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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

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You writing is soo cool, you're amazing! I don't know if you are taking requests, but what about a famous Y/N and meets professor Harry and he is like "I don't want to teach you, you are famous" and she is like "you are going to teach me and fall in love with me😏" and well, idk the idea just came to my mind and I thought of you to write it hahaha. Love your writing, keep doing it 'cause you are great!

Word Count: 9,443 LONG AS SHIIIIT

WARNING: FILTHY SMUT!!!!!!!! (I put ******** before and after the smut so you can skip if you’d like

A/N: Thank you SOO much to @mylittleangel9403 for this request and I’m SOOOO sorry it took so long. Turned out a lot longer than I anticipated. Not sure if you wanted this to be smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself. Also, shoutout to @gwenlovesharrystyles for the help on this imagine! Much appreciated!!Enjoy!

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Professor Styles

“Ma’am, respectfully, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Harry leaned forward in his chair, fingertips pressed together, aware of the large presence that sat beside him, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re already several classes deep, and as you know, my class is very difficult. She’ll be at a disadvantage going in, not to mention the students already in my class. The distraction isn’t fair for them.”

“Professor Styles, I don’t need to tell you how much this means to our University. I understand your concern, and I have every faith in you to help miss Y/L/N catch up to speed and keep your students in-check.”

He could feel the eyes of the famous singer on him as she uncrossed her legs and sat straighter in her chair. In his peripheral, he could see her burly manager, who stood in the back against a wall, take a step closer behind them like a bodyguard waiting to pounce. But for some reason, Harry had the distinct impression that Y/N could do without protection. He thought she was tough enough.

“Sir,” Y/N spoke softly and respectfully. Harry turned, seeing a reflection of yellow in her eyes as the sun shone through the window onto them, and he couldn’t help but think she was putting on an act for the Dean. “I know that the circumstances are...unusual. But, I promise I will do everything in my power to not cause any distraction in your class. I’ll sit in the back if that helps. Whatever it takes.”

The young professor took a deep breath, taking in her words. He looked around the room in thought, feeling everyone’s attention on him all the while. Some of the rumors about her seemed to ring true. Y/N had this energy about her that made it difficult to focus or think straight. She hardly took her eyes off of him throughout this entire meeting.

Harry sighed in defeat and nodded, “Alright. I trust she’ll be given the syllabus and information on everything she’ll need for my class?” he asked the Dean.

But before the Dean could respond, Y/N chirped, “I’ve already gotten it and I’m prepared to start next week.”

“Well, that’s settled, then,” the Dean grinned, victoriously, “Welcome to our school, Miss Y/L/N. Unless you have any more questions, you are free to go.”

Y/N stood up with a smile, followed by the Dean and professor. She stuck out a hand and shook them, saying, “Thank you so much. I look forward to starting on Tuesday.”

Her burly manager opened the door for her and she began to make her way out. And as Harry collected his things to leave, the Dean quipped, “Oh, Professor Styles. Before you head to your next class, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.”

Harry watched as Y/N closed the door behind her, almost certain he saw a wink, before setting his things back down and taking a seat once more. He listened as the Dean encouraged him to do all that he can to ensure Y/N had a good experience here, explaining how big of a deal this was and how Y/N taking his class might encourage more students to enroll.

Harry listened, respectfully, but wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes. It annoyed him that he was expected to baby Y/N and bend to her will solely because she was a rich and famous singer, and he refused to play a part in that. If she wanted success in his class, she would need to earn it just like the rest of his students.

When they finished their conversation, he was already running late for his next class. Again, he collected his things and made his way out of the office. As he speed-walked through the administration, he was surprised to see Y/N still there, sat on a chair beside her burly manager, talking. When she noticed him, she instantly jumped to her feet and raced up to him.

“Hey,” she said, simply, keeping his pace as they continued out of the administration building and into the main campus.

“I’m running late to my next class, Miss Y/L/N. Did you have a question, or can this wait?”

Her voice was so flippant that it bordered arrogance, “Just wanted to thank you again for letting me join your class this late into the semester.”

“It’s not me you should thank. I don’t agree with it and I won’t baby you. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you start reading your books so you’re not lost in my next class. Your classmates have worked hard to get to where they are and I’d hate for you to be the reason for a halt in their progress.”

“I think you’ll find that not to be the case.”

She was so smug that it caught him off guard. The looming of her large manager two paces behind him as they hustled down the walkway was even more noticeable now, along with the many whispers and stares as they continued. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, perplexed.

He debated whether to ask, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness or that he’d entertain her malarky. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“Miss Y/L/N, why are you taking my class?”

“Why not?” she smirked in response.

He sighed, annoyed that he was even going along with this, “We both know you don’t need to go to school, especially for Advanced Musical Theory. Why are you only taking my class?”

Her voice was softer and more sincere this time as she spoke, “I’ve always been interested in Music Theory and wanted to take it before my career kicked off. And I heard you were one of the best teachers in your field.”

For a split second, in that moment of sincerity, he thought he might have just seen her, the real her, behind all the fame and money and act. But her innocence faltered as she quickly shuffled in front of him, making Harry fumble to a stop.

Her eyes were more seductive now as she hushed, “Besides, I heard about how hot you were and I needed to see it for myself. And I’m not disappointed,” she looked at him through her eyelashes.

Harry could feel the warmth rise to his cheeks, extremely aware of her manager’s presence behind him and the few students nearby, staring. He was sure his face was bright red right now as Y/N’s smirk only seemed to grow.

Harry was aware of his reputation around campus for being the ‘hot teacher’. He wasn’t a stranger to the gossip or the occasional student trying to make a pass at him. And, honestly, his ego enjoyed it. But he’d never crossed that line with a student before and she would be no exception.

He did his best to compose himself and continued past her, Y/N following behind, “I’ll ignore that and just give you fair warning,” he started, “My class is hard and you will not be given special treatment just because you’re famous. I promised the dean I’d get you caught up, and I will. Your class is every Tuesday, and you can meet me in my office after each lesson for an hour for the next few weeks until we get you up-to-date on what you’ve missed. I will not play into your games.”

“Yes, Sir,” she pouted, teasingly, and again, jumped in front of him, holding a hand out and smiling, “Looking forward to next Tuesday.”

Harry looked at her suspiciously, pausing for a moment before ultimately giving in and taking her hand in his. But before he could respond, she pulled herself closer to him. So close that she was practically whispering in his ear.

“But just to warn you, not only will I ace your class, but by the end of the semester, I’ll make you call in love with me.”

Her breath was so hot and her words were so unexpected that he stood there, stunned, while she pulled away, winked, and walked back towards her bodyguard, heading back from where they just came from. She waved to a few students that recognized her, and she looked back once to blow a discreet kiss before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

Harry watched after her, stunned at her assertiveness while people were watching. But he shook it off and continued to his class, mentally preparing himself to break the news to his students.

The anxiety in the week leading up to the start of Y/N’s first official day in Professor Styles’ class was becoming more frequently accompanied by the Dean’s constant checking in on him to make sure everything was ready, more students visiting or showing up to class, and even more excited whispers. Harry, on the other hand, did his best to push it aside, not getting what all the fuss was about.

He had done his best to prepare his students for their newly joined classmate, even sending out mass reminder emails to those in his class to please be courteous and warning them to avoid distraction. But when he pulled up to the school that day, he noticed more students than normal just hanging around, scanning all over campus like they were scouting for something.

Harry quickly realized that they were waiting to catch a glimpse at the famous singer and he snorted, rolling his eyes. Kids were so predictable. He slipped his lanyard with his ID around his neck, grabbed hold of his coffee and briefcase, and got out of his car, heading towards his classroom.

The Professor smiled and nodded at the students that greeted him in the hallway, proud that he knew each of them by name, continuing to his class. He knew his students would already be there, by now. Harry was usually always a few minutes late and he assumed that it gave his students more than enough time to ogle their new addition to the class.

But, when Harry rounded the corner and saw Y/N leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and alone, his nerves increased.

“Harry,” Y/N beamed when she spotted him, practically skipping over to him.

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat, “It’s Professor Styles,” he warned, earning a sarcastic nod while he continued, “Why are you not in class?”

“I thought we could go in together since I’m new.”

“I’m your professor, not your babysitter. Go on in next time,” he said as they approached the door. Before turning the knob, he paused and faced her, “While you’re here, I’ll explain to you what I explained to them on the first day. I’m a pretty easy-going teacher because I know how hard this class can be. You can eat in my class, you can have your phones out, you can come in wearing pajamas, I don’t care. However, the biggest rule in my class is that you treat people with kindness. We do not judge in this class. We don’t interrupt people or talk over others, we don’t make others feel inferior. My class is a safe space for people to be their authentic selves and we respect that. Can you do that?”

Y/N’s stance softened and she grinned, nodding, “Yes. I can do that.”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “I’d like you to take a seat towards the back of the class for today if you don’t mind. I’d rather they pay attention to me than the back of your head.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” Y/N exaggerated his title, her lips twitching up in a lopsided smile.

He looked down at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes, trying to size her up, before he gave in and turned the knob to his class. The buzz from his students loudly chattering amongst each other instantly stopped when he walked in, closely followed by the singer. Harry vaguely noticed that not only was every single one of his students present, but they all looked slightly more put-together than normal. He snorted under his breath, dropping his briefcase on his desk, taking a sip from his coffee cup, and placing that down, as well.

“Morning!” He called out, earning a chorus of greetings in return. He gestured towards Y/N who was making her way up the steps towards the back of the class, “I’m sure you all know who this is. We are incredibly lucky to welcome Y/N in joining us this year.”

Y/N stopped climbing the steps to smile brightly and wave obscurely at everyone, “Hi!”

Harry nodded towards her to keep moving. She rolled her eyes, playfully, and continued while he explained, “I know we’re all excited to have her here, but I want to remind everyone that while we’re in the room, we’re all students, and that includes Y/N. Let’s all focus on what we’re here for, so we don’t get lost when mid-terms get here, yeah?”

After another muttering of agreeance, Harry noticed Y/N getting settled in the back and he nodded, starting the lecture, “Okay, what I’d like to do is a one-minute warm-up on today’s exploration on duple and triple meter. So, I need everyone to stand up.”

The rustling of chairs echoed and screeched as students got to their feet. Soon, they were marching along to Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles, everyone laughing and feet stomping on the ground. He felt proud, seeing all the smiling, attentive faces in his direction and happy that throughout the lesson, nearly everyone had seemed to grasp everything that he was saying.

But, each time he glanced up in Y/N’s direction, he noticed that not only had she not even so much as picked up a pencil or opened her laptop, she had not looked away from him even once. He made a mental note to reprimand her after class and continued on.

When the lesson came to an end, Harry thanked the class for their cooperation and the students began to pack up their belongings. He watched as Y/N was met by a group of kids who were considered to be more ‘popular’ around campus. He saw her friendly smiles, but could barely hear her over the noise.

Once Harry managed to gather his things and toss his now-empty coffee cup in the trash, he approached the group, earning a pleasant round of hello’s by the students. One of the girls, Jesse, made sure to bat her eyelashes a little more and lean closer than necessary as she spoke.

“Great lesson today, Professor Styles. I did have a few questions about musical texture and was wondering if we could meet privately so I could get some more clarity on that?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

Harry was used to Jesse’s incessant attempts at flirting with him and getting him alone, but he never took the bait, “I’m sorry, Jesse, I have no free office hours available, right now. But please shoot me an email with all of your questions and I’ll gladly help you out.” He heard sniggering from her friends as her face shifted into disappointment and he turned to Y/N, “Miss Y/L/N, when you’re done here, please meet me in my office so I can get you caught up.”

“Yes, Professor, I’ll be right there.”

He waited twenty minutes before he finally heard a knock on the door. He had half a mind to ignore it and let her stand out there, annoyed that he was wasting time trying to help an entitled celebrity who clearly had no interest in his class. What was the point? But, he thought back to the Dean, and reluctantly made his way to the door.

“Your students seem to really like you,” she confidently walked in, taking a seat on top of his desk and tossing her bag on one of the chairs, crossing her legs. “Especially that girl, what’s her name? Jesse?”

Harry blinked and slightly shook her head back before closing the door and rounding the desk she sat on towards his chair, not bothering to give the statement a response. But that didn’t stop her from continuing, “She’s like, in love with you. Well, maybe not in love. But you definitely make her horny.”

“Y/N!” You shoot back at the brassiness.

“She’s hot, I’ll give her that. But she’s definitely got that ‘daddy money’ vibe to her. She and her friends invited me to a party next weekend. And that kid, Mark, gave me his number. He’s pretty hot, too. Looks like some kind of jock.”

Harry nodded, shuffling his papers, “He’s here on a full-ride soccer scholarship.”

“Damn, I’m good,” Y/N leaned back, pressing her palms flat against the top of his desk, impressed with herself.

Harry looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. He wished he could say that her confidence astounded him, but honestly, he wasn’t that surprised. He could hazard a guess that her success was probably all handed to her. She joked about another student being given ‘daddy’s money’, but if he had to guess, she was probably the same.

He set the stack of papers down beside where she sat on his desk and looked up at her with a sigh, “Miss Y/L/N, my desk is not a chair. Please have a seat.”

She slithered down off the desk and plopped in a chair opposite him, scooting it closer and crossing her arms on the top, waiting for him to speak.

He relaxed his shoulders and continued, “You didn’t participate much in class today.”

“Well, you told me not to be a distraction.”

“Yes, but you’re still a part of the class. I expect more participation from you in the next class. And that includes note-taking. You won’t pass my class from memory. For now, I need to get you caught up.

Harry spent the next hour trying to get her caught up on the very first day of his class, which she interrupted every ten minutes, or so, going off-topic or asking very personal questions like ‘do you have a girlfriend?’ or ‘how many students have you been with?’ None of which he answered. When there were about ten minutes left in their time together, Y/N interrupted for the eighth time that hour and Harry groaned, unsure that she had retained any of the information he had provided her so far.

“What made you want to do this? Teach Musical Theory?”

He looked up at her and paused for a moment and she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. She looked genuinely interested, and it wasn’t often that he got asked these questions. He decided he’d entertain her, just this once.

Harry slid the paperwork away from him and sat back in his seat, “I’ve just always been interested in music since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, so have I. That’s why I became a musician. There are so many jobs in the musical field, why music theory?”

“Well, I am a musician. Not as big as you, obviously, but I have a small band and we play gigs around town. But the more I deep dove into music and the history behind it, the more I got into musical theory. It was a hobby and a passion before it was a career. And I guess I just wanted to show people how fun and interesting it could be.”

Y/N nodded, seeming content with his answer before saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good teacher.”

“You’ve only been in one class,” he chuckled, sitting up again and straightening out his papers once more.

She giggled, “Yes, but it doesn’t take long to know when a teacher is good or not. I see the way you interact with your students and hear the way they talk about you. Everyone seems to love you. It’s part of the reason why I chose to come here.”

“My reputation precedes me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” she grinned, before softly speaking, “You know, we’re not all that different, you and I. I’ve been passionate about music for as long as I remember,” she laughed and said, “I remember when I was seven years old my mom took me to the library and I must have read at least six books, cover to cover, about Chopin. I knew everything about him and even named my pet rabbit after him. Everyone thought I was crazy.”

“Classical music?” Harry questioned, surprised.

She nodded, sitting up, “I’ve played piano since I was two.”

Harry pursed his lips, nodding his head, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

They stared at each other for a moment, silence filling the room. She looked more innocuous now; harmless as she sat with one leg crossed over the other. By this small conversation she had, she could see bits of himself in her eyes and it made him bring his guard down. For a moment, he was fascinated.

But her expression changed, more curious, as she asked, “So, how many lucky girls get the chance to have this one-on-one time with hottie Professor Styles?”

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples, “You exhaust me.”

“Or guys, I’m not judging,” she shrugged, “Though that would totally suck for Jesse. She’s really crushing.”

“I’ve never dated a student and I never will,” he said blandly.

“Never say never,” she smirked, “Why not?”

“Because they’re kids and it’s inappropriate.”

“Kids?” she snorted, “You’re barely four years older than most of your students. And everyone is of legal age.”

“I am not having this conversation with you,” he said, packing his things, “Our time is up. I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She grinned, gathering her things together and following him towards the door. As he reached for the door handle, she quickly put a hand on top of his, stopping him from turning it and making him look down at her as she said, “Don’t forget, Professor. Never say never.”

He watched as she opened the door and slipped out, turning her head once to wink back at him before she rounded a corner.

Harry found himself nervous and somehow anxious for the following week to arrive. It was the first time for years he had gotten there before any of his students. Every time the door opened and a student arrived, surprised by his early presence, he noticed he would jump and whip his head in the direction of the door. He tried to tell himself that he was just jittery or had too much coffee this morning, but he knew that wasn’t the reason.

When Y/N walked through the door, he felt his heart start to race.

“Good morning, Professor,” she smirked at him as she made her way up the steps towards the back of the class.

He nodded but didn’t respond. He felt stupid for not knowing what to say. There were so many options; hi, hello, how are you? Nothing. Harry watched out of the corner of her eye as she made a dramatic show of pulling out a notebook and a pen, sitting back in her chair and propping her legs up on the desk, making her short skirt slip up her thigh even more, waiting while she tapped her pen on the paper while the other arm was crossed over her stomach and her thumb grazed against her mouth.

He shook his head, pretending to search his briefcase for something as more students started to arrive, annoyed at himself for letting her get to him. In his four years of teaching, this had never been a problem before. How was she doing it?

Y/N waved as the group of kids she was seen talking to at the end of the last class squeezed in and they all excitedly waved back, making their way back to the seats in the row in front of her, spinning in their seats to talk. He wondered what they were talking about each time he saw her laugh or look down at him and hold eye contact.

The lecture started smoothly. He had them do another goofy exercise to get them ready for the class and was able to keep everyone’s attention as he explained notes and scales. Harry noticed the singer scribbling down in her notebook and was relieved to see she was taking notes this time. But what shocked him, even more, was her participation. The Professor, although known to make teaching and learning fun, was also known to ask a lot of hard questions throughout the class. Most, of which, the students rarely knew the answers to. That’s why he was surprised to see Y/N’s hand raised after nearly every question he asked, and even more taken back when her answers were right. Every single time.

Students began to become amused, automatically looking in between the two when a question would arise, and giggling at the incredulous expression on his face when she had, yet again, gotten the answer right. If he didn’t know any better, he would bet that by next week the class would turn it into some kind of a drinking game. He could have sworn he saw Y/N giggle under her breath and even blow a kiss.

After class, once again, Y/N was grouped on the steps by the rows of desks with Jesse, Mark, and their other friends. Y/N would twirl her hair and smile towards Mark and seemed to have him wrapped around her finger, but Harry also noticed how she’d look over Mark’s shoulder at him and bite her lip. She knew he’d be watching, and he hated himself for it.

Quickly, he packed his things and left the room, heading to his office to wait for her there, wondering what they were talking about. He closed the office door behind him, tossed his briefcase on the floor beside the paper shredder, and decided against turning the lights on. He blamed it on a splitting migraine, but it was really because there were too many intrusive thoughts running through his mind that he was doing everything he could to ease it, including pacing the room.

The attempts, however futile, were short lived. Minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Y/N emerged, closing the door behind her, strutting right past him, and plopping on top of his desk again.

“How was that for participation, Harry?” she asked, propping a foot on the arm of his chair which made her skirt shimmy up her thigh just enough that if he were to look, he was sure he’d be able to see what she was wearing underneath.

He took a gulp and fought hard not to look down, lightly pushing her leg off of the arm of his chair so that both of her legs now hung down, taking a seat and crossing his arms, “It’s Professor Styles, and you did very well in class today, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Told you that I’d be a good student,” but her smile turned devilish as she spread her legs apart further and bent down closer to him, “But I can be bad if you’d like.”

“Please get off my desk and take a seat, Y/N. We’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” she exaggerated, slowly slipping off of his desk and rounding to the other side.

Again, Harry tried his best to catch her up on lessons she missed, but it hardly seemed to get anywhere with Y/N’s constant interruption of inconsequential questions and arbitrary thoughts that seemed to almost pour out of her mouth without thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath a few times. She wasn’t boring, he’ll give her that much.

The more she fought against his attempts at teaching her, the more he realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere unless he gave her a little of what she wanted. So when she asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” he sighed and ran his finger through his hair, giving in.

“No, I don’t. And why do you insist on coming to these meetings if you aren’t going to pay attention?”

“I am paying attention. You were talking about themes and motives of the piano and violin in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,” she said, confidently, crossing her arms, “I just think that it would be easier to come to class and learn if I knew my teacher a little better.”

He rolled his eyes at this attempt, but a smile crept on his face anyway, “What do you want to know?”

She smiled, sitting up, eagerly, “Well, it’s good to know you’re single. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

He sighed, uncertain why he was even taking part in this conversation, “A little over a year.”

“And you haven’t tried again since?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been busy.”

“Or you were heartbroken.”

The response stung a little. She was right. And that annoyed him even more. How did she do this? Get under his skin so easily? Instead of answering that, he retorted with, “Well, what about you? You’re obviously single, otherwise, you wouldn’t be flirting so much with your professor or the soccer star.”

Her smirk stretched wider, “Oh, are we jealous of Mike?”

He scoffed, grabbing the few pieces of paper off of his desk and attempting to organize it in the side filing cabinet, “No, I’m not jealous of a student.”

“Mhmm. Well, for your information we were just talking about the party they’re having this weekend.”

He tried his best to look confused, although he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that party since she mentioned it last week, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, it’s on Saturday. Not sure if I’m going yet. I’m sure my manager and PR would have my head if I was caught getting sloppy at a college party. Not good for the image,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.

He shrugged, “College parties aren’t all that great, anyway.”

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically, “Anyway, I have a concert the night before, so I’m usually exhausted by the next day. You should come.”

“To your concert?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, “Unless you don’t like my music?”

Harry shrugged, “I haven’t really heard much of it,” he lied, “but my sister’s a big fan.”

“Well, I’ll put you down for a plus-one. As long as it’s just your sister.”

Harry felt a lump beginning to form in his throat and he shook his head, “I already have plans for Friday. But thanks, anyway.”

She shook her head, nonchalantly, “Well, offer still stands if your plans fall through.”

He tried his best to reroute the conversation back on topic and was thankful that she seemed to finally go along with it. But as it neared the end of the hour, he felt her eyes on his face more and more. He looked up in the middle of his sentence and froze when he saw her eyes on his. She seemed entranced and almost out of it. And something seemed to pull him into the same trance as her.

It was the first good look at her that he had gotten since their first meeting. Her skin looked soft and her eyes sparkled when the sun’s rays shone on them at just the right angle. He hadn’t noticed until now that the bridge of her nose was slightly elongated and somehow endearing. And her lips. Those lips.

Y/N shook her head and stood up. It was the first time that she seemed to be caught off guard, and that stroked his ego a bit. He glanced down at his watch and noticed that they had run overtime and he gasped. She seemed to realize, too. Hurriedly, they both began to collect their things, but in the frenzy, she accidentally flicked her pen off the desk and it ricocheted on his side, landing on the floor near his briefcase.

“Oh!” he heard her mutter, rounding the desk where they both hastily attempted to grab it.

Harry was the first to grab it and as they both stood up, they were face to face with each other, inches away. They froze, again, unable to move. He saw something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before; nervousness. Y/N was always such a confident force, and to see her any less than that admittedly made him gratified, like he had obtained a victory. But he, himself, was losing the battle. She was breaking him down one wink at a time, and he had never felt so weak in his life.

He could feel the strain of his desire pulling him closer towards her, the gloss on her lips looked enticing. If no one stopped him soon, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off much longer. He saw her eyes begin to flutter shut as the gap between them closed. Her sweet, minty breath swirled in front of his lips, he could almost taste it. And then a loud knock on the door echoed around his office.

Y/N flew against the wall while Harry awkwardly knocked his elbow against the back filing cabinet just as Jesse haughtily belted into the room. Her wide smile slowly screwed up into trepidation at the awkward tension that filled the room as the professor and singer avoided eye contact with each other.

“Jesse!” Harry quickly spoke, “What can I help you with?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be finished. I just had a few questions about the essay, but I can just email you.”

“No, no, it’s fine, come in. Y/N was just on her way out.”

“Okay, cool,” Jesse smiled, stepping in further and placing her things on the chair opposite his desk.

Harry watched as the two girls exchanged friendly smiles, but he could see the slight embarrassment behind Y/N’s as she made her way towards the door.

“Don’t forget about this weekend!” Jesse called out after her, “I’ve never seen Mark so excited for a party before.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N faked a laugh, sharing one last concerned look with Harry before closing the door behind her on the way out.

All week he found himself analyzing all of the occurrences that led up to him and Y/N almost kissing. He debated his sentiments, trying to logic every feeling of vulnerability and affection away with a simple explanation. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to his work, constantly stumbling over his words of forgetting what he was talking about. When his class ended early on Friday afternoon and he sat in silence in his apartment, he stared at the blank television screen, contemplating whether or not he should take up her offer to attend her concert.

He paced the floor, opened and closed the fridge, tried to scroll through his social media apps, or read a book, anything to keep her mind off of her. He picked his phone up and stared at the home screen for a few minutes, constantly unlocking it when it got dark. With a final sigh, he opened it once more and dialed a number, putting it up to her ear.

“Hello, ya nimrod. What’s going on?” He heard his sister’s voice ring through the other end.

“How do you feel about going to a Y/N Y/L/N concert tonight?”

“You serious? Tonight? Bloody hell, yeah, I’ll go!”

“I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

Time only seemed to drag for Harry, left with nothing but his thoughts. It was enough time to go back and forth on whether or not he was making the right decision. Ultimately, he decided to go. He had already invited Gemma and he would feel guilty for bailing after getting her hopes up.

The sun was beginning to set and Gemma was singing loudly to Y/N’s lyrics in the passenger seat beside him. His palms were sweaty, gripped tight against the steering wheel. As the song ended, Gemma turned the volume down and turned to her younger brother.

“How did you get Y/N Y/L/N tickets, anyway? I didn’t know you listened to her like that.”

“I don’t, really. I mean, I’ve heard a few songs. But she’s my student and invited us to come.”

“She’s your student?” Gemma laughed, amused, “Cut the shit, Harry. How? Did you win them on the radio or something?”

“I’m serious. She’s taking my class.”

“What?” Gemma gasped, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think to.”

“You didn’t think to tell me that one of my favorite singers is a student of yours?” Gemma clarified. Eyebrows furrowed, she sat back and huffed, “Some brother you are.”

“Hey, now! I’m bringing you to her concert, aren’t I?”

The walk up to the ticket booth was one of the most humiliating things he had ever experienced as he uncomfortably explained who he was and that he was invited by the singer, herself. It took two people and a member of her staff to vouch for him before he and his sister were escorted through the venue and entered the pain event area through a private entrance that led them towards a VIP barricade towards the front of the stage. Thousands of screaming fans surrounded them, and Gemma looked around, shocked at the scene.

“This is insane!” Gemma shouted in his ear, bouncing on the balls of her toes.

Harry had to admit, it was pretty cool to see all of these people here for Y/N. He felt a sort of pride for her that he wasn’t quite expecting. And it didn’t take long for the lights to dim and the music to start.

He heard her before he saw her, and he felt his heart start to race again. He tried to play it off by the screams and the thumping bass, but when she finally came into view, he felt like he had been bolted to the floor, unable to move or talk or even smile. He was just stunned. Seeing her on stage was surreal. He knew of her, first, but it was hard for him to dissociate ‘student’ Y/N from ‘famous’ Y/N.

When they caught eyes and she realized he had come, a smile stretched across her face behind the microphone. He couldn’t help but mirror her, his shoulders relaxing as he managed a gentle wave. She walked closer to them on the stage, singing down at them, and he could hear his sister repeating ‘Oh my god, oh my god’ beside him as Y/N waved back in their direction.

Y/N was talented, there was no denying it. And the way that she interacted with her fans, you could tell that she was grateful for every second of it. It was touching. She was knocking down his assumptions about her little bit by little bit. He always thought that she’d be a spoiled, ungrateful celebrity, but that seemed to be completely false.

By the end of the concert, he had eased up and began to jump around, goofily, with his sister while Y/N watched, dancing around on stage, laughing and singing. Finally, the burly manager he had seen on the first day of their meeting with the Dean had approached him and his sister, informing them that they were invited backstage and to follow him.

His nerves began to rise in his chest again as they wove down several corridors until eventually, they stood before a door with Y/N’s name taped on it. The manager knocked loudly and waited a moment before they heard her voice on the other side call out, “Come in!”

With a turn of the knob, Y/N was now seen. She was in a new, more casual change of clothes and her hair was now up, but with visible beads of sweat lining her forehead and neck, she took a long swig of water.

“Hi!” she called, capping her drink and beckoning the two in, “Come in, come in! I’m so glad you came!”

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” Gemma tip-toed closer to her, smiling coyly as the door was closed behind them.

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Y/N grinned, giving Gemma a much-wanted hug, “Please tell me you’re Harry’s sister.”

“Yes, I’m Gemma, his older sister.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he’d bring a date,” Y/N said, boldly, “He’s been playing hard-to-get.”

“You’re interested in my brother?” Gemma asked, astounded, “You’re way out of his league.”

Harry’s mouth fell open as Y/N laughed, “Yeah, and you’d think that’d be enough for him, wouldn’t you? But apparently he’s got standards,” she hyperbolized, rolling her eyes.

For an hour, Harry watched and laughed as Y/N and his sister talked and got to know each other more. They made jokes at his expense, and exchanged stories from their childhoods, shocked by how similar they seemed.

“You grew up around here, right?” Gemma asked the singer, taking a sip from her second beer of the night.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, about fifteen minutes from here.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing the only residential area in a fifteen-mile radius wasn’t exactly known to be the best neighborhood. Y/N seemed to gather his thoughts, further explaining, “It wasn’t always easy. My siblings and I were cramped in a two bedroom apartment and we didn’t have our own phones until well into our teens. I missed out on a lot growing up, but my parents did their best. We had everything we needed. I was lucky to be able to get all this and get them out of that apartment. My parents deserved a big house and a yard. I owed them that much.”

“How did you do it? How did you get to this point?” Harry asked, astounded.

Y/N shrugged, “Right place, right time. I was found singing at the mall for a small gig at a Christmas event. The rest is hard work and history.”

Harry shook his head, speechless. He felt guilty for passing judgment on her before, assuming that it was all handed to her and that she had got her start because of her parents' connections. She was self-made, smart, and deserving of every bit of success that came her way.

After one more round of beers, it was getting time for them to leave. Harry could see the excitement in her sister’s eyes start to be replaced by fatigue, and as much as he wanted to stay and talk some more, he knew he had to get a jump start on grading papers.

He set his empty bottle of beer down and Y/N frowned, “Time to go?”

“Yeah, should probably head out,” Harry nodded, pausing for a moment and taking in the frown on her face. He didn’t have time to think before he blurted out, “Want to join us for the ride?”

Her eyebrows raised and her lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah, sure.”

Gemma let Y/N take the passenger seat and Harry felt tense as he drove, hand shifting the gears right beside her leg. He smiled every time he heard her laugh, though he couldn’t quite pay attention to what the girls were talking about. He was able to gather that they exchanged phone numbers before he reached Gemma’s house. His sister gave them both kisses on the cheek before bounding up the steps to her home.

The silence was deafening and Harry was certain she could hear him gulp as he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

He knew what she was going to say. He didn’t need to ask. But to hear it come out of her mouth was something almost too much to handle, “Your place.”

He reversed out of the driveway, barely croaking out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she asked, turning towards him.

“You’re still my student.”

“So? We can just talk.”

Harry turned and looked at her, giving her a knowing look, “You know it’s not to just talk.”

“Why can’t it be? You don’t have any self-restraint? Is it because you like me?”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he fumbled out a, “No.”

“Well then, what’s the problem?”

“......Fine.”

There wasn’t another word uttered for the rest of the journey to his place and he began to overthink. Was his apartment clean? Had he done the dishes? How messy was his room? Did it smell? He knew he should have gotten that diffuser from the store last week.

His nerves rose as he led her up to his apartment complex, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights, breathing a sigh of relief to see that it was, for the most part, fairly tidy. Y/N walked past him, scanning the scene, and as he locked the door he also held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

“Nice view,” she noted, briefly looking out of the window before turning to face him.

He tossed his keys on the entry table and motioned towards the kitchen to his left, “Drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” she said, making her way towards his living room.

He took the moment to catch his breath, trying to regain control of his thoughts before joining Y/N on his couch, handing her the drink. They both took a swig and he felt her eyes bearing holes into him, again.

When he set his drink down, he turned to her, “You’re very intense, you know.”

She smirked, leaning into the couch some more, “Yeah. I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that.”

“You.”

The immediate response caught him off-guard, but he wasn’t surprised by the answer. At this point, he knew exactly what she wanted, and was only feeding his ego more. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by her and hadn’t thought about the same, but a part of him liked the chase.

He chuckled, sitting back, “You’re my student.”

She moved closer to him, more energetic this time, “I just happen to be into Musical Theory, that’s all.”

“You’re still my student,” he grinned, amused, patting her leg.

“So, what if I drop out? Would that change anything?”

Harry’s grin faded and his hand stayed where it was, resting on her thigh. He stared into her shining eyes again, seeing the seriousness behind them, and he froze, unsure of what to say. Would it change anything if she dropped out of his class? He wasn’t sure it would even need to come to that if she kept looking at him like that any longer.

His eyes flickered from her eyes, to her lips, and back up to her eyes as she waited for a response. He debated whether or not to just give in and kiss her right there. She wanted it, he wanted it, why keep fighting it? There weren’t any rules against relationships with students at his University, not like they’d even fight him on this one; they’re the ones that basically told him to give her everything she wanted.

But when he didn’t respond, Y/N pulled back away. He slumped, kicking himself for not pulling a move sooner. And after a moment of silence, she asked, “Hey, is it okay if I use your shower, real quick? I’m still sweaty from the show and I feel gross. I can take an uber home afterward.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind. Was that a move? Or an invite? Should he ask to join her? Why did she have to leave? He could drive her home, she didn’t need to take an Uber. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

He showed her to the bathroom and went to grab her a towel from the linen closet as she adjusted the knobs and stuck her hand under the flow of water, gauging the temperature. By the time he got back in, she seemed happy with the warmth of the flow and took her hair out of its bun, placing the hair tie on the edge of his sink. He hung the grey towel on the rack beside the shower.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he muttered.

She smiled, “Thanks,” and before he was fully out of the room, she began to pull at the ends of her shirt. Quickly, he scurried out of the bathroom and closed the door to give her privacy.

Once out, his hands shot up to his forehead and he crouched, mumbling to himself a frustrated, “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you? Idiot!”

He sat impatiently on his couch, waiting for her to finish. When he heard the screech of the knobs turning and the pressure from the water fade, he shifted his position and quickly forced his attention elsewhere, trying to act casual. But when he heard the creak of the door opening, he turned his attention to see Y/N standing in the doorway, bathroom light glowing behind her, hair rang out and damp, clutching the towel around her body.

His eyes widened a bit as she spoke, “Do you have clothes I can borrow? Mine are still covered in sweat.”

“Uh, yeah, probably. In my room,” he stammered, getting to his feet and leading the way to his bedroom.

She followed, her feet lightly padding the wood floors. He felt almost embarrassed to have her in his bedroom. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like it was dirty and he didn’t have anything oddities displayed, still, it was an intimate space, and to have her there felt personal.

He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser where he kept his pajamas and motioned towards it, standing up straight, “You can borrow anything from here.”

She bent down in front of him to rummage through, giving him a better look at her back. It looked clean, soft, and supple as droplets of water still lined her back and dripped from the ends of her hair, getting absorbed by the thin white towel she had wrapped around her. When she stood up, he took a step back and she turned, holding one of his oversized white t-shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants.

He stood there, unable to move as she stared at him, raising an eyebrow. And still, as she tossed the clothes on the bed behind him, he found himself, once again, rooted to the spot. A smirk started to form on her face and her voice was soft and playful as she spoke.

“How’s that self-restraint going?” she teased.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her. And when her playful smile began to shift into something more alluring, he held his breath, watching as she untucked the towel around her chest and let it fall to the ground. His eyes instantly dropped to her exposed chest and he felt his heartbeat pounding rapidly in his chest as she stepped closer to him, barely twelve inches, refusing to take her eyes off of his.

“I know you want to,” she whispered, stroking his arms before taking hold of his hands, lifting them and placing them on her chest, “Touch me.”

He felt his erection becoming uncomfortable as he ran out of room in his pants for growth, massaging her chest. His attention roamed back up, locking eyes with her again. There was no stopping it.

************************************************** In a bout of passion, they threw themselves at each other, hungrily attaching their lips to one another, tongues circling and roaming the other’s mouth. Y/N tore fabric after fabric off of him as they spun, grabbing at each other roughly and without deliberation. Soon, they were both naked and knocking into walls and tripping over clothes.

Harry pushed her up against the dresser as she grabbed hold of his dick, pumping her hands up and down his shaft as he moaned into her mouth.

“Does that feel good, Professor?” she bit his lip with a smile.

“Ungh,” he grunted, pulling away. He spun her around so that her back was to his chest, and forced her down to bend over his dresser, propping one of her legs up on the top of it before he got to his knees, burying his face in her muff.

She cried out, “Yes! Teach me, Professor!”

He flicked his tongue inside of her, lapping up all of her juices while he rubbed himself. He could have kept going for hours, but he could feel her legs start to tremble. When he stood up, he slapped his cock on her ass a couple of times, swiping his tip against her entrance enough to get it lubricated before slipping right into her.

Y/N threw her head back, breathing, “Oh my god, you feel so good, Harry.”

He wrapped an arm around her neck while his other hand clasped over her mouth as he grunted, “Professor Styles,” before sucking on her shoulder blade.

When he loosened his hand from her mouth to take hold of her hip, she whined, “I’m so sorry, Professor Styles. I’m not always bad.”

“No, Y/N,” he pulled out of her, spinning her to face him, tempting her as he walked backwards towards his bed, “You’re my good girl.”

The back of his legs hit his bed and he scooched himself back, letting her climb over top of him, straddling his hips. She bent down, biting his lip again as she lowered herself onto him, gasping as her cunt swallowed him up.

She leaned back, letting him get a better look at her, breasts jumping up and down along with her. He ran a hand from her cleavage down to her navel, grazing her soft skin and watching as her mouth formed an ‘o’, scrunching up her eyebrows in pleasure as she called out his name.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathed, an arm behind his head as he watched, “Make me cum.”

She rode him faster, breathing heavier as he continued to grunt, propping himself up now and suckling on her skin. Her breaths became more shallow and her movements more rigid as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing herself onto him even harder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down onto him, even more, to go deeper. He could feel her throbbing around him, which only made him more aroused.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he breathed, “Cum on my dick.”

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and with three more pumps she let out a scream as she said, “Pro-fessor Styles!”

He smirked, quickly flipping her on her back and pumping harder and faster into her as her legs wrapped around his waist. She panted, squeaking as he grunted into her. He looked into her eyes which were full of lust as she stared back into him and he could feel himself start to build up. Even faster now, knowing he was about to finish, he smashed his lips down on her quickly before pulling out and squirting his jizz on her stomach, letting her rub out every last drop.

*******************************************

He collapsed on the bed beside her as they panted, trying to catch their breath before he got the strength to reach down and grab his shirt for them to clean up the mess.

When he turned to face her, she smirked, “Do I need to drop your class? Or can we fuck in your office next time?”

He let out a breathy laugh and mumbled, “That depends. Are you going to the party with Mark tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to?” she retorted.

With a deep breath, Harry shimmied closer to her, nuzzling his head into her chest which made her wrap her arms around him, running her fingers through her hair as he whimpered, “No.”

She laughed, kissing his curly brown locks, “Told you I’d make you fall in love with me.”

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

Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwenlovesharrystyles , @harryswinterberries, @gucciboots, @golden-grande, @ilovedogs1989 @f4llingfairy

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #Professor! Harry #Harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction smut

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years

Text

TH| You Monster

Summary: you want a peircing and Thomas says no at first, but let’s switch the language

Warning: exposed breasts, language and a bit of anger. Nibbling and white t-shirts.

You and Tom sat on the couch, eyes glued to your phones and sitting in silence. You bit your lip thinking about something that you want to do, but Tom might call it a stupid idea.

Jacob, jake, and zendaya left about 20 minutes ago, you guys were playing board games and having cold beers.

“Hey babe?” You ask, looking up at Tom. You finally had the courage to ask because it wasn’t that big of a deal, what’s the worst he can possibly say?

“Hm?” He looks up from his phone, eyes immediately scanning your face, “I know that face, you're either nervous or wanting to do something. Come sit!”

He smiles but squints his eyes, trying to read you as you give a big grin and stand, walking over and sitting next to him.

“Soooo” you smile, slapping your hands together before putting them on your lap. You look over and Tom who has his eyebrows raised, completely confused but amused wanting to find out what you wanna do.

“Would you hurry up? I feel like your breaking- wait are you breaking up with me!” He rambles, his eyes widening and his hands go to his hair. You scrunch up your face at his stupidity, shaking you head no as he looks at you and sighs in relief, placing a hand on his heart.

“Okay, I know your probably gonna think I’m fucking crazy or something buttt” you hold on to the t, biting the side of your lip before speaking up.

“I want nipple piercings”

One eye is squinted as his neck expands, his mouth open and the side of his lip sticking up. Obviously confused, but he laughs and shakes his head.

“No”

You smack your lips as his face relaxes, your head jerking back and to the side, You wanna pop him in the back of his head as hard as you can. But you decide it’s not a good look, but also you fume and lift your engulfed fists and look at them.

“And why the hell not?” You ask, fake hitting him and he jumps up, covering the back of his head knowing what about to come up. He slowly retracts himself and sits up straight letting out a hmph before explaining.

“Because I should be the only one looking at your breast-“

“That’s the most dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, Thomas” you say, crossing your arms and tilting your head.

“Well my answer is still no”

“Well since when did the fuck I ask? I just told you what I wanted”

“Then I’m coming with you”

…

There he sat in the car, lumped in the passenger seat with his jaw clenched and his arms crossed tight across his chest. Muttering things you couldn’t really catch as he was looking at the road, clearly annoyed that you're paying no attention to him.

Right now you are in the zone, bumping to your most littlest music while sitting up in your seat, only arching your back when the beat drops, your face scrunched as you bopped your head to the beat also, banging you hand on the steering wheel.

You turned to him as you stopped at the red light, lip singing to him, pointing at him as he just continued to look forward, his jaw only tighter. You laughed as you lifted your finger to his neck and digged in there, he’s currently trying his hardest not to laugh as he puts his shoulder to his ear. You twirl you finger and bite your lip trying to find a spot and break him.

“Come on babe! Loosen up a bit!” You giggles, grunting as you squeezed your finger between his shoulder and ear, he busts out laughing, “now there’s the man I know”

“Whatever, green light” he mutters, ripping your finger from his neck and sitting up straight, a large smile slapped across his face.

…

“Calm down Thomas, I’m pretty sure it’s a girl anyway” you say trying to cheer him up, he’s a bit self conscious because he knows you have a soft spot for people with tattoos and piercings, and the only tattoo he has is on his foot.

“Oh and that makes it so much better, I don’t forget that easily that you like girls also, let’s go please” he mutters the last part, reaching up and pinching the roof of his nose, slowly calming himself because your no help at this fuckin point.

You sigh and roll your eyes, opening and stepping out of the car, shutting it softly behind you.

“There’s no way in hell im letting this lil boy get to me” you whisper to yourself as the toddler steps out of the car, following you with a fake small grin on his face.

As you step in the tatto shop you see there’s a Asian male, young 20s with that glowing but inked skin. Holy shit, you thought.

He gave you both a smile, sitting behind a little stance waiting for you both to get there.

“Woah, this is so cool!” You walk up as you look around at the different styles, the tattoo guns and the rine stone little shop for your teeth.

He chuckles and taps the tall desk “what can I do for ya?” He says in a rather American accent.

“Oh, god I don’t know how to say this” you close your eyes tight, Thomas chuckling but putting on his bold face, trying to stand tall but he’s short… as fuck. Kinda

“I’m guessing the nips?” The worker chuckled.

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“Because you looked at the rings for it” you giggled as you looked away from them, finding his eyes and nodding.

“Alright, right this way” he stands up and moves from behind the desk, putting his hands out to gesture to the back room. Tom starts to slowly calm down, thinking that the worker is nice because he involved him.

“The names jordan by the way” he smiles and entering the room. It has black walls with designs on it with the window open, the sun beaming in the room for brightness and a nice percent of wind, two seats next to the table that you’re supposed to lay on.

Jordan goes to the room connected to the current one, shutting the door behind him.

“See! Jordan is nice, he isn’t after you!” You whisper yell, smacking the side of Toms arm as he bites his lip, still hesitant.

“We will see when he asks you to pull the shirt off, Y/n” he death stares you, his lips pursed as You smack your lips and roll your eyes, sitting on the table while he sits next to you. Silently waiting for Jordan to come back.

“Let’s get that shirt off- wait that sounds wierd” he cuts himself off, laughing off his stupid comment as he sits down with his hands in his pokets.

You smile and take off your shirt casually, not trying to impress anyone. Your breasts slap against your chest as Tom scrunch’s his lips waiting for Jordan’s reaction or response. Jordan puts on his clean rubber gloves and stares at your nipple, turning his head side to side.

“Mind if I?” He asks looking up and Tom, Tom raises his eyebrows, not knowing what he’s asking.

“Touching?” He corrects himself, his day going great, or atleast it looks like it. Not annoyed at all, buster.

“Y-yeah, g-go ahead” Tom stutters, jordan letting out a distant chuckle and lifting his hand to cup your boob.

Tom is instantly fuming but he knows better not to do anything, or else a hard ass slap on the back of his head. Which is very unpleasant, to him that’s a fucking understatement. His face a bit red, trying to think of something else other then the obvious sight of another man cupping your boob and moving it around. He silently balls his hands when really all jordan wants is really to go is find the right size.

“Alright I think we’re gonna go for the medium size” he lets them go carefully, picking up the medium sized ring peircing that has a ball on the middle of them and moving it to a little tray before picking up a needle.

“Oh shit, I don’t think I was prepared for this” you whisper as Jordan laughs, picking up any other necessary tools for your perky nipples.

“It’s gonna be a little pinch alright?” He asks, grabbing a little achol wipe and brushing over them, the coldness making you jump and let out and crackly “oh!”

And no, it isn’t sexually, youre suprised form the contact.

“I feel like your lying, hold my hand” you reach out your hand for Thomas that he gladly accepts, you give him a smile and a reassuring squeeze.

He smiles and stares at Jordan’s covered hands as he grabs the tools that look like scissors, but not a sharp tip, just squeeze thingies.

The clips it to one of your nipples and you really, like really, AINT feelin that coldness, your back jolts and Tom laughs at you, making you glare at him.

“Alright this let this over with” Jordan mutters before putting the needle next to your nipple.

“1, 2-“ he pierces them, you wince and suck a hard breath, only squeezing Toms hand a little, before repeating the process again.

Tom hurries and lays, taking the keys from you and driving home.

When he got there, he wanted to rip your shirt off but you continuesly told him he can’t because they need to heal first, he pulled you in the house and shut the door, taking you to the couch reminding himself to lock the door later.

“Can I finally see them!” He smiles before looking at your white t-shirt, the loop sticking through the shirt.

“Yeah yeah Thomas, hold on” you softly pulled off your shirt and set it to the side, Thomas’s mouth falling agape and slightly drooling from your breasts falling on your stomach, a noise made in the process. He admired them and carefully played with them.

You both didn’t even notice the door open as Harrison enters with some KFC in his hand, quietly placing it on the kitchen counter as starting to walk to the livingroom wanting to scare the both of you, once he’s right there.

“Boo!” He scares the both of you, you turn around finding Harrison, his face beat red as he notices youre topless.

“Oi fuck off mate!” Tom scolds, using his hand to cup your breasts harshfuly.

You shriek in pain “OW! Thomas!” You slap his hand away, along it hirt only more as you almost sob in pain. You put your t-shirt back on as Harrison’s eyes are closed shut, leaning on the wall for support.

…

Its been a while and they healed, Tom only falling more in love with them, knowing he can change them when he pleases.

Now for fun he nibbles on them, when you sit on that same couch and watch Disney channel he plops beside you, casually pulling out his phone before draping a leg over your lap and behind your back, him getting closer and reaching down to chew on them while he scrolls through Instagram as you wrap a arm around his hard and play with his hair, his favorite type of piercing on your nips is a steel barbell with marijuana flowers on the sides of them, it really complements your skin he always thinks but says “they make my teeth feel better”.

Your friends saying that they seen your t-shirt with a large wet spot around your nipples is normal is a understatement.

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lavalampelfchild · 3 years

Text

Lava’s Art Masterpost

Hey, all! Welcome to my art masterpost! I have no idea if this is a thing that is done typically for art, but oh well, I like organizing things, so here we are! What you’ll find here is mostly Dragon Age, with a few non-DA pieces in there, and there’s a range of styles I like to use, depending on my mood. But a lot of what you’ll see will most likely combine lineart with some other form of coloring/shading.

Feel free to browse at your leisure, and I hope anyone who stumbles upon this enjoys what they find! :D And thank you to anyone who sees this and likes, or reblogs, or even just stops by to peruse a bit!

All that said, away we go!

Digital Portraits:

1. Portrait of Nameless Woman, 2020 - This one is just an experiment with a watercolor brush that I did. It’s not anatomically perfect, but I enjoyed playing around with shading.

2. Sketch of Aja Amell, 2020 - This one is basically sketch practice with my Amell~ Not really the most expressive pictures, but it’s a start toward drawing her more expressively. Full disclosure: Aja is one of those OCs of mine that I have had trouble with deciding on a definitive appearance for several pictures, and I really want to work on upping my level of consistency when drawing her.

3. Long-Haired Fenris, 2020 - Exactly what it sounds like; this was for practice drawing Fenris’s features (I love how distinct they are), but with long hair because I am weak for it. This one was a fun piece to shade, and mixing the stylized lineart that I normally use with a greyscale shading spectrum was really enjoyable.

4. Portrait of Ilorin Lavellan, 2016 - This is an oldie. Basically practicing expressions, and it is technically a WIP, but I’m still very happy with how the shading turned out, especially because this is actually (aside from the unfinished hair) one of the more minimal pieces I’ve done in terms of lineart It’s still there, and it still shapes the flow of the picture in some ways, but it also ends up flowing with the shading instead of standing out next to it, which I like. (Both styles are good, though, and I love seeing other artists try both too.)

5. Old Portrait of Aja Amell, 2016 - Much older picture I did of Aja; she... honestly looks very little like the newer one, I think, and that consistency is something I’m still working on, but this one was the first picture of Aja with that particular hairstyle I drew. What I like about this picture is how young she looks; it fits with her image as a fresh and sheltered Circle mage who’s only about 20 years old at the time of DAO.

6. Old Portrait of Trilyn, 2016 - They very first piece of art I posted to tumblr~ It’s not exactly how I envision Trilyn anymore, but it was still very fun to draw, and helped me get a feel for drawing him in the future.

Dynamic Movement Pictures/”Moment’s in Time”:

1. Tabris in Arl’s Estate, 2020 - TW: blood. I am super proud of this one. My ultimate goal is to draw all of my Warden DAO OCs, and I could not believe I’ve never drawn my Tabris, and so here she is. This was, in large part, practicing expressions because I absolutely love art that depicts characters in motion, or capturing some kind of expression.

2. Velyn in the Rain, 2017 - This one was actually based on some art that I saw in a Teen Wolf fic! It was an experiment with a more expressive style (and one of the first pieces I did without lineart left in the finished version) and it was a huge step out of my comfort zone. But overall, I am extremely happy with how it turned out.

3. Jem Nocking an Arrow, 2016 - And here is the lineart version. This was entirely an excuse to draw my DAI baby, Jem, and to do a cool archer pose because archers are my fav, and I love characters in motion.

4. Solas Teaching Trilyn Fade Magic, 2016 - This one was a painterly picture that was also (like the Velyn picture) something which I tried to keep lineart out of. Overall, I am proud of a lot of parts of the pic, but I think I would definitely go back over it and change a few things now if I had the patience.

5. Trilyn Closeup WIP, 2016 - TW: injury, blood, mention of abuse in the author’s note. A lot of early pictures I have are of my OC, Trilyn, and this is one of my absolute favorites. His entire upper body is technically in the picture, but I hadn’t finished rendering it yet, so this was what I posted. And it was an experiment with a cross-hatching style with the pencil tool for some texture, with air brush shading and a blurring tool. It’s a style I had fun playing around with!

6. Trilyn Blood Ritual, 2016 - TW: blood, injury (the slight cut used to supply the ritual with blood). This one was definitely a sort of “captured moment” from a backstory I gave Trilyn, and I think what I was really going for was an atmospheric piece that could fit with any potential fic I wanted to write for Trilyn. And then it ended up being practice for extreme lighting/shading techniques, and drawing the blood and the gross mass of demon ichor (or whatever the heck that is) turned out to be highlights of making the piece for me.

Art + Text:

1. Freedom and Control, 2020 - TW: scars, but very difficult to see. This one was ambitious for me! It started originally just as Solas and my Tal-Vashoth OC, Saara, facing each other, because I love the dynamic I’ve built for them in my head, but then it turned into an attempt at a tarot-esque background, and just sorta grew from there... Overall, I’m happy with how it turned out, especially with how Solas and Saara themselves turned out. The version you can actually see a larger view is here.

2. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 1, 2020 - I love writing my own codex entries, first off, and I love combining art with text to create a (hopefully) seamless work. This work was an attempt to flesh out these OCs of mine with both art (because unique facial structures are hard for me to get down, but so important regardless) and text (because writing~). I think it turned out well overall, but there are elements of the portraits that I might at some point touch up a bit.

3. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 2, 2020 - Part 2, with what I refer to as a “DAI Outfit Change” because I have always loved seeing fans show their own OCs as they look in DAO, DA2, and then finally DAI. So I absolutely wanted to jump on that bandwagon myself. The skin tones are a little off (and I’m sorry about that!) because I was playing with the watercolor brush at that point, and it dilutes the colors I use. Still working to figure that out, but I was very happy with the overall lineart and structures of the faces.

4. Alistair/Aja Amell Picture with a Blurb, 2017 - Ooooold, old, old, old, OLD! I still love the art, and I’m soooo happy with how the interaction between Alistair and Aja turned out (drawing kisses is extremely difficult for me; I always end up creating a distorted weird lip-creature, instead of realistically puckered lips...). I’m not as happy with the blurb that went with it? At that point, I was still very much figuring out my own DAO worldstate, and the characterization for everyone, so, eh. Take it with a grain of salt!

Unfinished Costume Designs:

1. Ancient Elvhen Armor with Dwarven Influence, 2018 - People who do costume design work are amazing and mystical beings, and I wish I could do what they do. This was an attempt at merging the Keeper robes from DAI with a more dwarven armor aesthetic, solely because I created an ancient elvhen character, Ceda, who was taken in by the Cad’halash dwarves mentioned in the Witch Hunt dlc, and I wanted this character to have a mix of the elven style of armor and the dwarven style. I’m overall decently happy with it, but there’s still that persistent level of self-criticism present.

2. Herald of Andraste Outfit WIP, 2016 - This was a very old picture, not one I showed around a lot, but the idea for this was entirely born of my intense interest in how fashion and outfit designs could be used to create a symbolic image for the Herald of Andraste. In general, I love the combination of ceremonial armor with long and flowing cloth, so that was what I went for here. I’m still actually very proud of how this came out, and headcanon something similar for my Herald in my canon DAI worldstate.

Pencil Sketches:

1. Quick Saara Sketch, 2019 - TW: saarebas mouth scars. Exactly what it says; very quick sketch of Saara I did in a small notebook I carry around with me. This was basically a test for myself to see if I could manage to draw Saara with the features and facial structure I envisioned for her without needing to use a lot of references.

2. Mass Effect Character Sketch; Jesse, 2018 - Similar reason for drawing this one as the above Saara sketch! With these characters, I love sometimes the way they can turn out with the specific character creator used for them, and when I draw them, I enjoy trying to create a definitive look for them using what I get from the CC, and my own knowledge of Hooman Faces.

3. Saara Sketch, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars. A more detailed sketch of Saara than the one above, and one I definitely put more time into overall. It’s currently the profile picture I’m using for ao3, and is the definitive go-to reference picture I use whenever imagining Saara in a fic, or for other Saara pics I make. I am extremely proud of this picture, and feel like I should work in graphite more often. It’s such fun, and the texture is so nice to look at.

4. Sketch of Nameless Alamarri Woman, 2017 - This was a sketch I did of what I envisioned some Alamarri tribes to look like; I used artistic depictions of Gaul tribes and hairstyles for inspiration, and have used this as a go-to reference for my version of Alamarri tribes. Nothing super notable about this one, but I really liked the way the shape of her face turned out.

Events and Gifts:

1. Another Scar, 2020 - TW: blood, injuries, gore. The most recent piece of art on the list, and a gift for @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold; featuring sisterly love between Rica and fem!Brosca, which was her requested prompt. This was a tough piece for me because of the difficulty with the lighting I dealt with. For some reason, that one particular element of it gave me so much trouble. Overall, I’m very happy with how it turned out, though, especially the skin tones of the sisters; Brosca I always sort of like as having this greyish, more gaunt look to her, while Rica I like seeing with a darker, richer, and warmer tone to her.

2. A Very Cousland Christmas!, 2019 - This was for a holiday exchange for a server, and I drew a friend’s Cousland (Elissa, the girl on the left) with my Cousland (Gazza, the girl on the right). I love kid-fic, and I love kid-art, and so I decided... baby Cousland art! Drawing kid proportions was the toughest part, I recall, and I thiiiink it turned out well, and I’m still quite proud of it overall. Elissa’s design came entirely from my friend, but I added the holly~

3. Exchange Gift with Dis Brosca and Mabari, 2018 - This was an exchange gift for @fanfoolishness, using her lovely Dis Brosca, and was my first real attempt at backgrounds... I struggled with the coherence of the foreground and background a bit, but I’m still very proud of how it turned out, especially with the colors I had to work with. What I also really enjoyed working with was the lighting and the expression on Dis’s face. Backlit subjects are always fun to play around with!

4. Inktober Picture, “Deep”, 2017 - TW: scars, injury, mentions of abuse in the author’s note/attached dialogue snippets. This was for an Inktober prompt (the only one I’ve ever done, sadly... because I am bad with deadlines...), and again features Trilyn. Trilyn’s backstory has him a former slave in Tevinter, and a lot of the early works I do for him are sort of deep-dives into his life there. It’s all meant to be an exploration of the things he endures, and then those moments when he overcomes it all and takes back his own autonomy and self. This art is definitely provocative, and I can understand if not everyone likes it, but to me, I just wanted to show just what he faces (without glorifying it) before showing the moment of his own triumph.

5. Christmas Holiday Picture with my Brosca and a Friend’s Amell, 2017 - This was a piece of art drawn first by a friend of mine, @nanahuatli~ She drew the Amell, the background, the mistletoe, etc. All I did was add my Brosca to the mix to finish the image. It was a lot of fun to do, 1) because it was fun trying to match her style so that the picture looked cohesive, 2) because I love doing collabs with friends, and 3) because it was just such a fun thing to imagine my surly short Brosca, looking at this weird plant/fungus/thing dangling over some puckering human! It was an absolute joy to do this collab with her!

6. OC Kiss Week Pic of Jem and Saara, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars. A spur-of-the-moment thing meant to demonstrate just what kind of dynamic my OC, Jem, has with my other OC, Saara (both of whom are members of Leliana’s network in DAI). This was a very quick picture (deadlines...) and was mostly just to have fun drawing these two characters interacting, and to see if I could make them look like themselves. I think I did a decent job with it overall, especially with Jem’s kissy-face! (Again... drawing kisses are the bane of my existence, although hands and feet take a close second.)

#lavalampelfchild's art #masterpost #dragon age #some not DA stuff

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kunderdogs · 4 years

Text

Making Out With VAV

Let me start off by saying I've been into VAV since June 2018 and they're coming to my city in a few months. I will fucking die when I see them okay. On an unrelated note the photos with them are like $40 each and if you want one with each member its $250 (which is more expensive than the vvip tickets!) Ugh should I get them all or do 1? I'd feel terrible if one member's line for pics was shorter than another ya know UGH I'M GOING THRU IT PLS HELP ME

I got carried away with some of the members but tried to keep it short so I'm sorry others are longer than some. ^^' I’m not even Baron biased but why does he hurt me so...I’m so sorry Lou.

Thank you to the anon who requested this. As you all can tell, I have a weakness for VAV so I love writing them. - Cookie

St. Van:

I've deadass dreamed about making out with St. Van (who hasn't? you're lying if you said you didn't). He's such a fucking tease LIKE WHY SIR?

Anyway, I can imagine making out with him is ALWAYS hot and heavy, no matter where you are.

He'd much rather make out in his room or your place, where no one can interrupt because 11/10 times it's going to escalate to new heights.

Honestly, he has no preference when it comes to a "make out style". If you want it short and sweet, he's down. Rough with lots of tongue? Sign him up!

Doesn't like much dialog when he's in the mood, he'll catch your face in his hands and open mouth kiss you so you didn't get any mixed signals.

Likes to be dominate no matter what but he likes when you're sitting on his lap.

His hands, without fail, will always be in your hair - stroking, pulling, pushing it from your face.

If it's up, NOT FOR LONG 'cause he'll take it out the ponytail

That's on hair pulling kinks

Be prepared for lots of noise.

He's a moaner and WILL moan in your mouth if you nibble his lip or try to take over the dominate role.

He'll find it so so so hot when you're rough with him - his unoccupied hand will grip your thigh and force you to connect your bodies fully and he'll definitely grind up into you, pushing your hips down into him.

There's absolutely nothing gentle about making out with St. Van.

He won't bruise you but ALMOST.

He'll give you bedroom eyes when you pull away and smirk when he notice how turned on you are.

Leaning back into the couch with his head tilted to the side and breathing just a bit hard, he'll lick his lips disrespectfully. "I like when you're on top, baby girl, but I think we should take this to the bed, hm?"

(FUCK I GTG HOW AM I GONNA LOOK THIS MAN IN THE EYES WHEN I MEET HIM? IDK LORD HELP ME)

Baron:

Ok my sweet baby Baron.

I feel like he's a low key freak.

BUT A GENTLEMAN.

The first couple of make outs are sweet and precious.

He's very loving and kind so he won't be rough with you, like never.

Is so shy the first time, but will initiate it about maybe 3 weeks in the relationship - sooner if you're flirty.

Doesn't know what the hell you're comfortable with in this new step of your relationship. Picture this:

It's been a few weeks since you two made it official, even though you went through a month of the talking phase. You were flirty, but Chungheop was still shy with you on certain things. Today, the two of you had a fun-filled day at the amusement park. He had been eyeing you with heart eyes all day and you to him as well. It was hard not to, especially when you have a boyfriend as cute as him! As you were driving back to Seoul, the rain came down in buckets but Baron didn't want to go back to the dorms just yet. With cute puppy-eyes he asked you if he could come over to hang out for a few hours. There was absolutely no way for you to resist that.

So here you were, walking back into the living room after changing out of those ridiculously tight skinny jeans and into your pajama shorts. You traded your cute blouse for one of Baron's large shirts. He was lounging on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something to kill the time with. Nothing was particularly catching his eye though. He didn't have to wait long until you flopped directly next to him and snuggled into his side.

As he took in your attire, his heart was pounding a thousand times a minute. You were too cute! When you two mutually decided on a Rom-Com, he got bored pretty quickly and shyly kissed your cheek.

With a smile, you turned to see him gazing at you. He leaned closer to your lips and hesitated only for a second before closing the distance. Softly, slowly would mold his lips to yours. Chungheop tilted his head to the side, softly exhaling while the arm on the back of the couch comes to the back of your neck.

Won't introduce tongue but will groan when you do it first.

Heavy breathing and a whole lot of gentle caressing.

His fingers slide down your cheek to cup your jaw before trailing to your cleavage only to settle on your hip.

He won't have a tight grip, it's always light but never in the same place for very long - boy has wondering hands.

Typically they're gripping and stroking.

Will quietly groan if you deepen the kiss or start touching his skin (neck, stomach).

His lips aren't ever rough with you

He'll like to take his time tasting you.

He's a nibbler/biter so expect him to bite gently on your lips a few times.

Also he'll pull some freaky moves out of nowhere like sucking on your tongue and smile cheekily when you moan into him.

Likes to keep you on your toes so some times, just to hear you gasp in surprise, he'll throw you on the bed/couch with a playful smirk.

Overall, he’s very sweet to you. “You look so cute like that, baby.”

Ace:

A whole tease. That's it. That's the post.

Jk. But Wooyoung is a big fan of a foreplay, like this is where he thrives!

He knows how to fuck with you too, so he'll initiate the kisses and will make them so fluttering and lingering that you'll be on the verge of trying to smash his lips to yours.

He'll pull away and be like "Uh-uh don't be so impatient, baby. We got all night~"

Might even laugh a little bit if you were getting frustrated with all his teasing.

He's the type to dominate everything about making out but it's in a sensual way (?)

like not rough or aggressive at all.

Will sneak his tongue in to spice it up after a few minutes just to catch you off guard.

Tongue

LOTS AND LOTS OF IT

French kissing

With a lot of moans from him - he’s pretty vocal but he’s not nearly as loud as you

Likes to suck - on any part of skin on your body. He’s not picky

Sloppy kisses since he has less self control than you think he does

He'll pick up the pace only to slow it down again and smile when you make noises into his mouth.

Lives for the moment that you finally break under all the teasing and yank his hair.

Ace likes to catch you off guard a lot so he'll sneak up on you when you're distracted and spin you around just to give you kisses.

He's a romantic at heart so back hugs that turn into making out on the kitchen counter are very common for you two.

Wooyoung wouldn't want to make-out in public spaces but a hello and goodbye peck when he's in disguise is alright.

He'll be mortified if you were in the middle of a heated make out session, his hands slowly creeping up your shirt only for the members to burst in.

He would be soooooo red in the face lol so yeah y'all would have to be ALONE ALONE to have any real freaky time.

Ayno:

(first off, how dare I use this gif)

Has zero self control when it comes to his s/o

As mentioned previously, Ayno is an ass man

So if you want him to jump your bones, just wear a flattering pair of skinny jeans or a tight skirt

He’ll literally follow you around like a puppy

Lots of gulping, narrowed eyes stuck to your hips and ass as you walked in front of him

When it comes to making out, he’s the same way

A kiss is never just one and done

NO MA’AM, he wants all the smoke

He knows you like how his lips are so he goes in for the kill immediately

No build up

He’ll catch your wrist and spin you to face him

As soon as you notice his body pressed into you, his lips are pushing and pulling you to fold into him

Who are you to deny him that?

Doesn’t waste any time with teasing - his tongue is already putting in work

Likes to cradle your head and tilt it up to him

Wants to hear you whimper and moan breathlessly into him

Always likes to break the kiss to stare at you with an intensity that has your blood boiling

But is soooo playful

Might smirk and leave you hanging

Some times he’ll purposefully attack your mouth when you two really shouldn’t be kissing like when you went to his parent’s house

Enjoys the thrill of getting touchy when you guys could be caught any moment

A little bit of an exhibitionist

He’ll tickle you or nuzzle you to cut some of the sexual tension or say something to make you giggle as he’s pressing kisses on your cheeks

Looooves to handle you if you’d let him

REALLY loves when you handle him too!!!

That one time when you pushed him on the couch, straddled him and yanked his hair, he swore that he was in heaven.

He’ll easily submit to you if you want him too

But he’ll make you work for it

Licking your lips, neck

Yoonho will beg you to let him put hickeys on you and when you agree, he’ll jump on you that second

Jacob:

HOt, heavy, messy, passionate all the time with no build up or warning for you at all.

Jacob likes to keep you guessing so he'll initiate a make-out just about damn near everywhere and at any given time.

He honestly doesn't care whose in the room, unless it was like yours or his family.

The members and other staff?

Yeah, doesn't matter - if he wants to kiss you then he will.

If they don't wanna see it, they better leave because he won't stop unless you want him to ;)

Making out isn’t just kissing for him - it’s a prelude to the nasty-ness that’s about to come

So if you try to break the kiss to go answer your phone, he’s thoroughly offended and will drag you back to his lips

The type to walk in, no words, and catch the back of your neck with his large hand

Likes to make out with you against surfaces with him standing up

He’ll tell you he thinks it’s really hot when you wrap your legs around his waist

A bit of a size kink because he loves to corner you and pin you to the wall/bed and hover over you

You...have absolutely no complaints so...

He’s the dominate role even in making out

But just so gentle and loving that it makes you swoon

Rarely makes a sound other than breathing heavily, humming or growling

Face grabbing!!!!!

100% of the time will grind into you

Since his body is always smashed against yours, he doesn’t need to move much for you two to feel the friction

Has a habit of biting his lip and looking to the sky to grab his composure

Likes your attention on him so he’ll grab your jaw

Playful but not as Ayno

Chuckles when he accidentally tickles you but easily refocuses your attention to the matter at hand:

His tongue in your mouth

Lou:

Shy baby won’t initiate any make-outs until later in the relationship

Probably like 3-4 months into it

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like making out

Exactly the opposite actually

Hosung loves the intimacy of making out with his partner and finds it really romantic

Is very soft about the entire thing

Nearly melts into a puddle when you kiss him out of nowhere, literal hearts in his eyes

Light pecks - just lips pressed against each other the first few seconds then he’ll slowly move and close his eyes

Hardly any freaky shit until he’s more comfortable with you

When he is comfortable, he’s still very sweet and loving but will be a bit of a tease

Likes to pull away from you and watch you chase his lips

Will play innocent when you get upset that he won’t move against you

Makes you work for it ‘cause he’s a bit of a brat

His hand kink will show during make outs

As soon as your hands touch him under his shirt, he’s a mess

Loud, deep groans and sucking his breath

Wants to watch you so he’ll love it when you’re in his lap

Lots of slow, teasing kisses until he can feel you grind into him

“Do that again.”

Knows how deep his voice can get so when he figures out it’s a turn on for you, he won’t shut up

“If you keep kissing me like that, I’ll have to take you in the room.”

“Unless you want me to strip you right here on the couch?”

“Princess, you’re eager hm? Mhm, I like that~”

You try your best to shut him up but the more you do, the more he’ll do also

He doesn’t prefer boobs over ass or vice versa but he tends to find his hands are constantly caressing your ass and waist a lot

Is hardly ever rough with you but will appreciate a few bites and sharp grips from your hands

Ziu:

Playful then turns hot and heavy.

Heejun likes to goof off so making out will start off very innocent.

You two could be just talking and laughing and he'll strike- tickling you and tackling you onto the couch.

Eventually, it'll die down and as you were giggling and telling him he was crushing you under his weight, he'd be too busy staring at you to hear you.

In a split second, he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss - something to convey what he was thinking at the moment.

He had no intentions of going past that but when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, thin fingers stroking the back of his neck and down his back, it sends shivers down his spine.

Ziu knows how big he is, and he is very cautious of you as well so he won't be rough with you unless there's a special reason.

Usually, his hands stay on your body, running patterns down your sides but they'll always settle on the swell of your hips or your ass.

He'll definitely man-handle you a bit - pulling you on to him, pushing you into the couch/bed.

Some times he forgets how strong he is so his kisses suddenly turn very passionate, and in turn kind of sloppy.

Open mouth kisses with lots of tongue clashing.

Likes a little bit of pain

Your nails scratching his back, yanking on his hair - as long as there’s no blood

He's pretty vocal, groaning and whispering sweet words in your ear.

Dirty talk is only for rough sex so most times he'll be just a big ball of love and sensual, lingering kisses.

Then, when you want to deepen the kiss, he'll leave you hanging out of literally nowhere and look at you like you're crazy for trying to get freaky in the dorm living room when any of his members could walk in.

"We're not doing any of what you're thinking on this couch, little lady."

Finds it hilarious how sexually frustrated he can get you though, so he'll leave you hanging a lot more than you want lol.

Will probably laugh in your face when you pout and curse him for turning you on with no intention to finish

#vav #vav reaction #vav scenario #st. van #lee geumhyuk #baron #choi chunghyeop #ace #jang wooyoung #ayno #noh yoonho #jacob #jang peng #lou #kim hosung #ziu #park heejun #didn't spell check

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sweeethinny · 4 years

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You’re The Right One - Chapter 1

There are people we would walk through the fire for, people we never imagined we could meet, and for James S. Potter, that person is Mira Hazel. The temperamental madwoman who was in the compartment next to him in Hogwarts' first year, and who has been by his side ever since. In the fifth year, however, Mira begins to gain another angle through James' eyes, however much he doesn't want it. You shouldn't look at your best friend that way, let alone want to kiss her every time they're close. He definitely shouldn't be jealous of her. She is just your friend, best friend, and James should put his head in place and forget about all this crazy stuff to avoid problems ... But he never went after problems, anyway, they always find a way to find him.

AO3

first of all, I would like to thank @theroomofreq who is beta of this fic, thank you very much for helping me to put this story in the world <3 this is a story that is almost finished in the original version, so my days of creative block will not hinder her progress

that’s it, thank u if you’re read till here, i hope you like my characters and my vision of the next gen <3

Walking excitedly among all the people, carrying his owl and bags in the cart, and rushing his parents every moment they were less than two steps behind him. James grinned from ear to ear on a lively September morning, the one where he would mark his first school year at Hogwarts.

''Let's go!’’ He pulled his father by the hand, who had stopped to show Lily, the youngest of the family, the huge dog that was walking illustriously beside the owner.

Both Harry and Ginny walked slowly to enjoy what would be the last time they would see their eldest son until Christmas, when they would force him to return to spend the festivities at home. For the father, it was a joy to see that little kid who barely reached his chest, saying what a great Quidditch player he would be and that Gryffindor would be, certainly, his house.

'' What if it happens to be Hufflepuff? Albus asked, a little frightened by his brother's enthusiasm that morning

'' It won't happen '' He rolled his eyes when none of the parents looked at him '' I'm too brave '' And the two laughed among themselves, thinking that the son was a copy, much more genius should be said, of the mother and the uncles Fred and George. And Harry was not ashamed to admit, that he saw himself much more in Albus, frightened by that determination, than by the flames of excitement that prowled James eyes. At least not at that age.

'' Come on, you and me first '' James barely waited for his father to hold the stroller bar, safely crossed the 9 3/4 barrier, reaching the spot where his eyes twinkled, and his whole body shook from nervousness and anxiety. Soon the mother with Albus and Teddy appeared, as always, the calm face of the woman making the boy brake and answer the silent request of '' wait! ''

'' How do you feel? '' Wizards were everywhere now, there were owls hooting, cats purring on their owners' legs, and frogs in the clothes of some, showing only their big eyes.

'' Anxious '' He spoke the truth for the first time, still smiling, but now a little more slowly. '' Do you think I'll be able to fly? '' This time he addressed his mother, speaking quietly so that only she could hear, watching Albus and Lily listening to his father's story about his first day there, while Teddy made some joke about how old he was. Ginny smiled kindly, warming the boy's heart, arranged the hair that fell in his eyes and rubbed his young face

'' Of course James, but if you have difficulties, which I doubt, we can train at Christmas '' He nodded, more hopeful this time. If her mother, a famous Quidditch player, had told him he could do it, then it would become true. Right?

'' Let's go just before the train leaves '' This time it was Harry who stirred, pushing the way while James saw the faces that would soon become known to him. Whether they are friends, colleagues, or enemies. (Even though his father made him swear that he would not start unnecessary fights)

Smoke spread in the air, a lot of students - young and old - boarded the train and packed their bags in the cabins, then returned to hug their parents, be scolded, or just talk. Heads floated in the window, students laughing excitedly with the anxiety of finally leaving, and James couldn't help feeling different.

'' I'm going to miss you, brat '' Teddy ruffled his brother's at heart hair '' First year is an important year .. write me if you need anything '' James nodded, slightly nervous as he watched the man change his hair for go dark like his, smiling a little too watery for his opinion

'' Me too. And ok, I will '' James hugged him, and then turned to his parents, almost feeling like he was about to scream in excitement and fear.

'' Be careful '' The father looked at his son, a little laughing and a little serious, raising his eyebrows '' I'm watching you ''

'' Ok '' He nodded excitedly '' And I know you will ''

"Take care, okay?" It was Albus' embrace, two years younger, tight and full of anticipation that made James smile without grace, his cheeks warm with that affection. As annoying as he could be, he would miss having someone smaller than himself to win the blame.

'' Yes, I’ll miss you too '' And then everyone got together for the squeeze, almost breaking his ribs, and making him blush with embarrassment '' No ... I can’t ... breathe ''

The little sister gave his cheek a wet kiss - which James automatically wanted to wipe but did not do when he saw his father's gaze - his mother had passed on some instructions about the houses and how he should be calm regardless of the choice.

'' The house that Hat draws will be the right one for you, and we will be happy regardless of the result. Write to us as soon as you can, preferably today '' He nodded laughing, thinking of the red and gold lion.

'' Now, listen '' The father had crouched down, keeping close eye contact, his green eyes almost bursting into orbit '' I don't want you to be around getting in trouble, understood? '' For the fiftieth time he nodded '' Don't worry if you are alone, people always arrive in the compartment , you can meet great friends inside '' Once again he moved his head

'' Stop being so melodramatic, man. '' Teddy laughed, winking at James, who seemed to have read the mind of the boy who was thinking about the whole castle to explore.

'' I'm going to send you news '' he assured, entering in the train

'' Every day. '' James frowned, eliciting laughter from his parents '' Answer us always, and if you need to ... ''

'' I know, Dad, I know ... Professor Longbottom can help me. '' The train started to leave, they exchanged a few more words, he waved at them as they got smaller, and then that was it.

James was finally on his way to the Witch School.

Anxious, he ran to the single empty compartment he found and began to contemplate the path they were taking. It seemed that magic was already taking place there, it was like the sensation of climbing up a gigantic peak, analyzing the view from the top , the fall that he would soon make. It was scary, but impressively, it also seemed to cause a huge euphoria that would make him jump.

"Can I come in or is it full already?" The female voice woke him from his daydream. He had heard many love stories that began in train compartments , his godfather for example, swore he was one of those who unknowingly knew the love of his life. Grandpa, whose name he honored, met Grandma in one of those too. But if James knew anything, it was the girl, a few inches shorter than him, with long blond hair braided, wearing a funny black cap and school robes, would not be his love.

She wasn't ugly, but she looked ... clumsy. Her eyes were large pits of the darkest pitch, the pupil barely visible, her cheeks pink and large, eyebrows as clear as lashes (little more colored than the fair skin), and her teeth a little apart, in addition to a pink lip fatty. Her legs looked long compared to her body, even under her robes, and her arms were thin, as if she had started to stretch-but only on some limbs.

'' Uh ... no. '' But you couldn't deny friends, of course. "You can sit down."

'' So ... '' She packed her bags '' It was full up front '' Justified herself by picking up a 'Quidditch History' book and sitting in front of him '' And I thought .... Hey, I think I know you from somewhere '' James blushed, even though he straightened up and tried to look more secure than he really was. Being recognized was never fun. '' You are Ginny Potter's son, I saw you on the Prophet's cover! My God, your mother is awesome '' She spoke in a way that her eyes almost popped, such excitement, gesturing and bulging her eyes.

'' I know '' James bragged, even if uncomfortable '' She's the best '' He spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world. His mother had retired as a chaser after Lily was born, however, he had gone to a few games and could remember it being amazing. In addition, every time they played in the vegetable garden, the father had to sweat so that they would not lose by more than 100 points - even if someone on his team caught the snitch.

'' I want to be like her , you know .. '' The girl straightened up on the bench, pulling her legs up, leaning her back against the cold window, the book resting on her knees '' I want to play like that. '' James thought she was funny, but he didn't comment, a little scared by how intimidating she looked. '' My parents hate flying, but I like it. I mean, I’ve only flown a few times, but it's soooo fun. '' He wanted to laugh, staring at her curiously. Her hair resembled Aunt Fleur's hair, long and light, but it was much less styled than the hair of the older woman '' I really like to imagine myself playing. ''

''To imagine? Have you never played? '' The nameless girl denied, making a face

'' My parents are not the biggest Quidditch fans, so to go to a game, it was like Mass '' "Mass?" He frowned.

The blonde looked at him, this time curious, '' Yes, it's a muggle thing, you know, about religion, some are too long ... so the saying... '' James nodded

"Are you Muggle-born?" She shook her head, fiddling with the worn book unpretentiously, and then shrugged.

'' My parents are wizards, but my grandparents are muggles and I spent a lot of time with my maternal grandmother, so '' she shrugged '' That's why I never played, I had no one, but I know how to play volleyball and maybe it will help me. And Tennis '' the girl shrugged again '' Anyway, your mom is a big inspiration to me, I wish I could have seen her play. ''

'' So ... you didn't say your name '' And again she moved, sitting forward and holding out her hand to him, which was full of different rings. James wondered if that girl could be weirder than Dominique. Or Aunt Luna.

'' Sorry, I was so excited ... I'm Mira Hazel. '' He smiled kindly

'' James '' Even though he didn't need to, he was happy to say '' What house do you think will be in? '' She straightened up again on the bench, without opening the book this time, looking at him with full attention.

'' I hope Ravenclaw. What about you? '' Mira Hazel said, as James grimaced.

'' Gryffindor, obviously. Why do you want that one? It's so full of ... idiots '' The girl raised her clear eyebrows, her body moving into an attack position as if she might pounce on him, much like a cat. James was concerned that she was carrying a cat beside her, but there was no sign.

'' My parents are from there .. You know. Gryffindor is not the only good house at school, if it were, it wouldn't make sense to have others, would it? '' James swallowed the words, arranging his back on the bench and thinking what he would say Next. Of course, his father had warned about this, but how could he not want to go to the house that housed his whole family?

Before he could give a bullshit answer that would make coal eyes explode, the cabin door was opened again, this time a boy with black hair and frightened eyes appeared, his cheeks flushed and what appeared to be a frog in his front pocket. "Sorry, wrong cabin."

When the door closed again, silence radiated over them, James too affected to admit that maybe, for a few seconds, she was right. Only the pages broke the silence,, as she leafed through the book almost aggressively,.Mira seemed to have read it many times judging by the yellowish color that marked the edges, in addition to the lower spine looking punished with use. He thought of asking what Quidditch position she wanted - for he had imagined that if they both wanted to be keppers, they would fall off their brooms before the snitch was even released - but he kept the words to himself.

The food cart was not long in arriving, much to his delight, and the two bought what looked like food for five more, still without speaking a word, which was driving him crazy.

"Aha! I finally found you. '' The female voice broke through the air. Mira smiled at the chocolate frog, taking the card in her hands

'' Who did you find? '' James smiled when he saw Merlin smiling on his own card.

'' Hermione Weasley '' And as if it were pure gold, she carefully tucked it inside the Quidditch book. '' My mother met her ... they made Runes together '' Mira nodded, seeming to talk to herself more than to him '' A very smart witch ... I should want to be like her too, don't you think? ''

'' Are you always this weird? '' He joked, happy that she had talked to him again. Her silence was claustrophobic, which was very strange, since Albus used to give him a cold shoulder whenever they fought, and it was never this bad.

'' Ah ... no, I’m just nervous. '' It seemed like a lie, but he didn't say anything

'' But tell me, what is it like? Having these people in your family '' Mira asked.

James grimaced when he swallowed a Bertie Botts every flavor bean, '' Ear wax, ew, I don't know how I was wrong. I thought it might be popcorn ''

''Normal '' He moved his shoulders, precisely choosing a bean, loving the taste of strawberry when he threw one in his mouth '' They are normal people most of the time ''

'' It can't be normal '' She rolled her eyes '' There must be something extraordinary about being the son of Harry and Ginny Potter ''

James tried to shake the thought from his mind, remembering all the years living in his family and all the stories that he had heard (even if in half).

Sometimes it was quite difficult, people used to be so intrusive at partie, s it was almost impossible for them not to be stopped by some journalist wanting to know the latest gossip that involved their name.

James thought it all sucked. It was very tiring.

He had thought that now as he was going to Hogwarts he could finally be James. Simply, James, and no longer,live in the shadow of his parents great deeds. Even if no one asked him to follow in their footsteps, stressing the irrecoverable losses they had made along the arduous path, he felt as if nothing he did was really interesting.

Going to Gryffindor, being a good keeper and a good student, was not just to ensure that his track record was brilliant, but to guarantee a place in the genius tree. He hadn't fought like his mother and father, but he had done something good while he was at school, proving his worth. Proving to be brave and fearless.

'' Except I can get a lot of cards from chocolate frogs more easily '' He smiled at the girl who laughed in denial, her cheeks turning pink again, and her eyes no longer seemed to carry the fury she had earlier presented.

She wasn't all bad, after all.

[...]

‘’James Potter .. what an honor!’’ Hagrid, a half-giant who always showed up at his house telling stories about strange and dangerous animals, smiled at him, hitting him on the back with a force that made him walk two steps forward.

‘’Hi Hagrid.’’ He returned the smile, looking excitedly behind him and seeing the boats positioned.

After the rookies were summoned and put on boats, crossed the river below the night sky with few stars, Mira was beside him, her eyes looking like a part of the sky, shining with the magnificent view of Hogwarts. The castle looked bigger and more splendid than any photograph, description, or drawing he had ever seen and heard. It was real, grand, and now it was his new home.

As they left the boats and were led into the castle, the children's voices seemed to triple- the excitement of standing in that hall, waiting to be called up for the sorting. A tall, strong, well-groomed professor, showing a scar that cut his eyebrow and a little bit of his left eyelid, appeared. ,He explained the houses, the hat and introduced himself, Frank Johaan, Defense Against the Dark Art teacher . When they entered the Great Hall, which his father had spoken so much of, James thought he might fall over right there, looking at the tables, the teachers, the decoration above him, the walls laden with flags of the houses, the ghosts walking around. .. It was almost like daydreaming. No photograph lived up to what James was seeing

And just as his father had informed him, when the time came, the Sorting Hat on a stool, looking old and worn, began to sing.

When Headmaster McGonagall gave a slight smile after welcoming the students - and James thought he saw her smile bigger when she saw him - Professor Johaan stood erect beside the stool, a scroll in his left hand and the right on top of the hat

‘’When I call your name, come here and sit down.’’

The names began, applause whenever the house was shouted at by the patched hat.With each person, the boy felt more apprehensive, looking around anxiously and seeing Mira from a short distance, looking confident, hardly even blinking during the wait.

‘’Potter, James Sirius’’ He could have sworn he saw the Headmistress getting ready in the chair to watch, making him feel even more nervous; And with weak legs, but without showing it, he started the long walk to the stool, everyone's eyes following him, and the teachers looking at him with curiosity. He took a deep breath before sitting on the stool and left his mind free, listening even to his heartbeat.

‘’Ah a Potter ... I know them so well. A brave heart ... ‘’ Said the hat, and he thought it was magnificent ‘’I can't help but notice, too big even for a giant's body’’. Without thinking, he looked sideways at Hagrid, who was smiling anxiously while sitting in one of the chairs set for the teachers. ‘’But would that only help you? .. A vast intelligence, certainly, but I cannot deny the truth ... Gryffindor!’’

The Gryffindor table rose to a fuss, eagerly applauding and welcoming him, with huge smiles and nods when he sat down, everyone congratulating him and talking about how amazing it was that they had a Potter there.

‘’Hazel, Mira’’ She walked confidently, not even blushing. Her braided hair trailing behind her and her black eyes looking like two black holes in her pale face. She sat on the stool, waiting for the call, the sorting hat was put on, and stayed there for some time.

James’ godmother had told him about this, about students sometimes sitting up to five minutes waiting, they were students who confused the hat, they had many attributes that stood out and could easily fit in more than one house, as had happened with her.

The blonde was waiting in the same way as when she sat down, calm and seeming to assess with the hat, after what seemed like three or more minutes - he hadn't been there so long, and if he had, he would have died of anxiety - the hat screamed;

-Gryffindor!

His house table began to clap again, the blonde descending cheerfully and full of smiles, greeting those at the end and sitting next to James, her eyebrows half-arched and in an almost balmy way, showing in her eyes

‘’It looks like we'll be colleagues, Potter.’’ Mira said as she raised her chin and exuding confidence , drawing a laugh from James.

‘’So it seems.’’ And for some reason, he was happy with that.

#hp next gen #hp fanfic #next gen harry potter #James Sirius Potter #Harry Potter #ginnyPOTTER #Albus Severus Potter #harry potter next generation #my fic

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melyaliz · 4 years

Text

Remember me pt. 3

Master List

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x OC

Notes: Olive's crying a lot and Bakugou can’t deal with emotions. I also don’t love it but I promise it slowly stops.

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-0-0-0-- Olive --0-0-0-

“Hold this for me?” Olive looked up confused at the bright blue eyes of her husband Eliott. He was holding out his fist about waist high. Holding out her hand palm up she waited for him to give her something. Reaching out Eliott took her hand in his giving her a little squeeze.

Olive felt herself flush slightly as she giggled, pulling his arm to her so she could kiss his shoulder affectionately. “Look at you so cute,” she said. Her husband just grinned down at her so proud of himself.

“Still got it,” he said, taking her hand kissing her knuckles. A comfortable silence enveloped them both as they walked. Both lost in their own thoughts. “Man,” Eliott finally said, “I love you SOOOO much.”

Olive giggled, swinging his hand back and forth as they walked, skipping a bit, “Oh hey me too.”

“WHAT!?! Who would have thought.” absentmindedly Eliott’s fingers brushed over the small ring on his wife’s hand. The slim platinum ring held small diamonds that ran around the entire band set in a vintage flower setting. It was modest but it was perfect. Eliott was perfect.

“Oh hey, I talked to Tommy today.”

Olive perked up at the name of Eliott’s old coworker who had moved from filming sports to doing promotional work for a local hero agency. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, he said he needs back up on some hero shoots. It’s a little dangerous but the money is good.”

“That’s amazing!” Olive said, “you would be amazing at that.”

“Yeah, sports are fun but if I could work for an agency that would be amazing.”

“Yeah, and with me publishing my second book looks like we are moving up in the world.” Olive giggled

“Look at us,” Eliott said as they walked down the street away from the bars they had just been visiting toward their small apartment. “Following our dreams and shit.” The night was beautiful, warm with just a light breeze, a large moon shining from above making it the perfect night for a drunken stumble home

“Yeah, you getting pro-work and me not writing about 19 inch long dicks.”

Eliott burst out laughing, “I thought your story still had dicks.”

“More like five-dollar footlongs. There’s a difference.”

Eliott burst out laughing, “got to give the public the dick size they want.”

Olive chuckled, nodding as they got close to their apartment. Tonight had just been a normal Wednesday night. Both of them had decided to take a break from their constant working and just have a normal mid weeknight out. She knew she may be paying for it a bit tomorrow with the amount of alcohol they had drunk. But it was hard not to while singing off tune to some classic rock over a game of pool in their favorite dive bar. It was moments like these that Olive would remember forever.

The ones where they were just together having fun doing whatever.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

As Olive slowly woke up she found herself reaching out for Eliott and like the millionth time since he had died. The empty bed reminding her that once again he wasn’t there. However, her fingers brushed against something soft and fluffy.

What?

Slowly opening her eyes she realized she wasn’t in her bed. Her normal cotton white sheets were replaced with the softest black she had ever felt. A large fluffy gray and white cat was curled up next to her, blinking its large blue eyes at her.

Then it all came rushing back.

Eliott was dead and she was in Japan with a man who said he was her husband. They owned a cat and it had been over five years since Eliott had died.

Slowly pulling herself out of the bed she looked around the bedroom again.

It was beautiful, much nicer than anything she would have dreamed of having in the US. Large windows overlooking the city were covered in thick blackout curtains. Once she opened them it filled the room with so much natural light.

The room had a very clean modern feel to it. Decorated with lots of hardwood panels, with black, grays, and hints of red woven throughout the decorations. A few potted plants and lantern looking lights hung from the ceiling. Two bookshelves stood on either side of the TV that was hanging from the opposite wall from the bed.

She remembered that the large walk-in closet was behind the bed, separated by the large ashy wood wall. Walking around she entered the huge space. This closet was the size of her bedroom. Running her fingers over the hanging clothes she frowned. Which ones were hers?

Probably the side with the dresses.

The thought of the grumpy looking blonde who claimed to be her husband in a dress made her smile though.

He would probably look better in them too She thought as she pulled down a cute black dress with large yellow sunflowers. Just staring at it a feeling of being completely lost and unsure of what to wear. instead just standing there looking up at all the designer items dressed in her oversized tee.

Hanging the dress-up she noticed a black jacket had fallen. Picking it up she was taken over by the powerful sweet smell. Since last night when she had identified it as her new husband’s she had been unable to stop finding it everywhere. It made sense in theory because he also lived here but it smelled so foreign to her. Yet there was something comforting about it. As if in the very resessing of her mind something told her she was safe.

“Do you need help?”

Letting out a squeak she jumped clutching the jacket she had been currently burying her face in as if it could protect her. Turned to see-- What was his name again? Katsuki? Had been leaning against the wall watching her. At her shocked expression, his face melted into a soft frown. Moving forward he pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt thrusting them toward her. She looked up at him feeling very awkward with the fact that she was braless in nothing but a shirt in front of this stranger.

Although she wasn't a stranger to him.

The thought of them knowing each other intimately was so weird it made her flush slightly. For a moment a different expression crossed his face. Subtle and just as unreadable as any of the other ones he had.

“I made coffee,” he said, turning and leaving the closet, “When you're ready.”

Quickly hanging the jacket back up Olive dashed past Katsuki mumbling incoherent words of thanks as she dashed into the bathroom to change. After dressing she looked down at the sink, two toothbrushes looking back up at her as if laughing at her dilemma. Which one was hers? Grabbing the dry one -he must have snuck in here earlier to freshen up- she hedged her bets and quickly finished cleaning up with whatever she thought looked like something she might use.

Taking a look at herself in the mirror Olive sighed running her fingers through her hair. That was when she noticed the strands of bright pink throughout her dark locks. Frowning she turned, playing with her hair for a moment realizing she had a rainbow dyed into her bottom layer.

In theory, it made sense. She had always wanted to try that style with her hair. Olive had always liked to play with different shades and trends with everything from her hair to her makeup and even clothes. A drastic style change was not uncommon for her. But waking up with a completely different hairstyle felt so…

Overwhelming.

Tears sprung into her eyes before she realized they did.

“Jesus Olive!” she snapped at herself, the feeling of being overwhelmed disappearing as it was overtaken feelings of frustration. “Stop crying!” she said glaring at her reflection. The image of a red-faced glassie eyed Olive just made her cry harder. “Stop it.”

Bakugou hadn’t gone far. He knew he should have. Just leave her to gather herself but he was worried. She seemed so far away yesterday and this morning she looked so lost in their closet. Standing there sniffing his jacket like some deranged weirdo.

So despite his better judgment, he had stayed in the bedroom leaning against the wall between the closet waiting for her to come out. He could hear her shuffling about in the bathroom and then there was a long pause and suddenly her voice was as clear as if she was right next to him

“Jesus Olive, stop crying!”

The words cutting into him like a knife and twisting with each plea from the young woman to make herself stop. He could feel small sparks of anger flickering in his tight fists. That feeling of helplessness overcoming him again. Letting out a growl he stormed into the kitchen pulling out her favorite shitty sugar cereal and placing it on the counter.

Glaring intensely at the box he started questioning his choice. Maybe he should make her bacon? Or some cakes? He looked around frantically as if their whole marriage depended on what she found when she came out of the bathroom.

“Morning.”

He froze his shoulders hunching slightly at the soft sound of her voice. Part of him was scared to turn around and face her. He didn’t want to see her eyes all puffy and red, to see that lost sad look on her face.

He wanted his happy little bitch back.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, turning slowly to see her bright-eyed and with a large forced smile on her face.

And he realized there was something worse than seeing her sad. It was her faking happy.

Slamming a mug of coffee down in front of her he looked away trying to keep his temper in check. Her face pissed him off. Stop smiling like that. If you're sad just be sad. His brain screamed as if he could put his thoughts into her head.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip before her eyes widened, “Oh wow this is good.”

“Yeah I know,” he said simply taking a sip of his own.

“Do you uhhh, make this for me a lot.”

“Yes”

Every morning.

“What’s that?” she asked pointing toward the box of cereal.

“Cereal, here” he quickly made her a bowl before handing it to her. She took a bite smiling. A genuine smile as she glanced shyly up at him. “What?” he snapped, instantly regretting it as she looked down at her bowl again.

“I… are you going to have some too?”

“No, I don’t like sugar.”

Her eyes grew wide in shock, “Like at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you also not like happiness and joy?” she asked a real smile breaking across her face. It was as if the sun had just broken through the dark storm clouds that were swirling around the two of them. Shoulders relaxing Bakugou felt like he could breathe again.

“Apparently not, it is something you do remind me of frequently.”

“Sounds like something I would do” she chuckled. Another awkward stretch of silence spanned across them. Olive slowly pulled out her phone from her lap looking down at it then back up at him. The way she was fidgeting it was obvious she wanted to ask him something but felt bad about it.

“Just say it,” he said, “What do you want?”

“I…” she jumped slightly before opening her phone, “Could you maybe tell me who these people are in my photos?”

“Ok, but I have work in a bit.”

She blinked as if that had never accrued to her, “oh that’s right, your a… hero?” it was more of a question than a comment.

“Yes.”

“I bet you're really good.”

“Number one.” he paused, “That’s how we met. The agency sent us over to help with an earthquake issues and you were working with the insurance company that was covering damages.”

“Oh right,” she paused again mulling over this information. She had been working for that company -if it was the same one- for about three years when Eliott had passed.

“You presented, in English, and some pretty bad Japanese.”

“Wow rude.” her face scrunched in that expression he knew all too well. The one where she was trying not to laugh at his rudeness. Trying to look annoyed but she found his mean comments funny

“Yeah well, it’s true. It was cute.”

“So it was my shitty language skills that attracted you to me?” another small smile. Bakugou shouldn’t be getting this excited to see it.

“That and you bitching about some woman at Starbucks in that shitty language skill.” his words earning him a laugh, a small one but a laugh none the same.

“Sounds on brand.”

“Who did you want to know about?” he asked, coming around the island to where she was sitting so he could look over her shoulder. Enjoying the closeness of being by her. Taking in her warmth she was wearing that perfume he had gotten her for her birthday.

“The kids?”

“Lilly’s daughter Emma, and Clare’s two son’s.”

“No!” She gasped looking down at the image, “those are Cole and James!?! They are so big! And of course Lilly named her daughter Emma.” she cooed swiping through a few more images,, “She’s so beautiful” Bakugou shiffed noticing the soft tears coming to her eyes. Normally when she talked about her godchildren Olive would get emotional but something he would always tease about, but right now it seemed like she never stopped crying.

“That’s red,” she said pointing to Kirishima recognizing him from the mall. So he was also someone she actually knew pretty well. Or well enough to have pictures of them together in matching cowboy hats.

“Eijiro Kirishima” Baugou said, reaching over pointing to the three of them standing in an american themed bar.

The next one was of Bakugou and Olive with another couple at a local fair. “That’s Momo Yaoyorozu and her husband Shoto Todoroki.” Olive had met Momo during a highschool reunion and the two had become fast friends. Momo had even called Bakugou after the accident asking about Olive. After hearing about her memory loss Momo had decided she would wait to reach out as to not overwhelm the girl.

“Oh wow, she’s so pretty” Olive whispered. Bakugou tried not to laugh, guess some things never change. After the first time Olive had met Momo she had (drunkenly) demanded to know why her then boyfriend had never “gone for it?” and then that she was going to leave him for Momo because “she’s the whole package”.

“And a million of Dolemite” Olive giggled turning to show Bakugou who had seen all of these images a million times. To say his wife was obsessed with her cat would be an understatement.

As Olive turned her nose gently brushed against his cheek. Their eyes locking. She hadn’t realized how close they were until she had turned. His warm sweet scent was slightly overwhelming. Dark red eyes studying her, his body unmoving from their closeness. She could hear a bit of a hitch in his breath as his gaze moved down from her eyes to her lips.

For a moment Olive thought he might kiss her. Her heart pounding in her chest unsure what to do. Should she let him? Somehow she felt like she was cheating on her late husband. But Eliott had been dead, for years now. Still, guilt washed over as she pulled away. The look on his face sent a new wave of guilt wash over her. Hurt.

“I have to get to work” he mumbled backing up shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Ok” she responded, her hands clutching her phone so hard for a moment she thought it might crack, “I’ll clean up in here” she said motioning to the small collection of random boxes and cups on the counter. Nodding Bakugou grabbed his black duffle that was sitting by the door.

Glancing at her one last time he saw her watching him. She was biting her top lip, worry written all over her face. When their eyes met she flashed him another one of those fake smiles that kind of just spread flat across her face and didn't really curve up to her eyes.

“See you later” she said waving

He nodded before leaving wanting to get out as quickly as possible. He needed to go pound someone, preferentially a bad guy.

Olive couldn’t help but jump a little at how loudly Katsuki slammed the door shut. She was slowly leaning, this man was pretty aggressive. A bit of a contract to Eliott who was always scaring her with how quietly he would walk around. At least she would know where this new man always was.

But there were a few things that reminded her of Eliott in her “new” husband. Like the sugar thing. Eliott always hated sunshine and things that were too sweet. He preferred cooler weather and spicy food. A joke Olive would always use on him.

“You just like bitter things, that’s why you married me.” she would say when he would make a face at her sweeter preferences in wines or coffee.

“I would say more salty but yeah, basically.”

As Olive slowly started to clean up the kitchen she wondered if Katsuki also loved watching videos of kids getting hurt. During their time together Olive had lost count of the instagram accounts and videos Eliott had sent her of people wiping out. It got to the point that Olive could tell when he was watching a video of someone getting hurt by his laugh.

Was it even fair to compare the two of them?

Trying to push away those thoughts, Olive decided to explore Katsuki’s cabinets. Trying to piece together what kind of man her husband was. As if some perfectly organized cups would give her the answers to her four year long relationship with that intense blonde. Everything was so much more, put together, than her old life.

Maybe that was because she worked from home? She had more time to keep things clean and organized. Did she even work from home? Katsuki had said she had an office. Did she still work insurance?

A soft meow broke through her thoughts. Closing the cabinet she bent down picking up the fluffy cat that was at her feet. Stroking his thick fur leaving the kitchen thoughts starting to spiral

Could she even work insurance in Japan? What about her books? What was her life like?

What was she even supposed to do right now?

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Bakugou and Kirishima had spent all morning talking to the robbers who had been at the mall. While they were more than happy to give up what they knew (especially after seeing Bakugou bursting in hands blazing just needing an excuse to set someone aflame.) There wasn’t a lot of information to go off of.

It had been a paid job Which made no sense to Bakugou. Why would anyone pay someone to break into a mall? What was the point? They weren’t even asked to steal anything in particular. It was more of a “here’s some money and a plan, go fuck shit up and take what you want.”

“Maybe they were a distraction and something we don’t know is missing?” Kirishima said as the two heroes walked down the street. The rest of the day had been just as tedious and frustrating. To the point, Kirishima had thought maybe it was best if they went out on patrol to try and help Bakugou calm down a little.

It hadn’t help.

Bakugou was in a foul mood and had a hard time focusing on anything. Normally he never had this problem. Once he got to work no matter what was going on outside of his job he could tune it out. But right now all he wanted to do was see how Olive was doing. The way he had left things that morning. Just storming out. The way she had looked so lost in their apartment.

It was just pissed him off and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Normally around this time of day Olive would have been texting him with random thoughts, weird memes she would find or endless images of that stupid cat. But the silence was more distracting than her constant texting had ever been.

Glancing over their text log for the hundredth time he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Right before this attack, she had been excited about their trip to Germany in a few months. It was going to be a celebration for her publishing her fifteenth book and for his second year of being the #1 hero. There were a few snarky comments about all the “losers who said my amazing husband was more of a villain”

That was Olive he knew. Quick to love and quick to snap back if someone so much as looked at those ones she loved wrong. Not this sobbing mess who flinched at his very presence.

“Bro, just go home.” Kirishima finally said after Bakugou snapped at yet another old lady who was in his way during patrol. “If anything crazy happens I’ll just call you in.”

“I’m FINE!” Bakugou snapped back. Besides, the old Olive would be mad at him for abandoning his work just for her.

“Yeah but if your ratings drop because you made some baby cry Olive will kill you.” Kirishima seemed to read his mind as Bakugou stomped past two giggling high school girls who were not so subtly snapping pictures of the two heroes.

Rubbing his forehead Bakugou sighed, his teammate and friend had a point. If he dropped back down to Number two because of this foul mood Olive would kill him. He could hear her now.

“I mean I don’t give a shit what number you are, but you honestly lost two years of kissing up to the press over me?”

She would have that look of both hurt and also an annoyance. Plus she would be right. Better take a day off and work out this shity problem than deal with long term consequences.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

After a few hours of just walking around in circles with no idea what to do Olive decided to call Lilly. She wanted to see her goddaughter and best friend. Hear a familiar voice. So scooping up Dolemite she curled up on the large king size bed to video chat and catch up with all the stuff she couldn’t remember.

Ten minutes in Clare - who had been filled in on the whole memory loss- had demanded to join in.

“Threesome!” Clare giggled, her thick curls pulled back into a messy bun, “How are you feeling Olly O? Lilly told me what was going on.”

“I’m ok,” Olive mumbled, playing with Dolemite’s ear as the cat leaned into her hand purring loudly “It’s all... very overwhelming.”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“No. It’s like I woke up and it’s five years later.” Olive said, “To me, the last time we hung out we took your three-year-old and one-year-old to the beach.”

Clare winched at the thought, “You know if you want to come back you can” she said, “Take a break and be with some people you actually remember. No one would blame you if you needed a break..”

Olive paused for a moment thinking back to that morning. Katsuki looked so concerned as he followed her around with that angry face. He kind of reminded her of grumpy cat, his blonde hair sticking up everywhere with that pout on his face. He was probably having as much trouble with this whole memory loss as she was.

“I, I’m not sure yet. I married him for a reason and even if I can’t remember why I want to find out.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Clare said, “But just so you know we have an extra room if you need to get away.”

“You’ll be fine” Lilly pipped up. “Katsuki’s nothing if not stubborn. I once saw that man climb up the side of a cliff over a river with just his quirk because you freaked yourself out and couldn’t get down.”

“Oh yeah, that man is intense.” Clare nodded, “I wasn’t sure about him at first but he loves you.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Walking into the apartment Bakugou was greeted by the sound of laughter filling the apartment. His heart leaped in his throat as he followed the sound. He saw Olive laying on the bed kicking her legs up and down as she talked on the phone. The sound of Lilly and Clare’s voices could be heard.

“Do you remember that time I ran into the wall?”

“You had to wear a boot for a month you dumb ass” Lilly laughed, Bakugou could almost hear her rolling her eyes. He had heard this story a million times. Olive’s friends were nothing if not the kind of people who never forgot the dumb things they all did.

“Eliott was so worried… poor guy,” Olive said, his name flowing from her mouth with so much fondness Bakugou wanted to punch a wall. Jealousy so strong he felt sick. They had good memories too. So many of them, but all she could remember was that other guy.

“Oh Olive” Clare’s voice was soft as Olive suddenly choked, “Where even is Christian Salter? Why isn’t he there?”

“Who?” Olive asked sitting up, Bakugou could only see her back but he could tell she was rubbing her eyes.

“Katsuki.” Lilly’s voice was soft.

“I… I’m sorry” Olive babbled, “I’m kind of overwhelmed.”

“It’s ok to miss him you know,” Lilly said as Clare’s voice made some sort of agreeing sound.

“I loved him so much.” Olive’s voice cracked and it took everything in Bakugou’s will power to stay where he was. Rested against the wall just outside the bedroom listening to her sob for another man. Missing another man. Saying she loved another man.

“Fuck” he mumbled quickly moving away while pulling out his phone. He didn’t even realize he was calling Kirishima until he heard his best friend’s voice on the other line.

“Hey bro.”

“She won’t stop crying,” Bakugou said desperately running his fingers through his messy blonde hair as he paced the kitchen. He was desperate. He just wanted her to stop crying. Wanted this to end. Wanted to go back to the teasing, the laughing, the ANYTHING but this.

“She just lost Eliott all over again.” Kirishima’s voice said on the other end, “Give her some time.”

“But she loved me just as much, more ” Bakugou’s voice broke slightly as he looked over at the hallway leading to the bedroom. As if the answer to everything would just come walking out. As if SHE would just come walking out and this whole thing would just be some cruel joke.

“Yeah, and she will love you again but she doesn’t remember you. She doesn't remember any of it.”

“I’m trying! I made her coffee, we looked at pictures on her phone.” he walked from the kitchen to the living room looking out the large window that overlooked the city bustling with business. “She was even more attached to Momo more than me”

“I don’t know bor, take her to that ramen place you guys always go to?” Kirishima scratched the back of his head. There had only been one time he had ever seen Olive upset and that was when Bakugou had gone missing fighting some big bad villain in the forests of Brazil. Even then Olive had kind of just hid her feelings only really breaking down when Bakugou got back safe and sound.

Bakugou paused looking back at the bedroom again “You think?”

“She liked it before,” Kirishima said, Bakugou could almost see him shrugging over the phone. “And it’ll be like her first time again.”

Her first time. Bakugou hadn’t thought about it like that. Everything was like her first time again.

“Ok,” was his simple resonance before hanging up. Walking toward the bedroom he softly knocked on the door. It sounded like she had already hung up with her friends and was now sitting on the bed wiping her eyes. When she saw him she looked away, face red.

“I’m sorry” she mumbled trying to hide herself. For some reason that pissed him off more. As if he wasn’t allowed to see her like this. As if she was ashamed or something. “You’re home early…?’ she paused unsure if this was early. Seemed early since it was only a little after twelve o’clock.

“Just get ready, we are going out to lunch.”

“I… where?” she asked jumping down from the bed, her hazel eyes wide. Dolemite, who had been curled up on her lap, looked very put out.

“It’s casual, do you want me to pick out an outfit for you?” it was more of a statement than a question. Although, he did honestly want to know, did she need help?

“No, I think I can navigate that huge closet,” she said, flashing him a soft smile. While it wasn’t her normal large one it was genuine. Small victories, Bakugou decided, he would take what he could get.

“What you are wearing is fine. Just bring a jacket because you always get cold and wear shoes you can walk in, the pink sneakers work.” Bakugou followed her into their closet and she paused watching him as he grabbed a clean shirt and pants. “I’m only saying that because I know you are going to stress about it for 20 mins.”

“How…” her question died at her lips as she watched him.

“We’re married idiot” he mumbled softly “I’ll shower in the other bathroom. When your ready meet me in the living room.”

“You have another bathroom?”

“ We have one at the end of the hallway.”

“Oh.”

Another pause and Olive looked like she wanted to say something. Bakugou sighed

“Spit it out”

“I uhhh,” she took a shaky breath and for a moment he was worried she was going to start crying again. “I’m sorry”

“Stop apologizing,” Bakugou said, tuning to go Before pausing in the doorway, “And you can cry as much as you want. So stop trying to hide it.”

- GET TAGGED -

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Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

#bakugou katsuki x oc #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x oc #bakugou katsuki long fic #my hero academy oc #My hero academia fanfic #my hero academia oc #my writing #my fic

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hlupdate · 4 years

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Here he comes, one of the planet’s most conspicuous young men, stepping out of the London drizzle and into a dusty suburban pub. If there was an old vinyl record player in the place it would scratch quiet. Instead, the two-dozen punters turn hushed and intent, as if a unicorn has just trotted in off the street, and nobody wants to scare it off. “That’s frickin’ Harry frickin’ Styles,” whispers a young man at the bar, “in this pub.” The pop star is asked what he wants to drink and in a voice already inclined to undertones, quietly orders a cup of tea.

A former teen star who is now 25, a happier and rockier solo artist since his boyband One Direction split a few years ago, Styles has hidden himself inside a large, swamp-green parka. He’s tall, around the 6ft mark, and carries himself with a slight stoop. If Styles could only do something about his appearance from the neck up (elfin brow, wide Joker smile, a face that’s recognisable across multiple continents) you sense he could drink in pubs like this anonymously enough. As it is, cover blown, he removes the parka. A woolly jumper beneath has a picture of the planet Saturn on it. Maybe they’ve heard of Styles there, too.

We take a seat in the corner. On nearby tables, conversations start to sputter as people try to keep their own talk ticking along on autopilot while straining to hear what Styles says. I ask him about the sheer strangeness of this and other aspects of fame. Full stadiums, swooning admirers, an excess of opportunity and cash. Why isn’t Styles an absolute ordeal of a human being by now? Keith Richards, at a comparable stage, imagined himself the pirate leader of a travelling nation-state, unbound by international law. Elton John was on vast amounts of cocaine. Meanwhile, here’s Harry, known in the music industry as a bit of a freak, medically, having maintained abnormally high levels of civility in his system.

Styles tilts his head, flattered. There are others, he promises. “People who are successful, and still nice. It’s when you meet the people who are successful and aren’t nice, you think: What’s yer excuse? Cos I’ve met the other sort.”

Styles read Keith Richards’ autobiography a while back, and he recently finished Elton’s, too. (“Soooo much cocaine,” he marvels.) We talk for a bit about whether extreme dissolute behaviour and artistic greatness go hand in hand. Styles, who has just released his second solo album, Fine Line, the penultimate track of which is called Treat People With Kindness, has to hope not. “I just don’t think you need to be a dick to be a good artist. But, then, there are also a lot of good artists who are dicks. So. Hmm. Maybe I need to start scaring babies in supermarkets?”

A couple of lads hustle over to offer drinks. A photo is requested; they say they’ll wait. I’m weirdly anxious about Styles’s phone, which is slung on the table in front of him. What must be the black-market value of that thing? If fans were to get hold of it, would they want to open Styles’s music app first, to listen to tracks from the new album, or rush to see his messages and calls, to find out who Styles has been flirting with late at night? The interest in his music has always run at a ratio of about 50/50 with the interest in who he is dating.

It’s a ratio Styles tries to adjust in favour of the music by being vague about his ex-partners, real and rumoured (Taylor Swift, Kendall Jenner, Parisian model Camille Rowe), diverting to discuss his songs about failed relationships. A year ago, when Styles was floating around near this pub in north London, where he lives, and California, where he tends to record, looking for inspiration for the new album, his close friend Tom Hull told him: “Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up… Let it affect you and write songs about it.”

Styles, who writes in collaboration with Hull and producer Tyler Johnson, sounds as if he took the advice. The new album, Fine Line, is at its best when capturing late-hours moments, drunk calls, “wandering hands”, kitchen snogs. A golden-haired lover recurs. There are up tracks, down tracks, some with the trippy delirium of harpsichord-era Stones, others with the angsty Britpop swell of strings. While I listened, I couldn’t help scribbling down names, possible subjects. On the lyric “There’s a piece of you in how I dress” I wrote: maybe Kendall? In a song about a lover “way too bright for me”: surely Taylor.

Styles says he keeps to a general rule: write what comes and don’t think about it too much afterwards. The only time he worries about an individual lyric is if it risks putting an ex in a difficult position. “If a song’s about someone, is that fine? Or is that gonna get annoying for them, if people try to decipher it?” Has he ever got that judgment call wrong and taken a bollocking from an angry ex? Styles raises an eyebrow. “Maybe ask me in a month.”

I quiz him on something I’ve often wondered about. Why are the very famous so inclined to hook up with the very famous? From the outside it looks twice the hassle, with twice the odds of ending badly. “Don’t we all do that, though?” Styles asks. “Go into things that feel relatively doomed from the start?” I ask him why he doesn’t date normals. He seems tickled: “Um. I mean, I do. I have a private life. You just don’t know about it.”

Styles doesn’t particularly like being asked about his love life, but is amused all the same, as he is about most things. When I ask about the logistics of someone as well known as him dating someone anonymous (“Do you need to give them, like, some sort of primer?”), Styles snorts with laughter.

“Uh-h-h. Like any conversation, I guess, it’s easier if you’re honest. But I try to let it come up when it comes up. Cos that’s a weird thing to talk about, y’know? If you’ve just started seeing someone, and you’re, like: [he adopts a throaty, mission-briefing voice] So! This is what’s gonna happen!” Styles holds out his hands: no, ta. “I don’t wanna have that conversation, man. It would be fucking weird.”

And not very sexy, I say.

“Not sexy,” Styles says, “no.”

A quick aside about his accent, which is hard to capture in print. (“Nat sexy, no.”) After a workout in a hotel gym recently, Styles says he was taken aback (“taken abeck”) to be asked by a stranger whether he was speaking in a fake voice. He was appalled. But after so long crossing borders and time zones, living and working between England and the US, the accent has undergone a jazzy remix, and tends to get farthest from its Cheshire roots when he’s around strangers. Once Styles begins to get comfortable in the pub, the flatter, no-nonsense sounds of his youth return. Nowpe he says, for nope. Fook, for fuck.

“What the fook are they?” This was the response of his childhood pals, he remembers, back in the village of Holmes Chapel, when little Harry had the gumption to show up in the playground wearing Chelsea boots instead of the approved chunky trainers. Styles’s parents had separated when he was very young, but there is no origin-story trauma: he has always stayed close to both. His mother, Anne, would praise his singing voice in the car, and when Styles was 16 it was agreed he could audition for a singing contest on TV.

“The craziest part about the whole X Factor thing,” says Styles, who auditioned for the ITV reality show in 2010, “is that it’s so instant. The day before, you’ve never been on telly. Then suddenly…” Suddenly you’re a piece of national property. “You don’t think at the time, ‘Oh, maybe I should keep some of my personal stuff back for myself.’ Partly because, if you’re a 16-year-old who does that, you look like a jumped-up little shit. Can you imagine? ‘Sorry, actually, I’d rather not comment…’ You don’t know what to be protective of.”

By the winter of 2010, Styles was a fan favourite, a key member of One Direction, a five-piece that enjoyed enormous national exposure and gathered millions of fans before any music had been released. Cameras filmed every part of their rise. There wasn’t any time in the dark to practise, test things out, mentally brace. “We didn’t get to dip in a toe,” Styles says. “But, listen, I was a kid, all I knew was: I didn’t have to go to school any more. I thought it was fucking great.” He remembers having a lot of fun, and being well taken care of. He jokes: “Maybe it’s something I’ll have to deal with a bit later. When I wake up in my 40s and think: Arrrggh.”

In February 2012, One Direction were feted at the Brit Awards, hours before they were due to fly to the US for the first time. On TV that night they looked young, silly, chuffed – on the precipice of something huge, and with no clue at all. Their subsequent wonder-run (five platinum albums, four world tours) had its foundations in their ridiculous popularity in the States. Right away, Styles remembers, “We were fuelling a machine. Keeping the fire going.” He remembers it as a stimulating time; maybe overstimulating. “Coming out of it, when the band stopped, I realised that the thing I’d been missing, because it was all so fast paced, was human connection.”

I first met Styles in 2014, around the time the lack of human connection was starting to bite. One Direction were promoting their penultimate album and I’d been commissioned to write about themthe Guardian. Management felt the boys were so exhausted that my minutes in their presence had to be strictly counted. Inside a circle of cripplingly hot lights, while someone ran the stopwatch, we interacted as humanly as we could.

I remember how jaded the best singer in the group, Zayn Malik, seemed. (Malik was weeks away from quitting.) I also remember how flattered and bewildered the others were to be asked a few grownup questions – and not what Louis Tomlinson would later describe to me as “who’s-your-favourite-superhero… all that shit”. Styles was watchful and quiet that day. By total chance, a week later, we were in the same London cafe and he tapped my shoulder. He was having lunch with friends. “Will ya join us?”

t struck me as a quietly classy move. I was fascinated to see him interact with mates he’d chosen for himself. Styles was dry and funny, older than his years. After lunch we said the usual things about keeping in touch, and followed each other on Twitter. I kept an eye on his updates, about leaving One Direction, releasing an impressive, self-titled debut album in 2017, playing for 36,000 people in Madison Square Garden in New York, acting in Christopher Nolan’s Oscar-nominated war movie Dunkirk. Meanwhile, I did my best to manage the mess that had been made of my own account after Styles’s Twitter follow ignited a small explosion of teenage longing in my mentions. For at least a year I received weekly, sometimes daily, pleas from people who wanted messages conveyed to “H”. Still now, every few days, fans in America, Asia and Europe follow me to “see what H sees” in their timeline.

He has around 50 million social media followers, and with that comes the ability to ripple the internet like somebody airing a bedsheet. I’ve noticed, though, how rarely Styles directs people to support specific causes, last doing so in 2018, when he encouraged people to join a march against gun violence. Why don’t you use your influence more, I ask? “Because of dilution. Because I’d prefer, when I say something, for people to think I mean it.” He runs his fingertips across the table. “To be honest, I’m still searching for that one thing, y’know. Something I can really stand up for, and get behind, and be like: This Is My Life Fight. There’s a power to doing the one thing. You want your whole weight behind it.”

It’s one of the things that sets Styles apart, the way he puts his whole weight behind the different aspects of this strange job. If you watch footage of him as a guest host on Saturday Night Live last month, Styles plunges in, fully inhabiting the silliness of every sketch. He has good songs in his repertoire (2017’s ballad Sign Of The Times stands out), and would probably admit to some middling songs that attest to his relative inexperience as a writer. But whichever of his songs Styles performs, he goes all-in, trusting that his zest and energy will hold an audience’s attention. He approaches this interview in roughly the same spirit, not enjoying every question, fidgeting, pleading for clemency once or twice, but giving everything due consideration.

I bring up something Styles joked about earlier: the possibility of waking up in his 40s with deferred mental health problems.

“Mm,” he says

Have you thought about therapy, I ask, to get ahead of that?

“I go,” he says. “Not every week. But whenever I feel I need it. For a really long time I didn’t try therapy, because I wanted to be the guy who could say: ‘I don’t need it.’ Now I realise I was only getting in my own way.” He shrugs. “It helps.”

Lately he’s been reading a lot (Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women stood out). He’s watched a lot of Netflix (crime thrillers and music docs). He recently cried through Slave Play on Broadway. I sense in Styles, at 25, a pent-up undergraduate hunger, maybe a desire to make up for lost time. “I’ve definitely been wanting to learn stuff, try stuff,” he says. “Things I didn’t grow up around. Things I’d always been a little bit sceptical about. Like therapy, like meditation. All I need to hear is someone saying, ‘Apparently, it’s amazing’, and I’ll try it. When I was in Los Angeles once, I heard about juice cleanses. I thought, yeah, I’ll do a juice cleanse.”

How messy were the results?

“You mean…?” Styles raises an eyebrow, recalling the poos. “They were all right. I was just hungry. And bored.”

One notable feature of Styles’s solo career has been his headlong embrace of unconventional clothing. A 2017-18 tour could have been sponsored by the Dulux colour wheel: mustard tones in Sydney, shocking pink in Dallas. In a more serious sense, some of Styles’s choices have fed into an important political discussion about gendered fashion. In May, as a co-host at the Met Gala in New York, he stepped out in a sheer blouse and a pearl earring. One evening’s work challenged a lot of stubborn preconceptions about who gets to wear what.

He says: “What women wear. What men wear. For me it’s not a question of that. If I see a nice shirt and get told, ‘But it’s for ladies.’ I think: ‘Okaaaay? Doesn’t make me want to wear it less though.’ I think the moment you feel more comfortable with yourself, it all becomes a lot easier.”

What do you mean, I ask?

Styles is leaning forward, hands folded around his cup of tea. “A part of it was having, like, a big moment of self-reflection. And self-acceptance.” He has a habit, when he’s made a definitive statement, of raising his chin and nodding a little, as if to decide whether he still agrees with himself. “I think it’s a very free, and freeing, time. I think people are asking, ‘Why not?’ a lot more. Which excites me. It’s not just clothes where lines have been blurred, it’s going across so many things. I think you can relate it to music, and how genres are blurring…”

Sexuality, too, I say.

“Yep,” says Styles. “Yep.”

There’s a popular perception, I say, that you don’t define as straight. The lyrics to your songs, the clothes you choose to wear, even the sleeve of your new record – all of these things get picked apart for clues that you’re bisexual. Has anyone ever asked you though?

“Um. I guess I haaaaave been asked? But, I dunno. Why?”

You mean, why ask the question?

“Yeah, I think I do mean that. It’s not like I’m sitting on an answer, and protecting it, and holding it back. It’s not a case of: I’m not telling you cos I don’t want to tell you. It’s not: ooh this is mine and it’s not yours.”

What is it then?

“It’s: who cares? Does that make sense? It’s just: who cares?”

I suppose my only question, then, is about the stuff that looks like clue dropping. Because if you don’t want people to care, why hint? Take the album sleeve for Fine Line. With its horizontal pink and blue stripes, a splash of magenta, the design seems to gesture at the trans and bisexual pride flags. Which is great – unless the person behind it happens to be a straight dude, sprinkling LGBTQ crumbs that lead nowhere. Does that make sense?

Styles nods. “Am I sprinkling in nuggets of sexual ambiguity to try and be more interesting? No.” As for the rest, he says, “in terms of how I wanna dress, and what the album sleeve’s gonna be, I tend to make decisions in terms of collaborators I want to work with. I want things to look a certain way. Not because it makes me look gay, or it makes me look straight, or it makes me look bisexual, but because I think it looks cool. And more than that, I dunno, I just think sexuality’s something that’s fun. Honestly? I can’t say I’ve given it any more thought than that.”

In our musty corner of the pub we’ve somehow passed a couple of hours in intense discussion. We’ll lighten up, before Styles heads home, with some chat about clever films (Marriage Story), stupider viral videos (the little boy who’s just learned the word “apparently”), that favourite-superhero stuff that, after all, has its place. He talks about the curious double time scheme of a pop star’s life – those crammed 18-hour days and then the sudden empty off-time when Styles might find himself walking miles across London to buy a book, afterwards congratulating himself: “Well, that’s an hour filled.”

Before we stand up I ask if he’s minded any of my questions.

He pushes out his lips, possibly recalling them one by one, then shakes his head. “What I would say, about the whole being-asked-about-my-sexuality thing – this is a job where you might get asked. And to complain about it, to say you hate it, and still do the job, that’s just silly. You respect that someone’s gonna ask. And you hope that they respect they might not get an answer.”

I tell him I do.

“Cool.”

Styles has to find those lads who wanted a photo. He scoops his phone off the table and flicks his thumb around the screen. Lately, he says, when he messes around on his phone in an idle moment, it’s mostly to look at videos – clips that his friends have sent him, in which their kids sing along to music he’s made. “Never gets old,” Styles says, beaming.

A few years ago, when he emerged from the boyband, blinking, shattered, he set himself three tasks: prioritise friends, learn how to be an adult, achieve a proper balance between the big and the small. Full stadiums, provocative outfits – Styles genuinely loves these things. “But I guess I’ve realised, as well,” he says, “that the coolest things are not always the cool things. Do you know what I mean?” He grabs his parka and his phone and, a little stooped, heads for home.

#harry styles #the guardian #stunt mention #131219

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heartofsnark · 4 years

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This Is Love (Chapter One): Welcome to Hope County

Notes: Soooo, I’ve been talking about this for a bit and it’s time to just take the jump and start publishing my Far Cry 5 fic. I hope you enjoy. Also, i have like a series warning for this that will be on every chapter cause it needs it.

Summary: Dahlia Hale is the youngest person working at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department. Hailing from a small town in Louisiana, it’s going to take her some time to fully acclimate to the new environment and living on her own. Developing friendships takes time even for the most functional of people and for disasters like Dahlia it takes even longer. She gets along with her coworkers and there’s some religious family who’s taken a shine to her, for some reason. It seems like she’s on her way to getting the kind of friends she’s only ever dreamed about, even if it’s going to take some more time.

Then everything goes to shit.

Halfway through her six-month probationary hire and that nice religious family has kicked off a holy war with her becoming enemy number one.

To one side she’s a hero.

To the other she’s a monster. She’s not sure which is right.

Word Count: 9,290

Series Warning: I usually do not like to spoil endgame pairings in my fics, but this warrants being up front. This series is polyseed and involves heavy, recurrent themes of at times romanticized noncon, dubcon, large age differences, and stockholm syndrome that develops into a romantic relationship. The relationship between my oc and the Seeds is extremely unhealthy, toxic, and should never be replicated or sought out in real life. No matter how things progress or how they are portrayed at different points, this fact remains the same. i am comfortable exploring and enjoying these themes in fiction, not everyone is. If you are uncomfortable with or triggered by any of these things, please skip this and take the precautions you feel necessary to avoid this material. If you are an individual who struggles with separating reality and fiction; please do not read this. Otherwise, if you’re comfortable with and enjoy that kind of content, please enjoy.

Chapter Warnings: Bliss flowers, hallucinations, threats of violence (really not bad compared to whats to come)

A shiver rolls down Dahlia’s spine, the chill of the Montana night settling into her bones. A sign welcomes her to Hope County, her motorcycle tire spinning dirt at it as she passes. The moon shines bright in the sky, cascading silver light down on everything. It’s beautiful despite the cold, light reflecting off the lakes and streams that pass through the county.

It’s mostly woods and forests, fields of big white flowers and animals wandering through. The entire county is begging to be put on a postcard, from the animals, to the fields, to the…giant cement statue of a guy with a manbun…

Her tires squeal as she comes to a stop on the thankfully vacant road, she pushes the visor of her helmet up, as if the tint could cause her to see something like this. Sure enough, the white hunk of stone is still there. It’s of a man with his hair pulled back in a small bun, in one hand he holds a book and the other gestures outward.

Hair raises on the back of her neck and goosebumps collect across her skin, the statue is…eerie. It looms across the entire region, a creeping specter. Unnerving doesn’t even begin to describe it, her body has started to lean towards it, almost drawn to it.

Maybe it’s a historical figure for the county? People do that right, build monuments to founders or something. The clothes of the figure seem old fashioned, but she’s not sure about how far back the manbun goes.

She shakes her head and slaps her visor back down, she needs sleep. It shouldn’t be much further to her hotel. Dahlia revs her engine and rushes off that way, finally finding the large wooden hotel with its red roof. There’s a large wooden sign welcoming her to the King’s Hot Spring Hotel, the parking lot is decidedly vacant, and she comes to a stop by the smaller stone black sign that sits close to the larger wooden one, easy to overlook if someone wasn’t looking close enough.

“King’s Hot Spring Hotel

On May 12th, 1902 a 7.6 earthquake struck the mountain south of the hotel. It created a 10 million ton landslide that sliced a deep crevice in the earth and destroyed half the King’s hotel. 16 people were killed in the landslide, their bodies never recovered. To this day, their ghosts are said to haunt the site of the rebuilt hotel.

Built 1866.”

So, from a dirty cockroach motel to a haunted hotel, certainly a step up. She doesn’t really believe in ghosts, they’re cool as all hell, she loves creepy shit. But she doesn’t think any of it is real and if she’s wrong, maybe the ghosts will be nice enough to kill her. She parks her bike and shuts off the engine, unclipping her storage bag from it and making her way to the door.

The inside feels warm and welcoming, rustic. A large stone fireplace with a bear skin rug in front of it, wooden stairs leading to the upper floors. Her eyes scan the room and she finds a registration desk where a woman sits, reading from a white book. She stands out slightly in the old styled hotel, tattoos covering her arms. The woman’s light, almost milky, green eyes, look up to see Dahlia as she makes her way to the desk.

“I called ahead and reserved a room for tonight.”

“Hale, right?” The girl flashes a soft smile as she slides the registration forms across the desk and Dahlia finds herself looking down at the receptionist’s arms, SLOTH and ENVY with strikes through them; half tattooed and half scarred in the woman’s skin. Heavy-handed work.

“Yeah, that’s me, how’d you know?”

“Oh, not many folks check in here anymore, between the ghost tales and the new management.”

“Management?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow as she finishes scribbling in her info and handing her card over.

“Here,” the woman hands Dahlia’s card back along with a room key and a map, “I’m sure you’ll find the path.”

“Uhh…thanks…”

She shakes her head as she leaves the desk, doing a double take at the worker, who’s now back to reading the large white tome with a soft smile on her face. Dahlia is entirely too tired to deal with weird cryptic people, maybe she’s trying to play up the creepy factor of the supposedly haunted hotel. Probably intrigues the tourists or some shit. She takes her phone from her pocket, ringing Lloyd as she walks to her room.

“Hey, Stray,” He greets her with the nickname he gave her and she already feels a little better despite the chill and exhaustion.

“Hey,” Dahlia unlocks her room and strides in, there’s a deer head mounted on the wall and a vase of those white flowers on the bedside drawer, “just wanted to let you know that I am officially in Hope County.”

She tosses her luggage, along with the gunk the receptionist gave her onto the bed and does a fist bump for no one’s benefit but her own.

“That’s good, your interview is tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, hopefully it’ll go well, if not it might be another year of me eating cheese puffs on your couch.”

“You make it sound like you’re some sort of bum.”

“I mean…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m gonna be a mess when you go.”

“If I go, still gotta get the job.”

“You’re gonna nail it, I know it, me and Earl were friends way back. He’s not dumb enough to let you go. And if he is, well, I’ll be having some words with him.”

“You can’t fight someone for not wanting to hire me.”

“I mean, I can, uh, yeah, sweetie it’s stray, I was kinda, oh Caroline wants-“

“Stray, did you throw your fucking phone away?” Caroline, Lloyd’s wife, is on the phone in a second, worriedly yelling.

“I talked to you when I stopped off in Denver.”

“Yeah, in a dingy nasty motel and then we didn’t hear a word from you for over twelve fucking hours!”

“I’m pretty sure I could handle myself,” Dahlia laughs and rolls her eyes, the concern is appreciated but unneeded. She’s a cop and despite her short stature, she’s got muscles and knows how to protect her. Maybe it’s cocky and arrogant, but at this point in her life, she’s not afraid of anything hurting her physically, mentally and emotionally is a whole other ballpark.

“Still, what if you were in an accident. Have you ate? Do you know where you’re eating tonight?”

She ate back in Denver and her stomach is growling now, but she mostly just wants a shower and sleep. She’d rather just grab room service for breakfast.

“I’m fine, I’ve ate and I will eat. Stop worrying, now I’m gonna get settled in for the night, I’ll call you after the interview.”

“Wait, ha-”

“Goodbye, mon cher,” Dahlia ends the call after her casual term of endearment, cher and mon cher as normal to her as bud or pal. Maybe it’s just a Cajun French Louisiana thing, or it’s one of the many things she picked up from her dad. She instinctively plays with the ring that hangs from a chain around her neck, he was always so proud of where he came from, teaching her Cajun French from the moment she could talk. Would he be upset with her leaving the state?

She shakes the thought from her head, she can’t concern herself with the opinions of people who aren’t here, as much as they’d mean to her. Dahlia finally has the tools to be independent and make her own way in this world, she needs to seize any and every opportunity. She double checks that her door is locked, before stripping out of her clothes.

Dahlia sets her phone to play music as she takes a shower, singing along to it as hot water eases her aching muscles. Once she’s cleaned, she dries off and starts to make her way to the bed where her luggage is.

The large white blooms on the table between the bed and window, draw her eye, her suspicion confirmed that they’re the same as the fields of flowers she saw on her way here. They must be a common flower here. She’s not a plant person, but she can appreciate pretty flowers when she sees them. The petals are soft against her finger and she pulls out one of the fresh flowers, sniffing at it. It tickles her nose, the soft scent pleasant, but it makes her want to sneeze. She tucks it back in the vase and scrubs at her nose.

Her vision swims for a moment, suddenly light-headed. She hasn’t slept much and has been driving a lot, her eyes must be tired as well.

Dahlia digs some comfy sleeping clothes from her bag to change into. Content in her shorts and tee, the hotel much warmer than the outside chill. She pushes her luggage off her bed and takes a look at the Hope County map.

Her vision is still swimming but she reaffirms where she needs to be tomorrow for her interview. It’s over in Fall’s End at the Sheriff’s Department. Dahlia fishes a marker out of her discarded jacket pocket and then starts to write directions down on her right forearm before tucking the map away.

She rifles a cigarette from her quickly emptying pack, most places don’t like their hotel rooms stinking like nicotine.

Cool air rushes in as she opens the window, she leans against the windowsill, appreciating the view of the moonlight reflecting in the pool of spring water. Montana really is beautiful.

She lights her cigarette, looking away for a second to ignite it.

“Ooooh ooooh~” A soft melodic voice drifts in, piercing the quiet, and Dahlia’s head snaps back to the window.

In the grass, a woman surrounded by green mist spins and dances, singing softly into the night. She’s young, but still older than Dahlia with dirty blonde hair that falls past her shoulders. A white lace dress with flowers across the waist and skirt. Illuminated by moonlight, a heavenly glow, angelic but singing a siren’s song.

Who would be out there at this time of night?

Dahlia’s the only one in the hotel and she doubts the staff indulges in nightly dance sessions.

When did Dahlia start leaning further out the window?

Every fiber of her being screams at her to run to the woman. To jump out the window if she has to, anything to get closer to the hauntingly beautiful woman dancing along the decks before the spring.

Dahlia slams the window shut, quick and hard enough to rattle it. It’s late, she’s exhausted, she’s ridden her bike almost twenty-eight hours straight. Only stopping for a late night in a shitty hotel in Denver before getting back on the road at eight am this morning.

Between ghost stories and exhaustion her brain is fucking with her.

The woman’s singing is still there.

Softer now but still present, still beckoning.

Every muscle in her body is tense, prepared to bolt in order to go find that woman.

She smashes her fist against the side of her head, the impact of her knuckles rattling her skull as she literally tries to knock sense into herself. Her visions seem to clear a bit and she can’t hear the singing anymore, but she also might have concussed herself.

Her cigarette is stamped out before she’s even halfway through it and she’s setting her phone alarm before jumping into the bed.

She buries her face in the pillow, no matter what she hears or thinks she’ll see, she’s not going anywhere until the morning. This interview is the most stressful thing she’s dealt with in years, so much rides on it, and she can’t be exhausted tomorrow from chasing fairy ghosts or what the fuck ever.

Her mind is just playing tricks on her, it’s an asshole, it does that.

She’s not certain exactly when she fell asleep, but the next thing she knows her alarm is going off. Dahlia groans and forces herself out of bed, she hates waking up. Her interview isn’t even late, but god, fuck waking up.

Her head is clearer now, no swimming in her vision and no singing or sirens. She forces her way out of bed, groggily trying to go about her day.

She’s running late, she’s always running late, time isn’t real.

After taking her sweet sleepy time to get herself put together and inhaling a room service breakfast, Dahlia is running down the hotel stairs and scrubbing syrup off her chin. Why does she do this to herself? The receptionist calls out something and she waves her off.

Helmet slapped on and engine revving, she guns it out of the parking lot and makes her way to towards the Valley. She comes to a bridge and pulls her arm from her jacket to read her scribbled directions, remembering too late that she can’t read her own handwriting.

She squints trying to decipher what the hell she wrote, her chicken scratch leaving a lot to be desired. It looks like it might say she’s going to Holland Valley or Halland Volley or Hallard, something to that effect by crossing the Honne…Benne…Rover….Dridge… Why does she do this to herself?

She’s probably on the right track, probably. Dahlia readjusts her jacket, confirming that her mess of directions won’t be getting any clearer the longer she stares at it and makes her way over the bridge. More signs hang from the inner framework of the bridge, half of them bearing a cross symbol with what looks like sunbeams coming from the center, the other half states The Power Of YES; Take The Leap.

Heebie jeebies nest in her gut, those goosebumps from earlier coming back. Religion…

Maybe it was too optimistic, but she had hoped further up North she’d see less of…that. She did searches online and was told based on some statistical thing that Montana was less religious than Louisiana. But apparently religion isn’t completely avoidable in the United States.

The crisp smell of apples manages to break through her helmet as she leaves the bridge. Apple trees as far as the eye can see, bright red fruit gleaming under sunlight, a giant orchard surrounds the road. People mill about the apple trees; couples holding hands and parents hefting their children up on their shoulders to pick the highest apples their little hands can reach. A few people look at her as she rides past, the rev of her engine and the music pounding from her helmet drawing attention. Some looks are judgmental, others unconcerned, a small kid waves at her as she passes by and she waves back, smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. There’s a constructed Apple Statue in the orchard, noting that she’s riding through the Gardenview Orchard.

Over the horizon, built into the hills of the Holland Valley is a giant Hollywood style sign that says ‘YES’. It’s infinitely less creepy than the weird man statue, but far cheesier. Whether that’s better or worse? Who knows, but Hope County is definitely…weirder than she anticipated.

She passes through the orchard and coming up on the left apple trees are replaced with pumpkins on the ground. Fields growing them, some clearly bigger and further along in the growing process, none fully ripe, however. A house is built among the fields, one fence with a sign that says Rae-Rae’s Pumpkin Farm.

There’s a couple walking around, holding hands, but more importantly there’s a dog. A mottled coat of black, white, and blue gray with a bandana around their neck. The dog’s head raises at the rev of Dahlia’s motorcycle engine passing by on the road, tail wagging but he doesn’t run out, a well-trained doggo.

She’s running late.

She doesn’t have time.

One pet can’t hurt.

Dahlia comes to a screeching halt, tires squealing and bracing herself against her handlebars of her bike so she doesn’t fly across the farm. The couple taken aback, staring wide-eyed at her as she kills her music and yanks off her helmet. The doggie is still wagging its tail, eager to meet their new friend.

“Can I pet your dog?”

The couple is older, by Dahlia standards, so probably around their thirties…or forties…or twenties…ages confuse her. A woman with short sandy hair and a man with a knit hat over his head, the woman’s dropped jaw becomes a soft smile, her eyes gentle.

“Of course,” a thick southern accent tints her voice, “Boomer’s doesn’t know a stranger.”

Dahlia stays outside the wooden fence, not wanting to step on crops or something, but she leans over it. Boomer’s big brown eyes landing on her, so cute, she already loves him. A few coos and he’s already rushing over, standing to put his paws at the top of the fence so he can get some much-deserved love. She pets the top of his head, scratching behind his ears and around his neck. He eagerly leans into scritch and pet, licking her.

“Awww, such a good boy, yes you are,” she praises and laughs, soaking it in. Even if she’s running late, this is more than worth it.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The woman asks.

“Nah, here for a job interview,” Dahlia answers, hugging around Boomer’s neck as she snuggles him.

“Where you interviewing at?”

“Sheriff’s department.”

“You’re kind of young for a cop, ain’tcha?”

“I’m an adult,” she says, shrugging her shoulders through the hug. She is a young adult and that’s all that needs to be said on that.

“They finally trying to fill that deputy position?”

“Seems like it.”

“Sorry, to brush you off so soon, but we have to go pick up some equipment before noon and we’re already cutting it close.”

Shit, right, time. She’s running late too, but the dog was worth it.

“No problem, have a good one, you keep being a good boy, Boomer.”

She gives a final scratch to his head, then slides her helmet back on, waving off the couple as she hops back on her bike. Her nerves have eased slightly at having gotten some time with a dog and even if she’s late, she doesn’t regret it.

Her engine revs and she’s back to traveling down the quiet Montana roads. The sheriff’s department is in Fall’s End. A water tower baring the town’s name lets her know she’s arrived in the right area. It’s not a huge town. Along the main road, there’s the sheriff’s department, a general store, a bar, a church. There’s little streets and roadways showing that beyond those there’s houses and an apartment complex. Not huge, but certainly bigger than where she’s from, which…isn’t saying much.

Dahlia parks her motorcycle outside the sheriff’s department, all those initially dissipated nerves are bubbling back to the surface. Her stomach in absolute knots and her muscles tense with anxiety. She shuts off her bike and pockets her keys then pulls off her helmet, fiddling with her hair. A deep breath, before she finally steels herself to step into the building.

There’s a desk to Dahlia’s right when she enters the building, an older woman with a layered bob of red hair.

“There something I can help you with, darling?” Her southern accented voice asks.

“I have an interview with the sheriff.”

“Really,” the woman’s eyes scan Dahlia up and down, eyebrows furrowed in judgement, “can I get your name?”

“Hale,” she murmurs, once again fiddling with her messy strands of dark hair. She knows she doesn’t exactly look the most professional right now. But professional clothes and motorcycles don’t truly mix. The woman, her desk tag says N. McClure, shuffles through some documents and reads over something.

“Okay, just take a seat and I’ll let Earl know you’re here.”

Dahlia plops down in one of the reception area’s chairs, fiddling with the cat ears on her motorcycle helmet. Her leg bounces up and down, shaking out excess energy as the woman at the desk starts to call back, asking for Whitehorse. It’ll be fine, Dahlia reassures herself, Lloyd and Caroline have been talking her up to their old friend. All she needs to do is be herself, maybe, probably not. She’s kind of a mess.

The clock hand ticks slowly, Dahlia feeling like she’s about to go crazy waiting for her interview to start. Finally, the woman hangs up the phone she was calling back to Whitehorse on, a soft smile on her face that pulls at the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Earl’s ready to talk to you, come on back.”

The older woman steps out and helps show Dahlia to the office door, passing through a bullpen style office area to get there, Sheriff Whitehorse is scrawled on a plaque by the door. Dahlia knocks and he tells her to come on in, she slowly opens the door and steps in. There’s a modest sized quaint office with only a few personal touches. She’s only seen old photos Lloyd had of himself and Whitehorse, from way back in police academy. The man before her is much older than he was in those photos, weathered with wrinkled skin. He looks like an old sheriff pulled directly from a movie; green uniform, cowboy hat, scraggly brown hair, and a mustache.

“You’re Lloyd and Caroline’s Stray, right?” He says, standing up from his desk to shake her hand over it. He’s over a foot taller than her, probably close to a foot and a half. His hand swallows her own whole, it’s probably bigger than her face.

“Holy shit, you’re tall.”

That’s not a good way to start an interview, but he seems to be laughing and smiling. So, maybe it’s fine. Lloyd once said she has a charm about her despite her lack of tact or decorum. She’s still trying to figure out what that charm is, but still.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” he says, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. She follows suit, leg still bouncing like it was in the waiting room. Whitehorse puts a manilla folder down on the desk, the little tab labeled D. Hale. It’s surprisingly thick for someone who’s never met her in person.

“Lloyd and Caroline talk highly of you, hell the whole town does.”

“The whole town…?” She raises an eyebrow, what’s that supposed to mean? Reinette, Louisiana is a small town, it’s police department has about six people in total and everyone knows everyone. But certainly, they wouldn’t call up Whitehorse to talk about her.

“I swear Lloyd must have handed out the stations number to everyone down there, we’ve been getting two, three calls a day of people who can’t say enough good things about you.”

“Oh god.” Heat flushes up Dahlia’s cheeks, god damn it, Lloyd.

“You’ve left quite an impression on the place.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Dahlia pushes some hair off her face, fidgeting with the locks.

“And you haven’t been working there long, have you?”

“Not counting training, about a year and a half, I know I don’t have much experience.”

“Still making such an impact in a short amount of time, says something.”

“Thanks.” His words soothe her nerves and embarrassment a bit, maybe this will go well.

“But, there’s the issue of your record…”

“My record…?” She shouldn’t have a record, he opens the manilla folder and she feels bile raise in the back of her throat.

“Between what’s on the books and what everyone was saying, I was starting to wonder if there were two of you, Hale. Runaways, break in, fights, attempted grand theft auto, and petty thefts, the list goes on. Doesn’t exactly scream future cop.”

“I thought records got expunged at eighteen.”

“If you request it.”

“Oh…well then…”

“I know this all happened when you were a minor and you’ve been clear for the past two or so years, but…”

“It still looks bad, I know, I know. I’m not going to try to tell you some bullshit excuse or sob story. I did a lot of shit I shouldn’t have for a lot of reasons. I regret most of it, not all of it, but most of it. Lloyd and Caroline helped me get my life back on track, I know two years doesn’t seem like a long time, but I’m not the same kid I was when I did that shit.”

That what she tells him, but she’s not sure how much she believes it. It feels more like her situation’s changed than she’s changed, but if she just said that she’s no longer a delinquent because she doesn’t need to be, well, it wouldn’t sound as good or employable.

“What made you wanna be a cop?”

“Wanted to help people,” she answers with a shrug, it’s not really anything more complicated than that. Whitehorse huffs out what sounds like a laugh, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Okay, I gotta ask, why here? Lloyd and the whole town loves you. It’s a hell of a move and the pay raise ain’t much.”

“Look,” she sighs and folds her hands on top of her motorcycle helmet, calming her body down, “I love Reinette, I love Lloyd and I love Caroline. I owe them and the whole town a debt that I’ll never pay back. But, I’m twenty years old. I’m not their kid and even if I was it’d be time for me to go, I’ve taken enough of their time, money, and everything. Reinette, bless the town’s heart, it’s...dying. There’s more cows than people, our station has more cars than officers. It won’t be long before they do away with the town’s department and just do everything through the Parish. And the parish’s department doesn’t need any more officers.”

Her throat constricts as bile raises in the back of it, her stomach churning. After everything that town and its people have done for her, she’s leaving them. A traitor, betrayer.

“You figure any of those officers will even find work in the parish, at all?” He asks with a knowing, soft look in his eye. If he keeps in contact with Lloyd, he’s already well aware of the trouble in Reinette.

“I doubt it, town’s a sinking ship. Lloyd…he’s willing to go down with it,” her eyes sting and she clenches her jaw, containing herself, “I can’t do that. As much as they all mean to me, I can’t. Lloyd’s gonna retire when it goes under, I’m twenty, the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m trying to help people; I’m trying to make a difference. But my hands keep getting tied because of money, resources, anything and everything. Lloyd and Caroline gave me the means and the tools to make something of myself, I’m not gonna piss that away because some fucker decided we weren’t worth investing in, I…”

She’s clenching her fists and nearly smacking her helmet, anger and frustration welling up inside of her, a geyser of emotions threatening to break through. This is an interview, she can’t do this, can’t be emotional. She needs to stop this, a deep breath before she starts to speak again.

“I can do more here, I know no place is perfect, but I can do more here.”

“Well, no one can say you’re not passionate.” Whitehorse lets out another chuckle, seemingly amused.

“Sorry, certain shit, just winds me up.” She massages the back of her neck, why is she such a fucking idiot? No one wants to hire a cop who can’t keep their cool and throws a fit. She was supposed to tone down her dumbassery, not ramp it up.

“There’s nothing wrong with caring about what you’re doing.”

“Yeah…” She half-heartedly agrees, Whitehorse is trying to make her feel better. Her interview has become him trying to console her, absolutely pathetic. She might as well call Lloyd and Caroline now and tell them she blew it.

“You got any questions for me?”

“Uh…”

Did she just fuck this up as bad as she thinks she did?

“Not really, I just wanna get to work.” That earns her another chuckle from Whitehorse, even if he doesn’t think she’s competent, at least she’s entertaining it seems.

“Full of piss and vinegar, ain’t ya?”

“To say the least.” She lets out a dry laugh, but there’s no mirth of joy behind it. Not a shred of happiness as she thinks about what a fucking idiot she is.

“Well, if that’s all,” Whitehorse stands up from his desk, “I’ll go ahead and show you out.”

Dahlia stands up, the sheriff places a large hand on her back as they leave his office, finding their way back into the reception area.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Hale.”

“Same, thanks for taking the time to talk to me.” She’s sure that he’d rather be doing literally anything else, especially after that beyond trash interview.

“It’s no problem at all, I-”

The doors to the department open, a man and a woman in green deputy uniforms coming in. Another giant, the man is barely an inch of two shorter than Whitehorse, with shaggy dark hair and hazel eyes. More importantly, the woman while taller doesn’t absolutely tower over Dahlia, her long black hair is braided over her shoulder and her olive skin makes her hunter green eyes stand out all the more.

Dahlia’s throat feels tight and her heart race is a little faster. So…that’s a thing.

“We running a daycare, now?” The guy asks, looking down his nose at Dahlia, though that might just be because of the height difference. Either way, she glares at him, he’s been around her a grand total of five seconds and he’s being a dick.

“Pratt…” The woman, her name tag says J. Hudson, rolls her eyes at him. Her voice is warm and rich; why is Dahlia’s face so hot? Is she sick? Has the Montana weather already kicked her ass, what is this?

“This is one of the interviewees. Hale, these are my deputies.”

“Nice to meet you.” Hudson flashes a soft smile and what is Dahlia’s heart doing? It’s like someone’s squeezing it and filled her gut with bugs while they were at it. She fucks up an interview and now she needs a doctor, great.

“Same, I was, uh, just on my way out actually.” She needs to go sleep off whatever the fuck has just hit her.

“Good luck,” the taller woman gives a friendly tap to Dahlia’s bicep, “hopefully we’ll be seeing more of you around here.”

Dahlia is dying.

That’s the only explanation. She fucked up an interview and now she has the heart plague or some shit, hell of a day.

“Uh, yeah, I, um, ‘preciate it.” She’s avoiding eye contact and she doesn’t know why she's stumbling over her words and she doesn’t know why.

“Pssh,” Pratt scoffs, “she’s gonna need it.”

Suddenly, she can talk again. Weird. Hudson and Whitehorse shake their heads, clearly use to his bullshit

“Sorry about Pratt, he’s, well he’s Pratt.”

“Eh, every station has at least one cop who’s just trying to make up for his tiny dick.”

“I assure you, I-”

“Enough,” Whitehorse cuts him off, talking like he’s breaking up a child’s squabbling. Doesn’t really help make her look any more mature or competent, way to steer into the skid, Dahlia.

“For the millionth time, no one wants to hear about your dick, Pratt.” Hudson rolls her eyes, why is that being said for the millionth time?

“Well, that’s certainly my cue to go, have a good one.”

Dahlia quickly waves off the sheriff and deputies, making her escape. She takes the couple steps to her motorcycle with quick rigid movement, making sure she’s away from windows or the glass door, not wanting any of them to see her.

She lets out a low guttural groan muffled by how tightly her jaw is clenched jaw and knocks her knuckles against the back of her head.

Idiot, she fucked everything up by going on some huge ass fucking rant.

Despite the distance, this was a phenomenal opportunity the best she’s had. It’s not like she hasn’t looked into place in Louisiana, but something is always wrong. She’s never made it as far as the interview. Either she never gets a call back, maybe they’d seen her records the same way Whitehorse did and didn’t even bother giving her that chance. Or she’d learn the town, parish, city, whatever was no better off than Reinette. One of the sheriffs she talked to on the phone knew her stepfather and recognized her name, nearly making her puke before she hung up.

This was beyond a shadow of a doubt the best chance she’s had. Whitehorse has the Lloyd seal of approval which is as good as gold. And as much as the distance is guilt inducing…, the fear of betrayal and abandoning people who mean so much to her. But, she needs somewhere far away.

As many good memories as Lloyd, Caroline, and the people of Reinette have given her. There are still too many bad ones, too many people figuring out where she came from, one too many bad memories trying to be more than just that. As much as it may eat her up to leave, it’ll eat her up even more to stay. Between the impending unemployment and her own past, every good moment there has a shadow looming over it.

When she gets back to Reinette she’ll start working to get her record taken care of. Once that’s settled, it’s back to job hunting. A bump in the road, a moment of frustration, but she’ll come out the other end. She always does.

Her stomach growls, burning through a pack of cigarettes and stress binge eating sound like a great way to deal with this. She’ll find some place to stuff her face and call Lloyd once she gets back to the hotel.

There’s a general store, she doesn’t know if the bar lets minors in, so it’s probably her best place to grab some quick snack. She plops her helmet on and makes the short drive to the store, parking her bike outside and pulling her helmet back off to light a cigarette by the dumpsters. Her stressed brain is desperately craving nicotine.

She rips open her pack of cigarettes and lights one up, bringing it to her lips. Smoke pools in her lungs, clawing to her insides and easing her nerves if only for a second. Holding it there for a moment before breathing it out into the air. Her eyes are drawn to the neon sign of The Spread Eagle bar, even bright in the daylight. It also seems to have some activity despite the early hour. Well, early for a bar. A white truck pulls up in front of the building, a man with long grungy hair climbing out of the passenger seat.

Those odd pains in her chest and churns in her stomach fade as she inhales the smoke, looking up at the clear blue sky. A soft breeze blows through, carrying the gray trails away with it. Montana really is beautiful…

“Get back here!” A woman yells out, door to the bar swinging open violent as the man with long hair comes rushing back out, arms piled high with crates of alcohol.

Dahlia drops her cigarette and helmet, bolting towards the bar, as the thief tries to scramble into the back of the pickup truck. He gets the crates set down, but she’s grabbed the back of his shirt before he can climb in. A harsh yank, pulling the tall man back into her and away from the truck. She encircles her arms under his armpits and locks her hands behind his neck, grappling into a full nelson hold that keeps him from running off. The odd angle of these heights and the way he was yanked from the back of the truck leaves him on his knees in his grasp.

“Someone call the sheriff’s department!” She yells out, she doesn’t have any jurisdiction here or cuffs to actually arrest the guy.

He tries to fight back against the hold, attempting to break free, but all he manages to do is writhe and squirm. The door of the truck swings open, the driver jumping out, his feet hitting the ground with a heavy sound. Another man easily a foot or more taller than her.

“Help me, brother Theodore,” the man in her hold struggles to beg for help.

“We have strict orders from John Seed to confiscate this liquor.”

“Don’t know or care who that is, mon cher.”

“Someone like you doesn’t deserve to know him,” the guy tells her, sneering and she sees his finger twitch, brushing over the gun in his belt holster. She can’t have firearms going off in a residential area.

“All you’ll do is end up shootin’ your friend, don’t be stupid. Liquor ain’t worth bloodshed.”

He lets out a sigh and his hand relax, something clicking in his mind. The man, Theodore, chews his lip, eyes flickering as she nearly sees the gears turning in his head.

“What’s going on here?” A familiar rough voice asks over Dahlia’s shoulder, she doesn’t need to look to know Whitehorse has come to investigate. Even if she did, she wouldn’t dare look away from the man in front of her, not until she’s sure he won’t try to shoot.

“These pieces of shit peggies were trying to steal my liquor stash,” a woman explains, somewhere behind Dahlia.

“Liquors still in the back of the truck,” Dahlia tells them, none of it seemed to break, so hopefully it won’t hurt the bar too much.

“If it wasn’t for her, they would have cost me a month’s worth of sales.”

“Pratt, Hudson,” Whitehorse calls the names of his deputies.

“I got it here,” Hudson taps on Dahlia arm, cuffs in hand, and that weird heart thing is happening again.

“Um, yeah, o-of course.” She maneuvers away from the guy, she’s never stumbled over her words like that before. Hudson cuffs the guy and starts reading his rights off.

“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” Pratt barks out at the Theodore guy who's surprisingly obedient as he lets the deputy cuff him.

Dahlia scratches at her nose, watching the scene unfold. She’s finally gotten a good look at the woman who was being robbed.

And, not only is everyone here tall, they’re also apparently beautiful. The woman is than both Dahlia and Hudson, with honey blonde hair tucked up into a bun and soft blue eyes. Her features are soft, cherubic almost, with freckles over the bridge of her nose.

Have women always been this pretty?

When did women start being this pretty?

The fuck is her heart doing?

“Looks like it’s a good thing you were here,” Whitehorse tells her, a soft smile tugging at his lips, “you managed to get Mary May’s liquor back and stopped it from escalating.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“Someone you know, sheriff?” The blonde, Mary May asks. His smile gets wider and he squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, a comforting touch.

“This is my new Junior Deputy.”

“I am?”

He’s not serious, there’s no way, he has to be fucking with her.

“Unless you changed your mind?”

“Hell no,” she shakes her head, “I am the new Junior Deputy, wait, Junior?”

“You’ll start with a six-month probationary hire, paid of course, manage that and we’ll take you on permanently.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You’ll start next, c’mon down to the station Mary, we’ll book ‘em and get your report in.”

“See you around, stranger,” Mary May tells her as she follows after Whitehorse, Hudson and Pratt forcing the thieves along. Theodore shooting a glare Dahlia’s way.

“Look forward to working with you, Rookie.”

“Pfft, I give her a week, tops.”

And with that, Dahlia is left alone on the road of Falls End…with a new job.

She got the job.

She’s got to get through the probationary hire, but she got the job. Holy shit. Holy shit. And she starts in a week. She needs to call Lloyd and Caroline, she needs to find somewhere to live, there’s so much to do.

Dahlia is practically skipping back over to her helmet and bike. She’s gotta start getting her ducks in a row.

She speeds her way back through Hope County, making her way back to the hotel. She has so many fucking calls to make and shit to go through. Before she knows it she’s back in the Kings Spring Hotel parking lot, fumbling to get her phone. As silly as it may be, she’d rather call Lloyd and Caroline in a less populated area. She’s grinning ear to ear, enough to hurt her cheeks, she looks like a dork and that’s not going to get any better. Helmet under her arm, she dials Lloyd as she paces in the isolated parking lot.

“How’d it go?” Lloyd is asking before she even says hi.

“Six months, probationary hire, then we’ll go from there.”

‘So, you got the job?”

“That was the bummer way of saying I got the job, yeah.”

“I can hear you smiling!”

“Shut it!”

“Caroline! She got the job, yeah!”

“I,” she rubs a hand down her face, “I thought for sure I blew it.”

“What changed?”

“Some bar across the street got robbed right after my interview, I stepped in, next thing I know I’m the Junior Deputy.”

“Holy fuck, do you know what that is, Stray?”

“Dumb luck?”

“Fate, Stray, it’s fucking fate! The world telling you that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be!”

“You really are a sap, ain’t ya?”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m staying another night here, but once I hop off I gotta start looking into where I’m gonna stay. I start in a week, so I gotta start moving, I’ll see you all in two or three days once I make the drive. It’s gonna be tight, but I’ll manage.”

“Man, you’re really leaving.”

“No crying.”

“Seems like yesterday Caroline found you in the barn.”

“No crying.”

“You were so thin, just a little bag of bones…” His voice is choking up.

“I’m hanging up, you cry baby!”

She does just that, smiling up at the sky. It’s happening, it’s really happening. It feels like the start of a new life, a new her. There’s a jump in her step as she makes her way back into the hotel, room service food and she’ll start making phone calls.

“Miss Hale!” The soft lilted voice of the receptionist calls out when she sees Dahlia.

“Oh, hey.” Dahlia walks to the desk, head tilted in question, what could she need?

“A heads up, we’re switching the water in the tank for the shower and bath system to water pumped in from the spring.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“It’s so much more relaxing than regular tap water, be sure to use it tonight.”

“Uh yeah, thanks, by the way can I order some room service?”

“Of course.”

Dahlia goes through her order for room service, being assured the order will be put in and delivered before she knows it. With that she goes back up to her room, she starts digging through the bedside drawer, searching for a phone book for the area. There’s a white book in the top drawer, with that same strange cross like symbol that was on the signs along the bridge. She throws it on the bed, finding a local phone book beneath it, much more important.

She starts rifling through pages. Hope County is mostly a trailer park town, for people who can’t afford to build or buy an actual home and land. There is an apartment complex in Falls End, but the rent is high for pretty small apartments. The prices probably jacked since housing is so limited. She’d rather get a whole trailer to herself for cheaper and just travel further for work.

Hours pass by her making phone calls, seeing about housing and stuffing food in her face when she’s not talking. The Silver Lake Trailer Park that’s nearest the station has no vacancy or trailers available for rent, but they refer her to the Moonflower Trailer Park. It’s some distance, but with how fast she rides her bike, it’s doable. It’s the only place with vacancy, she’ll drop by with a down payment and check out the trailer tomorrow before she heads back to Louisiana to get her stuff and everything tidied up there. The world outside the hotel window has gone dark, moon hanging bright in the sky.

That settled she finishes off her food and collapses back on the bed. She’s still smiling, grinning ear to ear.

“Wooooooo!” She yells out and pumps her fist up at the ceiling, fuck yeah, she’s got this.

She’ll grab one of those spring water showers and then pass out for the night. She grabs her phone and sets it up to play music in the bathroom while she washes up. Her clothes hit the floor, air conditioner chilling her skin as she waits for the water to heat up. It has a soft floral scent and is tinted slightly green, spring water.

She steps in under the hot spray of water, letting it wash away the sweat and dirt of the day. Her muscles relax under the water and steam, as she scrubs the hotel soap into her skin. She blinks her eyes open once she’s done washing her hair, finding her vision clouding, her body feeling heavier and heavier. Must be the exhaustion of the day. Dahlia quickly finishes washing, the last thing she needs is to fall asleep in the shower again.

Her steps are shaky, her body swaying as the world swims around her. Colors distort and shift in prisms before her eyes. It’s like the night before, but times a million. Her movements sluggish as she dries herself and quickly pulls on her sleep clothes. She was feeling ill earlier, maybe it’s catching up to her? But it doesn’t feel the same. Not panicky and nervous. One of her favorite songs starts to play through her phone, though its eerie tones aren’t as welcomed in this moment.

She grips the sink for leverage, steadying herself as she looks into the mirror

All our times have come.

Her dark brown eyes aren’t dark brown, not quite. She tugs at her eyelids, the iris growing milkier and lighter than she’s ever seen it. What the hell is this? A soft melodic laugh echoes through the room, like it’s near.

Here but now they're gone.

She stumbles out of the bathroom, finding her empty bedroom. Nothing unusual.

Seasons don't fear the reaper.

The laugh rings out again, a flash of white passing by her open door. When did it open? She didn’t leave it open.

Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain...

She’s walking out her door before she can give it another thought, looking back and forth across the hall, who’s there?

We can be like they are

Her feet pad down the hallway, steps suddenly sure and confident as she tries to follow the voice. Like her body is being drawn, pulled, following sheer instinct. She needs to find them.

Come on baby... don't fear the reaper

A flash of white, the swish of lace fabric, that laugh again vanishing into one of the rooms. Dahlia is there, trying to wrench open the door. Then it rings out from behind her.

Baby take my hand... don't fear the reaper

A woman stands at the end of a long hallway, the one from the tight before. Long sandy hair and beautiful green eyes. A blue butterfly perches itself on her fingers, the woman looking at it in awe. Dahlia takes slow steps forward, she wants to speak, ask who she is and what she’s doing here. But her tongue is heavy, her throat tight, vocal cords numb, not a sound escaping.

Baby I'm your man...

Green eyes flicker from the butterfly to Dahlia, a soft almost mischievous smile tugging at the woman’s lips. She laughs again as Dahlia nears her, then she runs, childish and giggling she runs towards one of the rooms. Dahlia is chasing her even after she vanishes from sight, legs moving without her permission, instinct driving her to reach this woman. She doesn’t know why, but she needs to reach her, touch her. Be closer.

La la la la la

The laughter turns into soft humming, singing echoing through the halls. Somehow the sound is everywhere, all consuming and right in her ear, but also distant the source too far away for her to find. She walks down the halls, taking turns and climbing up stairs, following her instinct that pulls her in each direction she goes.

Valentine is done

Flashes of white fabric, doors closing and shutting. It’s a game of tag that she can’t seem to win, the small hotel has somehow become a labyrinth as she tries to find the humming woman. Short hallways and few rooms have been traded for never ending paths with room lining them.

Here but now they're gone

Sometimes spacious and open, other times claustrophobic, choking, walls scraping the skin of her arms where she has to fear she might become stuck. More halls and more floors than she’s ever seen, winding paths that make her dizzy. But she can’t stop searching for that woman.

Romeo and Juliet

One more turn, the woman is at the end of a hallway. Standing before a door, softly singing to what is now two butterflies balanced on her fingers. Dahlia starts to walk down the hallway, tight, claustrophobic. She keeps her hands on the walls as if it will give her more space, as if she could force the walls to open wider for her.

Are together in eternity...Romeo and Juliet

Her heartbeat races as she walks closer and closer, the walls threatening to crush her between them. She can hardly breathe, every breath ragged and tight. Dying. She feels like she’s dying, air being stolen from her lungs and heart pounding lie it’s trying to escape her chest. It worsens with every step she takes near the woman.

40,000 men and women everyday... Like Romeo and Juliet

Some part of her brain, the small part that doesn’t have a thick haze of fog clinging to it, tells her to run the other way. That with this feeling only growing with every step towards the siren, with her heart pounding harsher, breathing getting raspier, she’ll die if she keeps going. That this truly is a siren luring her to death, but she can’t listen to that part of her. Her body won’t. She needs to reach her.

40,000 men and women everyday... Redefine happiness

She’s getting closer and closer; the woman isn’t running this time. Just calming singly, like she doesn’t even notice Dahlia. She tries to reach out for the woman, her fingers nearly brushing the woman’s dress sleeve.

Another 40,000 coming everyday... We can be like they are

Then the woman walks through the door, Dahlia could curse and cry if her vocal cords would only work. Once again, the woman evading her, being just out of reach. But this hall has no doors along its sides, no turns or twists. The only two options are going back or going through the door after her. It’s not even a choice.

Come on baby... don't fear the reaper

She wrenches the door open and she’s in another world. No more wood walls and floors, her bare feet touching lush grass that tickles her skin. White petals float in the air and scatter across the ground. Trees curl around the area and when she looks out at the horizon, she sees that large statue of that man looming over the area.

Baby take my hand... don't fear the reaper

When she looks straight ahead at the middle of the field is the woman, she twirls, short white dress fanning out around her hips. She stops, turning to face Dahlia, she smiles softly. Delicate and angel like, she stretches her hand out. An offer, a beckoning.

We'll be able to fly... don't fear the reaper

The feeling of impending death lifts the very moment she sees the woman. Her heartbeat and her breathing easing, relief and contentment filling her body. She’s smiling and she doesn’t know why she feels alive. Free, like she can do anything. She’s walking closer and closer to the woman, each step making her happier and happier. Her body lighter and lighter. Calm and peace, she’s never known. She’s right where she belongs, she doesn’t need to be anywhere else.

Dahlia reaches out, finally about to touch her, a touch of their hands is so simple, so minor. But it feels like the only thing she wants. All she’s ever want, like every moment in her entire life has been building up to this, being here with her, whoever she is.

Before skin can meet skin, the siren fades to mist.

No, no, no!

She grasps desperately at the air where the woman once was, her heart racing, her lungs stinging like the airs been knocked out of them. The world is crumbling, falling down, everything going out beneath her feet. It’s falling apart and she can’t stop it, she can’t fix it.

Dahlia takes a heavy gasp, desperately sucking in a heavy breath and she blinks, the world around her has completely shifted. Her vision isn’t blurred, no more prisms of color before her eyes.

Cold, goosebumps raising up on her skin, shorts and tee doing nothing to save her from the Montana breeze. She’s outside the hotel, in the world she knows. That damn statue looming still in the distance ahead of her.

Dull.

The landscaped she was so mesmerized by this day, seems so dull now. She feels dull, after so many emotions, so much intensity both in fear and happiness…she feels so numb. Dahlia rubs her fingers together, her craving for the feeling of another’s hand in her own…there’s an ache. She was so close, but now she’s been plunged back into reality.

She stands out in the field outside the hotel, staring at that cement statue, it still seems to call her. Her heart telling her to go towards that looming structure, but her head tells her to go back inside the hotel.

So, she doesn’t move.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, just staring.

“Miss Hale!” A voice pulls her further back into reality, the hotel receptionist walking out towards her with a large blanket.

Dahlia blinks a few times, she no longer feels numb, the very real emotion of shame flooding in. She’s standing out in public, in her pajamas. Did she just wander out of her hotel room in her sleep clothes? She must look ridiculous.

“Hey…”

“Is everything alright? You just walked out of your hotel, looked like you were sleepwalking.”

“Uh…yeah, I guess.”

That makes sense, she must have went to bed and had a weird dream…yeah.

“Here,” the woman wraps the large blanket around Dahlia, “you must be freezing.”

“Thanks, sorry, I, just, weird dream.” She murmurs as they walk back to the hotel, Dahlia giving one last glance at the hotel.

“Dreams are nice, aren’t they? Sometimes you just wanna stay there forever.”

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #john seed #faith seed #jacob seed #deputy oc #This Is Love #Dahlia Hale

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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777

do you think weird it's for someone to have never tried soda? I’d be surprised that they were never curious enough to try it if they can access soda, but then again I live in a third world country and not everyone gets to try everything. I’ve learned to judge less when it comes to opportunities like this. is there any foreign film you recommend? Portrait of a Lady on Fire was fucking intense and so, so so good. do you have the same religious beliefs as your parents? My dad might also be atheist, but I’ve never known for sure. He once confided in me that he was atheist in college but “it changed” when he met my mom... but honestly we’ve always grunted the same way whenever my mom tells us it’s time to pray or if we have to watch our weekly mass livestream. So idk. I think he just acts Catholic to appease her, but yeah he’s definitely weird about it. which floor of your house/building are you on now? Second floor. It’s my first time to want to hang out in my bedroom in months because IT’S ACTUALLY RAINING and it’s cold enough in my room to wanna stay here. are there any maps hanging in your room? No maps here.

are you often a third wheel? or is someone a third wheel to you? Yep I third wheel pretty often. My girlfriend and I study in different schools and I have friends in my school who are couples, so if Gab isn’t visiting my campus for the day I just tag along with my couple friends. I don’t get bothered or feel insecure by it because I have my own relationship lolol what's the last dvd you bought? Holy shit...DVD? I don’t even remember anymore. It was most likely an Audrey Hepburn film, back in 2013 when I was really into her. That or Beyoncé’s Life Is But A Dream documentary, which was the last thing she ever released on DVD. Also came out in 2013. tell me about your favorite pair of jeans. High-waisted 90s-styled jeans. Nothing much to say other than they fit me well, I got a lot of compliments whenever I have them on, and they match any t-shirt I paired with, which made me like wearing t-shirts again haha. would you ride a motorcycle if given the chance? (or have you?) I would but only if someone super experienced was driving. I haven’t been on one because my parents don’t allow me to, and tbh I don’t mind the rule because I’m mostly scared of motorcycles anyway. is your hair healthy? No. Some hair salon I went to around ten years ago put some cheap products in my hair when I had it rebonded and it never felt 100% healthy again. Until today it gets very stiff when it gets into contact with water and only shampoo, and I always have to pair it with conditioner. if a hotel offered free breakfast in bed, what would you order? Eggs Benedict and some very creamy warm coffee. how often do you take a train? Never. I don’t trust the public transport here and I’m better off driving in my own car. what are your thoughts on reincarnation? (have you ever read up about it?) I don’t think of it at all because I don’t believe in it. I don’t mind others who are into it, just don’t shove it down my throat. what's your favorite led zeppelin song? I don’t have one. does your home have a balcony/deck/porch? Yeah we have a balcony. We used to have a full balcony, but we transformed 3/4 of it into my brother’s current room a few years ago because he was starting to grow up and he needed his own room. We retained 1/4 of the space so that it can be the place where my dog can still do his business. what does your closet/wardrobe say about you? It says I am a very messy person who can’t keep her closet consistently organized lol. It will also tell you I’m quite girly based on the clothes I own. do you enjoy theatre? I was never a fan. how would you feel about traveling abroad alone? If I was offered the chance to do it I certainly wouldn’t give it up, but I really, really, preferably would travel with at least one companion. Traveling is one of those experiences I’d want to share with someone, and I would hate if I had to go back to my hotel room at the end of the day with no one to talk to. who would you call a lyrical genius? Laura Jane Grace. how do you treat yourself? My go-to gift for myself is giving into my cravings hahaha. Nothing speaks more to me than food, and if I feel like I deserve a reward for a job well done, I’ll go to a slightly more expensive restaurant to celebrate. do you have an interesting passport? Idk, it’s a normal one and I never had it customized or anything. are you going to pursue a career according to what you enjoy? I hope I get to. I really enjoyed my PR internship and I’d love to be headed there. what happens to your old clothes? They go to the very back or the very bottom of my wardrobe for the most part. My mom will make us throw out clothes we don’t like anymore once a year, so that’s the time I get to get rid of them. what's your favorite frozen treat? Cornetto ice cream is one of my faaaaavorite comfort snacks. The end of the cone where they save chocolate chunks is the best part. who supports you financially? My parents. Getting increasingly guiltier about it by the day, too. if you wanted to go to the movie cinema, how would you get there? I would wait for the clock to strike midnight tonight, because in 48 minutes they’ll finally loosen lockdown rules AND I CAN FINALLY GO OUT. Hahaha. After that I’ll jump to my car, drive out of the village, take a u-turn, and I’m there. how many pillows are on your bed? Two big ones. would you pay more for organic food? Only if I had the money for it. Organic food is a thing of the (very) privileged here and is not very accessible to begin with, unless you’re in posher grocieries. have you ever had a crush on a sibling's friend or a friend's sibling? I haven’t. I’d find it weird considering they’re all a bit younger than me. do you have a friend who mooches? what to do about it? (or is it you?) She’s never done it with me but I’ve heard enough horror stories about her to know that she tends to do this, but yeah Mils is apparently quite the moocher. I’m soooo not one; I’d wait for my friends to offer to pay for stuff, but otherwise I’m fighting them over the bill lmao. do you know much about feng shui? (do you use it?) I’m not knowledgeable on it but I’m definitely familiar with it, because we have a rather large Filipino-Chinese community/culture in the country that glorifies feng shui during Chinese New Year season. I don’t really have a choice but have Chinese culture shoved down my throat whether it’s in the news, the media, or my Chinese friends. how would you make friends in a quiet class? I preferably wouldn’t because I’m only interested in getting good grades and getting that class over with hahaha. But if I was interested in making a friend or two, I’d typically scan the classroom and see who seems to be responsible? Like if they take notes as hard as I do. are you generally a quick learner? No. I take some time, and I especially take long if the thing being taught is more hands-on, like origami. I’ve just never been good at following certain tasks, and I prefer learning from reading instructions. what's your favorite spot to read? Skywalk or the dining table. has anyone given you a nickname you didn't like? (what was it?) Not that I can recall. I’m okay with all of them. did you know that buddha is not considered a god to buddhists? Yes. do you save tickets from movies, etc.? If it’s a significant enough date or event, sure. I’ve kept my 2018 Paramore gig ticket to this day, but like I’ve thrown out my ticket for Knives Out because I hated the movie lol. without looking him up, who was jim morrison? Vocalist for The Doors. when's the last time your bedroom was painted/wallpapered? Idk, 2006 or 2007 when the house was being made? It’s never been repainted. teach me something in another language. (not french/chinese/german/arabic) Why so language-ist lmaooooooo uh “Nakauwi ka na?” means “Did you get home? / Have you gotten home?” what type of body wash did you last use? Idk, I never read the labels on it actually. what type of music do you like and why? Right now I’m into lo-fi because it makes me feel relaxed, but I’m also starting to get into the recent trend where today’s artists put out songs that sound like they’re from the 80s, like Dua Lipa’s Physical or The Weeknd’s Blinding Lights - I think the genre is called synth pop/synthwave. They simply sound cool haha and they’re awesome to listen to while driving. if you randomly want to eat something in the house, do you eat it or wait? I check the time, like if we’re supposed to be having dinner soon, then act accordingly. who knows the most about you (besides yourself)? My girlfriend. do you have a nervous habit? (e.g. biting nails, tapping feet, smoking) Plucking eyebrow or eyelash hair, but that behavior is reserved for extreme cases where I’m incredibly and inconsolably anxious. On a milder day I would vape, sigh a lot, or bite my nails. how's your favorite pro sports team doing lately? I don’t watch sports with teams. would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? I don’t get into trouble but I’m not the best influence either.

#survey #surveys

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thdorkmagnet · 4 years

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Mother Knows Best (Star is Rapunzel AU)

A/N: Next up is Tangled!!

Summary: A series of one-shots and multi-chapters proving why Star Butterfly should be considered a Disney Princess, as Star and company take over the roles of all your favorite Disney Princess characters! (Starco inevitable)

Check out my other stuff on Fanfiction!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. Tangled belongs to Disney. All rights go to their respective owners.

This is the story of how I died.... oh wow, sorry, that was way more intense then I thought it was going to be. D-Don't stop reading! This is actually a really fun story, I swear!

Marrrrcoooo, hurry up!! Get to the part about me already!

Umm, right, sorry Star. Okay, let's see, where was I? *ahem* Once upon a time....

Ugh, boring! Do you want to put the readers to sleep? Start off by telling them something really cool, something that's gonna draw them in. Like a... a monster fight!

Hey, who's telling this story here?

Sorry.

Okay anyways, this is the story of a beautiful young princess with magic golden hair that had the power to heal the sick and wounded-

That's me!

Star, shhh! For years, she lived locked away in a tower, hidden deep in the woods, kept there by an evil and controlling woman, who wanted nothing more than to horde the girl's gift for herself.

Yeah, cause she's a meanie!!

That and so she could live forever.

And also cause she's a meanie.

And the name of this princess was Rapunzel... I mean, Starunzel! Ugh, I mean Star.

Geez, Marco. You really don't know what you're doing, do you?

No, I'm sorry.

Aw, that's okay. How about we just start by showing what happened the day we first met so we don't confuse the readers anymore than we already have.

Yeah okay, that sounds good.

Great!

Soooo, how do we do that exactly?

Simple. We use the mystic and magical page break.

Page wha-

…

Star was excited, practically racing through her chores that morning, cleaning every inch of the well-kept tower she called home. What would normally take her fifteen minutes to complete, today only took her a mere ten, which was quite the accomplishment for her dragging around seventy feet of long, blond, and sometimes unruly hair wherever she went. Though the downside of this was of course, that she now had the rest of the day to herself with literally nothing to do forcing her to find some other way to fight off the horrible enemy she was in almost constant battle with...boredom, but today she didn't really mind too much, her excitement over the special day helping to keep her mind occupied.

Once she was finished with the last of the cleaning, she looked around at the neat and tidy room in satisfaction, grinning with pride as every last inch of the tower seemed to be sparkling. “There, perfect, if I do say so myself,” she said boastfully, adding, “which I do.” She giggled at her own joke, while putting away her broom.

“Hey Janna!” she called to the ceiling of the tower, which was dark and not very well-lit. “Jan! Come on Janna, wake up,” she tried again, with still no reply. She frowned, before grabbing a strand of blond hair, flinging it out like some sort of lasso, where it wrapped around a lever that was normally just out of reach for her. She gave her hair a yank, pulling the lever down and opening up one of the windows above, lighting up the scaffolding of the tower, as well as the small purple bat currently snoozing up there.

Janna flinched as her small, fluffy body was encased in the hideous light, keeping her eyes glued shut, as she wrapping her wings tightly around herself to shield her from the intense beams, before going back to sleep. Star blinked, before groaning as her only friend ignored her, her cheeks puffing up cutely in anger. She wasted no time as she grabbed a bigger strand of hair and threw it up toward the beam the small bat was sleeping under. It flew over the beam before wrapping around the beam next to it, Star now able to use her hair as a rope as she climbed her own blond locks up to where Janna slept.

Once she was next to her animal friend, she gently poked her with her finger over and over again waiting for a reaction, a wide smile spread across her face. “Come on, sleepyhead,” she said softly, as she tried to gently awaken her bat friend.. “Wakey-wakey.”

Finally, Janna sighed, unfolding her wings and giving her a blank and tired stare, clearly wanting to know why she was being woken up so early in the morning. “Now don't give me that look, Janna,” Star defended herself, seeing the intent behind her friend's piercing green eyes. “It's not my fault you stayed up all night.” She crossed one arm across her chest, while the other still had to be dedicated to holding onto her hair to keep from falling, turning away from the bat with a pout, closing her eyes and refusing to look at her.

But after a few seconds, she slowly peeked open an eye and could see out of the corner of her eye that the look on the bat's face persisted, a small scowl on her fuzzy features. Star groaned in exasperation, before angrily stating, “Okay fine! I know you sleep during the day and everything, but c'mon, tomorrow is my birthday and I don't want to spend it all alone.” She gave the bat a pouting look, her lip quivering cutely knowing Janna couldn't resist the stare she had spent the last fourteen years perfecting.

Janna gave a small huff, rolling her green eyes before flying off of her perch and to the floor with a look of annoyance.

“Yay!” Star cheered, pumping a fist into the air, as she slid down her hair to the ground, excited her friend would be with her on the very big day. Once she was on the ground, she asked her friend, “So what should we do first?” She didn't even bother to wait for a reply as she began listing off potential activities to fill time in a nearly sing-song voice. “Playing guitar, knitting, cooking, puzzles, darts, baking, oh I guess that's probably the same as cooking, huh? Haha, umm, well we could also try some pottery or ventriloquy or candle making, I could try painting if I could find a spot that I haven't already painted on. Hmm? Oh, oh, oh, or we could re-re-reread those books I have, what do you think?”

Once she was done, Janna just gave her a one of her bored looks that said, 'I-don't-really-care'.

“Huh, you're right,” Star said thoughtfully. “We'll do them all!” she declared at the top of her lungs, pointing a finger in the air, dramatically.

Janna just sighed again, thinking it was way too early to be doing anything right now.

…

Meanwhile, in the nearby kingdom of Corona, the whole town was teeming with excitement and lively chatter on that lovely morning. Townsfolk were already going about their daily work with more vigor than usual and the streets were filled with the sound of children's laughter and general merriment. Everyone was in high spirit, the air itself practically electrified with jubilant energy, as all were happily anticipating the festival that would be the following day. Preparations had been underway for weeks, streamers and decorations hung up all over the busy streets, fluttering freely in the breeze and proudly showing off the beautiful logo of the kingdom: a purple flag with a bright, golden sun. This served as a constant reminder to the townsfolk of what was to come and the anticipation many were feeling was close to bursting at this point.

But one such individual was free of any feelings of merriment that plagued the rest of the kingdom, as he looked down on the people below with an impassive look. He was more focused on the work that had to be done to care about some silly festival and besides he would be long gone by that point.

He stood high on the roof of the large castle in the center of town, keeping a close eye on the guards that patrolled the perimeter, none the wiser to the teen's presence and he smiled to himself. Idiots. He took a moment from his precarious position to stretch, mentally and physically preparing himself for what was about to happen, letting out a calming breath. The boy had tanned skin and brown, spiked hairs (which he kept styled at all times) brown eyes and a mole just under his left cheek. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt with a red vest over on top of it and a brown belt hugging his mid-section firmly. The sleeves were rolled up to above his elbows on his shirt and a satchel hung loosely over his shoulder. He had on light brown pants, which were tucked into black, hunting boots.

A gentle breeze blew up against him, causing a shiver to crawl up his spine which he ignored. It was bound to happen being this high up. All he had to say was thank goodness he didn't have a fear of heights. Behind him, he heard a strangled squeak and he turned to see his two accomplices behind him, one tall and thin and the other short and fat. The thin one was tightly hugging his partner in a death grip, shaking as he looked at the ground below. “Do we have to be this high up?” the teen asked in a nasally voice.

“Can't be helped, Alfonso,” the boy in red shrugged. “This is the easiest way in. The higher up we are the less the guards look.”

“Marco's right, Al,” the third boy, Ferguson, agreed, pushing his friend off of him, causing him to shriek in fear and Marco cringed, glad they were too high up to be heard by the passing guards. “The last thing we need is to get caught stealing from royalty,” the chubby one added.

“Yeah and with that in mind we better hurry, just in case someone does happen to look up and see us,” the thief in red, Marco Diaz, said, before he recklessly jumped off the side of the roof, sliding down its tiled side and landing on the side of one of the towers with a barely audible thud. Ferguson followed quickly after, with an anxious and fear stricken Alfonso following hesitantly after, trying to ignore the long, fatal fall beneath him.

The three boys began making their way slowly and carefully around the side of the tower, leaping from tower to tower, Marco in the lead of his friends, jumping and maneuvering his way around expertly. This wasn't his first time stealing from another person, but his was the biggest and most satisfying job of his criminal career. If he pulled this job off right he would be set for life, even after splitting it three ways with his cohorts.

He did question bringing these two along, their skills as thieves not anything too impressive, but he couldn't pull this job off on his own and they were the only ones he trusted enough to help him, knowing anyone else would stab him in the back and take off with the goods in a heartbeat. He was the one who had gotten them into this life after all, asking them to tag along with him on jobs when he had been just getting his start as a thief. He could tell that they weren't too interested in it in the same way he was, going along with his schemes more out of obligation from being his friends than actual want to engage in criminal acts. Still, they never turned down any of his offers and this job was no different, so he was fine with cutting the share with his two long-time partners.

The three finally reached their desired destination, Alfonso at this point panting and shuddering all over with fear. Marco and Ferguson quickly opened a small hatch in the roof, revealing the throne room, where about a dozen guards stood around a small pedestal. On it lay the object the three thieves had been seeking, the lost princess's crown, lying preserved and safe on a soft, purple pillow. It was made of pure gold, intricately crafted with white diamond's embedded into its top, as well as several rubies that made up the bottom half of the priceless prize.

Marco took a moment to marvel at the beautiful crown, while his two companions began tying a long, thick rope down beside him. He released a slow, breathy sigh, still unable to look away from the golden headpiece. But he was quickly pulled back into the moment as he felt Ferguson and Alfonso now tying the other end of the rope around his waist. He lifted up his arms allowing them to do their job much easier and waited patiently for them to finish. The two took their time making sure that the rope would be secure but also cause no discomfort to their friend, tying it as tight as they dared without hurting him.

Once the rope was properly in place, Ferguson and Alfonso began lowering Marco down into the throne room, making sure to keep a firm and steady hold on the rope as the thief was inched closer and closer to his prize. Marco took slow, even breaths, trying to stay as quiet as possible, not wanting to alert any of the guards to his presence. The large chamber was so unnervingly silent that if a pin were to suddenly drop Marco was sure it would startle every guard in the room. He honestly wondered how someone could tolerate being in the room all day, every day, as their source of earning. It seemed awfully boring. And to the adventurous, thrill-seeking Marco that was like a fate worse than death.

The young thief quickly pushed aside his racing thoughts, focusing instead on the guards themselves, his highly trained eye on alert for any notable or abnormal movements from the bunch that would indicate that they had been discovered. But the guards around him were none the wiser to his presence, their backs to the young thief as their eyes alertly scanned only directly in front of them.

Finally, the boy in red came to a sudden and jerky stop, the pedestal and crown now only a few inches below him and easily within arms reach. He smiled to himself, but made sure to keep a weary eye on the guards as he quickly snatched up the crown, before tucking it safely away in his satchel. So far so good, he thought to himself, giving the rope a tug to let them know to pull him up. We might actually pull this off without a hitch.

But it seemed the boy had spoken (or rather 'thought') too soon, as he heard a small yell of none other than Alfonso, which sounded like a bombshell going off in the once deafening silence of the throne room, every guard jumping at the echoing noise. Before Marco could react, the boy felt the rope go slack and he was suddenly sent catapulting downward, as they boys above him, for whatever reason, lost their hold. Marco felt his stomach drop and he let out a small yell himself, as his body rushed toward the ground. He crashed into the pedestal on the way down, knocking to over, where it hit the floor with a loud bang.

Somehow, Marco was saved from the same happening to him, as Ferguson and Alfonso must have gotten a hold of the rope again, as he was yanked to a stop, his face near centimeters from the ground, the tips of his bangs touching the tiled floor. But all the commotion, of course, attracted a lot of attention, every guard swerving on their heels to see the young criminal suspended precariously from the rope, all of them in shock and disgust at the illegal action that was clearly taking place.

“Hey, stop thief!” one of them shouted angrily, as he and the others gritted their teeth and held out their spears, the sharp tips pointed directly at Marco.

“Pull me up!” Marco shouted above him in a panic, trying to somehow maneuver out of the way of the deadly weapons that now surrounded him on all sides. But the two thieves didn't have to be told twice as they began frantically pulling Marco back up, the dangling thief in just seconds out of the guards (and more importantly their spears) reach and he let a sigh of relief. The guards watched helpless as the intruder was hauled back onto the roof, their anger growing as they shouted up at him, while several ran to go get reinforcements.

Once Marco's was safely back on the roof with his two friends and his feet were once again planted on solid ground, he shot a glare at the two, demanding in a breathless and nerve-wracked tone, “What the heck was that?! Why'd you drop me, now the whole castle knows we're here?!” He began working on untying the thick and intricate knots, tugging relentlessly at the coarse rope in frustration.

“Sorry, Marco, something landed on my shoulder and it scared me,” Alfonso apologized sheepishly. “But it was totally a spider or something that was about to bite me,” he quickly added in his defense.

“It was a pigeon and no it wasn't,” Ferguson corrected, rolling his eyes at his friend.

Marco's eyes narrowed at the nasally teen. “So you just jeopardized one of the most important jobs of our career over a stupid bird,” Marco said irritably, the annoyance in his stony gaze unmistakable.

“Uh, apparently,” Alfonso muttered guiltily.

The boy in red face-palmed, letting out a infuriated growl as he dragged his hand slowly down his face. But he recovered quickly, as he said to the two in a much calmer tone, “Okay, then, time for 'Plan B'. We need to get out of here and fast. Let's go.”

He left no room for arguing as he began making his way down the castletop with no regard for his safety, more focused on getting away quickly than bothering to take things slow. He hopped from tower to tower and ran across perilous scaffolds without even looking to make sure his feet were in a good position to do so. Ferguson and Alfonso, to their credit, kept up with his quick and reckless pace, though the latter looked terrified the whole time, fighting off the panic attack that was slowly building up inside him.

Eventually the three were able to make it off of the castle, jumping from one of the balcony's onto the roof of one of the nearby houses, Alfonso stumbling slightly and looking paler than a ghost from the long drop. Marco wasted no time though, as he slid down the roof, landing on a nearby awning, doing a flip in the air, before tucking himself into a roll as he hit the stony sidewalk. Ferguson and Alfonso, on the other hand, carefully made their way over to the side of the building, dropping down onto the awning, before sliding down the poles using them to hold the thing up.

Marco rose to his feet, waiting until his companions were both down before leading them into a race through town, several guards already racing out of the gates of the castle and chasing after them, spears in hand. Marco dodged his way around the traffic on the streets, civilians screaming and frantically moving out of the way to avoid being knocked over, in total confusion and disarray over what was happening around them.

Soon the gates to the city were in sight, the bridge that would lead them into the forest and their freedom within reach. Marco smiled, before slowing his pace enough to allow Ferguson and Alfonso to run past him, knocking a cart of apples over, ignoring the shout of alarm from the seller, causing fruit to tumble into the road behind them. He hoped this would stall the guards long enough to give them enough time to escape.

He was rewarded with the sound of a scream and a crash behind him and the boy picked up his pace even more. As he and his companions ran out of the gates to town and across the long bridge, they all began laughing in victory, all quite overjoyed with their success.

“We did it, guys!” Marco shouted at the top of his lungs. He let out a loud chuckle, before adding, “Today is a very good day!”

…

“Today is a very good day, Janna!” Star stated to her bat friend, one musical montage and several dozen time-wasting activities later, still just as giddy and hyper as earlier. Nothing seemed to be able to deter Star's enthusiasm that day, not even the dreaded clutches of boredom, but unfortunately Star's peppiness was not shared as Janna just lay on the girl's shoulder looking utterly dissatisfied with life. But the young blond didn't notice this either, as she looked up at her newly constructed masterpiece with increased satisfaction. “I mean just look at that beautiful painting, I'm a true artist,” Star bragged proudly, puffing out her chest and striking a dramatic pose. “When mom sees this she'll be sure to let me go see the floating lights.”

Janna's gaze slowly shifted to the picture, not sure if she quite agreed. It was a terrible looking stick version of Star with goofily large eyes looking up at small white dots that Janna assumed were supposed to be the floating lights. And, because it was Star, she had also needlessly added in a lopsided skull and a smudged picture of a spider wearing a top hat floating in the air around her. All in all the pitiful excuse for art looked like it had been drawn by a four year old kid, not a soon to be fifteen year old teenager.

It was almost unbelievable that even after all these years living alone inside a tower with nothing but time to practice Star still hadn't gained even a speck of talent in painting whatsoever and the bat would have bet a fortune that the only thing Star's mother was sure to be when she saw it, was confused. Janna barely understood what she was looking at, there was no way her human friend's mother would know what it was supposed to be, as well.

“Well, what do you think?” Star asked, looking to her only friend in anticipation. This was when she finally took notice of her bat friend's clear difference of opinion, adding shamefacedly, “Uhh, sorry I didn't put you in the picture, too. But I kinda ran out of room.” The nocturnal mammal would have been offended she hadn't been added onto the picture (terrible as it was), if she actually cared. All she wanted was just to go back to sleep, unable to stop thinking of all the precious daylight that was being wasted. So Janna didn't say a word about how awful it looked and what a crime against true artists and art it was, instead she just shrugged and gave her a look that said, We-done-now?

Star sighed dramatically. “Fine, you can go back to napping,” Star said rolling her eyes, unable to believe Janna's lack of enthusiasm in all of this. How could she even consider napping on such a monumental occasion? Didn't she realize how amazing and life-changing this was?

But apparently she didn't, as the purple bat just flew up to the ceiling, hanging upside down from one of the pillars that was still in shadow, tucking her wings around her as she drifted off to sleep. Star tried to contain her disappointment as she muttered more to herself than Janna, “Mom will be back soon anyway. Don't want her to know I've been hiding a pet from her all these years.”

As if on cue, Star heard a call from outside the window, a familiar voice that the blond instantly knew had to be her mother's. “Star! Are you there, dear? Let down your hair, please?”

“Coming mom!” Star yelled, as she raced over to the window, opening the shutters, before looking down at her mother, waiting patiently below. Lady Eclipsa as she was known to be, had poofy teal hair and a flowing purple dress with small black dress shoes.

“Star, you know I don't like being kept waiting,” her mother called up in a warning tone. Star tried not to let this get to her as she hung her hair on a small hook that hung down from the top of the windowsill, before gathering up the rest and quickly flinging it over the side. Her long, blond locks fell gracefully down the entire length of the tower, nearly touching the ground when she was done. Eclipsa moved out of the way to avoid getting hit by the make-shift rope made of her daughter's own incredibly long hair.

Once in reach, Star's mother quickly grabbed the end of the blond locks that were now nearly glowing in the sunlight, and raising it up to be used it as a little foothold for herself. She stepped onto this, before waiting for her daughter to begin pulling her up. And Star wasted no time in doing this, heaving back on her hair and the heavy form that now weighed it down immensely. But Star had had plenty of practice at this and was able to slowly but surely began pulling Eclipsa up the side of the tower, with little to no problem whatsoever, her experience in pulling things up by her hair alone a much more accomplished skill than her artistic ability.

She grunted as she pulled the last bit of distance needed for her mother to step onto the window frame and then safely inside the tower. Star panted heavily as moved to hug her mother, saying in a tired but cheerful voice, “Welcome back, mom.”

Eclipsa though just handed her the basket she had brought back, before stepping past her, not even noticing her daughter's show of affection. “Excellent work, Star. Though I think you could have done that a bit faster, hmm?” her mother commented, as she began gazing at herself in the mirror, messing with her hair to make sure it was still the way she wanted it.

Star looked hurtfully down at the basket for a moment before setting it down on the nearest table, racing over to her mother, hopping up and down on the balls of her feet to try and contain her excitement. She quickly asked in a hinting tone, “So mom, do you know what tomorrow is?”

“I believe it's Saturday,” her mother replied flatly, still examining herself closely in the mirror. Star shook her head saying, “No, no that's not what I meant.”

But her mother once again wasn't really listening, her eyes widening as she spotted a gray hair hidden in with the mess of blue locks around it. “Star, dear, we can talk in a moment, first I would love it if you would sing for your mother,” Eclipsa said, turning to her daughter with a small smile.

“Oh right, of course,” Star said, quickly jumping at the task, rushing over to get everything ready, running and grabbing the chair and stepstool needed, setting them in front of each other. Eclipsa just watched all of this with a blank stare, following her daughter's movements as she sat herself down in the chair Star had brought her. The blond grabbed the hairbrush before running back over to her mom, handing her the brush and laying a thick portion of her hair on her lap, as she plopped down onto her own small seat.

She cleared her throat before singing as quickly as she could the song her mother had taught her. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine. Make the clock reverse bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fates design. Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine.”

As Star did this, her hair lit up golden, trailing all the way down the entire length of her mane. Eclipsa hummed along with the fast pace of the song, seemingly unaffected by how quickly her daughter was going, as she just ran the brush a few times through the glowing locks. The woman felt a deep powerful magic coursing through her veins, a wonderful feeling overcoming her as all at once all her ailments and aches were reversed and healed.

Once Star was done, she quickly jumped up from the chair, grabbing her mother's arm in a tight hug, as she quickly began talking a mile a minute, “So now that that's done, I was going to tell you that tomorrow is kind of a big day and since I know you won't be able to guess, I'm just gonna go ahead and tell you that's its my birthday!!”

She smiled widely at her mom as she finished, but her mother didn't seem to react much at all, as she merely said, “Really, so soon?”

“Well, it has been a whole year,” Star mumbled under her breath, to her it had felt like she had been waiting forever for this day to come.

“Star, you know what we talked about with the mumbling,” her mother scolded, giving her a look, and Star remembered immediately all the previous lectures she had been given about how it was undignified for a young lady to whisper things under her breath and not speak loudly and clearly enough to be heard.

“Sorry, mom,” Star hastily apologized, making sure her voice was now loud enough her mother could easily hear it.

“It's alright dear,” her mother said, giving her a small hug, before walking toward the kitchen and pawing through the bowl of fruit, looking for something to eat. “So is there anything you wanted for your birthday?” she casually mentioned.

Star sucked in a breath. This would be the hard part, convincing her mom, but she decided to just go for it. “Well, I was thinking,” Star said as casually and innocently as possible. “Since I'm turning fifteen tomorrow I thought that it would be a good idea... to maybe go outside.”

Star had a wide, awkward smile on her face as she waited for her mother's reaction. Eclipsa stilled, dropping the apple she had chosen back into the bowl, as she turned to her daughter in surprise. “What?” she asked, shocked.

“Not for forever, of course,” Star quickly added, seeing her mother's concern. She chuckled nervously saying, “I mean that would be... crazy. But just long enough for you to take me to go see the floating lights.”

Now Eclipsa looked even more startled, asking hesitantly, “Floating... lights?”

Star could tell her mom was starting to think she had gone insane so she quickly clarified, “Yeah, y'know the big glowing lights that fill the sky, every year, on my birthday.”

“You mean... the stars?” Eclipsa said slowly and Star let out a sharp, frustrated sigh.

“No, not the stars, mom. These are different. Here, let me show you,” Star quickly used a length of her hair to pull open a lever on the wall, opening a hatch which sent a flood of light cascading on her drawing, highlighting against the rest of the musty tower. “See,” Star said, pointing at the painting. “These things. The big bright things that always appear out of nowhere on my birthday.”

Eclipsa looked at the painting in silence for a few moments, her face completely unreadable. “I... see,” was all she managed to reply, trying to keep her face calm. She turned to her daughter asking, “And your sure you didn't just dream them? “No, I didn't,” Star said defensively. “Have you seriously never noticed them before?” When she received no reply she quickly waved this off. “Whatever, it doesn't matter. I see them every year, mom, and I just... really want to know what they are. I want to see them, up close, in person.”

“Why do you care so much about these stars, darling?” Eclipsa asked, sounding amused at her daughter's bizarre interest in something seemingly ordinary.

Star's cheeks puffed up some in anger. “First of all, they're not stars. And second of all, I don't know. I just feel like they're meant for me somehow, y'know.” Star shrugged not sure how quite to put it into words.

Eclipsa grew very quiet after that, watching her daughter closely as her eyes glazed over in thought. This was very bad. Very, very bad and she knew it. She had to do something. She couldn't let her flower discover the truth. She had to find some way to get her to stay. But how.

“Now, now, darling you know the rules about going outside,” she began, stepping closer to her daughter.

Star began to fiddle with a strand of her hair, nervously. “Yes, I know but, I thought maybe we could break the rules, just this once.” She gave her mom a sheepish smile, hoping that this would somehow convince her to let her go, though her optimism was beginning to fade.

And to Star's dismay, Eclipsa shook her head, before saying, “The rules exist for a reason, Star. To keep you safe. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?”

“Well no,” Star admitted, but quickly tried to argue, saying, “But I-”

“Exactly, dear, you don't know,” Eclipsa continued, as she walked over to her, placing her hands softly on her shoulders. “But I do. The world outside if full of dangers you couldn't even begin to imagine and you are just not ready to face them yet. You're too naive and the people out there would take advantage of that.”

Star looked sadly at her bare feet. “Not to mention what they would do if they discovered the power your hair holds,” Eclipsa continued softly, running a hand through Star's hair once.

The blond felt her heart thumping a bit out of control, fear filling her being. Her mother had told her stories of what had happened when she was just a baby. How everyone had wanted to cut her hair and have the power all for themselves, even trying to take her away from her mom and she shuddered at the thought.

Eclipsa pulled Star close in a comforting embrace, as she said worriedly, “I couldn't bare to see you get hurt. It would hurt me if that happened, you know that right?”

“Yes,” Star said sadly, feeling all the fight and hope drain from her, leaving her feeling empty.

“Then you are going to listen to your mother and stay put?” Eclipsa asked, waiting to hear the answer.

Star hesitated, but finally sighing saying again, “Yes.”

“That's my girl,” Eclipsa said, pulling out of the hug to cup her daughter's face in her hands. She gave her gentle kiss on the forehead. But as she pulled away, she saw the pitiful look on her daughter's face and added, “Trust me, Star. I always knows what's best for you.”

Star just gave her a half-hearted smile, as her mom gave her cheek a soft pat. “Well I must be going again,” Eclipsa said, as she quickly retrieved her basket and then climbed back up onto the window, before taking hold of the still hanging hair. She turned back to her daughter one last time before saying, “I will see you in a bit, my dear. I love you.”

With that, Eclipsa quickly began descending her daughter's hair. Star stood perfectly still, waiting until she couldn't feel the tug against her scalp anymore, letting her know her mother was now on the ground and probably heading out of the clearing and into the big, bright world Star was forbidden to see. Once she was sure her mother was out of ear shot, she loudly huffed, flopping herself down on the ground and crossing her arms in front of her, childishly.

She just fumed angrily to herself for a few moments, muttering comments about being trapped there forever, bored out of her mind, and calling her mom a poophead. Finally, Janna flew down and landed on her shoulder, giving her a look with her wide, brown eyes.

Star sighed, rubbing at her eyes as she agreed, “Yeah, that definitely could have gone better.”

…

“Hurry their gaining!” Marco shouted over to his two comrades, looking back to make sure they were still with him. To his relief, they were, Ferguson and Alfonso just barely managing to keep up, both panting immensely. But none of them had time to stop as, not a short distance away, the roar of approaching horses could be heard, growing louder by the second.

Marco did his best to evade their pursuers, going between trees that would be too narrow for horses to follow, jumping over fallen trunks, and sliding down steep inclines, but nothing seemed to work. Nothing seemed to be slowing any of them down any and Marco was quickly running out of ideas. If something didn't change soon, they would definitely be captured.

Suddenly, the three thieves all came to an abrupt stop as they reached a dead end. Marco looked up at the rocky cliff in front of them, quickly judging the distance, before turning back to Ferguson and Alfonso. “Okay quick, boost me up!”

The two shared a look with one another, looking unsure. “What?” Marco asked, seeing their hesitation.

“You sure you'll remember to pull us up when you're done?” Ferguson asked, in a half-accusing manner.

Marco looked hurt at the comment. “What? Of course I will. You two are my best friends.” The two still looked hesitant and Marco sighed, adding, “Look we don't have time to argue about this, the whole royal army is right on our tail.”

As if on cue, they heard a shout followed by the thundering roar of horses racing at full-speed toward them as it grew steadily louder. This finally seemed to convince the two thieves as they quickly formed a human ladder for Marco to climb up, the young man taking care not to step on their hands or faces as he scaled the cliff off of his friends.

Once Marco reached the top and had hauled himself over the ledge, he quickly checked his satchel, before giving a quick glance below, making sure no guards were there yet.

But he heard more guards riding up from around the clifftops and knew they had no time to waste. “Come on, guys! Let's get going!” he shouted before running away at full speed, forgetting the predicament he had left his two friends in.

The two just stared up at the cliff blankly for a moment. “D-Did he just leave us behind... again?” Ferguson asked.

“Yep,” Alfonso replied.

They both sighed dejectedly, as they waited to be arrested... again.

…

Marco continued at full sprint though the forest looking back occasionally to check and see if his pursuers were gone or not. Unfortunately for him, they weren't.

There were about four horeses following him, all carrying armed guards dressed in Mewni's traditional golden armor, the lead guard being none other than the captain herself, Kelly, her recognizable blue hair tied up in a bun, most of it covered by her helmet. “Great not her, that's just what I needed,” Marco muttered to himself, focusing on the impossible task of outrunning the riders on foot. “Does the universe just hate me or something?” he pondered to himself, as his eyes scanned the area around him, trying to think of a plan.

Finally, an idea came to him, as he grabbed onto a nearby vine, using the momentum to swing himself around the tree before kicking the unsuspecting Kelly off of her horse and instead taking her place. He situated himself better into the fancy saddle, checking back once to make sure the girl was okay. He breathed a mental sigh of relief as he saw she had landed in some bushes, her usually well-kept hair now coated in leaves and sticks, rubbing at her head and glaring daggers of death at him but not looking too injured. Once he knew she was fine, he allowed himself a small laugh of victory as he rode triumphantly away from his honest-working rival.

Kelly gritted her teeth as she watched helplessly as the thief rode away on her own horse and she stood up with a huff. After a few moments the other guards caught up to her, stopping to see if she was hurt, one of them worriedly asking, “Are you okay, Kelly?”

“That's Captain Kelly! And yes I'm fine, Tad,” she angrily snapped at her ex-boyfriend. “Just follow after that guy before he gets away!” The others all obeyed, returning to their chase as they hunted after their target, one of them stopping long enough to lift the girl captain up into the saddle behind him before galloping after the criminal, as well.

While that was going on, Marco was putting more and more distance between himself and his pursuers, confident he would easily allude them at this speed. He still took a few seconds to double-check and make sure he really was in the clear, though, listening to the now near-silent trotting of horse hooves, and smiled with satisfaction. Perfect. They were nowhere near him and at this rate he would be long gone before they had time to track him down. He was pretty much in the clear now.

The young thief allowed himself to relax a bit in his seat, loosening his tight grip on the reins. He absentmindedly patted the horse, saying, “Good job, girl. I think we lost them.”

The horse he was riding, who was names Pony Head (Kelly wasn't very clever with the names, her mind on more important things like hunting down criminals), hadn't been paying attention to the whole thing, finding all these stupid chases boring. She would much rather be hanging back at the castle with the other horses, maybe even flirting with a few of the better looking stallions there, not going on some annoying chase through the dumb woods looking for some turd.

But the second the boy spoke, the horse snapped to attention, the unfamiliar voice from her current rider setting off red flags in Pony's mind. What the heck?! Pony thought, as she turned her head to see some dumb boy sitting comfortably on her back, looking behind him rather than even paying attention to what was in front of him. Oh no! Pony thought in anger. No boy is gonna sit on by back!

She dug her hooves into the ground, bringing them to an abrupt halt and Marco, who had been distracted checking behind them to make sure they were free and clear, was nearly sent flying. The thief screamed, squeezing the reign's clenched in his hands with a death grip, somehow managing to stay on Pony Head, much to her anger and dismay.

“Hey what's the big idea?!” Marco screamed down to the horse, his heart still in his throat, causing him to pant harshly. When he got no reply from the animal, he repositioned himself back in the saddle, taking slow, steady breaths to try and calm his frazzled nerves. He did a quick look around for anything that might have spooked the mare. “Did you see a snake or something?”

Only the one on my back, Pony quipped back in her head.

The boy sighed, letting the scare go for now. “Never mind, let's get going,” he said, snapping her reigns to try and get her moving again. But to his surprise the horse didn't move an inch. “Uh, hello?” Marco said with slight annoyance, flicking the reigns again, a little harder this time. “Move.”

Still nothing. The boy was starting to lose his patience, the longer they lingered there the greater the chance the guards would catch up to them, Captain Kelly surely not giving up the chase so easily. This was exactly what Pony Head was thinking, as well, mentally smirking to herself at the idea of getting the annoying boy caught. Yeah keep yellin', turd. I ain't movin' a muscle.

“Come on fleebag, forward!” he yelled, kicking the stubborn horse in the side.

Oh he did not just call me that!! Pony mentally screamed, letting out a loud huff through her nostrils. The red thief heard this and opened his mouth to comment, but it quickly turned to a scream as the horse's hind legs bucked up over and over again, trying to knock the annoying pest off her back. It was a quite to see, as the horse aggressively kicked and stomped her way around the clearing, the poor young man holding onto her back for dear life as he was flung around like a rag doll, shouting out his complaints at the top of his lungs, “Whoa! Wait, stop!!” The thief felt his stomach churn in protest and he quickly exclaimed in a panic, “I think I'm gonna be sick!”

Oh you better not puke on me, you little turd, Pony angrily thought, before giving the hardest buck yet, this time finally managing to throw the boy off of her, Marco releasing a high pitched scream as he was sent flying through the air and right toward a cliff. Luckily for him, he was able to grab onto a tree branch, now suspended over the steep incline, hanging on for dear life as his feet dangled helplessly. Marco swallowed down the panicked lump in his throat and tried to ignore the fact that he was currently hanging over a hundred foot cliff, focusing instead of pulling himself up onto the branch. He just prayed it would support his weight. He managed to wrap his legs around the thick back, meaning he didn't have to worry about his arms giving out just yet, but he still understandably held onto the limb with a death grip.

Just as he was about to begin trying to get back on solid ground, he heard the familiar clip-clop of horse hooves, followed by shifting from the branch, alerting him that he was not alone on the limb. The young thief craned his neck to see the same stupid horse that had gotten him into this situation now try to walk onto the unstable branch. He gasped in horror, terrified that the clearly brain-dead mare was about to get them both killed, Marco not sure if the limb could support their combined weight.

He wondered what on earth could be causing the four-legged creature to act so recklessly. That was until he noticed the satchel handing on the far end of the tree, hanging precariously on one of the small limbs that had luckily stopped its descent. And do despite his fear, he began inching his way across the trunk, trying to move as fast as possible, ignoring his safety instincts screaming at him to stop. Pony, though, quickly caught on to what Marco was trying to do and began trying to step on Marco's hands with her hooves, also seeming to completely disregard the dangerous drop directly below them.

Marco, now with a new motivation to beat the stupid horse and keeps his hands from being crushed, took the risk and jumped toward the branch. He just barely managed to grab the satchel, as well as grip the branch it had been loosely hanging off of, the bag nearly slipping off from all the jerky movements and sent plummeting off the cliff. Marco let out a victorious yell, as he turned to the stupid horse with a smug grin, showing off his claimed prize. “Ha, take that you stupid-”

But Marco didn't get a chance to finish his insult, as suddenly there was a loud snapping sound, Marco and Pony Head both looking over to see the large crack in the trunk, which had been made weak by the two's overwhelming weight and constant abuse on the fragile limb. The didn't have any time to react as it gave altogether breaking free of its hold in the cliff side with another loud snap, now sent falling to the unforgiving earth below.

Marco screamed at the top of his lungs, giving out a very undignified yell, while beside him Pony neighed loudly in terror. He felt his body go weightless, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, as he continued to cling to the plummeting branch. A wave of nausea rose up, both from his unbridled terror and his well-known case of motion sickness, which was choosing to come back at the worst possible time. But suddenly his lifeline was gone, snapping in half when it bumped against the cliff side, sending Marco and Pony spiraling away from one another on their fast track to becoming acquainted with the ground.

Next, Marco reached the treetops, thick vines wrapping around his body and slowing his descent immensely. Finally, the vines went taunt stopping the young thief mere inches from hitting the hard ground. His body went limp, allowing the ropes to hold him there, swaying unevenly above the ground. Marco just stayed like that for a few moments, panting as the stress of the ordeal slowly wore off and his heart rate slowed to a more normal pulse.

Until finally he said in a remarkably calm voice, “Well that was scarring for life.”

The young thief managed to untangle himself from the thick, knotted vines and get himself settle back down on the soft ground, nearly tempted to get down on hands and knees and kiss it. He would have to, if it weren't for the fact that the ground would have been what would have ultimately caused his death and he really didn't want to go around praising his almost killer. So instead, he just put his satchel back over his shoulder and began walking deeper into the woods.

He wasn't sure where he was headed but literally anywhere was better than here at the moment, just in case that dumb horse had survived too and was now looking for him. Right on que, Marco heard an angry neigh in the distance, not that far away. Marco panicked, looking around for somewhere for somewhere to hide, slowly backing up toward a large hill covered in ivy. But as his back brushed against the vegetation, he found no resistance there, stumbling back and into the hidden entrance and cave within.

The red thief had no time to ponder this as he quickly hid behind a nearby rock, just as the distinct shadow of a horse appeared on the vegetated wall. Pony stopped, as if sensing his presence, looking around her, her ears twitching as they tried to pick up any sound from the boy. Marco pushed himself a little further behind the rock, making sure to make no noise whatsoever, holding his breath and trying to keep himself as still as possible.

For a few tense seconds, Marco watched the silhouette of the mare, unmoving and stock still. Then, at last, the annoying pony seemed to give up on the chase, trotting away from the area and allowing Marco to finally release his held breath. But he kept an eye on the entrance as he backed slowly into the cave, taking slow, cautious steps just in case she was still within hearing distance. Once he could no longer see the entrance, he allowed himself to drop his guard and turn.

The boy's mouth dropped open at the unexpected sight before him. Instead of a dingy, dirty cave like he had been suspecting he had found himself in some sort of secluded clearing, though it was hardly empty. For in the middle of the green and vibrant clearing was an abandoned tower, standing tall and majestic as the sunlight gleamed off of it. Its color was faded from years of neglect and thick, green vines clung around its base and crawled up its sides. But despite this, it still looked remarkable, seeming like it had just been ripped from the side of a castle before being dropped into the hidden clearing. That or it had been taken right out of a fairytale book, but that one was just silly, this was real life, not some fairytale... right? Behind it was a rushing waterfall, which also gleamed brightly in the sunshine, running into a gentle stream.

“Huh, a tower? How'd it end up here?” Marco wondered aloud. But he quickly dismissed his wonderment with a shrug. “Oh well, better not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

The young thief cringed at the phrase, before releasing a violent shudder as he was reminded of his brief encounter with that stupid horse. “Okay note to self, never use that phrase again,” he told himself.

“Still this is a good place to lay low for awhile,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the tower carefully, searching for any form of entrance along its crumbling exterior. “Now if I could just find a way inside...”

Marco's gaze froze on a small window near the top and luckily for him, it was open.

“Bingo!” the boy said with a satisfied smile. He made his way over to the tower, looking up its side, trying to plan out a way up. He pulled out two arrows using those to climb slowly up. He got into a stead rhythm, sticking an arrow in the wall with a loud thunk, before pulling out the next one and sticking it into the wall a bit higher than the last, careful to make sure his feet had a proper resting place as he did. Clop. Thunk. Clop. Thunk. The sound repeated itself over and over again, until at last Marco reached the window, grabbing onto its frame and lifting himself inside. He tucked the arrows into his satchel along with the crown, as he looked around the dark room.

It was impossible to tell what anything looked like inside until his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, but he didn't really care of the condition of his temporary hiding place at the moment. He was more interested in checking on his valued prize. He looked into the open satchel with a content grin, staring pleasingly at the golden crown shimmering inside.

So distracted, in fact, that he didn't see a small form making its way over to him in the darkness. He let out a satisfied sigh, saying softly to himself, “Looks like I'm finally out of danger.”

A loud bong sounded, echoing around the dark enclosure, as the young thief fell over unconscious, his body going limp as a heavy frying pan smacked him hard in the back of the head. Star, for a moment, just stood over the sleeping man on the floor in front of her, her eyes wide in shock of what she had just done. She continued to hold the frying pan up, ready to strike once again, just in case he did manage to remain conscious after the hit.

“Um, hello?” Star hesitantly called down to him. “A-Are you awake?”

She poked him a couple of times with the pan, but when he didn't react she relaxed some, letting her guard drop a little. Though she was anything but calm, as she began pacing around the room, saying to herself. “Okay so I just knocked out some guy and now he's unconscious in my living room. What do I do? What should I tell mom? No, I cannot tell mom about this. Then again,” Star stopped pacing, putting a finger to her chin as she looked thoughtfully over at the boy. “If she saw that I was capable of taking out this intruder then maybe she would see that I'm strong enough to be able to go outside! I'm a genius!”

Star patted herself on the back for the idea, a wide, hopeful grin on her face, as she approached the boy again. She looked down at him smugly, saying with a laugh, “Ha, thought you could just sneak in and try and steal my hair, didn't you? Well you are no match for my incredible talents, mister.”

Once, she finished bragging, she just grinned proudly down at the unconscious boy. But her smile vanished as she finally got a good look at the intruder. He was actually quite handsome, his soft brown locks laying across his face, which looked so peaceful and warm as he slept. She could see the slightest hint of toned muscles though his shirt, which caused a lump to form in her throat for some reason. And to top it all off, he had the absolute cutest mole on his left cheek.

For a moment, all Star could do was just stare, love-struck at the handsome boy laying on the floor in front of her, a blush beginning to light up her cheeks. That was until she felt a small tug on her hair and she jumped turning to see Janna flapping her wings behind her, a frown clearly discernible on her fuzzy features. “W-What?” Star said, quickly hiding her blushing cheeks from the bat. “I've just never seen another human before is all,” she said defensively.

Star didn't have to be looking at her bat friend to know that she was raising a skeptical eyebrow right now. “L-Let's just find a place to put this guy, before mom gets back,” Star said, trying way too hard to change the subject.

She scanned the room in search of a good hiding spot, finally landing on the large closest. “Ah ha! Perfect!” She looked to Janna for agreement, but the bat was still just giving her a skeptical look, not convinced the boy could fit in there. Star frowned, before demanding, “Just help me get him in there.”

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Star is a Disney Princess #Starco #Star is Rapunzel

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talesofafangirlwithadvr · 5 years

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JUNE PICKS

I know, I know it’s currently July 13th and I’m only posting my June picks now. In my defense summer is going FAR too fast and I didn’t want to encounter spoilers for Stranger Things so i was avoiding a lot of social media. So without further a do here come my picks.

Always be prepared for spoilers. Tread lightly.

LEGENDS OF TOMORROW

Best.season.so.far... As a MAJOR fan of all things Arrowverse, recently I have found myself losing interest in the Berlanti CW/DC shows. Some of the plots feel overdone (we’ve done it on one show and now it’s appearing on another), or characters are losing who they once were. The only show in this multiverse that I’m caught up on is Legends of Tomorrow. Thanks to Netflix I was able to binge it all at once (which I found really helps watching this show. You just want to watch episode after episode because you NEED to know where we’re headed next). I think Legends is really underrated as a whole, which is wrong. It deserves more love compared to Arrow and The Flash. I believe it is the strongest of the superhero shows on the network. That was proven with this great season (I’d call it the best and I can’t wait to watch season 5). I really enjoyed this team of heroes aboard the Waverider. We��ve seen much change from last season and only 3 remain from the original team that Rip created. (Which is SO crazy!) At first I was worried about Charlie because I didn’t want her to just be a recasting of Amaya, but I loved her addition. She brought another style to the Waverider and having her as a “monster” was perfect for this season that involved bringing awareness to these creatures. Plus her power came in handy a lot of the time. I’m always a fan of Constantine so it was great to see him as a permanent fixture of the Legends (even if he claimed he didn’t want to be :). After speaking with him at HVFF in Edison, New Jersey this June I am excited to see his character return as a regular for season 5. I also enjoyed Nora Darhk. When we first met her last season we we’re supposed to like her, but since she’s no longer possessed and wanting to change her ways we see a different side of her now. A side that Ray sees (still think it’s super adorable that off screen husband and wife are love interests on the show). I was a big fan of her involvement this season. Speaking of Ray, what a journey he went on. Props to Brandon Routh for his acting this season. Very out of his regular character, which often is the most fun to watch. I loved the Time Bureau getting more involved in the plot. We got to see more of their headquarters and how they function while the Legends do their thing throughout space and time. I hope that continues, especially so we don’t lose seeing characters like Ava and Mona (oh and of course Gary-oops!) MAJOR SPOILER ALERT!!!! That ending!!!! Please don’t tell us Zari is off the team for good. I mean I’m sure her brother is nice and all, but we need her! After speaking with Tala, also at HVFF, she said we’ll be getting a much different Zari this season. Which makes complete sense seeing as how her backstory has drastically changed.

Man, I guess I could have dedicated an entire post just to Legends of Tomorrow. Just shows you it is a great show that you should be watching.

Now I can’t stop singing James Taylor’s “Sweet Baby James”

Good Omens

This Amazon Prime Video original was my first watch of the month. I didn’t binge it all at once (mainly because I don’t like investing ALL of my time into watching something that’s only a handful of episodes and then feeling completely lost when it’s over...Wow that opened something I didn’t know was there....) While that’s one of the reasons I didn’t watch all episodes in one sitting the other is that I couldn’t really get into it. People have told me great things about the book, but I haven’t read it and I didn’t know a whole lot (other than what I’ve seen from the trailer) before watching. It’s hard for me to explain why I didn’t enjoy it or get into it. I don’t know if it was the large amount of characters to follow or the style of episodes or just the overall style of the show. I enjoyed the voice over narration and I thought the dynamic between Aziraphale and Crowley was great (always a fan of David Tennant). I liked the reinventing of the final battle and how these forces currently exist on Earth. I think my favorite episodes were the last two as the battle occurred and how Adam was a part of it all.

Have you watched Good Omens? Did you like it?

Jack Whitehall’s Travels with my Father

After watching Good Omens I was looking for a quick watch before jumping into Daredevil (which I know is also a quick watch). Seeing Jack Whitehall in Good Omens reminded me of a Netflix show I had saved in my queue a while ago. The British Comedian Jack Whitehall decides to go on a gap year in his late twenties and bring along his seventy year old father. Like everyone does! I’ve read a lot of things, while I watched, about how the show is scripted and while it is at times very obvious I still liked watching their banter. His dad had some great lines as Jack brought him to some eccentric spots. It was also nice to see their relationship progress as the episodes went on. As someone who wasn’t thinking of traveling to Asia I really liked being able to see some of the places and attractions in different countries that might not be as publicized. I have the second season saved in my queue where Jack’s dad will bring Jack to what he considers a vacation. This time traveling around Europe. I think it should be good, but right now I have other things to watch before.

Blood & Treasure

CBS’ new summer show has already been picked up for a second season and the first season hasn’t even finished yet! If that’s not a reason for you to check this out then read this review. :)

This action adventure show follows Danny, an ex FBI agent, and Lexi, an art thief, as they travel the globe in search for Cleopatra’s tomb and other Egyptian antiquities before they get in the hands of a terrorist. Each week feels like you have entered a movie as you join this team race against the clock to retrieve these artifacts. Because of this there are times where I feel like the show might work better as a movie or a mini-series/3 longer episodes. By this point I feel like there are times where the plot gets a little extended and parts might not need to happen (but do because of the length of episodes). That being said I am still enjoying this show and am excited to see how the season eventually ends. Now that I know there will be a second season it will be interesting to see what they pursue next. If you like movies like Indiana Jones and National Treasure as well as the TNT show The Librarians, then this show is one for you!

PBS Les Miserables

I am way behind on reviewing this program that debuted on PBS’ Masterpiece in the Spring, but with one episode left I am very excited to talk about this new adaptation of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. This six episode show directed by Andrew Davies brings Hugo’s characters to life without music. Being a fan of the musical, I was a little worried about how the show would be without this element. While there are times where I would like a song that is traditional sung by one of the leads to be played in the background (and I think it would have put the scene over the top) I have really enjoyed watching. Due to the length of the series we have really been able to get to know these characters and watch their transformations. I have always been daunted by the size of the novel, so I have not had the chance to read it, but being familiar with Davies’ work in the past (the iconic Pride and Prejudice 1995) I have a feeling this program is very accurate to the original text. My favorite character is still Jean Valjean (despite the slight plot wholes at how he has so much money despite escaping jail so many times). I think my favorite parts have been the earlier episodes when Cosette is young. I understand she wants to see the word as she gets older, but sometimes she bothers me. Currently I am at the barricade with them. One more episode to go. I know how it will end, but I’m probably still not mentally prepared.

Master Chef Junior

This season I have watched a good amount of reality shows (in the sense of game shows/competition shows/and yes Bachelorette). Some seasons when you watch I feel that you connect better to the contestants. You root for them and are devastated when they lose or get out. You call them by name as if you know them. I often feel this way with Fox’s Master Chef Junior, but this season especially I was invested in this show. They were a great group of young home cooks.

While their cooking skills ALWAYS put mine to shame and half the time I don’t know what they’re talking about and just smile and nod, I always find myself watching cooking competitions that involve kids. It’s just so impressive all that they can do at their age. I always love how they talk about cooking for so long meanwhile how much cooking could you do at 2 years old? (Or was it just my parents that wouldn’t allow me to use a stove??) This season they had multiple non-elimination rounds showing just how good these kids were. While my favorite, Reid, did not make the finals (he was soooo close) I will forever think of him when people talk about fishing. “The best part about fishing is fishing.”

The Amazing Race

I’ve been a fan of the Amazing Race for a very long of time, but cannot believe that this past season was their 19th SEASON! In the past I’ve heard of the show possibly not returning for another season, but I’m so happy that was not the case. There really is still not too much out there like it. This season the teams (ironically) came from all reality shows ranging from Big Brother, Survivor, and (of course) The Amazing Race. There were so many familiar faces that it was like we were visiting old friends. (I’m still super happy that the top 3 were all Race teams). This season was another example of getting too invested in the show. It often caused a lot of anxiety and being told to ‘fast forward to the end’ to know who got out. (Which I usually refused to do). Next season will be very hard to beat!

BINGEING

The Walking Dead

I mentioned that the Walking Dead was on my to watch list and I have decided to make it my Summer Show of 2019. Season 1 went by extremely fast (it was only 6 episodes) and now I’m in the middle of season 2. (I think I just hit episode 10?) Shane is getting crazier and crazier by the day. Sofia was discovered. I knew she’d be a zombie, but wow I was not expecting where we’d find her. Dale has quickly become one of my favorites and I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. I love how he knows what’s truly going on. Glenn is still my favorite and I’m excited to see his relationship with Maggie progress. Carl got his signature look wearing Rick’s hat. I think Hershel might let them stay on the farm. This show is just so addicting. I can never just watch one. I know I’m in for a roller coaster and just like when I watched Game of Thrones, the spoilers are out there (because I’m watching it so late) and I do know some, but not all. Can’t wait to continue. Are you a fan?

So, that’s it! That’s the June Wrap Up. Are we watching any of the same things? Are there any shows that seem interesting? Anything I should add to my watch list? Let me know!

July Watch Preview

Just finished it last night. (You now see why I had that rant earlier about finishing a show and not knowing what to do with my life.) Wow! I am probably not going to be able to wait to post an article till July. Keep your eyes open for a new post soon!!

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djmayday · 5 years

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S.p’s Shocking Tale!

(look man, i had too, the pun was waiting for me asdfg)

Words: 4258-ish hh-

ok, for once, i had genuine fun writing something, its not my best, but its good practice asdfghgfddfgh

also fair warning, its not horribly graphic but like,,, action scene (a single one asdfgh) that mentions some weird/bloody, idk lol, i need to practice more asdf

enjoy?

It was nice day.

S.p was soaring through the spring air, her wings spread out wide and her hair flowing in the breeze as she flew over the city. Today was a good day she thought.

In between the big jobs Timara gives her, S.p helps out her aunt’s package delivery service. Right now she’s got only two to do for today, but it was far out away from where she’s used to.

‘Uuughhhh, this is gonna take forrreverrrr,’ S.p groaned to herself, she looked back down on the label on the smaller box, hoping that maybe it magically moved where she needed to be closer. Nope, instead all she saw was the dark iridescent boxes shine in the sun, the name of the business in light pink/purple cursive and a M.p signature near it.

The label read ‘Madame Pink’s Delivery service.’ S.p couldn’t help but smile a little as she remembered who she was helping. It was short lived though as she realized she wasn’t flying over buildings anymore, just a field. She quickly stopped and did a double take. Then took out a little compasses on a string out of her pocket and got a good look at it.

“No, I’m still going north,” She mumbled, taking another glance around before shoving the compass in her pocket. She quickly took off her necklace that was tucked into her shirt, it had a rather large pearl looking piece on it. Holding it out by that pearl, it glowed purple for a moment, before creating a holograph revealing someone with their back turned.

“Uh, hi auntie,” S.p said, the figure gasped and turned around.

It was the mysterious Madame Pink. She held her fan so it covered most of her face, except for the eyes.

“Why, my little angel!” Madame joyfully exclaimed, “Have you already delivered those packages? That was rather fast,”

“Uh, noo,” S.p admitted, looking a little flustered, “I think I’m like, very lost,”

Madame’s eyes widened a little,“Oh my, that's quite the predicament-,” She closed her third eye for a moment, then continued, “Pray tell, can you describe to me where you are?”

S.p looked around again, “Uhhhhh, not a place with buildings,” S.p stopped when she heard her aunt giggle,” Hey, what’s funny?!”

“Oh do you not remember? You’re on the path to the edge of the mountains, it’s the right way my dear,”

S.p blinked, “Oh-” then her face scrunched a little in annoyance, “Oh, the mountains? But that’s like, soooo farr aunite!!”

“Now now child,” She said as she tapped her forehead, “I know you have ways to get there faster than anyone else I know, you’ll be fine, just be sure to protect the boxes when you do it,”

S.p’s ear drooped a little and she sighed, “Ok…”

“Excellent, now if you excuse me, I have to be on somewhere, as you do as well,”

S.p perked up, “Okie, bye auntie! Love you!” She said with a big grin while holding up a peace sign.

“Take care, my little star, ta-ta~!” Madame said as she waved, the holograph faded, and so did the glow on the pearl, ending the call. S.p put the necklace back on, tucking the pearl back in her shirt.

‘Alright, a faster way, huh?’ S.p thought as she looked back down at the packages, they both went to the same place, but to different people, ‘Guess that means it’s time to break another record for fastest travel eva!’ She said as her hands glowed a soft yellow, which passed over to the boxes, covering them in a magical coating before fading, making the boxes look normal again. She flew down to the ground, and got into a flight-ready stance.

Focusing all of her thoughts on what she wanted to do next, she started to be filled with energy. Little flicks of lightning shot off of her as she stored more energy, her hair floofing up a little as well. Then…

BOOM!

A huge explosion of energy sent her flying up into the air as a lightning bolt. Her wings straight out, letting her glide through the air. The world rushed past her in a colorful blur of greens, yellows, and the occasional blue. S.p made a mental note to get a gopro with her pay after the trip for when she flies.

‘Or maybe just beg Molly for it…’ S.p thought to herself.

Despite her speed, she could still faintly see the plains below, and there’s no building in sight, not even a road. Just… grass. There wasn’t even any trees.

‘Who even moves out this far?’ S.p thinks.

After a long while of flying, she eventually felt her energy falter, and she begins to slow down, she had to start flapping her wings again to keep from crashing, which isn’t an easy transition.

“Yipe! This never lasts long enough!” She exclaims, she held the gifts closer to her chest, making sure she didn’t drop them. Soon enough she got back into balance, and could glide a bit more, but it wasn’t nearly as fast.

“I gotta ask T how to make that last longer,” She mutters.

Luckily for her, she could see a dirt road below. S.p looked forward and finally saw a humongous mountain that stretched and faded into the clouds. And at the bottom was two dark blobs.

“Finally freakin build...ings,” S.p slowed down to a halt and squinted. When in focus, one blob as definitely a building, a bit creepy but it had a roof and all. The other though… well… S.p’s eyes couldn’t focus on it for some reason, and everytime she could get a clear glance at it, it was... something else, something just as menacing thing as the last.

“Welp, not that one, I ain’t that dumb,” S.p says as she flies to the other building. Which wasn’t that better than the blob, if she was being honest. The building was worn down, as if it hadn’t been used in years; Nature was reclaiming it with vines everywhere.

She lands in front of two big metal doors, both rusted to hell and back. With a nervous gulp, S.p knocks on one of the doors with a nice loud thunk. The doors partially opened when she did. S.p stood there for a few moments wondering if she should pull a ‘person in a horror movie’ move and go in.

S.p thought for a second, ‘Auntie would kill me if I came back full handed-’ She sighs, ’- and I can't just waste that stupid long trip,’ she thinks as she pushes the doors open and steps inside. On the inside, it looked ransacked and barren; Boxes were emptied, barrels pushed over, etc.

Making sure not to stand far away from the door, S.p calls out, "Uhh, hello?"

No answer.

"Helloooo?" S.p calls out again, walking deeper into the warehouse. Something wasn't right, it seemed a lot smaller on the inside.

She stood in what she thought was the middle of the warehouse, when she heard a crash behind her, making her jump and her wings spread out instinctively.

It was the doors.

They slammed shut.

Breathing heavily, she looked all around her, trying to find what or who shut the doors.

Nothing. This place was empty.

Was.

Cause the next thing S.p heard was a gun cock.

"Freeze!" Yelled the stranger.

S.p froze, and slowly turned around to see the person. It was a young man in a basketball tank top, with blond hair that faded to dark brown, he also had raccoon ears that were also blond. He had two different colored eyes. To S.p his left eye was red, and his right eye green. He also had bandages wrapped all around his arms down to his hands boxing style.

There was a moment of silence between the two, both of them were scared, you could see it on their faces, but neither were backing out.

“Who the heck are you??” S.p finally said, slightly cringing at how loud she was. To be fair, she couldn’t quite hear herself over her thudding heartbeat.

The boy looked confused and lowered his gun slightly, “Who the heck are you?”

“Um, I asked first?”

The man sighed and his ears went back in annoyance, “...Toby,” He raised the gun again, “Now it’s your turn,”

“M-my name’s S.p!” She exclaimed, forcing back as much stuttering as she could.

Toby put his gun down and into his holster, “The hell are you doing out here?”

“I could ask the same to you, but I’m just a delivery person!” S.p exclaimed, sounding more enthusiastic than she felt.

“Well, I’m here on a search for a friend that went missing,” Toby said, looking around as he talked, “You didn’t happen to see to douche-y lookin’ dude around, have you?” Toby asked sarcastically.

S.p shrugged, “Just you so far,”

“Fuck you,”

“Hey! That wasn’t an insult!” S.p said, finally calming down a bit, she thought for a moment, “Hey, maybe we can help each other,”

Toby’s ears perk up and he tilts his head, “How so?”

“Well, we’re both looking for someone, and I have a feeling that they’re both in the same place,”

Toby hesitates, “I- well… Fine, it’d be better than searchin’ this hell hole alone, I guess,”

S.p grinned, “Cool cool! Let’s get movin’ then-” There was a small crash, making both of them flinch horribly. Toby got his gun back out, which was still cocked. S.p listened very carefully for what made the noise

There was nothing but silence.

Toby ears twitched and moved, also trying to find any sign of something weird.

Soon enough they heard another quiet bang.

“That way,” Toby whispered, as he walked in the direction of the noise, S.p following close behind, clutching the boxes close so they wouldn’t make a lot of noise.

The two found themselves at the back wall of that room, carefully approaching a door that was slightly open. Toby hesitated, but reached out for the door handle.

A crunch made him stop.

S.p had stepped on something, slightly panic-y she lifted up her foot to see what it was, it was just bag. The both of them sighed in relief. S.p quickly picked up the bag and put the boxes in it, ‘It’ll be quieter, and safer for the boxes!’ she thought to herself.

Toby rolled his eyes, before opening the door slightly and looked inside, “No one’s in there,” He whispered, before motioning for S.p to follow as he went in.

Both of them couldn’t help it but stand still for a moment, surveying the room.

It was a long hallway at a slight angle going down. It was looked as if someone had looted it; Bookshelves looked like they were thrown, paper, bags, and all sorts of stuff scattered on the floor, and there was a random stove flipped over and scratches all around it, yet nothing seemed missing. The chaos of the hallway went until it was too dark to see tdown the hallway.

Once they got a good look, they continued onward.

“It’s like someone was looking for something,” S.p whispered.

Toby’s ear twitched, “They still might be,” he said as he pushed a button that was on top of his gun, it turned on a flashlight that was built into it, it gave off pretty decent light.

But it revealed that there were smears of bright color on the walls, that and a ton of scratches. S.p gulped and wishfully assumed it was paint.

The farther they walked the more narrow the hallway got, and the more empty it was too, except for the constant scratches and color. It couldn’t even be called a hallway anymore.

“What… is this?” Toby said, “Why would a warehouse have this?”

“It’s a hide-away tunnel,” S.p said as she got nervous, she recognized this sorta thing from her mom, and things involving her didn’t always end well. The familiar concrete walls made her breath catch in her throat.

“How do you know?”

“I-... just do,” S.p said, doing a little fake shrug.

Not really satisfied with the answer, Toby looked back forward. S.p could feel the tension in the air, neither of them really trusted each other, but Toby seemed a lot worse.

So why not break the ice a little?

“What’s your friend like? Apart from being a douche,” S.p asks.

Toby thought for a moment, his ear twitching, “He… was very full of himself, although I’ve always thought of that as a better than when he lacked self esteem,”

“Call that ‘growth’ where I’m at,” S.p said light heartly.

Toby had a sliver of a smile on his face, that is until he stepped into a pile of something, with a unsatisfying ‘glorp!’, “Ugh! Gross!” He cursed as he quickly stepped out of it, “The fuck is this??”

S.p looked at the pile, it wasn’t shit, it was the same rainbow stuff they had seen on the walls, “It kinda looks like, puke almost…” She mumbles to herself.

He grunts before pointing ahead at more puddles/piles, “Lookat this, there’s tons of it! What sick freak pukes rainbow till their lungs go out??”

“W-whatever lives there, probably,” S.p whispered in horror. The two of them reached the end of the tunnel, it led to a large, empty room. They stood at the entrance in awe, it was massive!

Slowly, Toby put himself in a battle ready stance and walked into the room, S.p reluctantly following behind. Their steps echoed off the walls, if there even was any, the room was pitch black, except for Toby’s light, which basically only revealed more puddles of colors on the floor.

Breathing began to get harder for S.p, her heart was racing so hard that if you listened close enough, you could hear it clear as day.

They heard a slither behind them, Toby pointed his gun in that direction, but saw nothing.

“What are you doing here?” A voice called out, it sounded cold and unwelcoming, it’s voice boomed and echoed off the walls.

Another slither went behind them, they stood back to back to each other this time.Toby was aiming his gun at basically everything and S.p was scared stiff.

“Have you come to take my prey?” It called out again, in a more mocking tone. Now the slither sounded like it was rounding them.

“Show yourself!” Toby yells out. His, light caught the end of something.

A tail?

Not just any tail, a snake tail.

S,p was already shaking horribly, but even Toby started to buckle under the stress. They felt a presence loom over them in the dark.

With shaking hands, Toby followed the tail up, and soon met a menacing face, glaring down the two.

S.p couldn’t help but gasp and hide behind Toby, making the figure laugh.

“My my~ What are two children doing here?” They asked, leaning down to get a better look at them. Their face was half human, half reptile, with scales decorating their face. Their eyes looked just wrong enough to send chills down Toby’s spine.

“You know, it’s rude to enter my home without permission,” They continued, getting closer. Now their eyes were in the light, which reflected off their pupils in dozens of colors. You could see color dripping from their mouth onto their chin.

“In fact,” Their tail shuffled, revealing that the part of the tail that was still hidden in the dark was holding two people who were tied up, “I was in the middle of something~”

Toby looked at one of the people and gasped, “Jake!” He looked back up at the creature while it laughed, “Give. Him. Back.” He growled.

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” They said as their laugh became maniacal.

Suddenly they slammed the people hard into the two, sending all four of them flying. Toby’s gun went flying too, leaving them all in the dark.

As quickly as she landed, S.p got up panting, “T-Toby?!?!” She called out breathlessly.

Slithers and echos of laughs from all around made her head spin. In a panic, she focused her energy into her right hand, and shot a lightning bolt into the dark. It lit up the room for a moment, and it was enough to see Toby’s gun.

Instinctively, she started to dash for it. Just as she grabbed it she was pulled back by her feet, making her chin collide and drag on the floor. Then she was held up in the air, the creature’s tail wrapping itself around her and letting the blood drip onto her face, she couldn’t even shoot the gun if she wanted to. They laughed as she struggled.

She couldn’t breathe.

She was panicking.

Then, animal instinct took over.

Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.

That’s all her brain told her.

She sank her teeth as best she could into their tail. And refused to let go, even after they had basically dropped her.

Then she held onto their tail with all her might and released all that energy and electricity with a powerful scream. You could see their shadows on the walls from the light it emitted. The creature screamed in pain and convulsed, which knocked S.p off and onto the floor. Practically knocked out from the drain

The creature twitched and convulsed still, struggling to catch its breath. When they heard the footsteps of the others, they growled and skittered away.

In the corner of S.p’s eye, she could’ve sworn she had saw natural light, but at this point the world was spinning, so she couldn’t really be sure.

Toby came running up to her first yelling, “Fuckin’ hell, dude! Are you alright?!” S.p only whimpered in response, before passing out completely, “Shit!” Toby exclaimed, “Hey, Jake, other dude! Help me out here!”

Running up came two dudes; Jake, a young man who looked about Toby’s age, he always wore his signature red hat, even in dark times like this. The other without a name was a rather old fella, in a now ruined cleaning suit, he had a badge on him that said ‘Finoe’ on it, so that must be his name

Jake quickly got to work, helping Toby carry her on their shoulders, they struggled, though, carrying someone knocked out is harder than you think.

The other dude ‘Finoe’ was clearly in shock; shaking knees and wide eyes, but he spoke up in a whisper, “Do you… know her?”

Jake looked over at Toby and tilted his head, Toby sighs, “Not really,”

“Then who the heck is she?” Jake asks.

“A delivery person, and your hero,” Toby stated blankly, “In fact I saw the bag right about there,” He says as he points his flashlight-gun at the ground, showing the two boxes in perfect condition.

Finoe quickly ran over to it and scooped the boxes up carefully, “This… This is what that thing was after,”

“Well what is it?”

“It’s... A form of magic dust, that thing made order some for it,”

Jake blinked, “Oooooh, that’s the stuff that powers your gun, right B?” Toby simply nodded, then Jake continued, “But why would it need it so bad it made you order it?”

Finoe visibly shivered, “It has drug like properties when consumed, it’s why you can only order one at a time, I had to use two names,” He sighs, “I’ve never wanted anything to do with this damn powder in my life-”

“Well,” Jake interrupted, “Like I said, we use that stuff for our own things, it’s our job, we could take it off your hands!”

Finoe thought for a moment, “When we leave, I’ll give it to ya,”

And with that, they off up the tunnel, to safety.

…

S.p woke up to soft sunlight and back pain, as soon as she tried to get up, someone pushed on her forehead gently and kept her down.

“You’re hurt, stay down,” S.p quickly realized who it was, it was Toby! A wave of relief washed over her, and she calmed down a little, that is until Jake popped up right by her.

“Hey, you’re not dead!” Jake exclaimed, making S.p flinch, “Hey so ummmm, the dude over there - His names’ Finoe- he’s cools, said that he knew someone who’d come pick us up and help us, so he had to borrow your necklace thingy, sowwy,”

“Normally I’d say if someone said that, it’s a scam, but he’s proven himself, I guess,” Toby added on. S.p couldn’t help but giggle at that, Toby seems so much different when he’s not serious. S.p eyes trailed to the floor though, and saw that Toby’s leg was wrapped up too, she also noticed he had a raccoon tail that was blond with dark brown rings, dang, how’d she miss that?

She went to speak but her throat was practically killing her, she had to hold it as she spoke, and the only thing she could really get out was a simple, “Wha-?”

Jake shook his head, “Yea no, I don’t think you’ll be talkin’ for a while, you screamed SUPER loud when you were shockin’ the fuck outta that snake beast thing-” he got super close to her face, “By the way- that was epic, how the hell did ya do that??”

“She’s just got the witch’s blessin’,” Finoe said, walking over to the group, “Anyone in that family is bound to have some strange power,” He holds out S.p’s necklace, “Here, I had to borrow it to make a call,” S.p nods and puts the necklace back on, tucking it into her shirt once again.

Then there was awkward silence between the four of them.

“So, Finoe, what exactly is this place?” Toby finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm? Oh! This was my lil personal research area, that place next door was what I was observin’,” Finoe said happily, “Also, there’s no need for formalities, call me Fin,”

“Wait, the area next door? That...blob?” Jake asks and tilts his head.

“Exactly! It’s an anomaly, and Ms. Timara asked me to observe, at a safe distance of course,”

“Heh, overshare much? How do you know we’re not some enemy to her?” Jake snarks, Toby hits him on the back of the head.

“Well,” Fin points at the badge that Toby was wearing, “All fetchers wear that sorta badge, and I know it’s not the most fashionable, so no one’s wearing it willingly,” Toby looked away sheepishly. Fin then pointed to S.p, “And this lovely lady is quiet well known considering she’s paired with Timara’s A-rank, Molly-”

“WHAT?!” Both the boys yelled out, it made Fin jump and S.p covered her ears at the sudden noise.

“So that’s why she could do that, holy shit!?” Jake jumps up and really gets in S.p’s face, she’s visibly uncomfortable, “That’s sick as fuck!” Toby tugs on his shirt, forcing him back a few steps.

Holding her throat again, S.p speaks up, “I’m just…..C-ra...rank” she croaks. Her ears drooped a little at the sound of her voice.

Jake had sparkles in his eyes at this point, “Um and?? You’re being trained by The T and her almost top class, like yo! That’s epic!”

“It’s definitely quite a high place to be at your rank,” Toby adds on, Jake nods furiously.

Fin playfully nods as well, “Yes ind-” He’s interrupted by the fwoom of smoke, and the overwhelming smell of lavender. The four of them turned to where the smoke is coming from. Out from the shadows of smoke came the one, the only,

Madame Pink. With her fan in hand over mouth, she gracefully glided from the smoke.

And her ghost ferret-like familiar came from the smoke as well, looking alert until it finally saw S.p. Then it rushed over and tackled her like a puppy would, licking her face in excitement. S.p giggled and pet the lil ferret, soon it decided to just wrap itself around her like a scarf, back legs on one shoulder, front on the other.

“Hi, aunt,” S.p manages to say, putting a grin on her face.

Madame looked over at S.p and gasped, looking dreadfully worried, she quickly rushed closer to S.p, kneeling to get a better look at her, “Goodness dear! I knew you weren’t in best of shape but...” She quickly shook her head and sighed, “It can be fixed,” She gets back up and turns to Fin, “Thank you for letting me know of this Fin,”

Fin nods, “Thank ya’ kindly dear, although you must thank these boys though, they were the ones that got her out,”

Madame looked over at them with a harsh but not mean stare, “Is this true?” They both nod, Jake keeps glancing back at the ferret, which is eyeing him down. You can’t see her mouth, but you can tell that Madame is smiling,” Well then, it would be rude to not heal you all as well,” She walks towards the exits, and motions for them to follow, “Come along now~”

Like little kids, Jake, Toby, and S.p followed close behind like little ducks, talking about how cool Madame is and talking more about themselves, (Well, S.p tried to anyways…) and Fin walked at a decent pace behind them.

In a fwoof of smoke, Madame sends everyone to her home to be healed.

This was the start of a pretty weird B-team, but no one was complaining, so we’ll just have to see what adventures they get into next.

The end!

WOWZA THATS A LOTTA WORDS

AND A LOTTA LORE

WOOP I TRIED, TANKS FOR READING

uwu

#text #story #writing #practice #practice writing #s.p #toby #finoe #jake #madame pink #my writing #my art #um idk what to tag this as. its late. im tired #oof

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trickstersantana · 6 years

Text

[Para] The one where Rachel sings Don’t Rain on My Parade

Who: Santana, Rachel @alyricalberry Daisy and Barbra Location: Undique Stadium Time: 15 October 2018 Summary: Rachel and Santana have their 6th 1vs1. “This isn't fight training, it's Rachel-needs-to-be-a-better-person training “ Triggers/Notes: Violence, needles, zombies, death, shooting

After her fight with Ryder, Rachel didn't even give Santana a second glance before rushing off to the healer's. Her energy was dangerously low and she needed to revive. Once she was better and had taken a large sip of water from the water fountain, she was ready to go back to her dorm and wallow about how terrible her attack spells were. But then on her way out she saw Santana, and before she could stop herself, she was walking towards her. "Hi. I need you to help me train. I can't be that bad at offensive spells if something bad happens again," she told her.

"My my, Barbarita asking me for a favour." Santana said, very pleased with herself. "I think you can trust your shields, but sure, let's practice the other things you aren't as good as so you suck less." She says, going to one room to enjoy the sign of hot Rachel. "Buuuut, I'm not going to do this out of the kidness of my heart, Barbarita. I want you to do something in exchange. You are like, a bloodline now and all that shit right? How influencial are the Corcorans?"

Rachel almost regretted asking Santana for a favour the minute the other girl replied. But she really needed the training. She frowned when Santana asked about her family, somewhat shocked. "Um... I don't know? I guess somewhat influential? They're in the middle tier, according to Lineage," she told her. "What do you want?" she asked.

Santana puts her hair on a high fluffy tail. "Alright, I know you are like, a super fake ally, but could you uuuh.... be real for once? Use your influence for something good?" She asks, super knowing Rachel would just join the club of useless bloodlines with her fellow top Hunter."I'm going to let you think of the good thing for LN you could do now. C'mon. I bet you can think of one or two things."

Rachel was slightly shocked that Santana was sincerely asking for something, so she was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "I am going to try to do better for LN. I'm going to be more involved in protests and campaigns," she promised. "But I don't really have much influence to throw behind it. The Corcorans have been pretty isolated from the Bloodline community for years. The name doesn't carry the same weight the same way Hunter's or Quinn's or Blaine's does," she admitted.

Santana only heard 'I'm not going to do anything at all'. "So, you aren't going to do shit." She rolled her eyes. Dissapointed but not surprised. "More involved in campains and protest mean joining what other people do, but you aren't going to start anything by yourself. C'mon, Rachel! You are driven for what you like, your damn singing clubs, could you use half the energy you put on them to like, not being a total piece of enabling shit?" She says, seriously. "Test time! What's going on now that it's bad?"

Rachel sighed. "That's not what I said Santana!" she told her. "I'm going to help, I'm going to do what I can, but my family name isn't what's going to make a difference," she added. She put her hands in her pockets and gave Santana a look. "There's the collars the CWA wants to put collars on Shapeshifters, the LN that are still missing after the whole Fuchs thing, not to mentions jerks like Coleman and his friends still going around making Shedim kneel at this school," she listed.

Santana puts her hand over her chest (you know above her boobs not in her boobs she's not touching her boobs) "But it's what you mean, except with a bit of..." She made an illusion of Rachel so the illusion spoke with a mocking voice tone. "I just want to be a good person because I don't anything bad, Santana! If I don't do anything bad, it means I don't have to o anything good either! I just want to live my life ignoring others people's problems is that too much to ask?" The voice of the illusion Rachel cracks at the end and she starts crying. Santana vanishes the illusion. "So, what can YOU do about that? And don't just say join what the others do."

Rachel glared at Santana for the illusion. “That isn’t what I’m saying. Stop putting words in my mouth,” she told her. “I see what you mean, though. I’ll think of things later. For now can we fight, please? I really need your help.”

Santana glares at her annoyed. That's what everyone says. Wait for me to become a decent person, Santana. And then they died and she was still there with all the problems to face. Or they just did nothing. She illusions a gun and starts shooting Rachel.

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (3)+4 = 7

Rachel was ready when Santana started illusioning at her. She started singing “Don’t Rain On My Parade” and put up a shield to protect herself.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d7+2= (5)+2 = 7

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 7 - 7/2= 7-7/2 = 3.5

Santana groans. So annoying. "Do you have any other bloody song in your repertory??" She makes an illusion of a cloud above Rachel, raining. But it's not raining water, but needles.

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7+4= (1)+4 = 5

Rachel smirks at Santana’s annoyance. She loved the song, but she loved it even more now that she knew Santana couldn’t stand it. Good information for later. She sent Barbra to the front of the barrier and had her roar a sound bubble righht at Santana.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d7+2= (5)+2 = 7

Santana already hate the fucking lion. Shit animals and shit familiars. She illusions spears on fire to attack Rachel.

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (1)+4 = 5

Rachel put up another shield to defend her from Santana’s attack, this time singing Fight Song by Rachel Platten.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d7+2= (2)+2 = 4

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d7+2shield = (1)+2 = 3

Santana sees another shield and she sends illusory zombies against Rachel.

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (6)+4 = 10

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d5+2= (2)+2 = 4

Rachel screamed when she saw the zombies. Of course they were an illusion, but after the immortui attack, she could barely even handle a zombie movie. She cleared her throat and started singing the same song again, pushing a sound bubble at Santana.

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (4)+4 = 8

Santana summons more zombies around Rachel. "What? Whaaat? I like hearing you scream, but you can also give me some fun arguments, you knoooow?"

Rachel had to push through the fear at Santana’s illusions. She had to ignore them, she could feel herself losing energy. She sent a fireball towards Santana to hopefully knock off her illusions.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d5+2= (4)+2 = 6

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7+4= (5)+4 = 9

Santana dodges the fire easily, Rachel has bad aim for the zombies. "Boriiiiiiing! C'mon Barbarita! Give me some battle banter!"

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7+4= (7)+4 = 11

Rachel rolled her eyes at Santana. “Why? Wouldn’t it be better if I sang Don’t Rain in My Parade again?” She teasing before sending another fireball at Santana.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d5+2= (4)+2 = 6

Santana just keeps her illusion going. If it works it works. "If you wanna keep losing like a loser, sure!" She dodges another fire ball. "Clarence is better at fire than you."

Rachel hummed. “Sure, but Hunter can’t do this,” she said, gesturing at Barbra to go breathe a breath of fire at Santana.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d5+2= (3)+2 = 5

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (6)+4 = 10

Santana quickly evades the fire lion, it's easy when Rachel is distracted by illusion zombies. She nods. "Oh, you are right... he does it more like this!" She illusions a fire dragon, throwing it's fire to Rachel.

Rachel jumped back at the fire illusion and was knocked back by it. She had a throbbing headache, but she had to show Santana she could do this. She cast another fire ball and sent it right towards her.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d5+2 = (4)+2 = 6

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (2)+4 = 6

Santana gets too distracted to avoid the fire AND maintain her illusions at the same time, so the zombies and fire go away. "Oops, shame I can do another!"

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7 +4= (3)+4 = 7

Rachel smiled triumphantly when she finally managed to shake Santana at least a little bit. She started singing Don’t Rain on My Parade again to send a sound bubble towards her.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d7+2= (5)+2 = 7

Santana makes an illusion of herself so Rachel attacks the fake Santana instead of the real one. Then she illusions a katana to attack her with because she was feeling a little Kill Bill in that particular moment.

@Santana 49/47🐮LvL 4(1/3)🍁+2AT/HP: 1d7+4= (7)+4 = 11

Rachel groaned when she realized she attacked an illusion. She dodged the katana attack and threw more fireballs at Santana—the real one this time.

@Rachel 29/30 HP🦁Lvl 3(0/3)🎶7/11: 1d7+2= (6)+2 = 8

Santana hits Rachel again with the fake katana, dodging fireballs."Surrender and beg for my mercy!"

Rachel put her hands in front of her face to dodge the katana. “Yes, yes. I surrender, please,” she said. “I... I can’t. I feel like I’m going to pass out,” she told Santana.

Santana laughs, satisfied, ending her illusions. "Alright, weakling, you can say now the only time you defeated me was pure luck!" She said offering her hand. "Now I'm going to be soooo nice I might even carry you princess style to get you healed."

Rachel rolled her eyes but still took Santana’s hand to stand. “It wasn’t pure luck. I’m just... drained from the fight with Ryder, too,” she defended. “You don’t have to carry me. Just help me get there,” she said, leaning against Santana.

Santana tries to carry her princess style but she has the strenght of a medium sized rotten and they both fall to the floor. "Alright you might be right I don't have to carry you." She said like that was her plan all along but super it wasn't and just help her walk.

Rachel yelped when Santana tried to pick her up and they fell. She couldn’t help but laugh, mostly to hide the fact that she actually liked the thought of Santana carrying her. She leaned against her again, pressing her body to Santana’s a little closer than was strictly necessary. “Well, thank you for helping me. Even if you just kicked my butt.”

#alyricalberry #chara: rachel #nimtraining #para: rachel #tw: violence #tw: needles

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what-ever-happened-to-chip · 3 years

Text

Lanas day continued

We reached Yunas room and Gray was not in there.

“Where the fuck is Gray?” Joni announced

"I don’t know haven’t seen the fucker”

“Thank you Aiden!” I had assumed she would leave with that but she walked over and made herself a refreshment and found herself a place on the couch to sit.

I wondered if her and Gray had sex. I am pretty sure they don’t even though Grays smugness he seems to try to get people to think they do. She's with Noah anyhow I am pretty sure. Do they have sex? I have heard Jonis not the sexual type. Unsure if that's from her childhood or what. It spooks me out knowing so many people's intimate life stories. Yet Harry seems to get some sick pleasure of making sure everyone knows everyone else's past tragedies. I remember when they had to put me in the “worst life” contest I was disturbed them arguing about if getting raped or parents dying is worse. How can you even compare it? Spooky. Anyhow the room was popping from just a glance I noticed Aiden was here seemingly blazed outta his mind. Yuna by his side in a similar boat and camping with the pipe. Didn’t see Marcus but noticed his coat so he probably was here earlier, maybe he’ll come back. Natsu and Adam sat on the couch thumb wrestling loudly and Rikku sat in corner coloring in a colouring book.

Yuna definitely made her room welcoming and cozy for a large amount of people. She had two couches, 3 chairs, along with her bed for places to sit. Her table had on it numerous apparatus for smoking weed, plus a giant jar of weed next to it, a hookah, a cigar box filled with cigarettes and even another box filled with heroin paraphernalia for her other friends. She herself didn’t use, but she liked keeping it around for her friends. Our sin savior really was a saint.

She smiled warmly at me and busied herself asking if I needed anything and pulling out a chair for me.

“No I am good, thanks Yuna.” I smiled. Yes, these were my people. Needed to reset after what I just went thru with Jenn. Should I mention to Aiden he probably was going to come home to an angry girlfriend? Nah best he finds out for himself and I leave myself out of it.

Aiden began busying himself making up a hit for him and Joni who yelled at him to make her one. I looked away. Even though I had seen people shooting up on multiple occasions it still made me feel a little weird watching it. I heard Joni swearing about missing her vein.

“Aidennn find a vein for meeee” She whined.

“What are you gonna do for me?’

“Please I’lll get Noah to suck your dick”

Aiden scoffed at this but proceeded to hook her up. He was incredible at finding veins I once saw him find one between his toes to use.

“Shit this stuff isn’t as good as Grays, where the fuck is he?” Joni said this while nodding. The junk could be 1% actual dope and 99% chocobo shit and she still would shoot it up.

“Well go find fucking Gray then.” Aiden made himself comfy leaning against Yuna for support. I wonder how Jenn would feel seeing this. Maybe that's why she doesn’t come around. I wanted to bring up the jealousy thing but was waiting for Marcus. Also probably better to do it with Aiden not in the room.

“THUMB WRESTLER CHAMPION OF THE WORLD FUCK YEA BITCHES.” Natsu got up and made a lap around the room. Accidentally kicking Rikkus shoe on his way around

“YOU STUPID FUCK WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!!” Rikku got up and pushed Natsu who proceeded to fall over the table and knock many things over in the process. Yuna gently moved Aiden to a pillow then rushed to help him up and began cleaning up the mess. I got up to help her out and almost jumped out of my clothes, noticing christian in the corner. Was he here the whole time and I missed him? He’s so strange sometimes when I am in the dark in my room I swear to god he’s breathing in the corner.

Chrisitan smiled his creepy smile and spoke to me “Hm just sensing my presence?”

I thought he had to touch people to read their minds. I hope I am right on that.

“Yea sorry didn't see ya before”

He smiled knowingly at me and lurked back in his corner. I swear to god the corner go darker when he moved back in it.

“Nobody notices your ugly ass mug” Aiden flashed his raised lip smirk at Christian then stared at me. “Wait what the fuck are you doing in here get the fuck out I don’t need your dumb fuck self around right now.”

“When shall I return?’

“3:14 A.M now fuck off”

Christian lurked out of the room giving me strange smile on the way out. The guy gave me goosebumps.

Aiden seemed to notice I walked in now “Where have you been? You look weird”

Fuck is my uneasieness showing? Play it cool Lana. “umm I was-”

“We were hanging with Jenn ! Why don’t you bring her around more Aiden? She’s soooo much fun!” Joni giggled and lurked around looking for fresh booze.

Aiden stared at her not seeming to know if she was joking or not. For being as sarcastic as he is, he seems to have difficulty picking it up himself.

“Why were you with Jenn?” Oh shit his paranoia seemed to be coming out.

I quickly spoke before Joni could fuck it up “I was looking for some mascara and I assumined she had some. We just hung out a bit.”

“She kicked us out, she just freaked out, out of nowhere.” Joni either forgot about the cigarette dropping or didn’t feel that was relevant to Jenn freaking out.

“Oh no is she alright?” Yuna looked at us with real concern. I wonder if she knows Jenn’s feelings towards her. Not that it would change her concern. She still worries over Axel. The flaming fuck of a person who not even sure why they still keep him around.

“Oh yeah she's fine, she just got upset over her pants.”

Aiden seemed to cool off after this, I assume she freaked out over her clothes a lot so he didn’t need to venture into why she freaked out. Their relationship has always been a curiosity to me. How the hell did those two end up? It would be like if I got with Thomas, or worse Harry.

Marcus meandered in with Buddy and retook his chair with his jacket. Before this though he walked up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I grew so giddy inside. Marcus rarely showed physical affection to me in public. Butterflies swam around in my stomach.

I wanted to be with Marcus so bad, pathetically so. We kinda were in ways like we had sex regularly enough. I knew he cared about me too but dating just wasn’t his style. At least to me since I knew he had a girlfriend named Lisa for quite some time. He had various reasons why we weren’t boyfriend/girlfriend. Generally being about his camp and it not being a suitable place to date. But its like we are gonna at this camp literally forever and we didn;t age or die so couldn’t even escape it in that way. We had in past had some people as they put it “actually die” but we always had to go on a mission then to do something weird like get a stone or a potion or something and then they were brought back. So yea previous point confirmed, couldn’t actually die. I also suspected he liked to keep himself available for any other girl he wanted to have sex with. That I would be okay with, I can do an open relationship I like sex as much as the next guy. It just sucks and so confusing. Some days he’s all loving and super into me. Then other days its like he’s meeting me for the first time. For today thought it seems like the former, which perks my day up.

“Bro Marcus guess whose the thumb wrestler champion?”

“Wild guess, you? Perhaps?”

“Yea bro its me, wanna challenge the pro?”

“Mmmm perhaps after I have trained up. Wouldn’t want to give you such an inadequate fight.”

“Aight brah! I gonna remember this and then “ Natsu blew on both thumbs then proceeded to double thumbs up “Its on!!!”

“Take on the thumb it get you numb. Fight with all your might but Natsu’s know shiatsu and them thumbs leave ya a bum” Adam rapped

“BROOOOO that was fuckin tight !! Gimme 5!” Natsu and Adam did a minute long handshake that they musta had to have rehearsed at least 100 times.

“Aww my dear Lana where have you been I was looking for you.”

“I was hanging with Jenn.” oh right I was hanging with Jenn! I have to tell him the findings.

Still gotta wait for Aiden to leave though, damn. I decided to try to speed that up. “Idk maybe you should check on Jenn she did seem pretty upset.”

He scowled at me and I was terrified he was gonna flip out.

“Dude I go check on her, she likes me” Natsu stated this with so much conviction for a second I believed him

“You stay the fuck away from her.” I think if Aiden wasn’t so high he woulda been a lot more scary at this point.

“Nah bro you sit tight me and Adam got this come on bro.” They got up rather quickly and huddled out of the room. Aiden at this sighed grabbed his gear and followed them out.

“Damn white people be actin crazy all day” Buddy began rolling himself a blunt and shakin his head muttering about white folks. We didn’t really notice skin colour in Spira, it was just race of Al Bhed but here they seem to hate black people. I feel bad for Buddy in both worlds he’s looked down on. I guess apartly after Yuna saved the world, Al Bheds gotta get a lot more involved in shit. I missed that though, didn’t get to benefit from the perks of sin being gone.

Joni rolled herself outta the bed and muttered about finding Gray and also departed the room.

Marcus turned himself towards me “So you were with Jenn? No wonder I couldn’t find you I would not have assumed you two would be together.”

“Well I went in there to kinda see what Jenn was all about.”

“Wait Lana shut up I am calling Jesse, I know he’ll wanna hear about this.” Rikku took out her phone and loudly yelled into it “JESSE GET THE FUCK IN YUNAS ROOM WE TALKING SHIT ON JENN.”

“I wouldn’t say we talking shit on Je--”

“Lana shut up you know its gossip and you know theres only shit to talk about with her. She suckssss so bad.”

Jesse entered surprisingly fast. “YO YO bitches whats the 404?”

“Whats 404.” Rikku asked while pulling her skirt up some before pushing Jesse on a chair and planting her ass right on his dick. Smiling mischievously while doing so and winking at him.

“Ya know hot gos, ins and outs, whats the fad”

“hee hee your so funny.” She then proceeded to intensely make out with him

“So Lana relay your information to us” Marcus smiled and patted the chair next to his

I moved into it and he pulled it closer to his to place his hand on my thigh. Fuck I loved it

“Okay well me and Joni were in there, well first Gray but he left and Joni was in there looking for Gray but well anyhow Yuna got brought up and she seems like shes like jealous of Yuna.”

Rikku peeled her face off Jesses at this “OMG no way thats so funny and like she probably totally is cause shes such a cunt and Yunies the bestest!”

Buddy laughed slapping his knee while doing so “Man dat girl don’t got no sense to her.”

“I feel Jenn probably sees some threat in our dear Yuna here, yet if she would really grasp who Yuna is, she would realize that everything is in order.” Marcus proclaimed. His hand was rubbing back and forth up my thigh.

Yuna looked quite flustered at all this and grabbed the blunt from Buddy to take a surprising large hit for her frame. Exhaling with ease and no coughing. Impressive.

Sighing she sat in the bed “I don’t understand why she would be jealous of me, shes so beautiful and wonderful and a fantastic artist I just don’t see it.”

“Yunie shes jealous your gonna fuck Aiden !”

Yuna blushed and looked down “Oh I didn’t realize she felt that way.”

“Damn she should be jealous if that boy had any brains he should get with you, your a steal girlie.” Buddy pinched her shoulders a little and Yuna laid her head on his.

“Oh Buddy your the best friend a girl could have!”

“Seriously though Jenns a-” Jesse looked both ways dramatically for effect then hollered “A BIIITTCHHHH”

Rikku laughed her bimbo laugh she used specifically when flirting with dudes “Shes more like a class A cunt with a pretty face, I hate her.”

Rikkus bitcheness was impressively callous.

“I wouldn’t call her that, I would say she is more ,perhaps, confused. A confused girl in a hard world she hasn’t fully come to grasp.”

Passing outside the door I noticed Gray and Marcus called out to him

“Oh there you are Gray, please come join us. Lana’s observations have led us to discuss, why Jenn has a special hatred for our dear Yuna here.”

Gray looked in on us. He looked like he had seen a ghost. He looked like shit

----then to your story----

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jugandbettsdetectiveagency · 7 years

Note

Halloween-y prompt: ouija board as a party game (maybe at Thornhill since Cheryl loves party games). Weird things start to happen and people freak. Of course there is an investigation.

@theladylabyrinth: I’d love one of jug talking Betty into exploring an abandoned asylum and her being terrified when they encounter some strange spirits/noises and him having to protect and comfort her.

Soooo, this turned out way fluffier than it probably should have given these prompts, which I decided to combine. I digressed a little, sorry!

prompts are closed

“Why are we doing this again?” Betty asked with a hint ofexasperation, trying not to let her nerves show.

The towering remains of the old Riverdale Asylum loomedbefore them, covered in decades of piled up filth and crumbling brick. Bettycouldn’t help but see a day that had long since settled into the back of hermind, slightly faded around the edges but still ever-present – standing infront of The Sisters of Quiet Mercy, with its lifeless windows and imposingstatues, waiting to see what had become of her sister.

But now, just like then, she could feel the warm, solidpresence of Jughead Jones by her side. Except this time it’s ‘post windowclimbing’, and she could slip her hand into his and soak up the reassuring warmthradiating directly from his palm.

“Because, B, when Cheryl Blossom throws a party and deigns to extend you an invitation, yougo,” Veronica chirped with a teasing smile planted firmly across her lips.

“She already lives in her very own Transylvanian castle, Idon’t understand why she had to drag us all the way out here,” Jugheadgrumbled, flexing his fingers around Betty’s while he lifted a scepticaleyebrow at the dilapidated building. Veronica shot him a withering look.

“Oh, please. Like the fact that you’re currently rocking the DickAvery look means absolutely nothing,” she quipped, shooting a pointed stare atthe camera hanging from his neck. Jughead’s free hand came up to cradle theitem in a motion he would retrospectively think was ridiculously protective.But, hey, he’d saved up a lot to buy it and Veronica’s eyes looked like they couldwhip it away from him with one quick quirk of her head, wiccan style.

“Didn’t want to waste the opportunity,” he mumbled under hisbreath, averting his eyes and scuffing his boot against the gravel. Betty’sfond giggle tugged at the corner of his mouth and his shoulders dropped withthe soothing feeling of her open palm rubbing up and down his arm lovingly.

“My little photographer,” she cooed gently, lifting up on hertoes to press a soft kiss to his warming cheek. The fact that she had calledhim her anything was always enough tohave the tips of his ears turning pink beneath his hat. He turned his headquickly, stealing an unexpected kiss that had Betty gasping in mockchastisement.

“Come on,” Veronica said a degree louder, securing the armthat Archie had slung around her more firmly across her shoulders. “We shouldget inside before all the good ghosts are taken.” Archie’s eyes widened.

“Babe, were you being serious? Are there really ghosts?Babe!” Jughead shook his head fondly as the sounds of his best friend’spanicked questions – that were remaining resolutely unanswered by Veronica –drifted further and further away.

“I know Veronica was only teasing but I know how you feelabout parties,” Betty said, tugging him to a halt as Jughead tried to followafter their friends, her eyes wide and placating. “We don’t have to go in ifyou don’t want to.”

He couldn’t resist the opportunity to rile her up, hisbeautifully stubborn girlfriend. “Why, Betty, if I didn’t know any better I’dsay you didn’t want to go inside this perfectly gothic asylum. Scared?” hesmirked, seeing the moment the liquid concern in her green eyes solidified.

“Not at all,” she huffed, pulling him towards the entrancenow. Jughead bit his lip against a laugh and let the imposing void of thedarkened doorway swallow them both whole.

It hadn’t taken long for Jughead to want to find somewhere abit quieter to spend some time. His friends had only been able to distract himfor so long before being around a large group of people at varying levels ofdrunkenness began to make him antsy.

“Come on,” Betty murmured smoothly into his ear, emergingfrom the crowd and sliding up beside him, wrapping her hand around the crook ofhis elbow.

“Huh?” Jughead asked lightly, painting an innocent expressionacross his features and consciously making an effort to stop his foot fromtapping hurriedly against the concrete floor. Betty sighed in mockexasperation, pulling him along with her as she began to walk backwards – itdidn’t take much effort on her part, he went willingly.

“I’ve seen you peering aroundpractically every corner and every doorway we’ve passed tonight. I’m surprisedyou lasted this long; you’re itching to explore,” she teased, locking theirfingers together. Jughead hurried his pace until he fell into step beside her,looking down at her profile with the softest eyes.

“You hate creepy places,” Jughead pointed out as they beganto ascend a questionably stable staircase, the slats creaking in protest witheach step they took.

“But I love you,” Betty replied easily without missing abeat. Jughead felt a tingling warmth spread throughout his every extremity, andhe rolled his lower lip between his teeth to try and keep his cheek-splittinggrin somewhat at bay.

“What was that?” Betty squeaked, her shoulders jumping up toher ears as another unidentifiable noise echoed through the room they were in.

“It’s nothing, Betts. Just the wind. Can you look backtowards the window?” Jughead dismissed from behind his camera, trying tocapture the way the midnight moonlight bounced off the smooth planes of Betty’spale face, refracting off the broken glass in front of them. Betty shookherself, clearing her head of ridiculous thoughts while trying to ignore thetiny prickles dancing their way up the back of her neck, and did as she wasasked.

“You know whenever the guy in the movie says it’s just thewind, it’s never just the wind,” Betty retorted dryly, barely moving her lipsas she tilted her head, guided by Jughead’s gentle touch. He brushed his thumbalong her lower lip as he pulled away, delighting in the way her eyes darkenedto a slightly deeper shade of green.

“Don’t worry, baby. If the big, spooky ghosts come for us, I’ll protect you,” Jughead whispereddramatically, one corner of his mouth lifting cheekily, dropping his hold onhis camera to take a step closer.

“I won’t hold my breath,” Betty whispered, trying and failingto hide that she no longer had any breath left – not after the way his lipslooked wrapping around the word ‘baby’, the way he was crowding her against thebattered desk behind them.

One of Jughead’s hands came up to cradle her face as his lipscovered hers, pressing the length of their bodies together with the other handat the small of her back. Betty could feel the pad of his thumb rubbing slowlyback and forth there, grazing the swell of her ass briefly with every swipe. Shelet out a soft whimper as his tongue ran along the seam of her lips, dipping into taste the inside of her mouth, his hip bucking into hers at the noise. Thescrape of the desk across the floor as they forced it backwards got lost in thethudding bass of the party music filtering throughout the building, vibratingup through their bodies and keeping time with their rapidly increasingheartrates.

“It’s also… the couple… making out… that gets killed… earlyon,” Betty spoke against his lips between kisses, trying to calm her heavingchest as Jughead began to roam further south, mouthing at the edge of her jaw,the underside of her chin, the slope of her throat. His amused laugh rumbled inhis chest, fuelling the growing heat beginning between her thighs.

“As much as the fact that you’ve been watching so many horrormovies lately is working as a turn on right now,” he breathed with a pointedpress of his hips into hers. “Talking about our impending death is not,” hefinished, digging his teeth into her lower lip.

“Oh, but I thought it would be your kind of thing,” Bettygiggled, sliding her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pullingjust hard enough to elicit a grunt. He lowered his head back to hers, hisfingers wandering beneath the fabric of her sweater.

“Hey, Bughead! The queen requires your presence,” Kevin’svoice drifted into the room about the raucous. Jughead groaned, dropping hishead to Betty’s shoulder as she continued to run her fingers carefully throughhis dark waves, making him shudder.

“Now?” Jughead shouted back, feeling Betty’s shoulders shakewith quiet laughter. He pinched at her hip, enjoying the squeal that burst fromher lips.

“Now, or on your head be it,” Kevin replied, poking his headaround the doorway. “She’s brought a Ouija board!” he screeched, disappearingas quickly as he arrived. Jughead rolled his eyes.

“Cheryl Blossom andghosts in the same room – I’m not sure anyone should be subjected to that,” hegrumbled, locking his arms around Betty’s waist.

“Don’t worry, baby.I’ll protect you,” Betty mimicked, shrieking as he chased her out of the room.

“Alright, cretins. If anybody so much as slides this glass aninch, even by accident, I will rain hell upon them, got it?” Cheryl told everybodysteadily as they gathered in a circle, each resting a finger on the planchette.

An apprehensive hush fell across the group, and even Jugheadfelt a slight buzzing starting beneath his skin, and not just as a side effectof sitting so close to Kevin who was practically vibrating on his other side.

“Spirits,” Cheryl spoke into the air, closing her eyes so herthick lashes rest daintily on her high cheeks. “Are you with us?” It was as ifeverybody simultaneously stopped breathing as they waited for a reply. Jugheadwas just about to scoff his disbelief in the afterlife when Archie spoke upfrom across the circle.

“Why isn’t anything happening?” he frowned, furrowing hiseyebrows at the little wooden object as if he were trying to move it with hismind.

“Hush, Archiekins,” Cheryl chastised, earning herself an icyglare from Veronica. “Give them time.” They waited some more.

“Look nothing is going to–” Jughead’s sigh was cut off by thesharp slide of wood across wood as the planchette shot over to the word ‘yes’.

“Holy shit!” Reggie yelled, pulling his finger back quickly,replacing it when Cheryl fixed him with an unimpressed stare.

“Did that seriously just happen? Nobody is fucking with us,right?” Moose asked nervously, glancing at everybody in the circle pointedly.There was a murmured denial of any tampering.

“Shut up!” Cheryl demanded, shifting in her seat, lookingever the summoner of the dead with her dark red lips and spider brooch glintingin the low light. “Spirit, can you tell us your name?”

Another beat passed in which Jughead was ready to chalk thewhole thing up to their collective imaginations – even if he knew such a thingwas pretty much impossible, but he wasn’t willing to dismiss the theory thatthey were being slowly pulled under the influence of some age old toxic fumesthat lingered inside the building – when there was movement under their handsonce more.

“C. O. O. P. E. R,” they chanted, spelling out the message.Betty’s blood ran cold as multiple pairs of eyes turned to her all at once.

“Me?” she squeaked, locking eyes with Jughead.

“Betty Cooper,” Cheryl crooned. “Well, if anyone was going tohave any crazy skeletons in their proverbial closet of course it would be yourfamily.”

Betty narrowed her eyes. “Cheryl, our families are related.Technically it’s your crazy, too,” she shot back, preening at Jughead’s chuckleas the smirk dropped quickly from Cheryl’s face.

“Ancestor Cooper, do you have a message for us?” Cheryl bitout in lieu of a reply, straightening her shoulders. The planchette quivered.

“D. E. A. T. H.”

“Well, that’s not good,” Archie piped up, not looking up tosee Jughead’s withering look.

“Who?” Kevin asked eagerly before anyone else could,balancing on the edge of his seat. “Who’s gonna die?!”

“E. V. E. R. Y. O…”

As the group continued to spell out the fatal message,Jughead’s gaze narrowed in on the opposite side of the table, his angerflaring.

Chuck’s composure was cracking, a laugh threatening to breakhis almost-straight face as he unquestionably pushed the planchette across theboard. Jughead bristled, furious that he’d bring Betty into his games, shootingout his foot and delivering one swift kick to Chuck’s shin beneath the table.

“Son of a bitch!” Chuck yelled, pulling his hand back tocradle his injured leg, his retreat coinciding with the stilling of thespelling on the board. “What the hell, Jones?!”

“I believe we’ve found out ghost,” Jughead deadpanned, leaning back in his chair and drapingan arm protectively around Betty’s shoulders. Veronica whacked Chuck’s chest withthe back of her hand.

“Not cool, man,” Reggie breathed, some of the colour finallybeginning to return to his face.

“I can’t believe it was fake,” Kevin pouted, slumping in hisseat while Moose cast him an incredulous look.

“Tut tut, Chuckles,” Cheryl sang, and for the first time thatnight Chuck began to look afraid. “You didn’t play by the rules…” she trailedoff. As much as his curiosity was piqued, Jughead didn’t stuck around to hearwhat kind of repercussions Chuck was going to have to face at the hands ofCheryl Blossom. He pulled Betty up with him.

“Looks like I came to your rescue after all,” Jughead murmuredinto her ear as he tucked her close against his side. Betty shoved at hischest, quickly pulling him back to her after he stumbled.

“Never doubted you, Jones.”

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty x jughead #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #bughead fan fiction #jetty #writing

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