#if god is merciful to me i will finish making her game. by summer maybe

[k0nstanta]

#character: kotya #setting: robot #artist: cbge #if god is merciful to me i will finish making her game. by summer maybe

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part V

[ previous ]  Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x Reader, Zeke Jaeger x Reader wc: ~ 8.8k Warnings: pining, testosterone, Zeke being a dick (who woulda thought), subtle manipulation (both on Zeke’s part that goes unchecked and accidentally on Mike’s part) A/N: Well, we’re gettin’ there. We’re truckin’ along. I’m sorry for the last chapter. And, I’m sorry for this one. But, I do still hope you enjoy it. I think we’re at the halfway mark here. 

Mike gets a text from you at nine PM three days before he’s supposed to go back to campus. It’s just a few words, a question that makes his heart drop to his stomach because you’ve never asked it before.

 Can we talk for a sec?

 He waits for a few minutes, tries to get rid of the panicked feeling rising in his chest, but he can’t get it to go away entirely, so he just bites the bullet and calls you. 

 “Heyyy,” you greet. Mike can already tell a difference in your tone. Something is definitely going on.

 “Hey, what’s up?”

 “I just, uh…” He hears you suck on your front teeth, a nervous habit he’s well versed in now, then you tell him, “I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back here.”

 Mike swallows. “Heads up about what?” 

 Are you leaving? Did you fail your summer classes despite all his help? Did you get into some kind of accident?

 You let out a long breath that Mike wishes he could feel on his skin. He wishes he could see your expression, wishes he could hold your face in his hands and tell you that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Seems like he’s always wishing for things.

 “Um, I—uh… I’m kind of seeing someone.”

 The floor falls out from beneath him, and Mike drops with it, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grits his teeth, trying to breathe normally—in through the nose, out through the mouth. This is about the last thing he expected you to confess.

 It’s apparently taking too long for him to gather himself, because you say his name, “Miche?” and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

 “I’m here. It’s, uh, fine,” he lies. “It’s fine.”

 “Is it?” You sound worried, as you should because while Mike isn’t mad, he’s extremely disappointed, probably the most he’s ever been. 

 Taking a page out of your book, he tries to play it cool, act like he doesn’t care. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 “Well, you—...” Met your mom? Learned your secrets? Tried to tell you that he loved you? All valid responses, but you just dismiss it with a quiet, “Nevermind.”

 Mike hums, lets the line go silent for a while, then musters the courage to question, “Do I know him?”

 “Yeah, I think so.”

 “What do you mean ‘you think so’?”

 “I mean he’s mentioned you, so I figure you’ve had at least a few conversations.” You’re getting that sassy tone, the one that signals you want to drop the subject, but you can’t this time. You’ve already warned Mike that you’re off the god damn market. You might as well tell him who exactly he’s gonna see you holding hands and sucking face with. It’s the merciful thing to do. 

 “It’s not one of the Pike guys, is it?”

 “No, no,” you laugh and it makes Mike want to scream because he doesn’t find this amusing at all, and it only gets worse when you finally answer, “It’s Zeke Jaeger.”

 Mike nearly hangs up then and there, but he somehow fights the urge. He does hold his phone away from his ear, though, stares up at his ceiling for a few seconds and stretches his arm out, then brings the device back. “Cool. He’s a… Talented dude.”

 “Yeah, but I mean, I’m not exactly starstruck or anything. Not after hangin’ out with you all of last year.”

 Mike rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of his skull. “You don’t have to make this about me, ba—...” He catches himself before finishing the pet name. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t call you what he wants to. He can’t flirt or smooth hair out of your face. He can’t pick you up and hold you against the walls of the house. He can’t show you how much he cares for you. 

 “I know. I just feel kinda bad,” you mumble. 

 “You shouldn’t. It’s cool.” His flat tone is anything but cool, and you can probably tell, but there’s not much Mike can do about that.

 You’re pouting when you question, “You’ll still be my friend?” Mike can see the expression without actually seeing it, the doe eyed look you’d be giving him if he were in front of you right now. He can also imagine looping his arms around you and smiling crookedly and kissing your forehead, and fuck, he feels broken. 

 “Yeah,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t even be a question.”

 “Good.”

 You lapse into another silence, just breathing and waiting for the other to break. It’s you who does. You clear your throat and state one more time, “I just wanted you to know.”

 “Thanks.”

 “See you in a few days.”

 “Yeah,” Mike is barely listening at this point, just looks at the poster on the wall and lets it fall out of focus. “See ya’.”

 You don’t hang up immediately, like you’re waiting for him to say something else, but Mike saves you the trouble and presses the ‘end’ button on his phone then tosses it on his pillow and falls back onto the mattress. 

 He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of it. You’ve gone an entire year denying him, keeping yourself closed off and never once bringing up the possibility of actually being together. After all the time spent together, after all the date parties, all the sex, staying at each others’ houses. He feels like he knows you better than anyone else probably does. You let him in. You let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. You acted like you trusted him.

 So, why isn’t he your first choice? As soon as you realized you were ready to make a fucking commitment to someone, why wasn’t it him?

 Mike doubts he’ll ever get the closure. He’ll just have to cope with seeing you around campus with Zeke god damn Jaeger, have to pretend like everything is fine, like you haven’t ripped his heart out of his fucking chest. 

 Unbearable. It’s going to be absolutely unbearable. 

 *

 Moving somewhere new always blows. It takes so much energy that Mike doesn’t have, yet here he is, hauling bags and boxes up to his new apartment unit. Honestly, he would almost prefer to stay in the frat house instead of having to make all the trips up and down these god damn concrete stairs, but at least now he’ll finally be away from all the parties. That will definitely come in handy this year considering he’s not gonna want to go to a single fucking one of them. 

 Once all of his belongings are stacked in his fairly small living room, Mike glances around his new haven, already thinking about how empty it feels without all the guys milling about and dicking around. He doubts he’ll miss the constant noise, but it’s still something that will take some getting used to.

 What he will miss is seeing you all the time, waking up in his old room to see you still fast asleep on his pillows, sitting in the main room with the others, heckling them as they play various games. He’s been focusing on the small things for the last couple of days, the things he never took the time to really enjoy. It feels like he didn’t stare long enough or laugh hard enough when he had the chance, and now he doesn’t know when his next opportunity to do either of those with you will be.

 Mike scrubs a hand down his face, scratches the hair he’s let grow out a little too much, then slowly begins to unpack his things. He’s being melodramatic, he knows, but he can’t help it. He can either let himself feel sad, or he can let the unbridled fucking rage take over, and out of the two, he prefers the former. 

 Mike’s class schedule gets pinned to the wall in his bedroom. His laptop gets set up. Textbooks are tossed into a corner. He really doesn’t care to do much more than that, but he figures he should make the place at least a little presentable. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone to entertain.

 The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach, but it’s a sensation he’s slowly getting used to as more time passes.

 Mike knows he needs to pull himself together, needs to put on a brave face. Pretty soon all the frats will be dealing with the dirty rushers, all the kids who weren’t able or didn’t think to suck up to the brothers during the spring. Then there’s inductions and hazing… Fuck, fall semesters are so tedious even without living in the house. He’s never been a huge fan of it all, but he’s had this image to uphold since he became a pledge.

 Now, Mike isn’t so sure he can keep that image in place.

 He stays locked away for as long as he possibly can, but eventually there’s a knock on his front door—Erwin who shoots Mike a broad grin and wriggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “You ready, bro? Got a place all your own with no one to bother you—”

 “You’re bothering me.”

 “Can do whatever you want,” Erwin powers on, completely unfazed. “Bring back whoever you want, no pesky frat boys to get in your way ‘cause fuck those guys, right?” He goes to grab Mike’s shoulders while laughing at his own joke, but Mike swats him away. 

 It makes Erwin scoff, and then he’s pushing past Mike to get into his new home, looking around for just a second and breathing out a little, “Eesh,” before turning back and giving Mike a look of condescension. “Don’t tell me this bad mood is because of your little toy finding someone else.”

 “Okay, firstly, fuck off,” Mike squints at him. “And, secondly, how do you already know about that?”

 Erwin examines his manicured nails, buffs them on his shirt and tells Mike, “Saw her and Jaeger walking out of the bookstore earlier. They looked pretty cozy. Pretty giddy, too, all smiles and—”

 “Shut. The fuck up.”

 The other man snorts. “Calm down, dude. I’m sure you can get her back or whatever you’re trying to do. Zeke’s an assole. Won’t take her long to figure it out.”

 “We’ll see.”

 This time Mike lets Erwin clap a hand on his shoulder before he walks out but not without suggesting, “You really should brighten things up a little in here. Hang some fairy lights or something. Girls love fairy lights.”

 Mike rolls his eyes, not bothering to remind his friend that he only started unpacking half an hour ago, then physically shoves Erwin out of his apartment.

 So, you’re already walking around campus flaunting your new little fling, he thinks. Perfect. He’s really looking forward to seeing that everywhere. 

 Mike eventually has to go by the PKA house for a meeting. Some of the members are already discussing plans for rush week and parties. Should they have lists or just keep them open and direct everyone to the yard? Are they gonna stick to their regular forms of hazing or should they change things up this year? Did anyone stick out from spring? Mike doesn’t pay much attention, just scrolls through his phone skimming through the same three social media apps over and over. He reads through the text thread he shares with you, the one he’s never deleted, and thumbs all the way up to a few months ago just to see if anything had been different back then, if he had said or done something wrong. 

 But, he’s gone through it a dozen times already, and he never finds anything. Maybe you just grew while he was away, experienced some kind of self-actualization that prepared you for an actual relationship. 

 Or, maybe Zeke just has something that Mike doesn’t. 

 *

 Mike runs into you on the second day of classes. Thankfully, you’re alone, and as soon as you catch sight of him, you grin widely and launch yourself at him. It comes as a surprise, your full weight hitting him square in the chest when you jump, and he has to catch you like you’re an excited child.

 It’s too close. You’re too close. Body against his as you slide down to your actual height and rest your head on his chest.

 “I missed you, Zacharias.”

 He wants to lift you up again, lock your thighs around his waist and kiss you like he used to. Instead, Mike pats the top of your head and gently untangles you from himself. He makes sure to smile when you look up at him, and he’s glad you aren’t pouting or frowning, your expression soft when he tells you, “Yeah, I missed you too.”

 He asks how your summer classes went. You ask what his course load is like this semester. It’s just small talk, and Mike hates it. 

 “How’re your parents?” You question like you’re interested, but he can’t imagine you actually are.

 “They’re good,” he shrugs. “Dad got a promotion at work a few weeks ago. Mom is doing the same shit she always does.” Like, making his favorite meals to heal his poor little broken heart. Mike hadn’t even told her about the conversation he’d had with you, and yet, as soon as he came out of his room the following morning, she just knew. 

 “Glad to hear it,” you nod. “Hey, do you wanna grab lunch or something? My next class isn’t til two, so I’m tryin’ to kill some time.”

 “Actually, I told Erwin I’d meet him,” Mike lies through his teeth. He’ll be using excuses like that for as long as he can. “Sorry.”

 “No, it’s cool,” you wave him off. “I’ll just grab Hitch or—”

 “There you are.” Mike stiffens at the vaguely familiar voice ringing out from behind him, hand flexing by his side as the school’s golden boy walks right past him and to you. “I was looking all over for you.”

 “Well, here I am,” you laugh, but Mike notes how forced it sounds. It’s a laugh that stems from nerves, he thinks. But why? Is it because Mike is here? Are you afraid of how he’ll act? Or, is it that you’re still in the phase of this “relationship” with Zeke  that you’re still anxious around him?

 The other man doesn’t even acknowledge Mike for a full twenty seconds. He heavily considers just walking away without a word, but the blond does eventually turn around to look at him and shows a smile that Mike would describe as slimy but you would probably call charming.

 “Zacharias,” Zeke greets and holds out a hand. “It’s been a minute.”

 Mike doesn’t like the way he says his last name. He only likes the way his friends say it. How you say it. Even if it started off as a way to keep your distance, he grew fond of it. Not as fond as his given name, of course, but hearing those four syllables from your mouth, always laced with attitude, never fails to make him smile.

 “Yeah, it has,” Mike agrees, clasping hands with him.

 He immediately feels Zeke stick his index finger out over his wrist, an attempt of taking control of the shake. Mike has seen it too many times to count, the petty attempt to flip hands so that one man’s is on top of the other. It’s a terrible way to flaunt one’s masculinity or power, and it’s never worked on Mike. 

 His hand is quite a bit larger than most people’s, after all. It’s definitely larger than Zeke’s, so when he tries to turn it, Mike doesn’t have a problem keeping his wrist straight. 

 The blond has to look up at him, actually tilt his head back because Mike has a good five inches on him, and after a couple more seconds, Zeke gives up on the pathetic display of dominance. That doesn’t stop Mike from squeezing his palm just a little too hard, though, just enough to see the muscles in Zeke’s jaw twitch. 

 When he lets go he chances a glance at you, finding you rubbing your temples. You mumble something Mike can’t hear, probably about men being stupid because there’s no way that little show escaped your notice. 

 Zeke steps over to you once again and asks the same question you had asked Mike—”You wanna get lunch, babe?” 

 Hearing him calling you that causes Mike’s blood to bubble in his veins, blistering from the inside out. It’s time for him to leave.

 “Yeah, sure,” you nod. Eyes flicking back to Mike, you force another smile and tell him, “See you around.”

 The two of you walk off, and Mike watches for just a little too long as Zeke laces his fingers with yours. Once you’re both a safe distance away, the fucker looks back at Mike from over his shoulder and smirks at him.

 Mike has long legs. He could easily catch up to you and punch Zeke square in the jaw, make his head snap to the side so that he drops to the ground. 

 But, what would you think of that? There’s no way you’d be happy with him, and if there’s one thing that would  be worse than Mike having to see you parade around with someone who isn’t him, it would be you ignoring him completely.

 *

 The first couple of weeks are honestly a blur. Too much is happening for Mike to focus on. The only thing that seems real to him is the ache in his chest. It distracts him day in and day out, through the late rushers and all the sucking up, through the first couple of parties, bid day and the first rounds of hazing. It’s just always there. 

 He is notably quieter when in the house, and it seems like everyone knows why. While Erwin pokes fun at him for his moodiness, Nile takes a more adult approach and simply asks how he’s doing, if he needs anything, going as far as offering, “You need me to punch that dude in the throat? Plant drugs in his bag? I’m pretty sure Gelgar has coke on his person at all times.” 

 He’s a good guy. Mike is glad he got voted in as PKA President this year despite Erwin giving him a run for his money. Nile is just personable enough to bring members in and have a good time at events, and just controlling enough to make sure things in the house are taken care of. Plus, Erwin doesn’t seem too broken up about getting Vice instead.

 It’s a relief when lacrosse starts back up, finally gives him a way to get some of his frustration out. The other teams have never been luckier to be wearing helmets otherwise Mike would have broken several noses within the first game alone. 

 The season has some overlap with baseball, games scheduled on the same day, sometimes at the same time. Mike keeps himself from looking into the stands to try to find you, scared that you’ll be there or scared that you won’t be, he isn’t sure.

 And, of course, Zeke’s face is plastered everywhere after he pitches a perfect fucking game. Mike wants to be angry, wants to spit on the flyers and punch every computer that’s displaying the college’s home screen, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that if it were anyone else, Mike would be impressed. Pitching a perfect game is pretty fucking cool, and the school is lucky to have a player as talented as Zeke, but god, what Mike wouldn’t do to just curbstomp him.

 Your name still lights up on his phone fairly often to ask how games went or how his classes are going. You’ve asked for help with homework on one occasion and lunch on another, but after Mike lies about only being able to walk you through the material over the phone and shoots you down for lunch, you seem to get the picture. 

 He doesn’t want it to be awkward between you, but he doesn’t know how to act now. His entire relationship with you started off as a drunken fuck, and it’s been mostly physical since then. How is he supposed to be able to spend time with you without touching you? Even the semester you refused to hook up with him, there were still times when you were both actively fighting the temptation. Mike can remember seeing it in your eyes all the time, probably just as often as you’d see it in his. You’d sit with a leg pressed against his, fall asleep on his arm every once in a while, and he wants that back now, but there’s no way the two of you can do that anymore. He doesn’t possess the same self-control.

 Over the weekend, you end up cracking and trying again, asking for help with studying for a quiz, and Mike has to contemplate it for at least fifteen minutes before he gives in.

 Coffee shop on 7th? you text him, and Mike chuckles to himself. The only places you’ve ever studied together is at the library or in his room, and while he could only get as far as a hand between your legs in the school building, he would usually end up in bed with you whenever going over something behind closed doors. 

 It makes sense that you want to go to a busier place, more eyes to watch you. It’s irritating, but he understands.

 Mike grabs one of his own textbooks from the previous year, the one he actually bought so that he could highlight and take notes in the margins, then makes his way to the little cafe.

 He’s been to this particular shop many times before, with you as well as the girls who came before—the ones that never mattered. Mike easily spots you at a little table by the window, your own book and several papers spread out around you. When you see him, you grin then hurry to clear a space for him, organizing what Mike recognizes as reading guides. 

 “Hey, stranger," you greet.

 Mike nods, eyes landing on the green hoodie you’re wearing, the one that covers too much of you, that spills over the tops of your legging clad thighs and hides your little hands. It’s his, but it’s always looked better on you. The fact that you still wear it makes Mike’s heart swell a tiny bit as he takes his seat. The sun is hitting you just right and making your face glow, making your eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t know if he can do this.

 “So, what d’you need help with?” He prompts before he can make up his mind to turn right back around. 

 You slide one of the guides over to him and point out several circled questions. The blanks are filled in, but you ask him, “Why?” dramatically. “None of that makes sense to me.”

 Mike laughs through his nose and glances at the page your textbook is flipped to so he can open his own.

 “Why’d you keep your book from last year?”

 He glances up before turning it to show the highlighted lines, the starred passages, the little annotations for better understanding. 

 “One, because I worked hard on making it better, and two,” he feels his mouth curl up, the teasing coming naturally when he tells you, “I figured you’d probably benefit from it.”

 You squint at him, scrunching your nose up, and Mike takes a mental snapshot to tuck away. 

 “Rude,” you utter.

 He raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. “I think ‘thank you’ is the term you’re looking for.”

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain this to me if you’re so smart.”

 “You know I’m smart.”

 Mike doesn’t understand where the casual back-and-forth is coming from. Is it easy because he's done it so many times before? Words tumble from his mouth before they actually cross his mind, and he’s both grateful (it’s better than the awkward small talk he thought he’d have to make) and worried. If he’s speaking without actually thinking things through, what else might he do before his brain catches up? Will he smooth hair out of your eyes? Will he brush his hand over yours? Will he stare at your lips for too long? All of those are habits he hasn’t managed to break yet, but he will break if he accidentally offends you by crossing any of these lines.

 He sits with his hands tucked between his legs, only moving to flip a page or point something out with his pinky finger. He's reading upside down, and you're leaning over the tabe, staring at the book then staring at him. Mike tries to look through you instead of at you, but it's hard as you let out a little oh! when something clicks or pouting when it doesn't. 

 "I still don't get it."

 So, Mike finds different ways of explaining things because he knows this information very well now. It's still pretty fresh in his brain, and he may or may not have reviewed some of it when he saw how many of your classes matched up with his. 

 "Okay, I feel a lot better," you sigh once Mike has gone through every page. 

 Mike is more or less sitting on his hands at this point, gritting his teeth behind the grin plastered on his face because this is the part where he asks if you wanna go back to the house. This is the part where you wind down together, watching dumb TV shows or pawing at each other, rolling in his bed and laughing and moaning. That's what's supposed to happen. 

 "Alright, well, if that's it, I should get going," Mike tries, stretching his arms out and nearly smacking the person sitting behind him right in the head. 

 You snort, cover your mouth, and look away. It's what you always do. You can't look at him when you start laughing or you'll just laugh harder and harder, and while Mike adores it, the general public usually does not. 

 But, then Mike is snickering because he can feel the stranger trying to burn holes in the back of his skull, has to bite his fist to keep himself quiet, and when you chance a glance and see, you slam your head down on the table, whole body shaking with giggles. 

 It's always the little things that get you. On one of the walks with Scout over Spring Break, Mike had tripped over a stick on the trail. He managed to catch himself, but Jesus Christ, you didn't stop laughing for ten minutes. 

 "God fucking—" he's starting to lose it too as he stands and gathers your supplies from the table, tucking them all under one arm then using his other to pull you out of your seat. "We have to leave before they make us." 

 You hide your face in your hands, trusting Mike to guide you by the shoulders, and once you're both outside, you belly laugh until you wave your arms and gasp, "I can't—I can't breathe—I can't breathe!" Your voice is all high pitched and hysterical, and all Mike can do is bring you to his chest so that you can let your giggles die off in the privacy of his t-shirt. 

 He can feel your breath through the material as you calm down, eventually looking up and wiping tears from your eyes as you continue to grin. 

 Mike tilts his face down to stare at you, aware that all of his affections are shining right through his eyes, but he doesn't care because you don't seem to. 

 “You’re a fucking dork,” he hums, has a fully conscious thought of touching your face—no accident, no impulse, a complete, coherent, thought, so he does it. He just does it. Palm over your cheek, thumb gently tracing to wipe away another tear from your little fit. 

 You let out a long exhale, close your eyes and hum, then reach up to cover Mike's hand with yours. 

 Your fingers lock into the spaces between his, and you hold on for a few seconds before letting your hand fall, taking his with it. And, just like that, all the good feelings that had grown inside of him over the course of the study session disappear.

 "Miche," you sigh, still holding onto two of his fingers. 

 He smiles in a way that makes you frown, then mumbles, "Yeah, I know."

 After handing your supplies back, Mike kisses you on the top of the head before you can stop him, then turns and starts walking toward the street his apartment is on. 

 *

"Why are you always wearing that hoodie?" 

 You look up from your laptop just as Zeke steps out of his room freshly showered and shirtless. It's a sight that should probably make your mouth water, but instead it's gone dry at his question. 

 "Oh, uh, I don't really know," you bullshit. "It's just big and comfortable, I guess."

 Zeke uses the towel around his neck to dry his hair a little better, questions, "Well, whose is it?" while his face is slightly obscured. 

 If you pause, he'll probably be suspicious. If you answer, he will also be suspicious. And, you can't really blame him. People know you on campus as Mike Zacharias' friend or girlfriend or plaything or whatever. You assume Zeke having to walk around with that hanging over his head is pretty annoying.  

 "Oh, wait," he starts before you can answer. Squinting without his glasses, he grumbles, "That's one of the lacrosse hoodies, isn't it?" 

 You look down at the cracked logo and try not to smile at it. "Yeah. It's one of Mike's old ones."

 "Right." He pads over to you and takes your laptop from your legs despite your protests of being in the middle of an online assignment, setting it on the coffee table behind him. Then, using one arm to brace himself on the back of the couch, Zeke holds himself above you and takes your chin between two fingers so that he can tilt your face and kiss you. 

 It makes you melt. It always does. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest for about two seconds before it relaxes into a subtle thrumming, a white noise that drowns out everything else. 

 You straighten your back in an attempt to get closer, but Zeke pulls away ever so slightly, makes you chase after his lips and you do. You do because you want more, want him. 

 It's been weeks now and the farthest you've gotten with him, the farthest he's let you get with him, was the series of harsh kisses he'd ladened you with up against his front door a few days ago. He'd pushed your shirt up and shoved a knee between your legs, giving you something to grind against, but it never progressed to anything more. 

 You don't understand. It's not like he's never had sex. You've heard girls talk about him on campus, how he'd been seeing so-and-so for a couple months in freshman year, fucked some other chick at a party, etc., etc. 

 Then you'd met his actual ex the other day, one he dated officially for a semester last year before breaking things off. Her name is Rhi. She's very pretty. And, she had pulled Zeke into a full blown conversation without looking at you once. The way she batted her eyes and smiled at him, twisting her hair and shoving at him playfully—Oh yeah. She's definitely seen him naked. 

 You didn't say anything about it for a while, just stewed in silence until Zeke finally sighed and asked, "What would you like to know?" 

 He'd given you the vague outline—met her in class, studied together, decided to date, left her to focus on baseball. That excuse hit a little too close to home, but you'd let it roll off your shoulders. 

 The point is Zeke has fucked other girls, but he won't fuck you, and you need to know why because you're starting to get desperate. It's not a good look. It's one you never wanted to wear, but the way he stares at you and the way he talks to you, always pointing out your strengths, encouraging you, complimenting you is intoxicating.

 When Zeke's eyes are on you, it’s like you're the most important person in the room. He has some ability to make you feel that way, to make everyone feel that way you realized one night after a game. People flock to him. They want to listen to what he has to say. They want to agree with him where he can see. 

 It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't met him, but the best way you can describe it (a way only a few people will understand) is that he has a twenty for charisma. He's talented and smart and engaging, can convince anyone of anything the same way he's convinced you that he wants you. 

 Hand slipping behind your arching back, Zeke presses you against him for just a moment, then drops onto the couch next to you only to tug you on top of him. 

 You're already breathing too heavily, clutching his face in both your hands as you grind your hips against his. He squeezes your ass, smirking against your mouth when you whimper, then moves his hands to push both the hoodie and your shirt off. 

 You lift your arms, letting Zeke strip you as your mind grows hazy. He mutters more to himself than to you, a low, "Get this shit off," then carelessly tosses your clothes over the armrest. 

 Fingers climb up your ribs, almost tickling, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel that he's getting hard, thank god. This just might be the night, please fucking let it be. 

 You've never been a big fan of terms like ‘blue-balls’ or ‘blue-bean’, never even thought it existed, and it really doesn't; it's just a form of manipulation, of guilting your partner into sex, and you know this because you've had an entire rant about it prepared since high school, but right now, in this particular moment, you're aching. Your insides ache. Your clit aches. You just want—

 Zeke pinches one of your nipples hard enough to clear your head for a second, causes you to cry out and pull back. He lets go, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you and flicks over the sore bud with a fingertip. 

 "Zeke," you breathe, body trembling. 

 "What is it, baby?" He coos. 

 "I—"

 He snakes a hand between the two of you, ridding you of any and all thoughts as he rubs over your covered pussy. You're almost positive that if he keeps doing it, you'll start to leak through your leggings, right into his hand. 

 Panting, an old track plays in the back of your head, a deep voice, breathy and promising, gonna fuck you dry tonight.

 You lean forward to kiss Zeke again, letting him suck and bite hard enough to make the frown on your face look natural, like he put it there. 

 Flames are licking up and down your legs, then your arms, but even though it's Zeke's lap you're sitting in and Zeke's tongue in your mouth and Zeke's fingers massaging your pussy, it's suddenly Mike you're thinking about, and well… That can't be good. 

 You tangle your hands in Zeke's hair, the different texture bringing you back to reality. His thick beard is scratching against your face. His bare torso is wiry with muscle and pressed to yours. He moves his hand and raises his hips to meet yours, a groan catching in his throat. It looks like he's finally losing his composure, cheeks flushed, eyes are foggy. When you break away, he licks away the string of spit holding you together, tongue running over his lip seductively.

 "Can we—" you start, but Zeke speaks at the same time. 

 "It's getting late."

 Blinking at him, you find yourself experiencing too many emotions to actually identify a single one. You feel your eyebrows knit together, but it’s more from your confusion than it is your frustration. 

 But, you don’t want to be frustrated. You don’t want to be or look upset about not getting sex. That would make you a terrible person, and you’re not about to make him feel bad for not being ready to take that step with you. You’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it doesn’t feel good.

 The amount of times you’ve had to masturbate in the last few weeks is a little fucking ridiculous, though. 

 Nodding mostly to yourself to get your thoughts back in line, you slide off of Zeke to stand up. Your hand is trembling when you reach for your clothes, heat still coursing through you, but you manage to gently grab them from the couch rather than snatch them. 

 Shirt and hoodie back in place, you gather your things, feeling Zeke’s gaze on you the entire time. You don’t say anything, just nibble on your bottom lip as you run over all the events that took place over the night, what you possibly did wrong, what turned him off or just failed to turn him on in the first place. 

 After slipping everything back into your bag, Zeke finally gets to his feet and takes it from you, walking with you outside to your car. 

 “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells you, the picture of calm and collected while your body remains buzzing.

 “Okay, yeah.” 

 He puts your stuff in the front passenger seat, shuts the door, and gives you a sweet little peck that you wish lasted longer.

 Zeke says good night, begins walking back to the building, but stops and calls to you right before you shrink into the car. 

 Even from this distance, you can tell he’s looking you dead in the eye, face suddenly very serious when he tells you, “You can go ahead and stop wearing that hoodie.”

* For the first time since the semester started, lacrosse and baseball games do not overlap one another, and you're able to spend the warm afternoon in the stands, cheering on the friends you made over the last year. 

 The home team is dominating, Mike and Erwin are too fucking quick for their opponents to get in the way of. The way the ball just flies back and forth between them, like a game of keep-away, shows just how on-the-same-page they are. The other guys are good too, doing a spectacular job of staying one leg ahead, defending their star players and assisting in the offensive effort. 

 The last goal is made by Mike who launches the ball from the center of the field right into the goal, and both the crowd and the teams lose their fucking minds. 

 You're up on your feet screaming and clapping, voice breaking as your shrill cry tears your throat. You know you're being drowned out by everyone around you, but as Mike gets lauded for being the god he is—putting up with backslaps and hugs and a headlock from Erwin—he still manages to find you in the second row, grinning in that crooked way you love so much. 

 You don't know exactly when that started happening, probably sometime after Spring break. Or, maybe it was there since the beginning, just laying dormant at the back of your head so that you could focus on denying him. 

 It doesn't really matter now since you're actually with someone. That someone isn't around right now, but he's in your thoughts as your chest fills with affection and pride for your friend. 

 Erwin is shouting about another open party, and your mind is made up to not attend because Zeke wouldn't appreciate it, but then Mike is suddenly lifting himself onto the raised, concrete stands and pointing at you, and before you know it, you're hopping down the next bleacher without a care for the fans who have to lean out of the way. 

 He's incredibly sweaty as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you don't mind. You were so convinced he would be mad at you or try to avoid you. 

 You're very aware that you had hurt him by getting with Zeke, and while he had been pretty guarded for the first few weeks, he's opened up some since that day in the coffee shop, when you'd nearly giggled yourself to death. You hadn't expected that to be what cracked his walls, especially considering how that visit had ended, but you're glad that it did. 

 "Haven't seen you cheering for me in a while," Mike laughs next to your ear. 

 He's dizzy with adrenaline, swaying back and forth as he squeezes you, and you tell him, "If you make us fall, I will beat you up, I swear." 

 "Okay," he says in a stupid voice of obvious disbelief, "Whatever you say." 

 You've been texting more, going over homework together, though you haven't needed his help in-person since he had switched books with you that day. It had been so smooth and subtle, you didn't realize until you opened it to study the following day, immediately noticing all the notes and highlights. 

 It had made you cry like a little bitch in the middle of your dorm, and you called Mike to thank him without bothering to hide your tears and hiccups. 

 "Come to the party tonight," he demands, but it's so soft, like he's still giving you a chance to say no. 

 The crowd is still yelling, so you have to keep speaking into each other's ears, and you ask, "Why? All the Pike parties are sticky and gross."

 "'Cause we haven't gotten drunk together in a while," Mike states in the form of a whine. 

 You snort, feeling his hair dripping onto your shoulder. You should probably be disgusted, but it's not the first time you've gotten sweaty with him, and it's definitely not the worst bodily fluid he's made a mess on you with. 

 "You know what happens when we get drunk together," you remind him with a smile he can't see. "Can't do that anymore."

 "I promise I'll behave."

 That's not the problem. You don't know if you can behave. You've been wound up for over a month now, and it is driving you insane. No matter how many times you get off alone in your room at night, you still ache as if you're being edged. 

 So, getting fucked up with someone you know for a fact can fuck you stupid… probably not the best idea. 

 "Miche," you protest, drawing his name out. 

 "Just think about it."

 He leaves you with that, hopping down and walking away with his arms in the air as everyone surrounding you cheers for him until he disappears. You just stand there amidst the noise, shirt now wet as you contemplate the pros and cons of going to another PKA party. 

 As always, Zeke asks what your plans are for the night, but for the first time since you met him, you lie. * King's Cup and Rage Cage and Beer Pong galore. Party-goers are pooling onto the lawn, and you're just waiting for campus police to show because of the chaos, but you're not necessarily scared of it. So you go to jail for a couple days. Worse things could happen. 

 Currently, you and Mike are sitting on the sidewalk nursing beers and giggling at the new pledges who keep running around the house in less and less clothes. 

 "Honestly, this isn't that bad," Mike tells you. "Erwin suggested we make them all watch snuff together."

 You give him an incredulous look as you raise the glass bottle to your mouth. "Erwin is a god damn psychopath, what the fuck."

 "We had to do it and didn't turn out too bad."

 "And, just like that, I'm scared of you."

 Mike laughs before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling as a brawny blond speeds past in nothing but boxers—Reiner, you think his name is. 

 There are only a few new guys who stick out to you—that one, a long-faced kid named Jean, freckle boy Marco, and, naturally, Zeke's younger brother, Eren. He sorta skeeves you out, so you've been doing your best to stay out of his sight despite never formally meeting him before. 

 "Kid's kind of a prick, a little too cocky. Always talking about how he's related to Zeke, or should I say your lo-ver," Mike chuckles, sounding amused, but he still downs the rest of his beer afterward. 

 You let out a little growl, just drunk enough to be too honest, and grumble, "Not my lover. Also, I would never use that term. So cringey."

 "What do you mean?"

 "I mean it's weird and dramat—"

 "No," Mike cuts you off, "What do you mean about him not being that?"

 You fall back on the concrete, bumping the back of your head a little too hard and scrunching your face up. 

 "We haven't had sex. The dude just will not fuck me for some reason."

 "Are you serious?" 

 You glance at Mike and find his eyes wide in alarm. 

 "As a heart attack. I have never been so frustrated in my entire life." 

 You probably shouldn't be talking about this with him, one, because you assume it's like twisting a knife right in Mike's gut and two, because the more you drink, the less self-control you have. 

 He grunts then tosses his bottle into the yard for some poor pledge to slip on. 

 "His loss."

 "Whatever. I'm sure he'll come around eventually," you sigh then sit back up. "And, until then, I guess I'm practicing celibacy or some shit."

 Mike laughs hard at that, and it makes you smack him on the arm. "Yeah, good luck with that."

 "Shut up."

 "I'm just saying," he raises his hands. "You're, like, the neediest person I know."

 "Excuse the fuck outta me?" 

 "In the bedroom, dummy. Obviously not all the time."

 This is not at all where you wanted this conversation to go. The more you think about it, the more you feel that ache, the more you want to quell it. 

 "We should change the subject."

 Mike looks at you, flipping hair out of his eyes and smiling like the cocky frat boy he pretends to be. 

 "Why? Gettin' all worked up."

 "You are literally the worst."

 You stand and finish your drink, throwing it a few feet away from Mike's as you tell him, "I need to get a little more fucked up if I'm gonna deal with your ass all night."

 "Uh huh."

 He follows you back inside, but while you make your way into the kitchen, Mike stops to talk with Erwin about one thing or another. It means he has to entertain the masses, talk about the game, and you post up against a wall to watch him. 

 You should leave. Mike is looking a little too attractive in his stupid fucking pastel polo, and you're supposed to meet Zeke for lunch tomorrow anyway. Zeke, your boyfriend. 

 Or, well, he hasn't said it explicitly, but you hold hands in public and ignore other people, just make it obvious that both of you aren't interested in anyone else. 

 Except when Mike sidles up to you with foggy eyes and a smirk he hasn't worn around you in a long time, you groan at the thought that you are interested in someone else. Even if it's just one night, god, you need it so bad. And, you know Mike can give it to you. Exactly the way you want it. 

 It's Zeke's fault, really. You know he knows how desperate you're getting. If he'd just explain why he doesn't want to have sex, you could deal with it much better than you are now, but he continues to leave you in the dark. It makes you think you're doing something wrong. 

 Then, there's the problem of feeling like the shittiest person alive every time you get frustrated. You've spent nights trying to rationalize it, but it's hard to think straight when you're so, undeniably horny. 

 "Don't look at me like that," you tell Mike with a scoff. 

 "Why not?" 

 "'Cause you said you'd behave tonight."

 He cocks his head to the side and makes a face. "Did I? That doesn't sound like something I'd say to you."

 "Oh my god, you're impossible. And, drunk."

 "I'm not really that drunk," he waves you off. "It takes more than a few beers to get me fucked up, remember? Downfall of being this large."

 Jesus, he really is rubbing it in your face now. Wide with muscle and so fucking tall. Not to mention his—

 "I really cannot do this, Miche," you try again, gritting your teeth when his pupils dilate. "Zeke would be so pissed."

 "So? Come on, just one more time. I didn't know the last time would be the last time."

 You hadn't either. You don't know what you would have done differently had you known—maybe just taken the time to appreciate his incredible body more—but it doesn't matter now. 

 You try to sound firm and irritated when you snap, "You know you're being kinda manipulative, right?" 

 Mike tilts his head back as if you just shoved it, blinks a couple times, then swears out loud. "Oh, fuck." He takes a step away, eyes clear for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't even—"

 "It's fine," you wave. "I just wanted you to know. I'm drunk and you're hot, and I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke."

 "Yeah, I get it. Fuck. If you, like, wanna leave, I won't stop you. It was a joke, and then it wasn’t a joke and—That was a shit thing to do."

 "Little bit, but you get a pass this time," you laugh through your nose. "Just don't go pulling that bullshit on some unsuspecting freshman or anything." 

 He runs a hand through his hair, red with embarrassment, and you think to yourself, Mike is a good guy. One of the best. You don't know of many who would take that kind of criticism to heart—how many would feel genuinely guilty. It is college, and every girl knows the trend of fratty sports players getting off scot-free after being charged with sexual assault. Given his status at the school, Mike could definitely do something like that and get away with it.

 But, he would never. 

 You push him gently to show you aren't mad, tell him, "I still wanna hang out with you. We don't get to as much as we used to."

 Mike's small smile looks relieved as he takes a deep breath. "This isn't exactly the best place to just chill, but—"

 "I haven't seen your new apartment yet." 

 You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, your little tune changing ridiculously quickly, but you can't deny that you're curious. He's still your best friend, and you want to know what he's done with his new place. Is it bland like his old room in the house, or did he let his real personality show through? 

 "You sure?" He questions. 

 "Yeah. We can just, like, play video games or something."

 "Are you sure?" 

 He must feel terrible. You can relate.

 "If you don't want me over, just say so," you snort. 

 "No, no, of course I do. I just don't want you to feel weird about being alone or anything."

 "Nah, like you said, you're not really drunk. I'll sober up with water. We'll be fine."

 You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself. Without the presence of alcohol, you should be able to keep it together, and the distraction of Zelda or Mario will surely help. 

 "Okay, yeah," Mike nods. "Let's go then."

You don't even bother finishing your drink, just set it on a countertop and follow him out to his Wrangler. It's been a while since you've ridden in it. It's been a while since you've ridden him, your brain helpfully supplies, and as you pull up to the unfamiliar apartment complex, you once again begin to think that this was a bad idea.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader

[angieschiffahoi]

Ok, alright. I finished Harrow. 

First off, I have to give it to this series: this is the first time in I don’t even know how long I have started - let alone finished - the second book in a series. And, unless things change in whatever time left before Alecto comes out, I am planning to finish the series. Something that hasn’t happened since I was still in the good side of my twenties (I mean, I don’t think Homo Sacer counts as a series, does it?). 

Now. To the review! Haha, just kidding. Probably just yelling and incoherent mumbling. 

Obviously, spoilers. 

The writing: As I already pointed out in some of my posts, this is a more mature novel and it proves that the author wasn’t just throwing in slang because she couldn’t commit to a writing style. This is a fantasy space opera which mocks Greek tragedies, so it had to have a unique style. I have to admit, though, that the leap from book 1 to book 2 is... quite ambitious. The first is a 400 pages book that feels like it’s 200 and this one is a 500 pages book that feels like it’s 900. It’s mostly because it is pretty confusing and it is not a light summer read. There’s great attention to detail in the writing and, therefore, there must be great attention to detail when reading. I should have marked stuff with post-its but I was reading on my Kindle. I probably should’ve bought a hard copy as well, because I really wanted to go back and read some bits, but on the Kindle it is not as easy (for example all of those notes by Wake Harrow kept reading). It was very clever to write in third and second person, both for sentimental reasons and comprehension purposes. It was a bit jarring when we switched to first person in the later chapters, but I got used to it. It is a style that sometimes pulls you out of the story, it is ambitious, sometimes a bit tedious (especially during the fights that drag on), but I don’t mind when authors finally break those rules that make all new novels identical. This is a writing experiment and I enjoyed it. The “Miette” joke, while funny in a fanfiction, may have been a bit too much even for me, though. 

The plot: I was a bit disappointed with the final reveal. The whole book I kept saying “Nah, Gideon’s not the Emperor’s daughter,” because it was a bit cliché. I really was hoping she was the lovechild of two Lyctors, but the “Hi, I’m Not Fucking Dead. I’m Dad.” was worth it. Now can I start referring to Gideon as Hercules? And, no, she’s not Heracles. She’s obviously Disney’s Hercules (except that she has a “mortal” mum). Also, while the last few chapters of Gideon wrapped up all of the mysteries nicely and kept some stuff for the sequels, ending this on three cliffhangers was a bit too much (for me). But second installments in trilogies tend to do that. I’m just afraid I won’t remember half of the things I will need to understand Alecto and I really hope the narrative in that will be a little simpler than in Harrow. The question was never “will I finish it?”, because it is a compelling book, but “how exhausted will I be?” And I kind of was. I got to admit though that, as usual, all of the plot twists felt earned and it feels like a thoroughly planned trilogy. I still can’t understand half the lore, though. I don’t know if it’s because I was a bit tired while reading, but I couldn’t really picture the Resurrection Beasts and the “planet killing” subplot (it didn’t feel like main plot). The Ortus/Gideon Prime trying to kill Harrow every fifteen minutes was a bit silly and, yes, it added tension and drama, but it was a bit too much (not unnecessary, because of the link to the Emperor trying to fix her, but it played a bit cartoonish).

The genre: while Gideon was hardly sci-fi and this one is far from being hard sci-fi, it was nice to see more space elements. The first book had a fantasy, mystery, thriller feelings (up to the main battle at the end, which felt like a boss battle in a fantasy video game). This one was way more science-fictiony but with Greek tragedy elements and it had a lot more horror and gore. 

The characters: I missed Gideon so much. Even in the chapters she was narrating, it didn’t really feel like her, mostly - I believe - because the author wanted to maintain the mystery of who the narrator was. But I feel it was a bit of a disservice to Gideon, because she has such a distinct voice that it didn’t feel like her, until she showed up in Harrow’s body. I loved seeing all of my faves from the first book and I have a feeling we’ll see them again. Especially, Palamedes who’s clueless in his bubble. I’m glad Camilla is alive and Abigail Pent is the MVP. Took me a while to get who Commander Wake was and I still don’t really understand her connection to the Emperor and the Lyctors (and how she got the name? I mean, it’s funny, but you have to explain that). Ianthe was... interesting, but I really don’t want her near Harrow. She may have a crush, but she’s manipulative and doesn’t really know how to act on it. Harrow really became her own character and I’m glad the two protagonists now are fully explored. I liked the Emperor. John Gaius is my dude, I’m sorry. Maybe he’s evil, maybe he’s not but he makes dad jokes and I love him. Mercy, Augustine and Ortus/Gideon were... a bit forgettable honestly. A bit of a caricature, but they reminded me a lot of petty Greek gods. Nobody touch Ortus Nigenad. He’s my baby, too. The Sleeper (in the River bubble) was a very creepy character and it reminded me of Russel T. Davis era Doctor Who antagonists. 

All in all, there were a lot of great moments. It isn’t a book for everyone and I understand that. I still feel like the people criticizing the series are doing it for the wrong reasons and focusing too much on the writing style, while there is something that does not fully convince me, but it’s not the writing. I think people - especially in fantasy - are getting too used to third person limited. Using different points of view is fun and more writers should experiment. There are a lot of compelling books written in first person and terrible books written in third person omniscient. The talent of a writer isn’t in how “by the book” they are, but if they make a well written, compelling story with three dimensional characters. The Locked Tomb, so far, has all three. 

I may have missed something, but the book was very full and I’m not very good at remembering things. 

#harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #spoilers #angie rants #ignore #the locked tomb

[sweeethinny]

something that was born out of nowhere, with the idea that Ginny and Harry were college students I'm having problems with chapter ends, but I think it's tired, I don't know

----------------

Harry was not a party guy. In fact, he didn't even know, since he had barely gotten to go in one - his initiation, which ended with him naked got on the curb all dirty with grease - but he had convinced himself to go in that one, just because, Tim had convinced him (his roommate).

''Will be cool! It's in the house of those hot girls'' Harry looked at his colleague over the sci-fi book, trying to understand who he was talking about ''That republic we passed by and I told you that this was where CJ had met his girlfriend'' He nodded, wanting to get away from it. If parties weren't your forte, hot women throwing parties and parading on the hearts of innocent boys and girls, neither were they. And that republic had that fame.

But now that he was there, it didn't seem so horrible to be destroyed by one of them.

There were a lot of people, dancing on the table, drinking upside down, without a shirt, playing games, smoking ... and Harry started to question whether the choice of clothes that was a little too social, was matching so much informality. Two girls and a guy stopped to talk to him and flirt ... ugly wasn't.

''Let's play'' Tim pointed to beer pong, where the hockey captain was shirtless and roaring loudly, with an almost empty bottle of vodka in his hand.

The guy looked like a wall that was so big and strong, which explained the line of women drooling and flirting nonstop, while he didn't even seem to care, as if it were natural. God had his favorites.

As soon as they approached, the music getting a little more muffled in that external area, he saw that the guy was playing with one of the girls from the republic - he imagined, since the woman had one of the mugs with their coat of arms, hanging on her waist by the band green moss - and may God help him, the redhead would get lifetime permission to end his life.

Her dress was all shiny, like a party globe, dangerously short and tight, showing beautiful pieces of that creamy, freckled skin, while her red hair was tied in a high ponytail, leaving her neck all showing - which caused a shiver. Harry, who just thought about how delicious it would be to suck her skin. Her brown eyes were painted brown and they also shone, her red eyebrow raised in defiance to the player, while her abusively red mouth smirked, as if she knew she could finish anyone, even a guy almost five times her size

'' You lost, baby, say goodbye and let another one in, I don't like crying children '' Some girls who were on your side laughed, even some guys, but the player didn't seem to like it very much

'' You were dirty Weasley, I thought showing your breasts wasn't worth it '' She shrugged, playing with the ping pong ball in her hand, still with her chin up and her foot tapping rhythmically to the music ... Since when feet have become so attractive?

'' I didn't show my boobs, as much as I know you were wishing for it '' Winked

'' Who is she? '' He asked Tim, who seemed to want a blonde woman who was nearby, looking too much at the woman's deep cleavage.

‘’Ginny Weasley. If there's a girl who carries a list of men and women she left with a broken heart, it's her. ''

'' Next? '' Her brown eyes passed over everyone, her tongue roaming over the red lips savoring the last drops of whatever she had been drinking, smiling slyly as stopped at him and Tim talking '' Hey, you '' She pointed out, her long black nails shining in the light, along with the various rings on the fingers '' Want to play? ''

"Me?" Harry felt his stomach churn. Okay, he said that she could end his life, but in front of everyone?

''Yup. I've never seen you around here, and I think my friends are too stoned to be able to win a fair match ... Come on '' Well ... she could send he jum off a bridge with that little smile as she ran her hand over the red hair like fire, as if aligning them on the tail, before throwing them back again. Harry never managed to be very self-controlled in front of hot women, and that one definitely burned some of his neurons

'' Okay '' He looked hastily at Tim, who had barely noticed the moment, flirting with the blonde and looking like he was about to take her anywhere else. He would be alone. Not alone, alone, there were about ten or fifteen people around the table, but none who could help him if the redhead destroyed him without mercy.

"What's your name?" Ginny picked up a pint of something too blue to be relatively good, approaching his side of the table and filling the glasses, leaning sensually to reach for the glasses further away. She was small, he realized, even to him the woman looked like a porcelain doll. Sure, much sexier and more real, but still.

'' Harry..Harry Potter '' His chest could explode at any moment

'' Are you new around here? '' Ginny returned to her side, filling the only two empty glasses, before dropping the bottle on the floor again, leaning on the table and looking at him with interest, as if looking for which part of his body would devour first. Harry was not super strong like the players, not even thin and skeletal, he had gained a muscle here and there last summer when he helped his father build a tree house for his godfather's son, but it wasn't much. In a fit of nervousness, he ran his hand through his hair, before ending it on the back of the neck, biting his cheek

'' No ... I mean, this is the first time I have come here, but I ... I study law'' He nodded nervously, trying to control himself. Why did she look at him so intently? Was it one of the moves that women in the Republic had agreed to make before they ended up with someone? Because it worked.

'' Uhhh, we have a good boy around here '' She smiled from ear to ear, throwing the ball at him and winking '' Just for that I will let you start. '' Heavens, he would soon start to sweat and they weren't even close summer's.

"And you?" He threw the ball, trying not to smile when he hit one of the glasses in the middle. His aim was one of the things he could be proud of, and thank baseball practice with his father.

'' Journalism'' Ginny drank it all in one gulp, wiping with one finger the only taste that had run down the corner of her lips, seeming barely to realize how erotic she was able to leave that simple movement. '' You are good, Ed missed almost all of them '' The ball fell into one of his glasses, floating in the blue liquid '' It tastes good, sweetie, you don't even notice the alcohol .. And that's why everyone is like this '' Harry he laughed, taking it all in and making a slight grimace when the last hint of alcohol burned his throat

'' It doesn't taste good '' He missed the cup '' But it's not the worst thing I've ever taken ''

'' I've had something much worse '' Ginny laughed mischievously, pressing her lips together before playing again, making a small mistake

'' Can I deduce that we are not talking about vodkas? '' For some reason, making that comment with sexual content in front of a lot of people and a woman, was not embarrassing. Sometimes it was like he was still a teenager, blushing when a girl was talking about a penis.

'' Yup'' He got it right ''Will you make me drunk? '' Another empty glass ''By the way, I'm Ginny Weasley '' The redhead leaned over, stretching out her hand in greeting, and Harry understood what the player wanted to say about her showing her breasts, since when she did that, the dress created a delicious crease and presented his eyes with the delicious curves that woman had. His mouth went dry

'' Your trick won't affect me '' He shook her hand, soft and small.

'' What trick? '' She smiled innocently, hitting a glass ''I would never play dirty, Potter'' Harry almost sighed when his last name slid down her lips, wondering how she would moan if it was just the two of them and he would attack, sitting her down on the table and finding out how far the freckles went.

He didn't even care about the audience anymore, she could finish him off right there, Harry wouldn't care at all.

[...]

The two laughed sitting on a tight sofa, drunk and looking like friends of years, with her always making a point of leaning on her arm or laying her head on his shoulder, crossing her beautiful legs and poking his in the calf with her heel, as if provoking him

'' Do you want to go outside? I'm starting to sweat in here. '' Ginny fanned herself, looking at him with those brown eyes that looked like they had been dipped in the sweetest chocolate. It was addictive to look at her

'’Sure’' He helped her to her feet, trying not to imagine that this was a premise for them to cling to the garden, or that someone would spill something on her dress and Ginny would have to get it out as soon as possible before stain, and when they went up to clean, they would have sex.

Harry saw a lot of romance movies, what's the matter?

'' I'm sad we didn't know each other before '' She sighed, wearing her own black jacket as she leaned against a tree, the wind making her dress stick even more to her body, the light from the pole lighting her up gracefully, making her hair look almost golden. '' Where have you been all these years? '' The woman didn't seem so dangerous anymore, but that was always the worst, because the more kind they looked, the more fucked up you would get in the end. But maybe Harry wouldn't complain about that if he could at least prove it.

That last candy that would be the cause of his death, which even possibly poisoned, looked delicious.

'' Around '' Shrugged '' In general, I was in the class or in my dormitory '' She laughed, looking around before turning to him

'' I always liked the good guys '' 

'' How do you know I'm one? '' Ah, liquid courage would still get he in trouble

'' Just betting big '' She shrugged '' But if you want to prove me otherwise ... '' Jesus, how could she look so tempting even if she just smiled? It was as if he had never seen a woman in his life.

Although, he had never seen any like this.

'' You know, it's a shame that Katie broke up with her boyfriend today and we all promisse not to go out with any boys, in their respect ... I really wanted to go out with you ''

'' Well '' He shrugged, nervous as hell '' It's just a day, right? I can let you take me inside and hit me in the face, just for the theater. '' Ginny laughed, pulling on his black T-shirt, without bringing him forward or anything, just playing with the fabric as if thinking about what to do

'' I would never hit you in the face, it's too beautiful '' She reached up to grace his cheek, shaving her nails and causing him to shiver, playing with his trimmed beard

"That's not what we hear from you ..."

'' Ah, our miserable reputation '' Ginny didn't look sad, in fact, she smiled '' Big heartbreakers ... poor little men who ended up injured after treating us like trash '' She pretended to wipe tears, pouting adorable '' I can tell you that everyone deserved it '' The two got closer, dangerously, closer

'' I trust you '' He could barely take his eyes off her lips. So full, and red. '' Katie may be looking '' Harry wanted to beat himself up, but he couldn't be so dirty with her. She had promised, before anything.

'' That was a test .. '' Ginny smiled, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close '' If you didn't care about my promise to Katie, it would be like the others '' She shrugged '' That's why I love the good boys, always so kind '' So they were kissing. And it was simply the best kiss Harry had ever had.

He was right, her taste was so addictive, so sweet he could barely get away from her, pinning her to the tree and squeezing her waist as if he wanted to prevent everything from magically disappearing.

That would be his undoing, for sure.

But Harry always made it very clear that he wouldn't care about that.

#hinny #harry x ginny #hinny au #hp au #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter au #hp couples

[skittles1229]

THE EVER CHANGING STORY OF LUNARIS (reader insert romance)

SOME OF THESE CHARACTERS AND PLACES ECT. DO NOT BELONG TO ME, THEY WERE MADE BY LUNARIS GAMES FOR THE INTERACTIVE VISUAL NOVEL "WHEN THE NIGHT COMES" AVAILABLE EITHER FROM THIER WEBSITE OR ON ITCH. THE COVER IS ALSO FROM LUNARIS GAMES (ITS THIER PIN SET FOR SALE ON THIER SITE)

https://www.wtncgame.com/collections/pins-charms/products/wtnc-holo-sparkle-charms

This is a project I started to maintain my boredom so ill be using the characters from a really great visual novel called when the night comes written by lunaris. go check it out! ill be writing about all the characters including you being the x reader. after I've introduced the plot and characters and if i have enough readers, ill let you guys pick who I right the first romance ending with, the endings will probably have a bit of smut so if your just wanting to know the story you don't have to read the romantic endings

____________________________________

Chapter One: Unwelcome Start

        My feet are killing me and its hot and dark, I'm walking through unfamiliar woods. All I can smell is tree leaves decaying and pine. To fill you in without telling you my life story and having a pity party, I'm one of the few shifting Dire Wolves left. We are a dying breed since people and monsters were coexisting now, I'm over joyed about the mixing of the populations but as the wolves breed with humans our ability to shift is slowing leaving as the generations grow. I on the other hand wasn't liked by much of anyone. I grew up around old town human folk. Both parents had been killed by townsfolk and luckily the little who girl found me as a puppy was nice enough to bring me to her home. That little girl became my life. Her blonde hair reminded me of wheat in the fall and she smelled of old moth balls and freshly cooked bacon. Kasey was a lonely child born a bastard and then left alone when her mom left into town one day. She didn't come home that night. She had the kindest eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul and hers was broken and glued back together so many times that you couldn't recognize her original beauty. She brought me to a little cabin back in the woods where I stayed with her and her grandmother.  I stayed out of school because at the time freaks weren't exactly normal. I learned everything through Kasey and her homework as I grew up. We played in the old field through the woods and down an old forgotten gravel road. She would always tease me about my ears but she loved my big bushy tail. Kasey was a pure soul and sometimes id have to remind her how special she was especially during the times to come. She became ill in late fall, losing her ability to walk and becoming more and more pale from the lack of sunlight. We were told she had an immune issue that couldn't be fix with the medicine we had then and magic was a cure but was also out of the question since anyone who was seen as a witch was seen as a harm to the community and burned at the stake. It wasn't that way in the big towns with lots of people coming and going bustling about, but down here in the boon dock of the forgotten swamp everyone had the same opinion. anything new and different was and and therefore had to be destroyed.

         When I was around six Kasey succumb to her unfortunate circumstances in her sleep and she took her welcome with her. I think that maybe it was one of the few mercies I've ever seen god do for someone. After she died the grandmother, already being on her last years, passed not long after that. With nothing holding me to that little shack in the woods I moved on. I was never given a name and so along the way I've figured out who and what I am. Remind me to tell you that one later on, I've been walking for a few days with my satchel made from rabbit fur with old shoe laces holding it together, Kasey in her better days stayed bored in her old pink bedroom reading the same book she had on the old bookcase in the living room. Her grandmother went to the market in town most days to sell her vegetables. she would bring us home sweets and toys. For Kasey's birthday she bought her a bag of fabric rabbit fur and some thread and needles to teach her to sew hoping that would cure her boredom. A few months before she passed, she hurriedly finished off the synch bag with one of her shoelaces from her boots. That bag is the one I have with me now. My clothes and few days worth of food is in it as well. I had been shifted into my wolf form going on 48 hours now and my (F/C favorite color ) fur was now stained with mud and leaves from the nights sleep in a dug out hole. The last sign of civilization was back in my home town. it was now night time again and had seen no sign of a town any where close. It was getting dark and my joints were burning from the pain of walking. I quickly found a soft spot in the ground digging up a little hole to lay in for the night. The woods around me creaked with shifting wood and wind rustling the foliage. Harry had become the governor a while back suddenly disappeared recently in his home base in Lunaris. That's where Kasey's grandmother went for hours everyday to be a part of the market so I decided to see if there was anywhere I could stay and maybe get a job and start a life for myself. All this time I had no real name, Kasey never named me. She wanted me to be able to choose it for myself and I'm now 20 in human years. Our bodies aged in human instead of dog years another kind of pro with the watering down of the generations. I had gone through all of Kasey's family and school friends, even people she heard the name of by passing by in church, I'd heard all the names and thought about them and said them all out loud the see how they role off the tongue and I finally settled on (Y/N) tonight. 

      I had fallen asleep at some point and shifted back into human form curling around my bag to protect it from the outside. Suddenly the ground around me started to shake and the foliage covering the entrance to the den started to shake loose and fall in. At this point I'm wide awake and have my back to the wall and head in a snarl towards the entrance not knowing why or what had shaken the ground so harshly. I smell a fowl smell that reeks of something I've never smelled before. It began to burn my nose like alcohol or whatever grandma had in the wash rooms for spring cleaning. I heard twigs breaking and a long groan that howled with the wind. My heart was racing not knowing what to expect to come through the entrance and that's when I saw the light from the moon blocked by a large shadow. I braced for a fight when suddenly it let out a yelp of pain as I see two or three other shadows chase it to the right of the hole. Lots of yelling from men and women can be heard along with lots of new smells. All of them had hints of sweat and fear but some of them were odd. One was carried in on a breath of lavender and honey and the other of burnt wood like a fire place. One also smelled like chocolate and for a split second I smelled the familiar canine sent, Another wolf or maybe a half breed Lykan. I laid there and listened as the group seemed to quickly dominate whatever that creature was and if there's a group of hunters then there has to be a town. I wait for the noise to die out before I stick my head out of the hole to check my area. I look at the position of the moon and start to get a better idea of how long I was asleep. I think it must have been at least 3 in the morning. I grabbed my bag and pulled myself out of the hole, shaking off loose dirt and changing myself back into that big furry wolf I've become used to and walk towards where I heard the commotion to catch the scent of where they had gone. The creature they fought was dead on the ground covered in its black oozing blood. It looked like a genetic mutation of some kind gone very wrong and the smell almost could knock you out, if your a dog that is. I heard a snap of a twig in the distance and that's when I caught the scent of a dying summer, decaying flowers and dying memories. 

      I see a blue glow coming from an object a few feet in front of me hidden in the darkness of the trees, whatever it was it made it very clear that I was unwelcome and that I was seen as a threat. I bent neck down feeling the hair along my spine start to stand on end as I snarled my teeth in the direction of the ominous blue glow. Suddenly the tense feeling in the air dropped, you could feel the tension melt away and in that second the strange creature pushes forward into the moonlight. A man with golden eyes and a mechanical arm moves forward looking with his hands raised. "My names Finnegan and I know you wont hurt me because your not just any wolf am I right?" The sudden question brushes me as weird and out of place but regardless it only makes me all the more persistent that he not come any closer. He stops in his tracks and sits in the tall grass he had been previously standing in. We sat there like that for what seems like forever and he seemed to feel talkative because he asked question after question. I looked around to think of what direction I wanted to go in order to get away from here .

     "You know it would be easier to go to Lunaris." he said picking at something under his nails. I look at him tilting my head, can he hear my thoughts? I didn't think humans could do such things but he didn't look like a human. Not with the fangs like that and those pointed ears. "No I'm not human I'm a vampire, I live in Lunaris with my friends. I actually have a Lykan friend as well so you wont be alone." I bent my ears back in annoyance, tired of the vamp imposing on my thoughts. I decided I would speak with him but not in this form. As a Lykan I could still stay able to protect myself and be able to speak to this other freak of nature in front of me. In order to do so I'd have to get away from this vampire long enough to cover myself. Almost instantly the vamp got up causing me to jump. "There's a graveyard a little ways from here, you can shift and change in the maintenance shed. As I'm sure you heard earlier there are some odd creatures in these woods so ill walk you to town myself. Then I can take you to Ezra and have him give you a once over." he began to walk and turned around about five feet away to ask if I was going to follow, I decide that this town might be a start to a weird series of events. We made our way through the woods to a small path of cleared trees and some sand, we followed that to the graveyard behind a large church like building and that's when I saw the small shed. "I'll stand behind the shed towards the woods I'm sure nobody is awake so you shouldn't have to worry about townsfolk." I shifted back into my Lykan form and hurry into the shed. My (hair length) (H/Color) hair fell over my face as I shoved myself into my tight jeans and put my long sleeve white shirt on. my ears still sat on the top of my head and my tail is swishing back and forth in anticipation of how this town was going to accept a new comer and a freak at that. I threw on the hoodie I had found hanging on a tree on my way out of my old town, probably left by one of the boys in the old town. I smoothed my fur down and walked out of the shed with my bag in my hands, I peaked my head around the corner and caught the golden eyes of the man called Finnegan as he's leaned against the shack with his arms crossed. 

      I walk up to him with my arm wrapped around my bag and offered him the other. "My names (y/n), sorry about the weird introduction but I really just have no clue where I am or where I'm going." he grinned and studied me before opening up and talking again. "You cleanup really well don't you (y/n)." I simply lowered my head as a response and shrugged my shoulders. " It would suck to have to stay as wolf all the time because I'm just to ugly to look at as a Lykan." he laughs flashing his fangs and approaching me and taking my hand pulling me closer to him to where we were inches apart. "Ugly is one thing you aren't, if your this pretty as a Lykan then I cant wait to see you in human form" he then snuck his arm around my waist turning me around as he began to walk to the town. "How did you know I could do that?" I stopped him and I could see his grin form as he turned around to meet my eyes. "I've been alive a long time (y/n).  when the old man who sired me was alive he'd tell us stories of the dire wolves that lived in the forest in the mountains. He would tell us stories of how they had almost repopulated in a town not far from here, completely unannounced to the world growing among the town folk." he looked away suddenly his essence changed from one of wisdom and confidence to one of remorse and sadness. He began to walk once again motioning for me to follow. "That is until the townsfolk caught wind  of such rumors. He banded together the higher ups and went through exposing half the town to be," he grimaces as if saying the name leaves a sour taste in his mouth, "werewolves as the humans put it."  We had just made it through a small alley leading too a large stone road. This is the first time I've heard the real story aloud of what happened to my parents that day. Suddenly I  didn't feel much like talking anymore and the vampire noticed this as we made it to the closed up and dark market side of town. Large tents and shacks were on both sides of the road, I'm sure it looks much nicer when its open and bustling with people. "I'll have to show it to you." he says suddenly again answering my thoughts as if id said them aloud. "You know Finn I love your interest in me but I think its kind of of rude to read others thoughts right?" His eyes suddenly dart away and clears his throat, "Not if the person has particularly loud thoughts but I do see what you mean. Nasty habit it is, been aiming to fix that." We both laugh for a bit and then he heads for a door on the right side of the road raising his metal arm to touch the door. When his hand makes contact, Finn says a few words in another language and his arm burst to  life flowing with blue lights. The door makes a noise and a shield seams to lower into Finn's hand as he opens the door. He pulls me in and I'm immediately overwhelmed at the smells around me, some fragrant like perfumes and others dirty like burning wood. He had shelves of boxes and books, homemade spells and food with jars of candy lining the shelves.

     Finn puts the wards back up and leads me to the kitchen where he sits me down at the wooden table across from the couch and the wall covered in art work, "Wait here while I run upstairs and get the witch you just relax and think if anything hurts or needs to be looked at." with Finns vampy speed skills he vanishes up the stairs to get this so called witch, I certainly do hope I don't meet the same fate as my parents once did in this town years ago. I here rustling and movement up the stairs as a dark skinned man comes running to me with worried eyes and open arms. he cups my face in his hands and scans me over for any sign of blood or wounds. "Finnegan she looks alright, you made her out to be as if she'd been attacked." He looks back at Finn letting go of my face in order to hit him in the head just enough to scuffle his hair. He then turns around to me and straightens up his robe and his curly mop of hair, I hold out my hand to introduce myself and he grabs it with both hands pulling me in with a smile. "I'm Ezra and this my little spells and Knick knack shop." he has a strange contagious happiness that causes my worries and doubts to slip away. He rubs his hand through my hair making his way to my ears checking for ticks and mites since my ears are much different  from human ears. "Are you ok," He says we a worry filled smile and motions me to sit down, I obey as my feet have become numb after so many days of walking. He reaches into his shelves and pulls  out a kettle and a metal box of herbs and tea bags for homemade blends. "Go on love what happen? Why are you out in the woods at this hour?" I yawned in response of all their questions and simply said, "No disrespect Ezra but I'm exhausted and my feet are throbbing, I think the walking has caught up to me." He nods knowing what I mean. Ezra hands me a cup of tea and some cookies from a jar up in the cabinet. "Right I'm sorry. Let me help Finn out and I'll come back and run you a bath with herbs and salts to get you well rested and ready for tomorrow." He and Finn stepped to a hatch underneath the rug in Ezra's common quarters.  I took a few cookies sneaking them into my bag so that I can eat them later as well, they were ( favorite kind ) cookies and i couldn't resist the temptation to stuff my face. 

        Finn calls my name waving as he disappears into the hole and Ezra closes it back up and covers it again. "Alright now to get you all set, come with me up stairs." I follow behind slowly hating every step up those stairs but it was well worth it when I made it. He had a big circle tub surrounded in stone, it looked to be able to fit two people and the water come up pretty high. The twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling were different shades of blue purple and pink with a magical blue flamed candle hanging on the wall in a glass case. The tub was filled with steaming water and flower petals, the room smelled of pine and mint with citrus chopped up into slices and dropped into the water. Bubbles had covered the top of the water like snow and smelled like lavender and honey. His bathroom was pure happiness and love expressed in his home. "Now this bath should help your muscles not be sore in the morning and it should help you fall asleep tonight, I hate to ask but should I check you for ticks or scratch's anywhere on you?" I shrugged as my body was still covered in fur and it could be hiding anything but I was so self conscious about my body that I wouldn't dare ask for his help with this task. I point my head down and hugged myself as if to comfort myself. Ezra looked at me with kind eyes and hands me a towel, "Its ok if you aren't comfortable with it, just promise me you'll come and let me take any off for you. They carry lime disease and other things that can harm you!" as he goes to grab the handle to leave I grab his arm. I muster up all the courage I can and whispered, "Can you stay and help me Ezra?" He smiles and blushes slightly, wrapping me in a hug, "of course!" He closes the door and stays turned around as I take my clothes that I have on now off and grab the robe from the wall and cover myself. "Alright your ok to look now." I say in a small voice. "Alright I'm gonna start with your legs and work my way up and after your done you can use my cats flea shampoo to make sure everything is clean and gone. I nod my head agreeing and let him begin, he rubs his soft hands over my paw pads massaging as he goes looking for any bumps or imperfections. He comes across a tick that had made itself at home on my inner thigh , he poked and prodded at it for a few minutes but it was resistant to all his attempts. "You know fur is great but I just don't think I could do a full body of it." He laughs and I return his joke with a giggle of my own. "Would it be easier if there was no fur?" I ask searching his face for his reaction.  At first he looks confused and he seemed to be racking his brain for what I could be saying. "Well I'm certainly not going to shave you if that's what your asking." he smiles and we both laugh. I trusted Ezra I didn't sense any type of misjudgment or threat coming from this simple witch. 

     I began to shift into my human form and my leg grew smaller in his hand and the once thick course fur is now bare soft human skin. The robe that was a perfect fit before, is now hanging down off my shoulders. It draped around me like a sheet and Ezra had stayed quiet so far, only staring wide eyed and enchanted at the sight. My hair falls in front of my face as I smile at him, "Is that any better?" He's still not said a word so far, just staring at my face and rubbing my legs searching for the fur that was no longer there. "Now how did you do that? spell? hallucinations? Are you even a wolf?" He seems stunned and unsure of what to say, he did however have lots of questions some of which I could answer and others was searching for myself. We talked while taking the ticks that had made themselves at home on me off finally, burning them as he went. his hands glided over me like soap and his hands felt like heaven against my skin.  "I'm honestly stunned I didn't think of it before you told me, I remember in school they use to mention small things about dire wolves but they never dove into that chapter which I guess was because you guys were believed to have died out long ago. but behold!" he places some bubbles on my he'd and smiles so wide that his eyes look squinty. "your here1 So obviously the world didn't lose all of its beautiful one of a kind dire wolves." What a sweet happy minded guy, he seemed to only be able to see the silver lining and if he could see the other side of things then he hides his emotions very well. It didn't take much for the mud and dirt that was previously there to fall away into the soapy water. Ezra had gone to make himself a cup of tea and was waiting in his room for when I was done. My hair had been shampooed and I washed my body with the bar of soap sitting on the side of the tub. It was green and purple but see through, there was a small flower in the middle and there seemed to be small beads in the soap that came out as you washed. It smelled like roses and vanilla, the smell reminded me of Ezra. Soon I got out and dried myself off with the lavender towel Ezra had left behind, throwing the robe on and heading to where Ezra had said his room was. He had laid out a large t-shirt and a pair of women's shorts? I hadn't seen a women in here before and no-one had said anything about a wife or girlfriend ... maybe they were a friend of his, at least that's what I'm hoping. As soon as my head hit the soft feather pillow I drifted off into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of of cookies, flowers, and Ezra? oh, Finnigan as well. Seems I simply cant escape the happenings of tonight or the past. My memories slowly drift back to that little blonde haired girl I had loved once before.

(A/N) The picture at the top is of the characters mentioned in this from the game when the night comes. if you haven't read it You should defiantly take a look before you dive into this so that you can fall in love with the characters before reading other peoples interpretations of their personalities. I personally feel like I couldn't dream of reaching the level of dedication that the creator of the game had for their characters.

I also have a second chapter out on wattpad you can find it here.

https://my.w.tt/i2iNayX8mbb

#fanfictions #fanfic #finn x reader #ezra x reader #August x reader #Piper x reader #Alkar x reader #omen x reader #self insert #romance #witchcraft #Demons #humans #monsters #shapeshifting #female reader #ongoing #request #request open

[har-rison-s]

voulez-vous?

request: for the stranger things prompt: y/n is a French exchange student living with the hendersons and she falls for Steve when she’s playing a game with the group at game night and he walks in. Steve loves her accent.

A/N: Oh my goOoooOOooOod I've been aching to write Steve. Y'all, please send requests, I know you ST stans are thirsty now ;))) ANYWAY. Here's the lovely request, written out by me, tried my best :))) This is so cute. Sozzzz, I made the reader just as old as Steve, but hanging out with the gang since she's cool and they like her as well :)) Oh and they're playing Monopoly cause I'm stupid. Just like that. Sorry :D Look, I finished in one evening! Happy reading!

main masterlist

stranger things masterlist

no warnings! Pure fluff.

“You cheated!” 

“I did not! Those are the rules!”

“What? Your made-up ones?”

“It's clearly a cheat, Mike!”

“Lucas! I thought you were on my side!”

“On your side? Dude, we're on our own side. No teams! Just business.”

“Regardless, Mike, you cheated.”

“Y/N, what do you think we should do?”

The girl with dark half-braided hair looks up from her Monopoly cards with dead serious eyes and looks at all the teenage boys in order. She sighs, glances at her cards again and then at Mike Wheeler. 

“I say Michael should go to jail.” She says. Dustin smiles and grrrs. 

“I love the way she says jail.” He says and everyone gives him a death glare, except for Y/N. She smiles at the young boy. “Gail.” Dustin says the 'j' as an 'zh', imitating her french accent that appears in her almost every pronounciation.

“Yes, Dustin, we heard it the first hundred times.” Lucas says. “So Mike goes to jail? Like, Monopoly jail?”

“No, of course, the real jail. Let's call Hopper.” Dustin replies sarcastically in a monotone voice and Lucas sighs. 

“Okay. Mike goes to jail.” Will says and moves Mike's figurine over to the jail plat.

“Hey, dude! That was my thing to do.” Mike exclaims and Y/N sighs. 

“Mike, calm down.” The girl says, her tone calm, as always. Michael turns to her and the french girl grips his hand. 

“Dustin, why is there a hippie in your house?” Mike asks, turning back away from Y/N. 

“Mike, she's an exchange student, and you've already met her. Y/N will be staying with me and mom for a few months.” Dustin says while his hands are occupied with switching cards to money and money to little house figures. He's already told Mike about Y/N staying with them before, but his friend doesn't seem to listen.

“Five months.” Y/N corrects. 

“She says four just like I do!” Dustin cheers and him and Y/N both laugh. 

“I like her here. Keeps the mood a bit better.” Will says.

“Merci, Will.” Y/N thanks him, smiling at the boy. He smiles back.

“Yeah, Mike, Y/N is pretty cool. She told us all about France while you were out with Eleven.” Lucas joins in, mocking the last word he spoke. Mike rolls his eyes. 

“It's love, Lucas.” Y/N says to the boy and they both giggle.

Mike only looks at the two. “I'm not saying you're not cool,” he starts to say and throws his dice after Y/N finished making her move, “You're just different.”

“Eleven is different, too.” Will points out. 

“Yeah, but...” Mike doesn't get to finish.

“She is your girlfriend, I know.” Y/N says. “I do not want to join your party, don't worry, Michael. You guys are very cool and I'm excited to spend the summer with you all, as well. I just... come from a different culture.”

“Her accent's so cool.” Will says and Lucas agrees. 

“So what's the Arcades like in France?” Mike asks, realising maybe the girl's not so bad after all. She may be older than them for four of five years, and hanging out with kids might be lame for someone like her, but she's cool like them. Y/N likes comics and science, and it was a big surprise for the party. She watches movies and reads books, surprisingly doesn't go to parties. At least not that often. So, after evaluating all that, Mike has realised there's no harm in spending time with her.

“Just like yours is.” Y/N drops a potato chip in her mouth. “Only cheaper. Well, actually depends on the city's district, but cheaper, still.”

“What? Like ten pennies?”

“No, 50 cents. Euro cents.”

“Oh.” Mike responds.

“What do they look like?” Will asks.

“I will show you later.” Y/N says and makes her move again. The boys nod and turn back to the game, but then all raise their heads when someone walks through the door. The teens are anxious, having watched too many thrillers and horror movies to think that a friend could be walking in.

“Hey, dipshits.” Steve Harrington says once he's closed the door and everyone's breathed a sigh of relief. Except Y/N. She wasn't scared of a monster coming through the door, but she is certainly now anxious because such a handsome boy walked in, she's almost stopped breathing.

“Magnifiquement...” she whispers to herself. Steve looks down at her. 

“Who's this girl?” There's a smile on his face. 

“Oh, hi Steve.” Dustin says. 

“Don't get him started.” Mike rolls his eyes and Will pokes his shoulder. 

“This is Y/N. She's an exchange student, and she'll be staying with me for—”

“Five months.” Y/N finishes Dustin's sentence. She sticks her hand out for Steve to shake, which he does, after walking over to her. “Y/N.”

“Steve Harrington.” He says, smiling. 

“Is it spelled h-a-i-r-i-n-g-t-o-n?” She asks, looking between his eyes and his enermous mountain of hair on his head. Everyone laughs, and Steve only blushes in slight embarrassment. Y/N smiles. He looks like the boy of her dreams with that crimson blush and little smile. Enchanté.

“Unfortunately, no.” Steve says. “But I can always change it, illegally, of course.” He adds, and Y/N chuckles. 

“What did you want, Steve?” Lucas asks, making a move with his cards. 

“Well, I wanted to say something in French, but I don't know shit in it,” Steve makes a funny face, “but initially I wanted to ask you to write recommendations for me for my CV.”

“Us?” Will asks, laughing.

“Kids, man, we're kids,” Lucas says.

“What would we ever write in there?” Mike squints at him. Steve raises his eyebrows and eyes all four kids, trying to give them eyes for something they should understand. Y/N is silent, not understanding what's happening, and then the boys get it.

“Oh.” They all say in unison, realising what Steve was badly hinting at. “Oh, yeah, sure.” “We'll do it later.” “Sure, man.” “You got yourself a deal.”

Steve nods. “So, uh,” he moves back and forth on his feet, “can I... join you guys?” The adolescent finally asks. 

“Well, we're already playing a game,” Mike starts, a look of 'unlikely' on his face.

“But if you're willing to wait, you can join us in the next game.” Dustin suggests, nodding.

“Voulez-vous...” Y/N looks at Steve, and he looks at her. Oh, God, she's melting already. “Sit next to me?”

“Oh, I know what that means!” Steve exclaims. “It's from that ABBA song. It means - 'would you like to'? 'Or do you want to', right?” He's ecstatic.

Y/N nods. 

“I would gladly sit next to you.” He says. “I'd love to say it in French, but I don't know how to.” He admits. Steve excitedly sits down next to the mysterious french girl.

“Je veux m'asseoir à côté de toi.” Y/N says. “Or something like that.” She adds and smiles. Steve smiles as well. 

“That will take time.” He states, and crosses his legs, tying his hands over his knees and looking at Y/N. He's suddenly eager to talk to her, get to know her. And more so, hear her sexy as hell accent again. 

Permanent taglist: @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @one-taylor-one-vision@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @fvckyeahbenhardy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @mrsmazzello @benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @lundqvistisgod​

#stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington request #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #the party x reader #mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson

[honeyhan-123]

Say Thank You IV

Series Summary: Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Series Warning: This will be a dark!Steve fic with stalking, kidnapping and manipulating as well as non-con and dub-con situations. Please don’t read it if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Chapter Warning: Kidnapping and drugging. 

Word Count: 1.9k

I. New York II. Madrid III. The Apartment

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

IV. The Trip

‘So Stevie, where’d you disappear off to last night? I thought you said you were headed back to the hideout but you didn’t get back ‘till what? Two in the morning?’ Bucky looked to Nat as though asking her for confirmation about Steve’s night time practices over breakfast the next morning. 

‘Nah Buck, I reckon it was more like three when he finally came in.’ The red head locked eyes with Bucky over her coffee mug. ‘I mean, if I didn’t know better, I’d wanna say Steve was out at some booty call’s last night coming in at that time. I know I always like to get a fix after a mission.’ 

Steve could feel the blood start to rush to his face as he tried to remain passive in front of the two super spies. He wasn’t ready to tell them about her just yet, they would try to convince him to change his mind but it was too late. Preparations had already started. Instead he lied, despite knowing what a dangerous game it was to lie to highly trained spies, yet he thought he might be able to swing it.  ‘God Nat, I can’t believe you would even say that. I was just out at a little bar down the street, getting a drink.’ 

Steve thanked the powers at be as Nat’s phone started ringing, signalling their conversation had come to an end. 

‘Oh wow. Thanks for the invite Rogers.’ She rolled her eyes as her finger swiped across the screen and hit the speaker button, letting Sam’s voice fill the room. ‘Hey Bird Brain, how’s it going in Sokovia?’ 

‘Yeah we’re good here. Just calling to let you guys know that Chekhov is on the move, we think he’s headed up to a facility in the north, it seems to be pretty heavily guarded. Wouldn’t mind some assistance with this one, it looks kind of intense.’

‘Yeah sure, we’ll be there in the morning, we just finished up with Alejandro last night so we’re good to move out.’ 

‘Actually Nat, I think we should stay here for a little longer, or at least one of us. We want to make sure all of Alejandro’s men are gone.’ Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s as the latter spoke, and he knew he hadn’t even remotely fooled his best friend, Bucky clearly realised something was up with him but he also knew that Bucky wouldn’t push him, not if he wasn’t ready to share. 

‘Yeah I think that’s a good idea Buck, we really don’t want any of these guys hanging around. How ‘bout you and Nat catch a flight up to Sokovia tomorrow and I’ll meet you there or back in New York after I make sure it’s all clear down here.’ Steve was quick to set his plan in motion, grateful that the others pretty much always agreed to whatever plan he came up with, this way he would be able to easily extract y/n using the quinjet instead of picking her up from the airport in New York and have to deal with bystanders maybe getting in the way. 

‘Sounds good to me. Wanda and I probably don’t need all three of you anyway, I don’t think Chekhov will be too hard. I’ll probably just see you back in New York Cap. Stay safe guys and see you tomorrow.’ Sam signed off the call and Nat put her phone back in her pocket. 

‘Well Barnes, looks like we got some packing to do.’

+

The week passed far too slowly for Steve’s liking, every minute felt like hours and the hours felt like days. Anticipation flooded through him every time he caught sight of you, he just couldn’t wait to have you back at his house in New York, back at his mercy. 

The only upside of the week was he now had more time to watch you. In the mornings he would accompany you on your morning jogs, following slightly behind, appreciating the way your ass jiggled with every step and then sneak into your apartment while you were showering, learning everything he could about you from your living space. Then, he would head back to his hideout and have a shower of his own, his cock in his fist, dreaming about what would happen in mere days as he came, his seed spraying over the tiled walls of the shower, slowly sliding down before pooled at his feet as it disappeared down the drain, his breaths shallow and frequent as he came back after his orgasm. 

Post shower he would spend his days at the cantina, following you with his eyes as you served the customers. It seemed you were working more than normal and he figured it was probably to make up for your trip away, to cover your expenses as he had overheard a conversation between you and the elderly woman who owned the cantina. It was cute, watching your fret over finances while he knew that soon you wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than minding your manners around him. 

He tried to get your attention whenever he could, coming up with reasons to talk to you but due to the air conditioning and the promise of a refreshing drink the cantina was often packed, filled with tourists and locals alike, trying to refute the summer heat, meaning that you often had little time for him, once again filling Steve with memories of double dates with Bucky back in the forties. Of trying to get their attention which was always focussed on Bucky instead of scrawny little Steve. But soon enough, he promised himself, you would be all his. Real Soon.

+

The days passed slowly for you too, despite you being so busy with work and preparing everything for your trip but finally, at last, it was your last day working at the cantina - for the meantime at least. 

‘I’m sorry Señor, but we’re closing soon, can I get you anything before we stop taking orders?’ You asked the strange American who had been coming to the cantina everyday recently. You frequently wondered why he was in Madrid if all he was going to do was sit in the cantina but he tipped well and was nice enough to look at if you had a moment in between customers. 

‘Trust me Sweetheart, there’s a lot I want from you but for now I’ll just take another Americano thanks.’ A chill crept down your spine at his sinister smile, although he may be attractive there was something wrong about this man and you barely managed to smile back as you walked away, the hairs on your neck standing up. 

You avoided the American as best you could for the next half hour before the cantina closed, but being the only one still working made it hard as you still had to serve him. Thankfully, the clock hit ten and you managed to kick him out quite easily except for his promise to ‘come back soon’. You made sure to lock the door behind him, looking out into the night as he walked down the street. There was definitely something wrong about that man, but at least you wouldn’t have to worry about it for the next two weeks. 

You made your way to the back of the shop, most of the cleaning already done as you waited for the man to be finished with his coffee. Knocking on the door to Mariana’s office, you entered slowly, finding her simply reading some book. 

‘Mariana? I just wanted to come say goodbye before my flight tomorrow, it’s pretty early and I don’t think I’ll see you before I leave.’

She smiled and walked around her desk, wrapping her arms around you. ‘Querida, I’m so glad that you’re going through with this. I think it will be very good for you, going back to New York. I only ask that you send me a postcard, something touristy.’

You laughed into her shoulder, not wanting to break away from the biggest maternal figure you knew. ‘Anything for you Mariana.’ 

‘Be careful querida.’

‘Always am Mariana, don’t you worry about me.’ With one last smile you left her office, heading upstairs to your apartment. 

As you unlocked the door and made your way through the small loft, your mind was so busy running through a last minute checklist for everything you still had to do that you didn’t notice that the window you had locked that morning was now open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. You also didn’t notice the figure waiting for you in your bedroom, hiding in the shadows until his arms were wrapped around you in a vice like grip, one hand covering your mouth as the other held something against your neck. There was a soft prick, and slowly you felt your eyes getting heavier, closing on their own and the whole room faded to blackness. 

+

You slept so peacefully on the quinjet as he flew you over the Atlantic that Steve almost never wanted you to wake up. He knew that it would be a while before you were this calm in his presence again but he could wait. He was a patient man after all. He landed the quinjet just outside of the city, somewhere hidden where it wouldn’t be found and gave you another shot of sedative before transferring you to Natasha’s car. If he had known that he would see you again in Madrid he wouldn’t have ridden his bike out to the landing pad. 

It was a real pain being on the run from every government, it meant doing their job was becoming increasingly hard but the team - or what remained of it - never complained, they each stood by their choice to help Steve against Tony. Ironically enough the best place for them to hide at the moment was actually in New York, one of the biggest cities in the world and the last place Ross would think to look for them, plus if he ever did, Tony always covered for them, claiming a fake sighting in another country, because while he was still hurt but Steve and the other and wasn’t quite ready to forgive them, they were still his family and he would never turn them over like that. 

When he finally made his way back through the city, back to his brownstone in Brooklyn, Steve was kind of shocked that he had actually managed it, he had actually gotten you, right where he wanted you. A smile came over his face as he carried you down to the basement, the modifications he had requested had been made perfectly while he was away. While the room had always been a guest bedroom, he had to make sure that you wouldn’t be able to escape and that he could always watch you, especially in the first few weeks. The new thick, metal door would be enough to keep even him trapped down here and if he didn’t know exactly where to look, the security cameras were almost undetectable. He lay you on the bed, tucking you in, under the soft light grey covers, and pressed a kiss to your forehead before walking away and locking the door behind him. As much as he wanted to stay and watch you all night, there was still a lot he had to do before you woke up.

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

V. The Basement 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

#say thank you #saythankyou #steve x reader #steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark mcu #mcu imagine #mcuseries #mcu #dark verse #honeyhanwrites #capatin america #captain america x reader #captain america

[thatssonano]

Hey, remember the research paper about why TV fails to represent female muslims? Well here it is.

Hey guys,

So I'm finally gonna try to write a real little thing about how TV fails to write muslim women. I thought about doing a real research paper and I wrote the introduction and got really anxious because it reminded of my very stressful master degree lol so this is much more simple. Anyways, let's get to it. 

As a kid, I was very hungry for representation on TV. Mostly because I had no models, no one to identify with. As a very introvert and self-conscious kid, I didn't know what to be or what to do. At some point, I started looking up to my sister, very beautiful, very intelligent and very ambitious girl. So I thought "I ought to be like that, that's what a muslim girl like me should be like.” 

Thing is, I wasn't as smart as she was, my grades were not as good, I wasn't as pretty or as popular at school, and there was not a single box I could fit in. I ended up being the "weird but nice little sister". But I was so invisible everyone would nickname me "Sarah 2" (my sister's name being Sarah.) And you know what? For the first time, I felt like I existed. Because I was "the little sister". Dude, how sad is that?

I was too white for them, not muslim enough, too weird for them. So obviously, it was tough to pave a way for myself when I was the only girl like me. 

The first time I was finally not nicknamed was when I got into college at the age of 17. Only because we didn't choose the same college. And I understood I didn't have to be as smart or as ambitious as her, I understood that I didn't have to get the life she had when I was 22. 22, guys. 

I'm turning 26 in one month. And I chose my own life. But God, how much time it took me to realize that there wasn't only one type of "the muslim girl"? 22 years.  

I'm not saying that to share about my life or whatever, I just want to show the consequences of not having representation on TV. And for sure, many people don't care about representation, my sister doesn't, my brother doesn't. But I do. Maybe that's because I'm hypersensitive, maybe that's because I believe art should mirror reality. All I know is that it's necessary for many. 

I met Sana Bakkoush on a random fan video about several fictional couples on youtube. I didn't know Skam then but there was this second in the video where I would see Noora and William staring at each other or whatever, and there was this beautiful hijabi girl in the back. I had to know what this show was about. So I did my research and binge-watched it. With much luck, I got to the end of the whole show before episode 3 of season 4 came out. So I learnt to grow with Sana, I fell in love with her, and I just felt like I could understand her. I was her. I finally was validated with her. Up until episode 5, all was well. And then,… it just broke? Still today, I'm trying to understand how they could let that happen and I guess there's one obvious reason. The writing staff was white. Julie Andem is white. And to me, if you're not from that community, you should not try to write about this one. 

As the plot thickened, you could feel like it was unbalanced, incoherent, and that many things didn't make sense. But that's pretty normal, because if you don't live the problem, you can't understand. Now I won't curse Julie Andem for not trying, but I guess what should have been done was to hire a muslim writer. And God, people can't tell me it's too tough to find. Even if it was not Iman Meskini's job, she could have asked her. God, this girl taught more about ramadan through her ig story than Skam ever did. 

Now I'm not saying she didn't do us all dirty when she gave us 9 episodes instead of ten and it all broke us on June 17th 2017 (Yep, this day is a national holiday now). And honestly, I've got not one good explanation for this except they didn't feel her story was that important. Unconsciously, I hope, because it would be too evil otherwise.

The reason, to me, that Sana was so many people's favorite character was because Iman Meskini gave her so much realness. Sana was strong yet vulnerable. Everyone, muslims like non-muslims could understand her, and I think she inspired so many people. Her life is amazing, and she's what now? 22. I really hope she gets a Nobel Prize in the future, she deserves it. 

Now let's talk about the others. I think it'd be a bit faster. 

Imane Bakhellal. Uhm. Well the main issue is the same, she was written by a white man. So obviously, it was 1. wrong. 2. wrong. 3. wrong. The story barely focused on her faith and whenever we'd see her pray she'd be interrupted. Look, I've been praying for 13 years and the only times I've interrupted my prayer were because I had just realized I had not done wudhu. Or I was too jet-lagged so I was praying in the wrong direction.  

Thing is, Imane didn't make me feel anything. And it was even sadder, because I am a muslim living in Paris. To me, her story wasn't focused on her, it wasn't even focused on religion or her struggle living between two cultures. I didn't learn a thing. And God, that hurt. That hurt even more when the director didn't acknowledge it was poorly written and was actually proud of it. It hurt that white people get the right to write our story and we're there, not having any voice. It sucked. But I guess, she had ten episodes, right, even if the last episode was within the same day. 

It didn't really bother me that she kissed him. The speech she recited did though. I got really frustrated about it. How hard would it be to find a muslim writer? Honestly, I would have been glad to join them, even as a volunteer. 

I'm not actually mad at the actress, I guess it was just a reflection of her relationship with islam. And I know many people got the representation they wanted, but to me, it remains poorly written. To me, it remains hypocrite because they don't get it. Being a muslim woman of color in France sucks sometimes. But having at least her story focused on her would have been great too. 

 Ok, let's move on. 

Amira Mahmood. I love her a little less than Sana, but I mean come on, that's understandable, right?

Amira is strong, she's beautiful, kind, smart. And her season was going well, until it wasn't anymore…. Because, well, it ended. I keep on wondering why it happened and I came with no logical answer. So maybe it was lazy writing, maybe it didn't matter to them, maybe the writers were just tired. I don't know, honestly, I don't know. But it pissed me off bad. (Honestly it was the third character I was let down on, lol, it started to be a lot to handle). Also, the other seasons were so greatly written, they had depth and understanding, it was soft and beautiful. And to me, season 4 just felt… lazy? Sure, I loved Mohammed but the Australia plot wasn't even that important it actually got fixed over text? And how hard would it be to find exciting plot for a muslim character? What? Everything should be about kissing, hair and sex? Well, no. I mean, I would have loved to see her actually working, I would have loved to see her actually bonding with her dad, I would have loved to see her at a boxing game… The summer and fall after I graduated high school was a very hard time to me, mostly because it was a time of discovery and transition. Everything was changing. God, they should have explored that more. So I don't know, I just felt detached then, and I think that's more sad, actually.

But I do believe the actress did a great job, and I wish Tua all success. 

Shall I give a little paragraph on Nadia from Elite? Hell yeah I'm going to. Well, the show is focused on sex so, I mean, are we even surprised the writers did this to Nadia? Not really, but we're still mad. Again, it was written by white people; who focused on all the stereotypes people spread about muslims. The strict dad? Check. The very quiet and invisible mom at the mercy of the dad? Check. The muslim girl who does not actually know why she's religious and only follows her parents' footsteps like a sheep because islam is just way too strict so no one in their sane mind would ever venture in such a religion? Check. The hunger for having white friends and doing the same? Check. Falling for a white guy and giving up everything she ever "believed" for him? Check. I hope the writers heard about what people had to say about it. 

Honestly, I know some would say "there are muslim girls like this". Well, ok. But what about us? We've been invisible to society for years and years. I grew up without having a single fucking idea about who I was and I just always felt like I was the odd one out. Too white, too Algerian, too muslim, too girly, too boyish, too into traditions, following too much her parents' rules… Well, growing up I just decided, I will never be enough of something, because I’m a little of everything. So yeah, some muslim girls do that, but some others don't. And we want to see these girls too. We want to normalize their way of life, so they can just live. And we want them to have the same screen time than the rest of the cast. And we want them to have exciting plots too. 

God, I've been smothered by the fucking veil debate in France for weeks and weeks and I couldn't breathe anymore. That's why we need visibility. To be acknowledged. To erase ignorance and hate. To create a homogenous society in this globalized world where everyone is different and it is okay. Because as long as your liberty isn't in danger, then the other can live as he wills. 

To finish I guess some of you would be like “if you’re so eager to criticize the work of others, just write your own story” Well I did. I actually finished one scenario in French and I have just started one in English. But how can I actually make it into reality if I don’t know anyone in the business bold enough to work with me on it? 

Honestly if you've read all of that, congratulations, thank you so much, love you all, peace out. 

I didn’t write everything I wanted but I believe it’s long enough already lol. Be safe, well and kind. (that’s what Bob Morley says and he’s a king).

#love #islam #muslim representation #skams #Skam #Druck #skam fr #elite #nadia shanaa #amira thalia mahmood #sana bakkoush #imane bakhellal

[ayakashiramblings]

Twilight: Breaking Dawn and Relationships

Once again... I am sorry Gaku.

Prologue

For the love of the gods, you had just wanted to bond. Sure, you could have stuck to food but one of your comrades was finally at the legal drinking age. You just HAD to celebrate that.

So you had turned to a rather sketchy magazine and everyone said they were down to do whatever the activity was on the first page. 

Eventually, the page was burned. And you shall find out why. 

To give them credit, they were good sports about it and even drew up a chart. 

It was the Dawn Faction against the Twilight Faction, with each member of one of the factions having to compete with their counterparts in the other group.

The pairs arranged are listed before, couple with cute, loving annotations like ‘ogre-face’, ‘furry’ and ‘choker’.

Koga and Toichiro

Kuya and Shizuki 

Ginnojo and Kuro

Aoi and Oji

Yura and Gaku

MC as the regulator

Chaos and Pain

Koga Kitamikado

Ah, the budding entrepreneur, making great strides in the scary new world thanks to his smart decisions.

A truly educated and learned person.

So of course, he wisely chose… to do a dare. 

Mad man.  

Even madder, he knew it was Toichiro’s turn.

He couldn’t help it, he liked things to be unpredictable. All kitsunes were masters of that.

Also, it was he who started this whole game.

“Ok, I dare you… to watch.”

“... To watch?”

“Yes. For five minutes specifically.”

“Watch MC make out with Kuya.”

Toichiro lost half of his tail with a swift swing of a sword and his fur was all ruffled from that blast of wind before MC could stop them. 

So of course, MC had to do the smart thing. 

“Fine, I will. Aoi, prepare.”

“WHAT?!” 

Kuya was becoming unusually pale and at least now we know Koga is a red oni.

At least Koga’s exclamation was muffled as MC shoved a piece of paper to his face. 

It was only when Koga became cross-eyed did he realize that it was one of Aoi’s pieces... specifically a chibi sketch of Kuya sleeping on a tree branch.

And MC was... aggressively kissing the paper. 

The pressure of her lips still felt even through the paper on Koga’s face.

Damn, it could have been on fire.

The paper and his face. 

Toichiro lets it go because everyone is getting uncomfortable with all the action happening and, OMG MC are you trying to slip in your tongue? 

DID KOGA JUST TEAR THE PAPER WITH HIS TEETH?!

Aoi is sad that one of his hand-drawn chibis is now in bits and pieces. 

At least it was only Kuya.

Kuya

To be fair, he thought he was safe because the one asking was Shizuki. 

What he didn’t know was that not only was Shizuki ordered to, the snow spirit had imbibed in some alcohol.

“Kuya, I want you to write…”

“Why did you ask for the impossible?” 

As Shizuki waved away the Satori Seer, Kuya was unusually the first to offer comfort. What was usual was the ‘wisdom’ it possessed,

“It's OK Aoi, I have a story. It's about an American treasurer who got lost in history until his wife who he cheated on…”

“Here is the catch. I want you to write… a lemon on your LEAST favourite ayakashi that you’ve recently met with your most favourite person here.”

“Hmm… so Kagemaru and MC.”

“What the hell, Kuya?”

‘L’ is for Loser Kagemaru.

‘E’ is for Every time MC beats him, I smile.

‘M’ is for Masochist because Kagemaru is weak for strong girls.

‘O’ is for when Other Onmyoji Boy drags away his contract.

‘N’ is for Not gonna lie, it was beautiful.

Unlike Toichiro though, Shizuki doesn’t want to give up without a fight. 

So poor Kuya gets trapped in a snow blanket until the kitsune and the rest of the Twilight gang restrains the mad snow spirit. 

Oh well, at least he can sleep.

After Koga finishes digging him out of there.

Ginnojo

By now, the wise grandpa had witnessed the dangers of taking on dares, unlike SOME people.

“I’ll take the truth.”

“Gin-Gin, this isn’t you pursuing truth and justice.”

“I know and frankly, with the way things are going, maybe not now. Corruption runs too deep.”

I mean... he’s not wrong. Kuro slightly pouts at having been seen through.

“Ok, now tell me what part of MC do you think you can touch without blushing?”

...

Nevermind, he would rather live a lie. 

It’s just that Kuro, ever-the-summer-child is great at giving the purest thing in the world. 

Puppy-dog eyes. 

There is no way he can lie now so, ironically with his face practically beet-red, confesses, 

“Her kimono. Specifically the sleeve.”

“Hehe, so that’s what you...”

“Specifically the third thread.”

“Weird flex but ok...”

“Specifically the third thread’s middle and it has to be the blue one.”

Again, the Twilight sect has to show mercy to their elderly citizens.

MC offers him her sleeve, even slightly pulling out the thread and now Ginnojo can smile, albeit bashfully.

Aoi

He stares at Oji like an office camera. 

What was the lesser of two evils? Truth, and who knows what Oji might ask. Dare, and…well…he could only imagine what his employer’s mind could think, but at least he knew Oji wouldn't propose anything life-threatening. 

Just utterly mortifying like that one time Oji had dropped him off at school...

“Hehe, don’t worry, I won’t ask you to do anything extreme.”

“I’d rather you ask anything extreme. Truth.”

For some reason, Oji smirked, as if that was the right choice for his plan and the wrong one for Aoi’s last shred of dignity.

“Ok, gimme a second...”

Everybody freaked out when Oji decided to let the eye in the middle of his forehead appear and bulge out.

“It’s my lie-detecting eye.”

Yes, everyone. He has one. Not that he thinks his own son would lie. 

Aoi is tempted to punch it away but he couldn’t let the rest of his comrades down after all they’ve done.

“Is there something you've seen in a steamy movie that you'd like to try?”

Great, and now it would look bad if he couldn’t name any or chose the wrong one to highlight. 

So like the pure baby virgin that he is, announces, 

“The ribbons.”

MC tries giving him her hair ribbon but he smacks it away with the brightest blush she has ever seen on his face. 

Smacks the eye as well that just turns green to show that he is telling the truth.

Yura

“My wise brother will never do such foolish acts like choosing...”

“I pick truth!”

... Gaku is tired. He already knows how kinky his brother is.

Don’t ask me how he knows. 

Anyways, Gaku has to think for a moment. He doesn’t want to put his brother in a bad light but he still has to keep the risque nature of the game.

So, he finally settles for asking, “Ever put something weird in your body?”

There, the most ambiguous question that ANYONE could take an innocent perspective on...

“Why, I once indulge in cream whipped to fluffy peaks with Sir Kuya. We poured it over our chests...”

Kuya tries to protest in his frozen chamber but it’s too late. 

“And made-believed that we were Oji’s pecs he thinks he can expose but truthfully fails.”

Now, to Yura’s horror, Kuya is further pressed against the floor and Koga is still struggling to dig him out. 

Interlude

“We’re killing them.” announced the Dawn faction. 

MC has officially died and wonders about calling Akiyasu up just so that her Ayakashi would fight together against him instead of each other. 

Even Kagemaru somehow offers her his commiserations as Yuzuru the beautiful geisha who had only arrived to deliver some beer. 

Stumbles into this mess and stumbles out.

And now, it’s time for the Twilight gang.

Toichiro Yuri

Sweet revenge for Koga. 

“I want you to kiss Shizuki DIRECTLY, LIPS TO LIPS.”

At first, he was fine. It was just making out. Sure, he might vomit into his valet’s mouth but at least that could be cleaned up. 

Plus, at least Shizuki should be a good kisser with all the ladies he has charmed into his life.

... Until Toichiro had realized.

“Why... is the rest of the kitsune clan here?”

Many small foxes were loping in their direction, some already in their more humanoid form. All had one goal. 

“GREETINGS MASTER TOICHIRO!”

“Sir Koga said that there was a huge bash with inari sushi!”

As Koga tosses a few fried tofu pieces at the rabid crowd, Toichiro’s eyes turned briefly feral.

“... I hate you. When this is over, I’ll- mmph!”

Shizuki decides to land a big wet one on him. 

Today was the day Toichiro learnt that no, Shizuki was a bad kisser. drunk at least.

There was an unexpected twist when one of the clan members cried with joy.

“FINALLY! MY SHIP HAS SET SAIL!”

Shizuki

Can we just marvel at the fact he is actually playing though for just a second? 

We all know the other stoic man Ginnojo is actually curious about new games.

But to get Shizuki to play instead of just serving some drinks and cordials?

That is no ordinary accomplishment.

And all we have to thank for this marvellous sight is... alcohol. 

Oji-san, why?

“Tell us how you orgasm.”

Kuya, why?

Except... Shizuki doesn’t bat an eyelid. In fact, he even throws a wolfish grin in.

“Only before my girl because she is too good.”

“But I make sure hers comes harder.”

“And she will scream.”

...

Kuya lost and just burrows himself into the snow hole Koga had spent hours digging.

Oji

At this point, Aoi is becoming like the past self you had only seen once. 

An absolute discipline master. 

Oji thinks he can get away because Aoi is way too shy to ask him to do anything THAT scandalous. 

For some with 100 eyes, the old man sure is blind.

With a smirk and almost evil, ominous tendrils of his bad aura flooding the room, he asks Oji,

“Well, I think you must have been a verrry bad boy in school.”

For the next round, Aoi makes Oji have a time out on someone’s lap.

Specifically Shizuki. 

“You are so grounded after this.”

“Don’t you mean, time out, Mister?”

Aoi has no regrets.... especially since he managed to sketch it, caricature style.

Kuro

“I’m going to go with truth because I have a feeling the dare is the opposite of touching ironically.”

Wise choice, Kuro.

The problem is... he’s forgetting that Ginnojo was a soldier.

For a major force in the Edo period.

And he has seen Aoi grilling everyone while at the Milk Hall. 

If he doesn’t know what questions will break a person, I don’t know what to say.

“So... Kuro, does your Ayakashi species know how to lap dance? If not, what are their attractive features?”

“Oh, Gin-Gin. Why did you go to the dark side?”

“Because you hate the dark. Also, I took out something from the military.”

He darted out of the room, returning with a fairly large device. 

Ginnojo set it up directly in front of Kuro, tapping a microphone positioned in front of him. Several lights on the device blinked, and a paper readout steadily fed out a long sheet of steady wavy lines. 

“This is a lie detector, the less freaky version. I’ve got Gaku making one based on your heart rate.”

Ok, I don’t think the lie detector was invented by then but let’s go along with it, ok? 

“Erm... not really. I guess... we hug a lot?”

The lie detector machine broke. Now nobody knows. 

Until 1921.  

Gaku

Dare because there is obviously something he can FINALLY do for his brother.

Picking truth would have been anti-climatic because the twins know each other too well.

“I want a customized sex toy that vibrates.”

Specifically to the theme song of the game.

Gaku decides at that very moment to never let Yura near his notes ever again. 

Because now he has to refer to his original blueprints... except he doesn’t actually have a notebook on this. 

FOR OBVIOUS REASONS.

Actually has to sketch it out.

He refuses to look at the anatomical books he has even though there is literally a shelf dedicated for them.

So... yes, he’s drawing based on what he’s seen.

“So, are you basing it off yours because it’s awfully average...”

“OF COURSE A DICK LIKE YOU WOULD KNOW!”

Epilogue

Aoi has decided he is going to stay away from alcohol.

MC didn’t even moderate the game. She just watched the chaos unfold. And the article burn.

#ayakashi romance reborn #arr #ayakashi rr #AyakashiRR #Ayakashi: Romance Reborn #ayakashi aoi #ayakashi yura #ayakashi toichiro #ayakashi koi meguri #ayakashi kuro #ayakashi kuya #ayakashi koga #koga kitamikado #arr koga #arr aoi #arr yura #arr toichiro #arr shizuki #shizuki #ayakashi shizuki #voltage inc #arr oji #ayakashi oji #voltage headcanon

[justlightthefirstspark]

As promised, my analysis/opinion/thought piece on today’s MUWFC game vs Spurs. Everything is chronological which I feel like should go without saying but in the interest of clarity 🤷🏽‍♀️ but not everything is tagged to the minute cause I am an idiot that didn’t realise that that would be helpful til like the 2nd half. Also, if I missed anything, or got players mixed up or anything pls lemme know and I’ll edit accordingly! I’ve never really done any from of sports based writing before (I don’t think tweets count lol) so pls be nice, merci 😘

Line up as follows, I guess this is pretty common knowledge but you know, coherency and such.

Tbh it was kinda hard to see *a lot* of this game, especially on the far side of the pitch and by both goals because of the weather, felt like I was watching Silent Hill for a little while there, but I did my best. My wifi is also horrendous atm, and we all know that the FA Player can be problematic so there’s a very good chance I might have missed something due to a lag or buffering btw. Just drop me an ask if you notice anything that mightn’t be quite right, and I’ll fix it asap! Some ~analysis~ (if you could call it that lol) is more detailed than other bits cause there was a lot happening and today I learned that it’s kinda hard to write one thing and watch another at the same time lol

First half:

Quick, fast and almost successful start. A much-needed improvement on the stagnancy vs Bristol a few weeks ago, and obviously we couldn’t see the midweek game vs Brighton so I can’t compare them.

I have to say I’m not a massive fan of all the back passes, all the time. I think a more attacking FB might be needed in the summer, or maybe Ökvist should be given some time to acclimatise to the WSL soon? I was never the biggest fan of Harris last season, I personally don’t think she’s fast enough – she gets outpaced down the flank by attackers 90% of the time, which isn’t good. I think A. Turner is the strongest FB option currently, at least defensively, and she’s shown she has a decent attacking ability, and has a wicked long ball, as well as crossing. My only issue is sometimes those tackles of hers can be a liability, giving away unnecessary fouls. It’s almost like she doesn’t think before she flies in sometimes, which is a shame, cause I love them. A lot.

There were a couple of really good chances in the first half, including a great ball in and run up from Galton, which should have resulted in probably the opening goal but whether it was as a result of the weather or just misjudged timing and placement from both Ross and Sigsworth, the chance went to waste. Groenen had an excellent chance to net her first for United but unfortunately sent it just wide. Another glorious link up between A. Turner and Galton led to another decent chance, a gorgeous cross in from the right to the opposite side of the box, and the perfect header which unfortunately was aimed straight at the keeper. Very unlucky to head in at the break with nothing.

There was an incredible double save from Earps around halfway through the first half. I have to say, I have some anxieties with her sometimes. She is quite good, but has a tendency to make some silly mistakes, and doesn’t always make the right call for a save. But my god she was on her game today, even if a potential error might have led to the first save. Didn’t disappoint me anytime she was called on this afternoon.

A few frustrations started to show around the 30 min mark, a few sloppy passes and challenges making the rounds. It was also around this time that I realized I’d picked a pretty poor game to start this thing on because I could barely see anything.

Zelem seems to be back in form, which can only be a good thing. But I would very much like it if somehow she could drag some of the other girls back up with her.

There were a fair few soft calls going Spurs way, which I wasn’t entirely convinced by. But then again I’m probably just naturally biased towards my girls.

Another great ball in to Sigsworth from A. Turner which was just *chefs kiss* but unfortunately came to nothing. There was also a spin move either to commit or avoid a challenge, I couldn’t really tell tbh, which was very impressive, as was her chase down on Mitchell at around 43 mins. (Amy’s my favourite player, can you tell?)

Booking for Kirsty Smith just before half time, but I gotta be honest I couldn’t see it due to the fog, so I have no idea what happened. Couldn’t find anything about it in the United post-match report either so apparently we’re just deleting that from the history of the earth which is completely fine by me to be honest.

Second half:

My main takeaway from this game is that both Sigsworth and Ross always seem to be looking for the same ball in the penalty area, and there very rarely seems to be anybody else around looking for a potential rebound. I think that James (who missed today’s game due to suspension) seems to be our main (only?) front line creator and finisher; Sigsworth is fine, that girl works like a dog and always gets the job done, I think she may have just needed another goal to boost her confidence, but I have no real concerns with her. Ross, however, I’m not entirely convinced by, I think a lot of her finishes have been a bit lucky and flukey so far. I’d start Toone over her for the rest of the season to be honest, Ross hasn’t done anything that tells me she deserves the starting place. Feel free to disagree with this of course, this is just my own personal opinion.

56 mins – confusion has entered the chat. McManus ends up pretty much through on goal, and then the ref whistles for what I assumed to be an offside. So naturally I nearly kicked my laptop out the window. The ref then awards a United penalty, and I’m even more confused now than I was in the beginning. I genuinely didn’t see anything but did hear a few shouts from what I’m assuming was the United bench for handball, so I have no idea what happened here.

‘58 – GOAL. Who else? God bless Katie Zelem is all I’m saying.

‘61 – Hanson 🔁 Ross. I think this was a good swap. I don’t think Ross was particularly good today, and Hanson immediately sparked that RW. I would have subbed Ross off sooner but that’s my only issue.

’64 – GOAL – Sigsworth with a pretty perfect if slightly scruffy strike from a corner.

A much better corner than previous attempts, and Spurs hadn’t defended any of them particularly well. I think that we have a major issue with set pieces, I dunno what exactly the problem is, whether they need to allocate a new taker or whatever but before today had we scored from a corner all season? Lemme knowwww.

’65 – A few decent chances for Spurs around this time. One pretty clear run in from the right, and one or two shots bounced right of the crossbar and the post. Basically my heart stopped for about 8 mins.

’66 – I DO NOT WANT TO SEE BACK PASSES IN THE BOX AS OPPOSITION PLAYERS SWARM IN. CLEAR IT. I DON’T CARE WHERE IT GOES JUST GET IT OUT. (sorry for the caps but my anxiety was out in force this afternoon)

United started playing much better after both goals, think they just needed a kick up the arse. *Ahem* A confidence boost. 👀 Much better intensity for the final 30 mins than the previous 60 imo.

’68 – Another decent chance for Spurs, with Earps coming way too far off her line than sat right with me. Very lucky nothing came of that.

’69-72 – Around this time I started to get *very* confused between Amy and Abbie cause they both had yellow boots on and literally the only thing I could see on the far side of the pitch was feet. That was fun.

’73 – The wasteful corners made a return. Slightly less panicked about that one considering we were already 2-0 up but still, I would like to see the glaring set piece issue sorted asap thanks girls x

’75ish – Toone 🔁 Groenen. Man I love Jackie Groenen. She really has been immense for us so far, and there’s a definite difference in how we play without her.

’78 – Harris 🔁 M. Turner. I’ve said my piece about Harris above but man, can we take a second to appreciate Millie Turner. She never, ever stops. Literally the heart of our defence.

’86 – GOAL – Oh captain, my captain. Beautiful strike from a free kick just outside the box, with the perfect bend around the wall and subsequently the keeper to make it 3-0.

United were very obviously stronger in the second half, almost looked like a completely different team at times. Whether they just got the hairdryer treatment at the half (I would imagine Casey is terrifying when she’s mad.) or the goals gave them that spark they desperately needed to kick on, they definitely made up for all the missed chances in the first half.

’90 – 4 additional minutes.

’92 – Another United free kick. McManus found herself almost clear in (again!), but due to an unlucky fumble with the ball at her feet unfortunately nothing came from this one. Surely a 4th goal otherwise.

’93 – FIIIIIIIIGHT. Kinda. You love to see it. Spend a little while conducting some, scientific research 🌚 and have concluded that Toone was tackled from behind just as the ball left her feet, which led to the ~scuffle~. Have to say that Amy walking away with Ella was extremely 🥰🥰🥰 (This is my research - https://twitter.com/48hours8/status/1218896406020349953?s=21)

’94 – Red card for Tooney. I would assume for her reaction more than anything but the camera didn’t catch it so I guess we’ll never know. I would have thought a yellow would suffice, considering that’s all the Spurs player in question received, but apparently not. 🤔 I’m still kinda confused tbh.

’95 – Full time.

Thus concludes what was certainly an interesting match. Please enjoy this comparison of United vs Spurs chaotic energy from @danieljamesmufc

Also thanks for reading if you got this far, it’s a bit stop-starty and clunky cause I just wrote down thoughts and whatever as they came into my head and then pieced it all together later on. I also just wanna say that I was massively impressed with Smith today. She hasn’t had many chances to prove herself this season, but that combo of herself and Galton down the left was lethal today imo. 🔥

Some extra thoughts:

I’m not a huge fan (like, at all) of fans singing men’s orientated chants. Let the women’s rivalries develop on their own, in their own way, and don’t drag the vulgarities across! That said, I do think that particular group of United fans has the potential to be a very, very good thing.

Also, just wanna say that these are my girls, and I would die for every single one of them. None of my criticism is meant to be intentionally negative, I just tried to be as objective and realistic as possible, without being a fangirl lol. Even my faves aren’t immune to criticism unfortunately.

And this picture is now my favourite thing ever to exist

#that was actually pretty fun to write #living for katie and jess scoring in the same game #this took longer than i care to admit #pls be nice i’m fragile lol #muwfc #manchester united women #my writing

[kaibacorpintern]

@emblematik requested “yuugi + datebook” and i was like “hm interesting” and then a few minutes later i was like “oh shit... IDEA.” 

no joke: i wrote 90% of this on my phone. i just checked the word count and it’s 2000 words. lol. casual rivalshipping, but it’s not about that. post-DM. enjoy the feels x

MONDAY, 8:26 AM

Yuugi sat cross-legged in the soft, shallow cradle of his bed, half-asleep, phone in his hands. Anzu was on the other end of the video call, wandering through the New York apartment she shared with four other girls.

“ -- so they come bursting out of the egg, and that's just how the show starts. It gets loonier from there. But it means every week, she has to make another big-ass papier-mâché egg for her guest performer, and this week, that’s me. Hey Tiff, love the space buns,” Anzu said, turning to someone out-of-sight, and Yuugi heard a voice call back, in a cheerful sing-song, thaaank youuu!

“So you're helping her make the egg?” Yuugi said.

“Yeah, she calls it 'laying the egg.’ Performance artists are so weird,” she said, as Yuugi grinned with delight. “Anyway, gotta run. Can you do next Sunday?”

“Let me see,” Yuugi said, leaning over to swipe his weathered datebook off his night stand, the pages dogeared with almost a year's worth of use. A blank datebook he'd filled out from June to June with every notable hour of his life, using a pen he kept tucked in the binding. He'd spilled water on it a few months ago and the pages had crinkled as they dried. Now it refused to sit flat, with gaps that rippled between the pages.

He held the phone in one hand and flipped clumsily through the datebook with the other, spreading it open on his thigh. After that Sunday, there was one blank week left in the datebook. “Nope, I'm booked. Let's just do Monday again.”

“Works for me,” Anzu said. “Love ya! Bye!”

“Love you too, have fun laying your egg,” Yuugi said, and she flashed him an exasperated grin. The screen went black, and a dreamy silence descended on Yuugi’s bedroom once more. Yuugi flopped back down into bed with a contented sigh, tossing the phone onto the nightstand. He held the datebook over his head, his week carefully penned in. Class, his shifts at the game shop, and on Tuesday, he was seeing…

TUESDAY, 6:37 PM

“Fuck,” Jounouchi said, staring in bafflement at the cards lying face up on the playmat between them. They sat at a long, wooden table on the airy patio of a cafe, with vines flowing thick along the walls, the cards illuminated in the soft, inviting light of the lanterns strung across the space. “How did you win? When did you win?”

“A few turns ago,” Yuugi confessed, idly churning the ice of his Italian soda with his straw. “But you had me on the ropes for a while there. If you played your Time Wizard combo a turn earlier, I would've lost.”

“Damnit! I knew it,” Jounouchi said, thumping his fist firmly on the table. “I keep forcing myself to wait. I just don't wanna blow it again, like Nationals.”

“I think your nerves are making you doubt yourself,” Yuugi said. “Your instincts are strong. Just listen to them, and you'll do fine.”

Jounouchi, gathering up his cards from the playmat, glanced up at him, the lantern light giving his faint blush a rosy glow.

“See, how the heck am I supposed to attack you when you say things like that?” he said. “Maybe I should get a practice duel with someone who actually pisses me off. Hey, ask your pal if he'll duel me.”

“My pal? Is that what he is?” Yuugi said, lifting an eyebrow as he reached for his phone; then he changed course, tucking his hand into the messenger bag at his feet and ferreting out his datebook. He checked the date. “I'm seeing him tomorrow, actually. I'll just ask.”

“Perfect. How's your Sunday looking? Honda said he’ll have my Duel Disk fixed by then.”

“I have plans already,” Yuugi said, dropping the datebook back into his bag and leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, okay, Mr. Popular. Don't forget I leave for the tournament Friday after next. That's in your book, right?” Jou said, and Yuugi hummed in reply. Mm-hmm. Then Jou leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table and his chin atop his hands, fixing Yuugi with a roguish look. “Who is Kaiba, if not your pal?”

Now Yuugi couldn't help but blush, his skin warmer than the summer air. “Uh, he's…”

WEDNESDAY, 9:57 PM

Sitting next to Yuugi on the couch, one bent leg tucked underneath him and one arm slung over the back. Studying the screen of Yuugi's laptop as Yuugi scrolled through the lines of code he'd abandoned, several days earlier, at dawn, surrendering to the frustration of a long and fruitless all-nighter. Lucky for him, Kaiba liked nothing so much as telling people they were wrong, why they were wrong, and how to stop being wrong.

Kaiba leaned closer, frowning intently, his force of presence buffeting Yuugi like a wave. A good wave, dense and heady, fragrant with his cologne. He had many, many things to say about object-oriented programming, all of which Yuugi had listened to very carefully, and none of which he'd actually heard.

“I found your problem,” Kaiba declared.

“Thank God, this assignment is driving me nuts,” Yuugi said, sighing with relief. “What is it?”

In response, Kaiba reached out and shut the laptop with a firm whap. “You’re distracted.”

“I am not,” Yuugi said.

“Tell me what I just said about using global variables.”

Yuugi bit his lip, scrambling through the last five, ten, fifteen minutes for whatever Kaiba had said about global variables, and found… nothing, except a keen awareness of the way Kaiba was staring at him now, leaning his cheek against his loosely curled hand, a wry smile tugging on his lips. 

“Uh,” Yuugi said after a moment, realizing he’d fallen neatly into the usual trap. “Don't?”

Kaiba snorted. “When is this due?”

Yuugi leaned forward, momentarily escaping the weightless swell of feeling in his chest, and plucked his datebook off the coffee table from where it lay beside his textbooks. “In a week.”

“Alright. I have a few hours on Sunday or Tuesday. When would you like to waste my time next?” Kaiba said, with a sort of laid-back disdain.

“I think I’ll squander your Tuesday,” Yuugi said, tugging the pen free, scribbling a note. He set both laptop and datebook on the coffee table and settled back, deeply, breathlessly aware of Kaiba's gaze on him, tracing lines of fire up and down his body.

“So,” Kaiba said, a low, teasing growl, his mouth inches from Yuugi's ear. “What is so distracting to you?”

“Nothing,” Yuugi said, smiling, about to vibrate out of himself with impatience. “You have my full attention.”

“Good,” Kaiba said, and the next thing Yuugi knew he was swept up in a dark rush of warmth, Kaiba pressing a kiss like a hot, wet star to the curve of his neck. He fumbled blindly with one arm, catching Kaiba by the back of his head, pulling him down as he twisted and fell backwards along the couch.

He huffed, a wordless plea for mercy, as Kaiba mouthed along the shell of his ear, making scandalous suggestions with his tongue, clearly enjoying himself.

“Problem solved,” he said smugly, and Yuugi groaned, laughing.

FRIDAY, 4:13 PM

A gentle chime broke through the cool, quiet air of the game shop. Yuugi, wandering the shelves with his scanner, conducting inventory, pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

RYOU: finished writing my new campaign!! want in?

YUUGI: duh

what days are u thinking?

RYOU: sundays? that's when everyone else is free

YUUGI: i can do sundays, but not this sunday

RYOU: not a problem. we can start next week. any plans?

The question turned over in his chest like a stone, a tremendous weight, heavy and slow and dull. Yuugi stood motionless, staring down at his phone, the scanner dangling in his limp hand and the silence of the store falling over him like a shroud.

But he shook it off. Ryou had given him the idea.

YUUGI: I’m going to the park with my datebook, you know the one

RYOU: oh

please send him my best

YUUGI: i will!

is this the space campaign you were telling me about?

Pulling out of the subject like pulling a boot out of the mud, with staggering release. Yuugi resumed his task of taking inventory, stopping every so often to answer Ryou's excited texts about Eldritch horrors and homebrew campaigns.

That night, he lay in bed and discovered the stone was still there, cradled in his straining ribs. So he opened the skylight in his bedroom, inviting the summer night to flow in. It sprawled open above him, hot and dark and flecked with stars, vibrating with the hum of cicadas hidden in the trees. The summer spinning its promise into a refrain. Every new day, each blank page of his datebook, beckoning him forward.

SUNDAY, 11:00 AM

Yuugi awoke to a bright, beautiful June morning, sliding his feet into the secret pockets of cool still tucked away between the sheets. The skylight in his room revealed a clear, hot sky.

He flew through the rest of the morning, as light and taut as a kite, unburdened by exhaustion or idleness. On a whim, he opened his laptop, giving a quick eye to his assignment; Kaiba wouldn't bring up global variables for no reason… and the solution presented itself, like a closed fist turning over to reveal the prize in its palm.

He didn’t cancel on Kaiba. They’d waste time some other way.

Buoyant, he left the house, with his datebook and a lighter in his bag. There were two stops to make before the park: first, a cafe, for an iced coffee, and second, the neighborhood bookstore, where he bought a brand-new blank datebook.

Then he began the long, pleasant walk down to the park, his phone on silent. The whole of Domino was cast in a drowsy summer light so smooth and liquid he wanted to cup it in his hands and drink it, to feel it run sweet and pure through his veins. Neither his mind nor his route wandered from their destination: the plank bridge in the park.

It sat in an isolated corner of the park, a leafy, overgrown grotto dappled with sunlight. The long pond slowed to a mirrored stillness here, cooled by the shade of the trees. Insects hummed in the foliage. As Yuugi stepped onto the plank bridge, the hollow thunk of his foot sent some small, shy creature plunging for safety into the water, leaving only ripples behind.

He knelt on the plank bridge and opened the old datebook, taking a moment to transfer the last remains of his schedule into the first week of the new datebook. His class schedule, his work schedule, his weekly call with Anzu, Joe's tournament dates, the new campaign. All of it carefully penned in.

Then he leaned over the edge of the plank bridge, seeing his reflection on the surface of the water. It was harder with mirrors: they were too crisp, too defined. They showed him nothing but his own face. But if he unfocused his eyes a bit, if he took a deep breath and snapped the last piece into place and made a wish, the face on the water wavered. Just enough to believe.

“I miss you,” he said, to the water. “I miss you every day. I still feel you… gone, here.”

He made a fist, motioning to the center of his chest. An absence with weight; a nothing and a something all at the same time. The kind of puzzle Atem would love.

There was nothing else to add. He’d said most of it already, last year and the year before. They would see each other again, some day, and he had long since understood that he was not meant to wait and he was not meant to run. He was meant to stay right here, in the heart of his own life, and feel it beating.

Yuugi readjusted, sitting cross-legged on the bridge. He flipped through the datebook, going backwards to the beginning. The memories burst open inside him, as raw and fresh as a ripe fruit, swollen with color and feeling. Deadlines for that art history class. Flying out for Anzu’s solo show in December. His first date with Kaiba, sometime in March, although neither of them realized it was a date until the morning after. CHAMPIONSHIP!!, on a weekend in September, when Jou had swept the Pan-Pacific. The pages were as crisp and dry as autumn leaves; they'd burn well.

He turned to the first page.

“Here’s what you missed,” Yuugi said, and began to read.

#intern memo #emblematik #/ #// #/// #fanfiction #can you tell i'm desperate for summer to arrive

[saintcheesus]

The Visit

John was seated in front of his brother’s grave. He cleaned it first, it was getting a bit dirty. He hadn’t been to the site since Charles first showed him. It was just...it was too hard for him to sit there and come to terms with the fact that Arthur Morgan, his brother, and best friend was dead. That was months ago, in that time he found Micah and Dutch again. He thought that he owed it to Arthur to at least tell him about that. 

“Hello again, old friend.” 

He laughed but then he felt that knot in his throat and wondered if he could do this. 

“How...how you been? Hopefully you resting up. You always did have them bags under your eyes cause you wasn’t sleeping good.” 

A flash of Arthur’s eyes, faded blue, bloodshot, and lined with purple bags under them. Towards the end of his sickness he was always fatigued, but he never really got much rest because he was hacking up a lung at night and when he actually was asleep it was for no more than five or six hours a night, and those were good nights. John let out another shaky sigh. 

“I just wish you would respond. But you can’t...at least not like this. We be talking in my dreams though. Maybe that’s you visiting me? N-not like I believe in no God and all that, but Abigail been telling me that if it make me feel good then ain’t no harm in believing in it. I reckon she’s right.” 

The wind blew and John let the sound of it fill the silence. When it was dead quiet again then he supposed it was his turn to fill it, 

“You know, it makes me sad to think that no one never asked you if you was alright. We could all tell that you was in pain some days, that it hurt when you ate, hell when you breathed. We all saw the way you was losing weight...and your muscle started to go and Dutch thought you useless to him...we all heard you when you was having your coughing fits at night and left some times cause you didn’t want us to wake up.” 

He wasn’t even at the grave for longer than five minutes and he was already crying. But it had to be said. 

“You ain’t deserve that. You was...you was always there for us, even when you could barely walk up a hill no more. I remember that time Sadie asked you for that harmonica and you went searching for two weeks just to find her one. Or when you found that dime novel for Jack.” 

He sniffled. 

“You was a good uncle to that boy. Hell I’m glad Abigail ain’t see reason and marry you instead, lord knows you would have been a better daddy to that boy than I was, still am. And as much as I appreciated the extra help, I bet you with Issac and Eliza now. I bet you he’s happy to have his pa back.” 

Arthur cried the most John ever seen after he told him Issac died. Only Hosea, Dutch, and himself knew about him. But Arthur only ever told John how much he missed him. Likewise, John hasn’t told anyone but Arthur how much he missed him. He took the journal out and placed on the ground in between them. 

“I wrote all about it in here, about how I miss you some days it hurts. I reckon Sadie thinks she miss you most of all, but it ain’t true. I miss you more. You,,, saved everyone Arthur...all them folk from the gang. We would not have made it out if it wasn’t for you. I just...I guess I wish you made it out with us too. You would love the ranch I built for Abigail and Jack, well you ain’t gonna love the part where they left me for a bit, but they back now. We got Charles, and Uncle too, he still uses that goddamn Lumbago excuse and it drives me near mad whenever I hear it. You used to especially hate it.” 

He laughed, but even that made his chest ache. 

“I ran into Dutch some time ago. It were all thanks to Sadie, she’s become...she’s become quite the force of nature. She fancy herself a bounty hunter but I reckon to them criminals she’s a nightmare. She been on Micah tail since everything went down, and she found him. She came and got me and we found them both up on a snowy mountain, Sadie almost died, one of the gang members got her with a knife while he was looking for Micah. They had a whole new gang, Arthur. It were like....it were like we ain’t even matter to Dutch in the end.” 

John allowed himself a few more tears at the thought of Dutch replacing every member in the gang with Micah of all people. John and Arthur both knew it was a mistake to let him join the gang all those years ago. Maybe they should’ve seen Dutch for what he was then for being the only one who wanted that psychopath in the gang. John thought that he could have prevented a lot of things if he weren’t so stupid. Maybe he could’ve convinced Arthur not to go to the Downes’ Farm. Maybe he should have gone instead. He wiped at his eyes again and continued his retelling. 

“They was together...hiding in some dirty shack at the peak of the mountain. You should’ve seen him Arthur, Dutch I mean. Micah still looked like spoiled shit under the summer sun and not even death could change that. But Dutch he...he looked so old and so skinny. His hair gone grey for the most part. He looked tired and angry and sad altogether. Still, he pointed his gun right at me and I thought that I was going to die right there. You was all I could hear, your voice telling me that revenge was an idiot’s game and that I should be with my family like you could not be. But Arthur I saw Micah and I...I...I thought of you. I thought of you here, half dead from TB but worst of all at the mercy of that asshole. Charles told me that your body ain’t have no bullet holes in it and I should have been relieved but instead it made me angry. Why, I was damn near spitting hot coals at that because, for some reason, knowing that you ain’t die from being shot made it hurt more. We was outlaws! It’s only right, only fair to us that we die just like all them that we killed over the years. But you died cause you was sick!” 

He felt the tears getting hot and his temper flaring at the thought again. 

“You was sick and instead of resting, you was trying to keep us all together, still trying to save Dutch and the gang even when they made your sickness worse cause you put them first. All of us. Sure, some of us saw reason and are making honest livings now, but Bill? I think I read about him robbing some bank a few weeks back. He ain’t change and he ain’t care about what you did for us, what you tried to do for him. If I was you I would have left, I would’ve gone far away to someplace dry and warm. If were to die from an illness such as that I would like to do so as peacefully as I am able. But you died saving me, and I don’t know if it were Micah that killed you or the Pinkertons, but you died alone Arthur. I hate to think of that...those moments before you...I can’t think of that.” 

John was worried that he wouldn’t be able to get his words out if he kept thinking about Arthur dying in this very spot eight years ago. Dying from his sickness alone and on a mountaintop instead of in a bed surrounded by his family like he deserved. He needed to hurry up and finish the story, it was getting dark soon. Arthur always loved the sunset. Slowly and carefully, John finished his narrative. 

“We were in a stand-off. Me, Dutch, and Micah. Micah got a hold of Sadie, only she and I made it to the cabin, Charles got shot on the way. He’s still alive, don’t worry. We all are. I told Dutch that we did our best for him, that he betrayed us, weren’t no betrayal on our end. I don’t know what made him do it, but he shot Micah and I finished him off. Dutch just walked away. I ain’t seen him since and I can’t say I much want to. Only person I want to see most is you...and I reckon I won’t for some time yet.” 

John was half tears and snot by the time he finished his piece. He kept staring at the headstone and all he could think about was how he helped Arthur most when his sickness got real bad. The nights he helped him to his bed when he was just too tired to get there on his own, the times where Arthur would cough so hard he threw up what little lunch he had. He cried softly to himself from the sheer pain of it all while John just rubbed his back. Besides himself, Charles and Sadie did their best to take care of him without making Arthur feel like he was weak. Dutch and Micah poked fun at him, made him feel bad for being sick. But he got sick trying to earn money for the gang, just like he died for them. 

“You know I was reading one day and, there’s this religion called Buddhism, I think it’s called, it’s from Asia. Anyhow, they believe in reincarnation and it’s when people are reborn, they come back for another life. It got a lot to do with how a person lived, if you was bad, you ain’t gonna like your next life and the same for being good...I know that you always thought you was the lowest of us all, but you...you was a good person, okay? You did bad things but that don’t mean that you had a bad heart. Living in the West when we was growing up...it was tough and we had to survive. Well congrats, Arthur, you did it. You--” 

He stifled a sob. 

“You survived. And I hope....I hope that in your next life you get to be born to a ma who won’t get sick and die, and to a pa that loves you and won’t touch a hair on your hand if it ain’t to tell you he’s proud. I hope that in your next life you’ll find another woman to love again and you’ll have your babies with her and grow old with them. You’d be making an honest living and you won’t ever have to suffer as bad as you did now...I hope that when that happens...I hope we meet again too.” 

The next handful of minutes involved him crying as he thought about all that’s happened to him, and how it was going to take a long while to move on from his brother’s death even though it’s been nearly a decade since he passed. When he thought himself composed enough to head home, he smiled and placed a hand on the wooden cross. He bent over and placed a quick kiss to the mound of dirt, patting it fondly and standing up after. 

“I’ll come back at the end of the week. Rest up now, you hear? I got stories, this is strange country we live in, brother!” 

He mounted his horse and slowly made his way back to his ranch. 

#john marston #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #i made myself sad and now I hope I make y'all sad too

[skittles1229]

THE EVER-CHANGING STORY OF LUNARIS

*SOME OF THESE CHARACTERS AND PLACES ECT. DO NOT BELONG TO ME, THEY WERE MADE BY LUNARIS GAMES FOR THE INTERACTIVE VISUAL NOVEL "WHEN THE NIGHT COMES" AVAILABLE EITHER FROM THIER WEBSITE OR ON ITCH. THE COVER IS ALSO FROM LUNARIS GAMES (ITS THIER PIN SET FOR SALE ON THIER SITE)

https://www.wtncgame.com/collections/pins-charms/products/wtnc-holo-sparkle-charms

This is a project I started to maintain my boredom so ill be using the characters from a really great visual novel called when the night comes written by lunaris. Go check it out! ill be writing about all the characters including you being the x reader. After I've introduced the plot and characters and if i have enough readers, I'll let you guys pick who I right the first romance ending with, the endings will probably have a bit of smut so if your just wanting to know the story you don't have to read the romantic endings

___________________________________

Chapter One: Unwelcome start

        My feet are killing me and its hot and dark, I'm walking through unfamiliar woods. All I can smell is tree leaves decaying and pine. To fill you in without telling you my life story and having a pity party, I'm one of the few shifting Dire Wolves left. We are a dying breed since people and monsters were coexisting now, I'm over joyed about the mixing of the populations but as the wolves breed with humans our ability to shift is slowing leaving as the generations grow. I on the other hand wasn't liked by much of anyone. I grew up around old town human folk. Both parents had been killed by townsfolk and luckily the little who girl found me as a puppy was nice enough to bring me to her home. That little girl became my life. Her blonde hair reminded me of wheat in the fall and she smelled of old moth balls and freshly cooked bacon. Kasey was a lonely child born a bastard and then left alone when her mom left into town one day. She didn't come home that night. She had the kindest eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul and hers was broken and glued back together so many times that you couldn't recognize her original beauty. She brought me to a little cabin back in the woods where I stayed with her and her grandmother.  I stayed out of school because at the time freaks weren't exactly normal. I learned everything through Kasey and her homework as I grew up. We played in the old field through the woods and down an old forgotten gravel road. She would always tease me about my ears but she loved my big bushy tail. Kasey was a pure soul and sometimes id have to remind her how special she was especially during the times to come. She became ill in late fall, losing her ability to walk and becoming more and more pale from the lack of sunlight. We were told she had an immune issue that couldn't be fix with the medicine we had then and magic was a cure but was also out of the question since anyone who was seen as a witch was seen as a harm to the community and burned at the stake. It wasn't that way in the big towns with lots of people coming and going bustling about, but down here in the boon dock of the forgotten swamp everyone had the same opinion. anything new and different was and and therefore had to be destroyed.

         When I was around six Kasey succumb to her unfortunate circumstances in her sleep and she took her welcome with her. I think that maybe it was one of the few mercies I've ever seen god do for someone. After she died the grandmother, already being on her last years, passed not long after that. With nothing holding me to that little shack in the woods I moved on. I was never given a name and so along the way I've figured out who and what I am. Remind me to tell you that one later on, I've been walking for a few days with my satchel made from rabbit fur with old shoe laces holding it together, Kasey in her better days stayed bored in her old pink bedroom reading the same book she had on the old bookcase in the living room. Her grandmother went to the market in town most days to sell her vegetables. she would bring us home sweets and toys. For Kasey's birthday she bought her a bag of fabric rabbit fur and some thread and needles to teach her to sew hoping that would cure her boredom. A few months before she passed, she hurriedly finished off the synch bag with one of her shoelaces from her boots. That bag is the one I have with me now. My clothes and few days worth of food is in it as well. I had been shifted into my wolf form going on 48 hours now and my (F/C favorite color ) fur was now stained with mud and leaves from the nights sleep in a dug out hole. The last sign of civilization was back in my home town. it was now night time again and had seen no sign of a town any where close. It was getting dark and my joints were burning from the pain of walking. I quickly found a soft spot in the ground digging up a little hole to lay in for the night. The woods around me creaked with shifting wood and wind rustling the foliage. Harry had become the governor a while back suddenly disappeared recently in his home base in Lunaris. That's where Kasey's grandmother went for hours everyday to be a part of the market so I decided to see if there was anywhere I could stay and maybe get a job and start a life for myself. All this time I had no real name, Kasey never named me. She wanted me to be able to choose it for myself and I'm now 20 in human years. Our bodies aged in human instead of dog years another kind of pro with the watering down of the generations. I had gone through all of Kasey's family and school friends, even people she heard the name of by passing by in church, I'd heard all the names and thought about them and said them all out loud the see how they role off the tongue and I finally settled on (Y/N) tonight. 

      I had fallen asleep at some point and shifted back into human form curling around my bag to protect it from the outside. Suddenly the ground around me started to shake and the foliage covering the entrance to the den started to shake loose and fall in. At this point I'm wide awake and have my back to the wall and head in a snarl towards the entrance not knowing why or what had shaken the ground so harshly. I smell a fowl smell that reeks of something I've never smelled before. It began to burn my nose like alcohol or whatever grandma had in the wash rooms for spring cleaning. I heard twigs breaking and a long groan that howled with the wind. My heart was racing not knowing what to expect to come through the entrance and that's when I saw the light from the moon blocked by a large shadow. I braced for a fight when suddenly it let out a yelp of pain as I see two or three other shadows chase it to the right of the hole. Lots of yelling from men and women can be heard along with lots of new smells. All of them had hints of sweat and fear but some of them were odd. One was carried in on a breath of lavender and honey and the other of burnt wood like a fire place. One also smelled like chocolate and for a split second I smelled the familiar canine sent, Another wolf or maybe a half breed Lykan. I laid there and listened as the group seemed to quickly dominate whatever that creature was and if there's a group of hunters then there has to be a town. I wait for the noise to die out before I stick my head out of the hole to check my area. I look at the position of the moon and start to get a better idea of how long I was asleep. I think it must have been at least 3 in the morning. I grabbed my bag and pulled myself out of the hole, shaking off loose dirt and changing myself back into that big furry wolf I've become used to and walk towards where I heard the commotion to catch the scent of where they had gone. The creature they fought was dead on the ground covered in its black oozing blood. It looked like a genetic mutation of some kind gone very wrong and the smell almost could knock you out, if your a dog that is. I heard a snap of a twig in the distance and that's when I caught the scent of a dying summer, decaying flowers and dying memories. 

      I see a blue glow coming from an object a few feet in front of me hidden in the darkness of the trees, whatever it was it made it very clear that I was unwelcome and that I was seen as a threat. I bent neck down feeling the hair along my spine start to stand on end as I snarled my teeth in the direction of the ominous blue glow. Suddenly the tense feeling in the air dropped, you could feel the tension melt away and in that second the strange creature pushes forward into the moonlight. A man with golden eyes and a mechanical arm moves forward looking with his hands raised. "My names Finnegan and I know you wont hurt me because your not just any wolf am I right?" The sudden question brushes me as weird and out of place but regardless it only makes me all the more persistent that he not come any closer. He stops in his tracks and sits in the tall grass he had been previously standing in. We sat there like that for what seems like forever and he seemed to feel talkative because he asked question after question. I looked around to think of what direction I wanted to go in order to get away from here .

     "You know it would be easier to go to Lunaris." he said picking at something under his nails. I look at him tilting my head, can he hear my thoughts? I didn't think humans could do such things but he didn't look like a human. Not with the fangs like that and those pointed ears. "No I'm not human I'm a vampire, I live in Lunaris with my friends. I actually have a Lykan friend as well so you wont be alone." I bent my ears back in annoyance, tired of the vamp imposing on my thoughts. I decided I would speak with him but not in this form. As a Lykan I could still stay able to protect myself and be able to speak to this other freak of nature in front of me. In order to do so I'd have to get away from this vampire long enough to cover myself. Almost instantly the vamp got up causing me to jump. "There's a graveyard a little ways from here, you can shift and change in the maintenance shed. As I'm sure you heard earlier there are some odd creatures in these woods so ill walk you to town myself. Then I can take you to Ezra and have him give you a once over." he began to walk and turned around about five feet away to ask if I was going to follow, I decide that this town might be a start to a weird series of events. We made our way through the woods to a small path of cleared trees and some sand, we followed that to the graveyard behind a large church like building and that's when I saw the small shed. "I'll stand behind the shed towards the woods I'm sure nobody is awake so you shouldn't have to worry about townsfolk." I shifted back into my Lykan form and hurry into the shed. My (hair length) (H/Color) hair fell over my face as I shoved myself into my tight jeans and put my long sleeve white shirt on. my ears still sat on the top of my head and my tail is swishing back and forth in anticipation of how this town was going to accept a new comer and a freak at that. I threw on the hoodie I had found hanging on a tree on my way out of my old town, probably left by one of the boys in the old town. I smoothed my fur down and walked out of the shed with my bag in my hands, I peaked my head around the corner and caught the golden eyes of the man called Finnegan as he's leaned against the shack with his arms crossed. 

      I walk up to him with my arm wrapped around my bag and offered him the other. "My names (y/n), sorry about the weird introduction but I really just have no clue where I am or where I'm going." he grinned and studied me before opening up and talking again. "You cleanup really well don't you (y/n)." I simply lowered my head as a response and shrugged my shoulders. " It would suck to have to stay as wolf all the time because I'm just to ugly to look at as a Lykan." he laughs flashing his fangs and approaching me and taking my hand pulling me closer to him to where we were inches apart. "Ugly is one thing you aren't, if your this pretty as a Lykan then I cant wait to see you in human form" he then snuck his arm around my waist turning me around as he began to walk to the town. "How did you know I could do that?" I stopped him and I could see his grin form as he turned around to meet my eyes. "I've been alive a long time (y/n).  when the old man who sired me was alive he'd tell us stories of the dire wolves that lived in the forest in the mountains. He would tell us stories of how they had almost repopulated in a town not far from here, completely unannounced to the world growing among the town folk." he looked away suddenly his essence changed from one of wisdom and confidence to one of remorse and sadness. He began to walk once again motioning for me to follow. "That is until the townsfolk caught wind  of such rumors. He banded together the higher ups and went through exposing half the town to be," he grimaces as if saying the name leaves a sour taste in his mouth, "werewolves as the humans put it."  We had just made it through a small alley leading too a large stone road. This is the first time I've heard the real story aloud of what happened to my parents that day. Suddenly I  didn't feel much like talking anymore and the vampire noticed this as we made it to the closed up and dark market side of town. Large tents and shacks were on both sides of the road, I'm sure it looks much nicer when its open and bustling with people. "I'll have to show it to you." he says suddenly again answering my thoughts as if id said them aloud. "You know Finn I love your interest in me but I think its kind of of rude to read others thoughts right?" His eyes suddenly dart away and clears his throat, "Not if the person has particularly loud thoughts but I do see what you mean. Nasty habit it is, been aiming to fix that." We both laugh for a bit and then he heads for a door on the right side of the road raising his metal arm to touch the door. When his hand makes contact, Finn says a few words in another language and his arm burst to  life flowing with blue lights. The door makes a noise and a shield seams to lower into Finn's hand as he opens the door. He pulls me in and I'm immediately overwhelmed at the smells around me, some fragrant like perfumes and others dirty like burning wood. He had shelves of boxes and books, homemade spells and food with jars of candy lining the shelves.

     Finn puts the wards back up and leads me to the kitchen where he sits me down at the wooden table across from the couch and the wall covered in art work, "Wait here while I run upstairs and get the witch you just relax and think if anything hurts or needs to be looked at." with Finns vampy speed skills he vanishes up the stairs to get this so called witch, I certainly do hope I don't meet the same fate as my parents once did in this town years ago. I here rustling and movement up the stairs as a dark skinned man comes running to me with worried eyes and open arms. he cups my face in his hands and scans me over for any sign of blood or wounds. "Finnegan she looks alright, you made her out to be as if she'd been attacked." He looks back at Finn letting go of my face in order to hit him in the head just enough to scuffle his hair. He then turns around to me and straightens up his robe and his curly mop of hair, I hold out my hand to introduce myself and he grabs it with both hands pulling me in with a smile. "I'm Ezra and this my little spells and Knick knack shop." he has a strange contagious happiness that causes my worries and doubts to slip away. He rubs his hand through my hair making his way to my ears checking for ticks and mites since my ears are much different  from human ears. "Are you ok," He says we a worry filled smile and motions me to sit down, I obey as my feet have become numb after so many days of walking. He reaches into his shelves and pulls  out a kettle and a metal box of herbs and tea bags for homemade blends. "Go on love what happen? Why are you out in the woods at this hour?" I yawned in response of all their questions and simply said, "No disrespect Ezra but I'm exhausted and my feet are throbbing, I think the walking has caught up to me." He nods knowing what I mean. Ezra hands me a cup of tea and some cookies from a jar up in the cabinet. "Right I'm sorry. Let me help Finn out and I'll come back and run you a bath with herbs and salts to get you well rested and ready for tomorrow." He and Finn stepped to a hatch underneath the rug in Ezra's common quarters.  I took a few cookies sneaking them into my bag so that I can eat them later as well, they were ( favorite kind ) cookies and i couldn't resist the temptation to stuff my face. 

        Finn calls my name waving as he disappears into the hole and Ezra closes it back up and covers it again. "Alright now to get you all set, come with me up stairs." I follow behind slowly hating every step up those stairs but it was well worth it when I made it. He had a big circle tub surrounded in stone, it looked to be able to fit two people and the water come up pretty high. The twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling were different shades of blue purple and pink with a magical blue flamed candle hanging on the wall in a glass case. The tub was filled with steaming water and flower petals, the room smelled of pine and mint with citrus chopped up into slices and dropped into the water. Bubbles had covered the top of the water like snow and smelled like lavender and honey. His bathroom was pure happiness and love expressed in his home. "Now this bath should help your muscles not be sore in the morning and it should help you fall asleep tonight, I hate to ask but should I check you for ticks or scratch's anywhere on you?" I shrugged as my body was still covered in fur and it could be hiding anything but I was so self conscious about my body that I wouldn't dare ask for his help with this task. I point my head down and hugged myself as if to comfort myself. Ezra looked at me with kind eyes and hands me a towel, "Its ok if you aren't comfortable with it, just promise me you'll come and let me take any off for you. They carry lime disease and other things that can harm you!" as he goes to grab the handle to leave I grab his arm. I muster up all the courage I can and whispered, "Can you stay and help me Ezra?" He smiles and blushes slightly, wrapping me in a hug, "of course!" He closes the door and stays turned around as I take my clothes that I have on now off and grab the robe from the wall and cover myself. "Alright your ok to look now." I say in a small voice. "Alright I'm gonna start with your legs and work my way up and after your done you can use my cats flea shampoo to make sure everything is clean and gone. I nod my head agreeing and let him begin, he rubs his soft hands over my paw pads massaging as he goes looking for any bumps or imperfections. He comes across a tick that had made itself at home on my inner thigh , he poked and prodded at it for a few minutes but it was resistant to all his attempts. "You know fur is great but I just don't think I could do a full body of it." He laughs and I return his joke with a giggle of my own. "Would it be easier if there was no fur?" I ask searching his face for his reaction.  At first he looks confused and he seemed to be racking his brain for what I could be saying. "Well I'm certainly not going to shave you if that's what your asking." he smiles and we both laugh. I trusted Ezra I didn't sense any type of misjudgment or threat coming from this simple witch. 

     I began to shift into my human form and my leg grew smaller in his hand and the once thick course fur is now bare soft human skin. The robe that was a perfect fit before, is now hanging down off my shoulders. It draped around me like a sheet and Ezra had stayed quiet so far, only staring wide eyed and enchanted at the sight. My hair falls in front of my face as I smile at him, "Is that any better?" He's still not said a word so far, just staring at my face and rubbing my legs searching for the fur that was no longer there. "Now how did you do that? spell? hallucinations? Are you even a wolf?" He seems stunned and unsure of what to say, he did however have lots of questions some of which I could answer and others was searching for myself. We talked while taking the ticks that had made themselves at home on me off finally, burning them as he went. his hands glided over me like soap and his hands felt like heaven against my skin.  "I'm honestly stunned I didn't think of it before you told me, I remember in school they use to mention small things about dire wolves but they never dove into that chapter which I guess was because you guys were believed to have died out long ago. but behold!" he places some bubbles on my he'd and smiles so wide that his eyes look squinty. "your here1 So obviously the world didn't lose all of its beautiful one of a kind dire wolves." What a sweet happy minded guy, he seemed to only be able to see the silver lining and if he could see the other side of things then he hides his emotions very well. It didn't take much for the mud and dirt that was previously there to fall away into the soapy water. Ezra had gone to make himself a cup of tea and was waiting in his room for when I was done. My hair had been shampooed and I washed my body with the bar of soap sitting on the side of the tub. It was green and purple but see through, there was a small flower in the middle and there seemed to be small beads in the soap that came out as you washed. It smelled like roses and vanilla, the smell reminded me of Ezra. Soon I got out and dried myself off with the lavender towel Ezra had left behind, throwing the robe on and heading to where Ezra had said his room was. He had laid out a large t-shirt and a pair of women's shorts? I hadn't seen a women in here before and no-one had said anything about a wife or girlfriend ... maybe they were a friend of his, at least that's what I'm hoping. As soon as my head hit the soft feather pillow I drifted off into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of of cookies, flowers, and Ezra? oh, Finnigan as well. Seems I simply cant escape the happenings of tonight or the past. My memories slowly drift back to that little blonde haired girl I had loved once before.

(A/N) The picture at the top is of the characters mentioned in this story from from the game when the night comes. if you haven't read it You should definitely take a look before you dive into this so that you can fall in love with the characters before reading other peoples interpretations of their personalities. I personally feel like I couldn't dream of reaching the level of dedication that the creator of the game had for their characters. I have a second chapter out on my wattpad.

https://my.w.tt/FNUbZCj8mbb

[occasionalthoughtsofunimpor-blog]

Camp.

That one, simple, monosyllabic word, means so much to me.  It contains so many memories, so many people, and so many important moments of my life, it is hard to conceive how just one word could evoke so many thoughts and emotions.

This week, as we take the docks out of the chilly waters here at Camp Lakeview in Seymour, Indiana, it will mark 10 years since I first embarked on this journey known as camp.  I could never have imagined where the winding road would lead!

It was 10 years ago that I boarded a plane in Cleveland, OH, headed to the distant Sawthooth Mountains of Idaho, to discover what being a camp counselor was all about...I had never been to Idaho before.  Heck, I had never been to a camp before!

My story begins as I feel most great tales of adventure, calamity, and triumph often do, with that most primordial of masculine quests: impressing a girl.  Fall semester of my freshman year of college, while searching half-heartedly and fruitlessly for a summer job, I learned that the cute girl who lived down the hall in my grungy dorm, had plans to work at a camp over those months of freedom.  I had never been to camp before, let alone considered working at one!  But all of a sudden, it seemed like the only logical conclusion to my aimless search for employment was sleeping in a cabin with 12 other smelly human beings.  

Now here we must pause to gaze in awe at my infinite brilliance and cunningness.  I knew it would be too obvious, too mundane, not impressive enough, to work at any old camp, let alone the same camp that the cute girl was working at.  No, indeed not!  It only made sense to go spend the summer in some far-flung, mysterious wilderness...as far away from home, and her, as possible!  So on a Tuesday morning, having received a tip from my childhood Pastor (unaware of my motives, and who himself worked at a camp while a student) about an organization of many different Lutheran camps, I logged onto the interwebs, loaded a map listing all the various locations on it, and pinpointed the dot furthest away from rural Ohio.  

Camp Perkins, Idaho.

I took 30 minutes of spare time between classes to flip through the application and send it on its way to the camp.  The wheels were set in motion.  This unsuspecting maiden would be swept off her feet by my bold, daring, trek across the country into the great unknown!

If you haven’t already guessed, my start in camp ministry did not have the best of intentions.  Truthfully, even though I grew up in a faithful, Christian family; attended church and youth group every week through high school; my faith had taken a backseat in my newfound, liberated, college lifestyle .  Sure, I would try to read my Bible a couple times a week, maybe go to church a few times a semester, and for the most part hold to the moral principles I had learned to live by from my upbringing.  From the outside, you might even say I was being a model Christian.  But on the inside, in the heart that I know, there was simply very little room for an active, living, faith and relationship with the Lord.  Indeed, only 30 minutes after I finished my phone interview for a position at the camp, I was headed to a keg party with some friends.

As I prepared to venture to Idaho, the responsibilities leading Bible studies, and sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ, were the furthest things from my mind.  There were more pressing matters at hand!  Which hiking boots should I get to conquer those mighty peaks?!  Would 5 pairs of wool socks be enough??  Is this knife big enough to kill a grizzly?!

It was a warm, sunny day when I landed in Boise.  I debarked the plane in my favorite lime green basketball shorts, an ultra trendy t-shirt, and some nike flip flops.  After retrieving my 50 lb. duffel bag, bursting at the seams with everything I would need for the next 11 weeks, I crossed the Potomac river like General Washington (translation: walked outside), to meet my ride up to camp.  I sat down on my duffel bag at the arrival pick up lane and waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  In my continuing infinite brilliance, in the age before smart phones, I had neglected to write down a phone number to contact either Camp Perkins or my ride.  

After 1 hour, I began to worry I had given the camp incorrect flight information.

After 2 hours, I started calculating how long I could survive on the $45 in my wallet.  

After 3 hours, waves of anxiety started crashing down with the humiliating thought of having to recount the tale of my embarrassment and failure to the cute girl down the hall...

After 4 hours, the seas parted, and a chariot of fire (ok, a Subaru Outback) from heaven came roaring into the airport terminal and out popped a young man with a Camp Perkins t-shirt.  Salvation at last!

As we began the 3 hour journey from Boise to camp, myself and my driver, (Whose name was Chris, but at camp they called him Bash.  I liked that!) fantasized  of what adventures would await us this summer.  I also marveled at the scenery outside the car window.  If you have never been to Idaho, it is the most under-appreciated state in the entire country!  I’ve traveled to Colorado, Montana, Oregon, Arizona, Utah, California, and still, there is not sight more beautiful to me than the wild, untouched, mountains of Idaho.  However, as we ventured further away from the airport, I begin to notice a worrying sign along the road.  You see, we were still over an hour SOUTH of camp, and yet there was already a solid covering of this white, shiny stuff on the ground.  SNOW?!?!  It’s mid-May!!  It was 75 degrees in Boise!  In my extensive preparations, I had somehow overlooked this tiny detail...bring pants to camp.  I nervously brushed off this small oversight and carried on as if it was no big deal.

We arrived at camp in the waning sunset to the sounds of loud singing coming from somewhere off in the distance.  As we hauled our heavy bags across the property to our cabin, we gradually drew nearer to the source of the boisterous chanting, until we came to the top of hill where we could see a group of 40 some people singing and dancing wildly around a fire below.  What had I gotten myself into?!  These people were crazy!!  These people were something I was not!  They were loud, joyful, and couldn’t care less what anyone else around them thought!  They had a passion and desire to serve the Lord and live out the gospel written on their heart!  

These people were something I was not...these people were something I only conveniently pretended to be...

I was not the best counselor that summer.  In fact, I don’t think I was even a good counselor! Certainly, not when I compared myself to those around me.  I had never supervised kids before, I had never led a devotion before, I had never tried to console a homesick child crying in his bed.  There were so many things I had never done before, never even thought about before!  And all of a sudden, my life was no longer about serving myself, or doing what I wanted to do.  My life was about caring for these little  creatures (for some reason, I always seemed to get the youngest campers....), making sure they were having fun, making friends, staying alive, and learning about a faith that I wasn’t even sure I had.

And, through it all, the goods times and bad, the triumphs and failures, I was surrounded, supported, challenged, and loved by an amazing group of people.  My fellow summer staff.  I could tell you stories about the time I wore a gator skin suit and pretended to be a daredevil, or the camper who wore the same red sweatpants and sweatshirt for an entire week, or the boy who shot an arrow through his hand...the tales are endless!  But while those stories are entertaining (at least to me) and exciting, what was infinitely more exciting was the story of God’s working in my heart.

That summer, the Lord led me on a journey to discover Him.  I learned how the faith of a child can be the most amazing, beautiful thing you have ever seen.  I discovered that God does not only exist in church on Sunday mornings, but in the most competitive game of knockout you’ve ever seen, around the warm glow of a campfire, and even in taking camper Johnny to go pee at 3 freaking-in-the-morning.  I saw that God is merciful, patient, and abounding in love to the n-th degree.  I found a God who was working in me and through me, in spite of my less-than-Godly motivations.  

Camp.  

I believe in camp ministry because I am a product of camp ministry.  It is a place apart, where for a period of time, whether a summer, a week, or even a day, we can encounter the Lord in the rawness of His majestic creation.  It is a place where the concerns and anxieties of daily life seem to melt away; where cell phones go to die;  where sinners can go to find life.

10 years ago I first set foot on that hallowed ground that is Camp Perkins.  I have seen  countless victims thrown into freezing cold lakes.  I have been eliminated from more games of dodgeball and knockout, by seemingly innocent children, than I care to share.  I have met thousands of amazing people, each with their own unique story.  I have witnessed the Lord’s Spirit at work in innumerable lives, none more so than my own.  10 years later I am still at camp because I believe it is a place that changes and saves lives. It did for me.

I could never have imagined the journey the Lord would lead me on over these past 10 years, but I could never be more grateful.  I am beyond blessed.  As we head into this “offseason”, I can’t but to be excited for the even more amazing things the Lord Jesus Christ is going to do!

And as for that cute girl down the hill, well it’s a funny thing...I returned to school the next fall only to learn that she had transferred to another college!  Apparently she was not impressed.  

I guess my going to camp was all for naught after all!

[agwitow]

Prompt for June: It's truly magically how something so horrifying can become so beautiful

Thanks Nonnie :)

Leonan was a skilled leather worker in a small village nestled in the heart of Doman Forest. The village had no name. It was simply “the village” to those who lived there. Sometimes Leonan thought it strange, but whenever he tried to think about why it was strange, the thought would slip through his fingers.

There were thirty families in the village, and no one ever came or left. Leonan often wished he could see the world beyond the forest–he loved to read about adventures in far off places–but whenever he tried to leave he somehow got turned around and ended up right back at the village.

His mother said that no one had left the village in over three hundred years. There were vague recollections of newcomers arriving in the village, but she couldn’t say who they were, or even what family they might have married into.

Despite Leonan’s persistent ache to explore, life in the village was pleasant. The winters were mild, the summers clear. When it rained it was just enough to water the crops, and then it went right back to being sunny. The people were also generally pleasant. The baker always remembered everyone’s birthday and would make a special cake for them. The barber’s wife brewed her own beers and spirits for her husband to use whenever he had to extract a rotten tooth or set a broken bone. The three clergymen were always cheerfully befuddled, with ink stains on their robes, and a sympathetic ear for anyone who might need to talk about their woes.

Of all the people in the village, there was really only one that Leonan didn’t like.

Cruvar.

He was the closet thing the village had to a nobleman. He owned all of the farms and several of the businesses in the village. Which meant he didn’t have to work. So he spent all his time hunting, drinking, and crawling into the bed of anyone who didn’t say no.

Which meant there were maybe five people over the age of sixteen Cruvar hadn’t at least kissed. (Not including Cruvar’s family, or Leonan.)

That Leonan was one of the few who weren’t swayed by Cruvar’s charm seemed to bug the egotistical ‘prince’ of the village.

Cruvar tried everything to win Leonan. He commissioned expensive leather pieces. He commissioned sex toys and tools. He bed Leonan’s former lover (a sweet, but unambitious young man). He bed Leonan’s sister. He timed his hunts to coincide with Leonan’s. He sponsored a rival leather worker (who had to close up shop after a month because even with Cruvar’s endorsement the other man didn’t get enough business to cover the cost of supplies).

Nothing he did made Leonan any more interested.

Instead, Leonan spent more time in the woods. He didn’t need to hunt as often as he did (and most days he didn’t even take a single shot), but the Doman Forest was large. And as long as his intent wasn’t to leave the village permanently, he could seemingly wonder forever.

On one such non-hunt, Leonan came across strange tracks. They were large, almost bear-like, but with a long tail and a semi-erect gait. He couldn’t imagine what sort of creature might make such marks. He followed the trail through the forest. It didn’t follow any of the game trails he was familiar with, and almost seemed to be wandering at random.

Leonan was so caught up in the pursuit that he barely paused when the sun went down. The moon was almost full, and the creature left a clear path. He continued through the night. The sky had begun to brighten when he came upon a small valley.

A thin stream wound its way through the dip, pooling at the far end. The trees were twisted and warped, with branches that drooped and dragged on the ground. The tracks led through the curtains of leaves, so Leonan pressed on.

He heard the creature before he saw it. A rumbling breath, like an oversized cat purring, rolled out, paused, and rolled back in. Leonan gripped his dagger and crept closer. He parted the final curtain of leaves and gasped.

A beast lay sprawled next to the pool of water. It had a long tail with a tuft at the end and massive paws. A ruff of fur ringed its neck and trailed down its back. Branching horns, like those of a buck, topped a wolfish face. Though the creature was sleeping, its long teeth flashed every time it breathed in.

Leonan backpedaled. He tripped over a root and fell to the ground. Instantly, the beast was on its feet. It stood almost six feet tall, even though it was hunched over with its clawed fingers brushing the ground.

The beast leapt, pinning Leonan to the ground, and roared so loudly the drooping branches swayed away with the force of it.

“Gods have mercy!” Leonan cried out.

“The gods have no mercy,” the beast snarled, its jaws inches from Leonan’s face.

“You, you can talk!”

“Of course I can talk,” the beast snapped. “I was once a man, before the gods cursed me.”

“Why would they curse you?” Leonan couldn’t help but wonder about the beast, even amidst the fear that still gripped him.

The beast grunted. “Hubris. I have been trapped in this form for three hundred and forty-two years.”

“That’s how long the village has been isolated,” he said, more out of surprise than to contribute anything.

The beast’s brow drew down and it sat back (still sitting on Leonan’s legs so he couldn’t escape). “What village?”

“It has no name. It’s simply the village,” Leonan replied.

“Where is your village?”

Leonan gestured vaguely. “Two or three days travel in that direction.”

The beast cocked its head and studied him. After an intense moment of scrutiny it asked, “Why did you come here?”

“I came across your tracks and was curious.”

“You weren’t scared?”

Leonan shrugged. “I didn’t really think about it. I wanted to know what sort of creature made tracks like that.”

“Are you scared now?”

“I was. You seem less frightening now that we’re talking.”

The beast snorted. It let Leonan up. “My name was once Horhad.”

“I am Leonan.”

Horhad and Leonan talked until the sun was overhead. They parted as uneasy friends and over the course of the next several months, came to be very close.

Cruvar, ever watchful for an opportunity to impress Leonan, noticed that he seemed distracted. So he followed Leonan into the forest and to the strange little valley. He watched in horror and disgust as Leonan embraced the beast in greeting. Cruvar didn’t know anything about magic or curses, but he was certain Leonan must be under some enchantment to be willing to stay so near such a monster.

The next time Leonan left the village to visit with Horhad, Cruvar followed again. This time he brought weapons with him. He staked out a spot and waited for the monster to arrive and greet Leonan. His lip curled and he fired a barbed arrow at the creature. Years of hunting for pleasure had honed his skill and the arrow buried into the beast’s side.

The creature roared and spun around, searching for the source of the attack. But Cruvar knew how to hide and the beast couldn’t see him. He set another arrow to his bow and fired again. This one pierced all the way through one of the creature’s legs.

The beast collapsed and Leonan ran to its side.

Cruvar dropped from his hiding place and stalked closer, a final arrow in hand and ready to be placed to the string.

Leonan spun to face him, a dagger in hand and tears on his cheeks.

“Do not cry,” Cruvar said. “Once the monster is dead, its enchantment on you will break. And I know just how you can repay me for saving you.”

“There is no enchantment, you oaf! Horhad is my friend!” Leonan snarled.

Cruvar scoffed. “How can you be friends with a beast?”

“It’s easier than being bed by you.”

Cruvar glowered at Leonan and set the arrow to his bow. “Move aside, Leonan, or this arrow will go through you too.”

“Then kill me and get it over with,” Leonan shouted, throwing his arms wide.

Horhad weakly reached toward Leonan, laying a hand on his back. “No,” he said, whimpering slightly. “Don’t throw your life away. Not for me.”

“Horhad...”

Cruvar gaped. “It talks!”

“Of course he does.” Leonan shot a withering glare at Cruvar before turning back to Horhad. “I can’t step aside and watch you be killed.”

“You are a good friend...” Horhad whispered.

Leonan bit out a sob. “You’re more than a friend to me, Horhad. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Horhad said before falling unconscious.

“Uh...” Cruvar shifted uncomfortably. “What is going on?”

“He was cursed, and now you’ve killed him.”

Cruvar ran a hand through his hair. “He’s not dead yet. Look, he’s still breathing.”

Leonan pressed his ear against Horhad’s chest and silently wept.

For the first time in Cruvar’s life, he regretted something he had done. He muttered under his breath, threw his bow down, and dropped to his knees beside Leonan.

“Give me your knife,” Cruvar instructed.

“You’ve already killed him, I won’t let you mutilate him as well,” Leonan said, wrapping his arms protectively around Horhad’s bulk.

Cruvar rolled his eyes. “We need to cut the arrow head out of the chest wound so we can bind it.”

“Oh...”

Leonan and Cruvar worked together to remove the arrows and bind the wounds. With that finished, there was nothing left to do but wait to see if Horhad would wake up again.

Several hours later, Horhad’s eyes fluttered open. “Leonan?”

“I’m here, Horhad, I’m here.”

“I thought I was dying,” Horhad said weakly.

“Not for a long time yet, I hope.” Leonan laughed and kissed Horhad’s nose.

Cruvar grunted. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Isn’t true love’s kiss supposed to break curses or something?”

Leonan smiled down at Horhad. “I don’t need the curse to be broken to love him. He’s perfect the way he is.”

**

Enjoyed this? I’m posting a short piece of original fiction every day in June as a thank you to all my amazing followers. Send me (non fanfic) prompts :)

#writing #prompt #short story #original story #fantasy #true love's kiss #beauty and the beast #tumblr-canon #agwitow

[graphicallysam]

Para: A Saturday with the Twins

Who: Sam and Mercedes

When: Saturday, 13 Nov 2010

Where: Evans' Home

What: Samcedes babysit the twins

Mercedes had gotten the text earlier in the day that Sam was in need of backup with his twin siblings.  Two against one were not fair odds when it came to tiny people that could team up on you, so she was more than happy to help.  She had met Stevie & Stacy at the football games when his family came to watch Sam play. She thought they were adorable, and Stevie was practically a carbon copy of Sam.  It also didn’t hurt that she liked kids.

Her mom let her drive to Sam’s house since she had her permit. She could get her license in another few weeks after her birthday, so every last bit of practice would do her good.  Once there, she grabbed her purple backpack out of the trunk and headed up to the door, ringing the doorbell.  She had packed her brother’s old Sega Genesis system that had a bunch of fun games the twins could try like Sonic and The Lion King.

Normally, Sam didn’t mind babysitting his siblings, but at five-years-old, they were like The Rugrats on crack. They pretended to be all innocent and sweet with their parents and around Quinn and stuff, but when it was just Sam by himself, they were The Kindergartners from Recess. Quinn was busy with a church thing or maybe a thing with her mom, Sam wasn’t entirely sure. So he sent out an SOS to Mercedes, hoping that she could save him, and when she agreed, he thanked God for taking mercy on him.

Since he’d started at McKinley, five months before, he’d made a lot of good friends. Finn had kind of invited him to be a part of his crew, which brought the unexpected but welcomed presence of Mercedes all of the time. Sam really liked Mercedes. She was one of his best friends at school, and they hung out all of the time when he wasn’t hanging with the guys or spending time with his girlfriend, Quinn. It was nice to have a friend that was into comics and video games and movies as much as he was. Not that Finn and Puck weren’t good for that kind of stuff, but it wasn’t quite the same. Mercedes just got it in a way no one else did. Quinn just wasn’t into the same things as him. She loved to read and spent most of her time with Rachel. They liked art museums and things he had no clue about. Sam liked art, but not that kind, and he hated reading because it didn’t come easily for him. Mercedes was just different than most of the people he’d met in Ohio. She didn’t think he was weird for speaking Na’vi, and she laughed at him impressions. Plus, she was really pretty, not that that mattered. He did have a girlfriend after all. It was just kind of a bonus.

The doorbell rang, breaking him from his thoughts and offering him salvation. He practically tripped over Stevie as they both rushed for the door. Luckily, height and gravity were on his side. So he got to the knob first and pulled it open as he shoved his brother out of the way. “Hey, Mercedes,” he said with an exhausted grin. “Ignore the mess. The twins promised they’d clean up like thirty minutes ago.”

“We’re still playing,” Stevie explained. He glanced at Mercedes, smiling shyly. “Hi, ‘Cedes!” He waved and then took off running.

“Hey, stop running in the house,” Sam called to him and sighed when his brother was out of sight. “Sorry...come in.” He stepped aside and let her in. Sam’s house was generally neat, but it always looked lived in. Both of his parents grew up on ranches in Tennessee and believe a house should look homely. But they were strict about chores, and the twins had toys scattered everywhere that would need to be cleaned up before they got home.

“Hey Sam,” she smiled brightly as he opened the door, his always adorable face saying more than he needed too in regards to the mayhem his siblings were putting him through today.  Sam had become one of her closest guy friends in lightning speed it seemed. He was so much fun to be around, he always made her smile. Whether he was doing impressions or talking with passion about his fave comic, he was just a really endearing person to be around, and she was happy that he and Quinn had started dating.  She knew he’d get a gorgeous girlfriend because he was fine as heck!

When she saw Stevie peek around Sam, she waved at him, laughing softly as he took off running. “If there weren’t toys around all over the place I’d be concerned honestly. Worried the twins got abducted by pod people or something.” She loved the Evans home, it was the perfect mix of comfy, inviting, and decorative. She loved looking at the pictures of Tennessee they had on the wall, and of course the family pictures as well.  “So, you ready to make a bet?  I bet I can get them to clean up their things in the next 10 minutes.  If I win, you have to let me and Stacey braid your hair.  If I lose...well, what do you want if I lose?”

Chuckling at the pod people comment because honestly, he’d probably think they were pod people too. They walked towards the family room, and he nearly tripped over a toy truck. “Yeah, we can make that bet...I don’t know how you’re gonna do it without mind control.” He stopped when the reached the room and looked at her. “You have to show me how to beat that one part of Asura’s Wrath.”

“A girl never tells her secrets, but I suppose I can help you out with the game,” she replied as she sat her backpack over by the entertainment center, out of the way of the twin tornadoes.  “Now watch me work my magic,” She gave him a wink before she scrolled through her song list and found “Moves Like Jagger” by Maroon 5. The beat would get the kiddies moving, and she could make up lyrics that would cover up any suggestive stuff.  “Whoever gets finished picking up the toys first gets to pick something awesome out of my magic backpack.” She sang.

Sam rolled his eyes playfully. One day, he’d get her to show him even if he lost this bet. He wondered what she was up to when she went into her bag and was a little confused when she pulled out her iPod. He watched her curiously as the twins came running into the room to see what she was doing. She promised them a treat, and he was pretty sure that he’d never seen them so eager to clean up.

Mercedes was pretty good with kids. She babysat to earn extra money and had a nice clientele list. The majority of them were people in her church, and a few in her neighborhood.  She sang along to the music, dancing with the twins in between their battle to get the toys put away the fastest.  “The key to cleaning up is to make it fun, or to make it a competition.  If you can do both, you can do almost anything.” She said with a soft chuckle.

Once the twins had completed the tasks, she took out the Sega Genesis and the games, and then she handed them both coloring books with the special markers that would only work in the coloring books.  “I also brought some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, but I’m pretty sure you can’t have any until after dinner.”  Last thing the twins needed was sugar in them right now, the hyper little cuties.

It wasn’t that the twins were bad, but it was almost impressive that she could get them to do what they were supposed to with a song and promise of a treat. His mom did similar things, but it  didn’t work when he tired. He nodded at the advice and gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks...you’re gonna be a great mom someday,” he commented before realizing what he’d said. “I mean...when we grow up,” he added lamely. Luckily, Stevie distracted him with a question so he had something else to focus on.

“Can’t we just have a half a cookie?” Stevie questioned, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy as he spoke.

Stacy’s green eyes widened. “Mommy said no dessert before dinner!”

“Stacy,” Stevie whined, glaring at his sister.

Sam tried to hide his amused grin before he sobered a little. “Hey, hey...she’s right. No dessert before dinner, bud. You know that,” he said gently, hoping to kill the fight before it started. “Mercedes already gave you a nice treat. You should say thank you again and enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” the twins said in unison before going back to coloring.

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “I’m not having kids until I’m at least 30. I’ve got so much I want to try and do, so when I finally settle down, I’ll be able to be a really good mommy.  Maybe.  I’ll have to get a husband and all that first, but yeah.” She ducked her head slightly, feeling a little silly talking about something that far off.

She sat down on the couch, thinking of a way to change the subject. “Oh, are you going to enter the art contest?” There was a contest to come up with a new school logo for tshirts and other school merchandise.  “I bet you’d do awesome at that.” She knew it wasn’t exactly his style of art, but he was good at a lot of styles.

Sam loved his art. He loved drawing and creating things in Photoshop. He even had his own Deviantart account, but he was still kind of shy about it. He’d only ever shared his stuff with a few people. She was one of them. “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to…” he said, ducking his head.

“That’s okay,” she smiled encouragingly. “I just want you to know that I think you’re good enough to win. Sometimes it’s nice to know that other people think you’re good at something you really love, you know?” She hoped that made sense.  “Do you still want to go to Wizard Con with me and Royce in the summer?”

“Thanks, Mercedes, that means a lot.” It wasn’t that Quinn wasn’t supportive of him and his art. She was, a lot, but it still felt nice to hear Mercedes say it. He really believed she believed he could win. Maybe he’d submit something secretly just in case it didn’t get picked. Then no one would know. “Yeah, I totally still wanna go.”

“Sweet! Start talking to your parents now, that way you have time to negotiate a deal if necessary.” She grinned. “Royce is very responsible and trustworthy so hopefully they’ll be okay with it.  Do you think you’re going to dress up or anything? Royce wants to go as Jax from Mortal Kombat.”  She peered over the back of the couch, checking on the twins who were still engrossed in their coloring books.

Sam was suddenly really stoked. He couldn’t wait for the summer to get there. “I don’t think they’ll be too strict. It’s just like a day or two right? I think since you’re brother’s going too then they know I’m not sneaking away with you,” he joked, but his mind immediately went to what it might be like to sneak away before he pushed the thought away. He had a girlfriend. He shouldn’t be thinking like that. “Oohhhh maybe I should go a Sub Zero.”

She nodded her head. “Yep. We can get two day passes and drive both days, but my dad might let us use his points for a free hotel room, maybe. We’ll have to work out all the details to see. Plus I don’t want Quinn to feel weird about that, so...yeah, definitely would have to get 2 hotel rooms, just so the parents and girlfriends don’t think we’re acting inappropriately.”  She felt her cheeks get super warm. “Not that that is remotely a concern, but parents are weird about things like that.”  A subject change was very much in order right now.  “Oh that would be cool! All the pictures will be taken.”

“Yeah, my parents would definitely think that's weird. Not Quinn though, you don't have to worry about that. She knows we’re just friends,” he said as a reassurance, but he didn't add that Quinn didn't know he was attracted to Mercedes or that he would've asked her out if he hadn’t ended up with her first. He’d never cheat on her or anything, but Mercedes was hot. And Sam really liked her.

“Quinn never has to worry about things like that, she’s easily one of the top prettiest girls in school.” She smiled as Stacy showed her the picture she had finished. “That’s amazing! You’re going to be as good as your big brother if you keep that up.”  She turned her attention back to Sam, amused at how much of a baby face he had.  His parents made very attractive kids. “But Santana is the hottest, I’m under best friend contract to say that.” She chuckled.

“True, she’s beautiful, but she’s not the only beautiful girl at school,” Sam replied looking at her as she looked at his siblings. She really had no idea how beautiful she was, he thought. Her compliment to his sister really made the little girl happy, and he was grateful he'd called her over. “Santana's hot, but she's not really my type.”

“Santana is a lot to handle, but she’s a really nice person. I went through this phase where I wanted her to marry my brother when she got older so she would be my sister.  I was a little kid, so don’t judge.” She smiled.  “You have a type? Well, I mean it’s obviously Quinn. So that means you like smart, sophisticated, and beautiful girls. Which makes sense, I can totally see that.”  She jumped slightly. “Oh, I forgot that I brought you something too!” She got up and headed over to her backpack.  “Stevie and Stacy, has Sam been a good big brother today?”

Sam mouth bowed into a wide grin as she told him the story about wanting Santana to marry her brother, but when she asked if he had a type, she was talking so fast that she didn't give him a chance to respond. He couldn't really say that Quinn wasn't the only kind of girl that fit into that category. He just ended up nodding and biting back a sigh. Then she walked over to her bag again, saying she had a surprise for him, and he waited in his spot to see what she had.

“I guess so,” Stevie replied after tilting his head in thought at the question.

Stacy, on the other hand, was always Sam’s biggest cheerleader. She nodded emphatically. “Sammy’s the bestest big brother.”

Mercedes adored Sam, but she did not want to hear him wax poetic on all the ways Quinn was the epitome of perfection. She knew it was silly, but the only person she could deal with the whole I love my boyfriend/girlfriend stuff from was Tana, and she never did that anyway.  She probably wouldn’t feel that way when she got her own boyfriend, but that was probably never going to happen before she graduated high school.  She chuckled softly at Stevie’s response, shaking her head a little. Stacy’s response didn’t surprise her at all.  “Well then, I suppose I can give him these since he’s the bestest.”  She pulled out an Avengers comic book and handed it to him.  “I hope you don’t have this one. I saw it and thought you’d like it.”   She knew he wasn’t a fan of reading regular books, but he really liked comics.

He wasn’t sure what she was handing him until he could see the cover properly. He looked down at the colorfully drawn graphics before him, and he expression changed from amused to amazed and surprised. “Whoa...I didn’t get this one! Holy-” He cut himself off when he remembered his siblings were in the room. “-heck! You didn’t have to do that!” He reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, careful not to crush his new prized possession, then stepped back again.

“What is it?” Stevie asked as he hurried to his brother’s side. Stacy was right behind him, and he leaned down to show them.

Sam’s expression was so freaking adorable that she wished she had thought to take a picture of him. She was usually pretty good at picking out gifts for her friends, so she was very happy she had gotten Sam’s right.  When he hugged her, Mercedes felt like the room had just jumped up a million degrees in temperature and she was super thankful that he stepped back so she could actually take a breath to get her senses in order.  Why did she feel like couldn't breath when he got that close?

While the Evans kids were busy checking out the comic, she busied herself with connecting the Sega Genesis to the tv.

Eventually, Sam took the comic to his room to read later and headed back into the family room where Mercedes was hooking up her Sega. The twins had moved into the room and were now coloring at the coffee table. So he sat down on the floor closer to the tv and picked up a controller. “What are we playing today?”

“Only the classics of course,” she had brought all the Sonic games, ToeJam & Earl, Golden Axe, Street Fighter 2, and Lion King for the kids. “I figure I can kick your butt at Street Fighter for a bit.” She was a pro at trash talking over video games, she had learned that from Royce.  She sat down next to him, but not too close.

Sam’s grin grew. He was impressed by her trash talking skills. She was seriously one of the fiercest gaming competitors he’d ever met. So he was ready to try his hardest to beat her in Street Fighter 2. “You’re on. I hope I don’t send you home crying.” He said before settling in to play.

#char: mj #para #para 002 #samcedes rp