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uchihabbynic · 2 years

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The Lie You Fed

Characters: Naruto Uzumaki x Fem! Reader

Super Brief Mentions: Hinata Hyuga, Boruto & Himawari Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha

Warnings: Angst, Implied Cheating, Slight Mention of Sexual Themes

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: Naruto Uzumaki is a giant fluff-ball and even though he’s perfect in my eyes - real relationships are not always rainbows & sunshine. They’re messy, scary, confusing - sometimes heartbreaking and I wanted to attempt something different to portray that. Enjoy, friends ❤️

Mood 🎧 : All I Ask - Adele

With your signature cup of chamomile tea in hand - you’d been listening to the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops hitting your shared apartment window and successfully solidified the tranquil state you’d been desperately craving since the beginning of your work week. As you sat curled up on your couch - you spent time flipping through “The Knot” magazine, ogling at the breathtaking wedding venues and beautiful engagement rings you’d made sure to point out to your man.

When you weren’t going on romantic dates or having mind-blowing sex with your boyfriend Naruto Uzumaki - you’d recently been spending a good majority of your time fantasizing about being a wife and mother - creating the life you’d always dreamed of with the man you’d always wished for.

With your head in the clouds, you’d failed to hear your boyfriend come through the door.

“Hi love.” Naruto said, casually planting a kiss on your cheek as he placed the plastic takeout bag in his hand on the coffee table in front of you, making himself comfortable on a nearby recliner.

“Hi baby, welcome home!” You smiled wide, placing the wedding magazine next to you on the couch - catching Naruto’s attention.

Naruto peeked over at the pink and white book and chuckled. “Your nose is always buried in these magazines these days!”

“Shush!” You grabbed the book, playfully slapping him on the arm with it evoking a hearty laugh to spill from his lips.

You appreciated the silly, playful nature of your relationship with Naruto. Even now in your adulthood, you both made sure to keep your inner child alive. As Naruto darted out of his chair, you were right on his heels chasing him all over your apartment waving the magazine in his direction until he yelled, ‘Mercy’!

“I just want to be ready as soon as you pop the question!” you said, beaming wide - now getting comfortable on your bed, tossing the magazine to the side.

Naruto, now having stripped down to nothing but his boxers - getting prepared for his evening shower, slid on the bed next to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

“I’m just giving you a hard time babe. I can’t wait to make you my wife one day.” Naruto said, pearly whites beaming, stealing another quick kiss.

Naruto had entered the steamy bathroom jumping into the shower, leaving his phone behind on the bed with you when suddenly a text came through from a name you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Hinata Hyuga.

You trusted your man more than anything in the world and knew that a text from his ex-wife most likely had something to do with Naruto’s two kids, Boruto and Himawari.

“Naruto! Hinata texted you!” you shouted from the bedroom.

“One sec!” The blonde’s deep, raspy voice echoed from inside the shower.

10 minutes had passed and Naruto exited the bathroom, white towel hanging deliciously low on his waist - looking completely confused. It was pretty rare that the two exes communicated outside of dropping off and picking up the kids and it was Hinata’s week with Boruto and Hima so he was just as taken aback as you were. Naruto skimmed the text and immediately left the room to call Hinata. Meanwhile, you were holding your breath hoping it was nothing serious involving the kids. Even though you and Naruto weren’t married yet, you loved his children like they were your own.

Moments later, Naruto entered the room once more with a concerned look on his face, scratching his freshly washed blonde hair.

“Hinata said that we need to go to Boruto’s school on Friday. Parent teacher conference.” Naruto casually said, throwing on orange sweatpants and a fresh tee over his head.

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping the situation at Boruto’s school was no big deal.

Naruto joined you on the bed, unusually quiet. When he finally spoke up - there was little to no expression on his face. You could instantly tell something was wrong.

“Apparently, Boruto has been getting into a lot of trouble at school. Acting out. Cracking jokes to make the other kids laugh. Not turning in his work.”

“Wow, I mean - I knew Boruto was a bit of a prankster like you were as a child, but I didn’t realize it was so bad. Do you think it’s because of me…?” You looked off into the distance, holding your breath, awaiting Naruto’s answer.

“That’s silly, Y/N…I’m sure it's because he’s just at that age, ya know?” Naruto replied, now downplaying the situation.

You could see right through him. Naruto was obviously concerned like any father would be but always wanted to appear cool, calm and collected when it came to his kids.

You apprehensively spoke up, being careful to not add fuel to the fire. “Well…ever since the divorce and our relationship becoming as serious as it is…I’m sure it’s been a hard adjustment for him - for any little kid, really.”

Naruto stayed quiet for a moment taking in what you were saying. It was clear that he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that his failed marriage and new relationship was making such a negative impact on his son. Naruto could handle just about ANYTHING but this parenting thing - even having done it for 12 years - was still not something he had mastered quite yet and in the back of his mind, was worried it was something he’d never get right.

“Being a parent is the hardest thing I've ever done…no amount of Ninja training could top this.” The Uzumaki said, sounding stressed as he rubbed his tired face.

You gently rubbed Naruto’s back, soothing him. You knew he always wanted to do right by his kids and if he ever felt like he was falling short - he took it incredibly hard. Regardless, the rebellious teen years were slowly but surely creeping around the corner and you wanted to make sure he knew that you were there to support him every step of the way.

“Naruto. You are an amazing father and you’re going to handle this with the utmost grace and poise, the way I know you can. Try not to stress it too much, baby.” you said as you leaned your head on Naruto’s shoulder, deeply inhaling, taking in his zesty freshly showered scent.

Naruto’s signature smile had crept its way back to his face as he beamed from ear to ear listening to the way you encouraged him.

“I just hope this parent-teacher conference doesn’t last too long…I have a bunch of all day meetings I have to attend.” The blonde said, groaning as the painful reality of adulthood kept hitting him.

You perked up remembering that Friday was your 3 year anniversary, in hopes that Naruto didn’t forget. He was an amazing man who treated you like an absolute Queen but you weren't so blinded by love that you didn’t realize that Naruto wasn't the most organized person in the world.

“Aaaannnd, you'll be home in time for dinner, yes?” you looked at Naruto, giving him the cutest puppy dog pout you could manage.

Naruto immediately looked flustered as he had indeed forgotten that your 3 year anniversary dinner was set for this Friday but it just so happened to interfere with the parent-teacher conference.

“Y/N…I will do my very BEST to not be late. I have to meet Hinata at the school at 5:30pm for the conference and well...you know how Iruka loves to catch up and talk.” Naruto nervously laughed, hoping you’d be understanding and not hold his lateness against him.

You huffed. “Fine. But i'm making your favorite… and well, just make sure you’re home and ready for dessert.” you stuck your tongue out and crawled on Naruto’s lap, hoping the sexual innuendo didn’t go completely over his head.

Naruto slipped his large hand under your shirt, giving your boob a firm squeeze. “Don’t worry, love. I’m always ready.” The blonde smirked and you could feel Naruto’s hard length flex underneath your ass as you were pressing into his lap in all the best ways.

>>>

The candlelight flickered and the aroma of miso pork filled your nostrils as you sat at the beautifully decorated table you had prepared - awaiting your boyfriend’s arrival. You were filled with both nerves and excitement for the evening as you slipped into your favorite black cocktail dress that accentuates your curves - your bust was practically spilling out of the built-in bra but you didn’t mind as you knew Naruto would go nuts over the view.

7:30pm had rolled around and the knot in your stomach began to tighten. You began to sweat and become anxious as it wasn’t common for Naruto to be extremely late - especially not on such a joyful occasion. Your anxiety brain kicked into overdrive. You began thinking the absolute worst of the worst.

You were certain that the parent-teacher conference had been over for an hour now and Naruto wasn’t answering his phone.

“What if he got hurt on his way home?” you thought.

The intrusive thoughts were starting to consume you as this was totally unlike him. It was your 3-year anniversary and you’d been looking forward to this night for a long time. In fact, you were secretly hoping that a proposal would happen tonight, yet - here you were sitting at the dinner table alone, fighting back tears.

Suddenly, the keys jingling in the front door startled you out of your thoughts. You smoothed your dress and went to meet your boyfriend - stopping him at the front door, arms crossed.

“You’re late.” you said, sounding obviously perturbed.

“I know… I-I’m really sorry.” Naruto replied quietly, as he looked down at his feet.

Immediately, you could sense something wasn't right. This wasn’t the demeanor of the same man you loved and his discomfort was written all over his face. He awkwardly held out a bouquet of pink roses and lilies.

“Happy Anniversary.” Naruto had said just above a whisper.

There was no light in his eyes and no excitement to be found in his voice. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

You snatched the bouquet out of his hands and stepped aside - not saying a single word but letting him inside the apartment. Naruto’s face lit up - showing off his adorable signature cheeky grin at the sight of the carefully prepared dinner table you spent hours working on. However, that grin had quickly left.

You, still not amused, follow behind Naruto. “Where the hell have you been?” you said, arms still crossed.

“Y/N…We need to talk.” The blonde said, fidgeting with his fingers.

Your stomach was doing somersaults as the words rolled off your boyfriend’s lips. That phrase never meant good news. Your hopeful mood towards your anniversary night had quickly turned sour as the irritability on your face became painfully evident.

“Naruto…what’s this about?” You asked, standing frozen trying your best to mentally prepare for whatever bomb your boyfriend was getting ready to drop - your E/C eyes piercing Naruto’s baby blues.

“Something happened after the parent-teacher conference…with Hinata.” Naruto was holding his breath, awaiting your reaction.

You inhaled sharply, bracing yourself for what was to happen next. “Something like what, exactly…?” you said, carefully eyeing the blonde suddenly feeling the urge to throw up.

“We kissed. Well…she kissed me!” Naruto desperately tried to explain his side and get the story right. However, you were already shutting down. You began taking slow steps away from Naruto.

The betrayal. The heartbreak you already felt, bubbling up inside. You felt like you’d just taken the biggest punch to the gut. Your vision temporarily went blurred as the dizziness you felt began to take over. This was not what you expected in a million years. Naruto was your Prince Charming. He was the man you’d spent the last year of your life talking about marriage and having children of your own together with. You couldn't believe what you were hearing and on your anniversary at that.

“How…could you?” you said quietly, still slowly backing away.

Naruto began walking towards you, desperately trying to reach out and pull you close. You threw your hand out in front of you defensively.

“Dont.” A single tear began to run down your cheek. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y/N…I wanted to tell you in person. We just started talking about Boruto and Hima and reminiscing about the days they were born and our past and well…she thinks it’d be best for the kids if we tried working things out. Honestly, it’s left me…confused.” Naruto said quietly, being sure to avoid eye contact with you. He hated seeing you cry and hated even more being the cause of your tears.

Your mouth had dropped in complete disbelief. How could the man who says he’d love you for the rest of your life even consider working things out with the woman he’d divorced only a few years prior?! You thought, Naruto’s words replaying over and over in your head.

“Confused? What are you? 15?! One kiss and now you’re questioning our whole relationship!?” your tone of voice, shaky and beginning to crack as the tears started flowing.

“We’re planning for marriage and a baby of our own and you go and drop this bomb on me!? Does that mean nothing to you?” you asked, voice now barely above a whisper.

Naruto rubbed the back of his blonde locks nervously. “Yes! It means everything. You mean everything to me…I just want to make sure I'm doing what’s best for my kids… especially before trying to bring another one into the world.”

You scoffed, completely taken aback by the excuses he fed you. “Hm. I don't recall you being this cautious about having another baby when you started cumming in me raw for the last 6 months.” you smirked. Hurt and anger laced your tone of voice.

“Look Y/N…Please believe me when I say, I do love you - so much - but I don’t think it’s fair to drag you through this while I sort my feelings out so, I think that taking a few days apart may be best...” Naruto momentarily stayed quiet, allowing you space to process everything before proceeding.

“I- I just had to let you know, face to face - as soon as I could. Otherwise…I’d feel even more guilty.” Naruto tried his hardest to convince you, ignoring your comment altogether.

As Naruto continued on, your heart sank further and further to your ass. The lump in your throat wouldn’t go away. You felt like you were in one horrific nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. Your boyfriend had betrayed you in a way you never thought would be possible and you didn’t know where to go from here. The sadness subsided and was replaced with pure rage as your heart was ripped to a million pieces.

“Save the nice guy act. You aren’t doing me any damn favors. You’re being totally selfish and trying to relieve your glory days. This isn’t about those kids because there’s no reason you can't co parent with Hinata the way you have been for the last 3 years.” Your voice - still shaky from what you were hearing.

“Dammit, Y/N! She was my wife! She was my first love. My first everything…she gave me two beautiful children and I admit… maybe I did get caught up in the moment. Can you blame me?!” Naruto raised his voice, now losing his cool and all sensibilities.

“Fuck you. I hate you.” You spit out those words with the nastiest venom in your tone. You charged towards Naruto pushing firmly on his chest trying to guide him towards your front door. You’d heard enough.

“What about ME?! What about what I want?! You don’t think I want two beautiful children of my own? You’re disgusting, selfish and a LIAR and you need to go, NOW!” you yelled, still pushing at Naruto’s muscular chest in the direction you wanted him to go.

Despite the events of the past few hours, Naruto did have a heart and you filled it so perfectly. However, he felt like he owed it to himself and his children to figure out where to go next. Unfortunately, you were collateral damage in this series of events.

Naruto was incredibly strong and barely budged as you tried pushing him away. He just let you push and push at his chest, taking all your rage and hatred out on him. He instantly regretted what he’d just said to you and by this point, he knew he had hurt you worse than ever before and was okay letting you throw all your anger at him even when your bitter words stung him right back. He didn’t dare make the moment about himself any more than he already had.

“You hate me?...” Y/N, you don’t mean that.” Naruto said looking down at your tear stained face. Tears now forming in his own cerulean orbs. He went to cup your cheek still wanting to soothe the pain he had just caused, however, the touch of his rough hand on your face caused you to flinch. It suddenly felt foreign on your skin.

“Don’t touch me! I deserve someone who is sure about me and only me! Someone who picks me EVERY TIME. Someone who doesn’t feed me a bunch of lies and bullshit - creating false hope in my heart for the future!”

Naruto winced - now fully comprehending the rage and hurt that had bubbled up inside of you, however - you weren’t done. This man hurt you in a way that you could barely comprehend and you needed him to know.

“You walk around with this cheery nice guy act and then you go and pull a stunt like this? You and Hinata are fucking snakes who clearly deserve each other.”

You were fuming at this point and obviously saying things you didn’t mean but your heart was aching and the man who always picked up the pieces - was the one ripping them to shreds.

Stunned. Naruto’s heart sank - immediately knowing that this very well could be the end and that he was no longer welcome as he slowly backed out of the apartment - only to have the door slammed in his face. You were fully aware that he didn't have any clothes or an overnight bag with him but at that moment, you didn’t care. Seeing his face was too much to bear. Knowing that he’d just shared such intimacy with someone other than yourself evoked a heartless response from you.

Your whole body collapsed under you as you slid down against the door frame. All you could do was bury your head in your knees allowing the most guttural cries to leave your throat. You needed to let it all out. You were feeling broken and unsure of what to do next. The man you were certain you’d spend your life with was now questioning everything and you didn’t want to wait around until he figured out what he wanted. That was bullshit. You deserved more. You deserve certainty. Naruto wanted to fuck around with your emotions and you weren’t going to stand for it.

And that is how you ended up on his doorstep.

Contrary to popular belief, Sasuke Uchiha comforted you in ways many others could not.

#naruto one shot #naruto angst #naruto x reader #naruto x you #hinata #boruto #himawari #naruto fanfic #a lil fluffy #jordyn-degas ilysm babe #naruto uzumaki x reader #sasuke #naruto x y/n

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erinevrly · 2 months

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piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

“You know, this might take a while longer than expected. I’m already falling behind and we’ve barely even started,” the curly-haired teenager protests with a sheepish smile, pale blue eyes glancing up at her ever-patient teacher and best friend — B.ill B.ailey. His strawberry-tinged bangs and emerald hues capturing her attention, inviting her gaze to linger on his handsome features, distracting her from the task at hand. These piano lessons were originally her idea, an excuse for them to spend more time together without raising much suspicion, but the song choice, Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley, is entirely on Bill. He claims it’s easy, the simplest of The King’s songs, but for Erin it’s just another distraction, really, as now she can’t help but wonder if… Well, there can’t be any hidden meaning to it, right? She gently shakes her head, pushing these thoughts away in an attempt to refocus. “You say that we start with a D major chord,” she speaks slowly, as if unsure if she’s repeating the very thing he’s just mentioned correctly, “but I don’t even know what that is. You’ll have to show me.”

They’re seated in the pool of spring sunshine by the closed window in her mother’s living room. The past few days have been rather gloomy with heavy rainfalls and grim clouds, and so Erin’s thankful that there’s any sunshine at all, and by keeping the window shut and wrapping herself in a thick woolen sweater, she’s managed to create the illusion that it’s warming her. The room’s not particularly spacious, with a good deal of space taken up by the grand piano and a good deal more by a large, leather sofa and two recliners, but at least it’s cozy. Unlike any room at Billy’s house. It’s dominated by earthy color schemes, big, leafy plants and two mushroom-shaped lamps (her mother’s favorite), even the patterned wallpaper only serves to sprinkle a bit of charm to the place. Though, maybe it’s just the effect this boy has on her — everything seems more beautiful and magical when he’s around. “So… a D,” she lets him press her thumb against one of the white keys, her other fingers following, brushing against the instrument and creating a small symphony of not-so-sweet sounds, “F sharp and A?” She furrows her dark brows and lets out a shy giggle, embarrassed by her evident inability to repeat the seemingly simple combination. “Sounds less harsh when you do it.” Her hand slips from underneath his, her fingers finding their way on top of his, the butterflies in her belly dancing. “Do it again,” she asks sweetly, struggling to refrain from looking into these gorgeous eyes of his and losing herself.

Whenever Billy’s larger hand touches her smaller one, gently spreading her ring-clad fingers and guiding them to the right keys, a shiver runs up her spine and her face flushes a deep red. She could have asked her father to teach her. She could have asked her mother to find her a professional music teacher, not a delinquent from round the block, but again… She doesn’t care about learning quite as much as she cares about spending time with the Bailey kid. Standing at the kitchen threshold, watching the two with a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon in hand, Venetia’s figured as much herself — after all, her daughter’s seventeen and so maybe she should be happy that she’s finally developed a serious crush, but God does she wish Erin’s affections were directed toward someone else… That sweet boy who lives just down the street and always wants to hang out with her, whose father’s a high-ranking police officer. Or that dark-haired kid who’s a straight A student and plans on becoming a lawyer one day. Or that boy from California, her best friend’s son who’s a bit strange and surely smokes pot occasionally, but at least doesn’t have a criminal record. She shakes her head, telling herself teenage crushes come and go, and goes back to pouring batter into cupcake tins. “Kids, you better start wrapping things up! The first batch’s almost ready!”

#rcsechild #teen verse.#thanks for always sending me memes <3 i have sm fun creating these different scenarios :)

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yoshibb · 3 years

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Hi! Little something different from usual. I saw the @shepherds-of-haven summer prompt list and I decided to give it a try. Shepherds of Haven is a WIP interactive fiction and it has been such a huge comfort read for me, I highly recommend it! While I'm in love with all the characters, my favorite RO is Chase, so this story is for the prompt sleep with my F!MCAerynXChase. I did my best to keep everything as accurate as possible character and lore wise >.< Thanks for reading! Blinding Light Chase can't sleep. The concept itself isn't disturbing. He's gone plenty a night without a wink of shut-eye. But to not be able to, to have his thoughts jumbled, his leg bouncing, it's unusual. He stretches his fingers in front of him, flexing them soundlessly in the dark like he can find the answer in the lines of his palms.

Something is wrong.

He sits up, not bothering to find a light, his eyes long adjusted to the dark. There are still sounds coming from the Shepherds' Compound, but it's clear that the majority of the occupants have turned in. He doesn't always stay on grounds, but he's been making more exceptions recently for whatever reason.

There's no point in trying to join them in their well deserved rest. He rolls out of bed, slipping into an outfit suitable for traversing the city's rooftops. If his mind refuses to be silent then he might as well occupy it before it decides to turn to more... uncomfortable subjects.

He climbs out onto the rooftop and pauses. An irresistible urge to check on Aeryn tugs at him. For a moment he considers ignoring it. It's late, she needs her rest more than anyone and despite his stealth there is always the small chance he could wake her. But like most forces involving Aeryn, it's less of a tug and more of a compulsion. He spins around, lightly stepping to her bedroom window. He starts to undo the lock but finds it already open. He smiles to himself, forgetting that she'd stopped bothering to latch it after he'd picked it so many times.

She never asks him 'why he never uses the door' like a normal person would or scolds him for invading her privacy outside a brief huff of annoyance. It is strangely difficult to get under her skin, but a challenge he's taken to whole-heartedly.

However, though the space inside is dark, the bed is empty. His heart trembles with an ominous thump. He shakes his head, scolding himself. There are plenty of explanations for this. His eyes drift about the room to take in what's missing. Most notably her sword that usually rests against her nightstand. She normally leaves it close enough to grab in case of danger. The bed is made and her uniform is gone.

He should check the patrol schedule.

What are you doing?

He stutter steps when he reaches the low lights of the hallway. What is he doing? He should be picking the lock on some unsuspecting noble's balcony by now. And yet nothing stopped him from progressing towards the large board downstairs.

The lamps provide just enough light for him to read. Letters which were once incomprehensible now make perfect sense thanks to Aeryn's tutoring. His smile lengthens as her name jumps out at him. He even knows the route she's covering. Not the best part of Haven, but not the worst. He has nothing to worry about.

He blinks and looks down. He plants his hand on his disobedient limb, physically stopping his right leg from bouncing. He studies it like it's a mystical object rather than a part of his body. His eyes slide up to Aeryn's name again, the discontent tug now like a rope around his wrist, dragging him to where she should be.

He was going to do a little sightseeing anyway, what would the harm be in 'bumping' into her?

Soon enough he is outside, climbing the walls and out into the streets of Haven. Darting into the first alley, he bounces off the wall and uses his momentum to reach the ledge, pulling himself up onto the roof without any trouble. The air is cool, comfortably so. The wind barely provides any resistance as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

Normally, he'd take in the sights, watch for a potential target, enjoy the rush of adrenaline. It's the perfect night for a sprint, but his mind is clouded by the hunt. He scans the streets below, empty besides the rare drunkard or overworked laborer.

Until he finally sees her, long golden honey hair that somehow still shimmers under insufficient light. A presence that always seems to blind him the minute she catches his gaze.

His heart beats against its cage, his smile stretching until his cheeks hurt. His sunshine, his Aeryn.

He catches himself, pressing a hand against his mouth as a cold shiver courses through him. No, not his. Free to come and go as she pleased. In and out of his bed, to be with whoever she wanted. Just as he is.

Regaining control of himself he looks down again, studying the sway of her hips and the grace of her walk. It's enough to ignite a flame inside his core that he's eager to chase. A smirk smooths its way across his lips. It would be a matter of convincing her to abandon her post, but she's never turned him down before.

He skips over one more roof and leaps down silently, a building's distance between them. The first time he'd snuck up on her like this, she'd nearly taken his head from his shoulders. He had the reflexes to dodge her if he needed to, but she stopped her stroke before it nicked his throat. She'd sighed and asked him not to do it again. He'd simply smiled and stepped closer to her, promising nothing.

He'd repeated his stunt again with similar results but never in the dead of night. A thrill weaves through him as he approaches her, his tongue dancing out over his lower lip.

And then she turns.

Sharply, west, down a dark alley. The move startles him and unlike his normal marks, he trails her blindly.

An arm shoots out and cuts off his progress, causing him to stumble to a stop. Her other arm grazes against his back, effectively caging him in.

"Chase," Aeryn says in a scolding yet fond manner.

"It appears you've caught me, Captain," he reclines against the brick wall between the barrier of her arms, a lazy smile painting his lips. "So what do you plan to do with me?" Aeryn shakes her head.

"That's it? No tricks? You're just giving up? I don't believe it." Her eyes dance across his form and he's more than happy to allow it.

"I'm finding this position more than agreeable at the moment, but we'll see how things play out, sunshine." He propels himself forward from his lounging position. He pauses, their similar heights allowing him to nearly brush his lips against hers. To her credit she doesn't flinch, keeping her arms fixed on either side of him. He tilts his head in playful innocence. "I can offer a bribe, but I've heard you are an honest sort."

Aeryn hums unable to stop her own smile from echoing his, "I may be open to a different sort of bribe."

He chuckles low in his throat, the flicker of heat growing into a furnace. He nearly closes the distance, but he manages to draw back. He wants to see the thirst in her eyes first. The inescapable longing he's felt all night.

Instead, he's met with her concern. It catches him off guard, and he struggles to keep his nonchalant grin in place. "Aeryn?"

She catches his chin in her fingers and ignites a magelight with her other hand. He swallows tightly as she examines his face like a healer would.

"Your skin is pale," she says.

"Just a trick of the light. Nothing worth worrying yourself over." He gently tries to push her hand away. But she's insistent, thumb tracing his bottom lip, faintly cracked beneath her touch.

"You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been sleeping?" She chides him. He tries to defend himself, but he's too distracted by the way her fingers glide across his cheek and lightly stroking his eyelashes. His eyelids flutter, and his body shivers under her featherlight caresses. Soft and caring and so completely foreign. He leans into her palm, lowering his guard for just a moment.

And she doesn't waste it.

She leans in and presses a tender kiss to the curve of his jaw. Wrapping her arms around him, she folds their bodies together until the two of them become intimately one. He turns his head into the crook of her neck, deeply inhaling the heady scent of sage. He cards his fingers into her long hair, enjoying the feel of it as it slides through the gaps of his fingers.

And it's enough. He allows himself to sink further until he's drowning in her embrace. Where no one can touch him, nothing can ever hurt him again, as long as she has him. She lays butterfly kisses on his forehead and each of his eyelids before releasing him. He very nearly clings to her but forces himself to let go, knees weak as he falls against the wall. She holds his hand for a moment longer, squeezing it tightly.

"Go to bed, please. For me? I'll be back soon." She promises, her grip slipping from his.

Instead of letting him disagree, she kisses him softly good night, her lips offering no more than a caress. He stands frozen for a moment, watching her disappear around the corner. As if leaving is so simple.

Confusion muddles his mind as he slides down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud. He stares at his hand, still tingling from her touch. Her scent still lingering on his clothes.

He starts to get up, ready to continue on with his plans for the night only for his limbs to betray him. He stumbles against the tidal wave of exhaustion. It suddenly feels as if he could sleep for days. He searches for the cure for his insomnia and finds her further down the road. His heart soars to life again. And then a deep fear creeps up his spine.

What's come over me?

#shepherds of haven #shepherds summer 2021 #chase trinaeste #hoping I did this man justice <3

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monicashipslokius · 3 years

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Soulmates, Actually Pt 4

(read part 1/part 2/part 3)

A sharp, shrill alarm blares before the sun has even risen, rousing Loki from a perfect slumber. Loki groans their disgust, but it’s muffled in the meat of Mobius’s shoulder.

“Easy, sunshine,” Mobius says, and the infernal man is actually trying to move.

Loki grumbles louder. Mobius, chuckling, eases Loki away from him and onto the pillow instead. It’s not the same - too soft and not nearly warm enough. Loki clings tighter around Mobius’s waist in retaliation.

“We talked about this,” Mobius says. “I have to go back to work today.”

Loki huffs in frustration as they let Mobius remove their hold and lower their arms to the bed. The pillow is a poor replacement.

For a moment, Mobius brushes Loki’s hair back away from their face. His fingers linger, feather-light, at the edge of Loki’s cheekbone. Too soon, the touch is gone.

“I’ll be back at six pm sharp.”

Loki rolls onto Mobius’s side of the bed and falls asleep again.

When they awaken, the sun is bright and the sheets are cool. Loki’s stomach rumbles. They groan as they pull themself out of bed and finally face the day.

The long, lonely day.

A week has passed since Thor’s departure - a week of Loki and Mobius redecorating and cuddling and learning each other.

They bought six plants of varying sizes, new drapes the color of the ocean, and a soft bedspread to match. Mobius fixed up the broken bathroom door, and Loki hung a few new art pieces and string lights.

The La-Z-Boy they arranged in front of a small boxy television set became a fast favorite.

“What did I tell you?” Mobius said the first time Loki relaxed deeply into the recliner. “It’s the perfect throne.”

Mobius may not understand color palettes, but the man knows comfort.

“It will do for now,” Loki told him, not wanting to give too much away.

Mobius’s smile never wavered. “Mmhm.”

Now, Loki drags themself to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Ten minutes later, they are perched on the recliner, plate on their lap, watching soap operas on television.

Claudio is surprised to find that his fiance Regina’s twin sister Georgina has been behind all of his misfortune, but the plot twist has Loki rolling their eyes.

“Amateurs.” Loki bites into an apple slice.

The hours tick by. Loki watches the anchor-shaped clock that hangs in the kitchen - much of their new decor has an ocean theme. But the more Loki watches the clock, the slower time seems to pass.

Time flew by with Mobius here. But without him...

After the soap operas, the courtroom shows begin. And then the news programs. Loki walks laps around the apartment while listening to the weather forecast for the third time - partly cloudy with a 30% chance of rain. The cost of gasoline is skyrocketing. The local high school football team might make county finals, whatever that means.

At quarter to six, Loki thanks the cosmos. Finally. Mobius will be home and put an end to this monotony.

Loki cleans up a bit, dusting some crumbs off the arms of the recliner. They place the plates in the sink.

Then, because they don’t want to appear too eager, they grab a book and stretch out on the bed.

Six o’clock comes and goes. Mobius does not arrive.

By seven, Loki is annoyed.

By eight, they are angry.

By ten, they are concerned.

Dubuque seems relatively safe. And Mobius has lived here alone for a long time before Loki.

But Loki has enemies. Many, many enemies. All of whom would be more than happy to get their hands on their soulmate.

Mobius is probably fine.

But what if he’s not?

At eleven, they are examining the photo of his office building that Mobius keeps on the dresser. Mobius had taken them to see it in the past week, though they hadn’t gone inside. It wasn’t too far a walk, if they recall. Loki is certain that they could find it again, even in darkness.

So they change into a black suit and hurry out the door. The Dubuque city streets are barren this time of night. Loki encounters no one on their trek to the office - until they barge through the front door and are stopped by a security guard.

Loki promised Mobius that they would not hurt anyone, so instead they create a projection of themself to distract the guard while they themself head toward the elevators. Following the signs for the data analytics department, they ride the elevator to the fourth floor.

They step off the elevator into a darkened field of cubicles. Each is the same - small desk, computer, and chair. All are empty. But Loki isn’t alone here. They follow a light through the cubicle maze and come to one that is occupied.

Mobius has a foot-high pile of files on his desk. He’s tapping at his computer keyboard with the index finger of each hand and peering at the small monitor.

“Mobius?”

Mobius jumps, then clutches his chest. He exhales when he sees Loki standing in the opening of his 3ft x 4ft cell. “Give a guy a warning next time.” He smiles. “But it’s good to see you. How’d you get here? Security let you in?”

Loki only frowns at him. “You said you’d be back at six.”

Mobius’s smile loses some of its brightness. “I have to work a little late. Next time we go out, we’ll get you a phone so I can call and let you know -”

“’A little late?’ Mobius, it’s been hours. I thought you were...” They won’t give name to their truest fears. That Mobius had been kidnapped or killed. Or perhaps that he had finally seen the true darkness in Loki and left of his own free will.

Mobius shakes his head. “Come on, Loki. It hasn’t been that long. It’s only...” He glances at his monitor. “Midnight? That can’t be right.”

“I assure you that is accurate.”

Mobius sits back in his squeaking chair, and rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry...” He releases a drawn out sigh and his whole body droops. “Boss was cheesed that I bailed on the conference. I have a lot of work to make up.”

The stack of folders towers over Mobius’s slouched shoulders.

“Would it helped if I -”

“You can’t kill him,” Mobius says.

Loki closes their mouth. Tries again. “He needn’t be killed. I could simply... frighten him.”

Mobius shoots Loki a flat look.

“Fine,” Loki says, disappointed. “But what is your intention? To stay here all night?”

Mobius side-eyes the folder mountain. “I’m going to have to.”

“No.”

Mobius sighs. “Loki -”

“This is a place of employment, Mobius, not a living space.”

“It’s my own fault. I should have come back sooner.” He rubs at the corner of one eye. “Maybe I should have stayed at the conference.”

The words stab Loki between the ribs.

“Magicking away was not my best idea,” Mobius says. “I shouldn’t have run from my responsibilities. I’ll never catch up on this work.”

More stabs, a thousand tiny cuts.

“So you regret everything,” Loki says, fighting hard to keep the hurt from their voice. They are disappointed by their own surprise, their own pain. They had thought Mobius was different. They should have known.

Thor was wrong when he said no one could hold Loki’s interest. It was the other way around. Loki protected themself by leaving before the other could get bored. They should have done that here.

But they thought...

Mobius is supposed to be their perfect match.

“No, hey,” Mobius jumps from his chair. That’s all it takes to put him in Loki’s space. Loki takes a step back. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t regret everything, just some things.”

“You regret coming with me when we escaped.”

“N-no,” he says, but not without hesitation.

“You could have stayed. They weren’t chasing you. You could have told them I brainwashed you and gone on with your day.”

“That’s not what I��m saying.” The bags are heavy under Mobius’s eyes. He’s tired, Loki knows that - but Loki’s tired too. Sitting, waiting, stressing.

The room sparks with tension. Loki’s pain festers under their skin.

And Mobius regrets.

Loki takes a breath, searching for calm. For understanding. For their soulmate. “Come home,” they say, “And we can continue talking in the morning.”

Mobius exhales again, too sharp. He places his hands on his hips and looks at that damned pile of folders again. “I can’t go anywhere.”

“Mobius -”

“This is my life, Loki,” Mobius tells him. “Data analysis is my life. You have to understand that.”

Something dark in Loki’s chest snaps clean in half. “This is your life. This.” They wave a hand around. “This tiny box in a sea of tiny boxes. Where everyone else has left you here in the dark. Where your employer buries you under papers so deep that you cannot find your way out of them. Is all this extra work truly because you left the conference? How often would you work late before I arrived?”

Mobius looks away, and Loki knows they’re right. The answer, too often.

“Are you at least receiving additional benefits for all this extra time spent here?”

Mobius still won’t look at them.

“They are taking advantage of you, of your loyalty, and you are letting them.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mobius snaps, the sharpest he’s ever spoken to Loki.

Loki stands taller. They’re used to anger, to cutting words, to pain - more than they were ever used to kindness.

“I am trying to protect you,” Loki says.

“I don’t need protection from my job.”

For one wild moment, Loki thinks of grabbing those folders and tossing them across the room. They dream of throwing Mobius over their shoulder and saving them from this drab place and its tan carpet and eggshell walls.

Instead, they insist, “No, you do. You owned three photos when I first met you: one of your parents, one of a jetski, and one of this office. Can you not see how depressing that is?”

Mobius face hardens.

“You are meant for better things than this. When was the last time you even rode a jetski? Or had fun of any kind?”

“I’m an adult. I don’t need fun.”

“That is absurd.”

Mobius’s brows draw together. “Listen, not all of us could be born into royalty, and just go around doing whatever we want all the time.”

Born into royalty. A fresh sting, not one Mobius could know would hit so hard. But it does all the same. Loki steps backward from the force of it.

Mobius unhooks his arms. “Loki -”

Loki shakes their head. Mobius watches them, confusion replacing frustration, followed quickly by concern. He lifts his hand, but Loki steps back again, further out of reach.

“It’s fine,” Loki says, lying. “Stay as long as you like.” They bury the pain down deep. It’s familiar, an old, hated friend. “I wouldn’t dare dream of treading on your unhappiness.”

Mobius drops his hand. “I am happy. I am perfectly happy.”

“Good,” Loki says.

“Great,” Mobius says.

“Wonderful.”

“Fantastic.”

They stare hard at each other. Loki refuses to look away first.

When Mobius finally does, turning back to his cubicle and his chair and the stack of folders, disappointment floods through Loki.

They don’t wait to be dismissed, they turn and leave on their own.

Loki does not return to the apartment. Instead, they walk and they walk and they walk. They almost hope to be accosted by vagrants, so as to release some restless energy in a fight, but they see no one. They reach a river and follow it into a forest.

They sit along the riverbank and watch the sunlight crest over the trees.

Maybe they shouldn’t have surrendered the scepter. With the tesseract, they could have traveled anywhere. Now they are limited to the distance of their own two legs. Not that they would know where to go anyway.

The only place they want to be is back at the apartment with Mobius.

It’s evening when they eventually make their way back there. Their stomach growls, and they’re thirsty and tired. With some food and a good night’s rest, perhaps they could leave again with a plan this time. Hire a taxi to an airport and take a plane. Find a city of decadence and lose themself for a few decades.

They don’t expect Mobius to be home. It’s only shortly after seven, far too early for his beloved late nights. Yet as they place the key into the lock and start to turn, they barely have time to remove it before being yanked forward into the apartment and into a crushing embrace.

“Don’t leave me,” Mobius says. His arms are sure around Loki’s waist. His nose is buried in the crook of Loki’s neck and shoulder. His words are muffled by Loki’s forest-dirty suit coat. “I’m not happy. I haven’t been in a long time. Not until you. And not without you.”

Loki sags into his arms, and he holds tighter, keeping Loki upright. Keeping them safe. They close their eyes and let the warmth of Mobius’s body chase away the chill of the Iowa evening air.

“You scared the hell outta me,” Mobius says, voice shaky. “I looked for you everywhere, but I kept checking here. I kept hoping you’d come back. I’m so sorry.” Mobius leans back. He reaches up and cups Loki’s face between his palms. Gently, he rubs his thumbs over Loki’s cheekbones. “I want to be good for you.”

“How could you think you’re not?”

Regret shines in Mobius’s eyes now, more than it ever did during their argument. “I hurt you. I don’t want to ever do that again.”

Loki places their hand over one of Mobius’s on their face. “I hurt you, too, I suspect.”

“No, everything you said was right.” He swallows. “Work’s all I had for so long, and when I was back there, and they started piling it on... Everyone else in that office has always had someone, so before I would take on the extra work myself. It was better than coming home alone. It’s a hard habit to break. Loki, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to do this.” But Loki still wants to hear it. Each of Mobius’s words are a balm over their pain. Mobius keeps going. He doesn’t even stop for breath.

“I lashed out at you, and I only did that because you were right. And I didn’t want to hear it. But then you were gone.”

“I’m here,” Loki says. “I’m here now.”

“I am a lousy soulmate.” Mobius smiles, but it’s too soft, too sad. “After so long alone, I don’t think that I know how to be with somebody. But I want to learn. I want to deserve this, with you.”

“Mobius,” Loki says, and their mending heart threatens to break again. “I am no great prize.”

Mobius starts to laugh. “I’m trying to be serious, Loki.”

“I am too,” Loki says, and whatever Mobius sees on their face stops the laughter. Loki studies the softness in Mobius’s gaze, the adoration, the great care, memorizing as much as they can, in case this is the last time they see it. “I’m a monster.”

Mobius, voice flat and unamused, says, “Be serious.”

“I was not born to royalty. Not like you think,” Loki says and waits. Dread rolls over them in waves, but Mobius does not react more than a slight cant of his head. “I’m not...” It would be easier to show him, but Loki can’t. If they do, Mobius will change all of his sweet words. He won’t stand to share this small apartment with them any longer, and Loki will be back on that riverside. “How you see me is not... how I am.”

Mobius is patient. Mobius waits. Maybe Loki wasn’t wrong about Mobius after all. Maybe Mobius, like them, is imperfect and a little afraid but trying.

Slowly, Loki pulls Mobius’s hands from their face so as not to burn him with the cold of their skin as they lift the glamour that hides their Jotunn form.

They want to look away, to hide from the horror they are sure to see on Mobius’s face, but simultaneously are too desperate to see any and every reaction.

Mobius’s eyes grow wide. His lips part. He blinks a few times.

“Loki,” Mobius says, and Loki braces for fresh heartache. But then he smiles, real and true and bright, a lighthouse in a lifetime of hurt. “Blue like the ocean.” The adoration never dims from his eyes. “You are beautiful.”

Mobius insists he doesn’t care, but Loki only feels comfortable again with their glamour restored.

“Either way,” Mobius says, and sends Loki off to the bathroom to shower and change. “I’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re done.”

When Loki leaves the tiny bathroom in their silk pajamas, they find the small two-person table lit by candlelight. Mobius stands beside it, wearing one of the dark suits Loki picked out for him at the store, with a deep green tie that’s slightly askew.

“What’s all this?” Loki asks.

“I know we’re soulmates, and our fates are destined and everything,” Mobius says, tugging at his collar. A bit of pink dusts his cheeks. “But some things should be done the old fashioned way. I want to win your heart, so I thought...” He clears his throat. “I want to wine and dine you. Properly.”

“Ah.” Loki slides further into the room, heart lighter than it’s been in the past forty-eight hours. All the lingering hurts are mended. And Mobius looks delectable in that suit, just as Loki thought he would. Loki strides right up to him, reaches out, and adjusts his tie. “You are attempting to seduce me.”

Mobius’s cheeks redden. He glances away for the briefest of moments before his eyes return to Loki’s face.

“You are everything a guy could want,” Mobius says. “More than I ever dreamed.”

Loki finishes fixing Mobius’s tie, but leaves their hands flat on Mobius’s chest. Mobius takes one and brings it to his mouth. He places a kiss to Loki’s palm.

Loki shivers, but not from any cold.

“Loki,” Mobius says, giving so much weight to the name - things unspoken, maybe not ready to be said, but are known - so known, and ready to be shown.

Mobius leans, and Loki stays very still, waiting, wanting but so, so afraid.

Mobius stops just out of reach. His breath hot on Loki’s lips, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Loki swallows all their fear and whispers, “Please.”

Mobius closes the distance and presses their lips together.

Fireworks ignite in Loki’s chest. Their heart thunders. Their hands itch for more, so they grab Mobius by the shoulders and hold, clinging, ruining the new suit and not caring at all.

Mobius cups Loki’s jawline, guiding them closer, tilting gently, positioning Loki just as he wants them. Loki goes willingly, opening their mouth as Mobius licks his way inside.

They should have done this long ago. They should do this all the time. This should never, ever stop.

Loki moans as Mobius’s fingers comb into their hair. Mobius breaks for air, tilts his head, and comes back for more. Loki holds Mobius so close, they are certain their heart beats straight into Mobius’s chest.

It’s perfect, passion incarnate, and Loki wants so much that they -

Loki’s stomach growls. Loudly.

Mobius smiles against Loki’s lips.

Loki groans as Mobius plants one more soft kiss and pulls away.

“Wining and dining time,” he says with a wink.

Loki is both endeared and annoyed. “I will have more of this.” His stomach grumbles again. “After dinner.”

Loki doesn’t miss the flush of Mobius’s cheeks, even as his easy smile returns. “It would be my absolute pleasure, and I mean that.”

#i wrote this #lokius #wowki #loki x mobius #soulmate au #part 4 of 5 theoretically though the list of scenes i want gets longer every chapter oops #might be 4 of 6 #anyway #fighting cw #making up #that jotunn scene that must be in every long fic #first kiss #i fit a lot in here haha #OH! also #long fic #be warned if you click the read more #ao3 link tomorrow prolly #this one hits a little different than the rest #i really wanted to deal with mobius's workaholism

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Family Reunion

Pairing: Javier Peña /Reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, probably inaccurate Spanish, but otherwise none! This is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Returning home is hard, but with you by Javier’s side, he can face anything. Including a Peña family reunion.

“I’m really not sure about this.”

You laughed, putting a hand on top of his and watching the Texas countryside pass you by. “Javi, it’s two days. What could possibly go wrong?”

Javier sighed. “Ay dios míos, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

The Peña family ranch was all set up for the reunion, and for the first time in a long time, Javier was actually able to go. He pulled up the driveway, face already scrunching as three women rushed out and stood eagerly on the edge of the driveway. “Here we go.”

Immediately, as soon as Javier’s feet hit the pavement, the three women were upon him, hugging and squealing that they’d missed him. You grinned, stepping out of the car and simply watching as Javier tried to brush off his sister’s affection.

Finally, once they were all done greeting Javier, he pulled you close to his side. “These are my older sisters, Maria, Cynthia, and Patricia.”

You smiled. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Cynthia bounded back into the house, apparently eager to tell everyone Javier was home. Maria, who you were pretty sure was the oldest, helped you and Javier grab your bags and take them inside. While Javier got lost in the sea of family members who hadn’t seen him in a decade, you found near silence in Javier’s old bedroom, which was where you two would be sleeping.

“Y’know, Mamá couldn’t believe it when he called home to say he got married,” Maria said, setting Javier’s bag on his bed. “Our little Javi, all grown up and married.”

You put your bag down next to Javier’s. “Is he the youngest?”

“Nah,” Maria said, pointing to a framed photo on Javier’s nightstand. “Melissa and Lori are both younger than him.”

Examining the photo, you suppressed a grin. “He’s the only boy?”

Maria’s Cheshire grin grew. “Yeah.”

An unfamiliar woman poked her head into the room. “Is this Javi’s spouse?”

You nodded.

“Ah!” The woman pulled you into a tight hug. “Hi! I’m Melissa!”

“Lissa!” Javier said, and Melissa put you down with a pout. “Bájalos, ahora.”

Another call of Melissa’s name, and she was racing out of the room with a cheerful laugh, Maria hot on her heels.

Javier fell onto the bed, and you pulled the door shut, falling next to him. “Home sweet home,” he groaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

You rolled over and ended up laying on Javier’s chest, resting your ear on his collarbones. “I like it,” you said softly.

After a few minutes of simply enjoying each other’s company, a loud shout echoed through the house, disrupting your peace. “Lori’s home!”

The house began to bustle, but you stayed on top of Javier, keeping him trapped. He didn’t seem to mind, and actually wound an arm around your back to keep you secure. Voices filtered around you, but they were fuzzy, like they were underwater or behind a closed door.

Finally, someone opened the door to Javier’s bedroom. “Hijo?”

“Si mamá?”

Javier’s mother looked at you on top of him and smiled. “Lori is home. Do you want to say hello?”

Javier sighed, and you laughed as you were lifted up as he breathed in. “Yeah, I’ll come say hi.”

He stood, and you stood with him. “Come on. You’ll like Lori.”

Lori, if you remembered correctly, was the youngest and the most mature. She looked damn near identical to Javier, despite her feminine features and the fact that she was clearly younger.

“Ah, you must be Javi’s spouse!” She said, shaking your hand. “Damn, Javi really knows how to pick them!”

You laughed. “Thank you, but I think I picked him.”

Lori smiled. “Of course. C’mon! Can you bake?”

Turned out, Lori needed help with the pies, and you and her spent almost half an hour making various pie crusts and fillings. Javier tried to help for a few minutes, but he got dragged off to help somewhere else. You waved as he went, following one of the younger cousins.

“So, how was Columbia?” Lori asked, mixing another apple pie mix in a glass bowl.

You took a breath, continuing to knead lest your emotions get the better of you. “Hard,” you finally admitted. “Very hard. I wasn’t even in the thick of the fighting most times, but it was harder than anything I’ve ever done. We had to move four times, and we caught bombs in Javi’s car on two separate occasions. It was a good day if no one shot at him, and then there was all that shit with Los Pepes.”

“Oh I heard about that,” Lori said sadly, grabbing another pie pan. “That must’ve been hell for him, not being there when they finally put a bullet in Escobar.”

“Steve called us immediately,” you said. “The body was still warm, I don’t think the news knew yet. But we did. Javier cried.”

Lori shrugged. “What’s he gonna do now?”

You looked around, making sure the kitchen was empty. “Going back.”

“What?”

You nodded. “They’re sending us back, something about the Cali cartel? I dunno, but apparently it’s big and it’s a problem. They want Javi because, well, he’s had connections with those people.”

“Oh,” Lori breathed, passing the pie to you so you could lattice it. “That’s awful.”

“That’s government work,” you said with a sigh.

Before Lori could speak again, Javier came back with two men, one of whom put an arm around Lori’s waist.

“David, this is Javier’s spouse,” Lori said, smiling as the man kissed her cheek. “The one who was working with the DEA.”

David nodded to you. “Pleasure. I’d shake your hand, but,”

You grinned, holding up your pie crust covered hands. “I’ll spare you the feeling.”

“And this is my cousin Chris,” Javier said, leaning on the counter and watching you expertly lattice the pie in front of you. “How many of those are you making?”

“Three apple, two cherry, one pecan for Cynthia, one blueberry, and a peach pie for Javi.”

Javier lit up. “I thought you weren’t making a peach pie!”

Lori laughed. “Beth brought Georgia peaches, so I had to.”

Chris opened the oven, examining the pies. “Damn, these look divine.”

“Off,” Lori said, giving Chris’s hands a light smack with a wooden spoon. “These are for dessert!”

Once you were finally done and the pies only had to be baked, you were able to wash your hands and sit on the couch. Javier sat next to you, along with a few aunts and uncles you didn’t know. Javier’s father sat in a recliner, his mother sat on a loveseat, and beside her sat a wonderful old woman who you quickly learned was Javier’s grandmother. You closed your eyes, leaning against Javier’s shoulder and dozing a bit. You didn’t fall asleep, but damn you wanted to. Conversation filtered around you, but you didn’t pay much attention.

People came and went, and eventually, everyone was moving outside. Javier nudged you to awareness and you blinked blearily in the Texas sunlight as you followed him outside.

“Veteran DEA agent, bothered by a bit of sunshine,” Javier teased, handing you his aviators. “Ain’t you a sight.”

You huffed at him. “Don’t make me regret saying yes to marrying you,” you said, waving to Patricia and Melissa.

Lunch was a happy affair. You sat beside your husband, chatting eagerly with some of his cousins. His sisters sat with you, happily telling you stories about Javier that made him turn red and you bend over with laughter. Finally, once they’d had their fun embarrassing him, Cynthia, Maria, and Lori all left to go oversee some game the young cousins were playing. Melissa leaned over the table and grinned, Patricia already rolling her eyes.

“Javi,” she said sweetly, fluttering her eyes. “Have you taken Bella out yet?”

“Bella?” You asked, seeing Javier copy Patricia’s eye roll. “Who’s Bella?”

Melissa pointed to the stables that the ranch had. “Javi’s horse. She’s getting old, but she still runs.”

“She’s thirteen,” Javier said. “Not old.”

Patricia smiled. “Javi managed to get her off a man trying to sell her for meat,” she explained to you. “Right up until the day he left for Columbia, she was his pride and joy. Brought her back basically from the dead.”

You tried to imagine Javier caring deeply about a horse, deeply enough to save her. Unsurprisingly, the thought came easy. “Bella, it’s a beautiful name.”

“Short for Belladonna,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

The ground was warm beneath your feet, still bare because you hadn’t had time to put shoes on before lunch. The Peña stables didn’t have many horses, maybe three or four. Right at the end was a stall painted with gorgeously intricate vines and flowers, the belladonna plant. Javier leaned over the door, whistling.

The effect was almost immediate. He was shoved from the door, a black horse pushing him out and butting against his body, searching him.

“Bella!” He said happily, scratching behind Bella’s swiveling ears. “Hello! Did you miss me?”

Bella snorted.

“I know, I missed you too,” Javier said, lost in his own little world. “Hey, guess what! I got married. Mhm, I think they’re perfect too.”

You smiled, leaning against the wall and watching Javier talk to Bella. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll take you on a ride.”

He introduced you to another horse, Bella’s neighbor Aristotle. Aristotle was well behaved, and within no time, you were sitting in the saddle and following Javier down a trail. Aristotle was an easy ride, and it helped that you had some prior riding knowledge. Javier, however, was leagues above you, riding as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Which you supposed he had.

“The ranch is huge,” Javier said, leading you through a section of forest. “But even if it wasn’t, we’re all good friends with the neighbors, and they don’t mind when we ride on their land.”

You left the forest and entered a large field that stretched on for miles, a wooden fence bisecting the field. “Is that where the neighbor’s property starts?” You asked, pulling Aristotle to a stop on the edge of the woods.

“That’s still ours,” Javier said. “Technically the neighbor’s land starts at the end of the field on the other side of the fence, but the fence was there when we bought the land and no one wants to take it down.”

You nodded. “How far is it back to the ranch?”

Javier looked at you, confused. “Twenty minutes at a steady trot, maybe thirty at a walk, why?”

Pushing Javier’s aviators up your nose and wiggling in the saddle, you grinned. “Over the fence, race you back!”

Just like that, you were off. Aristotle seemed just as joyful as you as you leapt the fence with ease, using what little riding knowledge you had. Javier caught on to your game and followed suit, laughing as Bella and Aristotle raced side by side.

The trail was likely too dangerous to keep this pace at, but if you weren’t mistaken, you could wind around the forest, staying at your pace. Abandoning Javier at the path, you cut a sharp turn, feeling the wind on your skin as you laughed.

True to your thoughts, within ten minutes, you were coming up on the ranch with no Javier in sight. Jumping the fence yet again into the riding ring, you pulled Aristotle to a stop, jumping down and stroking his nose.

Maria and Cynthia ran up to you as you straightened your shirt. “What happened?”

The sound of hooves alerted you to the return of your husband. “Javier and I went for a ride. I challenged him to a race home. He lost.”

Javier stopped Bella beside you, looking you up and down as he slid out of his saddle. “That was some damn impressive riding,” he said. “Congrats.”

You grinned. “C’mon, let’s put these two away and relax.”

Of course, in the Peña house, there was no such thing as relaxing. You and Javier were halfway to the porch when Javier was hit in the back with a water balloon. He turned, back dripping. Melissa and Patricia both pointed at each other, barely containing their laughter.

“Oh hell no!” Javier said, taking off his shoes and smiling. “Get back here!”

He chased after his sisters, both of which ran away, shrieking with laughter. You sat on the porch swing, watching Javier grab a water balloon and throw it. His aim was off, so instead of hitting Patricia, he hit Maria, who immediately joined the fight as well. Within minutes, all six Peña kids were throwing water balloons at each other and laughing. It was such an innocent sight, and it made you sigh. How long would you be in Columbia fighting the Cali Cartel? When would Javier get a chance to laugh like this again?

A shriek pulled you from your thoughts as Maria took control of a garden hose and began to aim it mostly at Javier, catching Lori and Cynthia in the process of soaking her brother. Javier ducked away from the hose spray, and Melissa snuck around Maria’s back and stood on the hose. It was a simple trick, but one Maria fell for, looking into the hose and immediately getting a face full of water.

“Niños!” Javier’s mother yelled, coming out of the house. “Que estás haciendo?”

“Jugando, Mamá!” Javier called, sitting up in the grass from where he’d been play wrestling with Cynthia, entirely soaked and decently muddy. “Melissa lo inició.”

“Did not!”

“Did to!”

“Niños!” Javier’s mother said again, trying to cut the childish bickering off. “Lavarse!”

“Si Mamá!” The chorus of six voices called back. Javier was up first, shaking like a wet dog and trotting over to the house, followed by his sisters.

Ten minutes later, a significantly cleaner Javier was sitting next to you, his hair still wet and in completely different clothes. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly, watching the large extended family gather for dinner.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

Javier took your hands. “You only ever use that tone when something is really wrong. What is it?”

You shrugged. “Just wondering when we’ll be back here. Will it be years, like last time?”

“Not if I can help it,” Javier said softly. “Hey, look at me cariño. This won’t be like last time, okay? I swear it. We’ll be home soon.”

Nodding, you kissed Javier, running a finger over his ring. “I love you.”

Javier smiled, kissing your forehead. “I love you more.”

You leaned against him, taking in the setting sun and the bustling happiness of the yard. Someone started playing music, and you perked up. “Oh! I love this song!”

Javier tipped his head, trying to figure out what was playing. “I don’t know this.”

“It’s from the mid sixties,” you said, standing and tugging Javier to his feet. “Never charted, but my mother loved it.” You started to sway with the happy music, and Javier copied your movements. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, you don't have to be a star,” you sang, making Javier smile. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, I love you just the way you are.”

Javier moved his hands to your waist, and you put your forearms on his shoulders, still swaying and singing. “For love is just the same, without fortune and fame. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

The song kept playing, and you kept singing, dancing with Javier on the porch. About halfway through the song, someone interrupted you. “Hey, dorks!”

You jumped, almost knocking into Javier and hurting him. “Jesus! A warning next time!”

Maria grinned. “Mamá says it’s time to eat, and if you don’t come down, she’ll feed your portion to the dogs.”

Javier smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like Mamá. C’mon, let’s eat.”

You took Javier’s hand, following him off the porch, still singing lightly as the grass crunched under your feet and the warm Texas breeze rippled your clothes.

“Hey, lover, treat me good and nice, and it will be alright. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

#Narcos #Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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glassbxttless · 3 years

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I’m taking a tiny break from my requests to write stuff that’s been pooling in my brain for a while now, so how about a Modern!AU where Han and Leia are great hippy dippy parents and they’ve got three boys who all have their own shit going on? Cool?

And maybe Sunny gets to meet them here 😬

I broke this into multiple parts, Have fun (:

Matt Solo x Reader

Part One

Word Count: 1,000

Warnings: swearing

“How come I’ve never met your family?” You ask as you pause the movie you’d been watching on your laptop, taking your headphones out. Matt was sitting at your dining room table working on whatever paperwork he’d been sent home from work with, Delilah curled up in his lap.

“Because my mother is busy, my father is busy, Randy is awkward around women, and Ben is a piece of shit.” He says without skipping a beat, flipping a page over to sign his name on another.

“I wanna meet them. You talk so nicely of your mom.” You say quietly and turn to look at him.

“Maybe for Christmas.” He mumbles. And he says that every year.

“Matty… come on.” You say quietly. “You see Randy everyday and you’ve never let me meet him.”

“Sunny, come on babe.” He sighs as he looks up from the paperwork to meet your eyes. “I’m sparing you the crazy.”

“And you aren’t crazy?” You raise an eyebrow and that just brings a smile to his lips. “I just want to meet the family I’m marrying into.” You wink at him before pressing in one of your earbuds. And at that Matt feels obligated to make arrangements for it, even if he hates it.

And that’s how he ends up bouncing on his toes on the front stoop of his parents brownstone. He was nervous, he hadn’t been here in years. Especially not with his brothers and father all in the same household at the same time. “Don’t be nervous.” You say to him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He was showing more nerves that you were.

And when Leia opened the door, her eyes were soft, immediately drawn to you. Matt had said he was seeing someone a while back, that you’d been together for a good chunk of time, and that he was happy. She smiles, “oh Matthew.” She pulls him into a tight hug and kisses his head, “you need more sleep, look at you.” She chuckles as she pulls away to hug you as well. “Your dad is in the living room.”

And that’s when Matt starts shifting his weight back and forth. “We brought a pie.” He says softly and holds up the box in his hands, passing it to his mother, as he hears the familiar screech of tires and he immediately rolls his eyes. “Go inside, sunshine.” He mumbles and kisses your head gently. Leia takes a deep breath and just leads you into the home. All you could notice were plants at first. Throughout the entryway, spilling into the surrounding rooms. There were two male figures in the living room. One rocking in a recliner and the other sprawled out on the couch.

“Randall, up. Make room.” Leia says softly. Leaving you standing there to place the pie into the refrigerator.

Matt lingers by the door as Ben takes a few steps up, offering him a cigarette which he gladly takes. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to call the family meeting.” Ben chuckles.

“My fiancée wants to meet everyone.” He mumbles before he takes a long drag from the cigarette. “And keep your dick in your pants. Last time my partner met you— you slept with her.”

“Oh, one mistake. You gonna hold that over me forever?” Ben frowns flicking the ashes away.

“As long as you don’t fuck her.” He tosses the butt into the garden, knowing his mother would be on his ass— or Ben’s— as soon as she found it. “I’ll be fine.” He shrugs and let’s them both into the house, pulling you into a deep kiss as soon as he can get his hands on you. He makes sure it’s right in front of Ben too. “Are you enjoying your visit?” He chuckles softly.

“You haven’t introduced me.” She says softly and smiles. Matt just rolls his eyes, “that’s Ben.” He points over his shoulder as Ben just waves to say hello. “And Randy and my dad.” He gestures as Han finally turns in his chair to look you both over.

“Didn’t think Matt would be the one getting married... again.” He chuckles softly. You bite your thumb nail and just sigh quietly. Matt squeezes your hip.

“We aren’t talking about that this weekend.” He says, voice strong and so similar to his brothers’. And upon seeing the rest of their faces, you concluded that the whole family was attractive.

By dinner you’ve listened to Ben and Matt both get into it with Han, Leia yell at Randy and Matt, Matt almost bust Ben in the jaw. And when you’re seated at the table, Leia sits next to Randy— smoothing hair away from his face as he tells some story about the interns. Matt eats quietly, feeling Han’s eyes on him. Was the only one of his kids to end up finishing college and getting a decent job. And he’d landed himself a really sweet girl, he’d decided you were pretty alright.

Ben starts telling stories about Matt as a teenager, smiling big and dopey. “Remember telling him all about girls. Was the fucking best.” He laughs all happy and shakes his head. “Shared a room with him and I remember when he brought his first little girlfriend home—”

“That’s enough, Ben.” Leia chuckles but you just smile.

“No it’s okay! I wanna hear more.” You grin at Matt who’s blushing fire truck red. And Han who’s laughing softly at the end of the table. “I can’t imagine having a house full of boys.” You say softly.

“You’ll understand when you two start having kids.” Leia smiles softly. And then that’s when Matt stops the conversations altogether.

“Mom, thank you for dinner. Ben, stop eyefucking my girlfriend.” He wipes his mouth, “Randy, you can talk to her, she won’t bite. And dad, goodnight.” He hums as he stands up, leaving you sitting there with his family as he disappears into the first room on the left down the hall.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @miraclesabound @fizzywoohoo @roanniom @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @loganluckylover

#glassbxttless adcu #glassbxttless #matt x sunny #matt solo #matty x reader #matt x reader #matt the radar technician #matt is so stressed™️#ben solo #randy solo #au!han solo #au!leia #the solo brothers #I have a vision for this and I’m executing it very messily #And for that I am very sorry #taking you home // matt solo #matty solo x sunny au

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satan-was-a-himbo · 3 years

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Date Night, Date Night

This is our first date night in a month. Onyx was against it...Very against it. When she figured out it had been a month since our last date, she took our phones saying we can’t have them back until we go on a date. We as in our beloved Diana and I. With Diana outside waiting for us as we get ready, I run my fingers through the fabric of my white dress one more time. I look at my darling Onyx, “Darling...Are you sure this isn’t too much?”

“Babe, it’s PERFECT!” She replies with a squeal. “Oh my gosh!” She grins, racing over to me and before hugging me. “You look amazing, Liora! I promise!” I look away with a sparse blush. “Are you sure?” She tilts my head so I look into her eyes. “Yes! Would I EVER lie to you?” I smile, “No...you wouldn’t…” She grins, planting a delicate kiss to my lips, “Exactly! Now, finish getting dressed and I’ll meet you outside!” She kisses my wrist, “ So I can tell you and our beloved what the night has for us!”

Onyx kisses me on the cheek before wandering out of my room, closing the door with a silent click. I exhale gradually, checking the dress one more time. I inhale and exhale before walking out. I grab my purse on my way out of the cafe. I smile when I see Diana’s wondering eyes. “Hey beloved.” Diana ceased to move. “Um...words...words...Hi beautiful, you look Liora.” She sputtered. “Wait I mean, Hi Liora you look beautiful.” I chuckle, walking up to her, placing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Mmm, I know what you meant, lovely.” I smile, caressing her cheek.

“You look amazing, my love.” I kiss her forehead, stepping back to take in her beauty. “She truly outdid herself! Am I right, Liora?” Onyx said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. I smile at her enthusiasm. “Yes, she very much did.” I softly run my fingers through Onyx’s hair and kiss both of my lovers’ foreheads. “What are your plans for tonight?” I say, gazing at Onyx. “Okay! So, I say we walk to the strip.” My eyes broaden, “Darling, we are in Seattle...It’s a long walk to Las Vegas.” She hesitates. “Teleportation?” She shrugs, looking at me with puppy dog eyes.

“I can’t say no to that face.” I take the hands of my beloveds in mine as we go through a portal, appearing in front of the Strip. “Now, what were you saying?” Diana states, looking at Onyx. “We are going to drink, singing karaoke and have an amazing night together!” I nod, taking my lovers’ hands. “Let’s start the night, shall we?” I kiss Diana’s cheek. We walk in together. Onyx kisses my hand before letting go. “I will go get drinks! Have fun somewhere!” She smiles, kissing Diana on the cheek.

“Go!” She says with a smile, pushing us towards the poker table. I glance down at the table. “It’s been a while since I’ve played poker…” I glance at Diana, “Darling, will you go get some chips for us to share?” Diana nods before I steal a soft kiss. “Thank you, my beloved.” Diana smiles, catching a soft kiss back from me before setting off for the chips. I sit at the table, reclined a bit, making myself comfortable. Diana comes back and sits on my lap, softly making me smile. “Hello there,” I say, stealing a soft kiss.

“Hey.” She said with a smile, kissing me tenderly. “Ayo, we’re trying to play so if you are coming over here to brag on your girl move out of the way.” I arch my eyebrows at the man. “I’m here to play,” I say, lifting a mischievous eyebrow. I drop about ten chips into the middle of the table. So does Diana. After the cards are dealt, Diana moves off of my lap with a parting kiss. “Wait for me! Hold on!” Onyx runs up behind us, balancing three drinks. “Hello, beloveds.” She says, kissing both my and Diana’s forehead.

Onyx puts a small bag of chips down, giving us our drinks. “Thanks, babe,” Diana says with a soft smile, kissing Onyx gently. “Alright, go ahead.” The game starts. I look at my hand. I keep my cool contained mask. ‘I surely don’t have the winning hand’ I think to myself looking around the table. The game is in full play. Diana is twitching each time a card is placed down like she’s not sure she’s going to win. I take her hand, softly squeezing it. “Beloveds, we have to do karaoke after this,” Onyx says after winning for the second time.

I laugh, “I should stop gambling with you.” Onyx laughs as well, “I just win all of the time. I’m going to go ahead and take my winnings~” She says with a sly smirk, holding an arm full of chips. “I’m going to put these in my room. Go into room number three. That will be our karaoke room.” Onyx parts from us, blowing a kiss before waddling to the elevator. Diana giggles, taking my hand, “So...do you know when we’re getting our phones back?” I shrug, squeezing her hand, kissing her temple. “I have no idea...And Onyx doesn’t seem to have our phones on her person.”

“Ya know, she may have it in her backpack purse thing.” I chuckle, “You may be right.” We make a leisurely stroll to the karaoke room. Sitting in the room is Onyx in a slightly sexier outfit. “U-uh...Words...words...um…” Onyx gets up from her seat, walking over to us. Onyx softly kisses Diana before gently putting her forehead against mine. “Hello, beloveds! Welcome to karaoke with Onyx!” She says, with a smile, twirling in her new outfit which is slightly flowier than her previous dress. “Grab a microphone the both of you and Diana will pick the first song.”

Song after song, we were giggling and laughing together. The night was filled with joy and the happiness of being with my beloveds. I love them so very dearly and I hope we have a night like this again. We end the night back at the cafe in the break area. We talk and laugh all night. We retreat back to my room at the end of our night but that was only the beginning of something euphoric. Diana and Onyx are truly my rays of sunshine.

- Liora

#lovestuck #sweet enchantments #sin with me #lovestuck fanfiction #lovestruck sin with me #lovestruck sweet enchantments #sin with me onyx #sweet enchantments liora #sin with me envy #sweet enchantments the boss #liora lovestuck #onyx lovestruck #Onyx Wren #Liora Skyheart #fluff #date night #lesbianromance #1-2-3

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ilovereadingandilovebreathing · 5 years

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Ch. 4: Finding Family (College AU)

A/N: Wow I’m writing something. Wow it’s not an ask prompt: it’s a random part of the college AU! I just reblogged the Chicken Nugget the Caterpillar post and got inspired. Take Virgil being nurturing. And don’t let my disdain for Henry David Thoreau ruin your opinion of him! *Random note: a college English survey course is one that dips into a bunch of different authors and works within a single subsection of literature, like American or British. A crisp, sunny afternoon found Virgil in the middle of campus; he reclined with his legs bent against a metal outdoor table, his eyes scanning over the words of Walden, for better or for worse, for his American Literature survey course.* As Virgil rolled his eyes at another one of Thoreau’s self-proclaimed epiphanies, he jumped, suddenly feeling the hairs on his left arm shifting. His gaze snapped down, and he gasped audibly at the bright green creature inching its way toward his hand. “Where the hell did you come from, little guy?” Virgil slowly laid down his book and tenderly poked at the little being with the very tip of his right index finger. The little bug froze, and Virgil giggled. “Sorry I scared you.”

Virgil sighed and leaned his head back, soaking Florida sunshine with a deep inhale. For fear of all types of cancer, he usually stayed inside, but today was Friday. Campus was virtually empty; the air was calm and clear, the sky reflecting this tranquility, and Virgil simply found himself drawn to the small gathering of tables and chairs that were guarded by thick bushes. He supposed that must have been where the caterpillar creeped over from. Virgil peered back at his arm, still finding the insect in the same spot, and he quirked a brow. “I really did spook you, huh?” Guilt tugged at him a bit, but he had an idea. “Patton has been a little sad lately.” Virgil mused to himself and the little one. “Roman, too. They’d love you. Maybe...” Virgil slipped his phone from his pocket and Googled types of green caterpillars in Florida and what butterflies they changed into. “Hmmm....green’s a pretty popular color with you guys, huh? Well, they all look great, so whatever you turn into will be cool.” Virgil eyed his clock and turned off his phone, carefully rising and stretching before bending over for his bag. “We can head home, now, little dude. Pat should be back, and I’m sure he’ll love to see you.” Virgil muttered random thoughts to his new companion as they trekked back to Virgil’s apartment, and just as he pulled up to the door and pulled out his keys, the little bug’s grip came lose, and it fell toward the unforgiving concrete. Virgil yelped in surprise and knelt after it, relieved to see it landed on the welcome mat and not the hard slab, but his breath was labored and eyes intense as he slowly straightened back up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, little guy, oh my gosh-“ “Virgil?” Virgil’s head snapped up, and he clenched his jaw when he absorbed Logan staring at him, brows quirked and hair mussed. Logan napping was unusual, but the thought escaped Virgil when he realized the question asked for more than just identification. “Yeah, uh-“ “Are you alright? Who are you talking to? Are you having an attack?” “No, no, I’m fine....god this is embarrassing.” Logan stepped aside. “Oh, thanks.” “You do live here, after all,” Logan commented, no hint of jest in his voice. “R-right...” Virgil scooted inside, keeping his hand cupped gingerly over the being on his arm. “Are you injured?” Logan peered at his domed fingers. “I...no, but...it might be.” His voice trailed off, and he peeked under his hand before fully revealing his charge. “Ah, a caterpillar. Judging from the bright green hue interspersed with the black and yellow accents, I would assume it will grow to be a swallowtail butterfly.” “Seriously?” Virgil started in awe. “I saw those at the botanical gardens. They’re gorgeous and fun to draw.” “Indeed. You said it might be injured?” “Yeah....” Virgil laughed nervously. “It fell off my arm when I tried to get my keys out. That’s why you heard me talking to myself.” “Oh, I see. Caterpillar’s bodies tend to allow them to be pretty resilient, and if it fell on the doormat, it should be alright.” “Caterpillar?!” Virgil jumped a bit when Patton padded into the room, his eyes a little watery and his steps a little stiff. “Where?!” “Here, Pat.” Virgil extended his arm, and his roommate gasped and inched toward the tiny creature. “Hi, little guy!” Patron whispered and waved, prompting a chuckle from Virgil. “Where’d you find it?” “It found me, actually. I was reading for Am. Lit. over in the Little Grove, and it decided to use my arm like a walking trail.” “So cute! You’re chosen!!” “Chosen? Like the Chosen One?” The final member of the rooming quartet shuffled into the room, stretching and yawning after a heavy nap. “Sure! The Butterfly Whisperer!” “Butterfly?” Roman looked around slowly. “Where? And how did you capture it humanely?” “It’s still a caterpillar, Ro.” Virgil pointed his arm toward Roman. “It found me on campus.” “Well, hello, there, little one.” Roman cooed softly. “Do we have a name for this button-sized beastie?” “No, not really.” Virgil shrugged. “Then, I dub thee: Carterpillar.” “But what if it is female?” Logan interjected. “Katiepillar!” “Kathypillar!” Patton giggled, and Roman shot him fingers guns. “Good one.” “I like ‘Swallow,’ since Logan said it will grow into a Swallowtail.” Virgil piped up quietly. “Swallow...I like it! Very YA Fantasy.” Roman mused, a hand on his chin for show. “Me, too! It’s cute!” Patton fluttered around the stagnant creature, checking it out at all angles. “Yes, you can hold it, Pat.” Virgil rolled his eyes affectionately and carefully plucked the bug off of himself and placed it in Patton’s eagerly awaiting palms. “Ooo thank you!” Patton danced a little, being sure to keep his hands as still as possible. “It’s so cute! Can we keep it? And raise it into a butterfly?!” “I imagine so. I can look into online resources on butterfly rearing.” Logan pulled out his phone and began searching, muttering to himself about making sure they could obtain the proper host plants for their new charge. “I have a tank!” Patton exclaimed, and the others turned to him. “You do?” Virgil asked. “I....had a pet turtle.” Patton blushed. “I’ve been wanting to get a new one, but I just...haven’t quite gotten over Franklin....or had the money to properly care for one.” “That’s...fair.” Roman raised his brows quickly. “We can leave it on the coffee table or the breakfast bar.” “I’ll get it! Here, Ro.” Patton slowly handed the insect off to Roman and headed for his room. “It is a rather lovely creature, isn’t it?” Roman mused softly, drawing his hands to his face. “Amazing that something like this should exist naturally.” “Indeed. The wonders of the natural world are endless.” Logan sighed softly, traces of a fond smile pulling at his lips. “Would you like to hold it, Logan?” “I would prefer not to, honestly. I can observe him quite well from here.” “Okay.” Roman shrugged and went back to bug-gazing. “Amazing that the anti-social butterfly should bring us this little gem.” “It’s because of that, Caprincious.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Gimme my bug baby back.” He twitched his fingers in Roman’s direction. “Or put it in Patton’s tank.” Logan gestured toward the approaching youth who placed the tank on the kitchen counter. “Let’s get some sticks and leaves and stuff first.” After outfitting Swallow’s new home, the quartet stood back and admired their handiwork, but Roman’s face soon fell. “Why is it just sitting there? Surely it would want to explore.” “It is likely making sure it is safe first.” Logan commented. “It has been transferred between unfamiliar, moving bodies, after all. Let’s give it some space.” The other three nodded in agreement and scattered to their respective afternoon activities. A little while later, Virgil slipped into the kitchen for a snack and smiled; Swallow had inched its way up a thick stick Roman had found (or...broken off of a tree...) for it. Virgil laughed under his breath and whispered, “Just takes a bit, huh? I relate, little guy. It’s...a lot to take in at first, but once you get settled here, it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else.” “AWWW, VIRGIIILLLL!” Virgil jumped and Patton sat up from his reclining spot on the couch, an English text in one hand. Virgil tried to smile in return and shrank into his hoodie, shuffling back toward his room. “Don’t worry, buddy.” Patton murmured toward Swallow. “You’ll both grow into yourselves one day. I just know it.” The young man hummed happily at the thought and was just settling in when a quiet chuckle made him jump. “Are you talking to Swallow, Pat?” Patton peeked over the back of the couch to find Roman standing outside of his door. “I heard voices and you yelling...or squealing.” “Virgil was being all soft and sweet with Swallow, and I couldn’t contain myself.” Patton gushed, giggling at the recent memory. “We both know well that he is a softie, no matter how hard he tries to seem.” “Shut up!” Virgil yelled from beyond his half-open door. “Virgil!” “Get used to it, Swallow.” Roman stage-whispered conspiratorially. “It’s always loud around here.” “Because we’re a family!” Patton cut in, smiling brightly. “Yes,” Roman mused, gazing at Patton fondly. “I suppose we are. We even have a pet.” Patton giggled and disappeared behind the couch again, missing the brief, misty-eyed longing on Roman’s face before he schooled his expression and padded back toward his room. “Chinese for dinner?” Roman asked over his shoulder. “We just had Chinese.” Virgil quipped from his room. “I like Chinese, but I like a lot of food!” Patton called back. “I have a coupon for the sandwich shop on Main.” Logan added from his room. “Perfect.” All three replied simultaneously. “Yup. Just like a family.” Roman thought before falling into his bed with a sigh. “Please let it stay this way.” Angst on the horizon? Who knows! I don’t. Hope you enjoyed!

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #thomas sanders #thomas sanders fic #thomas sanders fanfic #mine #collegeau #tsfanfics

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 4 years

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OT3FIC: Lithuanian Hound

13 - "I want that woman out of my house!"

Her eyes were focused upon the little hand, spinning and ticking away the seconds with a dull sound that reverberated through the waiting room with each shift of the cogs. The endless cogs turning and turning, counting down the movement of the world outside of this little bubble. Jo felt herself shifting uncomfortably on the leather couch - something she should have felt comfortable with with the worn and supple leather, marks of age and it's history visible to all that looked, but the intricate design felt sharp and uninviting compared to the materials themselves.

She had half expected the walls to be that same sickly yellow - pale and faded to represent sunshine and exude peacefulness that every hospital wall across the country was painted, but instead made the rooms claustrophobic and the walls sinking into a putrid sense of foreboding - but had been surprised on entering to see the pale greenish-blue to the walls not unlike a color she was so very intimately familiar with. The blonde almost considered which came first, the chicken or the egg, as she shifted once again in her seat as the clock ticked ever on towards the time of her scheduled appointment.

As the minute hand struck the hour, she forced herself not to react as the door pushed open between here and there, and the doctor stepped through speaking calmly and with a hand to the back of his previous patient. The squirrelly looking man bobbed his head a few times before proceeding straight out the front door without even a glance towards the couch, and Jo had to force her lips not to twitch as she felt the doctor's eyes find her waiting.

"Ms ..Miles?" "Yes." "Come right in."

She uncrossed her legs and rose with a smoothness honed from her years of practice and poise as a child that she rarely ever utilized in her daily life now - a fluid shift to her feet and the click of her heels across the wooden floorboards and she moved straight past the doctor with barely an acknowledgement towards him into the bowels of the beast. Jo moved swiftly, tugging gently at the back of her sweater to resettle it and smooth the bunched fabric from her time seated, as she crossed the floor towards the center of the room.

Her eyes danced around the space as she heard the door shut with a sharp snap of the latch into place and the soft pad of the man's feet across the floor behind her. Jo made no shift as she looked about the room, and moved slowly and without concern towards the opposite wall - red like dried blood and the color she knew that haunted the doctor's favorite patient - and the dark wooden desk that was covered in sheafs of paper, dark charcoal and pencil sketches atop each other, that she shifted through unthinkingly. They were so well conceived and thought out, elegantly made and designed, but lacking the softness and organic movement of those she was so familiar with at home. Turning back around as she heard the doctor's footsteps and pause, Jo schooled her face into a blank look as she saw him paused beside the armchair - the one Will described in detail and she knew was always the doctors.

"Would you like to sit, Ms Miles?" Hannibal's voice was soft but the acoustics of the space made his words crystal clear no matter how far she was from him. It allowed him to speak as precisely as he wanted, yet not once raise his tone unless he wanted to. An element of control in the space that Jo found so very amusing to see in such a fixed and permanent display.

Jo shifted for a moment before moving swiftly towards the other armchair, sinking into it with the same fluidity as before, and tugged at the stiff fabric of her pencil skirt as she crossed her knees and stared back at the other as he moved to do the same. "Do you always dictate like this, doctor?"

"I find that I can help my patients the most on a one on one basis if I am facing them, Ms Miles. Or would you prefer Beth?" "Beth is fine if you'd like, doctor." "Or perhaps it would be best if I used your real name, Joanna. Which would you prefer?"

"Whatever makes you most comfortable. But here I thought you might enjoy bein' able to pretend you wouldn't know who I might be talkin' 'bout. Plausible deniability for your.. sensibilities." Jo replied in return, uncrossing and recrossing her legs as she shifted to turn the other way as she watched the doctor grow more comfortable now he was reclined in his own chair. His hands were clasped atop his own bended knee, and the blonde was amused to see the way he seemed to stare straight at her yet take in each of her movements and changes without dropping her gaze for a moment. She knew that she was projecting differently to the rough clothing they last met in, with her hair a mess and her cheek still dirty with grave dirt, compared to the form fitted pencil skirt and knitted sweater she wore now, her hair in a slick bun and the thick rimmed glasses she used exclusively for hunts across the bridge of her nose clean and shining rather than the dirty figure she'd shown before. "But if you'd prefer, Joanna or Jo works for me, doc."

"Well then, Joanna, what can I assist you with in this session? What has brought on this desire to enter therapy at this moment?" "Oh you know, this and that. I have always been told I should stop self medicatin' and see a professional by some of my ex's." "And you have finally chosen to follow their suggestions, why?" "This and that. I've heard interesting things of your methods, thought I should see what the... appeal of you was, you know."

"Is that all you are hoping to get out of this session, Joanna?" Hannibal returned, the volley sent back with a hint of sharpness under the tone as he stared straight back at her. His hands shifted to steeple under his chin as he moved forward to lean inwards, as if assessing her all over again. Jo in return found herself moving to her feet, eyes drifting away from his gaze towards the statue behind him with a swift move "Do you believe in therapy, Joanna, or is this simply a curiosity of yours?"

"Therapy never seems to have been a good fit for me." "Many people believe that, until they find themselves partaking in the activity." "Or forced to through the systems designed to require it." "Is that your take on the practice then?" "It's a means for the rich and the jaded to be self indulgent and congratulatory, or a means to control and manipulate the masses. It's utter bullshit dreamt up to draw blood and funds out of the overall system."

"That is a harsh interpretation of the practice." Hannibal's tone grew harder the more Jo returned as she stood to move past his chair. Jo had even indulged herself to patting the back of the man's chair right beside his shoulder as she passed towards the statuette of a rearing stag - an image she turned to look back towards the patient's chair with a thought that it was no wonder Will's dreams were haunted by the same figure - and ran a hand over the smoothed wood with a sigh. The doctor for his part appeared to turn minutely, eyes following her sharply as Jo stroked the wooden figure for a long, quiet moment. "And yet you are here-"

"I've always thought I should give things the ol' college try. Though in my case that is a lot shorter than finishing properly, so maybe I just want to see how you do what you do so well, Mr Lecter, instead." Jo replied softly, and moved further around the room at a slow pace - a hand out stroking over each area as she passed, running a finger across the spines of the books that lined one wall, before she ran a hand over the thick drapes that covered the windows and let the slatted thin jagged lines of light into the room from the dying sun. Her eyes moved around the space, alighting on various items here and there that she felt the walls crushing in from the growing darkness as the minutes ticked on and outside this space the sun would be sinking below the horizon. She continued to prowl about the space further, side stepping the bonsai tree between the windows with deference to the plant, but an eye roll as she turned her head to catch the scathing look on the man's face at her response. "I mean, if I were goin' to see a therapist, why not one that might not call me crazy for the things I've done."

"A therapist should believe their patient-" "Ah, but how many therapists know that if someone such as your bloodline eats human meat they go all scaley and fucked?"

Jo had made her way across the dark red wall again towards the drinks cabinet seated in the corner with a smile, and let out a laugh into the space at both her comment and the way that as she looked at the intricate carving of the globe that she could see the room suiting another asshole with a strange accent and a penchant for manipulation and suits. The sound seemed to die in the space though, in a way that Hannibal's voice and her own quiet responses didn't. As if the room was so structured and designed to suck and destroy any signs of happiness or mirth from it's very space. Deadening and crushing the sounds down in on itself until it disappeared.

"What do you mean by that, Joanna?" "Were you not aware of it? Or did you think I hadn't worked out what your uncle and family were?" "I am intrigued as to what you mean by your statement."

Jo shrugged a shoulder in response as she continued to pad her way around the room, stopping at the side of the doctor's desk and flicked a hand out to spin the brass compass atop it. Her eyes focused on the spinning top while she kept her back straight and ready to react at the sound of the other man shifting in his seat. "What I meant was, why would I talk to a doctor that didn't already know 'bout the things that go bump in the night. Why would I talk to those that'd institutionalize me like the rest of the world that gets fucked over by your profession and the system as a whole. I don't see the point to talkin' in circles or riddles with those that don't understand until too late."

"Is that why you did not finish your schooling? A fear of institutionalization?" "More dissatisfaction and disenfranchisement in the system as a whole. When you know what's out there - like you - then why bother learnin' from those who will just end up drained of their blood, or torn apart, or perhaps on a dinner plate."

"I am most certain you would be the third category, Joanna." The voice was far closer than the chair, though it did not take her by surprise at all when the other's large hand landed over and clasped her hand down tightly around the sharp brass edges of the compass, crushing the meat of her hand down against the cool metal. "You've certainly spoken enough to prove your dangerous to my lifestyle if left unchecked."

"Your lifestyle indeed." Jo snapped in return, flexing her fingers under his grip but making no move to tug from under the harsh hold that she was in. The point of the arrow dug into her palm harshly as she turned her head slightly to stare straight back into the cold look of the doctor's eyes as if unaffected or unfazed by his grasp. "Are you aware that as poetic as your bein' Hannibal the Cannibal might be, that that's a lie in and of itself? Are you even aware of what you are, Mr Lecter?"

"Would you care to enlighten me as to your suspicions then, Joanna?" Hannibal's voice was harsher now, as he shifted slightly closer and stared down at her with a fierceness that Jo was familiar with in the eyes of her prey. It might frighten or intimidate someone else - it might make Will's back shudder under the look, or that asshole Jack's teeth set on edge - but as she stared back unblinkingly, the blonde could tell this was the first and only time someone had looked into the eye of the beast and not flinched at the darkness looking back. "Just what exactly is it you believe I am."

"You're a rugaru, doc, and if you don't know what that word is, then your uncle and aunt denied you some important knowledge." "You believe me a monster?" "I don't believe, Mr Lecter, I know." "What makes you believe I am such a thing? What convinces you of this?"

"A journal from the early 1800's from a hunter - you do know what a hunter is, right? - in the Baltic area listed the name Lecter as part of a strain of rugaru's. You're from there, aren't you? That's where your family is from and where your sister died." Jo spoke softly, shifting in her heels with the slightest squeak of the floorboard under her at the weight redistributing, and clenched her hand tighter around the brass instrument with a sneer back at him. Hannibal's face twitched as if in surprise, the smallest shift in expression that Jo was unable to place, before she quirked an eyebrow up at him. "And as to why you don't look like every other one of your ancestors, like you remember your uncle lookin', was all to do with that sister of yours from what I've heard of your kind."

"Oh?" "If a rugaru eats one of their own, before ever tastin' human flesh, the physical transformation is stopped. I guess none of your family ever knew 'bout that little quirk." "My sister was never what I am-" "She was never old enough to become what you are. She was never allowed to."

There was a long pause as they stared sharply at one another, the steel in her eyes matched in part with the coldness of his own stare, before there was a hiss of breath and the tug of a hand upwards. Jo could feel the barbed edge of the arrow jerk back out of her palm as it was pulled away, and sneered at the way the doctor twisted her hand over, probing at the sluggishly bleeding wound with a thumb, pressure adding to the pain of it as she looked up at him without fear. Fear was what he craved, and she would not show any such weakness when facing him down over this.

"What is the point of sharing this information with me, Joanna?" The taller man hissed the words out, digging his thumb in sharper for a moment before withdrawing it, eyes fixed upon her own as she let out a hiss followed by her nose wrinkling as he lifted the thumb to his lips. Jo barely controlled herself from snapping a hand out at him as he licked the blood from his finger with a small frown all his own. "What is the point of you - when you are nothing but an insolent child; when your only worth is as sour as your blood is?"

"To make a point, that was the point. Cause I know what you are, and possibly more than you do, doc." Jo snapped back, tugging to pull her hand back towards herself but unable to pull further than an inch back before the grip around her wrist and hand tightened like a vice and pulled it up towards his lips. She didn't manage to stop the snarl as the monster lifted her hand right to her lips and fought to hold back a shudder of disgust that rolled up her spine as she watched his tongue cross the meat of her thumb with a hiss. "The point's that I wanted to get a measure on you, before I decided if I'd do my job."

"You think you can best me?" "I know I can-"

"Are you sure you are not here about that God complex of yours, Joanna?" The doctor's words were hissed out between his teeth, and as he pulled back, Jo jerked her hand from his sharply as his lips blossomed into a twisted smile. His teeth were white and sharp, and she could already picture exactly what he'd want to serve her up as at the dinner table - dark cherries and a bed of celeriac puree - as he glared down at her. "That little voice in your mind that claims you are invincible and that you can take on everything. The lack of fear that rolls down that back of yours, and the way you delude yourself into believing you can do so."

As the doctor leaned towards her, a shift in his stance to attempt to coral her back towards the desk, to trap and guide his prey into a corner from what she could tell of his thoughts, there was a knock at the door and a quiet call of a voice they both knew so well. "Hannibal? May I come in?"

"Yes Will-" His response was cut short, calling back to the other who was seemingly on time for his appointment that evening, by the thunk of brass against the side of his head. Jo dropped the heavy weight from her uninjured hand as she took a step back, avoiding the trap that the man had been trying to push her into, with the clack of her heels alongside the thud of the metal ornament as the man gave an unexpected grunt of surprise and rage. There was a hiss as he turned towards her, eyes wide and face twisted in a burning fire that did not surprise her one bit to see, before he shouted as the door opened with an inelegant jerk, "How dare you? What an audacious-"

"Hannibal, what happen- Jo! What are you doing here?" The appearance of the other and Jo sidled her way away from the desk, clutching her hand against the white knit of her sweater uncaring of the pink and red that was slowly soaking in and staining the wool with a sneer towards the doctor. "What are-"

"I want that woman out of my house!" Hannibal snarled the words out, harsh and gruff as he jerked his hand away from the back of his head, the hiss that came out at the small flecks of blood making Jo laugh to see the distaste across his face. "She is a-"

"Insolent child, I know, I heard you the first time, doc." Jo replied, biting down on the laughter that she felt bubbling up as she moved further away from the other in his slowly disheveling persona as his hands messed up his hair stroking through it trying to place pressure upon the barely existent wound. As if a thump to the head from her was enough to truly harm him. "Perhaps my next session we can cover that God complex you were talkin' 'bout-"

"Out! Out of my office, out of my house, right now." The man hissed, drawing his hand away finally and plucking the handkerchief from his pocket with a flourish as he bundled it and pressed to the back of his head as Jo noticed his eyes catching the incredulous look from the other man in the room, staring at him in shock. "William, take your woman away immediately, as we will need to reschedule our appointment. I am suddenly unwell."

Jo barely contained the smile noticing the way that Will's eyes darted between the two of them before the empath moved immediately towards her, an arm going around her waist and the look of surprise turning into one of shock and anger as he notice the red stain growing on her shirt. There was a moment when she could see the desire to turn and shake and rage an answer for it out of either the doctor or herself, but the moment was gone shortly after and then there was a sharp nod of the curly haired head and a hand on her waist, guiding her towards the door with the click of heels and the soft thuds of his boots.

As they reached the door to that blue-green waiting room that was the chicken to his egg, Jo twisted her head back to see the ferocious calmness cross the other's face for a moment, before she chirped loudly and with a calm look all her own in response. "Better luck next time, Mr Lecter."

#ot3 grey/jo/will fic #jopov

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sirkkasnow · 5 years

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10 Let Someone Else Pick Up The Tab

Ao3 link

07/18/13 Thursday

The nerd brigade was in full control of the living room by the time Stan was up and about the next day. Graph paper, rulebooks and glitter-spangled character sheets were littered across the carpet. Clary sat enthroned upon the recliner with a bunch of pillows arranged to support her elbows. She leafed gingerly through some arcane tome tricked out with silver ink as Dipper hovered to one side, pointing out paragraphs here and there with a pencil and a note of shrill excitement.

“... so that’s what they did with the clerics in the latest rule update!”

“How are the warlocks looking in this edition?” Clary flipped to the back, then started paging through intently. Today’s kerchief was an improbable shade of star-spattered purple. One of Mabel’s scarves strapped down a towel-wrapped ice pack at the back of her neck. “They’re kind of garbage for one-shots, but if we get something longer-term going online I have a concept...”

“Ah, we - usually avoid warlocks - “ Dipper glanced over at Ford, who’d popped up with a frown from behind a cardboard screen. “But if we end up trying an online campaign we can talk! Today’s just an intro. Some puzzles, some mysteries, perhaps some villains.” He waggled dramatic fingers at Clary, who grinned back with an appreciative ‘ooOOOooo.’

Stan made to slide on by, intent on heading out to the yard and the cars and the testing-out of a happy engine, but Mabel caught sight of him and scuttled out in pursuit. “Grunkle Stan! Help me out for a minute, we need ice pops for these brave adventurers!”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned at Mabel, caught Clary’s eye in passing and absolutely did not blush a little, nope, no way, he was too old and too jaded for that kinda nonsense.

Mabel squinted up at him appraisingly, planted hands at his back and shoved him towards the gift shop. “So?” she hissed between her teeth as they staggered down the hallway. “Gimme the 411.”

All he could manage was a thumbs up. Her eyes went wide and she yanked up the cowlneck of her sweater to muffle a high-pitched squeak of glee. “So, she asked me out, I guess, maybe when we’re in port, since we swapped phone numbers an’ all - “

“Did you kiss her?!”

“What? No!”

“You should. She gets all dreamy-eyed - “

“Mabel, she is a classy dame, you don’t rush that kinda thing!”

“There is no dame too classy for my Grunkle Stan.” She hugged him hard around the waist and ran off to the gift shop, leaving him dumbfounded. “I’ll grab you a pineapple one!”

He hauled both the toolbox and a pineapple ice pop out to the yard, late-morning sunshine laying across his shoulders with a warm and soothing weight. The Fairlane’s engine was familiar as the back of his hand after two weeks of tinkering with its insides. Stan propped up the hood and dove in, checking and re-checking his work, reaching in to tweak a connection or two. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he slid into the driver’s seat and shook out the keys.

A good half tank of fuel remained, so no problem on that front. The engine sputtered briefly as he coaxed it into life, then settled into an even cadence that was easy enough on the ears, but Stan cocked his head as he listened. A faint off note in the sound plucked at some distant memory. He leaned on the gas a bit, leaving the car in park.

Then blinked, as the subtle vibration he’d been registering resolved itself into something more rhythmic.

“Shit.” Stan yanked his foot off the pedal and flipped the key back towards him, the thrum of well-regulated combustion rudely interrupted by an earsplitting clatter that echoed off the surrounding trees. The engine took way too long to wind down into silence, something in its guts rattling around hard enough to jostle the suspension. He laid a hand across his brow and swore fervently under his breath.

Twenty seconds passed before the side door banged open and a blur pelted across the yard. Clary smacked into the driver’s side, barely catching herself against the window frame. Winded, she stuck her head into the passenger compartment, frantic eyes flicking across the dash and the dented hood. “That was a piston.”

“That was a piston,” Stan agreed grimly.

“What - what the hell happened? Is the engine dead?” She sagged against the car.

“Well - “ Clary made a strangled noise of protest and he winced. “No. No, no, it’s not dead but things just got more complicated. I swear this isn’t my fault.” His brother and the kids were almost there, trotting across the grass. “Ford, did McGucket get all that heavy equipment shifted up to his new place? We’re gonna need an engine sling at the very least.”

Ford looked a little stricken as he accepted Dipper’s phone. “I thought we’d need to take the wagon up there for the bodywork, but I hoped it’d be under steam by then. Yes, the garage should have everything we’re going to need and then some.” He scrolled through contacts and tapped a number, turning away to engage in low conversation.

Clary straightened, leaning hard on the door for support. “All right,” she whispered. “Fine. Not like it hasn’t been a comedy of errors since I crashed into the town jewel at the peak of the season.” Her hands came together with a sharp clap. “We’d better get the rest of my junk out of the car. May I have some help?”

There wasn’t much left to clear out at this point. Clary opened all the doors and the back gate, letting the kids shuttle the last couple of bags into the house. She handed a skinny box of bottle rockets over to Stan. “Leftovers. I guess we can fire those off when this thing’s finally done.”

Then she collapsed onto the edge of the driver’s side passenger seat, doubled over with her head in her hands. “Good Christ. We just can’t catch a break, can we?”

Ford dropped into a crouch with an ease Stan envied, looking up to her and speaking firmly. “We promised that we’d get you on the road again and we shall. We’ll understand, of course, if you want to cut your losses at this point. The offer of a rental stands, if you want to head up to Seattle and come back to collect your car.”

She was already shaking her head, laughing raggedly. “Come on, Ford. You understand the sunk cost fallacy as well as I do. Thank you, but no.” Clary patted the seat back. “Whatever it takes, it’s got to be this ride. Stan? Can you actually fix it?”

That stung a bit but he couldn’t blame her. “Yeah. I mean, it’s gonna be another week, maybe a little more, and we might be haulin’ McGucket in to help out some.”

Clary drew a careful breath. “Who exactly is McGucket?”

“Best mechanical engineer I’ve ever met,” said Ford.

“Town crank,” said Stan, and got a glare for his trouble. “What? They’re both true!”

Ford sighed and rose. “I’ve been hoping to introduce you to Fiddleford anyway. There might be quite a bit to talk about! Can you adjust your schedule to accommodate another week or so?”

“My next firm commitment is in September. I arranged to leave most of the summer open. I will admit I expected to spend most of it on the road.” Clary’s smile was crooked.

“The McGuckets would be happy to have us as soon as we can arrive. Is it all right to line up a tow truck?”

“Go for it. Thank you, Ford.”

Ford’s smile was the warm, reassuring one he tended to bust out for the customs agent when they’d come skidding into some obscure port with inadequate paperwork. “Shouldn’t take much more than half an hour.”

Stan watched him head back towards the house and sat heavily behind the steering wheel. Clary studied her feet, then pitched backwards with a groan, legs hanging out the door as she sprawled across the back seat. Both hands came up to cover her face. “Aaaaaaauuuuuugh.”

“You all right over there?” He set the fireworks down in the footwell and draped an arm over the backrest, peering down in concern.

“Everything hurts and I want to cry.”

Stan fidgeted. Extending reassurance had never been his strong suit. “Listen...McGucket is definitely a little nuts but he knows his way around a combustion engine like nobody else. Between him an’ me we’ll get it runnin’.”

“This damned car.” She sounded so tired. “I had one job this summer, get this thing from Colorado to the west coast, then back home to Baltimore. I haven’t even made it to the Pacific yet!”

“Pretty roundabout route for gettin’ back to Maryland.”

Her breath hitched. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose it is.” Clary let her arms fall, one drooping to the floor, the other crossed over her abdomen, and stared up at the roof light. “Stan, I’m glad I’m here. I hate that I don’t have any control over being here.”

Stan tried out comforting responses in the back of his head for a couple seconds, words sticking in his throat. “Well, if you’re gonna be here another week, we’re doin’ the dance thing next Friday. You an’ I could actually, y’know. Dance. If you want,” he clarified as her eyes swiveled over to him.

Clary was silent just long enough to make him nervous, but at last the unhappy line of her mouth softened. “I meant what I said. I’m not taking it back. Even if the car still isn’t running.” She lifted a hand and hooked her index finger into his at the seat back, letting the weight of her arm hang. “Let’s dance.”

She was beautiful in her exhaustion. Stan shifted to hide a widening smile against his shoulder and tightened his one-digit clasp in hers. “Great. I’ll see ya there. Gonna be quite the swank party.”

They trailed the tow truck in the El Diablo, Clary tucked into the front seat, Ford in the back with the kids. Dipper narrated choice bits of Northwest family history all the way, none of it flattering. Clary kept glancing back to him in astonishment. “They were really that bad?”

“They used to be, but they don’t have all that dirty money to throw around any more! And, uh. Pacifica’s okay.”

Mabel jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Ow. Anyway, McGucket ended up buying the place at the end of last summer, so it’s probably changed a bit, but it’s huge! I haven’t been up there since the big party last year. Hey, there it is.”

Clary looked up to the vast lodge-style manor on its hill as they rounded a curve and emerged from the trees. “Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“This town doesn’t make any sense.”

“Thought you’d figured that out by now.” He swung the car up along the long drive, squinting up at the mansion. “I never did manage to slip into this joint while the Northwests were runnin’ it.”

“It takes a lot of money to be that tacky. Clary, Dipper is definitely taking us on the tour.” Mabel hooked an arm firmly through her brother’s. “We’re gonna let the machine geeks go at it for a while.”

“I don’t know, Mabel....”

“C’mon, you said it wasn’t haunted any more! What’s the harm? I’m sure the Northwests took all their awful family portraits with ‘em....”

The kids bickered all the way up to the garage, which was as oversized as the rest of the place. He could just glimpse a tinkerer’s dream of equipment in there – stuff he recognized, stuff that looked to be custom built, some massive grease-encrusted hunks of machinery that must have come up from the town dump along with McGucket.

The man himself was a lot less grease-encrusted than he used to be. McGucket still sported the overalls and the spectacles, but he was scrubbed, bright-eyed and less stooped, and the missing teeth had been patched in through some kind of dental wizardry. Mabel and Dipper hauled Clary off for introductions while Stan and Ford got the wagon unloaded, oriented and nudged into the open bay.

One thing hadn’t changed at all and that was the language. McGucket’s conversation was as peppered with hick-isms as ever. “What a pleasure to meet ya, miss! Ford’s filled me in on yer situation and I’m real sorry y’got stranded out here, but we’ve got the stuff t’get ya right on the road again! I hear there’s a thrown piston t’fix?” He, the kids and Clary, her eyes widening a little with every twang, took off on a tour of the further corners of the space. An occasional snippet of discussion drifted back Stan’s way as he tried to focus on the immediate necessities.

“Just as well she already knows this place is a little strange.” Ford caught Stan’s jacket as it was tossed over, then shucked his own coat and hung both up on pegs.

“Not sure I’d’ve brought her up here without knowin’ she wouldn’t flip.” Stan got the Fairlane settled into place, set the brake and went looking for a dolly.

“You wouldn’t believe some of the things he’s built! McGucket can do stuff with old cars that’s practically miraculous--!” Dipper was nearly hopping in excitement as the little tour group rounded the far end of the garage. Stan glanced up, caught his nephew’s eye and dragged pinched fingers along his lips: zip it, kid. Dipper blinked, went a little red and reined himself in. “I mean he’s not going to do anything weird to your car. Grunkle Stan will make sure of that.”

“Of course not! Why, it’d be a crime to take apart such a pretty thing.” McGucket caught one of Clary’s hands in both of his and peered up in watery-eyed sincerity. “I promise we’ll take real good care of it. Mabel, honey, y’said you wanted t’take a quick tour? I can send ya up with Tater if y’like.”

Stan hauled up the hood and latched its support into place, listening in. Clary’s polite smile finally loosened up into something genuine and she tightened her grip in McGucket’s. “That’s your son, right? I’d love to see the place. Mabel says it’s something else.”

“Sure is! Left up most of the fancy stuff, gold doorknobs an’ all that claptrap, might have t’swap ‘em out next time we need some for circuit boards or whatever...” McGucket fished a heavily modified cell phone out of a pocket and chattered into it as he led the other three up towards the house.

“Gold what?” Stan asked under his breath as they went out of sight.

“Don’t ask. I’m not sure whether he’s serious and it’s not worth crossing the path of the latest Patrol-O-Bot prototype to find out.” Ford peeled out of his sweater and hung that up next to his coat. “Where do we start?”

It took most of an hour for McGucket to make it back down to the garage, by which time they’d gotten the engine fluids drained and the banged-up hood removed. “Nice dings y’got there! Ford, she said it was that magnet gun o’yours did the deed? Maybe we can set up opposin’ fields, pop that sucker nice an’ flat again?”

Stan rolled his eyes a little and tuned out the dense cloud of nerd words that McGucket and Ford generated every damn time they crossed paths. Gibberish along the lines of ‘get a few more horsepower out of it’ and ‘polymer coatings’ and ‘increased fuel efficiency’ bounced back and forth as he methodically disassembled and labeled everything in the engine compartment.

They were all sweaty and grimy by the time Clary and the grand-nibs reappeared. Clary looked up at the sling-suspended engine with worried eyes, then drew breath and squared her shoulders, jangling a set of keys by their fish-shaped fob. “Guess who’s got a loaner,” she sang. “Tate is spotting me his spare truck. He let me raid the larder up at the manor, too, so I’ve got dinner covered. Anyone mind if I run the kids back down to the ranch?”

“What, all we had t’do for some replacement wheels was wreck the car even worse an’ drag it up here?” Stan grinned over her way and she grinned back, relaxing a shade. “Lookin’ good so far, Clary. Sure, seeya back at the Shack this evenin’.”

“Thank you, fellas. Thank you, Mr. McGucket!” Clary shouldered a canvas bag and headed for the far end of the garage.

“Call me Fiddleford!” came out from somewhere under the Fairlane.

The loaner turned out to be a lightweight pickup with ‘Tate & Backle’s Bait & Tackle’ decaled on the doors. Dipper, Mabel and Clary all loaded themselves in. Clary fired it up with a low roar and with three shouts of ‘wooooooooo!’ they peeled out down the long, curving drive back towards town.

“They’re going to get in trouble, aren’t they?” Ford peered out after them from behind the bulk of the kitbashed machinery he’d been using for cover.

“Less trouble than they’d get in if I were drivin’! C’mon, let’s finish pullin’ these pistons.”

Stan and Ford didn’t head back down until nearly sunset. They’d borrowed one of the manor’s ludicrous excess of bathrooms for showers, and Stan had ‘borrowed’ one of the thick, fluffy, pure-white, gold-logoed bath towels to take home through the simple expedient of folding it up and stuffing it under his arm.

The Stanleymobile’s usual parking spot was a lot emptier without the wagon angled in next to it. Mabel was waiting for them on the couch when they finally pulled in, snapping her scrapbook shut as they ambled wearily towards the house. “Gentlemen! Have we got a meal for you! How’s the car?” She waved them in towards the dinette.

“In pieces,” Ford said dryly. “It’s a good start at least. What did you make?”

“Oh, you’ll see.” Mabel waggled eyebrows at both of them and vanished off down the hallway. “Have a seat! We’re almost done!”

The dining table was dolled up with a tablecloth Stan was pretty sure had been a curtain last week and a candelabra nicked from a Summerween exhibit. He grabbed a chair just in time to dodge Dipper, who scurried in to drop off a plate lined up with neat rows of salami-wrapped mozzarella, olives and tiny pickles. “Appetizers!” he called in passing, doubling back to the kitchen.

Stan exchanged glances with Ford, shrugged and reached for an olive. “This oughta be entertainin’.”

A low argument between the younger twins, just loud enough to be audible, was intercut with sporadic bits of crackling radio. Clary walked through to set a pitcherful of water and a few glasses on the table, then leaned in to speak softly. “The soundtrack was not my idea, got it?” Stan was struggling to stifle laughter by this point; Ford resolutely bit into another pickle.

Eventually the crackle settled down into what sounded like distant cocktail-hour strings. Mabel marched in first and set down a bowl of fancified rice. “For your consideration, tonight’s menu is produced by our executive chef, Miz Clary Merrick!” Dipper and Clary shuttled in serving dishes until the table was loaded down - garlic bread, a couple different green things he didn’t pay much attention to, and chicken in some pale lemony sauce.

Ford’s nose actually twitched. “Where on earth did you find capers?”

“The pantry up at the McGuckets’ place is bigger than my entire kitchen. You wouldn’t believe the weird pickled things in there. Capers were easy.” Clary laid a napkin across her lap and reached for the rice. “Let’s eat.”

The whole spread turned out to be about a dozen steps above meatloaf. Stan demolished a pile of chicken piccata, went for seconds and found himself fork-dueling with Dipper over the last bit. “Settle down, you two.” Clary nudged back from the table. “There’s pie for dessert. Maybe after we’ve digested for a couple of minutes. But first - “ She steepled her fingertips and looked out critically across the empty dishes. “I have a proposal to make.”

Mabel bounced a little in her chair. “We want to throw a picnic!”

Clary glanced heavenward. “My sainted mother,” she said, kicking the nearest leg of Mabel’s chair, “was a terrible cook, but she had a few specialities and one of them was the family fried chicken. We’re going to have the big dance thing next Friday. So, with your permission, Ford, Stan.” Her chin dipped as she looked at them in turn. “I’d like to host a picnic lunch that afternoon for you guys and anyone else you think I should meet before I pack it up and head out.”

Stan conceded the last bite of chicken to Dipper - kid needed all the protein he could get anyway - but stole the serving dish and swabbed out every trace of sauce with a crust of bread. “Is your fried chicken half as good as this stuff?”

“Better.”

“Sold.”

Mabel beamed, teeth and braces gleaming, and - too late - Stan sensed the trap. “Fantastic! So we’re gonna need to do a bunch of prep.” Her scrapbook came out onto the table, bang, and she flipped it open to a page festooned with tiny curling streamers. Clary deftly snatched plates out of the way, handing them off to Dipper, who ran them to the kitchen. “We’ve got an invite list started, but Clary and I will need to schedule a couple of meetings. You know, to get everything organized since she’s gonna host. That means we have to get Grenda and Candy and Pacifica over here to help out - we need glamour consultants!”

“This means a slumber party, doesn’t it.” Ford’s eyes narrowed, but Stan didn’t see any way to wiggle out of it this time.

“Since everyone’s scattered all over town, it only makes sense to gather here, doesn't it? We'll have to talk about the menu, the décor, the clothes, the music, there's a lot to do.” Clary plucked the piccata bowl from Stan’s slack fingers. “I’ve been extended an invite which I’m honored to accept, so there’ll be adult supervision. Surely we can host for one night?”

Ford groaned quietly. Stan raised both hands, knowing when he’d been beat. “Fine. Deal. As long as you deliver on dessert.”

“Oh, I’ll deliver. Has everyone got their second wind?”

“Heck yes,” chorused the kids. Clary stacked up the remaining dishware, whisked it away and returned with some kind of lemon curd pie dolloped with whipped cream. It was too tart, too sweet, completely delicious and almost gone by the time they were all too stuffed to eat any more of it.

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“I’m glad to be here, Stan. I just hate it that I’m stuck.” She stares up at the dome light with tired eyes.

You could take a day trip to Bend with the bike.

We could probably get in another fishing trip.

So, that dance thing’s coming up on Friday.

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #OClicious #fanfic

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thewinterstories · 6 years

Text

Hurricane Eyes - Part 5

Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x oc

Word Count: 1821

Summary: Cat Austin is an investigative reporter with unanswered questions about Hydra. During a meeting with a source at a park, she’s attacked by Hydra. A mysterious man comes to her rescue. Now both of them are trying to get away before more Hydra agents show up.

Warnings: Language, death, violence

Takes place right after Captain America: The Winter Soldier

A/N: The last few chapters have been slow burn, but this is where things really take off.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

"You think your father is still alive?" Bucky asked. Given everything he'd been through, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Cat nodded. "I think they used the explosion as a cover for the church elders to get away. Mom and Eli were basically human sacrifices to sell the idea that everyone had died.

Bucky put his head in his hands. Here he was running from Hydra, running from everything they had made him, only to run into someone running straight at the organization for the same reasons.

"You know this is going to get you killed."

She sat back and looked at him. "It's worth it if I can get my answers."

"What are you hoping those answers will get you? Your mother helped you and your sister get out for a reason. "

His words hit her with force. "I've thought about that night at least once a day since then. About why she wouldn't go with us. My sister says it's because she would've been easier to track, but I don't know. All I do know is that her death deserves meaning. People need to know this isn't over, especially if it's tied to Hydra."

Bucky shook his head. "You need sleep."

"You need it more."

Before he could argue with her, she interrupted. "Look. We already established that you're running on nothing but nerves at this point. Get some sleep. I'm going to start working on the file."

"Okay, but when the sun comes up, we move again. Hydra will find your place soon. I did what I could, but it still isn't completely secure."

Cat smiled at him. "I'll get you a blanket." The image of her tucking in the feared Winter Soldier did seem ridiculous, but so did everything else in the last few hours.

After grabbing a blanket, she picked up the file from the kitchen counter. "Here's your blanket."

Bucky took the blanket but gave it a dubious look. He wasn't sure he should leave her on watch. Cat could tell what he was thinking.

"Look, Bucky, I couldn't sleep right now even if I tried. I'll be right here on the floor going through all this. If I hear the slightest noise, I'll wake you up. Promise."

He nodded and reclined back on the couch. It wasn't long before Cat heard slight snoring.

The file wasn't as clear as Cat would've liked. While it did include reports of a training camp for Hydra, it didn't specifically say where it was located. Some documents appeared to be in code and others were redacted. This was going to take more than a few hours work to fully understand.

The sun was beginning to peak through the barricaded windows when Cat finally started to yawn. She got up to make some coffee, careful not to disturb Bucky. The first drips of coffee started to fall into the pot when he finally moved.

"Good morning, sunshine. Would you like some coffee?"

Bucky lumbered into her small kitchen, his blue eyes still bleary with sleep. "Sure."

Cat reached into the cabinet and retrieved a mug that read "I need coffee before my coffee" and handed it to him. "There's sugar next to the coffee maker and creamer in the fridge."

"Thanks, but I drink it black. Sugar and creamer were luxuries when I was a kid."

"Grew up poor?"

"Not poor. My family did okay for the neighborhood we were in. Just a different time."

Cat frowned at him. Something wasn't connected right.

"Bucky, how old are you exactly?"

He stared at her for a moment. The tension was back in his stance like he was prepared to run. "What year is it now?"

"2014."

Bucky thought for a second. "That makes me 97 or so."

"What? 97? I know Hydra was involved in some strange experiments, but you seriously expect me to believe you're 97?"

He just shrugged and took a small sip of his coffee to check the temperature before taking a larger swig.

Cat returned to her coffee and let the conversation sink in.

"Bucky. Is that short for Buchanan?"

Bucky continued to concentrate on his coffee without giving her answer.

"Holy shit! Are you Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes?"

"That's what the display at the Smithsonian says." He continued to avoid eye contact. "I remember things in flashes, but nothing makes much sense."

Cat took a step towards him. If what he was saying was true, this was the greatest story since S.H.I.E.L.D. defrosting Captain America. "So what did Hydra do to you? You're supposed to be dead."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

She bit her lip. She was forgetting that he was a person, not just a potential lede story.

The conversation dropped off while they finished their coffees. Cat was just about to excuse herself to change when Bucky asked how her research had gone.

"Well, I found out there is some sort of Hydra-run youth camp. Couldn't get a clear read on where, but I do know it's in a mountainous area. I was actually going to ask you to take a look at some papers. They're written in code, and I was hoping you might recognize it."

He motioned for her to show him. Cat set down her mug and went to grab the papers from the living room. Just as she reached for the file, the love seat propped against the nearby window was shredded by gunfire. She immediately fell to the ground. From the kitchen, she heard Bucky yell, "Cat, don't stand up. Crawl back over here."

She quickly gathered up the file and army crawled back to the kitchen. As soon as she was back on the tile floor, Bucky jerked the refrigerator away from the wall to shield them from the hail of gunfire.

"Are you okay?" He pulled her up to a sitting position and looked her over for any obvious wounds.

"I'm fine."

"They're trying to force us out the door. My best guess is there's a team waiting outside."

"So how do we get out? That's the only way unless they stop shooting and you can jump three stories without breaking bones."

Bucky looked around her kitchen trying to put together a plan.

"Does anyone live next door to you?"

Cat shook her head. "It's empty right now. Management is renovating it."

"Stay here. I'll be right back."

Before she could ask what he was up to, Bucky leapt over the counter. Crouching low in the hallway, he gained a quick burst of speed and crashed through the wall into the next apartment.

Just as she had said, it was vacant. Bucky crept to the door and listened for any sounds in the hallway. He heard a shuffling noise on the other side. Risking a quick peek through the peephole, he counted at least three people in tactical gear.

He stepped back and planted a powerful kicked into the door sending it and one gunman flying across the hallway. The others had been trained on the door to Cat's apartment but scrambled to aim at Bucky. He grabbed the nearest barrel pointed at him and jerked the operative towards him. Grabbing him by the throat, he easily tossed him over the railing to plunge to the ground.

As he was turning to deal with the others, one opened fire. Bucky threw up his metal arm to shield himself from the bullets. One ricocheted off and hit an operative who fell to the ground with a grunt. That left one more he had seen through the peephole as well as two more he hadn't.

Bucky grabbed the fallen operative and used him as a human shield to get closer to the last three. When he was close enough, he threw the body at one knocking him down the stairway. He was close enough to another to grab him and shove him into the last man. The two fell against Cat's door hard enough to knock it down, but Bucky wasn't far behind. He stepped through the doorway and punched one man hard enough to give him a concussion. The last man was desperately trying to crawl away. Bucky stepped on his leg right behind the knee to dislocate it. The man cried out in pain.

Bucky crouched next to him. "Was it a kill or capture order?"

"Fuck you," the operative spit in his face.

Bucky grabbed the man's head and slammed it into the ground once. "Was it a kill or capture order?"

Cat peeked over the kitchen counter. "Bucky, what does it matter? Let's go!"

"It matters," he said without taking his eyes off the operative. "Last time. Was it a kill or capture?"

"Go to hell, Winter Soldier." The operative's tongue moved in his mouth to dislodge a cyanide capsule. "Hail Hydra!" He jerked a few times as foam filled his mouth.

"Oh, god! Is he dead?"

"We need to go. Come on."

Cat couldn't move. She thought she was prepared for what was ahead. She thought she could handle whatever nasty business Hydra would throw at her, but she hadn't thought it would include this much death.

Bucky grabbed his go bag and Cat's purse. Stepping into the kitchen, he pushed the refrigerator out of the way and grabbed Cat's hand. "Let's go!" He gently pulled her out of the kitchen and towards the door. Before stepping through, he quickly checked for anyone who may be hiding. Not seeing anyone, they walked out. Instead of taking the stairs, he walked towards one end of the open hallway.

"Cat, I'm going to pick you up now."

She didn't respond, only continued to clutch the file to her chest in a death grip. Bucky gently shook her arm.

"Cat? Catherine? Did you hear me?"

She blinked a few times before looking at him. "What? Yes."

"Okay. Here. Hold your purse."

Bucky lifted Cat into his arms and ran towards the railing. Just as they reached it, he jumped over it. Cat gasped as they fell, but Bucky landed on his feet.

"We need to find a car." He put her down and started walking towards the parking lot opposite of where she had parked.

"What's wrong with mine?"

"They know where you live. They know what you drive."

Cat shrugged. Of course, he was right.

Bucky found a late model car that was easy to hotwire.

"Where are we headed?"

"North until I find some place for us to hide."

"There's a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house in West Virginia."

He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road. "How do you know about that?"

"It was listed in one of the leaked S.H.I.E.L.D. files." Cat was quite proud of herself for remembering that obscure bit of information. It had only been mentioned once in a dull write up about the search for a rumored Asgardian artifact.

"Then that's where we're headed."

#the winter soldier #the winter solider imagine #the winter soldier x oc #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #captain america #catws

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trolleytrackstravelers · 6 years

Text

- | Sacrificial Lamb | -

A Toontown Rewritten Fanfic

Chapter One: The Devil and the Lamb

When a hole to Toon Hell pops open in Toontown, the Devil himself answers it’s appearance by coming up topside. However, he never anticipated running into a little lamb right off the bat!

A laugh, a honeyed and conceited one, rang out through the roasting hot caverns. "Jackie-boy! Tell me the good word, would'jya?"

It came from none other than Toontown's very own Beelzebub, Old Scratch and, in less formal terms, Satan and the Devil. Lucifer- Beg pardon, Lucy Loo, was reclining back at his well-kept desk, his feet propped on the polished surface. In the fires of Toon Hell that burned behind him, his red-and-yellow vest's vibrant colors fit the land just fine. There was a wicked grin on his chubby face, and as one hand drummed it's fingers against the desktop, the other was gesturing for the other demon to come in with a wry, beckoning finger. Even his tail, slender and sharply tipped, was wagging in a playful manner.

"I really needa pick up the slack, ya know?" Lucy continued, looking off to the side. "Needa kick my butt in'ta gear. Show me what'cha got."

"Mm-hmm~ You got it, boss," replied the other demon. Jack Cheatsley, formerly a cheating, sleazy Toon, had climbed his way up the ladder of the underworld with force and fame. Having landed a job as the Devil's right hand, Jack worked with pride, and a swelled sense of self worth, and it even showed in his grin and stride. The tall man approached the desk, then set a stack of papers he'd been carrying so carefully. With a wink to his name, Lucy took the papers to read over, beginning to frown. "Rumors've been spreading lately, boss. Something about them goin' after a "Slappy Quackintosh" in the Coglands. The Resistance, y'know? All those folks."

After milling over the details that Jack had described, the look on the little devil's face wasn't convinced. "Slappy? Whossat?"

"Oh, I never voted for the joker," Jack hummed, indifferent. "I was always more of a Flippy fella. See, those Toons held an election to figure out who'd take over their little town-"

The throne scooted loudly when Lucy leaned forward, putting a finger to Jack's pursed lips. "Ugh, politics? In THAT sunny-funny trainwreck of a town? Spare me the details, Jack.."

Shades of muddy red painted the ex-Toon's face, and the right-hand demon had to turn his gaze away to avoid showing off his encroaching blush. "Y- You got it, boss.. There's also rumor of some poor little deer taking a slip 'n fall, and now there's a fishing pool that turned all kindsa Gray. Somewhere smack in the center of Toontown."

Now THAT certainly caught Lucy's interest, his eyes brightening and a grin beginning to creep back up his snowy features. "... Is that right?"

"Sure is, boss." Clearing his throat, the slender demon shuffled through the papers for the stockier one, pointing out a picture of a fishing hole somewhere in Toontown Central. The water was Grayed out, and there were a few Toons standing around it, some with curious faces, and others with more worried expressions. "Poor little lady had a ‘nice fall,’ 'n her blood made the water go all Gray. A hole popped open somewhere near your building, too; Reckon it'd be an easy in and out, if you'd wanna go see it yourself."

"Easy in and out?" Lucy mirrored, his goofy glee unable to outweigh the danger in his smile. A brief tilt back in his throne, and he leapt over his desk- To the surprise of Jack, who had to back up in surprise -to begin walking to the gilded double doors of the office. His spectator shoes clicked along the stone and gnarled marble, a traceable sound amid the ceaseless crackle of flame and brimstone. "Sounds good 'ta ME! Those poor schmucks don't know the first THING about closin' up a portal 'ta Hell! Be back in five, Jackie-boy!"

"If you're not?" asked his right-hand man. Jack walked around behind the desk to push in the throne, neaten the stack of papers, and soon after, lean on the back of the cushioned chair. "Same as usual?"

The little devil nodded, halting at the doors to address Jack further. "Same as usual. Just keep the imps outta my office this time, huh? I'm sick 'a comin' back 'ta the place lookin' like a pigsty!"

"You got it, boss," Jack purred back. The doors were shut as the Devil himself left out.

It was time to pay Toontown a visit.

The issue with portals to Toon Hell cropping up was that, true to the demons' discussion, no one really knew how to close them. It was a matter of pulling people aside and looking for those who dabbled in magic, mainly the few wizards and magicians who roamed Toontown. Seldom could anyone find a pious enough Toon so devoted to the Creator, he or she could close up a portal almost permanently, if not for a very, very long time.

Where she sat kneeling, a teal lamb with frivolously curled wool was gazing into the Grayed out fishing hole of Silly Street. Lots of things tended to happen on this street, and it had caught the attention of kindly Poppy Squigglesmile! Lambs weren't too common in Toontown, but Poppy made due, and made her earnings as a resident of Toontown by gardening, with tips from a far-out filly by the name of Sunshine. Poppy's Platoonias could make even the saddest Toons smile again, for how much love and devotion she poured into her plants. A sweet young lady who favored the colors pink and cream, she only had two close friends to her name, that suited her just fine.

But, today, her normal cheerful disposition had been replaced with one of concern. She'd heard the rumors of all things Gray, and many Toons were convinced that the Cogs were trying to do something to their water supply, thanks to the most fretful of Toons trying to come up with an explanation of any kind. Poppy's brow pinched, and her hands stayed planted on the ledge of the fishing pool as she gazed down. What could be down there, now? Perhaps Cog garbage? Loose oil? Or something else? "I know you're hiding something, mister fishing pool," the lamb whispered suspiciously, beginning to lower her face down toward the water. "So don't hide anything from me!"

To her surprise and fright, a Toony-looking hand emerged from the Grayed out waters, in order to lay a finger against her rounded little nose.

"Don't hide nothin', huh?" Lucy began, propping his arms on the edge of the fishing pool with a pompous grin on his face. Poppy leapt back with a bleat, as though she'd just seen a ghost. "Well, here I am!"

"Ah! Y- You are?" she gasped back, her tone quavering back and forth with nerve. She couldn't move, stiff legged and wide-eyed. "How long were you down there, mister?"

"Name's Lucy Loo, lambface! I figure I was down there long enough, if you wanna really get into detail, heh." Turning his eyes away from Poppy, the grin on his face only widened. "Then again, I could show ya any time I wanted, really--!"

The Devil himself squeaked, squeaked LOUDLY, when the lamb fished him out of the water like a dropped doll.

"Well, mister Lucy, the Gray water is dangerous, you know! I tell you what, I'm going to dry you off, and then we can talk!" Poppy smiled, her bubbly self stepping away from the fishing pool and beginning to head down Silly Street. Her hooves clicked and clomped along the sidewalk like a horse's canter. "I'll be quick, I promise!"

"H- HEY! What's the big idea, lady?!" A bright red blush overtook the little devil's face, and he thrashed in the lamb's grip, voice cracking and squeaking. "P- Put me DOWN!!"

"I'll be quick!" she repeated, sliding around a corner on her hooves and charging off for a home that sat on the corner. Lucy's tail flailed behind them like a loose ribbon, and it made it rather hard to whip it about, or even whip her with it.

A dangerous hiss left the pint-size Satan, and he twisted to her arm, close to biting down on her peach fuzz with wickedly serrated teeth. One hard, strong crunch, and he'd be outta here. "Quick my foot! PUT ME-"

"We're here!~ I'll get you a towel!" Poppy loudly announced, opening the door with her foot and walking in. She dropped Lucy on a wide blue couch, and he stared in astonishment, mouth half-open, pointy teeth exposed. The demon quickly shut his trap, and when he frowned, his chompers were normal. The lamb scrambled across a messy floor, and she begun to dig in a closet, tail flicking excitedly. For a moment, Lucy watched her rustle through clothes and junk before looking off to his left.

A moment was taken to look over the disheveled room. She lived here, clearly, for her picture was framed up on the wall, next to a pudgy silver and pink retriever Toon, and a tall and cocksure looking rooster Toon. The room was an amalgam of aesthetics, if not a total mess, from comforting, to glitzy, to.. just there. There was soft music crackling on a radio, and the air reeked of cinnamon. But a question surfaced, when his gaze turned to the body on the wall; Who in the world owned a Cog suit, just to put it on the wall? It didn't even resemble a Cog suit, looking more like the rooster's talons had slashed up the body of a Cog, for the sake of the hunt--

A fluffy white towel was plopped on his head.

".. Gee, thanks," Lucy grumbled, lifting the towel to wipe off his soaked face. "So what's the deal, dame? What's with the snatch 'n go?"

"Oh!" The lamb turned around, and she smiled warmly, the opposite of his scowl. "Well, Gray is dangerous! My name's Poppy Squigglesmile! I live here with my buddies Domino Presto, and Gulliver Featherpow! We all pay rent, make food together, and-"

Poppy bleated softly when Lucy whipped his tail to cover her mouth. The rest of it's length looped around her wrists, and yanked her closer. The lamb nearly toppled. "Nah nah nah, that's not what I asked, missy Popsie. Why'd ya GRAB ME and RUN OFF?"

".. I was worried.. " Poppy admitted sheepishly. She rubbed her wrists together, trying to loosen the grip of the wire-thin tail that was digging into them. "I've never seen a Toon like you before, and I was very worried something happened to you! I'm very sorry, mister Lucy, but it's not in my nature to leave behind someone in need!"

"Listen. You're a sweet girl, I kinda get that from all the lovey-dovey sweetsy stuff, but I'm not 'someone in need,' got it?" The devil air quoted in a sarcastic manner, crossing his legs and reclining back on the couch. When Poppy was released, she gently touched at her wrists, then crossed the room to head for the kitchen. "D'ya have any idea who I am?"

"A new friend, I would hope! I really hope!" she called back warmly. After a moment's rustling about in the little kitchen, she turned the corner, holding a tray of fresh, hot snickerdoodles with mango colored oven mitts. "My friends will be home soon, and I know Domino loves company! I baked, too! Would you care for some--"

Lucy's eyes practically sparkled, and with avaricious hands did he grab hold of three of her cookies, unfeeling of the heat and blissfully unaware of her look of shock. "Snickerdoodles?! Y'know- Maybe I had ya all wrong, Popsie!"

"Oh!! That's good, I think!" The lamb only giggled, as her new guest promptly crammed all three of the cookies he'd grabbed in his grinning mouth. To see someone like her work, baking or otherwise, made her day! "They're hot, be very careful!"

".. Sheesh, ya really don't know who I am.." Lucy sighed through his mouthful.

#sacrificial lamb #dustyfic #toontown rewritten #toontown fanfiction #i hope yall like it!! i know i do!!#long #long post

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