#i might have spent the past month and a half SOMEWHAT obsessed :)

[franeridart]

anyway octopath

#my sketches #octopath traveler #octopath traveler 2 #long time no fanart #have some sketches no one asked for to fix that #i might have spent the past month and a half SOMEWHAT obsessed :) #that temenos............ you know how in the epilogue he has that line #I don’t know how it is in eng cause i played in ita with jap voices but #the don’t dirty their names with your voice one #nnnnggggghhhhhhhhhhh #he makes me so sad i love him sm ;;;; my starter my beloved ;;;;;;

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls Extra 2

- ao3 -

“Jingyi?” Lan Qiren repeated, looking down at the child tucked into his arms. “A good name.”

“Isn’t it?” Lan Yueheng said, beaming. “A-Xin thought of it!”

“You don’t say,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “Just the way your wife named all the last six?”

Lan Yueheng grinned bashfully. “She’s better at it!”

Lan Qiren shook his head, amused, and tried to offer the child back to his father.

“No, no, you should hold him longer. Babies are calming, and you’ve been having bad dreams recently, right?”

“Babies are not calming,” Lan Qiren said. There was a limit to how many times someone could play the same joke on him, and yes, he was mentally glaring at Wen Ruohan, Lao Nie, and Cangse Sanren as well while he thought that. “You’ve had six already, you should know that. Can we at least agree that this is the last one?”

Lan Yueheng and Zhang Xin had put off having children to help Lan Qiren raise Lan Xichen and then Lan Wangji, once he’d come around, no matter how much Lan Qiren had argued with them to the contrary. They’d laughed him off, saying it was nothing, but he’d been terribly afraid that they’d miss the window for it and end up childless, with no one to sweep their graves on Qingming except his nephews, and that in the end they’d blame him for it.

Naturally, despite his fears, it turned out in the end that they hadn’t had any trouble at all. Their first had been born when Lan Wangji had been three and Lan Xichen six, and they’d had six more after that, one after another like a bunch of maniacs – a girl, two boys, another girl, and then the twins a few years later, at the very end, just when everyone had thought they were already done. Lan Wangji had already been nearly fifteen, then.

Of course, the whole bit about ‘just when everyone had thought they were already done’ being about the twins was rather outdated: that was before the arrival of little Jingyi.

Nearly ten years after all the rest, even the twins; a belated and extremely unexpected child, as if Zhang Xin and Lan Yueheng and the heavens had all conspired to make fun of Lan Qiren for his previous worries. Zhang Xin had already been in her forties, yet she’d gotten through the entire process with a smile and no apparent discomfort, puttering around in her garden and managing her storehouses and scolding her children without any disruption. Not even the pain of labor would bring her down, even if she did have a tendency to mangle Lan Qiren’s hand and shout his ears to deafness in the process.

Lan Qiren’s ears and hand, because he’d helped oversee the births of his nephews – Han Kexin had resolutely refused the aid of any competent doctor, male or female, mockingly reminding him that she was supposed to be in seclusion, so he’d learned up on the basics himself while retaining the option to call in a proper doctor if something went wrong – and since he’d managed it well enough, naturally Zhang Xin wanted the same, impertinent brat that she was. And of course, she wasn’t going to hurt her husband’s precious hands in the process, never mind that he’d been the one to cause it in the first place.

At least they’d all been more or less easy births.

Little Lan Jingyi had been the easiest of the whole lot. Zhang Xin had barely made herself comfortable before he was coming, and before Lan Qiren had even really accepted that he was coming, he was already here.

Look at the rush to get going, as if he’s afraid to miss out on all the fun if he’s not here! Zhang Xin had laughed. He’s going to want to be part of part of everything!

“Last one, I swear!” Lan Yueheng promised cheerfully. “Anyway, we needed one around that age – that way he can be friends with Wangji’s boy! You know, the one he’s raising with Wei Wuxian, the one who used to be Wen sect.”

Lan Qiren snorted. As if he didn’t know the one in question. Wen Ruohan had been altogether too pleased to offer up some of his own blood to join the Lan sect when it turned out that Wei Wuxian had gotten attached to the orphan child of Wen Ruohan’s kinsman – eager as he ever was, really, to entangle himself irrevocably into Lan Qiren’s life, as if he still thought there was a chance, however remote, that Lan Qiren would find some reason to reject him or cut him out of his life once again. And never mind that it’d been years and years since anything like that had even come closer to happening!

“Yueheng-xiong,” he said patiently. “Mathematics are one of your favorite subjects, so I know you know that that means that your son will be friends with my grandnephew.”

Lan Yueheng scratched his nose. “Not your grandnephew yet,” he said, grinning; he didn’t look even remotely ashamed of it. “Wei Wuxian’s the one that adopted him, and Wangji’s not married him yet!”

“He’s working on it.”

Wen Ruohan’s “help” – in the sense of agreeing to let the Lan sect adopt little A-Yuan and not allowing Wei Wuxian to do it on his own – was probably doing more to impede it than anything else.

Lan Yueheng sniggered. “Should I offer to help?”

“Most certainly not. Save your fireworks and flares for the actual marriage.” Lan Qiren rubbed his forehead. “Cangse Sanren is being deliberately obnoxious about negotiations over it, I swear.”

“Cangse Sanren is always obnoxious, Qiren-xiong,” Lan Yueheng reminded him. “Always – and it’s only gotten worse since she had her doom stolen away by Lao Nie.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lan Qiren grumbled. He didn’t even want to know how the two of them had managed to swap fates, or what the consequences of it would be in the end. For some reason, Wen Ruohan seemed oddly insistent about blaming Lao Nie’s second wife, despite her having been perfectly nice as far as Lan Qiren could tell, if somewhat strangely obsessed with food. Possibly he was just annoyed that poor Wen Zhulio had saved Cangse Sanren’s life a dozen times over so far and yet Lao Nie was getting the credit.

At any rate, neither of them had died so far, which was all to the good.

“I’m getting to the point that I think looking for her master and asking her for permission might be the easier course,” he added irritably. “The boys want to get married! What’s the point of tormenting them over the details?”

“Please don’t go out looking for an immortal mountain, Qiren-xiong,” Lan Yueheng said, laughing, and finally condescended to pluck little Lan Jingyi out of his arms. “I’m going to put him to bed. You should rest, too. No more work today! And only good dreams!”

Lan Qiren shook his head and watched him walk away.

For a moment, the image was replaced with another, a remnant from the terrible dream he had been having the past few nights, the one that still lingered: Lan Yueheng, still laughing but walking with a limp, his right foot gone from beneath the knee – the one he’d lost when the Cloud Recesses had burned, and because of the mess that had ensued it hadn’t been treated for far too long, becoming infected; every year thereafter he had gotten sick from a recurrent and worsening illness, driving Lan Qiren and Zhang Xin both crazy with worry.

Lan Qiren’s chest hurt just thinking about it, his own injuries aching, the remnants of the vicious wounds from the terrible beating Wen Xu had ordered with his eyes curved in a mean smile as he watched them try to break Lan Qiren’s meridians out of sheer spite; one day, in that horrible future foretold by the dream, Zhang Xin would worry too much and fail to pay attention, walking on something she shouldn’t and poisoning her blood, and when she went Lan Yueheng would follow her away, the two of them going side-by-side into the next world as they had gone through this one, leaving Lan Qiren to raise their youngest child the rest of the way himself. No matter how tired he was, he wouldn’t put that burden on their other children, all of them abruptly orphaned, the final belated victims of the desperate war against the Wen sect to stop their tyrannical conquest…

Lan Qiren shook his head abruptly, clearing it.

What am I thinking, he wondered. There’s no war against the Wen sect – if da-ge ever got something like a war of conquest into his head, I’d scold him until my face turned blue. Anyway, even if he did do something like that, A-Xu would never dream of ordering someone to beat me! Didn’t I half-raise him and his little brother both, taught them swordsmanship and music and ethics even as Wen Ruohan taught Xichen and Wangji arrays and talismans and how to understand people?

Anyway, A-Xu’s a sweet boy, underneath his superficial arrogance; he knows better than to put on a face like that in front of me…nor is there anything wrong with Lan Yueheng’s foot, or Zhang Xin’s blood, for that matter. Lan Jingyi’s going to grow up in a large family, loud and screeching and thoroughly inappropriate, and unlike my dream his parents will be at the head of the table to oversee the whole thing.

It was just a bad dream.

Lan Qiren shook his head once again.

Maybe Lan Yueheng was right, he reflect. He ought to get some rest – and not just today. After all, he was already half-retired, with Lan Xichen taking over more and more of the tasks of sect leader and excelling in them; Lan Qiren already spent one month out of every three out of the Cloud Recesses, whether wandering around the cultivation world playing his music or visiting with friends and acquaintances, pretending all the while to ignore the Wen sect and Lan sect and Nie sect guards being too busy socializing with each other to remember that they were supposed to be hidden guards.

He could go again now, even. Wen Ruohan had said something about Lao Nie visiting the Nightless City, the grin on his face leaving little question as to how he planned to spend the time with him; by now they should have worn each other out and were probably capable of something resembling human speech.

Yes, he should go visit them, he thought, and realized once again that he was happy – truly happy, not just content. He would go visit them, and complain about the prospect of yet another of Lan Yueheng’s brood running rampage through his classrooms for however long it took to educate them.

It seemed like each one was louder than the next, but at least little Lan Jingyi, whether in a rush or otherwise, and even in conjunction with Wei Wuxian’s little A-Yuan or Jin Zixuan’s little A-Ling, couldn’t possibly be more disruptive than the twins.

That was simply impossible.

Right?

#mdzs #lan qiren #lan jingyi #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

[ackermanshoe]

March comes in like a lion, it's Portrayal of toxic & healthy relationship and how to compares rivamika + Ereh

Que the longest title everr 😌✨

So before I start on the actual analysis, I recently started watching March comes in like a lion instead of doing my assignments and I half way through season 2. For those of you who haven't watched it, it might be a spoilers so beware of that.

In this analysis I'll be comparing the similarities I found between Rei, Hina and Kyoko.

So watching any anime after being do emotionally attached to rivamika it's only natural that I compare them to the characters with even the tiniest bit similarities in their dynamic but Rei and hina's relationship jump in episode 4 of season 2 really caught me off guard and I was like omg?? Rivamika?? How do I make this about them 😩

Anyway so a little background on Rei's relationship with both girls Kyoko and Hina ( Hinata ). Firstly, i subconsciously placed Rei has Mikasa, kyoko has Eren and Hina as Levi, why? You will know on a minute. Rei is a depressed kid who has known only one way of life and that's through shogi games and after his parents death ( cough cough ) he was taken in by a old friend ( I think ) of his dad's who was also obsessed with shogi. Kyoko is the biological daughter of this man who has "adopted" Rei and later on Rei was came to know Hina and her sisters, they were super supportive of him from the start and having lost family members themselves they related to him on a personal level.

So you see why Eren and mikasa's dynamic matches with Rei and Kyoko and not only as "step siblings" it's also the fact that Rei became somewhat obsessed with her through the time he had spent over at their house, it's toxic and it's been showcased that way ever since kyoko was introduced into the series. Rei thought of her when he heard the word "love" and he even admitted to the fact that having her around is toxic and yet he can't push her away. He said he does not want to stop hearing her voice even tho she , herself is in love with a much older man who is married. Everytime she showed up to his bedroom uninvited and slept next to him my mind went "he is in love with her and their relationship is so toxic why does the author keep bringing her into his life?" Or "girl get the fuck away from him".

Without even thinking too much deep into their physical connection I already knew I would be able to related this dynamic to Eren and Mikasa. Although this series gives us much more depth into the main characters views since it's narrated from his own perspective, and the fact that he metaphorically compared his feelings of being lost and sadness helps me as an audience to understand what's happening much much easier than attack on titan. I personally feel like this kind of series are usually short ( idk how long this is) because it feels like the author knows exactly what he is going for, everything is set in stone.

Going back to Rei's ( mikasa's) relationship with kyoko ( Eren ) it's much much clear how toxic it had become for him in more than just one way. And the show isn't denying Rei of his feelings towards Kyoko and it's not even attempting to distant him from her and yet you just knew there had to be someone better right? That's when they introduced Hina and Kyoko in the same episode, meeting each other and a sense of invisible rivalry gushed over them, especially Hina. She is a happy go lucky girl and extremely sensitive to things to the point it kinda annoys me everytime she bursts out crying ( but hey you can't hate a genuinely good character ).

That's where things get interesting for me maybe because I am on that Levi X Mikasa agenda all the time but just like rivamika their relationship has been portrayed as platonic for the longest time in the seaosns. If I didn't go out of way to search up who Rei falls in love with and it didn't say hina's name I probably wouldn't be making this comparison right now because who wants to have their heart broken for the 2nd time in the same fucking month 🙄.

Anyway so in this one episode Hina comes home crying because of bullying issue at school and as she runs off into the dark streets Rei chases her and eventually catching up to her takes her hand and being able to relate to her problems, comparing his younger self to her present Rei reaches out his hand and God fucking damn it he says "you saved my life..I promise I'll stay with you" ofc I'm making this post now you know the real reason 🤡.

The unseen build up that happen between them reminds me of rivamika, the Portrayal of healthy relationship is rivamika. Hina (in our case Levi ) to Rei is the voice of emotion, she speaks out the feelings that Rei has been surpassing all these years inside of him. Just like how we talked about Levi is the voice of reason, while Mikasa has the impulsive urge to act up. Just like how Levi became the perosn who reasonably always took mikasa's side, he gave her personal reasons to take Erens side everytime have an actual meaning towards the scouts / everyone , he then became someone Mikasa was able to object & voice out her opinion towards because she knew that he would response and guide her the right way and finally he became someone she was able to fully trust.

Much like Hina and Rei, when Hina cried out her heart and Rei couldn't help but go back to his past self and imagine Hina coming to him and giving him a hand, being his saviour. It's much like how Levi saw his past self in Mikasa present ( S1 ), Levi gave Mikasa the hand she needed when she didn't know she needed.

Hina despite being much younger than him, was able to make him realise that he too was shutting out his emotions and was able to let himself be free through Hina when she cried, expressing her frustrations and very human like emotions. In the forest of the giant trees when Mikasa and Levi saved Eren for the first time he told her " we got your precious friend, didn't we?" A slight wake up call he had given her for the very first time, an attack on Mikasa's ego and evoking a different emotions within her. Like telling her it's not only about Eren and getting revenge, risking your life so easily, Levi had lost his entire squad in order to protect Eren so now that he is safe they better leave now.

So the question is did Levi and Mikasa save each other?

What can I say that I haven't said already in here about these two?

"you saved my life" Rei says to Hina as he reached out her hand and the beauty of that scene was the fact that it was delicate and soft despite it not being anything romantic. Remind me of that panel of Mikasa touching Levi's shoulder. How ironic is the fact that I'm comparing Hina, a openly emotional character to Levi who is said to be the most emotional inside?

Levi physically saved Mikasa a lot of the time however emotionally Levi saved Mikasa from being selfish and from herself. What if I said and ignoring 139, that Levi was one of of the biggest reasons Mikasa took the initiative and decapitated Eren that day?

Wait why does it feel like I already said it before lol

Through Levi, Mikasa learnt to trust more, learnt that even though they gave difference not only in height, age and in how they treat Eren ( Levi with force and Mikasa with care ), Mikasa still came in terms with Levi and relied on him, shared her burden with him. I think that's the biggest character twist Mikasa had, the fact that she was ready to draw sword at anyone who treated Eren wrong and everyone was scared of her and then came the grumpy shorty who beat her beloved brother right in front of her but eventually he became the biggest form of support she had in the end. I just can not help but laugh at all the unseen development this ship has had and all the implication of Futher interaction after season 3 between them, it's really obvious they had something going on because imagine you don't talk to someone for like 3 years and suddenly when you engage in battle against , paired up with them suddenly you become the strongest duo known to humanity. +?)!#)# make it make sense.

Sooo now you see the that having toxic relationship with a partner is only natural and inevitable but growing from that, opening your eyes to those who actually care there for you is rather healthy. So moral of the story is guys make sure stick with those who tells you to stay with them, the end.

Omg guys this turned out so much longer than I intended, anyway hopefully y'all liked it. I know it's not the strongest comparison or analysis but I feel like I'm running out of words for what I want to say about rivamika it feels like I'm recycling my sentences from previous analysis over and over again because ✨ lack of content ✨ and my inability to think of something new.

Please ignore all my spelling mistakes I have decided to embrace my mistakes instead of fixing them simply because I'm too lazy 😉

💜💜💜

#rivamika #rivamikacanon #levimika #rivamika analysis #BurnTheScarfMikasa

[crowdedimagines]

Falling - Harry Styles

*obviously inspired by Falling, which i am OBSESSED with! *italics are from the past, a lot of this story will be from the past. *also, see if you catch some mini easter eggs to other songs from fine line (this wasn’t intentional, but for the timeline to work he never dated camille)

There’s no point in stopping the tears as they slowly stream down my face. As soon as I saw the tracklist to Harry’s new album I had a feeling this one would bring on the waterworks. Now that the album is officially released, I can hear what he’s been working on the past few months.

Falling.

A simple word with so much meaning behind it. It’s hard to fight off the memories of our relationship.

“-and this is the lovely, Y/n.” A friend introduces me to a small group of her friends at the party. She managed to drag me away from a conversation I was having to ‘meet some friends’. I smile and wave to all of the new faces, they go around and give me their names in return.

“Harry.” The last one speaks up, he raises his glass in a wave.

Our eyes pull together like magnets. I’m thankful for the darker lighting that is hiding the blush that creeps over my cheeks.

We all quickly dive into a conversation, everyone present being easy enough to talk to. They’re all lovely and fun people.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” I announce as I get up from my spot.

“I’ll come with, mine seems to be empty too.” Harry grins and follows me back to the bar.

We both order our drinks and wait for them to be made. It takes a while, seeing how busy it is with all of the people here, but neither Harry or I mind. We immediately jump into a new conversation ranging from music, acting, and travel.

“You’ve never been to the UK?” Harry asks, utterly shocked.

“No.” I shake my head, laughing at his appalled reaction.

“How is that even possible? You’ve never had to film over there or anything?”

“I’ve been to Italy and France, but never your neck of the woods I suppose.” I let out a laugh.

He takes a sip of his drink, neither of us have made an effort to move back to the group since receiving them. I can see my friend giving two thumbs up over Harry’s shoulder. I’m sure this was some plan of hers to try and get us to hit it off.

“Well, you tell me when you’re free and we’ll go.” He smiles, “I’ll be your tour guide.”

God, I would love to take him up on that offer.

“Aren’t you going to be awfully busy with your first solo tour?”

“Ahh, you keep up with me then?” He smirks, I’m sure he’s enjoying that little ego boost.

“Pretty hard not to.” I roll my eyes, as if the pop star was so under the radar. “I can hardly leave my apartment in New York without coming across a billboard with your face plastered on it.”

“Well I’m sorry about that, love.”

“Don’t be, it’s a nice face to look at.”

It’s my turn now to smirk and notice Harry slightly thrown off.

“Tour doesn’t start for a month, pick a date before that and we’ll go.”

“You’re putting an awful lot of faith into someone you just met a half an hour ago.”

“I have faith in you, Y/n.”

“And why should I have faith in you?” I tease, “For all I know you could be a very creepy man.”

“Hey!” He laughs, “Haven’t you ever heard of treating people with kindness?”

The first time Harry and I ever met. That first night even, I knew that he was going to mean so much. I was proven correct a few weeks later when we actually did go to London together.

“Home sweet home.”

Harry opens the door wide enough so both of us and our luggage can fit. He’s invited me to stay at his flat, claiming it’s nicer than any hotel anyway. It’s also an obvious excuse for us to spend more time together just the two of us.

“It’s awfully gloomy here, strike one for London.” I joke.

“Hey! It’s late, you can’t judge it yet! Plus we just got off of a ten hour flight, you’re not in the right headspace.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes.

Harry and I have managed to grow so close in the short amount of time we’ve known each other. We met up several more times to somewhat plan the trip, Harry helped me pack claiming he would know what I would need better than I would.

We both laughed until we were crying, trying on the various clothes from my closet. Many random gems, things I’m almost positive Harry wants to steal.

We still haven’t defined what we are. Friends is the easiest way of putting it, but it doesn’t feel quite right. We flirt constantly and were touchy with each other, but we’ve never acted on anything.

“Alright, let’s find you a room.”

Harry takes my suitcase with him as he leads me into the rest of his house. We go up to the second floor and he opens the door to a large room. It’s decorated in simple white with hints of yellow.

“Cute.” I grin looking around the room.

“Y’like it?” He almost seems nervous. Giddy like an unsure child.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

For the first time there’s an awkward pause. Just a few seconds of what to do, it’s really late and by the sounds of it we have plans for an early morning.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, H.”

Harry leaves me to my room and goes to his own, which is conveniently across the hall.  

He wasn’t lying, the next day we are up bright and early. Too early, I might add.

“Y/n.” He taunts my name on the other side of the door.

“Too early.” I grumble, my face still half smashed into a pillow. I don’t even flinch hearing the door open.

“C’mon, Y/n. If you get up now we can go out for breakfast and go to the farmers market.” I feel the bed dip as he settles on the bed.

“Why can’t I sleep in and we just eat here?” I finally turn to face where’s he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, he has an amused look on his face.

“Because I’ve been in Los Angeles for the past two months. There’s quite literally no food here.”

I let out a groan and drop my head back down.

“I’m amazed with how cute you still look while so angry and having just woken up.”

“You’re such a kiss ass.” I grumble.

“Only for you.” He lightly smacks my ass before walking back out. “Let’s go, Y/Ln.”

I get up and look out the large window to see that it’s raining, but it looks like the sun is trying to come out. I settle on a comfortable outfit, tucking my hair back into a low bun. I wash my face and throw on a pair of sunnies.

“Ready?”

I nod and we take off. We walk to a diner that Harry loves going too, he claims that he gets cravings for it when he’s back in the states. I have to say, after eating there, I understand his hype.

Once were no longer hungry, we take off for the farmer’s market.

It’s cute to say the least. We pick up some organic veggies to cook with for dinner and we find some cheese and fresh bread.

“H, look!” I cross over from the tent we had been in to the one across the street.

“They’re beautiful!” I trail my fingers across all of the different bundles of flowers.

“I almost lost you.” Harry says after catching up.

“Look at how pretty they are!” I pick up a bundle of sunflowers.

“How much?” Harry asks before handing over more than enough for them.

“Gotcha!” Harry smiles looking down at his phone. I’m sure he’s taken yet another candid picture.

“For someone who doesn’t post on social media, you take an awful lot of pictures.” I bump his shoulder as we continue walking.

“Yeah, still like to have the memories.”

Harry and I spent two more days in London exploring more of the city before we decided to take a road trip to Holmes Chapel to see where Harry grew up. It was a long drive, but it was worth it to see Harry light up.

“That’s the bakery I used to work in.” He points out the car window.

“Don’t you want to stop?” I ask, watching him drive right by it.

“No, it’s kind of become a fan beacon now.” Harry explains.

We continue to drive through the town as he points out more spots from when he grew up. Or we sit in a comfortable silence just looking out at the scenery. I don’t notice we’ve arrived somewhere until Harry puts the car in park.

“Where are we?” I ask, looking at the house in front of us. It’s grown dark out, but the house looks warm and inviting.

“My mum’s house.” He quickly gets out of the car before I can ask a question.

“Harry!” I roll my eyes, following him to the door.

“What?” He grins looking over his shoulder. He knocks and it doesn’t take long for an answer to follow.

“Harry!” She pulls him in for a hug, the woman I can only assume is his mother.

They talk softly to each other and I feel as if I’m invading a very private moment.

“You’ve brought someone home?” She shouts with an excited voice. Without a pause, she pulls me in for an equally tight hug. She knocks the air out of my lungs, but I let out a laugh.

“In all these years, Harry’s never brought a girl home!”

“Mum!” Harry groans, a pink color taking over.

“Come in come in! I’m just finishing up supper.”

She disappears further into the house, once Harry and I step in, I can feel the warmth of the home and smell whatever she’s cooking.

“You brought me home to meet your mom!” I tease, turning to smack Harry lightly on the chest.

“No, she would just be upset if I was here and didn’t see here before leaving for a world tour.”

Bullshit.

“Harry, you’ve never brought a girl home before.” I smirk.

“Alright alright, I really like you. As if it wasn’t obvious enough before.” Harry admits, he successfully knocks the smile clear off my face.

“Are you going to say anything?” He asks, suddenly twisting the right on his fingers around out of nerves.

“I like you too.” I smile, “Duh.”

“Thank god.” He sighs, pulling me in for a hug.

“Alright, supper is- oh! You’re having a moment, I’ll go.” Anne rushes back to the kitchen. It would take a blind man to miss the smile and happy dance at seeing us like this.  

“She’s a sweetheart.” I pull back so I can look up

“Yeah, we’re a pretty charming family.”

“I can see that.”

After that it was bliss, Harry and I finally got together. Just in time for him to leave on tour. But we made it work, thankfully. Either I would fly out to whatever city he was in, or when he had extended breaks he would come see me on set. Any time we weren’t performing, we were facetiming. Or when the time differences didn’t work, we would leave each other long voicemails, just longing to hear the other’s voice.

By the time he finished his tour, and I finished my movie, we finally got to date like a normal couple and see each other regularly.

“Coming, coming!” I yell, rushing to my door to see who’s in a huge rush that causes them to knock repeatedly.

“I said-” Before I get a chance to yell when I swing the door open my jaw drops at the sight.  

“Hi, love.” He grins, a bundle of sunflowers in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” I peck his lips with mine and pull him in for a long hug, “You had things to finish up! I wasn’t supposed to get you home for another week!”

“I’m sorry, love, but I lied. I always knew I could sneak away.”

“That’s kind of evil.” I laugh pulling away, but still holding onto him.

“Which is why I have these.” He hands my the flowers.

“Thank you.” I grin, he follows me into my kitchen and watches as I put them in water.

“So, how does it feel to be all finished?” I ask.

“Good, it was really rewarding, but really exhausting. I’ve just been waiting to come home to you to be perfectly honest.”

“Well, here I am.” I smile, I take a seat on his lap. It’s good to have him here.

Beachwood Cafe. The coffee here doesn’t taste as good when it’s not filled with our laughter and deep conversations. It seems bitter without the games.This was our spot in Los Angeles. Early in our relationship we had stumbled upon the place and it became ours. The baristas growing accustomed to our orders and our stardom.

“You’re absolutely mad if you think that’s a word.” Harry says, his voice getting louder and gaining the attention of people around us. As if we weren’t already doing that. The cafe is always busy, but today it seemed like there were lots of people here.

“Have you ever played Scrabble? Of course this is a word!” I argue. Part of why we like the cafe is the bookshelf filled with board games. Every time we come Harry and I pick a new one we’ve never played together before. Today we settled on Scrabble even though it led to us bickering.

“I don’t like playing with a cheater.” He can’t even get away with it without smiling, but we continue the teasing fight for the fun of it. Banter is always entertaining.

“A cheater?” My voice raising as well, “Look it up!”

We both breakout in laughter over how stupid it is to be arguing about.

Still blissfully aware in our honeymoon phase which lasted way longer than any other relationship either of us have been in. If only I had known then how much worse the arguing would get.

“Harry, what’s happened to you?” I ask, tears freely falling to the floor. The tears being caused more by anger than hurt at this point.

“What do you mean?” His words slurred.

“You’re drunk again, of course.” I roll my eyes, leaving him on the bathroom floor to deal with himself.

“You’ve made a fool of me Harry!” I shout, letting my temper get the best of me, “Do you know how embarrassing you were tonight? Tonight was a big deal for me, I’ve never been the lead actress. You now what this premiere meant to me.”

“Love, I-” Harry follows me out of the bathroom into our bedroom. My attitude and hurt seems to have sobered him up a bit, though he is still far from dry.

“You got hammered before the movie could even start!” I huff, “You were loud and obnoxiously shouting about nonsense! Not to mention the fact that you flirted with nearly every person at the bar.”

“Y/n, it’s fine we-”

“No, it’s far from fine. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, since when have you felt most comfortable with a drink in your hand? Or a stranger on your arm? This isn’t new for you anymore, you’ve been acting like this for months.”

The silence coming from him proves I’m right.

“If it’s been months, why haven’t you said anything before now. We’ve been dating for nearly two years now, we live together. I would think you’re comfortable enough to tell me you think I’m a drunk.” Harry sasses back.

“I’ve tried! You just get rude or you don’t even remember it in the morning.” I push my hair back out of my face, “The only difference it, tonight was my breaking point.”

I walk to my closet and grab a bag and start shoving essentials in it.

“No, Y/n, wait.” Harry follows me, he takes the bag from my hand and starts pulling things back out.

“Harry stop!” My voice rising louder than it ever has in this house, “Enough. I’m done. We are finished.”

Harry suddenly drops the bag and stumbles back out of the closet. I manage to repack the bad come out to see Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his shoes.

“I’ll send someone to get the rest of my stuff. You can buy out my half of the lease.”

After that night, I never looked back.

The song ends and I turn off my phone and set it down. I wipe away any remnants at eyes, the tears long dried. Before I can spend any more time thinking about him or the way things used to be, I get dressed for the day. Harry was right about one thing.

I’ll never need him again.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #angst #harry styles angst #Harry Styles

[goose-books]

(original image credit to @/theyshane on unsplash)

a month or so ago the wonderful and very sharp-fanged @yvesdot said i should make a post about the process of Working On A Podcast - what, exactly, does that entail? and so today i set down upon your table a long post about the process of this podcast, its unique struggles, and What Comes Next!

for those of you who are new here: a modern tragedy is my podcast-in-progress, a loose retelling of three of shakespeare’s plays (romeo&juliet, hamlet, and macbeth) set in a modern-day high school. or, alternatively, “so so much drama localized inside a few overlapping friend groups of gay* people”

post under the cut!

tag list (ask me to be added/removed): @piyawrites @harehearts @bisexualorlando @guulabjamuns

*well. gay people and indrajit “macbitch” chopra. never let it be said i don’t have cishet rep 😤

what i mean when i say “podcast”

sometimes when i say, “i’m writing a podcast,” people get the wrong idea - they think i’m going to sit down, maybe with some friends as guest stars, and talk into a microphone for an hour. what i really mean is that i’m writing a fiction podcast - something like an audio drama, if you will.

i’ve had this story concept for a long time (since i realized i was gay, actually. sometime around my coming out i was like “...sapphic romeo and juliet. oh i’m a genius”), but it never really worked as a novel. my inspiration for making it a podcast was the penumbra podcast! which i am not caught up on but which dragged me shirt-collar-first into the world of podcasts. [blowing a kiss to mars] for juno steel.

i will admit that i actually... haven’t listened to a ton of podcasts. mostly because my incredibly helpful attention-deficit brain said listening to things is impossible forever. but let me tell you that starting to write AMT in script format worked immediately. and in hindsight? it makes sense. i mean, i am retelling some of the most famous plays of all time... why not get a little theatrical with it?

the process so far

the podcast is drafted! all 16 episodes of it. all... 176k words of it... only took me a year and a half...

i have my main cast together! AMT has a lot of side characters, not all of whom are cast yet, but my main recurring squad is gathered and i love them all VERY dearly. (also, the population of people i know irl is 75% theater kid. so i think i will be able to figure out the side character thing.)

within the group of voice actors, i also have three assistant directors, a term i use loosely because mostly i just mean… those are my right hand men. the main folks i bounce ideas off of and the main folks i have helping me organize all of this. i’ve said multiple times that i’m just the keyboard monkey and would be hopelessly out of my depth without my beloved assdirectors. (shoutout to @asimpleram, the only one who uses tumblr, you are my best friend and i love you oh so much)

i also have two “bootydirectors” who gave themselves that name and that’s just the people who know the most about recording technology and acting. thanks kings

right now the scripts have been sent out to some sensitivity readers and i am currently editing! (both with regards to sensitivity reader feedback, and also just editing the plot and character arcs in general.) (if you want me to send you AMT and you’re willing to give me your thoughts i will straight-up send it to you honestly just know it’s LONG)

i actually did not consider that writing this might be uniquely hard before i started

fun max tip: if you look too far ahead down the road and realize the breadth of the project you’re taking on you’ll freak yourself out so just dive into things headfirst without checking both ways or considering your actions!!! [i am giving you a double thumbs up from behind my monitor]

i have never written anything like AMT before! it has been an experience! there have been some unique struggles!

working with other people is harder than i expected! which is not about my group, all of whom are lovely people. it is about me and my little OCD rat brain that hates letting go of control. even though... an inherent part of writing a script... is that at some point other people will be involved... wild, i know.

9 main characters! AMT has 9 main characters. this is somewhat excusable because the whole thing is episodic and more like a season of a tv show than a novel. but still. 9 main characters. why did i do that

i’ve never written episodically before, so i’ve had to figure out how to fit the plot into appropriately spaced intervals. there are three running plotlines (one for each play), and they’re all parallel and eventually convergent. so everything’s happening at once and it’s… hard to make episodes that aren’t just “max threw a bunch of scenes together because they were happening at the same time.” (i will admit i’ve defaulted to chronological order when spacing episodes, so the timeline doesn’t get confusing. but i hope each episode is cohesive on its own.)

balancing the tragedy and comedy in tragicomedy has been… interesting. i do to some degree feel like AMT’s gone darker than i initially imagined it; while it’s a high school retelling of these plays (and thus there’s no. there’s no murder. the only person who dies is isaac’s dad and that’s six years precanon), all three plays deal to differing degrees with suicide, among other things, and it felt… disingenuous not to write about that from a modern high schooler’s perspective.

i can guarantee a long-term happy ending for AMT! i cannot guarantee much about what’s in the middle. (there are sixteen episodes; one of my directors likened episode 7 to a five-act play’s third act, when things really start to… hit the fan. he’s right and i’m obsessed with thinking about it that way)

the massive amount of time i have been working on the thing: i started writing this podcast in january 2019. i finished writing it this past summer (2020). that’s two summers that have passed without my recording it (which is obviously easier to organize in the summer… or it was before covid but you get my point). this is… a little disheartening? i don’t know; oftentimes i underestimate how long writing projects will take me. what it comes down to is my urge to put out content vs. my urge to make it perfect…

…especially since i’m technically competing with one william f. shakespeare. (the f is for fucking.) i mean, dear old billy shakes DID write the plot out for me ahead of time, which i appreciate, but still…

AMT is absolutely consumable if you don’t know the first goddamn thing about shakespeare’s works. that said. i assume some of the people who will listen to it are shakespeare enthusiasts, casual or otherwise, and that’s a little terrifying! AMT is a shakespeare retelling, but i’ve made these characters very much my own, and i suppose i worry about how others will approach that, and whether they will disagree with my interpretations, or the way i’ve adapted the plots, and so on and so forth... i just have to live with this one, honestly. i think i could edit AMT for a thousand years and probably still find something to change about it, so i will simply have to get over myself.

that said, i don’t regret the amount of time i’ve spent on it! i think the time i’ve taken to draft and edit these episodes has been well worth the wait; i’m genuinely very happy with what i’ve created, and whether or not you agree with, say, my interpretation of a modern hamlet family dynamic, i hope it’ll still be enjoyable!

so what’s next?

as i said earlier, the scripts are currently in the hands of sensitivity readers, and i’m editing!

over the summer, the cast met on zoom frequently to read through and rehearse scenes. and i will not lie it was the most fucking fun i’ve had this entire wretched interminable year. i am constantly charmed and befuddled by the feeling of Listening To My Words Read Out Loud By A Human Voice and also i love my friends so very much

we have a tentative plan to gather the cast (socially distanced and responsibly, of course) over thanksgiving break to make some actual stabs at recording! i am too afraid to concretely promise AMT Episode 1: Fortune’s Fool by the end of 2020 but like… i’m not NOT promising it! send me your finest vibes. we’re close.

#max.txt #amt tag #the amt cast has a blursed discord server which i have not posted a link to publicly because it’s mostly people i know irl #but if you're one of the folks who's read all of amt which is... a few of you... and you want into the server... dm me #we used to use it to organize rehearsals but now that school's started it's mostly just been me complaining about editing i won't lie #max shouts into the void in his personal liveblog channel while 90% of the cast is offline #anyway i reread this post like three times to make sure it makes sense because i'm illiterate <3

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Six

Previous chapter HERE

Warning: Mild language

Summary: Sarah’s parents make a visit, and not everyone is happy with Sarah’s choices.

Note: Sorry this took a while to get out.

CHAPTER SIX

There’s a couple of things you should probably know about Jocelyn and Noah Bernette.

The first is that they are salt-of-the-Earth people. They are friendly to anyone, heavily involved in their community, and they make regular donations to a charity that provides home improvements to families so they can live comfortably with a disability. They once spent a summer volunteering with Habitat For Humanity and have fostered approximately 18 cats and dogs over the past seven and a half years. Jocelyn regularly bakes cakes for their neighbours and Noah is obsessed with his garden and tending to the Norwegian Purple Heather he paid a fortune to have shipped over from Bergen. Politically, they are liberal in practically every sense of the word and up to speed with the latest democratic events. Seriously, you would have to work extra hard to trip them up if you wanted to hold any kind of debate with them.

Sadly, the Bernettes could not have children biologically for one reason or another. Jocelyn in particular struggled with that knowledge. She figured at the age of 34, with most of her friends now mothers and fathers themselves, a child was the obvious piece missing from their puzzle. Professionally, they were both pretty much at the top of their respective trees and they had no mortgage to speak of so naturally the only thing left to accomplish was raising a child. So, thereafter, followed several years of testing, waiting, waiting some more, then more testing, but the doctors couldn’t fathom why it just didn’t want to happen for them. There didn’t appear to be anything medically wrong with either of them. It was nature, they said, as though that was supposed to be some kind of comfort. Eventually, when Jocelyn reached her 40th birthday, she and Noah decided it wasn’t meant to be and opted to try a different route, though it wasn’t much easier being told implicitly that they were now too old to adopt a baby.

Which leads to the other thing you should probably know about them: they don’t like to be reminded that Sarah is adopted. It suits them just fine to block out the first 12 years or so before they met. It’s not to say they completely disregard her past of that they want to forget they couldn’t have children, it was more that on some psychological level Sarah had long since given up trying to understand, they felt more like a real family if they could continue to believe that they had always been this way, that it was fate they would find each other and live happily ever after.

Jocelyn wanted to experience sleepless nights from a crying baby wanting to be fed but instead she learned to deal with sleepless nights waiting to see if their runaway child was going to come home before four in the morning. They would argue about boyfriends they didn’t trust or buying a car they didn’t think she would look after. Jocelyn would later attempt to make the move from mother to best friend as soon as Sarah moved away to college, always planning meet-ups or sending her cut-outs in the post about make-up thinking she would be interested in them and they could perhaps bond over shared hobbies. She could finally empathise with her friends and neighbours about whether their children were surviving their studies. All stereotypical parental concerns and she embraced each and every one of them.

Noah on the other hand, a few years older than Jocelyn, was definitely calmer about the whole thing. He was glad they chose this option for them both because he reasoned he might be too long in the tooth to start changing nappies or teach another human being how to ride a bike given that he didn’t know how to do so himself. Instead, they could take what they had, what they both worked so hard to achieve, and help someone who hadn’t had the best start in life. Isn’t that they best way of helping your community?

Lisa once joked that she learned more about Sarah from one dinner with her folks than she had learned from Sarah herself over the course of knowing her for six months. But she couldn’t understand why Sarah had a particular desire to create a distance between herself and them, and from her seemingly healthy teenage years in a quaint town in Maine, a far cry from Michigan in more ways than one. Shanna didn’t understand either but Sarah wasn’t always forthcoming about her rationale even after knowing for as long as she did.

Sarah learned early on that it was best not to talk about her birth family. She was thankful to have Noah and Jocelyn steering her at a time when it would have been all too easy for her to go off the rails. Of course, she was thankful; who wouldn’t be, living that kind of comfortable life. She didn’t want to see ungrateful. It just never really settled within her. She always felt a little out of place and struggled to adjust to the wealth of positive emotions, love, and a somewhat material wellbeing she hadn’t experienced before. She provided the Bernettes with their missing piece and they wanted to reward her for that but she in turn felt like something was missing from her own identity and that feeling only grew as she got older. Increasingly, she felt like who was as a Bernette was not entirely in line with who she felt she was in the baseline of her DNA. At times she felt like she was merely living to someone else’s expectations so moving to Boston was something akin to therapy.

“And he just gave you this?!”

Jocelyn was stood by the wardrobe in Sarah’s bedroom. She usually did this under the pretence of casually catching up on life and everything else but realistically, Sarah knew she just wanted to snoop around in the hope of discovering hints of a boyfriend she’d been keeping to herself. Shanna was currently sat on Sarah’s bed, one leg tucked underneath and enjoying their relationship from a distance. She was wondering when she’d bring up Prince Greg as she’d dubbed him on account of his floppy hair. She felt like she knew more of Sarah when she was around her own family. It was kind of fascinating to see.

Jocelyn held the dress up in front of her, taking it in, gobsmacked. Sarah had never seen Jocelyn this excited before. To the untrained eye, it was just a simple black mini-dress; unclingy with loose full-length sleeves and a frilly detail around the hem. There was a silver thread woven into the stitching that caught the light if you were stood the right way. Chris was right; it was cute. Shanna suggested wearing it with black tights and those heeled boots that were her go-to date footwear. Her only go-to date footwear, Audrey would remind her whenever she managed to drag her into town for some shopping. Being overtly dressed-up wasn’t something Sarah was easily comfortable with and Chris knew this, so simple was definitely the way to go.

“Not exactly. It’s a loan. I’ll have to give it back afterwards.” Sarah pressed.

She was ready to get to the exhibition centre before it closed but Jocelyn didn’t seem in any particular rush. Her knowing Chris Evans was perhaps the thing Jocelyn was most proud of in Sarah’s life and she always managed to work in a conversation or two whenever she visited. Rather than be irritated by it, Sarah actually found it rather amusing. Chris seemed to have a sixth sense for guessing when Jocelyn was trying her patience, though, and played up to her a little bit so as to give Sarah a break. She once lost her asking him questions about the Academy Awards for nearly an hour. The amount of beer she had to buy him afterwards as a ‘thank you’ nearly bankrupted her.

“Well, you’ll have to make sure your hair and make-up matches. You can’t wear a dress like this with a ponytail.” She was speaking in what she assumed was a helpful tone. It was a good job she couldn’t see the face Sarah was pulling right now.

“Oh, between us all I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out. I’ll have to do the same thing, too.” Shan was trying her best to act nonchalant in an effort to support her best friend. “I mean, it’s not often any of us get the chance to get dressed these days, really.”

“How lovely. You can borrow my emerald earrings if you like? They’ll bring out your eyes.” Jocelyn was more than a little eager now, no doubt buzzing at the thought of having her personal jewellery plastered all over Instagram. She zipped up the dress bad and placed it carefully inside the wardrobe while Sarah and Shan just smiled at each other knowingly.

As Jocelyn moved to the bathroom to wash her hands, they left the bedroom opting for the relative safety of the living room where Noah had set up camp alongside Chris and ESPN. He was a keen follower of most sports with golf a particular favourite. He was saving up for tickets to the PGA tour next year as a retirement gift to himself. Sarah knew Jocelyn wasn’t going with him but couldn’t be entirely sure he hadn’t invited Chris along in her place.

“What’s she mithering you about this time?” Noah asked, eyes glued to the TV screen. He didn’t get much time to sit and be still watching television at home so visiting his daughter was even more of a treat. If Sarah could survive being the sole focus of Jocelyn’s attention for hours on end, he would have happily left them to it for the afternoon and set up camp with Chris and a glass of Talisker.

“Nothing much, it’s OK. Are you ready to go yet? It’ll take about 20mins to walk there,” Sarah was hinting as heavily as she could now, short of jingling her keys in front of their faces likes they were cats.

“Sure, go grab your mom and we’ll head out. Have you had thoughts about dinner yet? Chris, would you like to join us?”

“Well, I was quite keen on seeing the exhibition myself actually but I’d hate cause you guys any problems with my being there.” He tried to casually shrug it off in a look she’d seen all too often lately.

“I’m sure we can manage,” Noah managed to tear himself away from the TV screen for his beloved Chris. “Is it a ball cap situation or more of a through-the-backdoor type of thing? I’ve never had to sneak around before. Could be fun?”

Sarah appreciated Noah’s casualness and evidently, judging by the grin spread across his face in that moment, so did Chris. He turned to look over the back of the couch at Sarah, silently asking her permission.

“Well, I did get a 4th ticket in case you or Scott fancied coming...” she offered. “I mean, I’m fine if you are?”

Chris gave her a grateful smile. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right with you.”

*

For this time of day, the gallery was surprisingly busy but mainly full of people Sarah figured were die-hard fanatics of his art and who probably wouldn’t recognise Chris if he appeared in front of them dressed in his full Captain America get-up waving the American flag. As they passed by the smiling security guard. Noah wondered quietly to Sarah what the Venn diagram of McCurry aficionados crossed with Marvel fans would realistically look like. Given his nerdiness for all things mathematical, no doubt he’d have an answer figured out for them by the time they reached the Vietnam display two halls away.

“...and this was the photograph that started the Live Aid charity.” Jocelyn stopped in front of a small photograph, no larger than one you’d have in a frame at home yet unmistakeable on the wall alongside dozens of other images, Sharbat’s eyes piercing your soul. Walking slightly ahead of them, she’d somehow managed to link arms with Chris and was now acting as their defacto tour guide, explaining each piece to him in turn as though he’d never seen them before. Anyone who knew Chris properly would know he greatly enjoyed photography and was well read on the latest pieces. Nevertheless, he was still polite and nodded along as she enthusiastically spoke of the lens McCurry used to achieve the effects of his art.

As they moved through to the third and final hall space, things had gotten noticeable quieter as more people were filtering out. Noah and Jocelyn were deep in conversation with a local art student who had stopped to sketch a couple of pieces, and Chris seemed far more relaxed and happy walking around without his NASA cap on. No on had paid him any attention all afternoon, it must have been a nice change of pace for him.

Sarah lost track of how long she had been staring at a larger canvas piece of a bridge with a giant concrete hand underneath holding the structure up. The place was unknown and the image was photographed from high up, possible from a plane or helicopter. It was oddly serene even if the bridge had become overgrown with reeds and dirt.

“I think it’s meant to represent Mother Nature’s battle against Man,” Chris spoke quietly as he approached her from behind, standing to one side as she continued to stare at the image.

“That’s an interesting theory. Where did  you read that?”

“i happen to have an ongoing subscription with National Geographic.” Chris said, comically smoothing his beard in contemplation. Sarah almost believed him until she registered what he had said. Chris clocked her side-eying him. “Joss told me to tell you when she saw you looking at it.”

She smiled at him before turning back to the wall. “I think I want to visit this place one day. It’s like the complete opposite of Boston.” she mused.

“You’d never leave Boston. It’s in your DNA now. You’re officially one of us.”

“That’s....that sounds vaguely threatening.”

“You have leprechaun pyjamas and you’ve been drunk at Fenway. You pretty much tick all of the boxes.” Chris smirked and turned to walk away.

“How do you know I have those pyjamas?” Sarah followed behind him.

“I didn’t. You just told me.” Sarah punched him in the arm and Chris pretended to wince.

Noah had somehow managed to loop back around the bookshop from the start to purchase a couple of prints and a biography before joining them as they headed towards the exit. The rain had started getting a little heavier during the time they had been inside and Sarah chastised herself for ignoring Jocelyn’s advice to bring an umbrella with her. If there was one thing you could guarantee in even the nicest of Summers, it’s that Jocelyn Bernette always, ALWAYS, carried an umbrella in her handbag. Also, one of those waterproof macs that rolled up to the size of a dollar bill but she couldn’t convince anybody that they were a good idea.

As they gathered outside, Sarah gently pulled Chris back by his elbow. “Hey, there’s no pressure on staying for dinner if you’d rather head out or whatever. I think they were keen on you stopping out with us but I’m happy to make an excuse if you’d rather not.”

“What? No, it’s totally fine. I really like your folks. They’re fun and interesting.” Chris noticed Sarah’s look of skepticism. “Seriously, you need to chill. I’m having a good time. It’s nice doing normal things for a change.”

“In that case, I’ll let them know you’re up for a bike ride tomorrow. Dad wants to rent a tandem.”

“Are you....Are you being serious?” Sarah nodded. “Wow, they really go all out, huh? What are you gonna do while they do that?”

“No idea. Probably hold their bags.”

Chris laughed. “Man, those two are cute. I’d kill to be that dorky when I’m their age. You’re so lucky.”

Sarah considered his point for a moment, looking at Jocelyn waving her flip phone up in the air trying to get a signal. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d tried to convince her to upgrade, telling her they could stay in touch more easily with Whatsapp rather than pages-long emails once or twice a week. Sadly, this would turn out to be the last positive memory they would have of  their peaceful afternoon.

“Can I ask you something, but you have to promise not to get mad.” Chris posed an interesting question. How was she supposed to respond to that?

“I don’t get why you’re meeting Charlotte.” He could see Sarah about to protest and continued regardless. “I don’t see what good can come from this. You’ve tried it once before, it failed, and you didn’t leave you bed for two weeks. I was there, Sarah. It was horrible. I don’t understand why you would put yourself through that again.”

His tone was a little louder than he realised and placed a hand over his mouth, wiping at his beard as if that would somehow erase his words from having been spoken. Sarah didn’t know what to say. She was tired with a continuous feeling of frustration at having to explain away her decisions at every turn. She hadn’t mentioned meeting her birth mother for a while now but could sense the apprehension people had at the thought. If it wasn’t Chris, it was Shanna, and if it wasn’t Shanna, Audrey had kindly informed her she was taking an unnecessary risk although she didn’t put it quite so mildly.

“You don’t have to agree with me. I get that no one supports me here,”

“Oh, that’s unfair. Jesus.” He turned to face away from where Jocelyn was stood, only a few feet ahead of them but seemingly oblivious to their contention. “It’s not just you that this affects, you know. You seem to forget that.”

There was no mistaking his argument this time as he drew Sarah’s attention back in her mother’s direction.

“Have you guys been talking about this behind my back?” Sarah finally asked after what felt like minutes of silence. Noah was now indicating at something ahead of them.

Chris took a breath and Sarah could tell he was refraining from saying something he might regret. “No, we haven’t we’re just concerned is all. You don’t know her -”

“- hence why I am going to meet her.”

“- and you don’t know what she is after.”

She stood still as Chris continued walking but only getting a few steps ahead of her before noticing she’d stopped altogether. Jocelyn and Noah continued on ahead of them, enjoying the drizzly walk and the lights of the town and gradually getting further and further away.

“Do you not think it’s just what she wants to know who I am? What is it that you think she is after?”

“Sarah, don’t do this, OK? I’m not going to get into an argument with you about this now because I’m not going to say what you want to hear. I’m sorry.” He looked at her carefully for a second. “I just...I see you guys together hanging out and it fits, y’know? You’re so like them, Sarah. You think the same things, you like the same things. If I didn’t know you at all, I’d think you were the double of Joss. They’d be heartbroken if they knew what you were doing.”

Sarah couldn’t look him in the eye. The older Sarah would have possibly turned to run at this point, trying to avoid conflict at all costs, but they’d had spats before and Chris was nothing if not annoyingly unflappable. She knew he would tell her straight and as much as she might not want to hear it right in this moment, it was probably for the best.

He saw a flash of what looked like hurt cross her face. Now or never, he doubled down. “You wanted to know what I thought so I’m telling you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to make tracks but not before one last bash. “I think this is a bad idea.”

“Well, then it’s a bad idea I’ll deal with myself.”

*

#Clear The Area #Chris Evans #Evans Fic #chris fic #chris evans x original female character #Sarah Bernette #Syms Writing

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part one) Fandom: Supernatural AU Main characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually)  Word count: ±4350 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part one: Y/N arrives at the airport, but getting to her new internship is easier said than done, when no one shows to pick her up. Meanwhile, at the ranch, Dean learns that his uncle Bobby hired a new intern and assigned her to the head wrangler, and he’s not sure how he feels about that. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Along The Way’ - Sunday Kids (check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify!) Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @coffee-obsessed-writer and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me take this story to a higher level. 

Ride With Me Masterlist

     “This is just great…”

     After a long, turbulent flight next to a rather large and sweaty nervous flyer - who had way too much garlic for lunch, by the way - Y/N thought she was done. But now that she’s waiting outside Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport with no one in sight to pick her up, it seems that the universe isn’t going to stop toying with her just yet.

     To top it off, the weather decided to throw a curveball as well. What happened to the lovely sun rays and dry heat from the brochure? Right now it’s so humid that the fabric of her clothing clings to her skin as if it’s trying to hold on for dear life, and to make matters worse, rain begins to fall from the clouded sky. Right; monsoon season. Oh, well. At least the entrance of the arrival hall offers the traveler some shelter.

     With a sigh she sits down on her oversized suitcase, scanning her surroundings for a driver. She should have picked up something to eat in the arrival hall; she could eat a horse, as a figure of speech that is. Obviously, Y/N would never eat a horse, since she loves them more than anything. They are the reason why she touched down in Phoenix in the first place.      From the age of four, she’s been riding the majestic animals. Being on the back of a horse is one of the first memories she can recall, now that she thinks of it. When she was a little girl and was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, the answer was always the same: she wanted to be a professional rider with her own ranch. 

     That’s the dream. No, that’s the goal.

     Despite her unconditional love for these noble creatures and an overload of motivation to execute this plan, her parents encouraged their daughter to go to college. She even got her master's degree, but truth be told, all she ever wants to do is ride. So when she graduated a few weeks ago, Y/N thought that was exactly what she was going to do from that point on. Her father wasn’t impressed with her business plan, though, and decided that he was only going to lend her the money to start up her own company if she would complete half a year of ranch work. ‘No quitting, no complaints’, is what he said.

     Clearly, he’s underestimating her, because how hard could ranch life possibly be? Sure, in the past she spent most of her time riding and not so much mucking out stables. After all, employees at the boarding facility did that for the clients. But she had insight, management skills, and other great characteristics that will help run a business. What are six months of hard labor going to contribute, besides a good waistline?

     Although she believes her father’s plan is completely unnecessary, she is going with it. Those twenty-six weeks will pass by in the blink of an eye. It’s gonna be a walk in the park. Smooth sailing, right? Except for the fact that she’s already stranded, alone, and with no clue where to go. Hopefully, the rocky flight to the desert wasn’t an omen for what is yet to come. 

    After fifteen minutes of waiting, she takes out her phone again. For a second her thumb lingers on the speed dial that would put a call through to her father, but then she looks up the number of the ranch owner in her email and calls him instead. Running back to Mom and Dad is not going to deliver the message of an independent woman who is ready for the big world. Looks like she will have to dig herself out of this mess. Arizona might not have been her Dad’s best idea, but she’s here now. Pride forbids her to give him, or all the others who are skeptical, the satisfaction of being right. 

     “Bobby, are ya gonna pick up the damn phone or what?”

     Dean sets his bottle down on the bar next to the buzzing phone. He glances at the screen, unable to identify the number, and looks up again, searching the saloon for his uncle. At the long table in the center of the lounge, the man in his mid-sixties is enjoying a game of cards and a glass of whiskey, accompanied by a few members of the crew. Bobby hasn’t heard Dean, too busy laughing over the dirty joke Ash just told. Right when his nephew is about to call out his name again, the phone on the wooden counter stops ringing. Oh well, if it’s important they will call again, right?      Even though he feels drained from last days' events, he will not let anything take away this carefree feeling. Together with Jo, Benny and a couple of regular guests, they moved the young cattle from the summer pasture up in the Superstition Mountains back to the ranch. It took two days to locate the herd, but eventually, they found them at Weaver’s Needle.      After hours spent in the saddle and camping out for several nights, they all needed a shower, a good meal and a cold beer. Bringing the cattle in is one of the highlights of the season and worth a celebration. It didn't take long before wranglers, workers and tourists gathered in the saloon to celebrate. The place hasn’t been this crowded in years and smile appears on Dean’s face as he takes it all in. An upbeat country song - that he recognizes as ‘Along The Way’ by the Sunday Kids - fills the air together with growling laughter and cigarette smoke. Cheers rise when the beer bottles are heaved into the air, overruling the sound of billiard balls colliding on the pool table. 

     He lets a sigh slip from his lips when he glances aside at Ellen, who just brought back a full tray of empty glasses. As she sets the load down on the counter to give her arms a rest, his aunt smiles, witnessing Dean’s pleased expression.

     “Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” she asks.      Dean nods, circling the bar to grab two new bottles of Corona from the cooler. “It’s a good night.”      Ellen grants her eyes another look at her saloon as she takes the beer that is handed over; she can only agree. “It sure is.”

     They toast to that and take a swig, but before Dean can swallow his drink, the phone on the counter starts ringing again. He guesses it apparently is important and calls out Bobby’s name, a little louder this time.

     “I’m in the middle of a poker game, son,” he replies, not looking up from his cards.      “Your phone’s been buzzing like crazy,” Dean notifies as he approaches the old man, noticing the pair of queens in his hand.      “Is it ringing, really? How come I can’t hear the damn thing?”      Ellen scoffs from behind the counter. “Maybe because you need to start using your God-forsaken hearing aids.”      “Woman, my ears work just fine,” he returns, continuing to mutter much softer to prevent his wife from hearing him. “I can hear you jappin’, can’t I?”

     Dean - who did pick up on his words - smirks in amusement and checks on his aunt if she really didn’t hear her husband, but when she looks from one to the other confused, he wisely keeps his mouth shut. Meanwhile, Bobby grumpily turns his cards upside down on the table surface and takes the phone. The ranch owner adjusts his worn baseball cap a little as he looks down at the screen, puzzled, obviously not sure how to work the piece of modern technology.      “How the hell do I pick up?” he wonders out loud.      “You swipe it, Dad.”

     Jo walks over, interrupting her game of pool momentarily, and leans over her father’s shoulder, still holding her cue stick. With a simple movement, she lets her finger slide across the touchscreen. Somewhat clumsily, Bobby presses the phone against his ear, letting out a hesitant ‘hello?’ as if he’s not completely sure if the little magic trick actually worked.

     “You really had to give him your old iPhone, huh?” Dean sniggers when Jo walks past him, back to the pool table to finish the game.      “Anything’s better than that old Nokia,” his cousin returns, throwing him a look as she whips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “That thing was prehistoric.”

   Dean grins at the remark and observes the game that is in motion on the green quarried slate. Jo is acing it, it’s her turn to shoot the eight-ball in already, while her opponent still has several balls on the play field. The petite blonde positions herself behind the black number eight, throwing a seducing glance at the slick-looking young man on the other side of the table. With a flirtatious sparkle in her eyes, she allows her low-cut tank top to show a little more cleavage as she bends over. It doesn’t go unnoticed with the men in her company, but unlike the guest that she’s reeling in, Dean has the urge to cover up his little cousin. It’s not just a game of pool that these youngsters are going to be playing tonight.

     “Sure you want to aim it like that?” Dean asks, amusedly waiting for her to pick up on the double meaning.      A deadly glare comes his way and his smirk reaches even wider. Not granting him another second of her time, Jo focuses on the final ball again and pockets it, winning the game. Victoriously, she holds up her hand in front of tonight’s loser, who reluctantly hands her a twenty-dollar bill. A chuckle escapes Dean’s throat and he takes another swig of the sparkling yellow brew called Corona. As he lowers the bottle, the cowboy’s attention shifts to his uncle, who is still on the phone.

     “- I’m very sorry, It’s been really hectic today with the cattle comin’ in and it slipped my mind completely.”      The apologetic tone in Bobby’s voice piques Dean’s interest. Jo joins him, leaning against the table while resting her elbows on the rails.      “Any idea what that’s about?” Dean wonders, but she shakes her head.      “- that’s no problem. I’ll send someone to pick you up right away.”

     After having made that promise, Bobby eyes his employees, then his wife and daughter, hoping that someone is sober enough to keep his obligation. It triggers Dean to check with his friend, Benny. The brawny wrangler answers the unspoken question by shaking his head, however; he’s not volunteering, and neither is Garth. The skinny stable boy now turns to Ash, catching the ranch hand peeking into Bobby’s cards while his boss is occupied, and he elbows him. Shrugging his shoulders the guy who is rocking a mullet lets out an innocent ‘what?’ under his breath. It’s obvious, though, that Ash is in no shape to drive, since he already drank half a crate of his favorite Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. It’s heading towards eleven PM and after an exhausting couple of days, no one is thrilled to drive out to Phoenix. Not to mention that the amount of liquor they’ve consumed might actually jeopardize getting the person Bobby is talking to from A to B.

     “Balls!” the boss curses after he hangs up.      “Forgot somethin’?” Ellen assumes from what she picked up, as she continues to polish a glass behind the bar.      “Yeah, that new intern from Maine,” he mutters as he gets up.      Ellen’s jaw drops, staring at her husband in shock. “You didn’t! That poor gal is at the airport right now?”      “Landed forty-five minutes ago,” Bobby admits, embarrassed.

     “Whoa, wait! New intern?” Dean’s eyes slide from Bobby to Ellen and back, unable to follow.      “Did I forget to mention that? She’ll be under your supervision,” Bobby breaks to him.      “What? I wasn’t even notified?!” he exclaims, his voice pitching a little higher than he anticipated.      “Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” Jo scoffs, placing her hand on her hip as she looks at him sideways. “Like you would mind a chick working under you.”

     Stunned by her bold comment, Dean cocks his head back as he stares at her wide-eyed; she’s got some nerve! He is about to counter when Jo’s mother already intervenes.      “Joanna Beth!” she warns.      “Oh, come on. It’s the truth, ain’t it?” her daughter mumbles, stubborn as ever.      Ellen doesn’t answer. Instead, her attention shifts to the man who is moving towards the double doors. “And where do you think you’re going?”      Bobby turns around, a confused furrow on his forehead. “Well, to pick up the gal, of course,” he returns, stating the obvious.      “Like hell you are! You had three glasses of whiskey, Robert Singer. You ain’t getting behind the wheel and that’s that,” Ellen decides with her shoulders back, arms crossed and eyes stern.

     Annoyed, but smart enough not to fight the strong-minded woman he married thirty years ago, he addresses Dean with a hopeful look.      “Don’t look at me, this is my fourth beer,” he returns, holding his hand up innocently.      “Same here, boss,” Benny copies, his southern accent thick on his voice.

      “I’ll go.” Jo straightens her back and takes her cowboy hat from the corner of the pool table.      “You sure, honey?” her mother checks with her.      “I had one drink, Mom. You’re not gonna find a more sober person on the ranch at this hour,” she claims bored. “Keys?”      That last demand was meant for Dean.      “Keys to what?” he questions, furrowing his brow.      An eye roll, a sigh. Jo’s typical routine when she’s done with her cousin. “Your car, asshat.”      “What’s wrong with yours?”      “I have a flat. Now, are you gonna hand me the keys, or what?” she says smartly.

    Jo holds up her hand and with a reluctant grunt, Dean tosses the keys of his precious ‘67 Chevrolet El Camino pickup. Skillfully she catches it, beams at him in triumph, and makes her way to the double doors.      “If I find a scratch on her, I’ll make you regret it!” he shouts, loud enough for her to hear.      “I’d like to see you try!” she scoffs.

     A few moments later, the V8 big block under the hood of his beloved car starts up. Jo doesn’t even bother to warm up his baby before she races down the dirt road towards the big city down in the valley, skitting gravel from under the tires. Dean cringes when he hears her take off; someone’s gonna pay for that.

      He will deal with her when she gets back. Until that time Dean settles down at the long table, watching the poker game. Obviously, Ash folds the moment Bobby raises the stakes, leaving the ranch owner with fewer chips than he hoped to win.      “Can I talk to you for a second?” Dean requests before Garth starts dealing the cards.

     Bobby looks at his nephew from under his cap, observing him for a moment. He knows that kid. He spent a few years of his childhood on the ranch and the young man has been working here since the age of fourteen. The boy is like a son to him, so no wonder he can read Dean like a book. Something is bothering the wrangler, and so he gets off his chair and moves away from the crowded table. Shadowed by the cowboy, Bobby heads towards the corner of the bar, seeking a little privacy. They sit down on the bar stools, facing Ellen on the other side of the counter. Her husband doesn’t bother asking her to pour him a drink, because she is on it before he barely has the chance to settle in his seat.

     “Here you go, boys.” She puts down the filled whiskey tumblers on the varnished wood.      Dean thanks her and takes the glass in his hand, clanking it into Bobby’s, who mutters ‘cheers’ as he does so. After watching Ellen enter the kitchen, the older man shifts his gaze to the man accompanying him.      “What’s on your mind, son?” he asks.

     Dean adjusts himself a little, preparing for the upcoming conversation. He doesn’t like to question his uncle, who also happens to be his boss. This is the part where it gets tricky to keep work and family separated. He has to speak up, though, because lately, he has the oppressive feeling that Bobby might not trust him entirely when it regards the management of the ranch. Obviously, the owner calls the shots, but he used to involve Dean whenever decisions needed to be made. It’s bothering him and he needs to get it off his chest.      “Why didn’t you tell me you hired an intern?” he wonders.

     Bobby grunts softly, averting his eyes to his drink as he circles the tumbler  on its edge. He knew this talk was coming and instantly regrets keeping Dean in the dark about recent developments. His nephew is an exceptional horseman, loyal to his family, a trustworthy worker. A little relentless when it comes to risks and danger, and yes, an impulsive womanizer, but there’s one thing he isn’t and that’s stupid. He’s Bobby’s right hand for a reason, he should have known he would pick up on something.

     “Because I knew you wouldn’t approve,” he admits, taking a sip.      Dean scoffs at that. “If you knew I wouldn’t be okay with it, why did you hire her?”      “Because she’s free help, Dean.”      “Is she any good? Did you look into her?” His head wrangler eyes him, trying to make out how thorough he has been in his research.      It doesn’t take long before his uncle’s guilty expression gives it away.     “You didn’t even interview her, did ya? You just said ‘yes’? Look, I know things have been a little difficult since Gabriel left, but we’re managing fine now,” he assures him. “Educating a wannabe cowgirl is actually gonna cost me valuable time and there’s a lot of shit that needs sortin’. We have to bring in the two-year-old stallions, the calves need branding, the young stock has to be moved to the winter pastures--”      Bobby interrupts Dean’s ramble by holding up his hand to shush him, intervening the moment he has an opening. “You don’t have to worry about the young stock, I’m selling it.”      Stunned, Dean stares at him. And when was Bobby planning to tell him this?      “Why the hell would you do that?” he questions, unpleasantly surprised.        Before his boss can answer, Dean can make an estimated guess already. The concerned look in Bobby’s eyes when they meet his green ones confirms it; money is tight, very tight. The crisis has laid the ranch in a thick suffocating smog of debt and so far it doesn’t look like the air is going to clear anytime soon. Hay prices are sky high while their stock sells for half the price they used to go for. It has been hard to keep their heads above water, but so far they’ve been able to ride out the economic recession, so Dean thought. But now that Bobby’s telling him that the one-year-old cattle has to go, it dawns on him how serious the situation is. 

      His jaw clenches as he observes the ice in his glass for a moment, pondering in silence. And just like that, the careless happiness he was experiencing a moment ago, is gone.      “You wanna sell all of them? Or just the steers?” he checks.      “All of them,” Bobby sighs, downing his drink.       “How you wanna handle that next year? Buy in again? It’s gonna cost you a lot,” Dean responds, trying to think of another way.      “Right now, all we need to worry about is surviving this year, son.” Bobby pauses, now comes the bit that he wanted to avoid. Drastic measures are necessary for the survival of their home. Maybe the term ‘sacrifice’ is a better way to describe what he’s about to announce. “That’s why I need you to let one of the wranglers go.”      Shocked, Dean stares at the man in his company. Not looking him in the eye, Bobby forks his fingers together, resting his elbows on the counter.      “You want me to fire one of my men?” Dean recaps in disbelief. “No, let me correct that, you want me to fire one of my friends?”      “What you do with your colleagues in your spare time should not influence a layoff,” the ranch owner counters.      But his nephew disagrees strongly. “That’s bullshit and you know it. These guys are practically family, Bobby.”      “You think I don’t know that, boy? I ain’t happy about it either, damn it! You think I’m proud of having to send one of those guys home?”

     He nods at the workers, who are laughing loudly as Ash folds his tattooed arms around the mountain of chips that are stacked on the table, reeling in the win. Neither he, Benny, or Garth have a clue what is hanging over their heads, but it’s probably better that way. Only now does the head wrangler understand why Bobby didn’t tell him before. The poor man simply didn’t want to burden him.

     “I have to. For the future of this place, Dean. And I wish I didn’t have to ask you to do this, but you know your crew best. You know who’s most needed and who we can miss,” Bobby explains with empathy.      Dean wants to fight this, he wants to object and argue in every way possible. Who he can miss? He can’t miss any of his men. Shit, after they let Gabe go, they were barely able to round up the daily routine before dinner. But he knows how this works and he knows Bobby would do anything to make sure that the boys can keep their jobs. There is no right or wrong answer here, every option behind any door is a bad one. There’s nothing the boss can do about it and Dean understands that.      “I know. I’ll handle it. Just give me a couple of days and I’ll let you know,” he assures, patting his uncle on the shoulder.    Bobby nods, but is unable to break a smile. He’s carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders, go figure when you have to play God like that. It’s exactly the reason why Dean took on the task to fire one of the workers, hoping that it would relieve his surrogate father a bit.

     “I need another drink,” Bobby mutters, reaching for the Jack Daniels behind the counter.      Dean checks on his uncle from the corner of his eye, but then puts his glass down next to his. “You and me both. That intern better be good. Do you know anything about her?”      “I know she’s a reining rider, pretty damn talented too. Not much experience in ranch work, though,” the ranch owner tells him.       “Blonde? Brunette? Cute?” Dean smirks as he fishes for more information, but Bobby doesn’t reply with a straight answer.      “Oh, hell no. Not under my roof,” his father figure decides, having seen this play out numerous times already. “She’s staying for six months so tie a knot in it and keep it in your pants for once.”

     “If she sticks around that long.” The young man scoffs, triggering Bobby to glare at him. “What? We had plenty who went home crying within a week. This work ain’t for everyone.”      “I know you’re not happy with the situation, but do me a favor and just give her a chance, will ya?” Bobby pressures. “She seemed like a go-getter. She might surprise you.”      “Maybe. We’ll see,” Dean downs his glass and slides off his stool.

     Bobby watches his nephew walk away from him. It takes only a second before the charismatic cowboy put on his poker face, just in time, because Garth signals him to come over. So he does, but his next step shows a hint of hesitation. He turns on the heels of his boots, the thumb of his left hand casually hooked behind his belt buckle.      “What’s her name?” Dean asks, narrowing his eyes a little.      Bobby huffs and casts his gaze at him. “Her name is Y/N,” he states. “Y/N L/N.”

     Dean raises his brow, nodding satisfied. Y/N. Sounds good, has a nice ring to it. Curious he imagines what kind of person would fit a name like that and as a perky smile starts to form on his lips, he joins the guys.

     Bobby can spot the up-to-no-good sparkle in his nephew’s green eyes and he can’t help but smile into his refilled glass of Jack. He can point a parenting finger at Dean all he wants, but if this intern is his type, he’s going to charm her right into his bed like he has done with so many women already. Oh, well. We’ve all been young, he thinks to himself. Dean being a wrangler only stacks up the number of girls dwelling at the pretty boy’s feet and he never failed to take full advantage of that. Who can blame him, really? He hasn’t committed to anyone yet, why not make the best of it? It has cost the ranch owner some money, though, since a client or two never returned after getting their hearts broken. The boy better listen this time.

     For a moment he takes in what’s playing before his eyes. His wife having a good conversation with a group of guests, the crew gathered around the long table where Ash just revealed a full house, causing the men to go out of their minds. It’s a nice moment that will make a great memory. Bobby can only hope that those moments keep coming, because no matter how precious, no man can live on memories alone.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part two here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Dean reader insert #Cowboy!Dean #Cowboy!Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x Y/N #Dean x you #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester reader insert #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #SPN AU #Supernatural AU #Dean Winchester AU #Dean AU #Dean fanfiction #Kate Huntington

[letsperaltiago]

instead of calling me out you should be pulling me in [jake/amy]

the oneshot no one asked for about jake and amy’s first fight as a couple and... pineapple on pizza (read on aO3)

シ 

It was silly.

Their first fight… As a couple that is. It really truly was and deep down they both obviously, considering the fact that they were both some of NYPD’s best detectives, knew. There was no telling exactly how things had escalated so fast but the flip had threatened to switch the second Amy showed up at Jake’s place after a long day at work. Whereas he on the other hand had spent his day off in the comfort of his home. They were still figuring things out: each other, their new status as lovers as Jake would teasingly call them. Although barely a month into this, yes new but nonetheless good, relationship was already subjected to a somewhat steady routine which amongst other things included the other dropping by after work if the circumstances didn’t allow them to work the same shifts.

Today had been the case on Amy’s part: her working and Jake not. However yesterday they’d both left the precinct rather late, unquestionably resulting in them picking up something to eat from whatever take-out place was the closest before eating it together on Jake’s couch whilst some random show could act as background noice playing in the background. As a result of being both too tired to actually feel real hunger, and the luring thought of being wrapped up in each other in the comfort of a warm bed, the remaining pizza was put away for the night. It’d make up for it’s lack of achievement as dinner the following day - or so Amy thought.

“Hey,” she’d called out to let her presence be known while taking off her boots and coat, shortly struggling to although managing to neatly place it in the entré amongst Jake’s iconically and always cluttered shoes. Although Amy did consider the recent evolution of their relationship a pledge to what first and foremost had been a devoted friendship, something serious as well as meant to last, there was still a part of her that was hesitant about springing her borderline obsessive urge to arrange everything around her upon him. It was still his home after all. Even if them being a couple didn’t cause any drastic changes (besides the touching, kissing and damn, the sex? Amazing) Amy saw no need in risking it getting that domestic this early on. Yes, they were still and always would be best friends which meant honesty came first, but there was no shame in keeping certain things like the passionate house-wife in her to herself for a bit longer. She’d allow herself to let out the occasional sigh or teasing comment about his disorderly life-style but always in a way that’d earn her an affectionate response in the form of flirty teasing or a kiss to shut her up. From her spot by the front door she heard the sound of his footsteps bounce off the walls as he made his way from what appeared to be the living room to her. The butterflies in her belly were revived by the simple sound reminding Amy of just how good things were. Oh, how she’d wasted time on previous relationship.

“Hey, babe,” he instantly smiled as soon as his eyes landed on her still not believing that he was actually allowed to greet her in whatever sickly cute way he felt like. Today he felt like wrapping his arm around her from behind which happened to be perfectly welcomed by Amy straightening back up from being bend over to rearrange his shoes and into his arms. “How was work?” he mumbled into her rosy cheek. Amy’s body immediately, just like his did with with her’s, identified his body’s characteristics and allowed itself to lean back into his firm chest like it was coming home to a sense of assurance and the ability to let down its guards.

“It was okay,” she mumbled slightly distracted by his lips continuously tasting her skin moving from her cheek to that special spot behind her ear. While he managed to let out a half-hearted mumble genuinely caring about her day, he failed to bridle his need to be reminded of just how good she tasted and how lucky he was to have her. There was no hiding that they were very much still in the early, overly-affectionate stage of their new relationship where nothing seemed to be too much. The urge to have their hands and lips all over each other at all times was still very much present and today was no exception. He hadn’t seen her all day so there was no way he’d let her slip away to change out of her work-clothes without a proper welcome.

“Someone sounds like they care, huh?” Amy briefly opened her eyes which’d slipped shut in pleasure a few seconds ago. Feeling his lips dance further across its surface there was no ignoring the fact that he was kissing his was back to the front of her cheek making out a brief “I do,” before using his hands on her waist to flip her around to look at him. The contact between his lips and her cheek was lost in the process although now she was met by dazed eyes instead, a happy smile and another shot of the feeling of coming home. There was no way she couldn’t reciprocate the happiness showing with every feature of his face.

“Questioning my intentions? You really know how to make a man want to woo you, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow as to counter her sarcasm. As he spoke she could feel his thumbs come to a newfound drowse affectionately stroking her hipbones.

“I don’t need you to want to woo me anymore,” she smirked. “I already have you. That rough part is over, Peralta.”

“Phew,” he puffed excessively staying true to his teasing nature by accompanying said puff with a smug expression. “How lucky am I?”

“Very lucky. I’m a treat,” she slid her hands from where they had been holding on his biceps onto his chest also better known as one of his many body parts that she was a complete sucker for.

“Oh, I wasn’t referring to that part, because you and I both know that I know you are. It was more of a ‘Phew, good thing I don’t have to suffer the pining anymore’.”

Of course their relationship had already endured quite the growth during their first month of being a twosome although that didn’t actually change the essence of their relationship that much.

They were still and always would be Jake and Amy; Peralta and Santiago, meaning comments of this bantering nature would as per self-evident earn Jake a playful punch to the shoulder. Right then and there being no exception.

“Ouch.”

“Well, if you don’t think of me as a treat then I might as well just put my energy elsewhere.”

In that moment Jake had no say in anything whatsoever meaning that before he had the chance to pick up on the fact that she’d slipped out of his arms Amy was wandering off to his kitchen. The sway of her hips; her cascading, finally free of work hair; altogether the way she carried herself and witnessing it live? Jake was without a doubt very aware of just how blessed he felt by her divine presence in his life. Hopefully it wouldn’t be just for some time, he couldn’t help but allow himself to think even though forever was a word with too much power this early on.

Whatever celestial world Jake’s thoughts had travelled to admiring her was abruptly disintegrated upon hearing the sound of Amy’s notably miffed voice penetrate his brief mental absence.

“Jake, did you eat the remaining pizza?”

“No,”  he quickly followed her path and joined her in the kitchen. “There’s at least half a pizza left.”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” she turned to him right hand still gripping onto the fridge’s cool handle. Contrary to their teasing banter from few moments ago Amy now looked genuinely annoyed.

“Jake, did you eat what was left of my pizza?”

It really took a whole lot and was borderline impossible, especially when it came to Amy, to piss him off but the marginally combative way of repeating his name managed to trigger an irked feeling within Jake. “What do you mean your pizza? We clearly got two pizzas to share.”

“No,” prompted her closing the fridge allowing her to place both hands on her hips which now suddenly represented confrontation rather than the usual desire. “I clearly remember you asking ‘Can we get a pineapple pizza?’ and I clearly remember replying ‘Sure, I’m not a huge fan but you can go ahead get one.’… Also, if you hadn’t been too busy talking about that same old murder case you’ve been obsessing about for the past week, you would’ve noticed that I didn’t eat any of it.”

Jake frowned, not only because of the confusing task that was remembering last night after having been so tired but also secondly out of inching frustration. How could she suddenly accuse him like this when she, last night on the couch, hadn’t uttered any explicit disapproval towards either the pineapple pizza or his (super awesome, he’d say) case? “You didn’t seem to mind last night though…”

“Because I’m a grown up who’s capable of biting my tongue and compromising,” she lectured obviously just as annoyed if not more. Not that there was ever a good one but right now was definitely not the time to have a discussion: Not only was she tired after a long day at work while he had had the entire day to do nothing, but she was also hungry and had heavily relied on the remaining pizza which was now now longer an option.

“Oh so what you’re saying is…” it was now Jake’s turn to counter the hands on her hips by bitterly crossing his arms in front of his chest. “…that listening to me talk takes,” he briefly uncrossed them to allow him to execute emphasising air quotes, “compromising?”

Not 2 seconds went by before the crossed arms promptly made their return, earning him an exhaled answer.

“Stop twisting my words, would you?”

“There’s been no twisting, Amy. It’s literally what you just said.” Her name venomously oozed off of his tongue.

“Well it’s not what I intended to imply. All I’m saying is that you have a questionable taste in pizza and I would’ve really appreciated if you could’ve been considerate enough to leave me a few slices of the one pizza I actually liked since you obviously like them both.”

Amy’s eyes slipped away from his figure to follow his action, narrowing in on the pizza box which was simultaneously opened and placed on the kitchen counter before her as an emphasised part of his argument. “Pineapple pizza is without a doubt one of the most common pizzas,” he once again unfolded his arms, this time to hastily open the fridge and pull out the cold pizza box with the remaining slices.

“It might be but it’s also one of the most controversial ones.”

“Well maybe it’s your taste in food that’s controversial here then,” Jake’s arms were by then back to looking defensive, crossed, before his chest.

A silence fell over the kitchen while the pizza box remained wide agape and the 5 remaining slices untouched. Just like the pizza box Amy’s mouth was now also agape, mostly in shock by his patronising comment and horribly irritating attitude towards the problem which was enormously stupid but by then more of a question of principle for them both.

“I’m-“ she snapped, almost as for a breath of air or simply something better to do than having a fit over Jake Peralta and pineapple pizza. “I’m too old for this,” she snarled and pushed past him before she could even consider the action properly; the words had escaped her mouth and she was now definitely sticking to the stance she’d so suddenly taken. “I’m going home.” She couldn’t let him see her hesitate.

Whether it was out of stubbornness or the shock of how fast it all had escalated, Jake didn’t budge, keeping his back turned to where she was back by the front door getting ready to leave. Only a few seconds into pulling himself together and her putting on her coat he made a turn to look at her. She wasn’t looking back.

“Are you really going to storm out of here because of pizza?” his question wasn’t degrading per se although it wasn’t exactly a peace offering either.

“Amongst other things… yes,” she finished zipping up her coat allowing her to throw him a bitter glance.

“Amy, come on-“ he took a quick decision and a redeeming step towards her but it was too late. His front door was open and shut before he could stop her from walking out. All that was left of her in the apartment was the sound of the footsteps that would take her down the apartment building’s stair to her car.

Today was definitely not a good day for new love birds detectives Santiago and Peralta.

Back home in her own apartment Amy managed to put aside the taste of her anger which she quickly recognised as petty. Or almost: the petty taste reappeared the moment she picked up her phone and ordered herself an even more petty pizza - without pineapple. There was no telling whether it was out of bitterness or actual hunger but there was no doubt in Amy’s mind, from the second she sat, brewing with anger, in her car on the way home: she was having pizza for dinner. Whether it was stupid leftovers at Jake’s place or a freshly ordered one at home by herself.

She didn’t even have to think ‘deep down inside’ because it was right there at the very surface once she took the first bight of the newly delivered pizza: this fight was absolutely ridiculous and she was probably more mad about their attitudes than the problem itself.

One part of her longed to reach for her phone and call him to apologise although the other just needed to sit and feel nettled by Jake Peralta’s childishness. Even if she was mature enough to acknowledge her own partaking in the little mess they’d created and the very probable fact that she’d probably call him later to apologise for her part, she just needed to be alone for a bit. Jake was incredible and it was scary. It was still so early on in their relationship but he was probably already one of the best things to happen to her. That (obviously) didn’t mean they weren’t still the same people who could evoke the worst in each other at all times. It was a part of their dynamic, both as partners, friends and as a couple, which was fine as long at it didn’t get the best of them them like it had this time.

A million thoughts, mostly heartwarming and reaffirming ones at this point, ran through her mind although it wasn’t allowed to last for long: someone was knocking on her door and Amy had a very accurate idea about who it was - either that or maybe she was just silently hoping. It took her no time to put down the pizza and make her way to the front door.

A chuckle immediately danced off her lips. Before her stood a very sorry-looking Jake holding a wide open pizza box with ‘Sorry :(‘ scribbled in big letters across the inside its lid. Under it the same pizza from earlier presented itself but this time with all the pineapple removed and neatly placed by itself in a corner away from the pizza.

“You’re an idiot, Jake Peralta.” She couldn’t stop smiling.

He returned her happy reaction with one of his own, throwing in a nod to acknowledge her point.

“But so am I,” she added. “I’m sorry for freaking about nothing. I should’n’t’ve complained when I hadn’t even bothered to tell you I wanted to have the leftovers for dinner and had a strong pizza-preference.”

“It’s okay. I should’ve considered what your preference clearly was, especially when I knew you’d come home late and would need something to eat for dinner… And I should’n’t’ve called your taste in food controversial.”

“Oh,” Amy reacted to this reminder of what he’d said earlier once more realising how dumb of a fight it really had been. Another chuckled followed up. “I mean my taste is controversial, but mostly just because I’m allergic to 50% of all foods. That’s on me.”

They shared a laugh both feeling the calm finally settle over them and allow their previous argument and annoyance to be put aside.

“Can we agree on one thing?” Amy calmly grabbed the pizza box from his hands, closing it before carefully letting it to drop to the floor as to free her hands.

“Just one thing?” He challenged teasingly still standing on the opposite side of the threshold.

“At least this one thing,” the smirk on her lips easily, the one that appeared almost automatically whenever she had to counter his quirky remarks, transferred to the sound of her voice. Her hands grabbed onto his still open leather jacket and pulled him into what was now finally once more their safe haven.

“Okay… what is it then?” he let out as she dragged out her pull on his jacket till the tip of his nose was promptly placed, simply being that bit taller than her, in front of the bridge of hers. Both craved to have their bodies touch again, now for the first time since her doomed arrival at his place hours ago.

“You and I…” she trailed off, both her brain and focus short-circuiting the instant she realised just how profound the infatuated expression on his face was. Within the very limited time they’d been together, as an actual couple that is, Amy had sooner than expected come to terms with the fact that Jake made her feel a wider range of emotions than any past love interest had ever been able to incite. Right then and there was a prime example: she wanted nothing else but grab his face to make sure she wouldn’t have to go on for much longer without the taste and feel of his lips. Although she had a point to finish. “… You and I need to control our passion for take-out food.”

Just to keep him wrapped around her little finger with the help of a touch, Amy slid her hand on his chest up to where his hair by the nape of his neck curled just a bit more than the rest. Next she let the tip of her nose brush against his. “That or we simply need to channel our anger into something more… enjoyable.” Her lips broke under the weight of the tension immediately breaking into a toothy grin.

“Agreed,” Jake bluntly kicked the door behind him closed without looking away from where his hands, now suddenly out of control, reached to cup her face in his hands and pull her in for the contact he longed for. The kiss was not anything new. Within their first month together there’d been a lot of kissing (amongst other things). Yet this on, this one kiss with clacking teeth whilst holding onto each other like they’d spent months apart, was enough to advocate the fact that where they were was indeed where they were both meant to be. If Jake was king of the world he would make sure Amy would forever play with his hair whilst smiling into his lips before letting out a small gasp of surprise when he’d spin her around in order to capture her body against the door. Similar to what was happening at that very moment. All in all sJake Peralta was never really a 100% sure about anything although the sound of Amy Santiago’s back hitting the hard wooden surface would be enough to make sure he would always be a sucker for her and everything she did or stood for - even her hatred towards pineapple pizza.

This he was sure of.

#getting into writing random oneshots just to practice writing more frequently #jake x amy #peraltiago #jake and amy #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfic #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #b99 fic #andy samberg #melissa fumero #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #peraltiago oneshot

[leydoodle]

Ben 10 OC: Cassie Williams HCs

(Messy 10 minute scribble AHAHAHA)

A compilation of all the info I have written so far about Cassie/Mobius. She’s still being improved so some of these might change in the future but the general structure of her storyline is in here....!!

HCs under the cut!

General

Cassie is the granddaughter of Hugo from her mother's side. During his time-travelling journey with Paradox, he discovered the tragic future of Cassie from the abuse of his niece. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be alive by that time in order to save his granddaughter. Upon this realization, Hugo asked a favor from Paradox that if he sees anything bad happening to Cassie, he would take care of her. Many years later, Paradox would fulfill this promise.

Her telekinesis power comes from her father's side of the family. Her DNA came from a tribe that was said to have interacted with angels back in ancient times. In reality, these angels are actually rogue alien species who have come down to Earth and mated with the said group, giving birth to a special group of half-breeds that later on became strong historical figures such as kings, warlords, and many more. As time passed by, the genes of the alien race became much weaker to the point that only their enhanced mind and the ability to use telekinesis remained. Though there are possibly more people who have the DNA, only 14 have been documented so far, with Cassie being the most recent one.

 She was the cause of the infamous 'Mutant Catastrophe' in Bellwood. An event in Ultimate Alien where an upset Cassie wrecked havocked with her newly-discovered powers after getting fed up with the torment she was subjected to in her school. During the mayhem, Ben who was a newly-acknowledged hero at the time, decided to work with an underground organization who focuses on studying mutants, in hopes of saving his best friend. During the event, Ben was heavily conflicted as to whether he should fight his beloved friend or save the people of Bellwood. In the end, he chose to do his duties as a hero at the cost of his best friend's detainment in the organization's lab. Later on during the series, Gwen mentions that the sight of a chained Cassie being taken away is a sight that Ben is still greatly traumatized from.

Prior to Omniverse, the Plumbers were negotiating with the underground organization for Cassie's freedom. By the time of Omniverse, The process ended in the Plumbers' favor and thus was able to get Cassie back (despite some particular arrangements). Ben was greatly relieved from this news and wanted to reconnect with his friend again. Due to how they previously left things between them, Cassie was rather scared of the hero and avoided interacting with him, much to Ben's despair. After Ben's return from his months of banishment during the Frogs of War, they were able to reconcile in the aftermath, with Cassie saying, "Life's too short to be upset at your best friend." Ever since then, Cassie became the third member of Ben and Rook's team.

After her detainment in the underground organization, Cassie has developed an irrational fear against humans, only with the exception of some Plumbers. Her phobia has caused her to only be comfortable around aliens.

 Harangue has sensationalized Cassie as "Bellwood's Mutant Disaster". Due to her affiliation with Ben Tennyson, Cassie is often the subject for the journalist's smear campaign against the hero. His notable point would be that Ben being friends with such a destructive being meant that he could easily choose her side over saving other people. Due to Cassie's past action of causing destruction in Bellwood, people are actually very scared of her and believes that the journalist has a valid point.

Cassie loves to pair her smoothies with powdered sugar donuts. It's a tradition she does everytime she passes by Mr. Smoothy, even after she became a time traveler. As Mobius, she often buys smoothies and donuts during sunrise, when the people of Bellwood are barely awake.

According to Paradox, Cassie is always fated to be linked to a Tennyson in every existing timelines and universe, though he indicated that they won't always be friends.

Ship ( Ben/Cassie = Benssie)

Ben sees Cassie as a reminder of his much more simple life before he became a world-renowned hero. According to him, every moment spent with her was like being a normal kid all over again. Though he liked the powers and capabilities he got ever since he became an omnitrix-holder, being given the responsibility as the universe's hero at such a young age caused him to lose his 'innocence' in a sense. Because of this, he often goes to his childhood best friend to atleast experience being a goofy and geeky teenager for some time before going back into action. Alongside this, Cassie is someone who is very dear to Ben. Having grown up together, she is basically considered a 'family' to the hero. Because of this, Ben is extremely overprotective of Cassie to the point the latter became somewhat dependent on him.

Ever since they were kids, Cassie always had deep feelings for the young hero. It was only until they became teenagers that she realized that her feelings were romantic. However, since this was a point in time when Ben was in a relationship with Julie, she chose to repress and bury her feelings towards him (an action she continued to do so, even in Omniverse).

 At first, Ben saw Cassie as merely a best friend, someone special but not particularly a romantic interest just yet. It wasn't until Cassie got assigned into Ben and Rook's team that the young hero started to develop deeper feelings towards his childhood friend. Afraid of once again hurting his best friend, he decided to hide his feelings. Despite that, he was still very affectionate to Cassie.

Cassie's tarnished reputation and destructive powers is what makes her scared to be around Ben. She knows that he's a hero and that the public greatly trusts him. If anything, she's worried that her being around him is going to make the people turn against the hero. Though she tried to keep her distance away from her Ben, he still ended up chasing her, reassuring that no matter what the public thinks, she's still his dearest friend.

Hints of her 'death' were foreshadowed by Ben 10K during his visit in Let's Do the Time War Again. Upon meeting Cassie once again, he almost became sentimental until Paradox stopped him. After the whole ordeal against the Time Beast, the older Ben asked for a hug from the blonde, which the latter gladly offered. Upon arriving to his original timeline, he can be seen shedding some tears for his best friend and lost love.

Cassie's demise caused Ben so much pain to the point that even after many years it was something he had a hard time recovering from. His longing for Cassie was one of the reasons why the earlier years of his marriage with Kai was messy. After conceiving Ken, Ben made a promise to Kai that he will finally let go of his best friend for the sake of their future. Due to this promise, all pictures and memories of Cassie was locked away for the sake of the hero's family. Ever since then, Cassie's name has been a taboo to the Tennyson family.

Ben and Cassie are both absolute geeks for Sumo Slammers. Their love for the franchise is one of the many things they share a deep connection with. According to Rook, once they start talking about it, the two can go on and on for hours without stopping.

Their playlist consists of the following songs: all about you - taeyeon /  cornelia street - taylor swift / say you won't let go - james arthur / kids in love - mayday parade / cardigan - taylor swift / way back home - SHAUN / i will always think about you - bojack horseman / eight - IU (ft. BTS Suga) / futarigoto - RADWIMPS

Life As Mobius

Cassie's relationship with Professor Paradox can be described as familial-like. Due to the latter's lack of knowledge of his prior life, he sees the young lady as he describes, as "a sister, a daughter, and a granddaughter". Though he may have given her the role of a time traveler, Paradox aims to bring Cassie back to her proper timeline before the effects of time travel makes her fully immortal.  Overall, his purpose of 'adopting' Cassie was to fulfill his promise to her grandfather and his former assistant, Hugo.

Paradox aims to make sure that Cassie has let go of her grudge and massive hatred to herself before bringing her back to her proper timeline. On the other hand, though she knows the consequences of time travelling for so long, Cassie doesn't mind being immortal as long as it means she won't go back to Bellwood. Knowing that this is what she thinks, Paradox hasn't told her about his plans.

 Similar to her mentor, Cassie later on picked up the habit of mixing up verb tenses whenever she's explaining an event that's either to happen or has happened.

She mostly wears a large variety of dresses during her life as Mobius. Her reason for sporting this kind of style is because she wanted to 'be in touch with her feminine side more'. Growing up, Cassie was often deprived of decent clothing and was forced to wear hand-me-downs from Gwen. Though she was given proper clothing during her stay with the Plumbers, she never really knew the feeling of wearing 'pretty dresses'. Since then, she's been obsessed with collecting dresses from different time periods.  

At some point in her time travelling journey, in a certain campsite, she meets a lost child who she decides to help find his parents.  It's later on revealed that the child was a young Ken Tennyson who got strayed away from his parents. When Ben asked who helped him find his way back, his son merely replied with saying, "the lady in the big white dress" obviously referring to Mobius. According to Ken, ever since that encounter, he's started to believe in the supernatural, believing that Mobius was some sort of forest deity.

 After approximately a hundred years worth of adventure, Paradox ended up taking Ken Tennyson under his tutelage after the kid got grounded from using his own omnitrix. At first, this was an idea that Cassie was heavily against, though she was stating that the kid is 'incompetent' though deep inside she was very uncomfortable with taking care of the child of they guy she had always loved. Cassie ended up taking the kid under her wings after seeing his desire in being a hero (which heavily reminded Cassie of her similar childhood ambitions).

 When he was a small child, Ken was curious about the 'Cassie' that people always mentioned to his father. According to him, there was an incident back then when he brought up the name to his father that later on caused a fight between his parents. Ever since that moment, he's disliked the name, stating that it's a name filled with bad memories.

 Since Ben hid all things related to his childhood with Cassie, Ken has never actually seen the face of Cassie. It doesn't help that everytime he travelled to the past as Spanner, she would often be in another place. Due to this, he doesn't know that Mobius is actually the Cassie he's been long curious about.

 Ken sees Mobius as his 'cranky aunt'. His childish and impulsive nature often irritated the time traveler to the point that she would always scold him for being reckless. Despite that, he holds his mentor in high regards due to her intense dedication on heroism. Cassie, on the other hand, sees Ken as the spitting image of Ben,though she sees that the kid has the capabilities to uphold his father's legacy.

 After her thousand years worth of journey as a time traveler, Cassie does end up resolving her long grudge and self-hatred. However, she wasn't too sure of returning to a normal life in Bellwood, due to the fact that the flow of events have been proven to have a much better outcome without her. She's later on convinced by Ben 10,000 (who was brought in by Ken) to come back to his time, which she ends up doing. The outcome of her return remains unknown.

#ben 10 oc #ben 10 fc #omniverse oc #oc: cassie #i like to ramble a lot

[raendown]

Commission Work

Examples of commission work I have completed! I am always open to newcomers so feel free to follow the link below and find out if I might be the right author for you! Commission Info

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost - Rated T+ Pairing: Tobirama/Kakashi Word count: 2,540 Summary: Kakashi takes shelter from a freak blizzard in a cave that looks relatively harmless. What he finds within is anything but.

The Winged Ones - Rated T+ Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word Count: 12,212 Summary: Village life was quiet up here on the mountain. Madara spent most of his time exploring the forests and the hills in search of the mythical creatures that ruled over their skies - yet hadn’t been seen in years. All he was asking was a single glance. What he got was so much more.

Forever Begins The Morning After - Rated T+ Pairing: Obito/Sasori Word count: 1686 Summary: Obito wakes up with a hangover, no memories, and a new ring on his finger.

Hang Your Hat On The Village Gates - Rated T+ Pairing: Tobirama/Kagami Word count: 2057 Summary: The war is over and Tobirama has long passed the Hokage’s hat to Kagami. After all they’ve gone through there are still some things they never talk about - but Kagami thinks it’s time they should.

Florid Flows The Dream - Rated G Pairing: Minato/Kakashi Word count: 2214 Summary: [Continuation of Chapter 137 of the SMC] Older now, Minato and Kakashi have been meeting in their dreams every night for twenty years. After so long together there’s only one thing between them they’ve never addressed. Minato doesn’t want to think about how long it would have taken them to talk about it if not for one perfectly innocent misunderstanding.

Cherry Service - Rated E Pairing: Kakashi/Sakura Word count: 2572 Summary: Their date hadn’t exactly gone to plan but that didn’t mean the night wasn’t salvageable.

Fly The Banner High and Proud - Rated T+ Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: 1940 Summary: Everyone has bad days. And everyone has that one special person that always makes it better.

Criminal Malpractice - Rated E Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: 4493 Summary: The Chief of Police and the boss of the local mob, an unlikely pairing for sure. Keeping their relationship a secret is hard, coming up with excuses for why they haven’t taken each other down yet is harder, but of course Madara always finds a way to complicate things that don’t need complicating.

Blood and Honey - Rated E Pairing: Kakashi/Yamato Word count: 4904 Summary: In which Kakashi is a vampire and Tenzou is the prey only too willing to be caught by his predator.

Mission Status: Failed Successfully - Rated M Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: 2356 Summary: After learning about this “Day of Fools” Madara sets out to prank Tobirama in his own unique way. His prank turns out a little too honest, Tobirama’s response is far from expected, and at the end of it all he’s not sure if he failed or succeeded but he does know he doesn’t mind the results.

Wood and Wine (Crack It Open) - Rated E Pairing: Kakashi/Yamato Word count: 2536 Summary: Just a bit of fun between two good friends. No strings attached and no commitments. Kakashi wouldn’t have things any other way.

One Night Is All We Need - Rated E Pairing: Kakashi/Sakura Word count: 3259 Summary: She’d known him for years. She knew exactly what he wanted as soon as she realized he was flirting with her - and Sakura was definitely up for whatever Kakashi had in mind. No strings attached? No problem.

Duality - Rated M Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: ongoing Summary: Walking patrol around a university for mages probably sounded like a wild time but Tobirama has never found it all that exciting. He’s not even technically supposed to be here. When responding to a tripped alarm becomes a desperate attempt to stay alive, however, excitement is the last thing on his mind. All he’s ever wanted is a quiet life alone with his books until he finds himself bound to Uchiha Madara in the most impossible way and finally learns to think about more than just himself - in a way.

Light A Fire Under The Mountain - Rated E Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: 5863 Summary: After all the things they had gone through together and the ten long years they had been mated, Tobirama would have thought Madara understood that he didn’t need gifts to stay here. There was no place he could possibly be happier than tucked under the mountain with a dragon to warm his bed and all the passion that entailed.

Memoir Redacted - Rated G Pairing: Kakashi/Yamato Word count: 4273 Summary: After a car accident leaves Kakashi without his memories Tenzou finds himself the only one having trouble moving forward - mostly because he is the only one left to remember all the years of being happily married, years that now exist only in his own mind. He visits still, of course he does, but over the past few months he’s discovered that hope is hard to cling to when your other half is already letting go.

Icha Icha Made Me Do It - Rated E Pairing: Kakashi/Sakura Word count: 3792 Summary: Kakashi proposes a naughty little challenge inspired by something he read in Icha Icha and Sakura takes to this new game just a bit better than he expected.

Backstage Pass - Rated E Pairing: Madara/Kakashi Word count: 3653 Summary: Madara’s never been a big part of Kakashi’s acting career, he’s just not a fan of live theater, but if it’s that important to his partner then he’ll survive going to see one show. Or at least, that was his attitude at first. By the end of Kakashi’s first appearance on stage he’s had somewhat of a change of heart - and his pants are much tighter.

Love At First Shake - Rated T+ Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: 1341 Summary: They meet for the first time twice and somehow Madara manages to make a fool of himself both times. But what else is new?

Calamity Cuisine - Rated T+ Pairing: Izuna/Tobirama Word count: 4837 Summary: Izuna comes home to a kitchen filled with smoke and wonders, rightly, what the fuck. Since when does Tobirama cook? Since never, as it turns out, no matter how many times he continues to try.

影の縛る - Rated E Pairing: Kakashi/Shikamaru Word count 4013 Summary: Coming home after a long day to see only one light left on in their house, Kakashi finds quickly himself bound by shadows and helpless to the whims of the master who wields them. He loves every second of it. Just as he loves every second of this life they’ve built together.

Flimflammery and Fun - Rated T+ Pairing: Minato/Kakashi Word count: 4076 Summary: A bit of planning, a magician on the street, and a Hokage who just doesn't know how to properly take advantage of a situation when it's handed to him.

Through the Night Unending - Rated T+ Pairing: none Word count: 8384 Summary: Of all the battles he's fought in his lifetime, figuring out how to cope with surviving is somehow the worst. If he is the future that tried to erase the past then what place is there for him in this new present where he must face that everything he's ever believed in is wrong?

Beauty in the Beast - Rated T+ Pairing: Madara/Tobirama Word count: 48,612 Summary: When his brother disappears coming home from town Madara goes looking for him only for both to end up taken prisoner in a castle hidden by magic generations ago. The candelabras talk, the furniture sleeps, and a great white beast hides himself away in the eastern wing. As he uncovers the story behind this place and gets to know the last small group of 'survivors' Madara gradually makes a new home here in the least likely of places.

The Second Act - Rated E Pairing: MadaraKakashi Word count: 4111 Summary: Kakashi enjoying a bit of Halloween fun leads to a return of the persona that Madara so enjoyed seeing him use onstage - with even better results than last time.

Love in a Memory - Rated E Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 27,919 Summary: They wake in a forest far from home. Bodies lay dead and broken across the clearing. All they can remember is their names. (Madara falls in love with a single look.)

Then Finally A Dawn - Rated T+ Pairing: none Word count: 17,397 Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don’t get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama’s obsession with watching him?

Seafoam - Rated G Pairing: TobiramaMinato Word count: 1399 Summary: They say you should never meet your heroes - but when has Minato ever listened to good sense?

Ice Bound and On Fire  - Rated G Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4149 Summary: A child lost to the sea in more ways that one, a creature of water curious about humanity, and a human who finds beauty in the water. Can meetings still be chance if you sought them out yourself?

First Comes Love - Rated G Pairing: ShikamaruSakura Word count: 1897 Summary: Whether or not they cover all the usual milestones of a relationship could not matter less to either of them as long as they have each other. And maybe, after they talk about it, a little more than that.

#rae writes #commission work #writing masterpost

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

The Ethereal Gates of Wisdom

These past few days have been a bit of an unusual adventure. It’s one of those things I’ve been putting off for a while until the opportunity’s right. Traveling to the Ethereal Gates of Wisdom is no easy feat so it’s important to have a strategy on how to get there without getting lost.

According to Jamie, most people give up halfway because it takes too long to get there. That’s why they said only those who truly seek answers are the ones who make it to the Gates. Jamie gave me the key years ago and since then that adventure has been sitting on the back burner until a couple days ago.

The reason why I finally decided to visit the Gates is for Daisy Jane. Now that she’s been living at the campsite for a couple weeks, she’s been doing a lot of soul searching and reevaluation. The past year hasn’t been good to her so I’m glad that she’s finally found a light at the end of a long and seemingly endless tunnel.

A change of scenery can do wonders for your mind, especially if you’ve been stagnating for a while. That’s why Daisy Jane left Rosevine - because the place she once called home was suffocating her instead of letting her bloom and grow.. That’s how I felt too, as well as other friends like Emmaline, Minnie, and Robin. 

It’s not that we don’t like Rosevine, it’s just that we outgrew our little hometown. Our roots are still in Rosevine, but we’ve branched out to other places. Like flowers on a tree, we are carried away by the wind, floating and fluttering as we find our way in this vast universe. Some take root, others continue to fly freely.

Ever since Daisy Jane joined me at the camp, she’s been on a creative roll. For the past several months she was suffering the absolute worst art block along with a bunch of other problems that wore her down. After leaving home, she traveled for a bit before settling in Neptunia. The village, while it was nice, didn’t do much for her. So that’s why I suggested she move in the cabin and since then she’s made it her home.

For a while Daisy Jane has been considering opening a shop where she sells handmade crafts and stationery. I think she’s the kind of person who can pull that off because not only she’s super artsy, but she’s also organized and has the self discipline to run her own business. Unfortunately her family’s the main reason why she hasn’t started a shop yet as they don’t think it’s viable. As long as she was living under the same roof as them and not working a “real” job with income, an online business was out of the question.

Now that she’s out on her own with no parents or siblings to hound her as well as having her own space and income, Daisy Jane feels like she’s in the right headspace to design products for her potential shop. She’s been on a roll designing sticker sheets, which will be her main thing before branching out to other products like notebooks and enamel pins. Since she loves drawing florals and ephemera, Daisy Jane plans to call her store Happy Floral Mail, which I think is very fitting.

I’m not being biased, I would definitely buy Daisy Jane’s stickers. After all, she’s one of many artists I find inspiration from so why wouldn’t I want to support her?

Apparently a while ago Daisy Jane told her sister about her ideas regarding opening a shop as Mae’s in college studying digital media so she’s an expert on various programs. Mae’s a smart kid who means well but sometimes she can be a bit too much. 

Basically if Daisy Jane decided to co-run her shop with Mae, it would have failed before it even launched. The biggest issue would be creative differences because they’re basically opposites in terms of everything. It’s like telling an artist who likes to draw flowers that they have to draw cars because that’s what’s trending and if you disagree then you’re being ungrateful because you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about. 

So it’s that, plus the fact that Mae can be weirdly controlling and nosy at times. Like she’s strangely obsessed with who Daisy Jane keeps in contact with. Apparently if Daisy Jane isn’t constantly video chatting or talking on the phone or talking about socializing with someone, then she doesn’t have friends according to Mae logic. I get that Mae’s the kind of person who talks about everything - even when it’s not in her place - but she really needs to learn how to let people be.

Another thing about Mae which is pretty recent is how she sees most of Daisy Jane’s friends like me and Emmaline. Once upon a time Mae used to look up to Emmaline because she thought she was cool as she was always going on magical adventures. Now she kinda looks down on Emmaline because she doesn’t meet her definition of success. As in Emmaline never went to school so she has no degrees as well as no job or career (freelancing and odd jobs don’t count) so in Mae’s eyes, Emmaline’s a layabout.

Having grown up with Emmaline, calling her a layabout is such a misunderstanding. Being half elemental, Emmaline’s upbringing is far from ordinary. She spent her whole childhood and adolescence trying to bring her two worlds together, often putting herself in a position no one should be forced in and although she helped a lot of people, it had a detrimental effect on her mental health. Considering how Emmaline pretty much spent a good part of her life playing either peacemaker, therapist, fleeing war criminal, and diplomat - and is now finally finding footing by traveling the universe and enjoying life - to call her a layabout is an insult.

And yes, this is in response to a vague post Mae made in regards to not being on Emmaline and Minnie’s guest list for their wedding. Daisy Jane shared it to us and we all rolled our eyes collectively because yikes Mae. Like first of all, it wasn’t anything personal, it’s just that the wedding will take place while she’s studying abroad so there’s no way she was going to make it. Also, Emmaline and Minnie aren’t as close to her as they are to Daisy Jane so there’s really no reason why she should be offended at not being invited.

I’m curious as to what Mae would vague about me when she finds out where Daisy Jane’s been living. Don’t get me wrong, Mae’s a very capable girl who’s gonna be super successful but she really needs to get off her high horse. It’s understandable that she has a chip on her shoulder that pushes her to be hard working but as she’s gotten older she seems to have fallen into the mindset that if you’re not working your ass off, then you’re not worthy.

Anyway, now that Daisy Jane’s found her footing in terms of her creative spark returning and getting away from those holding her back, she feels like she’s ready to take a leap of faith. She says she still has a long way to go before opening a shop but the timing feels right. That’s why I decided to take her to the Gates - to give her the extra push she needs to bring herself one step closer to making her dream a reality.

First, we headed to the Witches Woods to retrieve the ruby key, which will lead us to a portal. Since it’s not too far from Camellia, Theda tagged along to guide us through the woods as she’s somewhat familiar with certain parts of it. The trails can be long and confusing so it’s good to have a navigator help us out. 

The deeper in the woods we go, the more dangerous it gets. The trees act as a defense system so if you’re not careful, you might get pelted by poison fruit or clawed by sharp branches. Plus there’s hostile creatures to watch out for as well, especially the giant spiders that usually come out of nowhere. Despite the seemingly harsh environment, the witches we came across are friendly and some were able to help point us in the right direction when the trees played tricks on us.

After the woods came the Floating Freeway, a well known highway for traveling through dimensions. There, Celinda joined in on the adventure as she can easily weave in and out of places easily with her powers. With her help, navigating the crowded freeway will take about half the time. 

From there, we headed to the Scattering Skies where we have to travel by magic carpet. It’s a rough ride as the winds are unpredictable so it’s important to have a pilot who’s just as reckless - meaning Celinda. And there’s also swinging swords with sharp edges floating freely about so we gotta worry about that too. Getting through the Skies and retrieving the jade key in one piece is no easy feat so if that isn’t enough to discourage you from going to the Gates, then that says a lot about your character in my opinion.

At the crossing, the jade key led us to another portal, taking us to the Floundering Forests, where we met up with Lenie. She and her parents have been exploring the forest for the past few weeks so they’re somewhat familiar with the trails. Lenie always wanted to see the Gates so it was the perfect opportunity! 

The thing about the Floundering Forests is that we need to arm ourselves with magic wands. Some areas have been overtaken by city folks who want to build factories so they’ll attack anything that moves. They’re also not the kind of people you want to get on the wrong side of so a basic sleep spell will do the trick to slip past them. Also, this forest tends to play tricks on you too so it’s important to keep track of where you’re going.

After finding the carnelian key, we headed to the Layering Lagoon, navigating by submarine piloted by Lenie. Through there, we locate the ruins of Castellana, which will lead us to the Gates. Lenie drove the sub, Celinda and I distracted lagoon monsters, Theda helped navigate, and Daisy Jane supervised everyone.

It really takes a team to get to the Gates of Ethereal Wisdom! There’s no way anyone can make it on a solo adventure, especially when confronting the currents and inhabitants of the Layering Lagoon. 

By my calculations, it took us about three days - starting from Witches Woods - to get to the Gates. If Theda, Celinda, and Lenie hadn’t tagged along I guess it’ll take me and Daisy Jane at least twice as long. It was a long trip, but it was totally worth it!

Stepping into the Ethereal Gates of Wisdom is like walking straight into a void. First you feel like you’re falling, then slowly you realize that you’re actually floating. You feel weightless like a leaf in the wind, floating freely without a care in the world. For a second I forgot that I had a physical form - and that was a trippy experience. A bit disoriented, very much exhilarated, small and alone yet wide and full - all of it crashing in on you.

I still can’t put into words how exactly I feel after stepping out of the Gates. I feel certain yet uncertain at the same time - like I have a better idea of what I want but I also realize how little I actually know about things. Something’s changed, that I know for sure, but whatever it is, I can’t quite put my finger on it yet.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

[fanaticalfunhouse]

Sometimes...

I feel a little worn out of beetlejuice.

Just...burnt out.

I love it.

I found a community of people where I belong.

But...

Sometimes I feel just...tired.

Im afraid to let go of beetlejuice and never will but I feel like I have to bend to the expectations and also break those of others around me.

Im afraid of losing...this.

This wonderful community of people who love and enjoy something that is so...different.So weird and odd to others.For once...Im not a weirdo.

Im afraid of losing it.

But Im afraid that Ill naturally lose it.

Im afraid Ill forget this...and all of beetlejuice.

I havent rewatched the musical boot in about three weeks to nearly a month.

Ive watched it about three times now.

Im scared...if I watch it,what if I forget everything else? what if I become annoying? I dont want to lose anything.

What if I forget the steven universe stuff Ive watched?

What if by watching stuff from one fandom...I lose the other?

I dont want to lose anything.

But I feel like its getting pulled away from me by my own mind telling me I should stop with the foolishness...

I just...want to be okay.

Im scared of losing this.All of it.Im bad with things I love...I always imagine things...without them...what might happen if I lose all of this...lose everything I love...

But...I dont want to...

I want my brain to not be like this.

Whenever I like something so much...I get obsessed...hyperfixated...its not normal.

I joined tumblr because Im not normal.I...dont want to lose tumblr and everything on it too...My entire account and things are based around beetlejuice,hell I follow practically only beetlejuice accounts and follow all the beetlejuice accounts I find even vaguely connected to it.

Tumblr has been...my safe space.My home.My physical home isnt...nice.My mom's boyfriend is mean and Im weak.I cant do anything.Im physically incapable of things at all.Hell,I have spent all day in bed because standing up makes me dizzy.My head hurts.Im just...weak.

On tumblr...Im not.

Ive known I was weak my entire life.I cant even eat new food I havent eaten for ages without wanting to get rid of it.I know Im whats called a picky eater but its past that...I dont want to be like this...I dont want to be stuck eating food I know isnt helping.

I know Im lack a shit ton of nutrients.Im surprised Im even alive on the diet Ive had.If you can it that.I forget to eat half the time! I cant even feel hunger anymore.Ive...trained myself to be like this.

Beetlejuice saved me from one of my weaknesses...My arm...I have dermatophagia,a behavioral disorder...Beetlejuice pushed the ball to get it rolling...To make me stop for at least a while.

But...Ive heard of what could happen in acting auditions...Im scared...

I dont even have an actual parent.They just...ignore my existence.All day long.Ive never had one...I cant even talk to my mom because Walter is here.He will hear me.He will lie about me again and again.He told mom I lied about what our neighbor did to me...he acts like Im an attention seaker...he says Im a stupid little girl because Im an atheist.

Im about 15...A kid,stuck here.

Invisible to them because I cant even express my facial emotions around them...I grew up in general fear of males normally anyways.And then the george ordeal...He knows a loud voice frightens me.He know how I am and just lies about me constantly.

Yet...I somewhat believe him when he says Im a controlling manipulating little bitch.I grew up from about 1 to 5 in foster care...I remember a lot of it.Ive always had trust issues and learned how to lie.I can use my ability to lie to manipulate people.They believe an innocent kid...I learned basic psychology by just watching them...I understand what they expect...

Its not like I want to manipulate people.I havent tried to in years.But in school,the mask is on.I cant be myself.Not fully.Theyll be upset.So...if I just pretend Im aroace...pretend Im fine.They accept it...to an extent.

Beetlejuice made me feel like I didnt have to do this.Didnt have to be like this.Didnt have to be trapped like this.

Like maybe...I can stop being so weak and fragile.

Maybe I can have the energy to be happy more often and not so...empty.

I dont want to lose it.

It convinced me to try and be myself...but I didnt...not out in public.I couldnt make myself do it.

Im too scared...Ive worn my mask for so long...Ive never taken it off out there before...

But I let out one thing.

My liking of beetlejuice.

My 'friend' was upset.She didnt like me being so energetic and happy.Im always quiet,almost sad.

She didnt like it.

Im sick of it.

Im sick of this.

Im just chained down again by the monster of my mind...I wasnt like this originally while I was obsessed with beetlejuice.I thought I could fight back against my mind.

Yet here I am...again,chained down and held down from being who I am by the monster.

What the hell would anyone think if they realized how well I was doing and that I just got beaten down again and was giving up practically?

I go threw these.

Dark episodes.Periodic sadness and general depressing feeling.Its like Im drowning in a well.

Void episodes exist too...officially called dissociative episodes...

Whenever I get void episodes they lead to dark episodes.

I always think during the dark episodes that I should leave the things I love.Like this fandom.

I hate them.

But...maybe its true.

Maybe I should.

But...

I dont want to.

I want to stay and be happy like I always have.

Im just scared...I might leave on accident.

Im just...scared of my own mind and scared of what will happen.

You dont want to be too perceptive as a kid.Dont let your mind get away from you...dont be afraid.Talk to your family and be friendly with them.

Otherwise...you might end up like me...scared of what you think and eventually scared of your own mind.

#beetlejuice #mental health

[ghostofviperwrites]

Obsessed

Requested by: @paganbabe

Featuring:  Evil

Word Count: 1752

Warnings: language, sexual discussions, somewhat stalkerish behavior

47.          “I want to take care of you.”

Ayama was young and naïve.  She was also in love.   From her first day as an intern working backstage with New Japan she had been drawn to the one known as Evil.   Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be aware of her existence beyond being just another face running around.   Ayama had been carefully observing him for the past few months trying to get a hint as to what kind of woman caught his attention, but so far had come up blank.   So she did what she could to stay in his orbit and hope somehow, someway, she caught his attention.  

Watching the monitors Ayama saw the tag match the entire stable was participating wrapping up and hurried to the backstage entrance with a bottle of water and a towel in her hands.   As soon Evil was through the curtain she was there smiling as he took the offered towel with a grumbled thanks.  He even gave her a smile as she offered him the water and she was almost giddy when their fingers brushed as he took the offering.  

“Where’s our water?” Naito asked with an arched eyebrow.  She might not think so, but outside of Evil, the entire stable was well aware of her infatuation with Evil.  Ayama wasn’t exactly subtle in her lusting.  Her blatant favoritism of him was definitely noticed. 

“Oh,” she said barely sparing him a glance.  “I’m sure someone will get it for you.”  She said with a nonchalant wave of her hand before returning her attention to Evil who was currently pouring the bottle of water over his head.  Ayama had to stop herself from licking her lips as she watched the droplets run down his chest.   She was caught off guard when he shoved the empty bottle into her chest and stalked past without another word.  

“You do realize you are the New Japan intern, not Evil’s personal intern right?”  Naito asked with a sneer as he brushed past her followed by the rest of the group. 

Walking into the locker room Naito flopped down on the sofa, leaning back and closing his eyes.  “You need to tell your little girlfriend to get her shit together.”  He said to Evil.

“Who?”  Evil asked looking at Naito in confusion.  

“Your stalker.”  Hiromu pointed out helpfully as he stripped out of his gear.  “The rest of us are going to die from lack of hydration while she’s so fixated on you.”  

“Is she?”  Evil asked tilting his head as he tried to recall exactly who they were speaking about. 

“You’re so fucking oblivious.”  Sanada chuckled.  “Maybe just have a word with her, tell her to stop ignoring the rest of us.”  

“Okay.”  Evil easily agreed with a shrug.   “You’ll have to point her out to me though because I have no fucking clue who she is.” 

“Poor girl is head over heels for you and you have no idea who she is.”  Hiromu giggled finding this absolutely hilarious. 

“How the hell is she in love with me when I’ve barely spoken to her? And how do I not know this?”  Evil asked.  He felt completely lost wondering how he had missed what every other member of his stable seemed to be well informed on.

Sanada and Evil left the room in search of the lovelorn intern wandering through the halls, until they found her in the cafeteria.  Evil ran a critical gaze over her, wondering why she hadn’t garnered his attention. 

 “Why haven’t you fucked her yet?”  Evil asked as he checked her out.  She was a good looking girl.  Someone that would be on Sanada’s radar.  Someone who should have been on his radar, but apparently something about her didn’t speak to him.   

“She’s too hung up on you.”  Sanada said with a shrug.  “Not a shred of interest in anyone else.”  

“That must be a blow to your ego.”  Evil teased. 

“Whatever,” Sanada said rolling his eyes.  “I could fuck her if I wanted to put the effort in.”  

“Would you like me to put a word in for you?  Tell her she needs to fuck you as a favor to me?”  Evil chuckled.  He loved needling Sanada, get the polished man all flustered.   One of his favorite pastimes.  Of course Sanada gave it back to him just as much. 

“I don’t need any pity fucks thank you very much.”  Sanada griped.  “As I said if I really wanted her I would have her.  Regardless of how she feels about you.”  

“Whatever.”  Evil said with a smirk.  “Let’s get this over with.  I have things to do.”  

Evil approached Ayama, sliding into the chair next to her and broaching the subject of her slights to his teammates.   For the first time he really saw what they were talking about.  Her feelings were written plain as day on her face and frankly Evil felt a bit uncomfortable with her open adoration and the second he could make his getaway he was getting far away from her.

“I want to take care of you.” Ayama said earnestly to Evil.  “I want to make sure you have everything you need.” 

“Look Ayama, what I need is for you to take care of my brothers too, okay? I don’t like you neglecting them to take care of me.  You want to keep me happy then you keep them happy too.  Understood?” 

Ayama nodded eagerly, her hand moving to rest on his thigh.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy Evil.”  She vowed frowning when Evil removed her hand and quickly made his escape. 

“Fuck, I feel dirty.”   Evil said as he rejoined Sanada glancing over his shoulder at Ayama who was staring at him with utter adoration. 

‘I think she owes you a cigarette after that.”  Sanada joked.  He had watched the whole interaction and had been surprised at the outright lust that had been on display.   That girl definitely didn’t hold back her feelings and he was again surprised that Evil had been completely oblivious to it up to that point. 

After Evil spoke to Ayama her performance improved as she put her all into keeping the men he referred to as his brothers happy.   If that was what it took to keep her on his radar she was more than happy to comply.  When he had come over and spoken to her a few days ago she had thought she died and gone to heaven.   His voice was deep and husky and she could listen to him talk all day.  Unfortunately his friend was waiting for him by the cantina door limiting the time she could spend with Evil.  She had tried her best to keep him close, but eventually he had patted her on the shoulder and walked away.  

Now Ayama was determined to show him how good she would be at taking care of him and respecting his wishes.  He would have no choice but to realize how great she was.   She made sure she was at work looking her best every day, wearing the most revealing and flattering outfits she could in hopes of catching his eye and made sure they had everything they could possibly need without having to ask.

After her two days off Ayama returned to work with a bright smile on her face, a tray of the favorite coffees of LIJ in hand as she hurried towards their locker room.  Ayama was confident she had beaten the group here, so didn’t bother knocking, freezing in the doorway as she walked in on Evil with a pretty black haired girl straddling his lap. 

“That’s right baby, grind down on my cock,” Evil said, one hand in her hair, the other digging into her hip as he drug her mouth down to his.  

 She met his lips hungrily, tongues swirling around each other as she rolled her hips down on Evil’s cock.    The intensity increased, his hands roaming her body and whimpers escaping as Ayama found herself unable to tear her gaze away.  Evil’s hands slipped underneath her skirt and found nothing but bare flesh his eyes met hers and he smirked.    

“No panties?” He asked rubbing his finger along her slit. 

“Easy access.”  She said. “Didn’t want to waste unnecessary time.  I just wanted to give you want you wanted.”

The two of you were so lost in each other that neither of you noticed Ayama opening the door, freezing in her movements as she watched, tears springing to her eyes as she watched.  When he pulled his cock free Ayama couldn’t stand it anymore and with a muffled cry she turned away quietly closing the door, and hurrying away from the scene of her heart break.  

“Ayama?”  Fumi asked as her friend barreled into their makeshift office, face red and tears falling from her eyes.    “What’s wrong?” 

“E…Evil.”  Ayama stuttered dropping onto the desk chair and putting her head on the table while sobs wracked through her body. 

“What did he do?”  Fumi asked coming to rub Ayama’s shoulders, trying to offer some measure of comfort. 

“He has a girlfriend!”  Ayama wailed.

“A girlfriend?”  Fumi parroted.

“Yes a girlfriend.  A beautiful perfect gorgeous sexy girlfriend.”  Ayama sniffled.  

Fumi frowned continuing to rub Ayama and murmuring soothing words.  This just didn’t seem right.  She hadn’t heard of Evil having a girlfriend. 

“Are you sure that she’s his girlfriend?  Did he say that?” Fumi asked trying to get some answers.

“Not exactly,”   Ayama said.   “But they were practically dry humping in the locker room.  I left when it was pretty clear they were about to have sex.”  She said bitterly.

“Ayama, just because he’s having sex with someone doesn’t mean they’re together.” Fumi reassured her friend.  “There’s still hope.” 

“Fumi, he barely knows I’m alive.”  Ayama cried giving Fumi pause. This was true, Evil had never paid more than the barest of attention to Ayama.  Or any of the other interns for that matter.   He barely spoke to them, usually grunts of thanks or things along those lines and only that one outright conversation he had with Ayama recently.  

Fumi spent the next half hour waving off Ayama’s concerns.  She convinced her that if she loved Evil as much as she said she did that she had to fight for him.  By the time her shift started Ayama was convinced she could make Evil love her as much as she did him.  She would make him.  

#evil fanfic #evil imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

[bonernas]

A Song of Bobs and Berts

Part 2/7

Word Count: 4,270

Disclaimer: This is a crackfic about the different Bobsonas, based on actor Robert Downey Jr. and his questionable fashion sense. It also includes some hints on other people and things related to the MCU. For more info about the Bobsonas and their respectful creators, please check the link below!

Warnings: rated T, no Bobs were harmed in the making of this fic, mentions of (use of) drugs, swearing, this is a mobster fic set in the noire genre so blood, weapons and violence might become a thing, skipped the typical homophobia and racism tho but a lot of people use roids and crystal

Summary:  When Bobster Di Seta, one of Twunky Town’s most feared mobsters, finds out that Boberto Laineux, brother of Bobster’s arch enemy, Robert “The Bobfather” Laineux, was elected the city’s new mayor, he needs to put an end to the reign of the french mafia. To infiltrate the Laineux family and increase the sales of his own drugs, he orders his handsome underling, Steeb, to seduce the only heir of the Bobfather: Bobling Laineux, the doe-eyed billionare playboy. But just when Steeb discovers that there’s more to the young mobster than good looks and sassy one-liners, their blooming romance is put to the test by a cold-blooded murder. Will the only unbribable cop of Twunky Town’s police force solve this case before the city falls into war? Or will the rivalry of the two mobster clans turn everything into ashes?

A Story based on the RDJ spectrum

Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Chapter Two - A Clash of Hunks

Unlike Steeb, I went home alone that night. Not even a whole bottle of fine scotch could wash away the bitterness of watching my fellow detectives goof around with Twunky Town’s mafia elite, joking like they were old friends from college. None of them even batting an eye on the vivid fluctuation of happy pills, most guests way too tipsy to even try and be discrete about it.

This remained the schedule for the next couple weeks. Robert Laineux baiting vice squad with fancy venues and parties, my colleagues shutting their eyes and ears for the sake of free booze and an occasional tête-á-tête, and me occupying the most secluded table for me and my bitter thoughts. Why I still showed up even if I had no intention to become one of the Bobfather’s footmen? Well, because the reward for openly declining the french mafia’s generosity is a tailored pair of concrete boots, and I’m more the slipper kind of guy.

One cold and damp morning in April I woke up even more hungover than usual, dragging myself to the PD to let this city drain some more of my mental stability. My colleagues were already at their desks, chatting gleefully. We would be off for another day of surveilling people that weren’t a real threat and doing anything but our actual work; maybe arrest some poor fella who tried to mess with the wrong mafioso, but that’d be it. Or so I thought.

When chief Prime entered with a stern face and two men in suits at his flank, I couldn’t help to feel somewhat hopeful.

 Steeb woke up to something soft tickling his cheek. He blinked sleepily and got confused for a second. Right, this wasn’t his tiny downtown apartment. He hadn’t slept in his own bed all week. In fact, he had spent all his nights in the largest bedroom of a neat little townhouse owned by the city’s most feared mobster, trying to seduce his son. On behest of his boss, the mobster’s fiercest rival. Well, way to start the day, Steeb.

Early April sun found its way through a small gap in a pair of heavy royal blue curtains and illuminated the pristine features of Bobling’s face resting on his chest. A sheepish smile snuck on Steeb’s lips as his fingers gently combed through his sweetheart’s tousled locks. The younger man sighed and cuddled deeper into Steeb’s side, his breath warm and soft on bare skin.

Steeb remembered their first night together, almost two months ago. From the ride home in Bobling’s crimson red Bentley to waking up tangled in silk sheets and feeling pleasantly sore, it was nothing but heated, sensual and passionate. And staged, so that Bobster Di Seta could outsmart the Bobfather.

But to be honest, Steeb thought while placing a soft kiss on his beau’s temple, he began to savor waking up with the young mobster next to him. On their first few rendezvous’ Bobling was ridiculously enchanting, flirting shamelessly with him, perfectly aware of his effect on the blonde. He only learned about his softer side on their sixth date, when Steeb took his sweetheart for a nightly stroll through the park and Bobling fawned over a kitten that crossed their way.

Watching the heir of the Laineux family kneeling on the pathway in slacks worth a small fortune, cooing and speaking softly with his new furry friend, it did something with Steeb. When they returned back to the townhouse that night, it was the first time that he forgot the purpose of his charade and just indulged in the touch of soft lips caressing his neck and the sensation of delicate fingers tracing his hip bone.

While Steeb was still fighting to admit how smitten he was already, Bobling woke up, gaze slowly focusing on the bare chest he was resting on. He stretched with a small yawn and placed a sloppy kiss on Steeb’s lips - or at least he tried.

“Mornin’”, he mumbled against the blonde’s cheek. He felt Steeb shift, harboring him in his big and strong arms. Definitely something Bobling could get used to.

“Morning, sleepyhead”, Steeb chuckled. He left a small trail of pecks on the mobster’s jawline and was just about to nuzzle his face into soft brown curls when a loud knock on the door made both of them jump. The person outside didn’t deem it necessary to wait for being asked in but just rushed inside with large, urgent steps.

“For God’s sake, Barney, didn’t your maman teach you any manners?”, Bobling yelped. Barney Bucket, head of his security guard, strode over to the windows as if he hadn’t heard his boss. He opened the curtains with a resolute tuck before he turned around and faced the two men, completely unimpressed by their bewildered state and lack of clothes.

“You have to get up, Sir. Your father needs you in his office as soon as possible. The chief of the TTPD called half an hour ago; I’m afraid it’s something serious.”

Bobling sighed and crawled out of the huge four poster, scurrying over to his walk-in closet. The moment he went past his guard, Barney turned and shot Steeb a disapproving look. The blonde already had a hard time untangling the sheets to cover at least some of his exposed skin, and the other man’s piercing glares didn’t make it any easier. He felt like an intruder. Well, technically, he was, or at least he was supposed to be one.

Bobling returned fully dressed and ruffled his hair a few times to get rid of his bed head. He rushed to the door, followed by Barney, but came to a halt abruptly to turn back to Steeb. 

“Love, I’m sorry, my father’s not the kind of person you keep waiting. Feel at home and ask Barney if you need something. He’s gonna get you some breakfast and will drive you back home. I’m afraid this is going to take some time”, the young mobster said with a resentful look. Steeb flashed him a smile and nodded.

Barney didn’t seem all too pleased with his new task, but remained silent until his boss left and hurried down the hallway. With the sound of Bobling’s steps fading, he turned back to Steeb, casually leaning on the door frame and piercing the blonde one with menacing stares.

Steeb tried to not take it personally. He got up, holding the sheets awkwardly draped around his hips with one hand, and picked up his clothes with the other. Barney seemed to have no intention to leave; he just stood there and watched Steeb’s every move. Only when he finally found the other sock and headed over to the roomy walk-in the guard switched positions, now leaning in the closets door frame, forcing it to remain open. Steeb sighed, dropped his clothes on one of the chairs and turned back to him, one brow raised.

“Care to wait outside while I change?”

“Why? Got something to hide, golden boy?”, Barney snarled. Something in his tone told Steeb that they were not talking about inches.

“Actually, yes. I don’t know what your problem is, but last time I checked this wasn’t a cabaret. So mind your own business, please.”

“Oh don’t worry, I do.” Barney snickered, but his brows remained furrowed. “It is my business to keep Mr. Laineux and his family safe, to protect them. Especially from scum like Bobster Di Seta and his beefy little henchman here.”

Steeb gulped. Who was this guy and how did he know about his connection with the Di Seta family? He tried to keep his pokerface but the brunette must’ve seen him flicker for a moment. Barney left his spot at the frame and closed the distance in two slow, calculating steps.

“D’you have any idea how easy it’d be for me to just kick in your pearly whites and make it look like an accident? You’re not the first piece of trash I dragged out of this room. You’re by far not the first labagiu trying to get to Mr. Laineux through his son’s pants, and I’ve had enough of it. Put your clothes on and get the fuck out of here.” With this he turned to go back to the bedroom, but Steeb wasn’t having any of it. 

“Listen here, Freundchen, I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with your boss’ love life, but miss me with the bullshit. We’re both two grown men and so is the guy who, by the way, gave you an order. I don’t care for the people that were here before me and especially not for you and your paranoid conspiracies. I’m here for Bobling because I want to, not because I was ordered, and if he’d ask me to, I’d leave and never come back. But until then, I’ll come if he wants my company. And if you’re still so bitter about my presence here, go and tell him your cute little story, let’s see how funny he finds it.”

Barney didn’t move an inch, didn’t even blink. Steeb had dropped the sheet when he strode over to Bobling’s guard, stopping only inches in front of him, using the height difference to tower over the brunette menacingly. His nudity did his intimidating appearance no harm - in fact his bare muscles flexing made his speech even more threatening. Barney’s face remained stern and unmoved, and without a word he turned around and left the bedroom, closing the door a tat too harsh to pass as relaxed.

Steeb took a deep breath. That was close, way too close. He wondered if Barney actually believed him, or if he would tell Bobling about his suspicions anyway. However, he had to get dressed and back to report to his boss, so he skipped the shower and just slipped back into his clothes, giving his reflection in the gold-framed mirror a quick scan before heading out for a cab. Orders or not, he wouldn’t let Barney drive him anywhere. The guy would probably crash into a bridge pier just to get rid of him.

While the cab driver navigated through the lazy morning traffic, Steebs thoughts kept wandering back to what just happened. He straight up lied about his true intentions to the french mafia’s head bodyguard. Didn’t feel like a lie, though. There was no point in denying that he felt oddly close to the heir of Laineux family, and that Bobling was quite fond of him, too. They went from passionate, light-minded nights to morning kisses and cuddles so fast, and just thinking of holding the handsome beau in his arms, reveling in the sweet scent of his skin, made it hard for Steeb to focus on what he was about to do: Meeting Mr. Di Seta for further instructions on how to fool the man he obviously had fallen for.

 Robert Laineux’ office was decadent, to put it nicely. The dark, noble bookshelves looked like someone spent all day to polish them; a neat little fire burnt in a fireplace the size of my car, covered in ornaments. His desk made a king-sized bed look like a cot, and I’m convinced you’d need two people to lift one of the leather-covered armchairs scattered all over the room.

Chief Prime and I followed Mr. Laineux’ butler to the head of the room, where he already sat with who must be his son, Bobling. The latter remained in his seat, eyeing us suspiciously while Chief Prime shook the Bobfather’s hand.

“Bobtimus. I did as you said and asked Bobling to come as fast as he could. Now if you’d please tell us why we’re all gathered here? On the phone you sounded as if someone died.”

“Well, that’s because someone did”, Chief Prime answered with a grim expression as soon as the butler had left the office. He took a seat and gestured me to do the same.

“Robert, your brother Boberto has been found dead this morning in the mayor’s office. The coroner assumes it was a heart attack, but given his young age and fit condition I have my fair share of doubts. I had a forensics team secure evidence in his office and ordered the department to treat every aspect of this with the utmost confidentiality before I called you. With your approval, I’d like to run an autopsy and have Detective Bob Downey here investigate the case.”

The Bobfather and his son sat there motionless, faces blank. No one spoke for a solid minute. Chief Prime shifted in his seat, probably thinking he went to far with his precautions. When the Bobfather finally moved he just tilted his head, eyes resting on me, piercing me with an intensity that it felt as if he looked right through me. Now it was my turn to shift nervously.

“Detective Downey, you said? Well, Bobtimus. My brother’s dead and you come rushing in here telling me you believe it’s a bloody murder and that you started collecting evidence before even telling me. And now you want me to sign off the case to a cop that doesn’t even work in homicide and, on top of that, still refuses to work with me?”

Well, that’s one way to say I didn’t let your drug money make me docile.

“Robert, that’s exactly why I picked him. Not only is he one of my finest detectives, he’s also the only one you could possibly trust to actually find out the truth. The rest of the bunch is more interested in their own benefits, and that was fine until now”, the Chief proclaimed, “but something’s fishy about Boberto’s death and I wouldn’t want anyone on that case who took bribe before.”

“Everybody’s got their price”, muttered the young Laineux and we all turned our head in surprise. He looked me straight in the eye and proceeded: “What’s your price, Detective Downey? What could be in for you to help your enemy?”

“I wouldn’t call you my enemy.” Oh yes, indeed I would you little brat. “But frankly said, we’re not on good terms either. I joined the police because I believe in justice and want to do what’s right. And if Mayor Laineux died by someone’s hand, then I’ll find out who did it.”

“Fine”, Robert said after the two of them eyed me up and down once more. “Go and see what you can find out. If someone killed my brother, I want his head. And Bobtimus”, he snarled, glaring at Chief Prime, “I want to be the first one to know when there’s even the slightest bit of new info on this case, you got me?”

“Of course, Sir”, the Chief hurried to answer. The Bobfather didn’t respond and just dismissed us with a small nod.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Chief Prime walk that fast.

 “Goddammit!”, Bobster yelled for the third time this day. Steeb had an odd déjà-vu, standing on the patio and watching the alpacas slowly moving away from his furious boss. Mr. Di Seta paced up and down the railing, brows furrowed and deep in thought. Only minutes before Steeb had arrived at the mobster’s manor, a little bird had brought the news of Mayor Laineux’ death. At first the blonde deemed those great news for the Di Seta family, but Bobster’s reaction taught him otherwise. Now he just waited nervously for the mafioso to calm down and give him further instructions.

“Okay boy, here’s what we do: You keep that little game of yours up.” After what seemed an eternity, Bobster finally stopped and talked to Steeb. “If we retreat now, it’ll look suspicious. But we can’t make any more moves either. Not until we have more detail about Boberto’s death. Just keep it calm, fly below the radar until things get sorted out a bit more.”

“Alright, boss. But-”, Steeb hesitated, “may I ask why you’re so upset? Shouldn’t it be great that the mayor’s office isn’t occupied by the french anymore?”

Bobster huffed. “Steeb, there’s so much more to a dead brother and mayor than to a son sleeping with the enemy. My goal was to either estrange Robert from his son by finding out about your little affair in the worst case, or to manipulate the Laineux through your influence on the little dipshit in the best. I never wanted war. I just wanted my fair share of clients and income. Boberto as mayor wasn’t an ideal situation for us, that’s true, but a murder investigation is way worse.”

 And murder it was. The coroner called me the next day to let me know how the autopsy went. Chief Prime was correct: Boberto could’ve lived up to a hundred years, his organs were in great shape. But he found some herbs in the mayor’s stomach and ran a few tests. Turns out someone added a rare pufferfish poison to his favourite tea, making it look like Boberto’s heart just failed. Without the leftovers to be tested, nobody would’ve ever found out.

So we knew it was definitely murder, and we had the murder weapon. Two days later I was going through files of possible culprits when the phone on my desk rang. The head of forensics called to inform me about the fingerprints on the tea box. They belonged to no other than Baebert Ullen, Robert and Boberto Laineux’ stepbrother.

 “Oh Steeb, I’m so glad you had time”, Bobling exclaimed as he opened the door to let his sweetheart in. He rose to his tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on the blonde’s lips before they went inside. Steeb followed him through the hallway into a light-flooded living room.

One of the broad velvet sofas was occupied by two men, one of them reading to the toddler in his lap. The other one looked up and immediately hopped to his feet when he spotted Steeb and Bobling. Equally amused and bewildered Steeb recognized the man’s pants as Lederhosn, something he hadn’t seen since he had been deployed in Germany. It oddly fit the aesthetic of dark rimmed glasses and a plaid button down in powder pink. Taking a second glimpse at the three men and the toddler, Steeb also noticed that big, dark eyes and curls the colour of coffee seemed to run in the family.

“Bobling, honey. Is that your boyfriend? My, he’s handsome. Isn’t he handsome, Bobbo?” The man referred to as Bobbo looked up from the book and gave Steeb a curt nod. Steeb had no time to repay the gesture though. The man in Lederhosn, without a doubt Bobling’s uncle Baebert, grabbed his face and pressed a kiss on each of Steebs cheeks.

“Pleasure to meet you, son. Bobling told us so much abou-”

“Uncle, stop. And he’s not my- just... just stop”, Bobling interfered. Baebert smiled knowingly and gave Steeb a quick hug before he clapped his hands.

“Whatever you say, darling! Anyway. Bobbo, can you fetch Bobbae’s jacket? We should leave those two lovebirds to themselves. And Robert said the attorney would be at his place around five, so we should get going anyway. But it was so nice to finally meet you, Steeb dear.”

Steeb got pulled in for another hug and round of kisses and before he could even think of an appropriate response, the three of them were already at the door. Bobling let them out before he sank down on the couch next to Steeb with a small sigh.

“Sorry”, he mumbled against Steeb’s shoulder, “uncle Baebert is a bit.. special. Loves to kiss each and everyone. Quite a hugger. Bit eccentric from time to time.”

“He seemed lovely”, Steeb chuckled as he pulled the brunette into his arms and lay down with him, his thumbs rubbing small circles into Bobling’s skin. The younger man hummed in approval.

“Thank you for coming over. The last few days were nothing but crazy, I didn’t even have the time to give you a call.” The mobster wrapped his arms around Steeb’s waist and nuzzled into the crook of his neck before he spoke again. “First they tell me that my uncle died, then they find out he was murdered, now they’re trying to arrest my other uncle for said murder. You just met Baebert. Does he seem like a murderer to you? Something’s off with this story. Father always had been on great terms with both of them. They think uncle murdered Boberto because he was only their stepbrother and therefore no heir to the Laineux family, but father said none of them was ever bitter about that. And Bobbo is a famous architect, he practically designed half of Oslo. There’s no need to go after Boberto’s money. D’you think uncle Baebert would kill someone? He’s got a kid and a husband. I think he has better things to do than murdering his own, let alone a mobster’s brother”, Bobling mumbled into the hem of Steeb’s shirt before letting out a small sigh. “I’m sorry, love. You sure got better things to do than to listen to me ramble.”

“No problem. Isn’t that what boyfriends are for?”, Steeb asked with a saucy grin. Bobling’s cheeks went as pink as his uncle’s shirt and he tried to hide at Steeb’s shoulder, but the blonde cupped his face with both hands and gently forced his sweetheart to look at him.

Bobling held his gaze for a few moments before his eyes fluttered shut. Slowly, almost shy, he leaned into Steeb’s touch, pressing a little kiss on the taller man’s wrist. Steeb’s thumb ghosted over his cheekbone, down his jaw and traced the outlines of his bottom lip. And when Bobling opened his eyes again, there was nothing left of the frivolous, flirty beau, just a tired and sad boy asking for comfort.

“Care to stay with me tonight?”

And when Steeb bent down to place a kiss on the spot his thumb just marked, there was nothing lustful, nothing passionate to it. No faked feelings, no ulterior motifs, just a lovestruck idiot longing for his dear one’s touch.

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

 Will Baebert be arrested for murder, or his fashion sense? Did the author discover that there is a Bavarian Wikipedia while looking up the correct spelling of Lederhosn? Will Steeb and Bobling establish a healthy relationship or will their romance turn to dust? Will the author ever not get carried away by fluffy Dorito boy pining for his beau? Will the author ever get tired of using the word beau? Did the author accidentally create a new Transformers AU while writing? And why do Americans refuse to use the accents on french terms? Find out in the next chapter!

A/N: (labagiu is Romanian for wanker according to Google, Freundchen is basically friend in German, but is mostly used to address someone in an angry, disrespectful way, like you sometimes do with buddy or pal. I figured that both Steeb and Barney went to war and that they learned some phrases there that they now used to look cool and eloquent to the other. They both failed, obviously)

#the rdj spectrum #bobsonas #rdj #young rdj #bobling #crack fic #a song of bobs and berts #asobab #a clash of hunks #own post

[lenfaz]

Sea Squad, ch. 6 (6/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to  FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 

Chapter 6

The hours turned long and they’d hit the somewhat duller stages of planning. The initial excitement for the heist had given way to long hours of detailing, building the vault replica, and going over the execution. It required a level of focus and concentration that brought out frayed nerves in everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Nemo had always been good at keeping his composure, and Poseidon had a knack for coming in and out of the character he was playing without wearing himself out. But the rest of them were starting to show signs of distress.

Ariel and Eric bantered constantly, but their rapport had taken on a sniping quality, even about the most petty items, right down to their Netflix queue. The uptick in Smee’s fidgeting with his cap, as well as his obsessive need to re-review the footage of the casinos and note every single detail, was leaving an ache in Killian’s jaw from all the clenching.

LJ, meanwhile, was giving Killian and Liam the silent treatment, as he kept his headphones glued to his ears and his nose buried in a seemingly endless stream of books.

Milah had taken to disappearing for hours at a time, keeping whatever - or whomever - she was doing under wraps. All of which suited Killian just fine, as the last thing they needed was to alert Gold that she was in town. Besides he knew Milah and trusted her. He knew she could be stealthy when she wanted, so he kept his mouth shut.

Ursula spent most of her time shadowing her co-workers at the casino, and only dropping by to feed them new information and get orders from Liam. The two of them would retreat into a corner, all bent heads and whispered words. They didn’t fool Killian at all. He knew Ursula was updating Liam on all of Belle’s movement and a part of him wanted to call his brother on wasting effort by splitting their focus. But Liam had promised, as did he, so he knew he owed his brother this chance.

As for Henry, Killian knew he still felt like an outsider. Luckily, the kid had thick skin and when he was done bonding with LJ over music and comics, he’d retreat to his own corner, plugging in his headphones and writing in his journal. His quiet edge was one Killian easily recognized as the product of spending too much time on his own in foster and group homes, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the kid because of it.  When he was not shadowing LJ, Killian had been working with Henry, going over what he needed to do and rehearsing and timing his performance. The lad was good - more than good - and Killian couldn’t help the pride he felt as time and again Henry delivered on what he was asked to do.

Which was why when he found out that Henry wasn’t an expert on poker - or any card game - Killian took the kid under his wing and vowed to teach him everything he knew. Unlike his celebrity students, Henry was sharp as a knife, picking up on what the game was about and executing bluffs with such mastery that it brought tears to Killian’s eyes. He was getting fairly good at blackjack too. He couldn’t count cards with Liam’s speed, but he was good at making quick decisions in the heat of the game and landing on his feet.

After the first couple of nights, LJ asked to join the game, and Killian got a glimpse at another side of his little brother. When he was at ease - and he seemed most at ease with Smee and Henry - he could be quite charming. His permanent scowl gave way to an easy smile and a dry wit, his hands moving fast as he dealt cards, his eyes not giving away a single thing as he called bets. He proved to be as good as Killian at bluffing, and even better than Liam at reading a table. It was enough to make Killian weep, again, which resulted in LJ throwing his cards at him, calling him a softie.

Clearing his throat, Killian looked at the three of them. “We need a night out.”

“To do what?” Henry asked

“Get some drinks, play some cards, bet some money,” he replied with a wave of his hand.

“So basically the same thing we’re doing right here,” LJ retorted, clearly not impressed with him. Killian, though, knew by now it was a tactic his brother played. If you don’t get your hopes too high, the fall doesn’t hurt that much.

“Not exactly the same… we’re lacking a certain ambiance here.”

Henry gave them a wry grin. “I’m underage… I won’t be allowed anywhere.”

“There is so much you need to learn about this town, lads.” Killian turned around to his most loyal companion. “What do you say, Smee? Should we show these two what the City of Sin has to offer?”

/-/

He had to give it to both of them, Henry and LJ cleaned up well for their night out. Black slacks, button down shirts, nice shoes, the whole nine yards. Which was slightly funny considering that they ended up in one of the seediest joints Vegas had to offer. But the drinks were good, the tables were humming with activity, and no one even thought to card them with Killian by their side. They joined a poker game in one of the private rooms for a few hours before they took onto the blackjack tables. Henry held his own in both while also holding down his liquor. LJ, true to form, simply took everything by storm, including charming the brunette dealer who kept leaning closer to him with each new hand she dealt. When she announced the end of her shift and threw a coy glance at LJ, Killian knew the night was coming to an end.  At least for some of them.

Smee and Henry moved to cash in their winnings, while he and LJ finished their drinks.

“You know you’ve had a tail for the past few hours, don’t you?” LJ said as he placed his glass on the table.

“Aye, I’m aware.” Killian’s fingers moved along the rim of the glass, resisting the urge to look behind him. “She’s been shadowing us all night.”

“You shadow her, she shadows you… is this some kind of kinky foreplay I want to know nothing about?”

Killian laughed. “I wish.” He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. “Will this be a problem for you?”

LJ shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think so. She might be good with faces, but I’m good at being a no one. It’s going to come in handy this time. But I should take off before she makes it any closer. Perhaps seek refuge in a different bed for the time being.” His eyes glinted with mischief.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s a sacrifice you’re willing to bear, and I’m sure that lovely croupier would be more than happy to assist you.”

“I’ll get Henry and Smee to leave without coming back here, just in case. I figure you can run interference for us?”

Killian raised his glass at him. “I can do that. It’s me she’s after anyway.”

LJ squeezed his arm. “Killian, be careful, aye?” The concern and fondness in his words made Killian swallow.

“Aye, I will.”

He watched as LJ retreated, playing with the chips on the table and downing his drink. He ordered another as the new dealer showed up. As she set up the table, Killian counted out his heartbeats - one, two, three, four…

On five, Emma sat down beside him, cashing in a hundred dollar bill.

“I’d have thought you’d have privileges for playing in Gold’s casinos, Swan.”

“Fancy places are not my thing. And I could say the same to you. Nemo’s protegee should be able to access better places than this.”

He tilted his head, studying her profile. He wasn’t surprised by the words. It was only natural that she’d set to go after him, looking under every rock for every single piece of information she could gather on him.

There just the two of them on the table and the dealer opened up the bets. He placed a chip on the felt and waited for his cards. “What can I say, this place has its benefits…”

She didn’t pay that much attention to her cards. “What were you doing here tonight?”

Shifting a little, he doubled his bet. “Just passing the time.”

She passed on her bet and Killian winced. She should have doubled with the cards she’d been dealt. “Really? And who were your friends?”

A small smirk came to his lips. “Just some acquaintances I hadn’t had the chance to catch up with in a long time.”

The house went over. He won a good sum. Emma won the bare minimum.

“Funny you should say that, because when I looked into you, I couldn’t find a single associate. Or friend. Or acquaintance.”

Aye. He’d anticipated that, which is why he’d made sure Smee erased all traces of his known associates, along with his family and friends. Only Nemo remained, as it gave him a valid connection to be in the city. If push came to shove, he could claim that he was here to be with his friend.

He examined his cards and shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say, I’m a lone wolf.”

“Bullshit, Killian.” She raised her hand to double her bet and his hand moved of its own accord to stop her.

“The house has too many chances to take this one, let it pass.”

The way she cocked an eyebrow at him stirred something in him, but he reigned it in and slowly removed his hand. Emma stared down at her cards for a long moment before passing on raising her bet. He wouldn’t count that as a sign of anything, that way would only lead to heartache in the end. They continued to play in silence for a few hands, Killian earning a nice pile of chips while Emma fell behind. Resisting the urge to give her more pointers, Killian leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table.

“How's working for Gold?”

The corner of her lips lifted in the hint of a smile. “Please, as if you were interested in my work.”

“You wound me, Swan.”

“Drop the act. I know you’re up to something and I know you’re trying to weasel information out of me. But I’m not the girl that I was. I’m not falling for your charming lies this time.” She gathered her chips, leaving one behind for a tip, and walked away.

He shouldn’t go after her, he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the temptation was stronger than his will. Picking up his own chips and sliding them in his pocket, he flipped one to the dealer and followed Emma out.

He caught up with her almost at the exit and pulled her into a corner of the room. Resisting the urge to give in and press his body to hers, he focused instead on his words.

“You don't want to do this. You don’t want to be spying for Gold, Emma.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, especially since you’re the reason I need to find this type of employment.” While there was bitterness in her words, her eyes also seemed focused to his lips. Killian felt the same pull and he moved closer to her, his fingers itching to trace along the soft skin of her arms. Before he could, Emma shook her head and pressed her hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Your charm no longer works on me, Jones. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” He sighed, resisting the urge to drag her out of here and bring her to the warehouse, to tell her everything. If this was his con alone, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But too much was a stake here, too many of his friends were depending on him. They were already on shaky ground considering Liam’s focus on Belle, Killian couldn't add more complications to the mix.

Still, he couldn’t leave without letting her know the type of man she was dealing with. “I know Gold. He’s dangerous. He doesn’t play fair.”

She snorted, tilting her head to the side as she glared at him. “And you do?”

The barb hurt and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I have a code, believe it or not.”

“I don’t need a code. I need answers,” she whispered and her confession shook them both. Emma’s eyes widened and she tried to move away from him, but Killian grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him.

“What is it that you're after?” His eyes bored into her, studying her face for any hint of what was really going on. “It can be just the job, not really. Gold pays well, but nothing that you cannot make elsewhere.”

“I don't have that many options left with my reputation ruined, remember?”

“Bullshit. You’ve been highly rewarded for your work.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. He should learn to keep his own damn mouth shut.

“Keeping tabs on me, huh?”

He ignored her question, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. It was clear that when he walked out of that room on her, there had been more than her job at stake.

“What was it? What did I cost you, Emma?”

Her face was a blank mask, her eyes avoiding his. “Wouldn't you like to know”

He reached out, caressing his thumb along her cheek. He kept his next words quiet, the desperate plea in them clear. “Please, love, tell me… I need to know.”

She gave him one last assessing look before she pulled away. “Goodbye, Killian.”

He took a breath and let her walk away. When she was finally out of his line of sight, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Whatever it was that Emma Swan was looking, whatever it was that made striking a deal with Gold worth it, he was going to find out.

And he was going to do everything he could to deliver it to her.

/-/

After another night spent with rum and restless dreams, Killian stood at the entrance of the warehouse, willing the pounding in his head to pass. He closed his eyes and sank against the exterior wall as he pressed a bottle of cold water against his temple.

The sound of car tires on gravel had him open one eye and face the glaring morning sunlight again. He turned just as a taxi pulled around the curve and LJ got out. His leather jacket was draped over one arm and he carried a cardboard tray with a few paper cups on his free hand. His hair damp and disheveled, shirt wrinkled, and that spring in his step could only mean one thing.

“You look like you had a good time,” Killian said as LJ handed him one of the cups. The welcome scent of steaming coffee filled his senses and Killian discarded the water bottle, taking a long, slow sip of the warm beverage. It tasted burnt and bitter, making him regret all his life choices - especially this one - while he pondered how his brother could even drink this.

LJ left the rest of the tray on a nearby bench and took a sip of his coffee, his wicked smile and glinting eyes a silent answer to Killian’s comment. “You still look to be in one piece…” He twitched one side of his mouth, making a show of checking for wounds. “I thought I was going to get a call in the middle of the night and have to go pick you up at the police station.”

“I would have never dared to interrupt your much needed getting laid-time, little brother. I would have called Smee.” Killian lifted one shoulder as he ventured one more sip of the coffee. Yup, still terrible. “Besides, she doesn’t have anything on me.”

“She has you by the balls, but please, by all means, keep deluding yourself.”

Killian chuckled, tossing the poor excuse for a coffee in the trash bin. “Next time, unless it’s done by a proper barista with freshly ground coffee beans and a espresso machine, bring me tea, LJ.”

“Like you wouldn’t find a fault in any poorly steeped tea too, brother.”

Touché. Killian placed two fingers over his heart, a part of him grateful that LJ had gotten to know that side of him.

“Come on,” LJ called as he picked up the tray and tilted his head towards the front door. “Henry's cocoa is getting cold and the poor lad needs his sugar to function properly.”

He smirked as he passed LJ and opened the door and held it for him. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

LJ shrugged. “He's cool and honestly, I feel a lot more comfortable around him than some of the others. He hasn't been in the business much…”

The meaning behind the words was clear. “So anything related to the Jones name doesn't mean much to him.”

LJ gave him a shy smile. “Yeah, that's a perk.”

Killian placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It's good to make friends, good friends, early in your career. People you can trust.” He looked at him and a wave of sympathy flooded him. He wanted to be that for his brother so desperately, as Liam had been for him. And yet, he understood more than anyone the need to shine for yourself, outside your family name. “You don't have to do everything alone.”

“I know… is that Smee for you?”

“Aye.”

Henry made his way towards them, his eyes almost rolling at the back of his head. “Finally, man.” He reached for the cup that LJ handed to him and took a long sip. His eyes closed, he sighed in contentment. “You even remember the cinnamon”.

Killian cocked an eyebrow, some memory poking at the back of his mind that he couldn’t place. “Cinnamon?”

LJ lifted a shoulder carelessly as he finished his coffee and tossed the cup in a nearby trash bin. “Yeah, the kid has weird taste.”

Henry gave him a challenging look. “Who are you calling weird, you nimble fingered freak?”

LJ gave him a cheesy smile, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Henry. “Careful with the whipped cream there, Henry.  We don't want you to put on weight and miss your acrobatic stunt mark over there. A lot is a stake here, maybe I should switch you to skim milk.”

Henry tossed his finished drink, puffing out his chest in his best in his best impression of a face-off. “Please, that'll never happen.” He opened his arms with an arrogant smile. “I'm too good for this.”

LJ grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and took out a bill. “Prove it, fly boy. I have a twenty that says you can’t make that jump.”

“You’re on.”

/-/

It took less than thirty minutes to set up the recreation of what would happen in the vault in a few days. Henry gave LJ a self-satisfied smile as he climbed into the cash cart.

Everyone gathered around and Killian figured it was as good a time as any to do a run-down of the operation. The rest of them might as well benefit from the bet Henry and LJ had going on.

“Alright, here’s the rundown. On the night of the fight, Poseidon’s package will arrive at the casino at 7:15. From there, LJ needs to work his magic, get the codes we need to access the elevator. At 7:30, Ariel and Eric will work their own magic and get the cart delivered, with Henry inside, into the vault. At that point we’re all in.” He paused and glanced around the room. “All-in. We can’t back up, we can’t screw up, we can’t delay. Once the vault is closed, we have thirty minutes before he suffocates.”

“Gee, you better not fuck it up, guys, or I swear I’ll haunt you from the underworld.” Henry waved as they closed the lid and Ariel and Eric rolled the cart into the vault replica.

From the corner of his eye, Killian watched as Liam entered the warehouse, his hair in the same state of dishevel as LJ’s had been, the same spring in his step. Bloody arse. Liam stood next to him and watched intently as the action unfolded.

“When the power goes down, it means that all entries to the vault and the elevator are on lock down for two minutes. And that is when we strike.”

The lights in the vault dimmed and Henry pushed the false top of the cart open, slowly removing himself from his confines. “It is going to feel like I spent days in there,” he said as he positioned himself on top of the cart.

“Alright, flyboy,” LJ teased, “we’ve left you in the middle of the room, far away from everything. There are sensors on the floor, and you need to get from where you are to the door without activating any of them. What are you going to do, hotshot? I have twenty saying you can’t make it.”

“I have ten saying you can!” Smee called.

“You can do it, Henry! I have faith in you!” Ariel cheered, clapping her hands in excitement.

Liam’s mouth twisted into a grimace, making him look nauseated. “We should all maintain some professionalism in here, this is a serious operation.”

“They are young, Liam.” Killian shrugged, pointing at Henry with a twenty to show his support. “Especially Henry and LJ. Let them live a little.” He turned to face his brother and gave him a once over from head to toe. “Speaking of living a little, did you have a nice night?”

The tips of Liam’s ears turned pink and he shuffled his feet. “It’s not what you think.”

Killian gritted his teeth. “Please Liam, don’t insult my intelligence.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “As long as you promise me that you can handle it.”

“I can handle it,” Liam said quickly and Killian really wanted to believe his brother, but he wasn’t sure anymore.

Their conversation in a stale point, they both turned their attention at the scene in front of them. Henry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and positioned himself in a dead squat. From there he leapt, gracefully and hands first, from the cart to a ledge in one of the walls of the vault. Sitting there, he turned around and flipped off LJ. “Drinks on you tonight, loverboy.”

The rest of the crew clapped and boomed, with Nemo congratulating them all on a job well done.

“This is all well and good, but I’m sorry to say that we are fucked.”

Everyone turned to find Milah standing there, hair a mess, her blouse misbuttoned, and mascara running down her cheeks. There was decidedly no spring in her step and her face made it clear that whomever she picked up for the night hadn’t gotten the job done.

As if to confirm Killian’s assumption, she cocked an eyebrow. “And not in a good way.” She walked towards the nearest table, her high-heeled boots clicking against the tile floor and poured herself a drink. Tossing her head back, she finished off the drink in one go and poured herself another.

“Wow, Milah, slow down, it’s not even 10 am,” Killian cautioned, moving slowly towards her. He had a few choice barbs on the tip of his tongue, but though they had parted amicably and they were friendly with one another, there were certain lines a gentleman didn’t cross with someone he’d known in the biblical sense. This was one of those lines. He’d never made a comment on Milah’s hookups and he wasn’t going to start now, unless it meant problems for their operation. Taking one last step in her direction, he took the glass from her hand. “What are you talking about?”

She started to pace, speaking a mile a minute. “These idiots. It’s a universal truth that you can count on electricity companies to be the most inefficient people ever, but no… we had to hit the jackpot of the only capable ones! Who would have thought that they would do a fucking routine inspection and took notice of the fact that you can blow up their grid lines one by one like dominoes?”

There was silence as she continued to move back and forth across the room, until Nemo shot Smee a questioning look. “Do you understand what she’s talking about?”

“Some, it seems that we will be having troubles with the planned power blow up.”

“Exactly right, my friend,” Milah agreed, jabbing her finger at Smee, the open, loose sleeve of her chiffon blouse billowing around her elbow in added emphasis. “They figured out their weakness and now they are fixing it. Like I said, we’re fucked.”

Liam scrunched his face in confusion. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

She spun and raised an eyebrow at Liam, leaving Killian feeling oddly grateful to not have that level of fury directed at him. “Where exactly do you think I was last night? Or any of the other nights?”

Liam’s cheeks flushed. “I just thought...”

She groaned in frustration. “Oh, for crying out loud! Just because you’re all terrible horn dogs doesn’t mean I am. I’ve been trailing some of the electricity engineers and technical operators. And yes, last night I actually had to sleep with one of them so I could hack into their work orders. Which is how I know about this entire thing.”

Every last person in the room had the grace to look sheepish, but none of them dared to speak up. It was Nemo who finally ventured to break the silence. “Milah, we-”

Milah waved him off. “Yeah, you can all apologize to me later, after we figure out what the hell we’re going to do if we still want to pull this job.”

Eric turned to look at Liam. “What about-”

But Ariel interrupted him, patting his hand and shaking her head. “Not enough time.”

And that was the crux of it. There was not enough time to do a bloody thing. Coming this close to the job, being able to taste it and feel it brush against their fingertips, only to have it ripped away at the very last minute. Killian wanted to smash the entire fake vault, anything to break the sense that it was standing there mocking him.

“Unless it’s a pinch.”

All eyes turned back to Milah, who was now perched over the edge of the table, nursing a third drink.

“A what now?” Henry asked.

Milah took a sip of her drink. “It’s like a heart attack for any broadband electrical circuitry.”

Killian glanced around the room, wondering if that made any bloody sense to anyone else. Given their blank expressions, he was going with nope. Sighing deeply, Milah looked at Smee. “Can you take this one? I’m knackered and I don’t have it in me.”

Smee smiled and cleared his throat. “A pinch is an electromagnetic pulse that can shut down any power source in its vicinity. Bombs do it, but it usually goes unnoticed because of the amount of destruction that usually follows.”

“So this pinch,” Nemo asked, taking charge of the scene in a way he only knew, “could take out the power of Vegas?” Milah nodded. “For how long?”

“About thirty seconds.”

Nemo’s face twisted. “That’ll do.”

“There. Is. Only. One. Little. Tiny. Problem,” Milah punctuated each word by swaying her glass back and forth before swallowing the remainder in one gulp. “There is only one pinch in the world big enough to do this, and it sure as shit ain’t here in Vegas.”

Cold sweat ran down Killian’s neck. “Please tell me it’s in a place that is currently going through a cold wave with snow storms and high winds.”

Milah gave him an apologetic smile. “California.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. “I’m not going.”

“Killian-” Liam started but Killian was not having it.

Pulling Liam to the side, he met his brother’s eyes. “Nope. Take LJ and Henry with you. Those two are going to be better at this than me. I’m going to stay here. Smee and I have to work on the final details of the plan anyway.” He left it unsaid that he was going to have Smee look into Emma’s past and figure out what it was she was looking for. But his brother didn’t need to know that. Not now. They were already working on two fronts, he didn’t need for anyone to know he was adding a third. He could handle this. Besides, it would be good for LJ and Liam to bond a little.

“You sure about LJ? He seems green,” Liam asked, his eyes shifting to where their brother was talking with Nemo and Henry.

If you spent more time talking with him than seducing your ex-wife, maybe you wouldn’t think that. Killian shook his head as he let the thought pass. “Liam, I trust him, and you should too. We brought him here to be part of the family, didn’t we? Then let him take part in it.”

“You’re right.” Liam stepped away and moved to gather Milah, LJ, Henry, Ariel and Eric, readying them to plan their next moves and set them into motion.

With their attention focused elsewhere, Killian knew it was the perfect time to put his own plan into motion. “Smee,” he called over his friend, “I need you to look into something for me.” He pulled his phone and showed Smee a picture of Emma and Gold.

Smee’s face turned pale and before he could say anything, Killian cut him off. “Aye, it’s her and she’s here working for Gold. She’s looking for something and I need to know what that is.”  He tried to hide the desperation in his voice but failed in the end, his voice cracking.

“I’ll look into it,” Smee vowed solemnly and Killian felt a lump form in his throat at his friend’s loyalty.

“Thank you, mate.”

Smee moved towards his data room, ready to work his magic and Killian turned around to assess the room. Liam and LJ were having a conversation and Killian left them, for once, to work their own relationship out. If nothing else came out of this, at least they could all be a family in the end. He spotted Henry at the side of the room, still assessing the vault and doing a slow-motion rehearsal of his moves.

“Henry! Listen, take care of yourself out there.” Killian placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “And take care of the others. You’ll be trapped between an obnoxious couple and a family feud, sorry about that. Just keep your head in the game. Someone other than Milah has to.”

Henry chuckled. “I will, Killian, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not a kid.”

Killian’s heart grew two sizes in his chest. “Yes, you are. You can lie to those goody two shoes that had you at the circus, and you can even lie to yourself if you want, but you can’t lie to me, boy.” He gave the lad a reassuring smile. “The reasons for your secrets are your own and I’ll respect that, but you’re a part of us now, just as much as LJ is. We take care of our own.”

From the way Henry swallowed and how his eyes locked with Killian’s for a brief minute, his want to believe read clearly on his face. But as quickly as it came, his face shifted back to neutral, his hard armor sliding back into place. “I’m tougher than I look. I won’t break.” Yet again Killian cursed every single foster parent that had beaten the sense of love and family out of this kid. But, he reminded himself, one thing at the time.

“I know.” He patted Henry’s cheek. “Still, be careful, lad.”

He watched Henry leave and decided he’d had enough emotions for the day. It wasn’t even noon. He needed a drink. He was pouring himself a healthy dose of rum when he heard Milah’s voice call from behind him.

“Killian Jones, the overprotective brother. I thought that was Liam’s role.”

He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the slide of the liquid fire down his throat. “It seems I’ve taken a page from his book.”

He passed the drink to her and she took a sip. “Do I get the “you’re family to me” speech too?”

Killian’s eyes softened, his muscles sore from too many nights with little sleep. “You know you are. You wouldn’t be here with us if we didn’t feel like family to you too.” He reached for her hand. “Take care of them, Milah. Don’t let them do anything foolish.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’ll try. But with two Joneses in the mix, I can’t make any promises.”

#csbb #sea squad #lenfaz fics #cs ff #captain swan

[cadxmitchell]

Where: Mitchell Family home - Brookline, Massachusetts When: Roughly four and a half years ago Status: Closed - Self-Para

School is done for the day and while most of the kids board on the buses or pile themselves into cars, Cade makes straight for the exit on his skateboard. An ongoing tradition, he stops at the nearby gas station and says hello to Phillip and Lindsey, two clerks he’s become familiar with over the past year.  Like every time, Cade buys a giant fountain drink and a roll of Rolo chocolates. While he might have gotten his license just a few months back and he could have very easily borrowed his dad’s car this morning, that would have meant getting home right away. This time after school on the way home is sacred to Cade.

It’s the rush of the air, headphones in and music blaring as he coasts down the back streets to get home. Not the safest but that’s just become part of the excitement. At sixteen, Cade Mitchell is tall and lean. He usually adorns a smile that’s a mix of genuine sincerity and coy as if he knows something the rest of the world does not. Always more prominent when he’s in the back of the classroom, leaning back in his chair, and playfully yet politely cracking jokes in class. Cade’s always laughing and good-natured, hardly ever with ruffled features, and easy to get along with. Despite that, Cade is alone.

With no close friends at school, Cade spends a lot of time orbiting around everyone and everything. He’s content, doesn’t complain. Cade gets his social interaction from theatre, his dad, and Casey when they’re around. Sure, it feels like he’s missing something and sometimes the loneliness trips him up but Cade’s learn well enough by now that he’s okay. He’s always okay.

With a practiced lean, Cade coasts around the corner into the neighborhood, passing most of the houses without even a glance. He rolls up the length of the driveway to the side door before kicking up his board and into the mudroom of the house. Cade kicks off his shoes and shoves them into one of the cubbies, board going against the wall, and leather jacket along the bench seat. Somewhere in the house, Cade hears a commotion that sounds oddly similar to a crash. Curiosity getting the best of him, Cade goes to look for the source. “Dad? Please tell me you’re not knocking down walls again.” That’s how the mudroom came to be thanks to a HGTV obsession.

“What? No. Come up to the guest room,” John calls from the second floor. Thankfully Cade didn’t need to ask which guest bedroom considering the boxes in the hallway that blocked his bedroom door and the room across from him. Shifting through the boxes, Cade finds a spot to stand and leans up against the door frame. “Are you looking for something?” Cade asks as he stares at his dad standing in the middle of the somewhat empty room.

“Do girls like white furniture or dark wood?” John asks as he shifts a box down from a stack only to set it down off to the side. “White. Is there a particular reason you’re asking?” The pleading tone for an explanation catches his dad’s attention finally and he nods his head. “Right, yes, I’m sorry. I’m a little frazzled. Let’s get out of this mess and go to the kitchen.” John comes toward the door and waves Cade on as well.

They both make it to the kitchen and while Cade grabs a diet Dr. Pepper from the fridge, John goes for a small glass of red wine instead. He leans against the counter of the breakfast bar, Cade sitting on one of the stools in front of his dad with a questioning expression. “Do you remember a couple weeks ago when we were talking about Lisa?” John starts, taking a quick sip from his glass.

“Yeah, that night we went out to dinner. Did you change your mind?” Cade’s confusion is clear. As far as he knows, his dad is head over heels for the woman. “No, god no. I know some people might raise some... disagreements to the idea that I’m proposing so soon but I love her more every day and I can’t imagine not spending my life with her. I’m still figuring out how to ask her... I think she’ll say yes but, well it wouldn’t be good if she said no... we’ve occasionally discussed it but--”

“Dad, she’ll say yes whenever you do it,” Cade says confidently. While he hasn’t spent too much time with Lisa alone, he’s seen them together enough to know how much they love each other. “Right, yes. Anyway, my point in bringing this up is that while I asked if you would be opposed to Lisa being your step-mom, I realized the other day that I never brought up something very important and that’s Alanna, her daughter. You two haven’t met yet and I regret that but I don’t want to rush anything if Lisa or Alanna isn’t ready, but having a step-sister would be such a big change and it’s been the two of us for so--”

“I get a sister,” Cade says slowly, interrupting his dad once again. Sure, he knew about Alanna. She’d been mentioned a few times in the past six months or so. Stupidly, it never occurred to him during their last conversation that by his dad marrying Lisa, he’ll end up with a sister. “Look, I know it’s a big change, but you’re the best son I could have ever asked for and I know you’d be an amazing influence on her and help to make her comfortable. I just want.. you to be okay with it.”

Cade laughs hard enough to nearly send him falling off the stool. “Are you kidding, that’s fucking awesome! You know I’ve always wanted siblings and having Alanna around would be cool. Do you think she’ll like movies? Please tell me she likes being outside cause when we have the summer bonfires, she has to be out there roasting smores with us. She’s a freshmen too, right? I can see about introducing her to some people at school, good kids to make sure she doesn’t make friends with the wrong person. Mrs. Luinsky down the street will probably adore her, maybe she’ll give us those killer cookies and banana bread if she likes Alanna--”

“Cade, slow down and please remember to watch your language,” John interrupts this time with a laugh. “So you’re not going to have any problem if Alanna becomes your sister? If her and Lisa start living with us in the future.”

“The house is quiet and I love you dad, but our family is small and there’s always been something just... missing. Lisa and Alanna might be exactly what we need. Like I said, I’ve always wanted to be a big brother.” Cade’s calmer now but there’s still a visible excitement. “Am I at least gonna get to meet her soon enough?” It would make sense for them to meet sooner rather than later. “I’m talk to Lisa about it tonight. Think you can get an extra ticket to the play? Alanna might want to come with us to see you perform if you don’t annoy her out of this world.”

Rolling his eyes, Cade nods his head. “I can get another ticket. And I’m not annoying, I’m going to be the cool big brother who drives her around everywhere. Any fourteen year old would love that.”

#xx.cade