoroastrian Delegation asked if they spared them and their Holy Towers of Silence. Ra’s turned to the man who was the messenger of the request and bared his teeth.

“Kill the priests. Burn their sacred buildings!”

Ra’s stood in before the destruction he caused. He returned to the city a very different man from when he first arrived there.

A man with a different dream…

Ra’s walked back to the old shop. One that he spent much time in. Leading the others down to the opening below the shop to allow them to see the Lazarus Pit.

“Uncle, you are still the leader of our tribe, but the tribe I am describing will stretch farther than the sands of Arabi. Stretch into every land… past the wall of every city.” Ra’s spoke keeping his voice low and authoritarian. His uncle let off a chuckle.

“Oh, nephew. Just like your father. You were always the dreamer. What you speak of it too… fantastical.” His words made Ra’s a bit angry, but a bit smug at the same time. His uncle had no idea what the Pit in front of his very eyes was capable of.

“*tch* My father never had half my vision, Uncle, nor half my talent.”

His uncle just sputtered in response, “But… it would take several lifetimes for one man to accomplish what you speak of!”

Ra’s just smirked at his words, “Yes, uncle. Yes indeed. And it will be quite some journey.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ra’s focused on the pit, reminded of Tikki’s words…

“You don’t understand, the wish has major repercussions, you can always ask for a way to heal the injured and dead, but that wish will have untold side-effects.”

“We cannot stop you from making the wish, but we must tell you, it will have repercussions, and the one who makes the wish will feel them deeply.”

He truly did. The creation of this wish helped him achieve one of his life’s greatest desires, one of his greatest loves, and in return he lost the love of his life, Sora.

And if you are to use the Lazarus Pit to heal physical injuries, you will suffer from temporary loss of sanity.

Truly a balance.

“You will learn in time. Time is something we have a great deal of. The destruction of this city… has unleashed a demon.

And I… Ra’s al Ghul… I am truly the Demon’s Head!”

----------

Heavily based off of Batman Annual Vol. 1 26

‘al Ghul’ translates to Demon’s Head in Arabic. Notice how that ‘al Ghul’ is only used during the quote at the beginning of the story(yes I did use a quote from the Nolan movies. It fit really well), and at the end when he loses it.

This is the closest I could possibly get to DC canon on Ra’s al Ghul’s origin. In the original Ra’s does not create the pits he simply finds them, with the help of maps left behind by the physician. I wrote this because I really wanted a Miraculous created Lazarus pit, but one that also had Sora in it. I really like her for the scene with the goat’s milk (that is comic accurate, you can check) and what happened to her was NOT deserved. I also wanted to show the human side of Ra’s, and how rage drove him to be such an evil person.

Also a headcanon of mine is that any miraculous jewelry that is some sort of piercing, does not actually require a piercing to wear, it will just go through the skin as if there was a piercing.

The ‘light blue flash’ that Ra’s thinks he hallucinated was a holder of the Rabbit miraculous leaving both the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous to him. This is done because the Lazarus pits are necessary to a stable timeline, not because whatever holder of the Rabbit miraculous is active, thought it was a good idea. They were practically forced.

Ra’s and Sora were closer to each other than anyone else, she was referred to as the love of his life, and they really had a deep bond and when Sora was killed he was broken. In the comic I based this off of, Talia even says, “[...]the death of Sora broke your grandfather’s heart… and forever darkened his soul.” when speaking to Damian.

#maribat #ra's al ghul #sora al ghul #lazarus pit #ml tikki #ml plagg #miraculous fandom #prequel #the blindness of marinette

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dear Diary Prt. 13

A/N: We're back Baby

---------------------

December 22nd, 2011

Dear Diary,

It’s six o'clock in the morning, a ludicrous time to be awake really, but we’ve got a long day ahead of us. We’re driving home with George and Jordan today.

Now, We’ve been doing this for a couple of months, and it’s been working out well. Starting everything off with ��Dear Diary’ (something I was critical off, but now is so natural) and then me verbally purging my innermost, and most inappropriate thoughts onto the painfully white pages - We’ve done well, we’ve faced a lot but now we’re going up against the most painful thing we’ve ever faced since we started this journey.

Christmas with my family

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family but they drive me insane with their constant nagging about my love life - now at least I’ll have something to brag about - and my career choices.

Will I work in the family practice? Go on to a surgery discipline?

Drives me mental.

I’ll write more soon, I have to get my parka into my bag,

Love, Y/N.

December 22nd, 2011 - One o'clock

Jordan, George and I are finally in the car, we left after Jordan and George practically had to pull me from why bedroom as I was running around picking up anything I might need on the week-long visit.

“Y/N,” George yelled from the couch. “You nearly done?"

"Yeah.” I puffed out. “Just tryna….” Breathing raggedly from trying to shove my parka into the bag.

“What?"

"Parka,” I grunted. The material for this thing was too damn puffy, and not nearly malleable enough. “Just trying to fit it,"

"Just carry it Y/N,” Jordan called, “We’ve gotta get on the road, or we’ll not be there until tonight and I don’t know about your mum,” He appeared at the door, eyes watching me as I tried to fold the material, “But mine’s already threatened to cut off my balls if I’m late for tea, and I quiet like my balls, useful for things,”

"He’s right,” George called.

“I know he is,” I groaned pulling the coat out of the overstuffed bag. “That’s why it’s so annoying.” I zipped the duffle up and pulled the coat over my body, looking to Jordan who was giving me a toothy grin. I still can’t believe this is the same Jordan who tried hitting on me the first night I’d met him, and subsequently every night out up until a couple weeks ago,

“Y/N?” Jordan snapped his fingers, “You in there?”

“What?” I shook my head, “Yeah, I’m here.” I picked up the bag and looked around. “Okay,“ I looked around checking for anything I may have forgotten to shove into the bag, "I’m ready,"

"Finally,” Jordan clapped. “Let’s go, I’ll carry it,” He reached for the duffle. I passed it over to him, closing my bedroom door behind us as we walked into the living room.

“Where are your bags?” I looked around for George and Jordan’s luggage.

“We put it in the car before we came to get you,” George pulled open the front door and stepped into the hallway, holding it open for us.

“Such a gentlemen,” Jordan teased as he passed George. I quickly looked around making sure everything was locked. “Harry checked it all before he and Dean left,”

“Oh,” I walked out the door and waited for the pair. “Ready?”

“Only a couple hours till we all get to eat a home-cooked meal,” Jordan cheered.

“Only a couple hours until my mother and father, and the rest of my family ask me unending questions about my first semester, you mean.” I altered.

“Tell em about the time you got drunk,” Jordan suggested as I shut the door behind us,

“Which time,” George cackled to himself as we began our way down the hallway,

“I think the nacho time was probably the best one,” Jordan smirked,

“Oh, you mean the dinner we weren’t invited too?” George looked over to Jordan, a smile bubbling on his face.

“That’s the one I mean George,” Jordan pushed open the door to the stairwell.

“It was supposed to be a study session,” I defended myself, “Dean turned it into something more, not me.”

“Don’t blame Dean just because you didn’t want us there,” George tutted.

“Yeah Y/N,”

“But don’t worry Y/N, we have five hours to discuss why you didn’t invite us to dinner,” I could hear the smirk in George’s voice as we stepped down another flight.

“Seems like it’ll be more like five hours with two bullies in the car,"

"Don’t be silly Y/N,” Jordan threw his arm around my shoulder. “Doncaster is only 3 hours away,"

"Lucky me,”

“You love it Y/N, admit it.” George chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to make this drive with anyone else,”

He’s got you there Y/N, five hours sitting next to George… I need to sit in the front seat.

“Yeah sure,” I quickly moved down the stairs. Beat Jordan, Beat Jordan. Beat Jordan, Beat Jordan.

“So, now your in a rush Y/N?” Jordan laughed.

“No,” I called over my shoulder back towards the idle walking men, “Just wanted shotgun,” I screamed as I pushed open the final door and began running towards George’s car.

“No, you don’t Y/N,” Jordan screamed at me, the sound of his feet hitting the concrete stairs in the stairwell echoing as he ran after me. “I’m gonna get ya,"

"Stop it Jordan,” I squealed over my shoulder. “George, tell him to stop it,"

"Y/N?"

"Tom?” I stopped, Tom was standing in front of me, his hands in his pocket a look of confusion covering his face.

“What are you doin?” He laughed,

“Run Y/N!” George yelled from behind me as he emerged from the stairwell.

“Go!“ Tom pushed my shoulder gently sending me back into a full sprint towards the car. “Run Y/N,”

Jordan and I were neck and neck as we reached the car.

"Mine,” We screamed together, hands reaching out.

“I got it,” Jordan cheered his palm flat against the metal.

“Fuck,” I groaned, hands dropping to my knees as my lungs tried to kill themselves. “Jesus,"

"You really aren’t fit are you?"

"No,” I shook my head wildly, “Not at all,"

"After Christmas,” He patted my shoulder.

“Great,” I panted, hands still resting on my knees. “Can’t wait,"

"You alright Y/N?” George strolled towards me, Tom by his side. “You lost by the way,”

"Yes, I know.” I groaned. “Hi Tom,” I stood up a little straighter, ignoring the burning of my lungs, a smile coming to my lips as I took him in. “Won’t be a second George, I’ll meet you both in the car?"

"Yeah,” George held his hand out to Tom, “Happy Christmas,"

"See you in the New Year?” George nodded, “Mates throwing a party for New Years, you’re all welcome,"

"We’ll be there,” George winked cheekily at me as he passed. Tom walked over to me, pulling me to his chest,

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you for a week,” He mumbled into my hair, “I’ve grown used to seeing

you."

"At least it’s only a week,” I looked up at him. “I better go,” He nodded and leant down placing a chaste kiss on my lips. “Seven days,"

"Seven days,” He let go of me. His hand wrapped in mine as he walked with me to the car. He opened the door and waited for me to sit in the backseat behind Jordan, “Keep her safe MacKay,"

"Always,” George laughed as he started the ignition.

“Message me when you get there,"

"I will,” Tom closed the door and stepped back onto the footpath,

“Ready Y/N,” Jordan turned around in his seat looking back at me.

“Ready,”

So far the trip has been fine, Jordan, from the front seat, has been trying to get George and I to play I-spy with him, nearly the whole way, somehow he’s not figured out yet that if he stops picking things and looking at them for three minutes before he speaks we won’t guess so quickly what he’s chosen.

I’ll write more when I’m home diary, I’ll let you know how dinner with the family went.

Love Y/N,

December 22nd, 2011 - Seven o'clock

Dear Diary,

I just need to quickly write down what just happened for prosperity, then I have to run down and have dinner with the family. So it began when George had pulled up out the front of my house.

“Here we are,” George pulled the car into the curb bringing it to a still. I looked out the window and up at the house I’d grown up in. “You’re not going in?"

"Just want one more minute of silence before I run in and get bombarded with all the questions,"

"It won’t be that bad Y/N,” I looked from the house to him, He was leaning back on his headrest looking at me already.

“You don’t know my family,” I copied his form. “They’re mental, I’m surprised my mum hasn’t popped her head through the window yet,” I groaned. “And then it’ll be onto their constant nagging about my love life,”

“Least you have Tom now,"

"I wish it ended there, it’ll then go to my career choices. Will I work in the family practice? Go on to a surgery discipline maybe?” I let my head fall. “Every year, since I was fifteen they’ve been asking the same questions,"

"I’ll make you a deal, you go in there and face the hordes, and if it gets too much, send me a text saying Christmas tree and I’ll come to save you, we’ll run away together,"

"Christmas tree?” I laughed, George nodded his head,

“Christmas tree,"

"Okay,"

"Okay,” He reached across and pushed my fallen hair behind my ear, “You can do this, you’re Y/N Y/L/N,"

"Sounds so much bigger than it is when you say it,” I laughed picking up my duffle bag from my feet. I opened the door and went to step out, stopping to turn back to George, “Christmas Tree,” He nodded his head.

“I’ll be here, with bells on,"

“You’d look cute with bells on,”

“You’re cute when you’re flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” I watched him as he turned away and looked up at the sky once more.

“I wish you had been. Tom better now how bloody lucky he is,”

So that happened. George happened. But he always happens when I don’t expect it…

Now it’s time for Christmas dinner with the family, I’ll write more if anything other than the nagging happens,

Love Y/N

December 23rd, 2011

Dear Diary,

I’ve survived two days (Basically two days), only just. I’m already starting to pull my hair out. The constant invasive questions from my family… It’s unbearable… The worst one though had to, by far come from my Aunt Mildred, who at dinner the night I’d arrived asked if I’d lost my virginity yet, or if that had happened a while ago. She then went into excruciating detail about how she lost her virginity.

I’ll never be the same.

I’ve considered messaging George, but I don’t want to ruin his time with his family.

Five more days Diary, five more days

December 24th, 2011

Dear Diary,

I’m ready to kill my family. As if Aunt Mildred’s descriptive, beyond detailed story about how she lost her virginity wasn’t enough. Now, my mum has sat me down, tonight, the night of the birth of Jesus mind you, and tried to have a safe sex talk with me… Like I haven’t known about sex, let alone sex for the last few years, since grade seven actually, and then she had the audacity to act surprised when I cut her off mid-sentence telling her I knew about the birds and the bees as she so aptly put it.

Now she thinks I’m lying about being a virgin.

Great. Just, great.

I had gotten through nearly three days before I’d sent a message to George, I needed some normalcy or my new sense of normalcy. He replied pretty quickly, saying he’d be out to pick me up, true to his word, Ten minutes later he was beeping out the front of my house.

“I’m going out,” I called as I trudged down the stairs.

“You can’t Y/N, it’s Christmas,” Mum cried from the kitchen as I passed by.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Ma.” I groaned. “I’m just going to see some old friends, and I’ll be home before tea,"

"Let her go,” Mildred called from her seat on the settee. “She’s only young once,” For once Aunt Mildred wasn’t speaking utter crap.

“I’ll be home soon,” I back out towards the front door when my mother didn’t protest to Mildred. “Before you know it,” I called finally as I shut the door behind me. I’d have to fight this battle later, but at least for now, I’d have a couple of hours without being driven up the wall.

“Your chariot, M'lady,” George called from inside his car, his head hanging out the window, I jogged over and slipped into the passenger side. “Your mum’s watching us,” I followed his line of sight to the window where my mum and Mildred had gathered to spy on us.

“And my Aunt Mildred.” George snorted turning the key in the ignition. “Where are we going?"

"No idea,"

"Want to play twenty questions?”

“Sure."

"You go first,” I moved in the seat so I was looking more directly at him. Watching as his lips pursed, before he smirked.

“Have you ever checked me out when I’ve walked away from you.” My cheeks burned a bright red. “And remember friend’s don’t lie to each other.” I leaned over the console a little.

“I am not answering that,” I gawked.

“Don’t worry, You just did,"

"My turn…. What’s your favourite eye colour,"

"Yours.” My heart melted as he looked over and smiled sending me a cheeky wink. “I like the colour of yours, What’s more important? Truth or Happiness?"

"Truth. We make our own happiness…” George nodded his head a smile pulling on his lips. “Have you ever been arrested?"

"Once.” He nodded his head, his jaw clenched a little as he spoke. “I was seventeen… Young and stupid."

"What happened?” I listened carefully to George. I’d seen many sides to him since our first night together on Ben Daniel’s roof, but this was new. A softer side, a more fragile side.

“This was when I was dating Laura Francis, you remember, her and Mason and Taylor?” He gave me a quick sideways glance, waiting for an indication I’d remembered his friends.

“Yeah,"

"We were out one night in Cambridge before we were eighteen mind you,” He cleared his throat as he thought about this next words, “We’d all been drinking with Mason’s older brother and his friends, so we were smashed, and we went to this club,” He cleared his throat again, His eyes narrowed as he watched the road, “I started a fight and a lot of stuff got broken, we all got arrested."

"Why’d you start a fight?"

"Laura was hooking up with another guy,"

"And you punched him.” I filled in the blanks. “And that’s how you got arrested."

"Yeah,"

"Well,” I cleared my own throat, “Laura was kind of a bitch in school, so it’s really not a big loss,” George’s lips move as laughter bubbled through.

“Only you can make me laugh over that, Y/N,” He shook his head. “What are your favourite hobbies?” I ran a hand through my hair, using the minute to digest the story George had told me,

“I like photography and writing.”

“I do always see you writing in your diary?” He looked across at me as we pulled to a stop. “What are you writing about?”

“Things,"

"Am I one of them?"

"What a thing?"

"Something you write about?"

"You’re in my life aren’t you?"

"Yes,"

"So yes, you are"

"Will you show me one day?"

"Maybe one day.” I nodded my head, I had no intent to show him, Diary.

“How about some food?” He pulled into the car park of the McDonalds we’d wasted hours in the night we’d met. “Is that?” His eyes narrowed as he leant forward on the steering wheel, squinting out into the sun. “No fucking way,” I followed his eyes to where he was looking. Standing beside a shitty old maroon car was Julian and Sarah.

“Julian,"

"And stalker Sarah,” George quipped. “They’ve seen us,” Julian had stood up straighter, nodding his head towards George’s car.

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Alright,” George cleared his throat and turned, his hand went to the back of my headrest, as I turned to face him. “We’re doing this,” He nodded. "We're doing this." He repeated without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips touching mine. His other hand ran up and grabbed my face, holding me in place. His tongue traced my bottom lip urging mine to open when I did our tongues touched. He pulled away lips going to my neck. “Y/N.” I grabbed onto his face and pulled him back up, reattaching our lips again. My hands left his face and went to his shirt, lifting it up as he pulled me over the console and onto his lap. I grabbed his shirt and lifted it up and over his head throwing it in the back seat. My lips went to his neck as he grabbed onto the handle for the seat, letting it fall backwards so we had more room. “Y/N, we need to stop.” George grabbed my face holding it gently. “Believe me, I’m a guy, and I don’t want to, but if we don't…” I nodded my head, opening the door and slipping out. I straightened my clothes and watched as George got out and pulled a shirt on.

“Y/N,” Her voice called across the car park, “Is that you?” I looked at George as Sarah called out to us, “Y/N Y/L/N,"

"George,” I groaned, “Can’t we do a drive-through order?"

"Not after than show,” He chuckled, fixing his shirt. “C'mon, we’ll just ignore her.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the doors. Sarah and Julian watched us as we neared them.

“So you two are a thing, huh?” Julian’s voice called as we passed. “Enjoy the slutty sloppy seconds MacKay,” My feet stilled, George’s hand squeezed mine.

“No, You know what,” I growled turning around. I stalked up to Julian and slapped him across the face, “How dare you,” I screamed. “You fucked this up Julian, you cheated on me with her,” I hissed at Sarah who’d slunk back. “So don’t think you can go around, accusing me of being a slut,” My eyes turned to slits. “You didn’t fuck me, and I’m sure if you did I wouldn’t have been able to feel it,"

"Fuck,” I heard George whisper under his breath.

“So next time you try and accuse me of being a slut because I’ve moved on, have a look back and think why that’s happened, you small cock fuck,” I turned on my heel and walked back to George,

“Y/N Y/L/N, I may just be in love with you,"

#Dear Diary #george mackay #George MacKay Imagine #dean charles chapman #Harry Styles #Harry Styles imagine

[keelywolfe]

FIC:  Someone to Drive ch.3 (standalone)

Summary: The road trip continues!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Melancholy, Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Developing Relationship

Part 1 | Part 2

~*~

Read Part 3 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Learning to sleep whenever and however he could was a skill Edge picked up when he was still a child living on the streets of New Home. If he needed any proof that he was getting out of practice, waking up stiff and aching in the back of his car certainly qualified. Dawn sunlight was pouring in through the side window, muted through the tinted glass and Edge bit back a groan as he struggled to sit up despite his grumbling joints.

Next to him, Stretch was still asleep, his face scrunching unhappily at the disturbance. He looked so very young, the circles under his sockets finally diminishing. Edge didn’t question the absurd tenderness welling in his soul. He only tucked the blanket closer around Stretch before opening the side door and sliding out to the pavement.

At this hour, there were only a few other cars around them and Edge took the time to go into the rest area to the bathrooms. He splashed cold water on his face, ignored the startled curse of the man who came out of one of the stalls and caught sight of him.

There were several vending machines and Edge dug out enough change to purchase two cups of coffee, watching the cup drop down to fill with steaming brew. It smelled like burnt rubber and tasted nearly the same. Edge drank half his cup anyway on his way back out to the car.

Stretch was awake or something like it, sitting up with the tangle of blankets in his lap as he yawned and scratched away any sleepy itches. The fly of his pants was still open and there was sliver of pale bone visible above the blankets, the curve of an iliac crest and lower. Edge discretely looked away. As easy as it had been to fall into each other the night before, any implied permissions evaporated in the glaring light of day. He waited as Stretch gathered himself and straightened his clothes. When he was slightly less disheveled, he turned to Edge and his eye lights brightened as he caught sight of the coffee.

“is that drinkable?” He nodded hopefully at the cup.

“Barely,” Edge said and held it out. The tarry aftertaste didn’t seem to bother Stretch, he drained the cup and licked the rim. The sight of his bright orange tongue made warmth stir in Edge’s soul along with memory and he coughed to conceal it, sliding into the driver’s side seat.

Stretch didn’t bother getting out, instead crawling over the middle console with his shoes in hand, knees and elbows bumping as he settled into the passenger’s side. Normally it would have irritated Edge, he couldn’t say why it didn’t this time. Stretch folded his long legs into the footwell, awkwardly curling up to slide on his shoes and watched curiously as Edge opened the GPS app on his phone.

“we headed someplace specific?” Stretch asked. It was the closest they’d come so far to discussing a destination. He didn’t seem terribly concerned about it.

“We are,” Edge focused on the rearview mirror as he backed out.

“huh, must’ve been some dreams last night if they gave you directions.”

The tone was light, teasing. Once, there might have been a veiled insult in those words. Or maybe not, maybe it was only Edge, who was so ready for abuse to be hurled his way when they first came to the surface that he interpreted far too much as a slight. “No dreams. I simply don’t plan on sleeping in the car again tonight.”

Stretch hummed agreeably and settled into his seat. He didn’t ask where and Edge didn’t offer, only pulled out onto the highway with the soothing voice of Siri guiding him.

He did have a destination in mind. As he was leaving the rest area, Edge had walked past a wall of brochures, bright advertisements for sightseeing and overpriced entertainment. He might have ignored them entirely, except for one with oversized letters that caught his eye, a tourist town that purported to be Monster-friendly. A quick google search confirmed it. It seemed as good a place as any to stop and better than some.

There were no games today, only the radio playing and Stretch occasionally singing along, louder than he had the day before as if he was less concerned with Edge’s reaction. Perhaps that was a reasonable assumption to make, considering the night before. Edge still didn’t know what to make of it and he was reluctant to ask, to do anything that ruin the easy camaraderie of the drive.

It didn’t have to mean anything, it would hardly be his first one night stand, only his first with someone whose name he was certain of. Better not to think of it right now, something that proved more difficult than he’d expected.

When they stopped for gas, Stretch went into the station for snacks and while he was gone, Edge took a moment to tidy the back of the car, putting the seats up and folding the blanket. He caught a whiff of sweetness as he folded it and banishing the flood of memory was not made easier by Stretch coming back out of the station at precisely that moment with a plastic bag swinging from his long fingers. He’d stripped off his sweatshirt earlier and was only wearing a white undershirt, the outline of his ribcage visible through the thin cotton. They’d been unseen last night in the dark of the car, learned only by touch, glossy smooth and delicate, and the sound Stretch made when the cartilage between his ribs and his sternum was gently teased—

Edge swallowed hard and looked away, focusing far too much on folding the blanket precisely. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed Stretch’s attractiveness, but it was the first time noticing came with possibility.

Stretch didn’t seem to notice his attempt at distraction. Nor did he notice the stares of the Humans as he sang out, “got the goods, edgelord, water, juice, and the best snackies. got you a better coffee, too, just how you like it, black as your—” he faltered, and Edge knew without it being spoken what he intended to say: as black as your soul. Nothing more than a flippant remark, he’d heard Humans say the same thing with casual disregard to the importance souls to Monsters. Stretch was not ignorant to their importance; he should know better.

It was a fast way to cool the faint flush of his arousal, Edge thought absently as he finished folding the blanket. Stretch wasn’t silent long, he rallied quickly, instead finishing with, “—as a burnt marshmallow in a power outage.”

His smile was easy as he held out cup. His eye lights were not, overlarge and anxious, afraid that he’d broken the peaceful spell between them.

Edge took the cup from him and said lightly, “I feel less like that’s a simile and more like one of your cooking attempts.”

Stretch’s laugh was tinged with relief. “eh, they taste better burnt, anyway. especially if you don’t use scented candles, believe me, no one likes ‘fresh linen’ marshmallows, and i mean nobody.”

Crisis averted, they both got back into the car and headed out, the GPS guiding their path. Edge’s first sip of coffee was a pleasant surprise, particularly for being from a gas station. It tasted as if it came from a fresh pot, one made as recently as five minutes ago. As if someone requested it fresh and there were possibilities there, too, not as tempting as the ones the night before, but still. Edge didn’t think about them too closely, not now, and when a song came up on the radio that he knew, he tentatively joined Stretch in singing along to it.

His voice wasn’t anything as good, but Stretch’s widening grin said that he didn’t mind, the two of them joining in on the chorus on how they were going to ride the highway all night long.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #standalone

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 93

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 21 (Part 3)

Zheng Yan returns to the rear court stables at the palace on horseback. By the time he dismounts, it’s dark and murky outside, already close to the twilight hour, and a drizzle has begun to fall. Cai Yan is having dinner, with Lang Junxia sitting nearby.

“So?” Cai Yan asks.

“I spoke with Wu Du.” Zheng Yan sits down as well behind another table in the room. He picks up a cup filled with cold tea and takes a sip. “From what I can surmise, he probably doesn’t want to join the Eastern Palace. I already brought Benxiao back to him.”

Cai Yan doesn’t say anything, just keeps silently chewing his food.

“There’s a young man living in Wu Du’s house.” Zheng Yan adds, “Name’s Wang Shan — must have been the special envoy Chancellor Mu sent to Tongguan. If Your Highness intends to show Wu Du favour and give him this opportunity, you’ll need to devote some energy to this young man.”

Cai Yan hums an affirmative. Outside, a guard announces, “Your Highness, he’s here.”

“Tell him to please come in,” Cai Yan says.

Hearing Cai Yan use the word “please”, Lang Junxia turns his attention to the door with a slight frown. There’s a man standing there; emaciated bag-of-bones thin, around thirty-something, with malevolent eyes and rough skin. Dressed in a clean robe made out of peasant-cloth, his face covered with dark bruises, he comes into the room on silent feet, so briskly that he brings up a breeze in his wake.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” the man says, and with a flap of his sleeves he gets down on his knees to kowtow at Cai Yan.

“You didn’t tell me that he’s been pardoned too,” Lang Junxia says in a cold voice.

Contrarily, Zheng Yan already knew, so when he sees Feng he merely smiles without a word.

“And now you know, Wuluohou Mu,” Zheng Yan says to Lang Junxia. “His Highness is such a caring person. He was so worried you’d get angry and that’s bad for your health, you know.”

Lang Junxia ignores Zheng Yan’s taunt, and turns his gaze on Cai Yan. Cai Yan feels extremely awkward, and he coughs. “Feng, rise. That seat is for you.”

Cai Yan points at a seat to his right, placed at the end. Feng then salutes both Lang Junxia and Zheng Yan, “I’m the guilty official, Feng. Greetings, my lords.”

“All are guilty to a degree,” Cai Yan says, “Otherwise there’d be no need for virtuous sages. Since you’ve joined the Eastern Palace, work hard. Make each day count.”

Feng gives him a slight smile. Cai Yan bestows him a cup of wine, and Feng takes little sips from it. Outside the hall, a west wind starts to blow. A susurrus chorus of falling leaves whip by, filling the courtyard with what looks like blood.

An autumn breeze sends the leaves rustling, and the Silver River is glittering above. A dazzling array of lanterns has been lit all through the chancellor’s estate, shining on the banquet tables in the pavilion. Performers have been hired to put on a shadow puppet show, with music on the qin overlaid with lines of lyrics; graceful, nimble shadows play on a screen to tell the story of a wolf man in Jiangzhou during the Yu dynasty.2 Male crabs weighing half a catty each and female crabs just barely under that are served at the table, waiting in steamer baskets.

Mu Qing is watching the puppet show with quite a lot of interest, while Duan Ling is taking apart crabs for Mu Qing and they occasionally exchange a word or two. Wu Du on the other hand is picking out crab roe and meat with his chopsticks, setting it aside for Duan Ling, so that he wouldn’t go without eating as he’s busy waiting on Mu Qing.

“Is that for me?” Duan Ling says with a smile.

Wu Du gestures, go ahead and eat it, and Duan Ling takes it for his own.

“Sorry I’m late!” Mu Kuangda says with a smile. “With the matter of the capital’s relocation just settled, a lot of things are still up in the air and it’s taken up quite a bit of time.”

Everyone rises from their seats at once. Chang Liujun and Chang Pin, his martial and literati left and right hand, trails into the room behind him. It’s a clear show of respect for Wu Du.

“No harm done,” Wu Du says, “we were just watching a show. The wait wasn’t at all dreary.”

Everyone greets Mu Kuangda individually before Mu Kuangda says to Chang Pin, “Fei Hongde has pulled yet another vanishing act. If I only knew I’d have made Wang Shan wrap himself around his leg and brought him back here even if he had to drag him.”3

Everyone in the room starts to laugh. Mu Kuangda tells them, “Eat. Don’t worry about me. This banquet has always been an excuse to give everyone a nice hot meal in the name of welcoming you two back.”

Duan Ling smiles, “I presumed you would be too busy, Chancellor Mu, so of course I didn’t dare come yammering at you as soon as I got back.”

Mu Kuangda nods, and praises him, “You two did an excellent job. It is a great weight off my mind, and nothing should go awry in Tongguan for at least ten years. I brought it up in front of His Majesty today, and His Majesty quite appreciates your skills, Wu Du.”

Wu Du merely hms coolly before he says, “It’s all thanks to you, Grand Chancellor.”

The people present in the hall seem to have sensed the change within Wu Du as well, and they glance his way without saying a word. Chang Pin is the only one who smiles and says, “I often thought about travelling at Master Fei’s side when I was young, but since our separation ten years ago I haven’t heard from him. It’s truly fate at work that our young friend Wang Shan managed to meet up with him.”

Duan Ling says, “Master Fei is in excellent health.”

All previous communication Duan Ling had with Mu Kuangda was by written missive, and now, narrating the detailed account of what they experienced from the moment they reached Tongguan until the final battle, it sounds truly thrilling. But the credit for most of the strategising had been placed squarely on Wu Du in order to stop Mu Kuangda and Chang Pin from getting suspicious. Mu Kuangda is so absorbed he keeps nodding from time to time, while Chang Pin grabs a crab and starts eating, his gaze not on Duan Ling but on the puppet show.

Once Duan Ling finishes explaining the rough outline of what took place on their trip, Wu Du casually adds a few more details about the defences in Tongguan, as well as the opposing side’s strength and so on.

At the end Mu Kuangda says, “Wu Du, it seems you do have quite the talent in strategy, formation, leading an assault, and guerrilla warfare.”

“Probably learned it from General Zhao, right?” Chang Liujun, who has been standing to one side, says, “I suppose we should call that a swan song now.”

Mu Qing reads the words between Chan Liujun’s lines and huffs out a laugh. “Pfft!”

Duan Ling glances over at Wu Du, but Wu Du no longer places any importance on Chang Liujun’s provocations. He simply replies with a humble nod, and says, “It’s better than following a master for years on end without learning anything at all. I concede.”

It is Duan Ling, this time, who nearly spits out his food laughing. Wu Du hands another crab carapace full of meat and roe to Duan Ling, and says to Mu Kuangda, “I was just thinking that since the exams are coming up soon, if we didn’t hurry back it’d get in the way of Shan’er’s studies, and rushed back as soon as possible.”

“You’re a family man now,” Mu Kuangda says to Wu Du. “Seems the crown prince really does recognise your worth, though. When you get home you should really consider it.”

And so Wu Du stops talking.

“Speaking of which,” Chang Pin says, sounding rather amused, “The estate is about to write up invitations in preparation for the special exams taking place in the beginning of spring next year. We at the estate are exempt from having to take the provincial qualifying exams, and naturally with our young friend Wang Shan’s essay writing, he shouldn’t have to wait another three years — there’s no harm in him taking the metropolitan examinations directly. But we’ll need Master Wu to give us details as to the circumstances of his birth so we can write the name card in order to get him officially named under a teacher.”

Alarm jolts through Duan Ling’s heart, as he hasn’t expected Chang Pin to pull something like this. Duan Ling can feel that Chang Pin does have a mind to figure him out, but whether or not he suspects something odd in his identity — well that he can’t tell for sure.

But Wu Du has already thought of a way to counter this. He says to Duan Ling, “What’s your dad’s name again? I used to just call him Dage, Dage day in and day out, and now I can’t actually remember what his real name was.”

“Wang Sheng,” Duan Ling replies.

“Wang Sheng.” Wu Du heaves a sigh, and pauses briefly to sort out his thoughts. “Wang Shan lost his mother at a young age, and his dad was an apothecary who saw patients on occasion as a doctor. We met in Xunbei, and he often helped me track down rare ingredients. Wang Shan travelled all over the continent so he knew more than most other children his age anyway; his dad mentioned entrusting him to me more than once so he wouldn’t have to spend his life on the road. But back then I was living under another’s roof, I could barely take care of myself, so I didn’t have the energy to worry about those two.”

Duan Ling recalls his father. Even though Wu Du has fabricated the circumstances of his birth, bits of it here and there match up to his memories, and he can’t help remembering the past; all of a sudden he’s filled with emotions.

“A man who practiced medicine, who did good work and accumulated good karma to shade his descendents.” Chang Pin says, “Your dad must have been a good man.”

Duan Ling gives him a nod, and Wu Du starts to smile. He pats Duan Ling’s on the shoulder, and takes his hand, wrapping his own around it, fingers caressing his. A tenderness flows forth in Duan Ling’s heart, for he knows Wu Du isn’t putting on an act; he really is trying to encourage him.

“Kid’s always been charming.” Wu Du turns to the party and says, “People of all trades — soldiers, smiths, Cuju players, spirit mediums, tailors, opera singers — would choose to pass on some of their skills to him out of gratitude to his dad. As for how much he’s learned, that I don’t rightly know. There is greatness in his fate according to the fortune teller, and I’ve been told he’s not fit for marriage4 according to his father, and he said Wang Shan should just stay with me.5 As for his future, he left it up to me.”

“Then let’s hear it from you,” Mu Kuangda says, and he turns to Chang Pin. “Put him down as from a line of physicians, the Wangs, ancestral hometown of Xunbei. Physician is a proper vocation. We can leave out the rest.”

Chang Pin says smilingly, “Your new line of work can’t bring back the dead so it’s hardly the same, but instead of treating the ill you can treat the state — that’s not such a bad thing.”

Now those words have truly elevated Duan Ling too much, and he hurriedly expresses his gratitude towards Chang Pin and Mu Kuangda. Mu Kuangda casually pours a cup of wine at his table and brings it to Wu Du. “Have some mulled wine. It’ll help settle the coldness that comes with eating crab.6 You’re wounded, I know, so just stay in the estate and recuperate for the next little while. Once you figure out what you want I’ll give you more work.”

Wu Du knows that the crown prince has also raised his desire to recruit him in front of Mu Kuangda, and if it’s advantageous to the Mus, Mu Kuangda will of course want him to join the Eastern Palace. This way, no matter what happens, as long as he’s willing to inform the Mus, it would be akin to the Mus having a spy in the palace, and they’ll constantly have a grasp of what the crown prince is planning. And on top of that this spy would be Wu Du — master of poisons.

But what Duan Ling has in mind is another thing entirely. The crown prince has already tried to recruit Wu Du once, and if he believed in Wu Du’s loyalty, then leaving him in the chancellor’s estate as a henchman of Mu Kuangda’s would be far more beneficial — so why has he changed his mind now?

“I can’t drink anymore.” Wu Du waves the wine off. “This wine is really strong.”

Wu Du hands the leftover half cup of wine to Duan Ling, and Duan Ling drinks it. Mu Kuangda and Chang Pin will need to have a meeting later on in the evening, so Duan Ling and Wu Du cut the night short and head back to their house to sleep.

As they walk through the corridor that leads out of the Chancellor’s estate, Wu Du suddenly says, “Look.”

A river of silver cuts across the horizon, just visible above the alleyway between two roofs. They stop, both remembering the night of the Seventh of Seventh.

“Somehow I’ve forgotten to celebrate your birthday with you,” Wu Du says to Duan Ling. “I was fighting that day and forgot all about it.”

“My birthday is in the twelfth month,” Duan Ling whispers, “so let’s celebrate then.”

Duan Ling and Wu Du return to their rooms. They’ve both had quite a bit of wine, and Wu Du falls heavily onto the bed, staring at Duan Ling through drunken eyes.

Duan Ling can’t be bothered to wash up and change, and simply lies down next to Wu Du.

“Do you want to join the Eastern Palace?” Duan Ling asks.

There’s a brief silence before Wu Du answers, “Maybe I’ll be able to find some evidence regarding Wuluohou Mu and the crown prince.”

“I’d rather you stay at my side, and I don’t want us to part either.”

“Then I won’t go.” Raising a hand, Wu Du gives Duan Ling a light pat on the shoulder. He turns onto his side. They lie facing each other on the bed on their sides, looking into the other’s eyes.

“There’s still time. Chancellor Mu will ask you again after the metropolitan exams.”

Wu Du’s brows lightly furrow. “How’d you know that?”

“He needs to make sure you remain loyal to him, thus he’ll keep me in the estate and use me to control you.”

It becomes clear to Wu Du all at once. Now that he thinks about it, that’s highly probable. Mu Kuangda can tell the bond between them has strengthened, and all he has to do is guide Duan Ling, assist him, and take him in as a student. And in exchange Wu Du would become a retainer in the Eastern Palace, becoming an unseen agent Mu Kuangda keeps near the crown prince.

“But I haven’t been able to figure it all out yet.” Duan Ling is still a bit drunk. He puts his hand on Wu Du’s face. “Why is the crown prince in such a hurry to recruit you? His attitude isn’t the same as the way it was before.”

But Wu Du is no longer listening. There’s a redness in his cheeks from drinking, and his eyes are full of Duan Ling. There seems to be water in Duan Ling’s eyes, as bright as a pond reflecting a starry sky.

“Duan Ling.”

“Hm?” Duan Ling suddenly feels that if he has someone like Wu Du at his side forever, that’s a rather nice way to live. Just as Wu Du said in front of Mu Kuangda, he can’t get married — and the truth is, Duan Ling doesn’t want to get married either, otherwise his many secrets will bring them nothing but danger.

“In the future you’ll be the emperor. Don’t take what I said in front of Chancellor Mu today seriously. Someday, you’ll marry a beautiful Crown Princess-consort, and she’ll become your empress. You’ll have sons, grandsons …”

“I won’t marry.”

“You’ll have to remember me.” Wu Du says, slurring with drink, “remember that, tonight, you and I are lying on a bed in the chancellor’s estate …”

Duan Ling repeats, “I won’t.”

He’s already very sleepy. In his drowsiness a vague idea surfaces — he thinks of how the crown prince probably believes Mu Kuangda is about to poison him, and realises that he’s not safe, serves him right that he has to live with his heart constantly on edge like that; he thinks of how, just as his father had told him, a lot of people are going to stumble over each other to give him everything, but he still strongly believes that if someone wants to give him everything, of course he should give everything of himself to that someone in return …

In Wu Du’s embrace, he falls asleep.

Slowly, Wu Du closes his eyes, and with the faint scent of osmanthus mulled wine between his lips, he lowers his head and presses a light kiss to the bridge of Duan Ling’s nose.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

For more about the wolf man, read Yingnu. All I’ll tell you here is that it’s a tragedy involving treachery, poison, and betrayal. (Inappropriate, in other words.) ↩︎

This is your reminder that titles in the mouse-overs can be found on the reference page. ↩︎

It is generally believed that someone who’s meant for greatness tends to be a hex on those related to them, both by blood and by marriage. ↩︎

This 100% sounded like stay with him for life as in married. ↩︎

“Coldness” is just a TCM concept, and eating crab brings “coldness” which is why it’s usually served with ginger tea. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things