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sepublic · 4 years

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Productively Handling an Issue

A while back, I got an ask where an Anon felt like Luz deserved some degree of punishment for the book report incident, even if the Reality Camp WAS a bit much. I’ve also noticed some discussion of the potential danger of what Luz did. And thinking about it… Here are my thoughts, and how this connects to the show’s recurring themes as a whole;

I do agree that what Luz did WAS a mistake… But to me, it seemed like a fairly innocent and innocuous mistake. Definitely the worst thing she had done up until that point, but otherwise… Not something that needed too much punishment? Maybe even none at all… At the very least, the Reality Camp was going overboard.

It’s worth noting that those snakes are definitely Luz’s pets. Camila alludes to Luz having ‘reptilian’ friends… Not to mention, she and Principal Hal don’t bat an eye at Luz bringing the snake to the meeting and holding it in her bare hand! The implication is obviously that the snakes are Luz’s pets, and considering the kind of person Camila is… I doubt she’d let Luz have dangerous snakes as pets- At the very least, no more dangerous than a dog or a cat would be. Like I said; Her and Hal are completely fine with Luz bringing her snake to the meeting, in her bare hand; They don’t expect it to hurt them or Luz, and obviously this expectation is transmitted to Luz. To Luz, if her mother lets her have the pet snakes, then clearly they’re not dangerous; And if they’re safe for Luz, then surely they’re safe for other kids as well!

Luz probably disregarded the snakes biting other students’ hair as them just ‘playing’… Which DOES point to the snakes being mostly harmless. Let’s be real here, a cockroach crawling onto a person wouldn’t actually hurt them, but it’d definitely freak them out and make them act as if they were bitten… I speak from experience, and as someone who thinks roaches are low-key interesting creatures no less!

But of course, that’s still rather negligent on Luz’s part to disregard how other kids may feel. At the same time though –especially when one considers how she’s coded as ADHD- I’m willing to give her some slack because it really DID seem like a genuine, honest mistake… That Luz figured that if her mom and Hal were fine with Luz handling these snakes, what’s so different about other kids handling them? Definitely a mistake, but I think one that Luz merely needed to be informed of, rather than punished for.

Then there’s the fireworks… ALSO dangerous and wrong, but- Luz isn’t exactly a criminal (at least not yet she wasn’t). Last I checked, you can’t buy fireworks without being an adult –or at least older than Luz was- so this points to the fireworks being something that was already at home, and thereby accessible to her. Not trying to shift the blame towards Camila, mind you… I do agree that Luz did a genuine mistake, and Camila is a single, working-class nurse and likely away from home a lot, just so she can keep her kid fed. I can’t entirely blame Camila for not remembering to tell Luz that even if the fireworks are accessible in their home, they’re not to be toyed around with.

We don’t exactly know what Luz’s plans were, but I assume she planned to set them off outside. I don’t think she was hell-bent on setting the fireworks off, no matter what; She seems willing to stop when Hal and Camila indicate they’re a bad idea, so it’s likely that Luz just did not realize that they canbe that dangerous. I wouldn’t so much say that Luz was actively, apathetically disregarding the safety of others, as she was simply caught up in the idea of doing something that could dazzle and impress her classmates.

Again, that isn’t to say that Luz DIDN’T mess up… She made mistakes, let’s be real here! But the thing is… She really didn’t seem to know better, and when Camila and Hal DO tell Luz to stop; She readily agrees! Obviously they brought up the Reality Camp as a punishment beforehand, but based on what we see of Luz’s personality afterwards –even if one takes character development into account- I doubt she needed to be threatened in order to agree with changing her behavior.

In fact, I’m not sure if Luz even needed to be punished; At the very least, her ‘punishment’ would be something that focuses on rectifying the situation with those students her pets harassed. She’s not like Lilith, who willingly took chances with Luz’s life and risked it during her final duel with Eda, even if she probably thought Luz wouldn’t actually die! By contrast, Luz didn’t intentionally overlook the safety of her classmates, because she never realized/considered there was any danger to begin with… Impulsive, but understandable given her ADHD-coding, and certainly not dumb nor apathetic!

I think something very important to remember is that Luz does promise to change her behavior, to not make the same mistakes again! She really was willing to respond to criticism; Which makes it all the more painful when the snake, beyond Luz’s control, attacks Hal. That scene was honestly very uncomfortable to me; Luz didn’t even get the chance to change her behavior, to fix things, before she got punished! Luz immediately being sent to the Reality Camp for something that happened as a result of a prior mistake she was already planning to fix (instead of a new one she made after her promise), a mistake she didn’t even get a moment to rectify…

It just comes across as cruel, mean-spirited, and outright petty! Spiteful, even… Like come on, Luz made it clear she was going to change and fix things, or at least try! And Principal Hal LET Luz bring the snake into his office, and hold it in her bare hand right in front of him! Luz is just following the guidance of the adults, looking to them to tell her what’s right or wrong… If Hal let Luz bring the snake in and it attacked him, then he’s partly to blame for poorly mishandling the incident! He IS a principal, after all, he should know about de-escalating situations and ensuring the safety of everyone else at hand here, when kids can’t tell what’s dangerous or not. It’s definitely Luz’s fault for bringing the snakes to school, but it’s not her fault for bringing the snake into the office when Hal let her!

Coupled with how Luz was willing to change her behavior, didn’t even get the chance to, and how that snake was part of a mistake that happened BEFORE she made her promise… It all just comes across as more like a vindictive punishment to a kid, than an actual attempt to help them. And, I should preface that I’m no child psychologist; But even so…

I feel like Hal and Camila’s handling of the situation established a precedent for other problems we see in this show. Namely… Luz DID have a problem. She had a problem with genuine loneliness and not knowing how to make friends, not distinguishing reality from fiction at times, and thus disregarding others as an occasional result! Luz was clearly suffering from some issues and she needed help, that’s kind of a major point!

But the thing is… I feel like Hal and Camila (mostly Hal) didn’t address the problem in an effective manner? Which makes sense, given this show’s critique of the American school system… Luz definitely had issues of loneliness and delusion that caused prior incidents. But clearly, punishing her for those past incidents didn’t keep them from stopping… Which brings up the idea of addressing the symptoms of an underlying problem, and not the root-cause that’s causing them to begin with! Punishing Luz the first few times for her other incidents was like a band-aid, it made her stop doing those things temporarily… But she was still a kid who wasn’t taught how to differentiate fiction from reality, and so Luz was still prone to keep causing problems as a result.

I’ll give Camila some slack, she’s a single mother and a nurse, she’s no doubt incredibly busy. But I think this concept of recognizing that there’s an issue, but then either not actually addressing the root cause behind it, or worse, handling the issue in a manner that’s less than productive and just makes the person feel worse… This seems like a precedent established by our opening scene, which we then see with OTHER characters and conflicts later in the show!

We have Lilith, who recognizes that she cursed Eda! However, Lilith opts to wallow in self-pity and beat herself up for it, destructively tearing down her own self-esteem, instead of constructively fixing the actual problem by sharing the curse with her sister, or at least being honest about what happened! You have Luz and Willow helping Amity learn to be kinder and happier…. While leaving the implicit awareness that until the Blight Parents are addressed, Amity won’t truly heal.

Principal Bump saw Viney, Jerbo, and Barcus getting into trouble; But instead of addressing the issue of their unmet educational needs, he instead completely banned them from practicing magic in the Detention Track! And this is speculation, but it seems that Emira and Edric WERE concerned with how cold Amity was to other people, and seemed under the impression that their cruel pranks would somehow ‘lighten her up’- When instead they just made Amity feel even more miserable, and less willing to open up and reach out.

It’s a recurring trend- A destructive response to an issue, instead of something constructive and meant to fix the problem itself… It’s a ‘solution’ fixated on simply punishing and hurting someone as retribution for their mistakes, while the actual problem and its effects keep going on in the background. It’s ignoring a systemic cause behind these recurring incidents; Just as ignoring the Coven System and not dismantling it would be a fatal error, because even if people like Lilith and Boscha learn not to be so terrible… The Coven System will continue to enable and encourage other witches after them to do horrible things. And while individual accountability IS a thing, the show’s messages seem to point towards tackling systematic issues (either on a personal or societal level), before then having time to focus on the individual problems that came from them.

Camila was right; Luz DID have issues with differentiating fantasy from reality, of being lonely and unsure of how to handle social interactions, etc.! Just as Lilith recognized she made a mistake, Bump saw that the Detention Kids had caused trouble, Emira and Edric noticed Amity was becoming cold and cruel… But instead of constructively fixing the issue and addressing the root cause behind it, they instead focused on patching up the individual problems that spawned from this core issue, or even simply hurting and punishing the person ‘responsible’ for them.

Amity messed up when she was cruel to Willow, that much is clear. But piling on more cruelty towards Amity as retribution wouldn’t have helped- It wouldn’t have fixed her issues. It wouldn’t have given her the self-confidence to actually change her behavior. It would’ve just made Amity feel worse and more terrible, more self-loathing, and believe she was a terrible person who could never do things right- So why bother trying to make a difference?

The approach of Hal, to me, seems about as effective as slapping a band-aid over an injury… You’re addressing the symptoms, but what of the actual problem that’s causing them to spawn? And that’s even assuming he DID address the symptoms… His handling of the situation, overtly punishing Luz by sending her to the Reality Camp –again for a mistake that was literally and figuratively out of her hand- did not make things better, it likely would’ve just made things worse… Or at the very least, Luz would stop misbehaving, but at the cost of major emotional damage and self-loathing.

It’s a theme this show has been building up to; Learning to address problems in a productive, constructive manner, not focusing on punishing the culprit, but instead diverting energy into actually making things better! Making the ‘culprit’ feel worse isn’t going to fix things. And similarly, while individual accountability and incidents ARE a thing… If you really want to make a change, one must address the systemic, root-cause of the issue!

Just as Luz’s issues stemmed from loneliness and delusion, or how people like Lilith and Boscha were encouraged by the overarching Coven System… You can help Lilith be a better person. You can get Luz to not turn her eyelids inside out. But the core of the issue will still remain, and it’s going to cause other problems in the future; Such as Luz bringing the snakes and fireworks, or further generations of witches being indoctrinated into the Coven System’s elitism and abuse.

I might give Hal, too, some slack since he’s a principal and really busy… But then again his entire job is to look after kids and help them do well. But just as Lilith never bothered to consider why Eda still refused to join the Emperor’s Coven, even under the incentive of having her curse cured… I think Hal should’ve considered that something else was afoot that was causing Luz to repeatedly cause these sorts of incidents at school. If punishing her with detention in the past didn’t keep other issues from happening- Then what makes Hal think that punishing Luz again, with Reality Camp, will make things any different? When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Instead of telling someone to stop doing something, maybe ask WHY they’re doing that? It calls back to when Luz posed this question to Principal Bump, who initially dismissed this as him ‘not caring for the ins and outs of rascality’- Although of course in HIS case it’s understandable because he DID know and empathize, he was just afraid of the Emperor’s Coven for a good reason.

However, just as Lilith should’ve realized that the same old promise of curing Eda’s curse and hiding the truth wasn’t going to fix things, that maybe it was time she tried a different approach… I think Hal should’ve also recognized that repeated detentions weren’t stopping Luz’s misbehavior, at least not in the long-term. He should’ve tried a different approach, and he DID… But it was a worse one. The Reality Camp would’ve just screwed over Luz and likely traumatized her, getting her to stop causing trouble but at the cost of her identity and self-esteem; Or making her SO self-loathing and desperate for loneliness, that she does worse things for attention!

And again… I have to wonder if Hal isn’t entirely to blame, if he himself is also dealing with the underlying issue that is the American school system, which he probably grew up in. And that all ties back to a major lesson of The Owl House; That just as the Coven System needs to be addressed, so does our education system! Maybe it’s not the kids/witches who are intentionally screwing themselves over and messing themselves up, maybe it’s actually the system…!

TL;DR Luz definitely had issues. But not only do I think we’re exaggerating her maliciousness/carelessness in this situation, but also we need to consider what was actually causing these repeated incidents… And similarly, Camila and Hal definitely recognized that there WAS a problem, potentially responsible for all of the incidents- But they didn’t handle it any better than Luz did, and would’ve just made things worse. And honestly, with how messed-up the system is back home, those two aren’t entirely to blame for their faulty approach, either…

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house camila #camila noceda #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house bump #principal bump #hieronymous bump #the owl house hal

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Title: Trials and Tributes (5/5)

Summary:

"There were witches who lived among them. Or so that's what Levi was told. He just could not believe for the life of him that she'd be one of them."

Levi is a soldier who interrogates witches before they are put on trial and Hange might just be a witch.

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @cleacourgette

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 2 3 4

Notes: And.... It’s done. Merry Christmas and a happy new year! I hope you enjoyed the gift ;)

Levi was not one to underestimate the powers of pubs particularly the ones strategically placed on crossroads. Being a place where people relaxed after a long day, a place that prided itself in being constantly changing and completely unpredictable, it was an oasis of both free flowing drinks and free flowing information.

Levi was there for the latter.

From there, he figured out the whereabouts of his uncle overtime. Kenny the Ripper. An assassin for hire who travelled through the southern lands taking down both drug lords and nobles for a fee. He had grown up with the man and had been trained with the bow and arrow and the knives. Kenny the Ripper described in the stories could not be anyone else.

Spending his nights there, he had also figured out the relatively backward society of his homeland especially when compared to the land down south. Witchcraft was something more feared in the cities and towns up north, possibly due to the characteristic religiousness that came with their culture. It could have possibly been due to the amount of power given to the religious authorities in his own country as well.

Five years into his exile Levi had settled for frequenting a pub located on a crossroad, a week’s journey away from the mountain path where he and Erwin had separated more than a decade back. Although he had learned a new language, new customs and adapted a new name, Levi never did forget his life up north. His nights were still haunted by the dreams of Hange on the pyre and the lives he had taken in a frenzy.

Sometimes his dreams were merciful and he would find himself back in the cabin so many years ago listening to rambles over tea. Even the happy dreams though left Levi a bit teary-eyed as he would yearn for the life he lived long ago. In the end though, he started to realize he just wanted to see Hange again.

Hange is ahead of our time. An extraordinary person, born into a society that rejects the extraordinary. Erwin’s words would echo in his head as he lay awake at night. With nothing much else to ponder alone in a dark room at night, Levi found himself worrying about her. Was she sleeping well? Eating well? Had Erwin failed to defend her at court? Was she still able to practice her crazy experiments and mess up some kitchenware in the process?

There were only two ways to find answers. He could go back to the capital and risk death. Or he could strategically frequent pubs for information. The realist in Levi that had only grown a little more influential over the years compelled him to decide on the latter.

The pieces of information Levi had gotten came in small words and sentences, comments and opinions. It required him to piece available information together while settling contradictions that surfaced by gathering more information. He rarely asked anyone directly, saving those cards for when he really needed them. He could still have been a high profile criminal and he risked being recognized and thus, would usually settle for listening in an inconspicuous corner of the pub.

With all the cards lined up against him, Levi was only able to complete the puzzle a decade later. The last piece came one night when a messenger came in to announce the abdication of the crown and the pub exploded into cheers.

“Who’s the new ruling family?”

“The noble family Reiss will be taking the throne.”

A transfer of power was always big news. As Levi listened, he realized he wasn’t too surprised. Among the information he had gotten from his nights in the pub, he had heard of power vacuums and civil unrest which all resulted from a mysterious tragedy decades ago when the nobles had attempted to burn a witch at stake. The theories that had stemmed from that incident with time had made their way to the countries down south.

The devil had rejected the current ruling class. The religious theorized.

The empty seats of power only made it easier for their enemies to usurp. The more secular supporters inferred.

The shift in power dynamics and the fear and unrest among the working class only made it more difficult for the church and the remaining nobility to clamp down on their poor. The decade long political battle culminated into a usurpation of the throne and the reinstallment of a noble family with more secular views and a more blatant distrust on the church and its influence.

Secular views? Levi was sure Erwin was involved. He had felt it then, at the foot of the moment before he had crossed the border, as Erwin recounted his own views on their society. He also knew Erwin would not have taken something as heavy and political as the usurpation of a throne lightly.

Somehow, he felt a weight disappear off his shoulders when others had started to discuss the crimes of the church and their own doubts about religion forced onto them. Was the world Erwin was talking about actually coming?

Levi was aware that he was still a wanted criminal. With the change in power and the possible changes in the society that were bound to follow though, he deemed the risk of entering the country in his current state worth taking.

He decided to go home.

Trials and Tributes

“I knew you’d be back.” Erwin broke the silence in the room.

Levi had entered the city quietly many times before and had managed to avoid attention from many of its inhabitants. He never did figure out whether it was because everyone had forgotten the face of the rogue soldier from the incident a decade ago or because he had just assimilated into the crowds too well.

He had entered Erwin’s office through the window his superior had always left open, intending to wait for the right moment to speak. It turned out Erwin had noticed him first, even behind the shadows.

“How long has it been?” Levi asked. It was just like Erwin to keep a close eye on the shadows.

“Ten years since we last met. Two years since the Reiss family took the throne.” Erwin answered. Two answers for one question.

The journey back to the capital had taken Levi a few weeks give or take. He had lost count of the days, having been too focused on getting back as soon as he could while avoiding attention. “Has anything changed since then?” Levi asked. He knew two years was a long time, enough for some major changes to happen.

“We haven’t had witch trials in years. The nobles and the church had been too busy fighting. But the Reiss family is working to ban witch trials completely. They have plans of drafting a magna carta based on those created by the countries down south so it looks like we might actually be transitioning into a new era.”

“That’s good.” There was not much to say. He knew at least that those two words were genuine.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked about her yet.”

When Erwin had pointed it out, Levi became a little more self aware and consequently, surprised that she hadn’t been the first thing he had asked about. Maybe he had just been a little too surprised at how the city had changed. It had become a little cleaner. It harbored an atmosphere of hope more than an atmosphere of fear. When he first entered Erwin’s room, he had also noticed there were two new bookshelves filled to the brim with books. His desk and chair were both gone and in that corner, a cupboard lay instead. As Levi figured out soon enough, it was filled with books and documents as well.

For a second, he might have forgotten about her. Or maybe he hadn’t. As he further reflected on his thoughts, he realized he was thinking about her. His thoughts of her lay in the hope that had bubbled through him as he navigated his way through the city. That subtle reminder that she probably would have enjoyed the conversations he had overheard among the townspeople --- political speculations and the occasional scientific speculations on strategic farming methods and healing methods. He had allowed himself a few seconds to consider as well the coming of a new era, an age where people like Hange could thrive. And possibly that was what had led to that instinctive first question.

“She must be alive then if you’re so eager to talk about her.” Is she alive? Levi had phrased his question as a statement, as if it could erase all doubts that she could have died in his ten years away from home.

“We keep in touch. Sometimes she visits.”

Levi needed a second to recover from that strong wave of relief that rushed through him. He only noticed his hand was shaking when he brought it up to his eyes to catch any tears that might make their way out he tried to bite them all back. Erwin did not comment on that at least.

“You should go see her. She asks about you every time.”

“What do you say when she asks?”

Erwin shook his head. “I didn’t know where you were. What else could I say? I think she’s sharp enough to tell though that you were the witch--- the rogue soldier everyone was talking about.”

“Do people still talk about it? The incident ten years ago? The rogue soldier?”

Erwin shook his head. “With your actions, all you’ve done is make the usurpation of the throne possible. I don’t think anyone is in a hurry to arrest you now.” He gave Levi a wry smile. “Maybe they’ll even treat you to dinner.”

It was an attempt at humor. Both men silently agreed that the best option would still be to remain low key. Even if Levi weren’t a witch, he was still a murderer after all.

In the end he didn’t mind. It felt like he had lived a lifetime already in those past twenty years. He was raring to see Hange. As he rode up north though, he made no deliberate effort to go faster.

Seeing the familiar landscape along the familiar road to his hometown was a constant reminder that he was on his way home. His body had probably taken that as a sign to prepare him for rest and twenty years worth of aches and fatigue made itself known to him gradually over the long ride.

It was only through those discomforts did he realize he never did have a place to call home the past ten years, having taken odd jobs, having jumped from inn to inn and pub to pub.

The forest where the old cabin he grew up in was on the way to the village and just like always, a five minute ride away, he was sure he would find Hange’s old cabin-turned-apothecary. His cabin stood a little older than the trees around it. Levi had to note that the green that surrounded the cabin, framing it as if it were only a painting, were as green and as fresh as they looked decades ago.

Nature is timeless. Levi found himself admiring it while reminiscing about his childhood. The trees around him and the grass below served as a time capsule.

And it was a time capsule he was eager to open. He dismounted his horse, wanting to feel the grass beneath him as he walked.

He closed his eyes as he walked. With that, he was able to pretend he was a kid again, practicing the art of sneaking while Kenny was away. He let out a quiet laugh in the form of a playful smile and a tiny exhale as he imagined how he had been much noisier as he moved through the taller grass years ago.

Oh, how times have changed. A mocking comment aimed towards the younger self that resided within him.

The large field of grass he silently navigated through should have led to the beginnings of Hange's herb garden. The long weeds around him though opened up to a large tract of land of only bare soil.

That was what snapped Levi out of his trance. For a second, he had assumed that he had taken the wrong path. He wished that were the reason. He was about to look back and retrace his steps when he noticed the cabin at the end of the yards of bare soil in front of him.

Hange’s cabin. With that, he was pulled further and further out of his daydream and into the reality in front of him. He wasn't a kid. In fact, he was already a good number of years past thirty.

It's been 20 years. Of course the world would have changed. He at least attempted to reassure himself. Words were far from reassuring though, overshadowed by the fact that the cabin in front of him looked abandoned, the fields around him bare.

He could have sworn there were rows and rows of herbs there only a decade before. He left his horse out and rushed into the cabin. The dark was easily broken open. In fact as he had pushed it in, it fell out of its hinges.

Hange would have gotten mad if she were here.

If she still lived here. The beds, the table and the kitchen were just like he had last seen it years ago. In fact, they looked to be in a worse state. Levi felt his heart drop as he saw them abandoned and worn. It was impossible to reminisce given the state of the cabin. Or maybe it was impossible because of the state of his mind then. His mind was grappling for answers.

He found lightly jumping on the stool, ignoring the creaks of protest from the chair below him, surveying the contents of all the dilapidated shelves around the room. They were all empty from top to bottom.

“Where’s Hange?” He had said it aloud. A part of him somehow believed someone would answer yet all he received in return were weak echoes.

Erwin did not give him an exact address when Levi had met him in the capital. He had mentioned sending the letters to the post office on the square was more than enough. A messenger would send it to Hange and Erwin still got his replies. Hange was always the one who visited the capital so there was never any need to know her exact address.

There was another question Levi should have asked though. How long had it been since Erwin had last talked to her?

Levi ended up scolding himself for not even asking such an important question. He mounted his horse and galloped towards the direction of the village. His body continued to protest the rough movements of the gallop on his battered body since he had been riding for a lot more than a day already.

He treated the pain and a discomfort though as a punishment. A punishment for so carelessly assuming she would be okay.

His next stop was the center of town, or maybe the pub. Like always, that was the best place to get questions answered. Levi rode quickly, ignoring the houses that dotted the fields that only became more and more frequent as he followed the path.

There were more houses than before. There were more children playing outside. He could hear it in the laughters and the voices that somehow made their way to his ears despite the loud galloping from underneath him. He chose to ignore all of them.

Only one thing would make him stop. Only Hange.

Or any sign at least to where she might be. And as he neared the village, the sign made itself known as the distinct scent that carried too many memories.

Levi had the nose for it. He had smelled it too many times to know. If he had been a little more eloquent, maybe he would have even been able to recount the journey it made, recount the way his mind processed the scent from the fruits to the flowers then to the cold wind that rushed up his nose despite it being a warm afternoon.

It only got stronger and stronger as he followed the path. He quickened his pace further until he reached the center of town where it was impossible to gallop without risking running someone over.

Somehow, the scent remained unyielding, despite the other stimuli threatening to overshadow it. As he rode through town, he kept his head down, relying instead on the cobblestone streets to lead him to the right direction. He could hear multiple conversations at once, not bothering to make sense of them. He stayed focused on the scent.

His other senses only got stronger as the scent got stronger though. Levi soon realized he was just getting more alert for any signs of where it was and how it would manifest itself then.

“Can you show me your magic again?”

“It’s not magic Anna... It’s just nature.”

"Show me your nature trick then!"

"Fine, let's go back to the house. Not here where it's too crowded."

He was hearing a hundred conversations at once but somehow, that conversation stood out. He had instinctively looked toward the general direction where he had heard them. It had taken him a few minutes to follow the voices, having kept a record of it engraved in his head. He recognized the voice and he found himself repeating that last sentence in his head as he scanned the crowd of people.

Levi though had instinctively settled for looking through the areas with larger crowds of people towards the center of town and maybe the main square. If he had been sharper about it, he probably would have traced the conversation to the garden on the little corner, at the back of what used to be the pub.

He had ended up wasting an hour more than necessary, the voice and the conversation long gone from his mind. He settled for going to the pub, or at least where he remembered it to be.

The pub of decades ago was replaced by a quaint house which could have been owned by anyone. It could have been from a sense of duty or a bout of nostalgia but somehow, Levi felt the need to investigate. He followed the narrow road which would lead him to the back of the pub, further spurred on by the scent that resurfaced as he got further away from the bustle of the town center. The narrow road opened up to green fields and as Levi soon realized, that green field was an the herb garden stretched for yards or maybe even hectares, much bigger than what he had stumble upon so many years ago. He had to note that the herbs had dividers. An oddly calming improvement.

“Watch.”

He turned around instinctively at the gasps of surprise. Hange was there and just like the many years ago, her hand was on fire.

Her hand was on fire. He would have panicked, if he didn’t see the way she had playfully smiled at the kids.

“Don’t try this at home.”

“But how did you do it?” One of the kids asked.

“I showed you before right? If you try to mix the oil and the water, the oil rises to the top. If I wet my hand like this…” She dipped her hand in a bowl and put it over the flame of the candle. “I can hold the fire.”

“Why isn’t it hot?”

“The water cools my skin and the fire has to make the oil evaporate before it reaches the water.”

“Can I try?” One of the children attempted to dip her hand into the mixture.

“No, not yet. You might get burned. I got burned the first time I tried it.”

That same child pouted then sighed in disappointment. “Can you do it again?”

Levi watched silently as she did the trick again. That same trick from ten years ago. She played with the flame of her hand, holding it like a pet the same way she had done ten years ago. and somehow, Levi realized her eerie smile then was the same smile she was giving the children then.

He had the luxury of time to observe her closely and carefully and as he realized soon enough, her smile was far from creepy. In fact, the smile she gave them was complemented by her eyes which held the same wonder he had seen them hold so many times before.

He could have sat on his horse all day just watching. In fact, he wanted to. He was also in too much pain to have been able to move from his spot.

The scent that wafted through the air was strong. Levi was very much certain then that it was that same scent he had been following the past few hours

Following the scent had only brought him back to her.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the horse. Eventually though, Hange did notice he was there. He relished everything from the look of surprise she had given as she made eye contact with him, the way she would shake her head, look away then look back at him and the fact she had repeated that a comical number of times.

Levi couldn’t help but smile. He had done the same thing so many times before when faced with his own mirages, his own tricks of the eye fueled by the longing that had plagued him during his time in the south. He had seen too many tall brunettes that could have just been Hange if he didn’t look too closely.

Finally, when she was satisfied with the amount of times she had blinked and shook her head, she stood up from her stool and walked towards him.

“You can get off your horse now.”

It turned out all he needed to lose his inhibitions and collapse in exhaustion was any sign that she was near. Her voice and her touch were more than enough. He closed his eyes as he felt her arms around her.

I’m home. I can rest. How long since he had felt that?

Teacher, who’s that?

An old friend.

Really? Why are you blushing?

He awoke again to that same scent. It wafted through the air but at the same time he could feel it as a cool wind soothing his aching joints. He couldn't help but be grateful that the ache had dulled though and as he took stock of the scents and the feelings on his joints, he started to understand why.

"You didn't really catch a rest huh? How long have you been on your horse?" Hange’s voice was distant.

As he looked to his side, he saw Hange on her work bench, looking focused on something. "Didn't count..." He answered.

She stood up from her place on the bench and settled on a chair by his bedside. “It's morning now. You slept for more than half a day."

“Maybe I did see the sun set then rise a few times,” Levi admitted. "The oil you were burning then, that’s the same thing you put on me?” He asked in an attempt to digress.

Hange nodded. "I use it a lot now,” she said.

"Why?"

"It’s useful....It makes a good fire and it smells so good I think of you." A second later, Hange blushed and looked away, possibly at the realization of what she had just said. “I mean I made it for you of course I’d think of you.”

Levi reached for her hand and lightly pulled it towards himself, willing her to look at him again. "I like the smell. Actually, I liked it so much I followed it here and it brought me to you." That was something he probably would have regretted saying any other day. At that moment though, his only goal was to placate the already flustered Hange in front of him.

His attempt looked to be somewhat successful. She still seemed a little unsure but the toothy grin she gave him was an improvement at least. "I told you before, don't underestimate your sense of smell." Hange leaned over on the bed next to him and with that the scent only got stronger.

With that, their faces were only a few inches away from each other and Levi suddenly felt the need to cover that small distance. His neck was protesting that action though. It turned out his body still ached from his long journey.

"So I guess it was a good idea that I burned the oil every night.” Hange chuckled. “It was a long shot but I thought maybe you'd recognize it."

"You assumed I’d be back?”

“I had faith we’d meet again.” As she said it Hange covered that distance and their two lips met in one natural yet magical kiss. So magical that Levi felt it consume him, and warm him up from his lips to the tips of his toes. It tickled his throat and as he pulled away, he ended up letting out that deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding in.

All phenomena should have a scientific explanation. Hange has the analysis and deduction skills to figure them out.

Levi had wanted to ask here about it, about the way that kiss had shook him inside and out, leaving him giddy and almost shaking. He looked to her to see that she was also as surprised. She was blushing and not at all like she was in the mood to explain anything.

Or maybe she didn’t have an explanation for it. He thought as he saw the face she had made. Her eyes were wide and for a second, she was frozen on her spot before she quickly pulled away. Then it must be magic?

Logical reasoning brought him back to the conclusion that he had made so many times before. Maybe she is a witch.

Even if she were though, he didn’t care. That glimmer of magic he had felt at that moment would be his little secret.

Our little secret. Levi was quick to correct himself. He was sure she had felt it too after all.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #fanfic

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ughgclden · 3 years

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bee, love, don’t apologise, please, it’s okay, and first and foremost, are you alright?? i hope you’re taking care of yourself, love, but i understand, i don’t think there’s been a year since third grade that i haven’t gotten pneumonia in the winter. I hope you’re feeling alright!!

honestly, dead poets society is one of my only personality traits anymore, i find myself drawing parallels to it constantly, for no reason but i love thinking about it. i’ve watched it so many times at this point, it’s,,, concerning. those tests always take me way less time than they give me, and i used to feel really awkward, i remember i took a bio one once, four hours they gave me, 45 minutes in, i was finished, and the moderator didn’t believe me. i aced it too, like the silly little neil kinnie i am. i’ve gotten used to the ‘worse’ side of being a neil kinnie, and honestly, now that my mum isn’t as controlling about everything as she used to be, it’s easier to deal with. i remember once, i’d gotten an 89 in algebra, and she threatened to pull me out of the fall show. that was a neil perry moment if i ever had one lol. the biggest thing these days is just imposter syndrome, imposter syndrome like oh you’re not hispanic enough, but also, you’re not queer enough, nonbinary enough, things like that. It’s exacerbated some days, but i try.

i watched the it movies on my cousin’s hbo,,, i may or may not have used it without her permission since she forgot to log out of my computer, but that’s neither here nor there. i remember having such a hard time taking the first one seriously initially, because of all the new kids on the block jokes, having a mum who was obsessed with them made it hard, especially when i actually got them all- in truth, the only midnight premiere i’ve been able to make was the force awakens, and i had school the next day too. i’m definitely a richie kinnie, and i have the internalised homophobia (only towards myself though) to prove it /hj my waterbottle has both a sticker of neil on it and a sticker of the r + e carving on it. in case there was any doubt about me lmao. stan kin makes sense for you, honestly, i can see it, i can see it.

okay so listen- no really, i’d bought them with the intention of only drinking half of one that night and spreading them out like that, but then came 9:45pm, and i had a research paper (on womens’ pockets/lack thereof) due at 10am that i simply hadn’t even started, so i downed them all in an hour and got the paper turned in at 5:56 in the morning. but i scare you huh? /hj bee, you’re too sweet, in truth, i’m fairly inelegant, but i try, as for the comforting and cosy, i’ll take you at your word, since that is something only someone interacting with me could discern. i do try to be kind to others for the most part. mainly i think because i’m usually on the other end of mean people.

i’m just perceptive like that bee, i dunno what to tell you, something just tells me, you know? /j and thank you, i always feel a little silly talking about it, because most of the tattoos i want are dead poets society tattoos, i guess some part of me, within the part of me that feels so incredibly tied to it, feels as if if i were able to get a tattoo i’d owe it to the movie in some way, if that makes any sense. i’ve already begged a friend of mine to go with me to get my first once i get to new york, the question though, is what to get first. i’ve got time to make a decision (for once in my life) i just spend a lot of time thinking about it.

honestly, i have never known a school rule to make sense. banning ripped jeans? banning dyed hair? it’s almost as if if they don’t stifle everything natural about kids expressing themselves they dont feel like they’re doing anything. but i digress. the same-sex couple rules were. awful. 12 year old me had enough going on without having an administrator yell at my friend and i for hugging in the courtyard and not leaving until we were a foot apart, but hey.

okay, jumping over a fence to go to a mcdonalds? how coming of age indie movie manic pixie dream girl of you /hj

200k words, is that a challenge? also ahaha not at all like my italian uncle up there just opened a ‘pizzeria’ /hj but mob!star au? might be a project i should start… granted, i’m not as good a storyteller as you, but i can try.

when i was little, i wanted to revolutionise things, i guess. i even actually wrote out a campaign, i wonder if its still somewhere. thank you for believing in me, but these days, bee, i’m thinking less about changing the world, and more about making it the next few weeks, and then the ones after that. little star was aware of so much, but also so little. i wonder what they’d think of me now, honestly.

i did, in fact, teach archery, it was so fun but my arms got SO SORE, and the kid who challenged my archery skills seemed surprised when i actually,, hit the bullseyes. my inner susan was happy then. incidentally the experience is also why i made a playlist called “touchstarved and wanting to teach you to shoot a bow” which low-key slaps when i’m lonely. and bee omg i cannot believe you said im better than susan pevensie i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life thank you- and yes, yes it was named aslan, however did you guess? /j prince caspian<33333

i’ll let you know my results from the tournament, as soon as they come out, and i say this having just put on pjs after taking off my suit, and sitting in the room with my cat in my dear evan hansen hoodie, frantically refreshing the results page because i’m anxious and impatient.

i hope you have a good night, with fitful and restful sleep, i’m sorry this got to be so long, but you know me, i certainly can talk. i’m honestly shocked i even made it to finals, considering i was running off four hours of sleep, having gone to bed at three last night. whoops.

all my love, hugs, and a warm mug of tea,

yours,

star✨

p.s i said yes so that?? happened?? it honestly feels surreal but we’re not gonna be in the same place anymore come the end of this year, so that’ll be something to deal with

P.p.s might just start adding spanish or latin or russian phrases to these if i keep having to translate your cute french bee /lh /hj

star my love, i know you said don't apologise, but i think the word 'sorry' makes up about 60% of my vocabulary. i'm okay!! was just a bit icky, but luckily i've recovered now!!

that's so nice - and again, makes so much sense for you. i think you would work perfectly in welton, i know it. i love bringing the messages from that film into my own life, as silly as it may sound. i'm astonished, and so fucking jealous of you. i used to finish tests maybe half an hour early, but hours is so impressive??? fun fact i did finish my physics final in about 45 minutes and slept for the other hour <3 neil would b proud my love!!! oh my god - i'm so sorry that happened??? but that is also so neil kinnie??? it seems futile me saying this, but i assure you that you are hispanic enough, and queer enough, and non-binary enough. you are enough, period. more than enough even. imposter syndrome is the worst, and i'm so so sorry you're dealing with it.

she did that to herself, you just saw an opportunity /lh a midnight premiere of the force awakens sounds so cute though omg - i hope you had the absolute best time. the r + e carving actually broke me. as a die hard reddie shipper since 2017, seeing the movie make it basically canon?! had me a mess in the cinema.

you are ridiculously comforting and cosy, everything about you feels like a warm hug from a familiar face and i love it. and the way you write is so smooth, it makes me think of a quill smoothly gliding across parchment, the deep black ink unsmudged and pristine. that seems a little pretentious of me, but oh well.

i also want some dps tattoos!! i desperately want "and still we sleep" from todd's poem, and was also so so tempted to get an outline drawing of meeks + pitts dancing on the roof. i love that, and i can't wait until the day you get it, whichever one it may be. my one concern is becoming addicted to them and making my bank account suffer - at least my piercing obsession is a little easier to fund /hj

i've NEVER gotten that - they claim it's 'distracting' but how on earth would it be?? when i got to college, no one was distracted by my dyed hair, and i certainly wasn't distracted by other people's outfits or painted nails. you were yelled at. for hugging. a friend.. what the fuck is wrong with these people??

just call me ramona flowers star /j it was possibly the highlight of my school career, sans hiding in the back room of the music room to avoid a maths test

i bet you're an amazing storyteller, if these letters are anything to go by. it would be a new york times best seller, i know it

we all have to take things one step at a time, i think. that's the only way i really get through things if i'm honest. one day after another and the cycle repeats. i love wondering what young me would think of me now - i'd probably be intimidated of myself, but i like to think i'd be proud that i'm still here, pursuing something i love

that playlist. sounds nothing short of sheer perfection. i too am touch starved and want to teach someone to shoot a bow - even though i.. cannot shoot a bow... but i can wield a sword so, it's close enough.

i saw your message about the tournament results - im so fucking proud of you!!!! you deserve it so so much and i couldn't be happier for you. see, your words and ideas are changing the world, even if you don't realise it.

ps; that is so fun???? omg im so happy for you star, you deserve tis <33 i hope towards the end of this year whatever happens leaves you both happy, no matter how far the distance.

pps; omg no.. please don't do that.. aha that would be awful... definitely wouldn't make my heart race.. haha not at all

all of my love, star. pardon the pun, but you are out of this world ;) i'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes;

il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé <3

#asks <3 #anon asks!#star anon #long post

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creativeskullcreations · 3 years

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HTaHHQ Episode 3: The Vengeance of an Artist (part 2)

And here's the final part! Looks like the prank went pretty well, and Stacy's warmed up to another Puppet. At least, to the point where she won't run in fear. Maybe, she'll even help him with more stuff in the future.

Next episode will be out... idk. Might be the next thing I write actually. Until then, hope y'all have a good time. :D

"Miss Stein, I have a job for you."

"I don't have to do any jobs for you." Stacy told him, voice kept deliberately even. Nick felt a little put out, holding Scout up by her arm. The handpuppet just hung there,

"You doing one for Daisy." he argued, pointing at the little blue annoyance. Stacy huffed and, to his shock, stalked forward to outright snatch the smaller Puppet from his grasp.

"Don't hold her like that!" She admonished, settling Scout on her head. "Daisy will kill you if you hurt her."

'How odd.' He thought, watching Stacy handle the little cretin. Outwardly, he sighed. "Yes yes, I'm well aware of her temper. Now, come along. We have a job to do."

"We have to wait here for Mary." Stacy told him sternly, and he smirked.

"Oh, don't worry about her. She'll be busy for quite a while yet."

In the writers' room, Mary slammed her hands on her desk in frustration, a mess of papers spread out in front of her. "Why the fuck does he always wait until Friday to request plot and script changes?!"

"She'll be done soon enough, but it gives us enough time for you to help me." Nick told Stacy, who frowned. This wasn't good at all.

"... I still need to stay with Danny though." She tried, desperate to find any reason to refuse. This wasn't at all like when Scout took her to the playroom.

"He can come with and help." Nick told them, turning and starting to wheel away. "Now, come along. We're wasting time."

Danny seemed happy enough to tag along, but Stacy kept a tight grip on his hand as they followed Nick down the hall and to the elevator by the door. He inserted his key card, and then stood aside to let the kids on first. Stacy climbed into the tiny box nervously. The only reason she was deciding to trust him was because she knew the playroom was up there, and she could hide in there with Danny if needed.

Up, up, up they went, to the highest floor. And then down the winding halls to a plain door with a hazard sign and the words KEEP OUT underneath it in bright red. It was also covered in various science themed stickers, like cartoonish beakers full of bright colors, and various medical tools. It didn't take a genius to know who slept in here.

"Why are we outside of Riley's bedroom?" Stacy asked, and then immediately regretted it when Nick coughed lightly into his fist. That was the cue that he was about to go into a monologue. She recognized it, because he used to do it at least once a episode in the show.

"Well, since she stole my beloved paints, I've decided to do some research into her "science", and found that replacing her beakers with these ones made of sugar glass will be hilarious." He held out the beakers, and scoffed when he noticed Stacy's look. "Oh don't give me that look, she keeps all her dangerous chemicals elsewhere. She just likes to keep her beakers for the show up here where it's "safe". It'll be great when they melt during Monday's filming."

"And why do you need me?" The girl asked. She fought the urge to cross her arms and tap her foot, though her impatience still leaked into her voice.

"I'm banned from Riley's room." Nick deadpanned, and it took everything Stacy had to not facepalm. Of course. "Also, Danny told me you're good at breaking into places you're not supposed to be."

"Danny! That's a secret!" She rounded on him, feeling her face go hot.

"But Nick asked!" The boy insisted unapologetically. "And besides, you said it was a good skill."

"No, I said it was a good skill to know, not a good skill by itself. Also, stop telling people stuff about me!" She looked mad, and Nick thought that was a good thing. Certainly a better look then the scared little girl he and the others usually saw. Now if he could just encourage her to lose the baggy shirts... but no. Plan the makeover for another time. For now, it was time for revenge!

He cleared his throat, wheeling closer and holding the box of beakers out. "Will you do it, or not?" He asked bluntly, and Stacy crossed her arms.

"I am not getting involved in your stupid little-"

"I'll give you fifty dollars." He whipped out the fifty from a hidden pocket in his sweater, and the girl stopped mid sentence. After a beat she snatched the bill, turning and crouching in front of the door. She tucked the money under her right glove, pulling out a couple of slim tools as she did so.

"I can't believe I'm selling myself for a fifty." She muttered as she unlocked the door. It was surprisingly simple, and it made her feel uneasy as she put the tools away. She grabbed the box of beakers, then handed off Scout. She peered inside, noting the lack of Riley or Rosco. "It looks empty." She told Nick, who waved her on.

With a nervous swallow, she entered the too bright room, the door closing most of the way behind her. There was a large table in the middle, and a messily made bed shoved in one corner. The walls were covered in shelves that were full of books on all sorts of subjects. Any other time, and she would've loved to see just what kinds of books were there. But, she had a job to do.

She crossed to the shelf that held the box of beakers, and quickly swapped it for the identical fakes. Holding the box of real beakers close, she crossed the room back to the door. she heard something open behind her, Riley's voice drifting through. Thinking quick, she ducked under the table, hopeful it would be enough.

"Let's see, if we do the mentos experiment again that should be good enough. Could have the kiddies make volcanoes..." She muttered as she wheeled past. Stacy stayed huddled down, hands over her mouth to muffle her breathing. She watched the stand stop by a shelf, followed by the sound of fabric hitting fabric as she threw something to the bed. "Maybe baking soda? That might work better. Or maybe as a comparison between the two... Yes! That would be fantastic for an experiment!" Pencil against paper, and then the sound of things being moved. Stacy threw a desperate look towards where the door was still ajar.

Technically, Stacy could sneak out if she was quick. Riley was still talking to herself, and seemed distracted enough. But, she didn't know which way the Puppet scientist was facing. If she was facing the door, Stacy would be caught immediately, and then they'd all be in deep dookie. And she couldn't check, because, again, deep dookie if she was caught.

But, she couldn't just sit there for forever. And so, with a deep, quiet breath, Stacy leaned carefully out from under the table, just enough to check where Riley was looking. To her luck, it looked like her attention was completely absorbed by the books. A glance back at the door showed it had opened a little bit wider, with Scout, Nick, and Danny all peering in at her. Okay, she could work with this.

Carefully, she set the box of beakers down with as little noise as possible. With any luck, they wouldn't be noticed under the table. She then resettled into a runners starting position, noting how Nick was on her left and Danny on her right. 'Perfect.'

With a bang she burst through the door, grabbing Nick's sweater while scooping her brother up in her right arm. She managed to turn and drag them both out of sight as a startled "What the-" followed her out of the room. She turned another corner before finally letting go of both of them, hopeful that Riley hadn't seen them. And that she wouldn't try and follow them.

Unfortunately for Nick, he had been precariously balanced on one wheel during the escape. So, when Stacy let go of his sweater, he tipped over immediately with a loud thump. Scout landed on his chest, having been safely in his arms during the whole thing.

"That was totally awesome!" She yelled, as Stacy tried to shush her. She was still holding Danny, who was clapping, and thus didn't have a hand free to stop the Puppet from flinging herself at her face.

"Scout, shut up!" She hissed, grabbing her. She covered her mouth and waited to make sure Riley hadn't heard. "You can't let her know we're up here, or we could get in trouble."

"Oh please, like I'd let that happen." Nick had somehow righted himself, "standing" straight as ever and talking in a low voice. "Besides, you at least get to be up here since you became Scout's babysitter. Don't pout, it's true." He told Scout when she opened her mouth to object.

"Yeah, but we should still get out of here before she finds us!" Stacy insisted, ignoring Danny's pushing at her arm. She finally noticed as he kicked her side, jumping a bit and putting him down. "Oh, sorry Danny." She grabbed his hand, not wanting him to wander off and alert Riley.

"Right. Come along, this way." He led them down another hallway, a different way to get to the elevator without having to backtrack. This time there was no place to slide a key-card, which made sense. They were already in the forbidden area after all. They got inside, staying quiet the whole ride down.

Once back on the main floor, Stacy expected to go back to the Sound Stage, where her and Danny were before. Instead, Nick led them to the writing offices, and she watched as the Puppets and Danny disappeared into Mary's office. Stacy hung back, lingering in the hall to look around a little.

The doors had windows with frosted glass on them, like in the old noir movies her dad liked to watch. As a result she couldn't see inside, so instead she crouched down to peer into the keyhole of Mortimer's office.

The Puppet was there, bent over some paperwork, hat sitting on the desk next to him. Stacy thought he looked weird with it off, and not how he was supposed to. She looked away after a moment, content the magician wasn't doing anything potentially dangerous to anyone. Instead she finally followed the others into Mary's office, where her stepmother was berating Nick for something.

She stepped into the room, letting the door close softly behind her and cutting off Mary's tirade.

"Oh, there you are! Go get your stuff Stacy, we're leaving now before I commit a murder." She told the girl, who nodded and quickly left the room again. Danny followed a moment later.

"Mommy's mad." He told her, and she nodded as her voice rose behind them.

"-and how DARE you do this to me now! You know better! Do I really need to talk to Mortimer about this again?!"

"Real mad. Let's hurry so we can get home!" Together they rushed to collect their bags from Stacy's locker. However, during the walk back, she couldn't keep her mind from wandering to the little adventure earlier.

'Maybe Nick's not so bad. He didn't say anything about my lock picking skills at least. Maybe... Maybe I could do more jobs for him. Later.'

#htahhq #happy times at handeemen hq #nick nack #scout #stacy stein #riley ruckus #danny stein #hello puppets #fanfiction

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fangirlauthor · 4 years

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Lok Boarding School

For weeks now, the candy ban had caused student after student to burst into tears as their beloved sweets were taken from them by every teacher, including the Dean. The teachers were confused, not at why the students were so upset about their candy, because every teacher understood that, but because there seemed to be an endless supply of candy to be taken away.

The logic had been that a total candy ban would result in no candy in the school, but somehow candy seemed to be getting around anyway. The teachers, determined to find out where the candy was coming from, assigned a student to the task, since they hadn’t had any success finding the source on their own.

“So the Search for the Source of the Malevolent Candy that is Unhealthy for Students to Consume begins,” said one teacher when the decision was made.

This inspired the other teachers to glance over and give him the side eye, and even motivated one to say, “How about we just call it the Search for Candy? ‘The Search for the Source of the Malevolent Candy that is Unhealthy for Students to Consume’ is a bit lengthy and, frankly, denotes the drama otherwise present.”

So the Search for the Candy - or, rather, the Search for the Source of the Malevolent Candy that is Unhealthy for Students to Consume, began.

----

Deep in the halls of the esteemed boarding school, which sat on a cliff taller than its reputation, young Korra and her friend Bolin were hard at work in the library. Their teachers were pleased - to all, it looked as if they were determinedly studying the material, conferring together to learn the lessons being taught to their young minds. To their fellow students, it looked suspicious. Everyone knew Korra and Bolin never studied like they seemed to be studying right now - they did study, sometimes, but they got decent grades even if they didn’t, which annoyed almost everyone - and the fact that they hadn’t touched their schoolbooks made them all the more suspicious.

No one could do their homework without even glancing at the textbook or their notes, no one except Asami Sato, the star student at the school, the person who never broke the rules - or so it seemed to everyone, anyway. the truth was, Asami Sato broke the rules more than Bill - the resident trouble maker and lover of cabbages extraordinaire - but no one knew, because she never got caught.

By this time, Korra and Bolin were scribbling furiously on their papers, the computers being for the older students, and were talking very fast, very quietly. After a moment, they both stopped, glanced around in an obvious effort to act casual, stood up, gathered their things, and waved goodbye to the librarian, who looked dismayed that their study session hadn’t been longer.

From two opposite ends of the library, two people were watching closely. One of them Mako, and the other Asami Sato. Neither followed or glanced across the library to each other, instead, taking a few short, quick steps out the back of the library and into the hallway on the other side of the building.

Let the search begin, they thought.

Let the search begin, indeed.

----

Deep in the basement accessible only by teachers with a key and very determined students who are aware of secret passageways, an auction was taking place. On the table were two snickers bars, a giant twix, a caramel apple, and a medium-sized gray bag of mystery candy that sounded suspiciously like dum-dums. Students weren’t bidding money since the “sellers” didn’t accept it, so the hall was chaos as each student argued, yelled, and did their best to claim the candy for themselves or their friend group.

From one corner, a single student watched but did not participate. He was there to find out who the “sellers” were and where they were getting their candy, not buy himself any. Unfortunately, the situation was quickly diffused by the person guarding the candy - someone who Mako had already questioned and discovered that she had no part in the actual selling of the candy; she only guarded it until people figured out who got what.

Usually that took a while, but today was different - from another corner a girl walked up to Korra, the person guarding the candy, pulled her hat and scarf down far enough that Korra could see her face, said a few words that made Korra turn bright red, step aside, and allow the girl to take the candy.

Just like that, the auction was over. There were complaints, of course, but Korra and, likely, the “sellers” vanished before the crowd could get angrier, and the girl who had successfully procured the candy had left almost as quickly.

----

“We need to make a deal.” Asami Sato, the star student, was sitting across from Mako at a small table in the back of the library, hidden by towering shelves of books on all sides.

Mako eyed her suspiciously and did his best to make his voice lower and, therefore, more mysterious. “What for?”

“You’re trying to find the Source, I’m trying to find the Source, we can help each other out.”

“What d’you mean, the Source?”

Asami looked at Mako like he was an idiot. “The Source of the candy? The people “selling” the candy? What even have you been doing your entire search? Reading magazines?”

Mako blinked and decided that he should have figured that out without help. “What makes you think you can help me?”

Asami rolled her eyes. “First of all, stop doing that thing with your voice, it sounds ridiculous. Second of all, it’s not about what I can do for you but what we can do for each other. We both need to find the Source, great; I have more information than you’ll ever be able to find out, and I need an extra person if my plan is going to work.”

Mako frowned, cleared his throat so he could speak in his normal voice, and said, an air of caution in his voice, “What plan?”

----

Once again, the “sellers” were giving away candy. This time, there were two people watching from afar; both in one corner, unlike the last few times. And this time, they had a plan.

“Okay. Remember, I’m going to go up and set up a meeting with the “sellers” while you pretend to be an excited person in the crowd.” Asami jerked her chin toward where Korra was standing, guarding the candy that was currently up for grabs.

Before Mako could argue, question, or otherwise delay the completion of Asami’s plan, Asami pulled her scarf over her face and tipped her hat low so no one knew who she was.

It took her two minutes to convince Korra to set up a meeting with the “sellers,” the entirety of which took no effort on Asami’s part, except for deciphering what flustered Korra was saying, because that made things slightly more difficult.

Once the auction was over, Asami and Mako prepared for the next phase of their plan - it was time to find the source.

----

Sneaking into the basement at two in the morning to meet with secret candy “sellers” was a gamble on Mako and Asami’s part, but since one of them had been assigned to rooting out the Source and the other was known to the teachers as the person least likely to make trouble, they figured they wouldn’t get in too much trouble if they got caught.

Neither of them knew the secret passages as well as they would have hoped, but Asami had spent some time down there and knew how to get to the meeting point. (Asami spent most of her time focusing on not getting caught breaking the rules, whereas Mako tended to refuse to break the rules unless it was absolutely necessary.

In the small room that stored supplies that hadn’t been used in ages, the “sellers” awaited.

Now was the time.

----

Asami’s head was buzzing. She had been surprised when the “sellers” had revealed themselves, and even more surprised when they had offered to let Asami and Mako join them and the kitchen baker who had been supplying them with sweets. Not nearly as surprised as Mako had been when he found out his brother was running a secret candy smuggling business that supplied students with candy, but surprised.

It was late now, and Asami was almost sick from eating so much candy, but she couldn’t help - Mako and Korra and Bolin feeling the same way - feeling like she finally had some friends here.

And, though her ten year-old mind wasn’t thinking of it at the time, maybe feisty, flustered Korra would become something more, would turn out to be more...

Only time would tell where their friendship would go, how long it would last.

But they could at least enjoy it while it did.

#korra #asami #asami sato #korrasami #mako #bolin #lok au #legend of korra au #lok #legend of korra

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Would you be okay doing werewolf Duncan? I’m so thirsty for him that Id throw myself into the ocean. So werewolf Duncan fluff maybe? Smut if you want. Please? Thank you I love you bye

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

Of course, I am ok with writing about werewolf! Duncan, I love supernatural AU of any kind, so feel free to send more, also this one is the start of a series, I might writen when I have more time... but let me know if you would interested into knowing more or not...

As always... I hope you’ll enjoy it and more importantly sorry for taking so much time!

Also I am tagging @dyns33 because she has a wonderful werewolf! AU and also @coollangdon since her sugar daddy/werewolf! Duncan is my favorite thing ever!

And also @blakewaterxx because she might like this!

WARNINGS: Death of a Character, Prejudice, Past Trauma, Hateful Relationship, Supernatural AU!, WItch! Reader (Mention of Coven), Sex, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Squirting, Scratching and Growling, Unprotected sex (WRAP IT CHILDREN!), Mention of Heat and Werewolf Issues.

You still remembered the “High Priestess” ritual.

It had been the first moment ever when you had felt like you truly fit somewhere, in the excitation and the happiness of having finished a new journey and a new one starting the following day, when you would be told where you would testify your devotion to the goddess.

You had hoped it would be California, you loved the sun and the beaches and couldn’t wait to pass your time in one of its cities, alongside the fact that the treatment of witches there wasn’t as bad as in many other places, such as DC.

Madison had taunted you, about your choice, meanwhile Zoe and Queenie had shot grapes at her and Nan had giggled at the entire scene.

You and Mallory had danced till your feet hurt and Coco had lectured you uselessly about the calories in the pieces of cakes you had eaten.

And then things had started turning for the worse.

Cordelia had pushed a crown of flowers onto your hair, each flower chosen just for you, showing all your abilities: orchids, mignonettes and laurels, meaning devotion, value and talent.

And you had bowed to her, since she was the Supreme, and your boss through every sense, but also some kind of show of respect towards the person that had brought you out of the darkest place in your life, showing that you should never ever be afraid of your true nature.

You should have guessed that this was going to end up badly when you saw some kind of sadness on Cordelia’s face, but you had thought that she was just sad that you would be going out of Robinchaux and she would miss you, as a dear student of hers.

But then she had told you had chosen to be at DC, and although you hadn’t been able to protest at the ceremony, the following day you had stormed inside her office, as a true fury:

“You can’t make me go there!” you were aware that you sounded like a little child, but you hadn’t cared.

If you had to go back to DC, you would have rather stayed back with Madison at Robinchaux, taking care of new recruits, something which you dreaded, but still liked more than having to deal with snobbish werewolves who thought that witches were the bane of their existences.

“Your father died, yesterday, (Y/N)” told you Cordelia, her lips pursed together in an extremely serious expression, meanwhile her hands were joined in front of her, making her seem older, as if the thought of delivering such a bad news to you, hurt her more than you.

You had to process the phrase for a few minutes, before it truly settled.

And even when it did, it didn’t seem believable.

You had talked with your father a few days ago and he had told you that he was fine, he might have been developing a cold, but he was fine.

And he was extremely proud of you for having succeeded in becoming an ‘High Priestess’.

“I know that you don’t like it when I mention your mother… but believe me… she would have been proud of you, little princess”.

“All that matters to me, dad, is that you are proud of me” you had replied, not wanting to talk about the witchy mother that had left you on your father’s doorstep, after she had gotten pregnant with you on a one night stand with your father.

It wasn’t a matter of love, it was simple biology, but your father hadn’t ever let it weigh on your shoulder, taking you care and loving you as if you had been truly wanted and searched.

“And I am, sweetheart!” he had chanted, his hands coming to clap and you had smirked.

“Love you dad”.

“Love you, too, girlie”.

Those couldn’t be the last words that you had uttered to your father.

This must have to be some kind of twisted joke.

“… they found him last night, he had a heart-attack” explained Cordelia as if the thought that he had died of natural causes brought you some comfort “DC doesn’t have their alpha anymore, and I know who will raise after your father, it isn’t a dynasty that loves witches…”.

And you knew it from experience.

You wouldn’t be able to take over the role of your father in the werewolf community, since you were only partially a werewolf and hadn’t showed any part of that legacy.

Only pure-blooded wolves could attend the highest roles, hence you weren’t his heir, and since your father didn’t have any other children (he had been low key faithful to your mother, something that made you feel sick to your stomach, since she could have cared less), the title of “alpha” would go the most famous family in the city, the Shepherds.

You had known them all your life, mostly Duncan.

You had both come from high-end families and growing up as such till the day you had been shunned by the community because you had started making magical tricks.

One day you were grabbing onto some kitchen tools and the following day you were magically moving around those same kitchen tools, just shaking lightly your head and hands.

Everybody would have expected your father, the alpha of the community, coming from a long dynasty of pure-blooded wolves, to throw you away in the nearest community of witches, where you would grow up on your own with your own kind.

He should have remarried and have had other children, pure-blooded ones, at least.

But your father had kept you, treating you as a beloved daughter, wanting you desperately and loving you despite your birth flaw which hadn’t ever been that for him: he was the only werewolf that you had trusted in your life.

Beside Duncan.

But that was another story.

Since you had grown with the Shepherds’ only child, and their beloved heir, it was kind of expected for you two to be interested in the other, something that only a mate bond had intensified and it was natural that as teenagers you had been a couple, although his parents didn’t approve because you were partly.

You had loved him deeply and stupidly, thinking that you had fallen in love.

But soon you had discovered that, at least, for Duncan, it wasn’t nothing more than a fling and the entire time he had faked the emotions he had showed you, in a rather ridiculing situation that had brought you on the verge of losing your last brand of hope.

It was the night after that your father had bought you a ticket for New Orleans and packed you a suitcase.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you here suffering anymore, although it saddens me because I never want you to leave my side… but I just can’t have you feeling like this… I don’t want to bind you in this shithole of a city”.

At first you had thought that it was the worst idea ever, but then as you discovered more and more about your origins as a witch, you had slowly settled and created your own group at Robinchaux, ending up with better friends than ever that you loved and who loved you, back.

You had sworn of never going back there, but apparently…

… you had to.

“I know that this is too much to ask” Cordelia started, meanwhile she fidgeted with her hands, wondering whether she should have done something for you as hugging you or holding you as you trembled, but she kept on being unable, mostly when you were frozen in front of her, your breath barely audible.

“… ‘Delia, I can’t go back” your voice trembled with a frailty you hadn’t had in so many times “… I swore it to him, I owe it to him”.

“He needs you to rein in the situation: you know how the thing will be if the Shepherds take the entirety of the power, they’ll ban witches and try to find a way to destroy us, you know that as much as I love you, my first duty is to the community”.

“I know it” although her decision didn’t hurt you any less.

For any witches the life of the coven, mattered more than the one of a single.

Which wasn’t as different from what the werewolves did.

You, witches just didn’t care about the family matters as much as they did.

For you it was a sisterhood, and for them it was family

“I am going to let you have the weekend, before you come to a decision; I won’t be able to change the location, but you are more than welcome to remain here, in case, teaching is a noble job”.

You didn’t despise teaching, although you weren’t sure if you could handle any kind of brats, but you knew you were born for being a High Priestess, the one who leads a coven.

In the end, the following day you were on a train for DC, having chosen the path that had been laid out for you, with the knowledge that you wouldn’t act like a coward, running away from the problem, instead of fighting it, as you did, as soon as you were able to settle in your new role.

The first days were the hardest, mostly because you didn’t have to simply deal with a city without a leader, but with the private loss of your father, which hurt you much more than anything, but you were forced to show a neutral face, constantly pushing the pain away.

And alongside the pain, came the fact that you were secretly suspecting that your father’s death was an actual murder, since your father had always been a man extremely healthy and even the legal doctor proved to you when she showed you the body, she had found no trace of venomous substances, in his body.

But not only you didn’t trust anyone, anymore, but you knew it all too well that there were some poisons that could evoke such an effect, simulating a heart-attack and leaving no traces in the body.

You had studied them and knew how to create them.

But you had to thread lightly on this path, since not only you had the aversion of the main werewolves family, Shepherds included, but it had also been difficult to gain the other witches’ respect, mostly due to you half-being as a werewolf.

“She is one of them, she won’t understand our troubles” you had heard them utter, meanwhile you passed them through many reunions of the Council, the reunion where all magical creatures met together to talk about important matters.

But you had managed to get their respect in the end, proving to be one of them, alongside gaining the favor of many other magical creatures, since you had started solving some of their problems, whereas werewolves, a rather closed community, didn’t care for anything other than themselves.

Who hadn’t accepted you, in fact, were the werewolves, and with the Shepherds family running them you hadn’t expected it to be easy, although Duncan had showed himself to be much more malleable than his relatives, with you, mostly about the matters that belonged to fights between magical creatures.

You acted as a moderator for the werewolves, meanwhile Duncan, who had through the time become the Sheriff of the community, was the armed arm of your intervention, and although the werewolves still ruled, you had managed to bring some changes, mostly to soften some rules against the other magical creature.

Your relationship, aside from work, with Duncan was rather cold, mostly due to your behavior, with the constant refusal to believe thoroughly to him, avoiding him whenever you could, although the mate bond between you two had intensified due to the nearness.

You were just unable to let go of the past: you and Duncan had started dating when you were sixteen, although you weren’t the most popular girl, unlike him who could have had anyone he wanted, and it had been a sweet romance, painfully awkward due to your shyness and his need to impress others.

But you had loved him, in the naivest way a sixteen-year old could.

But he hadn’t cared for feelings or interests: it had been an easy move to control you and your father, and to humiliate you one day, when he had grown tired of the game.

And although you had both grown up in adults, you weren’t able to distance him from the cruel teenager, who had told everyone all your fears and insecurities.

Duncan on his part hadn’t shown many thoughts about the past and many times he had asked you for a coffee or such thing.

‘To have a little chat on what we missed’ he had justified it, looking at you with eyes full of intensity.

‘We are not a couple, anymore, Duncan, and we are adults enough to know not to step on each other’s feet’.

Still it had happened more and more frequently that you were pushed together, both the heirs to two big empires, with enough story that it wasn’t easy to disentangle each other from the mate bond.

Like that day.

You had woken up with a strange sadness washing over you, not belonging to you, since your day was supposed to be pretty nice.

It was a day off from the entire bullshit of DC, you had enough time to make your favorite breakfast and to read a bit, meanwhile you planned your monthly report for Cordelia, and you knew she would be proud of knowing that many rules were being changed and witches were feeling more at ease in the city.

But nothing you did, helped you in some way or some kind.

Hence, since the mate bond allowed you to share your emotions with your mate, you knew it was Duncan’s.

You tried to work through it, but it became more and more painful and worst of all it made you not focus properly on anything, and when you accidentally sent Cordelia an empty email, having deleted what you had written, for four times, it became clear that you wouldn’t be very much active.

So, you thought about getting to Duncan’s house and tell him to shut his fucking emotion, before you got a headache because of it.

But as you parked in the luxurious Shepherd mansion, you found only Annette opening your door, who looked like she had gone through a hurricane, her pristine condition being horridly tainted by something that looked like regret.

“I need to have a word with your son” you mumbled, not meeting her eyes and feeling again like when you had visited Duncan at his house, for the first time: Annette had never made you feel like everything might be more simple, constantly pushing obstacles between you and Duncan.

“He isn’t home” and she almost shoved the door against your face, just for you to enchant it to stay open.

“Then where is he?” you mumbled, not one of withholding the truth, alongside the fact that you hated this entire situation of being bound to the only person you couldn’t stand.

And meanwhile you kept the door open, magically, you took a good look at Annette, seeing that not only she was extremely less cheerful than usually, but she had probably cried, and this was your obvious cue that shit was going down between her and Duncan.

“I don’t honestly know” her answer was extremely truthful although it clearly pained her to speak so you didn’t ask much more, immediately moving away from the threshold, knowing all too well how these things went.

Although you and your father loved each other deeply, you had also fought many times, mostly because of Duncan now that you thought about this.

“… I am going to look for him, call me if he comes back home” it was more a thought than an actual suggestion since you knew that you and Annette didn’t have any kind of communication outside of the Council, but some part of you couldn’t help but be worried for Duncan.

Although it might have seemed cliché-y, Duncan had an amazing respect for his mother, and he cherished her suggestions more than his own ideas, something that had bothered you and still did, but you couldn’t hear yourself over that aching feeling Duncan was sharing with you.

You had lost so many years of Duncan’s growth that you weren’t sure where to start, but you thought about what Duncan had liked back when he was a sixteen year old with you, and you were brought back to an afternoon when you had chosen to share with Duncan your favorite place on Earth.

A little garden in an abandoned area and you had remembered how much Duncan had protested about the fact that the house was probably haunted, and you were going to be arrested for trespassing.

‘Is the rebel Duncan scared’ you had cooed sarcastically, meanwhile you went through the garden to reach a pretty little wood which had reminded you of the mythical wood you read in Greek hymns and poems, where the gods met humans.

He hadn’t cared in the slightest about anything anymore, rushing to your side, and taking your hand, meanwhile you reached the point you had chosen for a romantic pic-nick setting everything down, with Duncan’s help, and although looking back at it you knew it was all fake, you felt like Duncan had been truly happy, in that moment.

And he had kept going back to ‘your place’.

So, you thought about starting your research there and were greeted with a correct suspicion since the feeling intensified as you moved through the garden to reach the wood, and when you entered, Duncan’s presence was heavy onto you, but you didn’t see him anywhere.

Then the wolf appeared from nowhere.

You knew Duncan’s wolf form, because when you were younger, him and his friend would get drunk and turn into wolves, since they didn’t have control on themselves anymore, and even if it was extremely dangerous, they wouldn’t do much more than sleep the hangover off.

And many times, you had been the one onto who Duncan had slept the hangover off.

The reason why your father didn’t like Duncan was because many times you hadn’t come home, just to help Duncan through this.

He thought at first, when you had simply shrugged it off of passing the night at Duncan’s house, that you were having sex, and with you being his only daughter, and his wolfish instincts being extremely protective, he had dreaded the thought of Duncan deflowering you.

But he understood that many girls your age went through these experiences, and that it would be extremely overbearing of him of stopping you from doing your own experiences, on your own.

And then one day, he had caught you trying to get an half-wolf Duncan to his house, and that night it was the first time you had thoroughly fought and it was the first and last time that you had felt like you were different also from him.

‘… he might hurt you! Werewolves are already difficult when they turn, fucking smashed and turned isn’t a good combo!’.

‘He loves me dad, he wouldn’t hurt me!’.

You thoroughly knew that you had sounded like a drama queen.

‘What you don’t understand is that witches will be for ever werewolves’ enemies! He might not reason and hurt you, thinking you are the fucking enemy! Why can’t you just understand it and be fucking normal!’.

You hadn’t talked with him for a month because of that.

But this was all to say that you quickly recognized Duncan’s wolf shape and weren’t afraid in the slightest till you saw him launching himself towards you, looking like he had seen a prey.

You tried to distance yourself, but the mate bond anchored you in place, alongside the confusing emotions crashing through your head, holding you in a hypnotizing grip and making you almost sick.

And definitely unable to move away, Duncan launched himself against you, pushing you to the ground.

He didn’t only weight, effectively stealing your breath, but he also started trying to scratch your neck, which you covered, raising your arms and swiftly being cut by his paws, a scream of pain exiting your mouth, meanwhile you tried to conjure any kind of strength to push him off with your legs.

With magic it would have been easy, had you been able to focus on anything else that wasn’t losing your life and for the first time in your whole life, you were afraid of Duncan: he had lost the control of himself and lost himself in the wolf.

“Duncan… shit… get over it!” you tried, hoping that your voice would have some effect on him, but he kept his attack, even growling at you and showing you his sharp teeth, meanwhile you tried to kick him back, finally understanding why your father had been so damn worried “… I am (Y/N), your mate, you stubborn asshole”.

This somehow got him to stop his actions and you landed effectively a kick that sent him away, enough to hold your breath, meanwhile you murmured and enchantment of protection, although maybe you should have tended to the gashes on your arms, blood dripping copiously from them.

You definitely felt light-headed, but had to deal with Duncan first, who was squealing on the ground, in pain, not only for your kick, but because you felt himself shifting through his wolf form, and back to his human one.

You went from a state of confusion to embarrassment as Duncan appeared on the ground, naked.

Certainly, something had grown in ten years.

Focus, (Y/N).

“… you fucking ass” you muttered under your breath, meanwhile Duncan rolled onto his side, painfully pushing his knees onto his stomach, in a fetal position.

You knew that the transformation, mostly if happening suddenly, was extremely painful and certainly took quite some time

Enough that you retreated to get a blanket for him, knowing that some senses were dulled, meanwhile others were intensified, and you wanted him to keep some semblance of modesty.

As you covered him he seemed to completely get himself back, breathing deeply, spitting out earth, probably eaten in his wolf-journey.

“… that sucked” he mumbled, gently curling around the cover, instinctively hiding himself under it, for which you were thankful.

“You have probably pissed the ghosts haunting the house” you replied, although you were sure he wouldn’t understand your humor, meanwhile he adjusted himself in a sitting position.

“I thought you said this place wasn’t haunted, when we came!” he surprised you, actually remembering the past and effectively making you blush.

“… I might have lied” no you knew that the place wasn’t haunted, because you had actually been at haunted place and this didn’t peg you as such.

He sent you a terrorized look, highly exaggerated, that made you erupt in a laughter, one that hadn’t happened in a long time, making Duncan join quickly, although he kept his gaze onto you, as if he wasn’t truly amused by your laugh, but he was enamored with it.

You managed to led him to your car, barely covered by the simple blanket.

“Can’t believe that the old man let you drive this” mumbled Duncan looking around, and probably remembering that time, during that month of not talking, when you had stolen the key of your father’s precious vintage car, just to run away with Duncan and to decide to come back by dawn.

Your father was waiting for you on the threshold and had immediately hugged you.

“… it was either me or destroying it” you mumbled, meanwhile you quickly turned the ignition on, and pushed the manual brakes, you tried not to crush because you were unfocused, due to Duncan’s presence.

“I would have gotten it destroyed…” he joked, and you jabbed him with a slight push onto his shoulder “… you do remember that time we almost crashed against a tree, because you had forgotten the brakes”.

“You were kissing me, you were the one who almost got us to crash against a tree” you replied, shooting him a meaningful look, which got a playful glint in his eyes “…where can I bring you?”.

“My apartment, the one outside the city” he explained, his gaze suddenly shifting in front of the horizon, which got you a bit sad, for him, because he clearly looked like he was going through a rough period, and you knew how much they would bring you down.

“Don’t you have some friend or ex-girlfriend who doesn’t hate you, where I could drop you off?” you asked trying to keep your tone neutral, and your gaze on the road “… you have just gone through an unscheduled transition, it isn’t good for you to be alone”.

“Well the fact is that I actually want to be alone…” his tone didn’t admit any reply, but you didn’t allow him to stay that way.

“… I am not leaving you alone, right now, Duncan, I might not like you, but you look like you went through hell and I am not leaving you alone, ok?”.

“You don’t have to worry about me” his tone was almost whine-y and you turned around just swiftly to make sure he knew that you were meaning what you said.

“I don’t worry about you, but you are a nice Sheriff and I don’t want to have to deal with Annette” at the mention of the mother, Duncan’s mouth straightened in a thin line, but he simply nodded, surrendering to your idea, meanwhile he shifted on the opposite part of his car seat.

He seemed almost sleepy and when you opened the door to help him out, he was slightly startled but didn’t accept your hand to move out, which honestly annoyed you, but you tried not to show it

You cast some more protection spells all around your house, since you thought that Duncan might not like being caught half-naked, walking in his enemy’s house.

“Sat down on the sofa, I am getting you some clothes and towels so that you can shower a bit, you smell of shit”.

“I might have stepped on some, in the forest” his tone was apologetic, and although you wanted to keep on being pissed with him, you just shook your head and moved to collect some of your father’s clothes and some towels, which you left in the bathroom.

You didn’t have to show Duncan the way, since he seemed to remember it

After your father had accepted your relationship with Duncan, he had suggested that instead of getting drunk and crashing yourself against trees, you stayed at home when he had meetings of the Council.

Once your father had gotten himself over the ‘you are deflowering my daughter’ phase, he had seemed to be finally able to accept Duncan, who he had treated as a son, and Duncan had seemed to appreciate the treatment, since he, himself, didn’t have a strong father figure.

You had lost your virginity on one of those nights, when your father was away from the Council: you still remembered Duncan having stolen a bottle of awful red wine, paired badly with pizza and fries, but you hadn’t cared, mostly because you had loved him so so much by that time (you now blamed the wine), and after the dinner had lead him to your room, gently kissing him, meanwhile he treated you like a princess.

It had been awkward and painful, you didn’t want to lie.

Although Duncan had had more experience, it hadn’t prepared you both from what had been going down, but at the end of the night, you hadn’t cared and you had simply loved him with all your heart and had told him, receiving no answer.

Again, you hadn’t cared.

Your sixteen year old-self was an idiot.

Meanwhile you were thinking this, you were startled by the low whistle of your teapot, signaling that your water for the tea was ready and Duncan appeared in a simple white shirt and blue sweatpants on the threshold, probably startled by the teapot like you.

“Can I help you?”.

A thrill due to the cold air in your house went down your spine, probably due with all the time you had spent outside of it, and since it was pretty big and you lived alone, it wasn’t the nicest and definitely not the warmest.

“... can you start a fire, in the chimney?”.

He didn’t reply, getting himself to work and quickly moving away, already onto the little wardrobe where wood for the chimney was stored, meanwhile you collected the good silverware for the tea, knowing that Duncan wasn’t used to anything else.

“Do you want something to eat?”.

“My stomach is still trouble, but thank you for your offer” he replied immediately, meanwhile you brought the tea service in the room, already warmed up by the gentle cradling of the fireplace, where Duncan was setting up the latest logs of wood, and met you halfway onto the sofa.

He assumed a relaxed position on it, meanwhile you kept onto its handle, pushing your favorite mug in your hand, after you had offered one to Duncan, who sniffled it suspiciously.

“… what is it?” he asked, meanwhile you just gazed at him wickedly.

“A potion to make you forget who you are” although you were obviously joking, Duncan gawked at you, before you slumped a big gulp of whatever was in your mug “… it’s green tea idiot”.

Corrected with honey.

Duncan looked at you ashamed, and swiftly gulped down also a big drink, effectively burning his tongue and splutter half the tea on your floor, meanwhile you giggled.

“That is what you get for thinking that I would trick you in my home” you giggled giddy, strangely feeling like you had come back to when you and Duncan were nothing more than lovers “… that would mean too much trouble: can you imagine having to drag your body out… and again I don’t want to deal with Annette…”.

Duncan’s gaze shadowed and he quickly turned away, also pushing himself onto the handle of the sofa.

“Annette is not my real mother”.

Shock went through you, because you knew it was the truth, although Duncan hid his eyes from you.

You had never thought that whatever him and Annette had was something healthy, but you had always thought that you might not have been fair with her mostly because she had never liked you before, but it was extremely obsessive the way they looked for the other.

So, you knew perfectly how much it must have hurt Duncan.

“… I… didn’t know, Duncan” it was you who moved towards the middle, meanwhile Duncan pushed down on the table the mug, and hid his face turning it to the opposite side.

“Neither did I” his tone beheld anger and sadness and regret, all mixed together and it broke your heart, even more because you knew perfectly how he felt, because of the mate bond “… Claire, our opposition in the clan reunions brought up the fact that I needed to ask with Annette about ‘where I come from’. And I did, thinking that maybe my mother had cheated on my father… or… he had cheated on her… and… no, it turned out I am the maid’s son, she took over, because my real mother couldn’t take care of me”.

The Shepherds had never been the picture-perfect family, although they resembled it strongly, but you understood that this kind of revelation might have had a truly devastating effect on Duncan, who gently pushed himself onto his feet.

“… it was a bad idea to remain here” he mumbled, but you stopped him shooting out your hand to grab his effectively.

“She might not be your biological mother, but this doesn’t change that she brought up as her son, that is what makes family: we chosen to love another, no matter the fact that it’ll make us suffer”.

Your father had done it.

Your mother hadn’t.

So, you knew what Duncan was going through, you had been there.

“You don’t understand!” he shot back angered, his grip on your hand becoming painful and you felt that the violence had brought the cuts to open your mind, since it brought back the memories of the pain and your magic couldn’t hold it back “I am not a true Shepherd! I am just some fake nobody… now I understand why Bill said ‘I wasn’t one of them’ “.

You would have gladly punched Bill in that moment.

You would have gladly punched Billy in any moment.

“Duncan you are not being reasonable” you tried to calm him down, mostly because you didn’t want him to turn back, since it could be dangerous for his body and because the anger festering in the mate bond was making you sick and weak.

“Well… you wouldn’t be reasonable too, if you had discovered that all your life was a lie” he sputtered back, and you had enough.

“Well…. I did” you had enough “… I met my mother in a club of New Orleans, I knew it was her, because dad had a photograph of her, and one night, when I was out I found her… I thought that maybe she would have recognized me, she knew something about me… because dad kept sending her letters, but to her… I wasn’t nothing more than a stranger… did it hurt like my heart was being ripped form my heart? Fucking yes, I was the blood of her womb… and she wished I never existed. But I had my father”.

Duncan was looking at you in the eyes as if he was shocked: you had never talked about your mother, and it was as if you hadn’t ever cared about her, and Duncan had never asked: he hadn’t expected you to have such a complex relationship.

“… I never knew”.

“We weren’t on speaking terms for ten years, Duncan” you didn’t want this to weight on him “:..I know that this might be heavy on you, but you don’t have to forget about anything else, and the people around you. Annette might not be your mother, but she loves you…”.

“I just…” he huffed, lightly and you brought his hand in a gentle hold.

“You don’t have to be ok, I know it’ll take time, but you have me…” and you realized that you had let him see much more than your usual detached personality “… and others I am sure, now please let’s not talk about family anymore, ok?”

“Ok” he gently sit back in the sofa, comfortably snuggled against you, in the usual position you assumed as teenagers to cuddle, meanwhile a sudden embarrass washed over you, two, and you were almost thankful when blood appeared on your shirt and stained your sweater.

Duncan sniffled it immediately.

“Are you bleeding?” he asked, worried, before he reached for your arms, gently taking it in his hands so that he could examine it, and he raised your sweater, quickly revealing the gruesome cuts you had tried to heal with magic, although healing spells weren’t your favorite “Was I the one who did this? Shit, (N/N) I am so sorry…”.

You hadn’t heard that name in so long and that was probably why you were unable to react as Duncan quickly rushed out to get the first aid kid.

You had been the one who handled more bruises between the two, but Duncan knew where to get it, also, because mostly it held the pills you took on your period, when cramps hurt your body and you were unable to even get up to collect them.

The cut had stopped bleeding when Duncan walked in, worry shadowing his eyes, meanwhile he extremely delicately patched you up and you were only able to gawk at him, and when you shook yourself out of that, you just muttered.

“… I can heal myself, Duncan, you don’t have to….”.

“First of all… I know that I don’t have to, but I want to, and secondly, let me adjust what I broke…” his gaze became gently shy and almost sad, melancholy staring at you “… at least for what I can”.

You knew he was referring to the fact that had happened so many years ago, when he had broken your heart.

The one reason why, although your heart was shouting at you to kiss him and hug him and cuddle away his sadness, as you had always done when you were together, you just couldn’t.

You didn’t trust him.

You were definitely expecting him to break up your heart again.

“… it isn’t easy” you mumbled, as if you owed him an explanation.

“I know” he replied, looking at you in the eyes “… we were idiots”.

“You were an idiot” you retorted, kicking his shin lightly “… I was an amazing teenager”.

“You don’t obviously remember your mood swings, sweetheart” his reply got him another kick in his shins, which got him to improve his point, and giggle.

“You have lost your ‘sweetheart privileges’ a long time ago” you initiated the pillow fight, hitting him, meanwhile he put away the cotton wetted with alcohol to clean your wounds, to avoid a disaster, pushing you away, not even trying to fight to defend himself from you.

In the end Duncan stayed for the night, after you dined (and Duncan showed all his hunger basically eating up anything that you had in your fridge).

You wished each other ‘goodnight’s and moved away to your room and the guest room, respectively,, with Duncan almost joking that he was ‘in the doghouse’.

‘You are a dog, wherever you go, it’s a doghouse’ you had replied slamming the door against his face, and slowly slumping against him, as if you were Donna from “Mamma Mia” having faced your three ex-lovers.

You didn’t have three ex-lovers, but Duncan could be as complicated as three.

For the entirety of your staying in DC, you had been able to keep your distance, but right now… that you were faced with him in his most vulnerable state…

No, no you couldn’t just give up.

He had lied to you.

And what would stop him from doing that again?

Maybe the entire ‘my dearest mommy doesn’t trust me’ story was just a lie to get him to trust you…

But some part deep in you knew that you he wasn’t lying.

You got yourself ready for bed, and tried to ignore the ache in your body that the ‘fight’ with Duncan had awakened with you and wasn’t letting you sleep, no matter the fact that you pushed a pillow between your legs to sooth the ache between them.

A few minutes in it and you were rubbing yourself against the pillow, pathetically humping it.

You hadn’t been this horny since you were sixteen.

Your fight with your horny-self ended up being interrupted by a quick knocking on your door.

Was Duncan in need of you to help him settle in bed?

“(Y/N)” Duncan’s voice surprised you since it was extremely husky and hoarse and you wondered whether he had had a nightmare and had waken up from it.

“Do you need a fairytale before going to sleep” you tried to brighten up the atmosphere, getting up from the bed and readjusting your elegant vintage nightgown, a gift for your birthday from Madison.

But before you unlocked the door, you felt a light tap against it, and Duncan growled through the door, mumbling a ‘don’t open’.

“I need to leave, (Y/N)” he simply commented, surprising you.

“Duncan, you are not in a good mood…”.

“Well now I am one ever worse” he uttered annoyed “… I just entered a heat”.

Oh.

Shit.

Heats were something adult werewolves went through at least three times a year and usually they were more due to external events than truly the need to impregnant their fertile mates, mostly stress and hormones, alongside also age and their rhythm of life.

“… turning this sudden and away from the full moon might have triggered it and being this close to my mate is not a good thing, alongside you not wanting me here, in this state…”.

Which was true, because heats meant that werewolves wouldn’t stop till their females were pregnant and you barely were able to stay in the same room with Duncan without hurling sarcasm at him.

“… I still would feel better if you might stay here” because heats made your mind hazy, alongside the fact that you didn’t want him to truly leave.

Maybe it was your body simply reacting to heat, but you wanted so desperately to open the door for him, and let him in.

Even if you know this might end up with you heartbroken…

And if you did end up being heartbroken you might get some nice sex out of it.

Hadn’t Duncan lost his touch.

You slowly opened the door, revealing a rather confused Duncan looking at you behind pleasure-hooded eyes, darkened by desire and some kind of bestial ferocity that sent molten liquid down the little nest between your legs.

And with the way he sniffled the air, you knew he knew.

“Go back, inside, (Y/N)” he ordered, but you just shifted closer, meanwhile he crouched down in the ground, to set some distance between you two “… I can’t control myself, I’ll hurt you”.

“Oh, you already did” you said lowering yourself to his level and pushing your face next to his “… but what is the worst that this big bad wolf could do to a girl he has already hurt?”.

And before you could take in everything that was happening, he slammed you against the door of your room.

He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you.

You should have been afraid.

But you just felt excitement coursing through your veins.

And then Duncan kissed you.

You still remembered back in the day when you were teens and Duncan wasn’t the best kisser you had had: nothing too bad, he just rushed the entire process and didn’t let you enjoy all the sensations, but at the time you hadn’t minded, too taken in your conviction of wanting please him desperately.

But apparently Duncan had grown out of it, because he kissed you indeed with ferocity, but tasting you in the earnest pushing himself to explore you in a slow and sloppy way, as if he wanted to enjoy each and different part of your mouth, meanwhile he gently kept you against the door, his hand coming to your waist and pushing you against the door, meanwhile he rubbed himself against you.

He didn’t rut into you as he had done previously, although you didn’t hate those moments: they made you feel wanted and desired.

But this kind of growth he had had, seemed pretty promising, making you whine softly against his mouth.

He stole your breath with these kisses till his arms came around your legs, pushing them against your waist and raising slightly your nightgown, the only barrier of fabric against you, alongside your panties and his sweatpants.

“… I might be a beast, but I want to fuck you on a proper bed” he commented as soon as he realized how far the things had gone, pushing you down and gently entangling your hands together, by which you led him inside your room, almost feeling ashamed of the mess in it.

(And hoping he wouldn’t see all the clues you had collected about your father’s death).

You turned around and he was again upon you, and his hands went to your nightgown, pushing on it and you immediately got the hint, not wanting him to rip it, since it costed a small fortune and you quite liked it, throwing it onto the chair of your dressing table, moving to also retrieve his shirt.

There was a new intimacy between you, although Duncan’s gaze was purely animalistic.

As if you were rediscovering your bodies for the first time since forever.

As you brought your hands to remove Duncan’s shirt, they burned a path in his skin, caressing the soft planes of the defined skin, lightly peppered with brown and dark hair, ending in a happy trail that you followed till Duncan had enough.

He pushed you, almost shoving you in it, onto the bed, then before you knew it, he started worshipping your breasts.

Again, the comparison with your youth years was unavoidable: back in the day, Duncan had certainly liked your breasts, but he had never given them much attention, mostly tweaking them to help you reach your climax, but they had never been the main interest of Duncan, as he did right now, pushing his head between them and gently caressing them, before kneading them in his big hands.

And when he went to push a ripe nipple in his mouth, he looked at you in the eyes, as if he wanted to make sure that you watched him, completely hypnotized by the way his tongue swirled against you erect pebble, meanwhile he gently kneaded the other one.

He gave it one last tug with his teeth, making you arch in the bed, your pelvis searching his, but he pushed you down with a quick move of his hip, meanwhile the hand that wasn’t working on your nipples, went to your neck, giving it a slight pressure, so that you knew who was in charge.

He then moved his mouth on the other nipple, and you were gone, with your hands clawing the sheet, meanwhile the pleasure became too intense and you were brought back only by again a harsh bite that Duncan donned onto your hip.

It was rather harsh and you saw the mark blooming lightly in you skin, which got you to shoot him a confused and angered look, since you weren’t his mate… which you were, but you just wanted sex, not any claim.

He didn’t have any claim on you.

And he smirked at you like a little shit, before his fingers teased you over the lacey panties you had worn, deep blue and nothing special, but you hadn’t expected to be out of the house, hence…

But Duncan didn’t seem to mind.

“… shit you are fucking drenched” which you were, but you refused to look at him in the eyes, since you didn’t want to confirm or deny that, knowing that your cunt spoke louder than you did “… and I am the one in heat”.

“I am kicking you out, if you are just going to make fun of me” you mumbled, grunting lowly as he pushed a finger through the fabric, gently caressing your next, his skin against yours.

“I’ll be a gentleman” he smirked, showing you his elongated canines, and you just rolled his eyes as he pushed your body down the bed, as if you were nothing more than a motionless doll.

And he eased himself onto his elbow and before you knew it, he dipped a long lick onto your covered folds, making you buck into his face, suffocating his giggle, that send vibrations in your core.

Duncan hadn’t ever been truly attentive at your needs, and although this wasn’t the first time he had eaten you up, as with your breasts, it had been just to get ready for him, but as he dived more broad licks over your covered cunt, it seemed that he was doing it more because he liked to have you contorting against the bed than because he wanted to get you ready to take his length, with brushed against your bed, as he pounded lightly against it.

His heat getting the best of him.

He finally decided to stop the teasing and pushed your panties down your legs, and with the way he brushed against your legs, he left little thrills in their wake, which he knew, since he smirked at you as a self-assured bastard, before kissing you as he held your panties in his fingers.

This kiss was a debauchery in itself, Duncan languidly moving his mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, dipping it lightly between your lips, before he asked forgiveness, gently licking your lips, leaving you breathless and trembling, not knowing what was going on between you two.

You couldn’t help but feel cherished and loved.

Too bad it was just for a night.

And as he continued to kiss you so languidly, you were startled when he dipped his fingers in you, at first just his knuckle and you bit down on his bottom lip, enough to draw blood, more out of the surprise than because you wanted to.

But Duncan didn’t seem to mind.

He licked the blood, smirking at you, as his finger slipped even more in you, making you breath lightly, almost withholding your breath in your mouth, and then he proceeded to smear some on your cheeks, before he licked it, slipping his finger at its fullest in you.

And there, your hands immediately came onto his back and clawed onto his back, to grab onto something meanwhile pleasurable desire ran in your veins and this was enough for Duncan to lose the control, his finger curling into you, meanwhile he pushed himself away from your hold, dipping his head between your thighs.

You closed them immediately, feeling ashamed of how loose you had been: suddenly you were a sixteen-year-old again and you were letting your boyfriend see you naked for the first time.

You had never felt self-conscious since you had come back: you were one of those “puberty hit her” stories, but with Duncan in such an intimate situation, you couldn’t help but think about each thing he might notice about your body.

“It’s like you have never changed…” his nose slipping between your folds, sniffling your delicious smell, meanwhile he tried to force your legs apart, and gently you gave out under his praise “… and at the same time you are completely different”.

You turned your head to the side, ashamed, but you didn’t miss Duncan’s following words.

“I fucking want to discover you again, sweetheart”.

And then he dipped as a starved animal between your legs, his finger never retreating meanwhile his tongue teased your folds, before his mouth enveloped your clit.

Your head became dizzy by all the stimuli going through your body and you tried to breath, meanwhile Duncan made it harder and harder for you to focus, your eyes shifting closed from the heavenly vision of Duncan’s lips drenched with your juices, meanwhile your thighs became reddish, mostly in their inner’s part for his beard.

You were sure you would also have some pretty evident marks, with the way he tightened the hold onto your thighs, and although it wasn’t painful, the pressure kept you anchored to the ground.

You were thoroughly thankful for whoever had taught Duncan those techniques.

All it took for you to come was Duncan gently pushing another finger into you, scissoring them, in a delicious stretch that made you arch your body against the mattress, meanwhile you mewled heavenly and when you thought that you had reached the extreme pleasure, he curled his fingers in you and you shot up, feeling extremely sensitive, and at the same time detached from your body.

You were floating in a sea of sensation that came crashing through your body, and you fell hardly, and worst of all, feeling yourself leave some kind of moisture between your thighs, which shone brightly onto Duncan’s face.

Again, feeling sixteen and having had sex for the first time, you blushed scrunching your face away from Duncan, who just smirked, moving a hand to his face to collect your juices.

“Fucking taste like honey” he muttered, making you turn away from him, but he obliged you to face him and he kissed you, sharing some of your more intimate secrets with you, and you had to admit that you did taste like honey.

With an accent of cinnamon.

“… do you…?” usually when Duncan ate out to you, you would return the favor, but he just pushed you down the bed, making you giggle at his eagerness, definitely heightened by your taste.

“No, I need to fucking have you” and his hand stormed to your nightstand, expecting to find condoms, just to be surprised by your collection of hair ties “… shit, I don’t have any on me”.

“I am clean and on birth control” you muttered, meanwhile you guided Duncan’s hand down your body, till it met the wetness seeping again through you, making him growl “… and I know that you must be pristine clear to avoid any scandal”.

He nodded, and seemed sincere, but you also had again other protection spells for that and casted one under your breath, making Duncan roll his eyes, but he continued softly rubbing you, before he kissed you gently, laying a few good kisses between anything that stood in his path from your neck to collarbones.

“… do you need a spell to get it up?” you joked, seeing his hesitance and you weren’t ready for what would happen next.

Duncan pushed himself against you, through his sweatpants and you understood that he definitely didn’t need your help.

“Keep on teasing me, sweetheart and I’ll fuck the brat out of you” he threatened you, nipping your neck, before he pushed back just to relieve himself of his pants.

He was definitely smug that you were again surprised by his length.

“You ego isn’t the only thing that grew” you mumbled, and he gently pushed you against the bed, till you hit the headpiece with your back and he smirked, pushing you in order for you to sit on his laps, brushing your slit with his length in a teasing motion that brought you to complain with moans and beg him with your eyes.

“You must be truly desperate if you are begging me like this, begging your mortal enemy”.

“I liked you when you were less cocky” you replied, punching his chest and he caught your hand as he suddenly realized that you would be hitting again and brought you gently in a soft kiss, meanwhile he pushed you so that you were hovering over his length.

And as he connected your lips, he pushed into you.

And you moaned loudly in the kiss, making him smirk, meanwhile he gave you enough time to adjust to his length, which you did closing your eyes and trying to focus on the sensation.

The stretch in this case was definitely more painful, and you had to take a few minutes to relax around him and when you did…

… Duncan gave you all he had.

He pounded in you, making your hips buckle up and your ass bounce up, meanwhile you attempted to ride him, although you didn’t have much power over him and was just able to push your nails onto his arm, meanwhile you tried to steady your body.

He was gently stimulating your clit, with the brush of his pelvis against it, but he still wasn’t hitting your deepest point, mostly because his thrust were faster than actually shallow, enough to make you feel pleasure, but you were stuck in a limbo.

And Duncan seemed to see it.

Not even breaking a sweat, he changed the pace, and suddenly his thrust were more shallow, focusing on penetrating you further in a slower rhythm, that got you to truly see the stars, and this time you had to hug his torso to still yourself, moaning and leaving open-mouthed kiss onto his burning skin.

He pushed away the hair from your face and gently pushed further into you, pulling on your hair and before you knew it, you were shoved onto the mattress, with your stomach on it, as Duncan entered you form behind, pulling onto his hair, and making you finally remember that he was in fucking heat.

This way the angle he could hit was definitely deeper not to talk about the fact that he had lost himself in an extremely dangerous rhythm that made you feel like you were losing your own mind, hazy by pleasure and barely feeling the pain in your back for the hurtful position.

“You are eating me up perfectly” commented Duncan “… I can’t wait to fill you, fucking breed your womb”.

You were startled by his words and also Duncan seemed to understand he might have gone far, stilling in his thrusts, and this got you to breath and formulate a coherent thought.

“… I am sorry”.

“This doesn’t exit the bedroom” your tone was dead serious “… but I liked it”.

“You were always kinkier than I thought” he grinned, pushing again back into you, his hips slapping harshly your ass, as he pushed himself to kiss your shoulder, in a stranger comforting way, meanwhile you felt him twitch in you “… daddy’s little girl is a little whore, isn’t she?”.

“Shut up, little werewolf” your protest was weak, since you were nearing your own end and when you finally did, it felt even more explosive than the previous one you had had, mostly because now it was definitely much stronger.

You felt your walls clenching Duncan’s cock and he wasn’t much behind you, joining in the mind-blowing orgasm, not only his knot effectively swelling in yourself and his cum pushing itself in you, some even dripping outside your thighs.

And the sensation of it was almost too much in your ecstasy filled brain and you almost felt like blacking out a bit.

When you finally came down, you managed to collect yourself, feeling suddenly a heavy body on yours, realizing that Duncan had fallen onto your back, also a bit overtaken by the pleasure, enough to forget his surroundings, like you.

And he was only brought back by you pinching him, which got him to almost kick you for the startle and you giggled softly, your voice hoarse after sex.

He mumbled a little threat, with no bite, before he kissed and turned you around so that he could hug you, keeping himself sheathed inside him, since he had to wait for the knot to disappear.

“… you have gotten better” you mumbled softly, meanwhile you hid yourself in the crook of his night, and he laid a soft kiss on your forehead.

These weren’t the gestures two friends had for each other, only lovers acted like that.

But you knew you could never be that again.

“… and you haven’t changed deep deep down” he commented brushing your hair away in a soothing way, meanwhile you felt both your lids heavy for the tiredness, drifting into a peaceful slumber “… still the little girl who taunted and teased me”.

You thought that the words that followed were just because of your slumber.

“… the same girl… I loved”

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd reader #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd fic #duncan shepherd fluff #duncan shepherd smut #werewolf! duncan #duncan shepherd fan fic #duncan shepherd fanfic #duncan shepherd oneshot #duncan shepherd one shot #hoc imagine #hoc #house of card #house of cards imagine #duncan shepherd moodboard #michael langdon

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thetriggeredhappy · 5 years

Note

41 for speeding bullet please!

(warnings for alcohol and just terrible, terrible passenger seat etiquette)

41.) “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Sniper had long since buried his face in his hands, trying his best to pretend that he wasn’t associated with the other hooligans accosting the bartender despite the fact that his uniform matched theirs and he’d clearly visibly entered the establishment with the rest of them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Sniper murmured to nobody in particular.

Engie, to his credit, being the other designated driver for the night, gave him a consolatory pat on the shoulder before ordering himself some kind of low-proof craft beer that was advertised, and an ice water. “We’ll be here a good few hours I reckon, imagine there’s time for you to get one drink at least,” he shrugged.

“If I get one drink, I’ll just get tempted,” Sniper replied.

“Fair point,” Engie conceded, and moved off to keep an eye on the attack team, who’d all taken to trying to get in on a pool game happening towards the back of the bar.

Overall, the night was a blur of various headaches for Sniper, and he was almost relieved to see it over, except that when they went to make a head count ten minutes before they would be headed out back to base, they realized a few of their number had gone missing and Sniper was sent to track them down. Pyro he found lighting a trash can on fire just around the corner, and Spy was smoking outside of a different, immediately classier-looking bar that seemed to serve mostly wine as opposed to the wild drink specials of the one they’d decided to go to. Both were hauled back to the place they’d parked, where Sniper found the tail end of an argument being broken up between the team.

Engie looked considerably frazzled, and Scout was pouting, and Soldier was holding his jaw, which even then looked like it was bruising. Engie turned to him as he approached. “Well, Stretch, two things,” he said. “First, it turns out it was a good idea to bring the truck and the bread van. Our good Demo’s down for the count, and will probably need to be lyin’ down in the back seat. But I think we’ll need to switch on who’s drivin’ what. You know how to drive stick shift?”

Sniper felt his already thoroughly soured mood beginning to ferment. “Explain.”

Engie rubbed the back of his neck. “Now I know you took the van on the way here, and it’s what you’re more used to in terms of maneuverability an’ all, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to have any of these lot in the bed of the truck like before, and… we’re gonna need both vehicles occupied anyways. Since some of our teammates,” he said pointedly, shooting a look at Scout and Soldier, “have gone and gotten in a fight again and I’m not convinced they won’t start up again if they’re stuck in a space together.”

Sniper dragged a hand over his face. “So I’m drivin’ the truck?” he asked.

Engie rubbed the back of his neck. “Well. Also you’re gonna need someone in the passenger seat,” he added carefully.

“Truckie, why.”

“Like I said, we can’t have a fistfight in the back of the van. You can take your pick on who you want with you, Scooter or Solly, but, I’m gonna need to ask you to take at least one.”

It wasn’t a terribly tough decision. “I suppose I’ll bring Scout, then,” he said begrudgingly. Soldier was banned from taking shotgun (in every sense of the word) for a good reason.

Engie nodded, and tossed him the keys to the truck. “Alright, well, besides that I’m ready when you are,” he said, and started shooing their group along, trying his best to heft Demo to his feet.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Sniper called again, but within a few moments he was left standing in the parking lot alone with Scout anyways.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, just watching the team go through the ordeal that was trying to get half a dozen highly intoxicated murderers in the back of a van.

“Sup?” Scout finally asked Sniper, grin lopsided and self-satisfied.

“Let’s just go,” Sniper sighed, leading the way towards the truck. “The sooner we get back to base, the sooner I can be done with this whole mess.”

“What, you got other plans?” Scout asked, bumping shoulders with him amicably. Scout tended to get more physical with other people when drunk, he’d found, either in the way of slinging his arm around a teammate cheerfully or clocking someone in the jaw. For now, it seemed he was drifting towards the former.

“Yeah. Headache medicine and waking up early to get myself breakfast so I don’t have to deal with you lot and your hangovers,” Sniper replied, needing to lightly push Scout towards his side of the truck to get him to stop following him like a duckling.

“Sounds like a real party,” Scout said, clambering gracelessly into the passenger seat, needing to take a few valiant attempts before finally managing to get his seatbelt done. “Can I come?”

“I believe I said something about not dealing with you lot and your hangovers,” Sniper emphasized, turning the key and fighting the engine a bit to try and get the battered old truck started.

It wasn’t until the engine finally turned over and the truck rattled to life that Sniper processed the uncharacteristic silence from his passenger. When he looked over, Scout was moping, slouched, staring out the passenger window, wearing the most kicked-puppy expression Sniper had ever seen.

“You can just keep pouting,” he said nonetheless, shaking off the immediate guilt that such an expression stabbed into him and instead turning his gaze to the rear-view mirror as he sent the truck into motion, starting to exit the parking lot. “Really. This is as pleasant as I’m gonna get for the rest of the evening.”

“What’d I even do?” Scout asked, the hurt shining through his voice and still hitting him despite Sniper’s dogged avoiding of eye contact. “What’s your problem?”

He clenched the steering wheel hard in his left hand as he shifted through gears with the right, released. “I don’t happen to enjoy going out and… “being social”, or whatever it is that you lot seem convinced is so great,” he replied. “It stresses me out. And usually I get to at least get myself smashed to try an’ take the edge off it, but I’m the other driver for the night, so I’m not allowed to have anything. Frankly, I’m tired of talking to, to people. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate some peace an’ quiet.”

To Sniper’s immense surprise, the little lecture and request of his actually worked. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes into the drive and Scout was still being quiet and relatively still in the passenger seat. They were making fairly good time, and it seemed the remaining half hour’s drive back to base would go without further incident.

“You’re really grumpy, y’know,” Scout said suddenly, and the peace was ruined.

Admittedly, the twenty minutes of quiet had done some good for Sniper’s nerves and temper. “I’m aware,” he said levelly.

“You should lighten up, have some fun once an’ awhile,” Scout insisted.

“I do have fun,” Sniper protested, a bit more quietly now. “Just not when I’m driving.”

Quiet for a second. “Like, when you’re actually driving, or when you’re supposed to be driving like, later?” Scout asked.

“The second one. Don’t know exactly how much fun can be had when I’m behind the wheel without getting in a wreck,” Sniper replied.

Quiet for another second. “Plenty,” Scout said.

Sniper furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“You can have plenty of fun,” Scout said.

His eyebrows remained furrowed. “I… don’t think I follow,” he murmured.

Scout was suddenly leaning bodily over the gearshift and slinging an arm around Sniper, startling the hell out of him and making him concentrate very hard to keep from swerving off the highway. “Careful,” Scout chirped unhelpfully, and Sniper could see his grin in his periphery.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sniper practically growled.

“Havin’ fun,” Scout said, undissuaded. Sniper wasn’t aware when exactly Scout got his seatbelt off, but it was pretty clear that it was gone given how close Scout was to him now. “Cool it, maybe.”

“Hard to cool it when I’m goin’ well over a hundred kilometers per hour in a stick shift and there’s someone leanin’ over the gear change.”

“Dude, this road’s got two lanes and it’s the middle of the night and there’s nobody anywhere the hell near us.” The hand Scout had slung around him moved to start mussing his hair out of order. “Relax. It’s fine!”

The panic simmered down a little bit, but only slightly. “There’s still road signs. And this isn’t even my truck.”

“Hey, hey hey hey,” Scout said in a voice that might’ve been soothing if not for the fact that he leaned even further over the gearshift to use it, chin leaning on Sniper’s shoulder. “It’s cool. It’s fine.”

“Can I ask why you think this is a good idea?” Sniper asked, tightening his grip on the wheel as Scout shifted again.

He shrugged, moving Sniper’s shoulders in the process, car swerving only slightly. “You said tonight sucked, right? And was stupid an’ boring? Might as well make it interesting, yeah?” He leaned in further, having to use his right hand to steady himself, putting it on the seat between the gearshift and Sniper’s leg. He felt the end of Scout’s nose brushing against his pulse point. It made his heart thud more than the swerving did. “This is interesting.”

To be fair, it was.

“Wouldn’t‘ve pegged you as a cuddly drunk,” Sniper said, a weak attempt at humor. “Thought you were more the, the hittin’ type.”

“I am hittin’,” Scout pointed out, right hand starting to idly pick at the outer seam of Sniper’s jeans. “Just, on you.”

Sniper had to clear his throat, swallow hard to buy time to formulate a response to that. Scout’s hand dropped from his hair to brush over the front of his throat, catching on his adam’s apple. “I feel like you’re,” he tried, and had to swallow again to make his voice steady, except Scout did that thing with his hand again and it threw him right back off balance. “I feel like you’re gonna, either not remember this on account’a being so, so hammered, or you’ll remember but be…” Scout’s hand migrated to rest just above his knee and Sniper jumped bodily, making Scout chuckle. “But, but be… embarrassed about this, and… not wanna talk to me ever again.”

“Maybe,” Scout admitted. “Or maybe it’ll be nice.”

Sniper felt a shiver catch in his shoulders. He could practically feel Scout’s grin, bared teeth millimeters from the skin of his neck, from his pulse point. “Nice?” he repeated weakly, accent twisting the word in a way that made him cringe internally.

“Yeah. Nice,” Scout insisted, and finally leaned up far enough to lie a kiss at the hinge of Sniper’s jaw, slowly, giving Sniper every opportunity to push him away, as if he hadn’t had enough already.

His breath was shaking. His hands, too. There was admittedly a spike of adrenaline running through him, only partly due to the danger of their situation, and it gave his limbs a distinct tremble. Hopefully Scout was too drunk to notice.

Hopefully Scout was sober enough to remember this, though, as well. Sniper, for the first time all night, was glad that he himself was.

#sniperscout #speeding bullet #tf2 #team fortress 2 #about five of these left at time of posting #im enjoying this a lot! :>#shut up me #my fanfiction #my writing

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pinesconessecrets · 5 years

Text

Mistletoe

Here’s your super duper uber late secret santa gift, Fri Fri! I hope you enjoy. <3

@sci-fri

Usually, it was dead in Wirt’s florist shop when the holidays began to roll around. His shop flourished in the spring and summer, customers coming in and out to browse his wide variety of flowers and other miscellaneous plants. As fall set in, the once steady flow of customers slowed down considerably, leaving Wirt fairly bored and often alone in his shop.

It was Christmas time now. Business picked up again briefly during the month of December and the first week of January. Everyone wanted assortments of holly, poinsettias, Christmas roses, chrysanthemums, and other Christmas themed flowers. Wirt got good at making wreaths very quick. Word of them got around town quick and the first two weeks of December was spent making the darn things.

After that, things really died down and he was bored. Really bored.

He spun around in his chair, leaned back and staring up at the ceiling. There was a week left to Christmas and boy was he bored. His family was supposed to visit him but their flight got messed up and they had to cancel. Wirt put on his happy face and told them it was fine, that he could just visit in January when the crazy holiday season has died down. Greg took it harder than Wirt did since the two brothers only got to see each other a handful of times each year.

The doorbell chimed, signaling that a customer was walking in. Wirt tried not to flail while straightening himself in his chair. He was a professional that totally didn’t spin around in his chair while he was bored. Nope, not at all.

“Hey, Wirt!”

He looked up, blinking in surprise. “Oh hey, Mabel. I didn’t think you would still be in town.”

Mabel made her way through the shop, setting a cup of something warm on the counter. “We were going to fly back to Washington to see our parents, but my lazybutt of a brother couldn’t get out of bed on time and made us miss our flight. Couldn’t afford another ticket so we decided to stay here. Mom and Dad are pretty bummed that we couldn’t make it but hey, it happens. What about you?”

Wirt picked the cup up, taking a tentative sip. Hot chocolate; he should have known. “There was a glitch in the airport’s system so they never actually booked a flight and they couldn’t schedule any flights until January. It’s not the first Christmas I’ve had to spend alone so it’s cool.”

She pursed her lips, her expression scrunching up. That was a look Wirt knew as Mabel’s thinking face. He had a feeling about what would happen next.

“You should come and have Christmas with us!”

Wirt chewed on his lip, thinking it over. Either way, he probably didn’t have a choice considering this was Mabel who was asking him. “Okay. Do you want me to bring anything? Like a pie or a side dish or something.”

“Honestly whatever is good. I think Dipper is going to try to bake a turkey, which means I’ll end up baking it because he should not be let anywhere near the kitchen.”

Wirt laughed into his drink. “That bad?”

“He almost set the microwave on fire, Wirt. The microwave. Do you know how hard it is to even do that?”

“I’ll take your word for it. I had a roommate back in college who burned everything in the microwave. Needless to say, he was quickly banned from going near it shortly after. Didn’t stop him though.”

“Oh man, that sounds exactly like Dipper. He’s hopeless when it comes to any type of kitchen device.” Mabel looked at the time on her phone, then let out an annoyed huff. “I gotta bounce! I swear, everyone would be lost without me at work. See you soon, Wirt!”

“Later, take care.”

Mabel waved at him as she walked through the door, leaving Wirt alone in his shop.

*****

Wirt sat nervously in his car, fidgeting with his seatbelt. A freshly baked apple pie and a cinnamon butterscotch pie were carefully placed in the backseat, filling the car with their sweet and tempting aroma. He didn’t know why he was so nervous to go to the Pines twins apartment for Christmas. They were his friends; he had no reason to be feeling this nervous.

Okay, maybe he was slightly crushing on Dipper. It was just a little crush, nothing to worry about, right?

Right.

Wirt turned his car off, pocketing the keys before stepping out into the biting cold. He gathered the pies up in his arms carefully, beginning on making his way to the apartment complex. The twins lived up on the top floor and thank god for elevators. He didn’t think he’d be able to go up four flights of stairs, let alone with two pies. Mabel’s spidey sense must have kicked in before Wirt had the chance to knock on the door.

“You made it! Come in!” she beamed, practically pulling him in. “You can put the pies on the counter in the kitchen.”

Wirt yelped and struggled not to drop the dessert. “You didn’t let Dipper in the kitchen, did you?”

“Nope! Chased him out with my trusty wooden spoon anytime he tried to sneak in.”

“You know I can hear you, right? Not cool guys.” Dipper leaned against the wall, dark circles under his eyes.

Wirt hummed innocently, glancing at one of Mabel’s multiple wooden spoons scattered about the kitchen.

“Oh no. No no no. You are not going to do what I think you’re planning,” Dipper scowled.

Mabel leaped at Dipper with wooden spoons in both hands, batting at him gleefully. “I am!”

“Argh, Mabel no! Look I’m leaving!” He quickly retreated from the vicinity of the kitchen, heading back to the living room.

She snickered, brandishing her weapons. “The turkey’s almost done cooking, so feel free to go chill. I’ll hold the fort down.”

“Call me if you need any help.”

“Will do!”

Wirt wandered into the living room, hovering awkwardly in the entryway. Dipper was sprawled out on the couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table as he lazily flipped through the channels on TV.

“You gonna sit down? I don’t bite.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Wirt shuffled over, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. He tried to focus on the movie Dipper picked, which was some cheesy Hallmark movie because seriously, what else is there to watch during Christmas.

But his mind kept drifting to Dipper’s presence. Oh, how he hated how his mind loved to kick into overdrive, making him overanalyze everything and anything. Did Dipper even like other guys? Wirt never had the courage to ask, let alone hint at bringing up any talk of it. He had a feeling Mabel must have figured he was harboring a tiny crush on her brother but she never mentioned it.

“… you okay, man? Kinda spaced out there.”

Wirt jumped, coming back to earth. “Y-yeah. It’s been pretty quiet at the shop so I’ve been uh, zoning out a lot. Not much to do since pretty much everyone’s out of town or busy visiting family.”

“Really? Figured everyone would be lining up to buy some flowers or something.”

“My Christmas wreaths are pretty popular but the demand dies down once it gets close to Christmas. I guess people forget that flowers exist.”

“Lame. Maybe I’ll write a blog post about the importance of visiting your local flower shop. Buy a bouquet of flowers and get a discount on a tattoo. It’s the perfect deal.”

Wirt hoped that Dipper didn’t notice the faint blush rising to his cheeks. “Would people actually take you up on that?”

“Probably. People love their tattoos.”

“It’d be… nice. Thank you,” he mused.

“‘Course. You helped spread the word of my tattoo parlor back when I was first starting out. Kinda surprised me to have a slew of people come in.”

“Never underestimate the power of a mere florist,” he said slyly.

“Mere? Come on, you’re more than that. You’re like the flower whisperer.”

Wirt shook his head, laughing softly. “Flower whisperer? That’s a bit of a stretch. My mom’s the one who has the green thumb. She can bring plants back from the dead in record time.”

“So can you.”

“Not as well as Mom.”

“Shut up and accept my compliments.” Dipper threw one of the multiple pillows littering the couch at Wirt.

He squawked as the pillow hit him smack in the face, flailing around. Wirt chucked the pillow right back at Dipper, who caught it with ease. Dipper gave Wirt a smug grin, tucking the pillow back in its righteous place.

“If you two are done behaving like children, dinner’s ready.” Mabel poked her head into the living room, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the two.

“Says the other child,” Dipper muttered, low enough for only Wirt to catch.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Mabel rolled her eyes, passing a plate to Wirt. Once they all had a plate, they began piling food onto their plates. Wirt didn’t take too much food, knowing if he got anymore he’d end up in some sort of a food coma and would pass out on the couch for a few hours. The kitchen table was covered in a mess of papers and sketchbooks, Dipper’s laptop and numerous coffee cups, so all three opted to sit on the couch to eat. Mabel and Dipper bickered over the remote, Mabel emerging victorious as she changed the channel to something that wasn’t a Hallmark movie. She settled on Home Alone, tucking the remote between her and the armrest.

Wirt ended up sitting between the twins, painfully aware of how close he was sitting to Dipper. It’s cool, act normal. Everything is perfectly fine. Don’t let your eyes wander oh wait is that a new tattoo? he thought to himself. A few sneaky glances confirmed that Dipper indeed get a new tattoo. It looked like a single vine wrapping around his forearm, varying types of flowers here and there. He picked out carnations, chrysanthemums, petunias, and roses. Wirt didn’t take Dipper to be a flower guy, unless…

“Are you done eating? I can take your plate,” Mabel said, already taking Dipper’s empty plate.

“Oh, no. I can get it.”

“Shh. No. You’re company. Give me your plate.”

Knowing better than to argue, Wirt handed her his plate. She nodded with a smug grin and headed off to the kitchen. Soon sounds of her cleaning kitchen reached the living room.

Before Wirt could get up to help her, Dipper shook his head. “She’ll just chase you out. I wouldn’t try.”

Wirt flopped back down on the couch with a sigh, bouncing a leg. Then, his stupid mind betrayed him and he blurted out, “Did you get a new tattoo?”

“Yeah! Mabel’s been wanting to practice and I told her that I’d let her give me one to stop hounding me. She insisted on flowers for some reason.” Dipper held up his arm to give Wirt a closer look.

Wirt scooted closer, adoring the amount of detail Mabel put into the flowers. She captured their beauty perfectly and not a single line was out of place. “Mabel did a wonderful job on these flowers. If I wasn’t so squeamish around needles, I’d love to get a flower tattoo.”

“I wouldn’t mind holding your hand while you’re getting one. I mean, if you’re cool with that and everything. I wouldn’t want to make you feel awkward or anything and oh my gosh I don’t know if you’d be comfortable with that and look here I am rambling again I’m so sorry,” Dipper stammered out, flailing his arms around nervously as he spoke.

Wirt chuckled, unable to stop himself from giving Dipper a slight smile. “I’d be okay with that.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. When I can work up the courage to get a tattoo, that is.”

“Y-yeah, of course! Have you thought about what kind you want to get?”

“No, not yet. I know a lot of people get ones that have some sort of meaning to them and it’s the way I’d like to go, but I can’t decide on exactly what I want.”

Dipper nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Take your time. It’s definitely not an overnight decision to make.”

The two lapsed into silence, their attention focused on the movie playing on TV. Wirt remembered when Greg first got into the Home Alone movies. He tried to prank Wirt after that, but their mom put a quick end to it when she caught wind of what he was planning.

Out of the corner of Wirt’s eye, he noticed Dipper fidgeting. It looked like he wanted to say something. As he turned his head to speak, Wirt’s phone rang.

Wirt mouthed ‘sorry’ as he got up from the couch, answering the phone on his way to the door. Mabel was too absorbed in washing dishes that she didn’t see him walk by, not even looking up when the door was opened and closed.

The phone call ended up being from Greg, who wanted to check up on Wirt. He seemed pleased to hear that he wasn’t spending Christmas Eve alone, but was still upset that he couldn’t come to visit. Wirt assured him that they’d get to see each other in a few short weeks, and if the airport’s system got messed up again, he’d take some time off from work to drive back home to see Greg. And that was a rock fact. Soon, Greg had to hang up to go to bed since it was starting to get late, making Wirt promise to call him first thing in the morning.

Wirt slipped his phone back into his pants pocket and opened the door, only to be met with Mabel shoving Dipper towards the doorway. He shut the door behind him and raised an eyebrow at the two of them. Mabel simply shrugged before pointing up and hauling ass.

Oh no.

“Why am I not surprised?” Dipper rolled his eyes. “Of course she planned this.”

A mistletoe hung above them, easy to miss if you weren’t looking out for it. Wirt was feeling all sorts of panic now. She must know of Wirt’s crush on Dipper, or maybe it was the other way around? No, it can’t be the other way around because whoever had a crush on him had to be out of their mind.

“Well, this is awkward. I wasn’t planning on telling you that uh, that I liked you. At all really. But guess Mabel had other plans,” Dipper mumbled.

Wirt’s face burned. Dipper had a crush on him? What? Was he dreaming? He definitely was dreaming. This can’t be happening.

“I like you too.”

Why did I say that? Wirt screamed internally. No no no no no. Abort mission.

Dipper perked up. “You do?”

“Y-yeah. I hope that’s okay?”

“Course, man. God, this is going to sound so lame but I’ve had a crush on you ever since Mabel dragged me into your flower shop like a year ago.”

“Just kiss already, you dorks!” Mabel yelled at them from somewhere inside the apartment.

“Are you okay with…?” Dipper started to ask, his voice trailing off.

Wirt bit his lip but nodded. “Mmhm. Best to y-you know, before Mabel comes in here and shoves our heads together.”

He laughed, stepping closer. Wirt felt his heart thudding in his chest as Dipper grew closer, his cheeks turning redder when Dipper tucked his fingers under Wirt’s chin to tilt his head up. He let his eyes flutter shut, his breath catching in the back of his throat as Dipper’s lips softly brushed over his own. It was a small kiss but had the promise of more in the future to come.

“Took you dorks long enough. You’d still be pining over each other if it wasn’t for me.” Mabel appeared a few feet away from them, smirking triumphantly.

Dipper jumped away from Wirt, both of them equally embarrassed. “Mabel! Personal space!”

“You’re in the hallway. Not really personal space, is it?”

“Oh my god. You’re impossible. Go away.”

Mabel cackled and walked away.

Dipper dropped his head onto Wirt’s shoulder. “She’s going to drive me insane one of these days.”

“Thought she already was.”

“Haha, very funny. We should probably go join her in the living room before she comes back. But first…” Dipper kissed Wirt again with more confidence. Wirt let out a squeak of surprise, causing Dipper to laugh against his lips. “I think I could get used to hearing more of whatever that noise was.”

“Oh my gosh. No. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s cute.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

#pinescone #pinescone secret Santa #Wirt #Dipper #Pinescon eSecret Santa 2018 #OTGW #GF #Gravity falls #over the garden wall #submission

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billehrman · 5 years

Text

Low Inflation is Not Transitory

We expect the Fed to make a game-changing announcement within months that their long-held belief that low inflation is transitory has been wrong. Inflation has been running well beneath the Fed’s 2% target for well over 5 years now despite rising employment, a near record low level of unemployment and accelerating nominal wages. We have been commenting for years that low inflation is sustainable due to the competitive effects of globalization, rapid changes in technology, and the incredible birth of disruptors changing the status quo industry by industry. Unfortunately, the Fed has remained dogmatic, looking in the rear-view mirror, expecting the Philips curve to kick in. No way! They just did not get it nor could they see it. Change was everywhere.

Today all one has to do is look at some of the most successful IPOs so far this year: Beyond Meat, Zoom, Pinterest, Lyft and Uber to name a few. Look at CNBC’s 2019 list of 50 of the most important up and coming disruptors. It’s simply amazing and, fortunately for all of us, this is just beginning. Change is still in its infancy! Good for us but not for the established companies unless they invest in their own disruptor like PetSmart who owned Chewy that went public last week.

The implications for long-term investing are huge if low inflation is really here to stay. Just ask Warren Buffett who commented months ago that the stock market would be tremendously undervalued if long rates held beneath 3.2% which was the rate at that time. Well, long rates are hovering around 2.6% today and are even lower abroad. Buffett’s valuation matrix comparing earnings yield to bond yield has only widened favoring stocks over bonds.

We fully understand that our view is in a minority but we are truly looking over the valley as a long-term investor. Change does not come overnight nor is accepted early on but low inflation has been a fact of life for at least 10 years now. Inflation is up 19.5% over the last 10 years and is up only 7.8% over the last 5 years? And there has NOT been a recession during that period of time. Think about it!

Right now, the market is selling at less than 17 times expected earnings. The pundits feel that it fair as the multiple is at the higher end of the historical range but they fail to mention that the historical range for bond yields is 300-400 basis points higher than rates are today. Also, these experts fail to mention that bank capital/liquidity ratios are at or surpassing all-time highs which we use as a proxy for financial risk in the system.

The bottom line is we continue to believe that the market is undervalued for investors. We are cognizant of all the risks, especially escalating trade conflicts. But here, too, we have a slightly different view than the consensus. We already have 25% tariffs on $250 billion of Chinese exports but somehow inflation has not ticked up yet. Maybe part of the reason is the fall in the yuan. Maybe another reason is that manufacturers are eating some of the tariff attempting to keep the business? And finally, maybe the buyers/suppliers have shifted some capacity out of China. Foxconn commented that they have sufficient capacity to supply Apple outside of China to avoid any tariffs. Do you really think China is willing to risk losing 2+ million jobs? That is one of the reasons why we believe that China is at far greater risk if the trade conflicts escalates than the U.S..

Besides escalating trade conflicts, we are aware that many experts are projecting an economic slowdown and possibly even a recession in the U.S. within the next year. We disagree because the U.S. consumer, who is 67% of GNP, will continue to carry the day while the producing side of the economy remains sluggish. Government spending will remain strong too.

Let’s take a look at the most recent data points that either support or view—or not—that the U.S. economy will do just fine; China’s growth will slow but still be the highest of all industrialized countries; Europe is in trouble and Japan will stay stuck in the mud:

1.) Economic stats for the U.S. last week were a mixed bag although we raised to above 2% our forecast for 2nd quarter GNP as consumer demand has finally picked up. Retail sales increased a seasonally adjusted 0.5% in May while April sales were revised up to a 0.3% increase from a 0.2% decline; industrial production rose 0.4% in May although factory activity fell to 52.1, the lowest reading in 2 years; job opening were a seasonally adjusted 7.4489 million jobs while the number of Americans seeking jobs actually fell to 5.8 million; U.S. business inventories actually rose 0.4% in May, excluding autos, while sales fell slightly; and, finally, small business optimism rose to a seven month high.

The key economic stats for the week were consumer prices rose only 0.1% in May and are up 1.8% year over year; the producer price index advanced 0.2% in May and are up 1.8% from a year ago, including energy; and finally, the all-important PCE is up 1.6% from a year ago. All of these numbers remain below the Fed targets and include tariffs on Chinese imports.

While we do NOT expect the Fed to lower rates next week at their meeting, we expect them to hint at a rate reduction in the near future especially if there is no trade deal forthcoming with China. Notwithstanding, we believe that the Fed should lower rates as inflation is too low. The Fed will lower rates even more than we currently envision if the economy does slow more than we expect but that is not our base case as the consumer is just too strong. Remember that Trump will do all in his power to boost the economy and stock market as we enter 2020 to bolster his re-election chances.

2.) China’s economy has continued to weaken: industrial production rose only 5.0% from a year ago while fixed investment increased only 5.6% in the first five months of the year. On the other hand, retail sales rose 8.6% in May supported by a longer May Day holiday. China’s imports actually fell 8.5% from a year ago signaling real domestic weakness. As expected, the government announced additional support for local governments and financial institutions to use “special bonds and other market-based financing methods to support key areas and major projects.”

If the trade conflict with the U.S. continues to escalate, we believe that China’s economy will suffer more than most currently expect. If there are tariffs on all $550 billion of Chinese exports, all of the suppliers will be hit, too, compounding the problem. China does not want to lose business to other regions as they will never get it back.

We still expect Presidents Trump and Xi to reach a ceasefire when they meet later this month. If not, China’s economy will suffer far more than here. By the way, China has just gotten a black eye from the protestors in Hong Kong winning a stay on extradition.

3.) Europe’s economy is in trouble. Look no further than the rising recession risks in Germany. All of the key indices of Germany’s economy have turned negative. German rates have moved further into negative territory too. It certainly does not help that Trump and Merkel are fighting over the proposed natural gas pipeline from Russia. Could Trump impose tariffs against German car exports as punishment? Yep!

We remain very negative about the Eurozone. Chances of a hard Brexit are rising too. And we really doubt that Europe will let U.S. agriculture in jeopardizing any chance of a trade deal.

4.) Japan will continue to stumble along hoping that the U.S. and China make a deal opening up global trade. While we continue to expect Japan and the U.S. to reach a trade deal before the end of the summer, it won’t unfortunately move the need for either economy.

There’s no place like home—or would you rather invest in China, Europe, Japan and/or the Emerging markets today? Not us, especially if the U.S. and China do not reach a ceasefire/trade deal. The bottom line is that the U.S. economy is doing just fine and we are on the cusp of the Fed lowering rates and stopping the bond run-off. What more can the Bank of China, BOJ and ECB do at this stage? Not much. The Fed is the only game in town and our markets will benefit.

In addition, we believe that the U.S. economy is in fine shape and has the least risk to escalating trade tensions globally. If/when the Fed lowers rates, which we expect in July unless there is a trade deal with China, the yield curve will steepen and the dollar weaken. We would not be surprised to see traders anticipate both moves prior to the actual event.

We have structured a win/win portfolio owning only the strongest companies with the very best managements. We suggest that you listen to as many earnings calls as possible as you learn so much. For instance, we were on the Broadcom call last week. Broadcom is a great company but unfortunately has around 5% of its sales with Huawei which are now suspended due to Trump. What if Trump lifts that ban as part of a deal with China? Could happen. We do not own Broadcom; but we do have exposure to the semi area owning the technological leader, AMD, that will gain market shares for many years to come. We have written calls against the position too.

We have not changed our net exposure over the last week. Our portfolios continue to emphasize healthcare, consumer spending, technology, cable with content, housing related, some low-cost industrial commodity companies, capital goods and industrials and many special situations. The common thread throughout the portfolios is that we own best in breed with very strong financials, market dominant, rising earnings, positive free cash flow, dividend yields above the 30-year bond and large stock buybacks. We have sold 2-3 month calls against a good portion of our portfolio affording us 8% upside, excluding dividends, and 9% downside protection. While we do not own bonds and are flat the dollar, we expect the yield curve to steepen and the dollar to fall when/if trade deals are reached and/or the Fed begins lowering rates.

Remember to review all the facts; pause, reflect and consider mindset shifts; look at your asset mix with risk controls; do independent research and…

Invest Accordingly!

Bill Ehrman

Paix et Prospérité LLC

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badacts · 6 years

Note

more kid Kevin au? maybe the first day when Neil had Kevin's custody? Scarry thing to sign those papers, maybe he's insecure that he and Andrew aren't going to last, it's a really big step and they didn't even talk about it, it just happened, baby Kevin clinging to Andrew's shirt when he has to take a break from all of this responsibility. idk bee just break my heart in tiny million pieces. ily

hahahahaAHHAHAHAHAHAH

When it comes to dealing with death and its fallout, Andrew and Neil are far better adapted than most.

This isn’t like anything else though. Not even close.

When Kayleigh asked Neil to be Kevin’s guardian if anything happened to her, she’d been clever about it. She waited until he’d spent enough time with Kevin for it to be more of a question of whether he was willing to take on Kevin, his friend’s child, instead of a child he had never met when he knew nothing about children.

He and Andrew had talked it over carefully, but it was never anything more than hypothetical. Kayleigh was young, fit and healthy, barely older than Neil and vivaciously full of life. The issue of guardianship was just a matter of loose ends, and making sure that Kevin would always be safe.

Was is the operative word.

The first day is the hardest. They don’t have any of Kevin’s things. Kevin won’t stop crying, frightened in an unfamiliar place without his mother. Neil is shell-shocked, reeling with his new reality - Kayleigh, dead. Her child, in every way her male miniature, here with them for good.

Without Andrew he would be lost. He’s always been better with kids, a natural where Neil fumbles. He stays with Kevin while Neil drives to Kayleigh’s apartment and tries to figure out what Kevin needs. He puts Kevin down for the night. He also gets up with Neil when Kevin wakes, blinking sleep away, despite the fact that Neil was awake anyway.

It’s his inconsolable crying that makes Neil’s hands shake. Not the fact that he’s committed to a tiny human being now until that human hits eighteen at least, but the fact that he can’t explain anything to this defenceless baby who is just confused and afraid and yet too young to grieve.

Neil doesn’t wear uncertainty well. He’s gotten unused to feeling like this. More fool him - he should have learned by now that when he gets complacent, life has a way of correcting him.

Andrew, who doesn’t even seem to know the meaning of the word ‘uncertain’, steps in just like he always does.

For the first week, Neil keeps trying to work as well, in part because he knows Kayleigh would never have forgiven him for getting slack over her. It doesn’t work not because of Neil’s mindset - he’s a master of compartmentalisation - but because he’s sleeping maybe two hours a night between Kevin’s late-night crying jaunts and his own insomnia.

His head coach pulls him aside on the fourth day. “Josten, I mean this is in the nicest possible way, but you’re banned from this court until the lead-up to the Seattle game.”

“That’s at least two weeks,” Neil replies. It’s meant to be an exclamation, but he honestly doesn’t have the energy for it.

“I’m aware of that.” Steinham crosses his arms. “I have a vested interest in making sure my top scorer can throw in a straight line for that game.”

“There’s another game before that.”

“If we can’t beat the Panthers with you on the bench you should probably get your agent to find you a better team,” Steinham says. “Josten. Neil. I remember what having a baby is like, and that was without…look. Just take the time and run with it. Your partner will be grateful.”

Neil opens his mouth for another robotic reply, then closes it, nods, and leaves.

He probably shouldn’t be on the road, because when he pulls into his space in their parking lot he has no memory of the trip at all. He even takes the elevator up to their floor.

The first thing he notices when he walks inside the apartment is how quiet it is. There’s a half-unpacked grocery bag on the kitchen bench, and a cupboard hanging open. Andrew’s phone is lying beside it. His wallet and keys aren’t in their usual place.

The absence of crying is more than startling - it’s actually frightening. Or maybe Neil’s bar is just low right now.

Neil goes for the spare bedroom first, where Kevin’s crib is set up. He can’t quite explain why his heart is in his throat. The first sight of Kevin sprawled on his back with his tiny fists curled up isn’t enough to soothe him - he leans closer and watches the sleep-slow bob of his chest until he can breathe a bit easier himself.

The baby is fine. Neil closes the door soundlessly behind him and goes to the balcony, which is empty. So is his head, until he pushes into their room and sees Andrew lying on the bed.

He’s still wearing his coat. His keys are beside him on the mattress. With his eyes closed the dark circles carved into his face are more than obvious, cutting down into his cheeks. He looks exhausted.

Neil’s heart, done pounding, shivers somewhere in the bottom of his stomach.

When he leaves the room he takes the baby monitor off of the dresser on the way past and closes the door behind him. The part of him that wants to lie down too is ruthlessly shut down by the idea that…where he has been, anyway? Playing a sport?

He puts away the groceries, then steps out onto the balcony with the monitor in his pocket. There’s a packet of cigarettes and a lighter lying on the table, but Neil’s first thought when he looks at them is that he’ll have to put them away so Kevin can’t get into them. Sacrifice. Something like that.

He rests his crossed forearms on the metal of the handrail, then drops his forehead on them.

He’s not sure how long it’s been when he hears Kevin stir through the monitor and start to make unhappy noises. He slips back inside and goes to him before he can get louder, and finds him standing up in his crib on wobbly legs and sniffling.

Kayleigh emailed Neil a picture of Kevin pushing himself up on the couch to stand for the first time barely weeks ago. Now she’s going to miss him taking his first steps, and everything else-

Kevin reaches a hand to Neil, lower lip quivering. Neil sweeps him up and curls him into his arms before that can progress to wailing.

Neil’s sympathy has never been anything to write home about. His self-pity is much more remarkable. That and the way Kevin clings to him is enough to make his eyes burn. He closes them and rocks in the sway which is already becoming second nature, swallowing.

A familiar hand clenches tight about the back of his neck and stays there.

After a moment, Neil says, “You should have kept sleeping.” His voice sounds rough, but it doesn’t crack.

The hand squeezes tight and then releases. Andrew doesn’t say anything, but Neil is helpless to do anything but follow him when he leaves the room.

“I’m staying,” he bursts out halfway into the living room, coming to a stop. “For a couple of weeks.”

Andrew drops onto the couch and looks at him. “Alright.”

“I should have stayed,” Neil says. “I told you I wouldn’t run.”

That was so long ago now that it’s fogged in Neil’s memory, the way even the strongest good memories do where bad memories are always crystal clear. It had nothing to do with Kevin, nothing to do with anything except the two of them and the shadow of Neil’s long-dead father.

“You aren’t running,” Andrew replies. He still looks tired, but there’s an animation to his face that fills the hollows of his cheeks, turns him regularly implacable.

Kevin wriggles in a request to be put down, and then crawls for the pile of toys Neil threw onto the area rug Allison gave them when they moved here because ‘a nice apartment demands nice furniture, boys’. Neil watches him, for a moment exactly like the baby he knew who visited instead of lived here, and swallows.

When he looks up, Andrew is still watching him. “You’re not going anywhere. None of us is.”

Neil would like to say that Andrew seeing to the heart of whatever Neil is feeling and saying it out loud before Neil can recognise it in himself is a recent thing, but it’s always been the case.

It’s not a promise. It’s not faith. It’s realism, based on probability. Neil guesses even they can only get so unlucky.

#the foxhole court #andreil #kid kevin au #my fic #minor character death #Anonymous #andrew doesn't lose his shit until like a month later #because being in a couple means taking turns for emotional breakdowns where possible #kid kevin verse

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seeroftodayandtomorrow · 6 years

Text

In Carcere

Chapter 6

Read on AO3

Things normalize faster than Blaine thought possible. It's not even been a whole week when his parents fail to rise with him in the morning, and only a few days after that when nobody is home when he returns from school. He sees that as the taciturn agreement that the ban on after school activities is over, and no one says anything when he only returns home for dinner the day after. He'd be hurt if he wasn't so relieved, or—maybe he's hurt even so. Just a little, though. He knows they love him and they mean well, and they've never been the type to hover.

It also makes him think about the meaning of family. His parents are family, yes, but so is Kurt. Kurt would have understood what he needed for comfort, and would not have presumed or projected his own expectations on him. Kurt has done everything he can to be there for him, even from afar.

So his parents can think what they want, but Kurt is his family. He doesn't need to do anything to make him so.

But he wants to. So, so much.

He buys a pretty little rainbow pin and gives it to Burt, to wear it in Washington, hopeful when Burt once again expresses his support for gay marriage.

“I want to ask Kurt to marry me,” he blurts out.

Burt looks at him like he's grown a second head.

“You kidding or you nuts?” he asks bluntly.

Blaine shrugs. “I know you'll say we're to young. But...my feelings for Kurt aren't going to change. I know I want to be with him for ever. He's my soulmate.”

“Look...” Burt says, “you know I'm happy that you love Kurt, and you know you're like family to me...”

“So you're saying you'd be okay with us getting married?”

“Of course not. You're just kids. There is absolutely no reason for you to get married.” He laughs, as if the idea is absurd, and Blaine starts to get a little....pissed.

“I don't think you understand,” he says, “what it's like to be denied the right to marry.”

“Come on, let's go sit down,” Burt says. Reluctantly, Blaine sits on a chair. He's aware he's pouting and it doesn't improve his mood.

“Just because you might soon be able to, hopefully,” Burt says, “doesn't mean you have to, or even that you should. You are very young, you know, even if you don't like to hear it. I'm not saying it won't work. The point is, though, there are so many steps still before you, milestones, if you will. Graduate. Go to New York, move in with Kurt. See how that's like. There are so many things you can experience together. Marriage is one of them, of course, but it doesn't have to come right now.”

Blaine can't quite shake the feeling that Burt may have a point. He is looking forward to experiencing everything with Kurt, he doesn't have to experience everything at once. However, he isn't quite ready to concede.

“What if something goes wrong?” he asks sullenly.

“Like what?”

“Like he finds someone else.”

“You did, not so long ago,” Burt says, making Blaine wince. It still hurts to remember what he did to Kurt.

“And Kurt forgave you, and you're back together now, and probably stronger for the experience. Back then, did you think that would be possible?”

Blaine shakes his head. Burt doesn't know, doesn't need to know, to what lengths he went to get Kurt to forgive him. But sometimes it still seems like a miracle.

“There. You will always face obstacles, even, you know, when you're married. Your problems don't magically disappear with a marriage certificate. But you will work it out, like you did before. It's gonna be okay.”

He stands up and turns to go, but Blaine calls him back.

“How do you know that, though?”

“When two people love each other, like you two do...everything works out.”

He leaves Blaine with a lot to think about. He doesn't necessarily agree with everything Burt said. Everything doesn't work out just because two people love each other. He has loved Kurt....before, and he has still cheated on him, hurt him so badly he felt he had to break up. And if it means everything will work out in the end—well, he has no desire to wait until the end, nor to go through anything like this again.

Still. That won't change when they're married, he knows that. He isn't naive enough to think that all their problems will magically disappear because they're married.

Except maybe that's exactly what he has been thinking.

Because they do still have problems, even though they're happy and love each other. He lies awake at night wondering how it will be when they are in New York together, living together. It's not just happy images of serving Kurt breakfast in bed and falling asleep cuddled up next to him at night. What keeps him awake are mainly the questions that won't go away: Kurt has a life in New York, a life without him. He has had a whole year that seems much longer than that to find his place and make friends. How will Blaine fit into that? Is there even room for him?

He knows he should talk to Kurt about this. Let himself be reassured, if nothing else...although, Blaine had worried about Kurt being in New York in the first place, and had let himself be reassured. And then things had come exactly as he had feared, and Kurt hadn't seemed to see, or to care, and Blaine had reacted in the worst possible way...

It won't be like that again. They need to talk, really talk, about this.

It's just, when he sees Kurt's face on the computer screen, it's so easy to let himself be distracted by other things.

But Kurt will be here soon. Burt has a really important doctor's appointment that Blaine knows about because Burt has kept his promise about keeping him up to date, and Blaine has tried to keep his promise about looking after him. Kurt will be here for that. And maybe then, they'll have time. To talk, and...other things.

…..............................

Kurt feels like he might go crazy. Nothing seems to be able to calm him down, and he falls into habits he has never ever practiced before. Choosing his clothes for luck instead of style, counting everything. He almost stepped into a puddle while trying to avoid passing under a ladder, and every scrap of paper is in imminent danger of being ripped to shreds.

He would be worried, if his mind weren't so full worrying about other things.

Once he's in Lima, it gets a little bit better. His dad looks good; it's unimaginable there should be a deadly disease inside him.

He should, however, have not gone to visit McKinley before the doctor's appointment, or even, he thinks, seen Blaine.

Glee club is too....normal, makes it too clear to him that the world will go on even if his own should be shattered tomorrow. And Blaine...Blaine understands what he's going through and tries to distract him, and takes his hand and holds it when he gets fidgety, and offers all the support he could wish for.

He is also very obviously distracted by other things, things they might have talked about in detail on Skype the day before yesterday. Things Kurt had shortsightedly promised to do to Blaine, even though he should have known he'd be much too worried to get even somewhere near the mood he'd need to be in to fulfill his promise. Blaine doesn't seems to understand he's definitely not in the mood now, if the way he tells him he looks “dirty cute” is any indication. To be fair, the light-blue jeans he has worn for good luck are super tight and make his ass look fantastic, but still....Not the time, Blaine. Not the time.

Well, Blaine will have to content himself with a goodnight kiss for now, and tomorrow things might look very differently.

He spends the night mostly tossing and turning in his old bed in his old room, and rises before his alarm, groggy and low-key terrified. He rushes through his skin care routine and immediately regrets it when afterwards, he paces his room with nothing to do because the rest of the house is still asleep.

At breakfast, all of them are tense and silent and occupied with their own thoughts. Kurt keeps sneaking looks at his dad at his usual place across the table and can't help but wonder if soon, there will be a day when his dad isn't sitting there anymore. If he will be too weak to sit at the table with them, too nauseous to feel like eating. If one day, he won't be there at all.

He pushes his plate away at the thought.

Then they're at the doctor's office, finally, waiting while his dad gets examined and then again waiting for the verdict. He freaks out a little at his dad wearing dark blue, because dark blue is close to black, and black is....A part of his brain screams at him, Do you hear yourself? Since when are you so superstitious? do you honestly believe the color of his shirt will have any influence on his health?

But he can't help it. And when Burt stops being cool and allows a glimpse of how scared he is himself, Kurt has to fight to keep down the panic. He sees his dad and Carole squeeze each others' hands so hard they will certainly hurt tomorrow. Then he does long for Blaine to be here after all, so he can have a hand to squeeze as well.

Instead, he takes his dad's hand and squeezes just once, softly, meant as an apology and an assurance that no more freakouts will happen.

When finally the doctor comes and tells them that the cancer is in remission, that in fact, Burt is practically cured, it seems unreal at first. He has stressed and obsessed so much that good news seem inappropriate, somehow. When he finally realizes what it means, what he feels is less joy and more a bone-deep relief. His father won't be taken from him, he won't leave him. They'll still have time.

It calls for a serenade, and the joy sets in when he sings “You are the Sunshine of my Life” for him in Glee club with everyone watching.

Afterwards, Burt and Carole go on a date to celebrate, and Kurt gets to be finally alone with Blaine—and in the mood, no less.

He's in a...peculiar mood, to be honest. He is happy, more than happy, but there is so much pent-up energy in him that he feels he might explode. It's from the stress of the last few weeks, he knows, but now he needs something to help him let go of that. It's a good thing Blaine is right there, holding his hand and every now and then stroking his thumb over Kurt's knuckles. Looking at him from the side with a little smile of which Kurt knows exactly what it means.

“Your parents aren't at home, are they?” he asks when they are in the driveway of Blaine's house. It's the first time he thinks of it, and the thought that they are, that he might be forced to sit at a table and make polite conversation unless they manage to sneak directly into Blaine's room, is just absurd. It's not possible, not when he's feeling like this.

“No, they're out,” Blaine says a little breathlessly, and his smile grows a little bigger when Kurt puts a hand on his thigh, close to the cage. He imagines Blaine's cock twitching, and feels his own do the same.

“Let's go inside,” he says.

#fic: in carcere #klaine fanfiction #new chapter finally

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xtruss · 3 years

Text

Chinaphobia

Global CEOs Weigh the Risk of Doing Business in China as Tensions Rise

— By Bill Poell | 08/11/21 | Newsweek

Photo Illustration By Gluekit; XI BY Emmanuele Contini/NurPhoto/Getty

For multinational companies, the ever-increasing tension between Beijing and its trading partners complicates the challenge of doing business in China. Just last month, the National Security Agency got wind of a massive cyber hack underway into Microsoft's Exchange email server. Within hours the NSA had determined where the assault had originated: the People's Republic of China. The PRC had over the years repeatedly forsworn any intention to hack into U.S. corporate computer systems and steal intellectual property. President Xi Jinping, in fact, had given Barack Obama his word, in September 2015, that China would not engage in commercial cyber espionage.

That was a lie, and now the Biden White House was fed up. While refraining, for the moment, to impose new sanctions against Beijing, it immediately contacted key allies, led by Japan, and asked them to join Washington in issuing a formal joint complaint to Beijing, which they did in late July.

"Beijing's message was unmistakable: You must choose. If you want to do business in China, it must be at the expense of American values" - Matt Pottinger, President Trump's “CHINAPHOBIC” Deputy National Security Adviser

This marked a difference from the aggressively unilateral approach on trade that the Trump administration took, and was the first significant demonstration that the Biden administration meant it when it said it would work closely with allies to respond to China's economic predations.

In government offices in Tokyo and in European capitals, the change was welcome. "Now, on cybersecurity, we will be working closely with the United States, as well as other like-minded countries, to take countermeasures," Japanese Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga told Newsweek in an exclusive interview, via Zoom, during the Tokyo Olympics. "This is going to be a public-private effort. And in that, we'll be working closely with the United States."

Given how intertwined Tokyo's economy is with China's, Japanese companies are very much in the crosshairs. Japan over the past 30 years has poured $140 billion in direct investment into China, compared to $110 billion from the U.S. Tokyo now trades more with China than with the United States, as does Washington's other key East Asian ally, South Korea.

Joe Biden, who has pledged to work with allies to counter Beijing’s economic predation. Drew Angerer/Getty

In government offices in Tokyo and in European capitals, the change was welcome. "Now, on cyber security, we will be working closely with the United States, as well as other like-minded countries, to take countermeasures," Japanese Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga told Newsweek in an exclusive interview, via Zoom, during the Tokyo Olympics. "This is going to be a public-private effort. And in that, we'll be working closely with the United States."

Ever since Deng Xiaoping reopened China to the world in 1979, the country has seemed a promised land for businessmen and women around the world. First as a source of virtually limitless low wage labor with which to make their products, then as a vast market itself, the allure of the China Dream was unmatched.

To some extent, as the trade and investment statistics illustrate, that dream has been realized. But now, with escalating friction over trade and human rights, doing business with China is fraught. As the West squares off with Beijing in the 21st century's version of the Cold War, multinational companies are caught in the middle. As Matt Pottinger, President Trump's Deputy National Security Adviser says, "the ideological dimension of the competition [between China and the West] is inescapable, even central." CEOs—in the U.S., Japan and across the developed world—"need to come to grips with how much the situation has changed over the past few years and acknowledge that those changes are almost certainly here to stay."

This is the last place most CEOs ever thought they would be. Many companies have invested decades of time and millions of dollars setting up business in China. Auto companies like Volkswagen, Toyota and General Motors have joint ventures producing cars all over the country. In 2013, China became GM's largest market, and it has remained so ever since. Intel spent $2.5 billion on a new computer chip factory in Dalian in northeast China.

Top Chinese diplomat Yang Jiechi, who has warned of crossing “red lines.” Kimimasa Mayama/Pool/AFP/Getty

More and more, those companies' home governments are wondering whether those investments were wise. And Beijing is pressuring them to behave. When Biden assumed office, China waged a furious lobbying campaign aimed at CEOs in the U.S. and allied countries like Japan. Beijing urged them to weigh in against Trump-era trade restrictions. In a virtual meeting in February, Beijing's top diplomat, Yang Jiechi, told a group of American businessmen and former government officials that China was still very much open for business, but warned that issues like Tibet, Hong Kong, Xinjiang (where thousands of ethnic Uighurs are imprisoned) and Taiwan were "red lines" they must avoid.

As Pottinger said in a speech at Stanford's Hoover Institution in late March, "Beijing's message was unmistakable: You must choose. If you want to do business in China, it must be at the expense of American values."

U.S. allies heard the message as well. Many multinationals have already seen their businesses suffer as trade conflict ratcheted up. European powerhouse Ericsson AB, the second largest maker of cellular equipment in the world, said in mid-July that its sales in China had plunged, and warned that its market share there would likely diminish sharply in the coming months. The reason? Sweden late last year banned China's Huawei from the country's buildout of its 5G telecommunications network.

Multinational companies in every industry doing business in China are acutely aware that as the geopolitical environment worsens, all the money and effort they have put into building their businesses there could be at risk. In a recent, candid interview with Newsweek, Takeshi Niinami, the chief executive officer of Suntory, the Tokyo-based beer and spirits maker, said when weighing the risks of expanding the company's business in China, he and his team of senior executives must confront the possibility of a worst-case scenario: confiscation.

"Do we take the risk, or not?" Factoring in the possibility of confiscation is part of the calculus for foreign companies operating in China, says Takeshi Niinami, CEO of Japanese liquor maker Suntory. Shiho Fukada/Bloomberg/Getty

"We have to decide whether to expand production facilities or not in China," Niinami says. "Should we invest more knowing that the possibility of confiscation [exists]? Do we take the risk or not—and to what extent? If it's a 10 billion [yen investment], maybe not. Five billion? Probably. So we have to judge to what extent we can tolerate confiscation."

Global CEOs are rarely so blunt when discussing their business in China, but Suntory's risk analysis is rooted in reality. Beijing already has a record of punishing companies from countries who make decisions it disapproves of. In early 2017, giant South Korea retailer Lotte agreed to give land it owned to the Seoul government so that the U.S. could build a missile defense system aimed at deterring North Korea. Beijing insisted that the system's radar could also track its own military flights, and launched an economic war against the giant South Korean retailer. For months it shuttered Lotte's 10 stores across the country and disrupted its duty free shopping website—costing the company nearly $200 million in sales.

South Korean retailer Lotte lost nearly $200 million in sales when its 10 stores in China were closed during a dispute with Beijing. Zhang Peng/LightRocket/Getty

For countries like Japan and other developed economies, there are two primary concerns facing them and their companies. One is the increasing techno-national competition between Beijing and the West. In 2015, China issued an ambitious plan to develop leading companies in a wide array of high tech industries—from biotechnology to robotics to telecommunications and beyond. Among its goals is to have 70 percent of the components used in its own high tech industries be sourced domestically. And by 2049—the 100th anniversary of the Communist Party coming to power in Beijing—it seeks to have world class competitors in no less than 14 key high tech industries.

For an industrially sophisticated, high-tech nation like Japan, China 2025 presents a big problem. CEOs like Niinami of Suntory can continue to invest in China in pursuit of 1.3 billion customers, knowing that its business isn't targeted by Chinese economic planners. "But not technology companies," Niinami told Newsweek. Companies like Fanuc in industrial robotics, or Toshiba and Fujitsu in artificial intelligence, can no longer look at China as an ordinary market. High tech companies "have to view Beijing as a predator, and protect their intellectual property at all costs," says a former board member at Nissan, the Tokyo-based automaker, who requested anonymity in order to speak candidly.

The other driver of corporate investment decisions is the fallout from the COVID-19 pandemic, which originated in China and showed multinational companies across the world just how vulnerable their supply chains are. In mid-June the Biden administration completed its 100-day review of U.S. supply-chain vulnerabilities. The results were eye-opening and, for a lot of companies, depressing. The review called for sweeping changes in how the government interacts with private companies, offers subsidies to a range of high tech industries (just as Beijing does) and presses companies to bring back supply chains long ago offshored to China.

Volkswagen, Toyota and General Motors are among the foreign auto companies with joint ventures to produce vehicles in China. Here, a VW factory in Dresden, Germany. Sebastian Kahnert/Picture Alliance/Getty

Prime Minister Suga was ahead of the U.S. president. Last year, Tokyo announced that it would devote $650 million in subsidies to help 87 companies move manufacturing out of China to either southeast Asia or back to Japan. Some analysts heralded the announcement as the commencement of a great "decoupling" of the Japanese economy from China's.

It wasn't. As Scott Kennedy, a senior fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, a Washington, D.C., think tank, points out, "a perusal of the list of companies receiving aid are small and medium-sized enterprises, not major Japanese manufacturers with extensive investments in China." Moreover, a substantial portion of them are in two sectors—medical equipment and specialty chemicals—which were in high demand during the pandemic. Altogether, the Suga subsidy program affects just 1 percent of total Japanese investment in China.

Balancing an economic relationship with China against a worsening geopolitical climate is a delicate, complicated business. For major companies across the globe, the China dream—a huge, prosperous country with a massive middle class snapping up their wares—dies hard.

Consider the case of Microsoft. If the Biden administration was angry over China's cyberattack against the tech behemoth, Microsoft's management was embarrassed. The company over the years has endured Chinese abuse and constantly come back for more. For years, you could buy pirated versions of Microsoft's Windows computer operating system and programs like Word from street vendors in Beijing and Shanghai for the equivalent of a couple of bucks. Microsoft kept accepting Beijing's assurances that things would get better, and right up to this day has kept investing. Less than one month before the July cyberattack against its Exchange system, Bloomberg and other news agencies reported that Microsoft intended to invest billions of dollars in four new massive data centers in China, in the hopes of capturing Chinese businesses moving to store their data in the cloud.

What Happens Now?

For multinational companies and governments alike, the Microsoft news this summer neatly captured the dilemma of dealing with Beijing. Reconciling the economic opportunity China still presents with the present dangers it poses will be a critical task for years to come. As Suntory's CEO Niinami suggests, companies producing run-of-the-mill consumer goods can relax because nothing much about their China business will change (aside from the fact that their competitors continually become more formidable).

Barack Obama with Xi Jinping in 2016. Xi promised that China wouldn't engage in commercial cyber espionage. Wang Zhou/Pool/Getty

But technology companies, particularly those that Beijing singles out in its Made in China 2025 program, are in for a rough ride. For them, Deng Xiaoping's famous mantra of "reform and opening" has been replaced by "reform and closing," says James McGregor, the former head of the American Chamber of Commerce in Beijing, now Greater China Chairman for consulting firm APCO Worldwide. The computer chip industry, McGregor says, is "at the top of the list of America's threatened industries." American chip makers are going to have to re-evaluate their China presence, and confront the likelihood that the huge and lucrative market will be controlled by domestic competitors in the coming decades.

That is likely to be true in a number of other businesses, from machine tools and robotics to new energy materials. Beijing seeks to dominate these industries. The task for multinationals and their home governments going forward will be to play defense to the greatest extent possible: push back against intellectual property theft as vigorously as possible to force Beijing to achieve its ambitious economic goals on its own.

For CEOS across the globe, that is hardly the stuff of which China Dreams are made. But it is the bleak reality confronting them now.

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