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hi-hey-haechan · 4 years

Note

Can I also request 79 with renjun and 3 + 56 with jaemin :)

(I had done the 79 one with my last post). Thank you for requesting!

Prompt list is here.

I write for NCT (all units, but not for Jisung or Chenle), Stray Kids, and Ateez.

3: “You’re not going out wearing that outfit.”

56: “I’m not jealous! It’s just...you’re mine!”

Warnings: It’s really long, and there’s smut, but it’s not as detailed as I usually write it.

The boys had invited you and Jaemin over to the dorms that day, simply for the purposes of being crackheads. With them, you always knew that you’d have an interesting time. “Y/n”, Jaemin called out to you, “Let’s go!”

You had just finished getting ready, so you grabbed your bag and ran down the hall of your shared apartment. “Patience, grasshopper,” you rolled your eyes.

What you heard next shocked you, for it was completely unwarranted and out of absolutely nowhere. However, Jaemin’s eyes were on your body, which kind of made you feel like a piece of meat on display. Before you were about to say my eyes are up here, he said, “You’re not going out wearing that outfit.”

Sure, Jaemin was protective, of you, but hearing him say that, in a voice that was deep yet slightly vulnerable, sort of made you worry. “I-is it bad? It’s just a cropped top and shorts. Does it really look that awful on me?” you inquired back, suddenly insecure about what you were wearing. You felt comfortable in the outfit, but if it really didn’t look good on you, then you supposed you would change clothes.

His stubborn expression softened, and he stepped forward and grabbed your hands. “Baby,” he told you quietly, in a soft voice, which was free of all the harshness it had possessed a few seconds ago, “I mean that you look so damn good that all the guys are gonna be staring at you. You look good in anything, Y/n, but we can’t have the other guys thinking the same thing. Well, okay, they can, but if any of them looks at your ass in these shorts, I’m gonna have to kill them.”

“Jaemin!” you laughed, hitting his chest lightly with your palm. “I’m not changing.”

“That’s fine. It’s ultimately your choice,” he replied.

And with that, you both got into the car. He wasn’t going to fight with you on what you were wearing, even if you looked so good, to the point where the other boys would be thinking the same thing. Even still, Jaemin couldn’t stop staring at your legs, and how perfectly they were being shown off, thanks to your shorts. His eyes also were pulled to the strip of bare skin left exposed by your cropped top. He couldn’t help but think of how soft the skin would be under his skin…

These thoughts consumed Jaemin’s mind all the way to the dorms (which, admittedly, was only a couple minutes away).

The boys were already a mess as soon as you entered the dorms. Jisung and Chenle were trying to see if different parts of the wall would make noise if they threw the same ball at it. You didn’t understand this. Why would they test the sounds the interior of the house would make after lodging a cheap, plastic, red ball at the wall to attempt to make music.

“And this is why I really can’t leave you people alone in the dorms to fend for yourselves, can I?” Jaemin inquired tiredly. However, at the sight of his brothers having fun and being crackheads, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you miss them?” you asked him quietly. You were referring to how he’d recently moved out of the dorms so the two of you could get an apartment together.

Jaemin squeezed your hand. “Sometimes,” he whispered back. “But I’ve never been as happy as I am with us together, at our home.”

His answer was difficult for him to come up with, but you understood what he was saying, and what he meant.

And you felt the same way, missing his insane stories about what the boys did at 3 AM, but you were ultimately happy, and that was what mattered.

You walked over to the couch, meaning to sit on it. You almost sat on Renjun’s legs as he was lying down, taking up the entire length of the couch. He seemed pretty immersed in his phone, and his earbuds were in. Just that one time, you decided against kicking him. When you looked up, You saw Jeno staring at you. You couldn’t tell if he was staring into your eyes or staring at places lower down on you than your face.

Clearly, Jaemin noticed, too. He walked right up to you and snaked a warm arm around you, as if to say, “my girlfriend.”

“Let’s play a game!” Jaemin suggested loudly to lighten the odd mood and keep everything as crackheaded as they should be. “There’s a mini basketball hoop in the middle of the room. Let’s put it to use, shall we?”

“Fine,” Renjun sighed, averting his eyes from his phone. “We should do teams of two. Each group has a minute to shoot as many baskets at a time.”

“See, Renjun?” Jaemin inquired. His voice was cheeky, and you knew he was going to say something in the form of a roast. “If you’re not on your phone, you can see my handsome face in real life, and that’s a blessing to everyone.”

Renjun just rolled his eyes but you glanced at your boyfriend teasingly. “Your biggest fan is yourself,” you grinned.

“If Y/n is on Jaemin’s team, they’ll win,” Chenle said, calming down from his throwing of plastic and rubber balls against the wall.

“Then I’ll be on Y/n’s team,“Jeno replied. From where you were sitting, you saw Jaemin’s face fall a bit. He seemed a bit jealous, for some reason, which was so absurd to you.

The six of you divided into teams: You and Jeno, Jisung and Jaemin (sort of against Jisung’s will), and Chenle and Renjun. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

Jaemin and Jisung were first to go, despite their constant protests. The ball had to be shot from two feet in front of the 3.5 foot machine, a rule made by all of you (except you all decided it in meters, and the author incorrectly wrote it as feet). The sixty seconds was full of Jisung being yelled at by his partner, who was commonly at fault for the things being yelled about. Jaemin pouted and whined for sixty seconds straight, and you were all laughing at him. He missed most of the shots, and for those shots that went over the machine, he made Jisung get them, before scolding him for not being fast enough. In the end, they ended up with eight baskets only, a criteria that didn’t seem difficult to beat.

Right before your turn, you whispered your plan to Jeno. Chenle began the timer, and the round began. Jeno threw the ball to you, which you caught and simply placed in the basket. You tossed the ball back to him, and the cycle continued. Within sixty seconds, you had managed to dunk 24 baskets.

When the timer ran out, you and Jeno hugged celebratorily, jumping up and down. In doing so, your phone fell out of your pocket, onto the ground. It was left unscathed, luckily. You didn’t see Jaemin’s eyes on you. He was looking at your legs, admiring how the muscles flexed as you kneeled to the ground and stood up to grab your phone. He admired the curve of your ass, the way your legs were left mostly exposed in your shorts. His mind flew to the feeling of your legs under the palms of his hands, when he’d carefully caress your thighs to tease you, or how they’d wrap around his waist when he pounded into you...shoot.

And distracted by those thoughts, Jaemin felt some of his blood rush south. He barely even noticed Jisung protesting the score of the game, how you and Jeno had cheated.

“They’re supposed to be behind the line!” Jisung protested.

“Actually, only the shooter is. I didn’t have to be,” you pointed out, secretly pleased with the loophole you’d found in the rules.

“Jisung, she’s smarter than us,” Jeno laughed. “Drop it.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, the both of you unable to hide the smug looks on your faces at Jisung’s defeat.

“Y/n,” Jaemin said quietly, “can I talk to you? Alone?” You looked at him, and saw the not-so-happy expression written across his face. It wasn’t angry, and it wasn’t sad, either. Either way, it hurt your heart to see.

You stepped out of Jeno’s half-embrace and followed after Jaemin. He walked through the room, into a hallway, turning at the bedroom that he and Jisung once shared.

“Are you okay?” you asked worriedly. “You seemed kind of...I don’t know...sad? Ticked off? I’m not even sure.”

“Yeah, just, seeing you with Jeno, and hugging him…” Jaemin trailed off. His confident façade was down, and you were seeing him vulnerable. Despite being his girlfriend of three years, you didn’t see him upset too often. He didn’t seem to know how to finish his sentence. Your boyfriend wasn’t even looking at you, and his eyes were trained at the ground.

“Jaemin, you don’t have to be jealous.”

His head shot straight up, making direct eye contact with you. “I’m not jealous! It’s just...you’re mine!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get jealous before.”

“I don’t get jealous; that’s ridiculous. Why would I be jealous when anyone would be whipped for all of my amazing charms, and my incredible charasma, and my hugs, which are so much better than Jeno��s-”

You kissed him on the mouth, really just to shut him up. Him rambling on about how he was “totally not jealous” was cute, though.

The kiss quickly deepened, your mouths slow and sensual against each others’ at first, but growing more passionate and deep by the second. His hands grabbed onto your waist, feeling your warm, smooth bare skin under his hands. With a wrench, he broke away,

“Are you sure you’re okay? Come on, kiss me,” you pleaded in a quiet voice.

“I’m fine. It’s just…” he trailed off again, and decided to let actions speak his words for him. He bucked his hips against you, allowing you to feel how hard he was.

Your eyes widened, and you looked up, making eye contact with him. His warm brown eyes were consumed by the widened, black pupil, showing you how much he already wanted you. “How did that happen?” you asked.

“So you know how I said that the members would enjoy you in that outfit too much? Well, I enjoyed it too much. Seeing the way you move turned me on, somehow.”

“Jaemin, you really could have just said, before we left the house, ‘You’re not going out wearing that outfit because instead of going anywhere, I’m going to fuck you now, for your legs look really good in those shorts and are making me feel some type of way.’ Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

He leaned in to peck your lips, and then he whispered, “It would have been easier. But instead, now that we aren’t home, it looks like I’m gonna have to take care of this problem right here, right now.”

And this, of course, led to a bunch of making out, as well as very clumsy and very lame stripped of clothing.

When his hard length entered you, your back was pressed into Jaemin’s old mattress. Part of Jaemin wanted to pound into you so hard that you’d loudly moan out his name, showing Jeno who made you feel this good.

And that part of him won out this round. He watched his cock disappear and thrust in and out of your tight hole. The sounds of your moans urged him on, and they were like music to his ears. Anywhere his mouth could reach, he was kissing you, biting and sucking any exposed skin until your collarbones. neck, and chest.

Part of him wanted to ask if Jeno could make you feel so good, but it didn’t seem to fit the moment, and you were okay with that. His thick length filled you up so well, hitting your sweet-spot dead-on. With your moans, Jaemin was urged on, thrusting into you harder as you clenched around him incredibly tightly.

When you both came, you climaxed hard. Your walls caved in on themselves, and you saw stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans and cries of your boyfriend’s name rang off the walls, and his fluid was released inside of you.

Due to that occurrence, the boys stood out in the main room of their dorms, rolling their eyes and looking confused, as well as concerned, when they heard your and Jaemin’s moans and voices from all the way down the hall. Jaemin wouldn’t have to worry about Jeno knowing that you were Jaemin’s girlfriend, and not his.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #jaemin smut #00 line smut #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #00 line imagines #prompt list #dialogue prompt #asks #nct #nct dream #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #we_will_winwin

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datheetjoella · 4 years

Text

Fantober 2020, Day 30: Domesticated

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 30/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,821 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Domesticity, Accidental Marriage Proposal Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Unlike many others, Haruka didn't go to work in the morning with dread in his gut. He had turned his passion into his career and despite there still being days when we'd rather swim leisurely than be barked at by his coach, he hadn't reached the point yet where he had gotten tired of training.

Nevertheless, Haruka's favourite moment of the day was unlocking the door to their apartment, where he could relax on the couch and unwind in the bath, but most importantly, where he could see Makoto again. Finally, that moment had arrived.

Muffled noises resonated through the walls, informing him that Makoto was home early. That knowledge brought a smile to Haruka's face. Although his day had been pretty good so far, he could always use a bright grin, a loving embrace and a tender kiss. Time to replenish his Makoto-well.

He stashed his key back into his pocket and pushed down the doorknob. "I'm home," he called out as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't get a response, so he ditched his bag in front of the bathroom door and went inside.

Makoto was standing in the middle of the living room with his back turned to him, pushing their wireless, low-decibel vacuum around the coffee table. It had been a gift from his mom on his previous birthday - yes, Haruka had reached the age where his parents gave him practical things as presents. Recently, she had become obsessed with high-tech appliances and after he off-handedly mentioned the cord of the vacuum getting tangled when he was on the phone with her while cleaning, she took it upon herself to rid him of those issues.

It had cost far more than Haruka would ever be willing to pay for a vacuum cleaner, but admittedly, it performed amazingly and left their old, cheap one in the dust. Vacuuming had been at the bottom of both of their lists in terms of chore-preferences, but this one ran so smoothly it eradicated the reasons they disliked it.

But the vacuum wasn't why Makoto hadn't heard him; after all, it was relatively quiet. It were the headphones covering his ears that caused him to miss Haruka's arrival.

Haruka opened his mouth to call out again rather than touching his shoulder or jumping in front of him, lest he startle him. But he abruptly shut up when Makoto started to sing along to his music.

His soft voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and the notes immediately nestled themselves in a chamber of Haruka's heart. Ever since they were kids, Makoto had been the better singer between the two of them, but as he grew older and his voice matured, Makoto improved even more. His vocal range was pretty wide so he could effortlessly sing along to a variety of genres, be it mellow ballads or high-tempo rock songs. While Makoto's voice was already a treat to listen to when he talked, hearing him sing was a rare but very welcome massage to Haruka's eardrums.

To suit his voice, Makoto's taste in music was also very broad. He enjoyed almost anything, so sharing earbuds with him or passing him the aux cord in the car meant Haruka was in for a surprise. This time, he was singing along to an upbeat song by some foreign pop group that was often played on the radio and in stores. The lyrics described the sea breeze and silver sand on a summer night and although it was a bit out of season now they were well into autumn, Makoto's beautiful voice made it sound like a timeless serenade.

With bated breath, Haruka watched and listened. The sight of Makoto singing while vacuuming was rather mundane, something that could happen on any given day of the week, yet it made Haruka's chest brim with profound affection. He could travel the world, eat mackerel at Michelin-star restaurants, swim in every body of water within existence, and he still wouldn't be as happy as he was now. Trophies and the thrill of competing were a great bonus, but all that mattered was this; after work, he came home to the person he loved more than life itself, carefree and content.

When Makoto turned around the table to vacuum the floor on the other side, their eyes met and a wide smile lit up his handsome face. "Ah, Haru, I didn't hear you come in. Welcome home."

Naturally, Haruka smiled too. "I'm home," he said again.

After he turned off the vacuum, Makoto fished his phone out of his pocket to stop the music and put his headphones down on the table. Then, he went over to Haruka to engulf him in a big hug and welcome him home properly. As their lips met in a gentle kiss, Haruka realised he had been wrong; this was his favourite moment of the day.

He cupped Makoto's face, the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw prickling his fingertips and although it was a feeling he otherwise found unpleasant, the roughness was kind of nice now. It was a part of Makoto and since it would be gone tomorrow morning after he shaved, Haruka had to savour it now.

Makoto pulled back sooner than he would've liked, but Haruka wouldn't sweat it. There was more than enough time left in the day to dedicate to loving kisses.

"When you unload your bag, you can leave your towels and swimsuit in front of the washing machine instead of putting them in the laundry basket," Makoto said, "I'm doing laundry anyway so I'll put them in once this round is done."

"Vacuuming, doing laundry," Haruka said with a huff of amusement, "Are you aiming to be a house husband?"

"Depends." Makoto shrugged. "Are your applications open?"

"I guess."

"Then does that mean I'm hired?"

"Who else would I hire?"

Makoto chuckled. "Does that mean we're married now?"

A large question mark appeared above Haruka's head. Had he just proposed to Makoto? "Engaged, I think?" Haruka said with a frown. This was not how he expected this milestone to go down. He'd thought there would be at least more gasps of surprise, fireworks and perhaps even a tear or two. Not a joking remark on an extraordinarily normal day. "This is the most confusing proposal I've ever heard."

More melodic laughter streamed from Makoto's mouth. "It's not exactly how I had envisioned it either, but I must say I quite like it. It was so easy and natural, like everything else between us is, too," he said and he did have a point. "Besides, I'm happy with the upgrade. I was never a fan of the term 'boyfriends' anyway. 'Fiancés' has a much nicer ring to it, doesn't it?"

In Haruka's opinion, it did sound a lot better. Fiancé was more encompassing than the term boyfriend was, and while Makoto was undoubtedly his boyfriend, he was so much more than that. He was his best friend, his better half, his Makoto. "How did you think of me before if you don't like the word 'boyfriend' then?"

"My partner, my significant other, my best friend with a whole bunch of benefits," Makoto said with a playful raise of his eyebrows, but then he smiled, soft and genuine. "My Haru-chan."

It was the answer Haruka could've predicted, yet it still made heat rush to his cheeks. "Drop the '-chan'."

Makoto snorted. He raised his hand and carded his fingers through Haruka's black locks. "Hey, Haru?"

"What?"

"Do you think I'll be a good husband?"

"Your cooking skills can use some brushing up," Haruka said with a smirk, earning himself an offended 'hey!' from Makoto. "But other than that, you'll be the perfect husband."

"Thanks," Makoto said, leaning down to plant a kiss on the tip of Haruka's nose. "You will, too, but I already told you that, didn't I?"

Haruka nodded, smiling as he recalled it. "During our second year of high school, when I was teaching you how to cook mackerel in miso for Ran and Ren."

"Back then, you said you weren't interested in getting married."

It was true. When he was younger he had no intention to get married, but that was because it wasn't possible to marry Makoto and it wasn't like there was anyone else he wanted to be with. It was a great relief that over the years, it had become an option. "I changed my mind."

A warm twinkle shone in Makoto's eyes. "I'm glad. Although I'm happy enough just being with you, there's something extra special about our relationship being officially and legally recognised, don't you think?"

Haruka nodded. According to their friends, they'd been like an old married couple since they were kids so in that regard, nothing would change. But even if the nature of their bond didn't change, the way the world viewed them would. Whenever Haruka met someone new, it was difficult to explain what Makoto was to him: with the title of husband, all those problems would vanish and everyone would understand immediately that Makoto was his world.

"If we get married in a few years, we'll be able to save up for a ceremony on the beach, and maybe for a honeymoon in Okinawa," Makoto said and Haruka's heart swelled at the thought, "But for now, we'll enjoy the fiancé-stage of our relationship."

"Yeah," Haruka said. Their lives were a bit too hectic to get married right away, but that didn't mean they couldn't fantasise about it. They would have plenty of time to dream up the perfect wedding. "To celebrate our engagement, I'll cook a special dinner tonight. What would you like to eat?"

"Mackerel."

"Mackerel?" Haruka asked with a frown. "Not green curry?"

Makoto shook his head. "Mackerel is my fiancé's favourite food."

That made Haruka's stomach flutter. Could Makoto be any more kind and selfless? He was truly proving himself as husband-material. "I'll make a chocolate cake for dessert then. That's my fiancé's favourite pastry."

At the mention of chocolate cake, Makoto's smile softened. "Thanks, Haru," he said and pressed a sweet kiss to Haruka's lips. "There isn't anyone in the entire world who I'd rather spend my life with, so thank you for choosing to be with me again and again."

"Me neither," Haruka said, tightening his arms around Makoto's neck. Revealing the contents of his heart remained to be something he struggled with, but Makoto deserved to hear just how much he meant to him. No matter how difficult something was, for Makoto he'd always try his best. "I love you."

"I love you too," Makoto said as he leaned their foreheads together, their noses touching. "So, so much."

Their eyes fell shut as their lips met in another passionate kiss.

If every day with Makoto was this domestic and comfortable, then Haruka was already looking forward to all the years yet to come.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #my fic #fantober2020 #colourful days with you

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yinxiong · 4 years

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you’re a sunflower (i think your love would be too much)

muse: cha eunwoo x reader (3rd person perspective)

genre: florist! au, fluff

word count: 2628

warnings: none

notes: title from sunflower by post malone and swae lee

Love is colored red like a rose, they say. It’s sweet and pretty and delicate, and when you find it, it should overwhelm you to the point where you’re no longer able to breathe.

Cliché? Very. Poetic? Enough. Romantic? Sure, if Eunwoo didn’t dislike roses so much.

He didn’t hate them, per se. In fact, he found roses to be quite lovely flowers, especially the yellow and pink stems he likes to use in soft spring baskets, or the little sprays of purple he prefers for smaller bouquets.

But why roses? Why not tulips? Asters? Gardenias? Jasmine?

Why must the truest love be in the form of a red rose?

They’re not even that pretty, to begin with.

It really made Valentine’s Day (or any other popular romantic occasion) a living hell. Each year, he always found himself drowning in a mountain of brilliant red bouquets, skin scratched and pricked from the merciless thorns, head spinning from the too-strong scent that would leave him reeling for the next week. Not quite unlike his current situation, actually— finishing an absurd order for a summer wedding that decided red roses were to be the main flower of the night. Now, Eunwoo probably shouldn’t be judging the kind of flowers people picked for weddings, because that’s literally none of his business and they should be able to do whatever they wanted for their special day. But sometimes, he just wished they had a little more… well, taste. Plus, roses were barely still in season, and finding the right farm to order from had already given him a big enough headache to deal with.

Halfway into the twenty-something centerpieces he was becoming increasingly agitated with, the sort-of-peace and quiet Eunwoo had fallen in tune with is interrupted by the ever so familiar chime of the antique bell hanging over the shop door. Oh right, he’s still open today, regardless of the ridiculous amount of roses he has to arrange together. To make matters worse, Sanha and Minhyuk were out on a delivery and (like always) taking their sweet time, hence leaving him to man the shop alone. He should probably stop being cheap and hire some extra hands to help around instead of drowning himself in work all the time.

Pushing away from the overflowing worktable, Eunwoo stands and stretches out his arms, glancing at the old clock ticking on the backroom’s wall as he heaves a yawn— 9:12 a.m. Not bad considering how he had started at seven and already finished prepping all the corsages and boutonnieres, though that meant there were only a few hours left until everything was to be packed and shipped out to the wedding venue in time.

Ah, who cares for deadlines. He really, really needed a break or else he’ll start having nightmares about roses for the rest of his life.

Hurrying out to the front counter, Eunwoo wipes his hands on his apron and runs them through his messy hair in an attempt to appear slightly more presentable. Three out of ten chances it actually worked (thanks to the stubborn cowlick that always stuck up in the back), though it was worth a try. And even if he didn’t look thoroughly kempt, at least he had his smile to distract from the mess he currently was.

“Welcome to Once and Flor-al! How can I help you today?” Fixing a grin onto his face, he peers around in search of his customer-slash-savior. His eyes settle on a girl inspecting the tub of marigolds by he had set out by the windows this morning. However, before he can approach her and make another greeting, she straightens up and turns around, plucking an earbud out of her ear as she focuses her gaze on Eunwoo. Well, not exactly Eunwoo, but he doesn’t realize that until she opens her mouth to reply.

“Damn, that’s an awful lot of roses back there. It’s not even Valentine’s Day?”

Eunwoo winces, wishing the ground would just swallow him up out of pure embarrassment. Of all first impressions he could’ve given her, of course it just had to be related to the roses he didn’t even like. He’s never going to take rose orders at this size ever again.

“Uhh… yeah. Don’t worry about that,” he mumbles, taking a step over to block the open doorway of the backroom. “It’s a disaster back there.”

Despite Eunwoo’s hopes of ending the conversation topic there, the girl seemed to have other ideas in mind. “It looks like the Queen of Hearts is preparing world domination or something. Or it’s her wedding. Is someone having a wedding?”

“Um, sure. Wedding.” Eunwoo bites his lip, feeling his confusion grow ever so slightly. “Anyways, is there anything I can help you with? Are you here to buy flowers, or…?”

“Oh! My roommate wants flowers for a date.”

“Your roommate?” Eunwoo echoes, tilting his head to the side curiously. “Not for yourself?”

She nods, “Yeah, he asked me to go get some since he’s busy cooking for the date and refuses to leave the kitchen to me because he doesn’t trust me not to ruin anything. Which, I personally disagree with, since I cook for us more than he does, but it’s his date so whatever. He also doesn’t have an aesthetic bone in his body, so I guess I’ll just take one for the team and get the flowers myself.”

Although taken aback by her long spiel of an answer, Eunwoo finds himself cracking a small smile at her talkative nature. “Sounds like a nice roommate. You’re not jealous of the date?”

The girl immediately makes a face of disgust. “Hell no, Myungjun is the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met. I mean he’s a great friend, but there is no way I’d ever want to date him. He’s gay, anyways.”

“Ah. I hope his date goes well then!” Eunwoo’s not sure why he feels so relieved all of a sudden, or why his heart is beating so quickly in the first place. Maybe it had something to do with how cute the girl… no, he had to be professional here, what the hell was he even doing? “So, any specific flowers in mind? Did, uh, Myungjun request anything in particular?”

His queries are met with a shake of her head. “No, he just told me to get ‘the nicest bouquet they sell’ and make it quick. Though I’ll make a confession, I’m probably just clueless as he is to picking pretty and meaningful flowers.”

“Well, I mean I can help. That is my job, after all,” Eunwoo offers, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate to help. Which is a really stupid thing to worry about, he thinks a moment later, because he’s the freaking florist and owner of the damn store. Was he really going to be a mess over someone had he just met? Yes, yes he was.

“Oh wait, yeah, I’m dumb.” Letting out a laugh, she breaks into a grin before reaching forward to brush the bright daffodils sitting on the counter. “By the way, this is sort of a personal request as the person who’s delivering the thing, but can you please not put roses in it? At least not red ones? It would be greatly appreciated.”

Eunwoo raises his brow at the sudden request. “No roses? Don’t people love them, though? For romantic stuff, especially.”

“Yeah, but the red ones are just so ugly. In a huge bouquet together, at least. I also can’t really stand the smell of roses. No offense,” she quickly adds, eyes darting back to the huge red mountain in the backroom.

“None taken,” Eunwoo scoffs lightly, ducking his head to hide his growing grin. “Believe me, I’m not a huge fan either.”

“Really? Thank goodness I’m not the only one then.” Her giggles aren’t at all dainty nor delicate, but they’re still a sweet sound to Eunwoo’s ears. “So, uhm, flowers?”

“Oh yes, flowers!” Slipping out from behind the counter, Eunwoo beckons for the girl to follow him.

“Let’s see… asters are in season right now, and I have a ton of colors here today. The purple ones are my favorites, and they go really nicely with the white delphiniums. And yellow gladioli! If you don’t mind, I would add some pink alstroemerias in here too…” One by one, he moves around the room plucking each named flower from their tubs, humming softly as he gathers the blooms and makes his way back to the wooden counter. “And now, we put it all together.”

The girl is surprisingly quiet as Eunwoo begins to work, wordlessly watching him clip the stems and arrange them in a neat bouquet. Halfway in he decides to steal a glance at her face, eyes flitting up to find an expression filled with delighted interest so bright it makes his heart stumble. Cheeks heating up, he quickly refocuses and adds the last bunch of the fillers, grabbing the twine and paper to secure and wrap the bouquet together before he actually does something stupid. As soon as he finishes it off with a pretty pink ribbon, Eunwoo releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, managing another I-know-what-I’m-doing smile as he lifts the creation for her to admire.

“Wow, you’re really good at your job.” Her response comes a few delayed moments later, and if he’s not mistaken, she’s a little breathless saying it. “Like, really good at your job.”

“Haha yeah, I know.” Eunwoo mentally smacks himself in the head at his reply. “I mean, thanks! Thank you, that is my job. To make pretty bouquets.”

She laughs again, radiant and sparkling, and he feels like blushing again. “It’s a very pretty bouquet. How much for your services?”

Eunwoo scrambles over to the register, fumbling with the keys and cash as he counts out the right amount of change for her large bills. Just as he’s printing out the receipt, a very small but loud thought crosses his mind— what if he wrote his number down on the back? Not the business number, but his personal…

“Uhh, sorry for being annoying, but could you tell me what each of these flowers mean? They’re all very lovely and I’m kinda curious,” the girl (how has he still not asked for her name?) asks shyly as she fiddles with her wallet. A little odd considering how lively she seemed earlier, but Eunwoo finds it endearing.

“Of course, the language of flowers is my favorite to explain. And trust me, those wedding roses are a hundred times more annoying than you could ever be.” Adjusting his hold on the bouquet, he begins pointing out the flowers while rattling off the meanings of each. “There are asters, which are a symbol of love and trust. They’ve been around for a while, since the Greeks, who named them after a goddess and for their star-shaped heads. Up top here are yellow gladioli— they mean cheerfulness and compassion— and white delphiniums— which symbolize joy and a big heart. And alstroemeria here,” Eunwoo takes a breath before continuing, “Means friendship and devotion. Probably not a super symbolic flower for a date, but it’s still a beautiful meaning in my mind.”

“Everything in this shop is beautiful,” she blurts, and Eunwoo looks up to see her staring not at the flowers, but straight at him. Their eyes meet, and he’s pretty sure the way her face flushes red as a peony is not a hallucination in the slightest.

Cheesy? Most definitely. Did he care? Most definitely not.

Except just as he’s about to say something just as cheesy back, the moment is broken by the sound of a squawking bird.

“God I’m sorry, that’s my phone. Excuse me for a sec,” she yelps, pulling out the disruptive device and flashing him an apologetic smile before checking the notification. “Ah crap, my roommate is asking where I am.” Pouting, she turns back to him reluctantly. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“It’s alright,” Eunwoo assures her, gingerly handing over the bouquet and trying his best to ignore the way their fingers brush underneath. “I probably should get back to those roses anyways. Here’s the receipt—”

Oh wait, he didn’t get a chance to write his number down. Once again, he mentally smacks himself, but it’s already too late to take it back now. Aaaaa…

Thankfully, the girl doesn’t seem to notice his awkward hesitation, instead brightening up a little when she straightens up to bid him farewell. “Thank you so much, you’ve been super helpful and friendly! I don’t think I’ve ever met a shopkeeper as nice as you.” Balancing the bouquet in one arm, she sticks out her other hand as if for him to shake it. “See you again, uh…?”

“Eunwoo.” Reaching out, he takes her hand and gives her a gentle shake. “Cha Eunwoo.”

Beaming, she replies eagerly with her own name. “Your flower shop is adorable, Mr. Cha Eunwoo. I hope you don’t mind me visiting again in the near future.”

One last sunburst of a laugh and her fingers are slipping out of his own, and Eunwoo is once again left wondering how someone could be so dazzling as to rival the sun.

“Good bye—”

The sun, huh?

“Wait! You forgot something—”

Confused, the girl lowers her hand on the door and turns around to see Eunwoo dash out from behind the counter, making a beeline for the largest tub of flowers he had set out by the windows just when the sun’s first rays had peaked out from over the horizon. He bends over and picks out not the biggest, but the fullest bloom of the bunch, gingerly shaking the water off the stem before rushing over to her side.

“A sunflower,” he pants, holding it out awkwardly like a baton. “Meaning happy thoughts and adoration. And my favorite summer flower. For you. No payment needed.”

Her eyes widen as she takes the single stem from his hand, lips stretching unabashedly when she peers at him once more, “Thank you, it’s gorgeous. I’ll be sure to keep it by my window for as long as possible.” Rising to her toes, she leans in and plants a tiny peck on his cheek. “Though I’ll have to admit, you’re still the prettiest flower here, Eunwoo.”

The doorbell clings almost teasingly as she slips out the shop, leaving Eunwoo behind to sigh and touch his cheek and fall back against the wall with probably the dumbest grin on his face.

Oh, what a terrible mess he was.

“Hey, Eunwoo! We’re back! Do you need any help? Holy shit, that’s still a lot of roses... what are you doing out there? Why do you look so happy? What the hell happened while we were gone?”

Minhyuk’s voice snaps him out of his trance, and he immediately shakes off the lovestruck look to see his two employees peeking out from the backroom with judgemental expressions painted over their features. “Uh, hey guys. You’re back.”

“Glad you noticed,” Sanha snorts. “So, you gonna finish those roses, or? Keep daydreaming?”

Ugh, roses. Why have roses when you can have sunflowers?

“Yeah, I’m coming. Thanks for doing the delivery, by the way.”

“I mean, that’s kind of our job. But you’re welcome,” Minhyuk replies, sharing a mischievous look with Sanha that Eunwoo nearly misses. “Maybe you can repay us by telling what happened when we were out?”

“Haha, very funny. Go help me finish the order or else I’m cutting your pay for this week.”

Red roses still weren’t his favorite flower, but Eunwoo supposes they still had some sort of thing to do with love. Maybe he didn’t have to hate them so much after all.

fin.

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kangtaebins · 3 years

Text

Weird Asks That Say A Lot

I said I was going to just answer all of these bc of boredom,, and so here I am

1. Coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups are aesthetically pleasing idc what anyone says

2. Chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops

3. Bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy supremacy

4. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? I was told that I was a leader a lot, and was told that I was very intelligent. Ah yes, I suffered from gifted kid burn out in high school-

5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Look, plastic cups are the best. Specifically the ones with the lids and reusable straws

6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? It truly depends on the day bc some days I would say goth and other days I’d say grunge, but most days- pastel

7. Earbuds or headphones? Earbuds

8. Movies or TV shows? TV shows bc- idk actually I’m just not a movie person

9. Favorite smell in the summer? I have a weird obsession with the smell of cheap sunscreen and I have no clue why

10. Game you were best at in p.e.? I hated gym in high school and rarely participated despite the teacher being irritated with me (truly she gave up after a few months bc I really did not care at all) HOWEVER- I went to town in volleyball and still enjoy playing volleyball v much

11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day? I don’t eat breakfast often,,,

12. Name of your favorite playlist? Probably my Navy or Indigo playlist

13. Lanyard or key ring? Key ring

14. Favorite non-chocolate candy? Anything green apple!!!

15. Favorite book you read as a school assignment? I actually genuinely enjoyed Romeo And Juliet tbh

16. Most comfortable position to sit in? I always curl up in a ball on the couch, but in a chair I manspread ngl

17. Most frequently worn pair of shoes? Nike slides <//3

18. Ideal weather? Between 50-70 degrees, sunny but not warm, being able to wear a hoodie and not be hot or cold

19. Sleeping position? I usually either sleep on my left side or on my stomach (my back once in a while when it’s hurting bc I’m a hag)

20. Preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? I write on my phone more than anything

21. Obsession from childhood? Hm- I was really obsessed with High School Musical as a kid. My friend and I would put it on and lip sync to the songs and pretend we were the characters

22. Role model? Is it- wrong to say myself? Bc I feel like that sounds arrogant but genuinely it’s bc I’m constantly trying to better myself mentally and learn and grow. Idk I just am proud of who I am and look to myself when I need to find motivation

23. Strange habits? Strange? Idk if it’s strange but I’m constantly twiddling with the hem of my sleeves bc I love the feeling of it

24. Favorite crystal? Citrine

25. First song you remember hearing? WH- bitch idk tf

26. Favorite activity to do in warm weather? Stay tf inside in the air conditioning

27. Favorite activity to do in cold weather? Stay tf inside in the heat

28. Five songs to describe you? To describe me?? Girl idk I'm all over the place. How about songs that resonate with me instead,,, Alive by Khalid, Paranoid by Lauv, Phobia by Dvwn, Fake Smile by Ariana Grande, and Breathin by Ariana Grande

29. Best way to bond with you? Truly I'm not very difficult to get along with, just don't be an asshole. Talk to me about psychology, current events, say Soobin is the cutest to exist idk it's not that hard

30. Places that you find sacred? I- hm. I'm not like a church person or anything so idk. Maybe just anything really old or places with very detailed and unique architecture

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I don't own many clothes,,, let alone nice clothes. I also don't really dress to impress I'd much rather be comfortable

32. Top five favorite vines? Oh god if I h a d to pick???? The lipstick in the Valentino bag, they were roommates, it's an avocado- thaaanks, jared 19, and uh,,, zach stooppp you're gonna get in trouble

33. Most used phrase in your phone? Tbh it's probably "girl what-" or "no bc"

34. Advertisements you have stuck in your head? That 877-CASH-NOW ONE JFC

35. Average time you fall asleep? Between 11pm-1am

36. What is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably the troll face one or smth

37. Suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. Lemonade or tea? I mix them together!

39. Lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon meringue pie bc I don't really like cake

40. Weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Y'all I- went to a hs/college mixed school,, I've seen it all. Weirdest?? Idk but one weird thing I remember was when we were making whistles in art and some dude made a penis whistle 😭

41. Last person you texted? My best friend :))

42. Jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. Hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie 100%

44. Favorite scent for soap? I love soaps that smell like soap. Like ok duh I know that sounds dumb but yk what I mean? I don't want lemon or mint or whatever, I like the plain soap smell

45. Which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy

46. Most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Oversized t-shirt, no pants. I question anyone that is comfortable sleeping with pants on-

47. Favorite type of cheese? Feta!

48. If you were a fruit, what kind would you be? I feel like I'd be a pineapple and I have no clue why

49. What saying or quote do you live by? Not necessarily a quote but more of a thought: live for yourself, enjoy each day, do what gives you joy

50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have? I have had so many instances in which I have laughed so hard I peed and to even attempt to name one is impossible

51. Current stresses? Making sure my family gets their vaccines and stays safe

52. Favorite font? I don't think I have one? Anything except comic sans

53. What is the current state of your hands? What does this even mean 💀 I mean,, they're holding my phone, cold, and my nails are unpolished

54. What did you learn from your first job? That people are assholes but I'm capable of not giving a fuck bc life is not that damn serious

55. Favorite fairy tale? Is The Three Little Pigs considered a fairy tale?

56. Favorite tradition? Putting up the Christmas tree with my mom :( it's always a lot of fun

57. The three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Depression, grief, and hopefully one day- smth I'm currently dealing with

58. Four talents you’re proud of having? Makeup!! But also: singing, crying on command, and tying cherry stems with my tongue

59. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Sick of these bitches

60. If you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? I don't watch anime so idk

61. Favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? It's this line from Eleanor & Park: "Eleanor was right: She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."

62. Seven characters you relate to? Holy hell, 7?? Probably won't get that many but hm,,, Darlene from Roseanne, Hermione from Harry Potter, Emily from Pretty Little Liars maybe?? Idk I suddenly blanked

63. Five songs that would play in your club? As if it's Your Last by BP, anything from SHINee, anything from Ariana, also anything Rihanna, just a bunch of women tbh

64. Favorite website from your childhood? FUCKING WEBKINZ BRO

65. Any permanent scars? I have a few on my arms idk where they came from tbh, I also have one on my hand from my sister 🧍🏻‍♀

66. Favorite flower(s)? Sunflowers!!! I also really love lilacs 💔

67. Good luck charms? My dog's collar that I wear as a bracelet

68. Worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Licorice-

69. A fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? It takes repeating a piece of information 12 times at random to memorize it completely

70. Left or right handed? Right

71. Least favorite pattern? Fucking chevron- and realistic camo, and anything with the American flag

72. Worst subject? Yall im awful at history. American history, world history, all of it-

73. Favorite weird flavor combo? Either pickles and peanut butter or cheese and grapes

74. At what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I'm stubborn but also always in pain so I've become numb to a lot of body pains. I have to be at like a 7-8 before I take smth otherwise I'd always be taking it

75. When did you lose your first tooth? I was probably like 5 I was definitely in Kindergarten

76. What’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I fw baked potatoes

77. Best plant to grow on a windowsill? I have a love for succulents

78. Coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Oh my- I don't drink coffee but coffee from a gas station

79. Which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Driver's license for sure

80. Earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones

81. Fireflies or lightning bugs? I say both,, but I think I say lightning bugs more

82. PC or console? PC

83. Writing or drawing? Both

84. Podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts definitely

84. Barbie or polly pocket? Barbie

85. Fairy tales or mythology? Fairy tales

86. Cookies or cupcakes? C o o k i e s

87. Your greatest fear? Losing people I love

88. Your greatest wish? To live comfortably and be a great mother

89. Who would you put before everyone else? My family

90. Luckiest mistake? Guessing on 90% of a test and getting an A 💀

91. Boxes or bags? Bags are easier to carry-

92. Lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Fairy lights!!

93. Nicknames? Sam, Sammi, my sister calls me Sams, my best friend calls me Bub, and my gf calls me Baby if that counts- 👀

94. Favorite season? Fall omg it's gorgeous and has perfect temperatures

95. Favorite app on your phone? ✨tumblr✨

96. Desktop background? Its literally a pic of Soobin, Taehyun, and Beomgyu

97. How many phone numbers do you have memorized? Like 4-5

98. Favorite historical era? The one where white people learn their fucking place and stop being racist, homophobic, classist, sexist, all the -ists and -phobics,,,, so none. Fuck history :))

#idk what to put in the tags so if you actually read all of these then damn you're the real mvp

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artistic-writer · 5 years

Text

The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 3

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal. Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some. A/N: Here comes the smut!

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics. Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg. Just so you know. There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O. If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :) Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @effulgentcolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

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Killian hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Graham Humbert’s wife since the moment they had parted ways. He felt for her. It was as simple as that. He could see she was unhappy, even by the way she forced a smile onto her pretty face, and he had spent all night reminding himself that she was not his concern. She was simply a job. He was being paid a very large amount to make her happy, and somewhere in his stupid Alpha brain, he had deduced that she would only be happy with him.

Killian shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. His feet pounded the canvas of the treadmill, pin like pain shooting through his calf muscles with every step, arms stiff and bent at the elbow to help balance his movements. The shirt he was wearing was skin tight, a patch of sweat showing down the middle of his back and around the neckline, and his usually tidy hair was a sopping wet mess that stuck to his forehead. Running at the gym was how Killian was trying to punish his mind, maybe get so hot his brain would boil itself alive and realise that Emma was unattainable.

And it wasn’t like she was anything special. Emma was a Beta, just like Graham, so why, after touching only her hand, was Killian so invested in her? There was no explanation, no rhyme or reason really, just a feeling. Killian trusted his instincts more than most and was attuned to the emotions of others. It was why he used toys and didn’t simply fuck anyone he could during a rut. He’d had a girlfriend once, a Beta, but it hadn’t worked out. It didn’t take him long to realise that he was simply a trophy to her, something to show off to her friends, and maybe that was why he felt so connected to Emma, both of them being used at the hands of the one person who should have loved them.

His thought process was interrupted by the waving hand of Will Scarlett and with a few presses of a button, the treadmill began to slow, Killian dropping into a brisk walk before finally stopping altogether. He frowned at his friend, giving him a questioning look as he pulled the earbuds from his ears and his lungs burned with every breath he took.

“Finally,” Will sighed dramatically.

“What?” Killian barked, a little irritated that the vision of Emma on his mind was now replaced by his friend.

“Oh, nothing,” Will sassed, leaning on the control panel of the treadmill. “I’ve only been trying to get your attention for like five minutes.” Killian’s blank stare caused him to roll his eyes. “You said you wanted me to spot for you?”

“Aye, I did,” Killian agreed, suddenly remembering. He stepped off the treadmill on shaky legs and Will handed him his gym towel. “Cheers, mate,” he huffed, still trying to catch his breath as he wiped the dry towel over his face and down his neck.

“Where are you today?” Will asked, concern lacing his words. He held out a bottle of water for Killian too and his friend took it gladly.

“I’m sorry?” Killian gasped, twisting the cap of the water bottle open and guzzling down the entire thing.

“Your mind is elsewhere,” Will noted.

“Is it?” Killian arched a brow innocently.

“Clearly.” Will gave his friend a glance, one Killian had seen many times growing up, and it meant Will could see right through him like he was invisible. Sometimes Killian wondered how Will did it, because he was the only other person, besides Liam, who could tell exactly what he was thinking about.

“It’s nothing,” Killian lied, pretending to look in his gym bag for something.

“Don’t bullshit me, Jones. I know when you are lying,” Will said sternly. “Is it work? Oh!” Will exclaimed a little too loudly, causing half the gym to turn and look at them. “Is it the wife?”

Killian’s cheeks flushed hot and he was thankful for the humidity of the gym to hide his crimson cheeks. “No. Why would it be the wife?”

“Well, have you, you know, fucked her yet?” The gleeful smirk on Will’s face made Killian roll his eyes under the fresh towel that was busy drying up more excess sweat.

“It’s confidential,” Killian said gruffly.

“That means yes then,” Will grinned.

“No,” Killian told him firmly, grabbing his bag and heading across the floor to where the weights were. Will trotted along beside him like an obedient dog eager for a morsel of more gossip. “It means I cannot talk about it or I will not get paid.”

Will craned his neck, eyes widening with shock. “Who is your,-”

“Will,” Killian implored, stopping dead and causing Will to bump into him.

“Alright!” Will huffed, shaking his head and holding his hands up defencelessly. “But have you?” He grinned impishly.

“No!” Killian yelled, again causing the whole gym to turn and look at them. “Listen, I went to the house for a meet and greet and we have a session planned later this week.”

Killian tossed his bag on the floor beside the bench, swinging one leg over in to sit on the padded red leather. Will frowned, and Killian could see the workings of his brain ticking over. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it quickly. Killian settled back, lying on the bench and looking up to his friend over the weight bar.

“Look, I would like to tell you, I really would, but I need the money.” Killian looked down with a sigh and planted his hands firmly on the ridged grip of the bar. His own words shocked even him, and he shook his head. “I need the money, Will.”

“Alright,” his friend said gently. “But you can tell me how much you are getting paid, right? Just say a number.” Will took up place at Killian’s head, gripping the bar and lifting it when Killian gave him the nod.

Technically, Killian could. Graham had never specified, in words or in his stupid contract, that Killian could not disclose his payment amount to anyone. “Twelve,” Killian said through a breath, his voice almost a struggle when the weight of the bar tested the resolve of his elbows.

“Hundred?” Will asked with an almost impressed look in his eye. “My first client was only five-,”

“Thousand,” Killian interrupted quickly, through clenched teeth.

“Twelve thousand dollars?!” Will squeaked, letting go of the bar and sending it crashing into Killian’s chest. He let out a groan, knees hiking up instinctively to try and protect his body from the blow, but all it did was expel air that Killian desperately needed. “Twelve. Thousand. Dollars,” Will repeated slowly, in shock.

“Aye,” Killian nodded, pained by the impact. “Will-,” he began through gritted teeth, his face turning red, but Will carried on his daydream monologue.

“For your first client?” Will asked for clarification.

“Aye,” Killian grumbled again, his wrists beginning to hurt from his exertions. “Will-,” Killian grunted, back arching to try and relieve some of the weight across his chest. “Can you just-”

“Oh shit!” Will scrambled for the bar, Killian turning blue in front of him. He pulled hard, the tearing sensation in his biceps ignored until he heard the metallic sound of the bar hitting the rack. Will raced around the bench, reaching for Killian’s hand and pulling his friend until he was sitting upright again. “Mate, are you alright?” Will fussed, patting Killian on the back as he coughed.

Killian waved him off with a few flicks of his hand, taking a huge breath and blinking to try and focus the red spots in his eyes. He coughed a few times, his whole body burning up from the panic, Will diligently rubbing a cool pack over his neck with worry.

“Say something,” Will begged.

“You’re a terrible spotter,” Killian croaked, clutching his throat.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-,” Will paused, sitting down on the end of the bench with a heaviness in his limbs. “Twelve grand, are you sure?”

Killian nodded, the whites of his eyes stinging from how hard he had been gasping for air. His hand slid from his throat down to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his heart as he leaned forward and ground his teeth through the pain. Killian was sure, even with a little massage, he would feel the bar pressed into his chest for a few weeks yet.

“And she’s beautiful.” The words left Killian’s mouth before he had time to stop them, holding his breath for Will’s reply. There was a silence and when Killian looked up to meet Will’s gaze, he saw real concern on his friends face. “What?” He asked innocently, flicking his gaze down to the bench between them.

“You can’t think like that,” Will told him. “They are just clients, Killian, not dates. Not to mention, yours is clearly married to some rich guy who would end you, Alpha or not.”

“He could try,” Killian smirked.

“Seriously, mate,” Will began, cocking his head to the side. “These things never end well.”

“Calm down,” Killian told him with a nervous laugh. “I’m not going to fall in love with some Beta because I put my dick in her for money.”

“Good,” Will said with a nod, although he wasn’t entirely convinced himself.

It wasn’t like Killian to be nervous, but he really did think the occasion called for it. Tonight was his first night with Graham’s wife, and with the Beta out of town on business, he was a little less stressed. But he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to the mere thought of her. Emma. What a beautiful name, for a stunning beauty of a woman. Ever since she had walked through the door to Humbert’s den a few nights ago he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.

The hue of her skin and the way it radiated in the dim lighting of the room was all he could think about. When she had taken his hand, her fingers were so soft and warm they had sent a jolt of electricity up his arm and made every hair on the back of his neck stand on end. She had been dressed in a white frock, something he was sure Graham made her wear to appear as pure as possible by his side, but Killian could tell by the glint in her eye that she had more sinful tastes.

He wasn’t sure how long he had stood at the door, the cool night air making him shiver as he stared down at the address scrawled onto the piece of paper in his hand. She had written the address to her apartment down for him during the meeting, her fingers grazing his and making the hairs on his forearm spring into alertness. Maybe the shiver down his spine wasn’t from the cold after all. Maybe it was her.

Killian took a breath, steadying himself. How had he become such a soft Alpha? What had Will said? Just think of the prettiest lass you have ever seen. Killian’s only problem was his client was the prettiest woman he had ever seen and if there was any justice in his life, when he lifted his hand and tapped his knuckles on the door, she wouldn’t answer.

The apartment complex was very executive and Killian expected nothing less from Humbert. He would want to make sure Emma was comfortable too, especially for what he had been commissioned to do, but there would be no way on earth he could afford somewhere like this. The walls were freshly painted, the tarnish lingering on his tongue as he inhaled, and every door was identically made of the huge, hardwood he was standing in front of. He knew he was in the right place, not only because of the address in his hand, but because of her scent.

Even as a Beta, Emma had a fantastic smell about her. It was fresh, and floral, like the newly sprung grasses of Spring mixed with the sweetest scent of a rose in bloom. Like a bee he was drawn to her for one thing, and one thing only, rutting and breeding, inexplicably. In the entire history of the world, no Alpha has ever been so obsessed with a Beta.

Until now.

Clearing his throat he finally found the courage to lift his arm and with three gentle taps, he knocked on the door.

His wait felt like forever, hands balling at his sides as he bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet, but he was soon rewarded with her scent, strong and intoxicating as she opened the door. She was even more lovely than the first time he had seen her, her hair pulled back into a bun that highlighted the curve of her skull and accented the elegance of her neck. Long, slender, with skin that practically called out to him, her scent was intoxicating, radiating from where her scent gland would be if she were anything but a Beta.

Killian was sure his mind was playing tricks on him, especially when she shifted onto one smooth leg, leaned her weight against the door jamb and gave him a smile.

“Hey,” she said smoothly, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Mrs. Humbert,” he almost coughed, struggling to keep his cool as he fiddled with the palms of his hands with his fingernails.

“Please,” she scoffed. “Mrs. Humbert is my bitch of a mother-in-law.”

“Emma then.” He gave her a smile that was asking her permission, even though the smile she returned told him that he needn’t have asked.

With a nudge of her head she was inviting him in and inexplicably he followed more obedient than any Alpha should. She was wearing an oversized shirt and not much else, something he had failed to realise at first, his brain finally catching up to him as she sashayed back into the apartment.

That in itself surprised Killian. He was sure it would have been another one of Mr. Humbert’s attempts at appearing Alpha, seeing as the man was paying for it after all, but it wasn’t what he had expected. The single room was vast, a clear reflection of wealth, but in no way anything other than exactly what Emma had made it. A huge bed, covered by a duvet as thick as the mattress it rested upon drew his eye, and he didn’t know why, but the white, virginal sheets called to his inner lust as he imagined Emma spread out naked on them.

For him.

Urges he shouldn’t have had around a Beta, but urges he would let slide for someone so beautiful.

“So how does this work?” She called back to him as she pulled a bobby pin from her bun.

"Surely your husband filled you in on the details," Killian smirked, watching her hair tumble over her shoulders when she pulled out a few more of the metallic pins on her way to the bed.

"My husband?" Emma balked a laugh. "The man who is paying you such a grand sum to get a job done he fails at so horribly?" Emma shook her head, loosening the last few curls so that they joined the cascade currently adorning her shoulders and framing her pretty face. "Don't make me laugh."

"He told me that you wanted an Alpha," Killian said quickly, his nostrils flaring at the mere thought of the disgusting man. He followed her some more feeling the pull of a beautiful woman for the first time in his life.

"Yes," Emma nodded, turning to face him. "I described a very specific Alpha and would you believe he found everything, even down to the accent. Wouldn't you call that fate, Mr. Jones?"

Killian fixed her with a stare but she did not look away. There were not many people in an Alpha's life who didn't divert their gaze and he felt his lips tick up at the corners.

"Call me Killian," he almost growled. His fingers moved to the button on his jacket, popping the single button through its hole and a gleeful smile erupting on his face at the way her eyes moved to focus on his hands.

Emma took a step towards him and reached out, smoothing her long, lithe fingers over his shirt clad chest. He had worn the white one, mindful that his thick chest hair would be seen underneath, something he knew drove most women wild, regardless of classification, and when Emma scrunched her fingers and clawed lightly over the crisp white material, Killian felt the electric shock of arousal harden his nipples instantly.

“Okay then, Killian,” Emma purred, arching her body into his. “What were your instructions?”

A laugh rumbled from deep in his throat at her question, mainly from her brashness but also from the way she was unbuttoning his shirt so adeptly.

“To fuck you and make you feel good, I believe is what your husband said,” Killian said lowly, his words crushed in his throat from where he was craning his neck to watch her undress him. When all of his buttons were undone, he could smell her arousal, a fresh womanly scent hitting him the second she laid eyes on the contours of his body.

“Oh, then who are we to deny him?” Emma quirked an eyebrow at him, finally able to tear her eyes away from where her hands were roaming his torso. Thick, black chest hair tickled her fingertips with every stroke, softer than she had first thought but just as luxurious as she had imagined from the tiny bits poking out from his shirt collar. “Are all Alphas like this?” Emma wondered aloud.

“Like what, love?” Killian said softly, letting her explore his exposed chest some more. “Hairy? Muscular?”

“Powerful,” Emma sighed and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “The things you could do to me,” she breathed, pawing at his biceps.

Killian smirked, letting her hands roam some more. When she traced the edges of his ribs he had to refrain from laughing, her soft, light touches like a fine spider web across his skin, but she must have noticed the faintest twitch of a smile on his face because she snaked her hands up behind his neck and threaded her fingers into his hair.

“Is it true?” Emma asked with a pink tinge to her cheeks. She cast her eyes downwards between their bodies, leaning back and rubbing his groin with her body.

She meant his size, Killian knew that. Every Beta woman was the same, fascinated with the anatomy of an Alpha, the fabled larger attributes something many of them would swoon over. Killian had used it to sleep with women in the past, he wouldn’t deny that. When he was in his teens and had come into puberty, sometimes using the largest asset he had was all he could do to satisfy his needs.

“Aye,” he whispered in a choked voice.

“Will you kiss me?” Emma asked innocently, nudging the underside of his jaw. “Did my husband allow that in his stupid contract?”

Killian gave her a questioning look. “You know about that?”

Emma laughed and rolled her body away from his and took a few steps back towards the bed. “Everything is business to him, Killian. Even me. My whole marriage is a fucking contract.”

Killian wasn’t exactly sure what Emma meant, but he was sure if Humbert was involved it was nothing good. The man, a lowly Beta with the pretense to be Alpha, used and abused everyone in his life and Killian had no doubt that his wife was on the very top of that list. Every picture of her had a fake smile and for some reason he couldn’t explain, Killian wanted nothing more than to see the real smile he knew she possessed.

Emma was busy running her fingers through her hair so she didn’t notice Killian divest himself of his shirt, unbuckle his pants and kick off his shoes. She turned, just as his pants hit the floor under the weight of his belt and in one fluid movement, he had stepped from them and closed the gap between them. She had no time to object when Killian cupped her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers.

Neither of them moved for what felt like the longest time, and Killian had to hold her up when she went limp in his arms. Her lips were so soft to him, almost too smooth to be true, and he felt them quiver a little under his kiss. Then he felt her smile against his lips, and it was pure and chaste, the first sign he was given that told him that she was exactly what he thought she was - perfect.

“You’re naked,” Emma said in a daze, her eyes fluttering open when their lips parted.

“I am,” Killian beamed back at her. His forehead rested against hers and he smiled boyishly, brushing his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “And now,” Killian said smoothly as he unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it over her shoulders and letting the cotton fall to the floor behind her. She had little time to say anything before he dropped to his knees and tugging her underwear down her legs, brushing his nose over her inner knee, pecking her skin as he rose. He took a moment, his breath hitching in his throat as he looked her over, her smell ten times more intoxicating now that she was fully exposed to him. "So are you,” he whispered huskily.

“I’ve never done this before,” Emma told him shyly, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“Neither have I, love.” Killian tucked a crooked finger under her chin and offered her a reassuring smile as he tilted her head back up.

“You haven’t?” Emma frowned, teasing him with a smirk.

“You’re my first,” Killian assured her.

A small chuckle rumbled from Emma’s throat. She knew he had probably had sex before, so he didn’t mean it like that. Did he? Emma looked down, unable to stop herself gasping at the size of him when that came into her view. He was big and she bit her lip. “Will it hurt?”

Killian raised an eyebrow and sucked in a laugh. His hands found her hips and he pulled her tighter to him, relishing in the way he felt her skin bobble with goosebumps under his touch, his fingertips skimming around until he found the swell of her ass. Her skin was firm and plump at the same time and her body reacted to his touch instantly as her nipples hardened against his chest.

“Only if you want it to,” he smirked salaciously.

The way her cheeks turned red despite all of her previous bravado made Killian hard. Actually fucking hard. He had been hard for a Beta before, but he was normally in rut, so ready to fuck anything that moved, but somehow this was different. She was different.

“You know what? Screw your husband,” Killian announced. He pressed his hand to the small of her back and pulled her to him even harder, his length hot and pulsing against her skin. He felt her gasp, her fingernails digging into his shoulders and her eyes searching his in question. “What would make you happy?”

For a second Emma was silent and still in his arms, her face in shock of the question he had posed her. No one had ever asked her what she had wanted before. In her life, it was a foreign concept to be given a choice, especially in the Humbert household, and a sudden thrill shot through her bones at the mere thought of answering him. What did she want? Why had she asked for this? She knew he had meant from right now, but it didn’t stop her wishing her life was different. Her thoughts were interrupted when Killian brushed his knuckles over her cheek, rousing her from her reverie.

“I just want to be fucked by an Alpha,” Emma smiled up at him and licked her lips.

Killian could tell she had forced her smile but it wasn’t his place to question it. He licked his lips, imagining the taste of her on his tongue, and his cock bobbed against his stomach. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, dragging the back of his fingernails over her shoulders and down over her collarbone as he deliberated what he was going to do to her. “First we have to get you nice and wet,” he growled.

Killian grabbed her by the shoulders, hard enough to mean business but not enough to hurt, and spun her around. Emma let out a squeak of exhilaration and stiffened in his arms when he wrapped them around her, slipping a hand down over her stomach and cupping her mound. Killian pushed a single finger through her silky folds, absently wondering if she had shaved just for him, and Emma jumped up onto her toes at the welcome intrusion.

“Oh, my love,” Killian purred against the back of her ear, his scruff tickling at her neck as he spoke and setting all her hair standing on end when he smiled against her skin. His finger slipped along her folds but as wet as she was, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to accommodate him comfortably. “This just won’t do.”

Emma sighed, his fingers working through her folds and rubbing her clit. It was so hard, almost painfully stimulated, something Emma had never experienced before but already loved. It was torturously wonderful and her hips canted against his hand, her teeth leaving imprints in her lip as she let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Mmmm,” she hummed contently, riding his hand. Emma lifted her arm and clutched at his hair, holding his head to her neck when his lips went to work on the patch of skin above her quickening pulse.

“You like that, don’t you?” Killian mumbled against her neck, nipping at the skin there. Emma’s entire body told him what he already knew and her slow, shaky nod confirmed it. “You know the best way to get you wet, love?” Killian whispered into her ear, his tongue licking at her ear lobe and his cock rutting into the crease of her ass to ease his own growing tension.

“What?” Emma moned, her words hushed by her breathlessness.

“An orgasm,” Killian ground out darkly.

“Oh my-,” Emma gasped at his words, his tone demanding yet caring and like music to her soul. “Fuck.”

“You think you can do that for me, Emma?” Killian grinned and stretched his body upright once more, letting his length press even harder into her flesh and nudging her forward towards the bed. Instinctively Emma leaned forward, clawing at the bedclothes as she climbed on top of the comforter with Killian hot on her heels. He positioned himself behind her and his legs trapped hers together, his knees on the outside of hers and sinking into the plush, white duvet.

Killian smirked when she presented, wiggling her ass at him as if she were a good Omega, and drunk on the scent of her, he had to remind himself of her classification, confused for a second, blinking long and hard to right his thoughts of getting the job done. He was being paid, after all, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy himself while he made her feel good. He shuffled forward until there was no room between them anymore and positioned his length between her folds, thrusting his hips forward slowly and deliberately, her juices coating his cock and teasing her clit.

He hadn’t even got close to penetrating her yet and Emma was whimpering at his touch, mewling like a kitten every time he rubbed her with his length, rubbed her just the right way. It felt incredible, like her insides were trying to claw their way out and get to what she wanted the most, what she needed the most. Emma didn’t care how she got there, she just knew that she had to, and somehow with Killian, the big, strong Alpha currently dry fucking her clit with just his cock, she knew she would.

“Oh, fuck,” Emma gasped, slapping her hand down on the duvet and clutching the comforter in her hand, pushing herself onto all fours and bouncing back to meet his thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Killian slowed down his torture, stopping his thrusts and letting his rock hard member rest against her folds. Emma whined at his pause, a line of prickly heat appearing down her spine where her body had been worked up only to have the good feelings fizzle away. He hadn’t done anything yet, barely touched her with anything other than his cock, and yet she had been turned into a quivering mess. And she loved it.

Killian placed his hand over the base of her spine, stroking away her need. “Shhh now, love,” he soothed. “We have barely begun.”

“You feel so good,” Emma breathed, her head dropping down until her face was flush with the duvet.

Killian chuckled but the rumble from his chest wasn’t as loud as the slapping sound that reverberated around her apartment when he struck her bare cheek with a huge open palm. Emma cried out, her scream of pain turning to pleasure when Killian began kneading the fleshy globes in his roughened hands, hiding his own growl of pleasure in a content hum. One of his hands slipped between her cheeks, following the contour of her sex and cupping his hand around his length, an action that made Emma squirm against his hardness.

“That’s it, darling, take your pleasure,” Killian ground out.

Emma obeyed, rubbing herself against him completely unashamedly, loving the way she could feel every ridge and detail of him against her clit as he slipped through her folds. It was amazing, his girth stretching her lips apart just enough that her juices could coat both him and her as she ground against him, something she had never done before. Graham had been her only sexual partner, but sex had become nothing but an obligation for him early in their marriage until he had decided that her feelings just didn’t matter anymore and he had stopped showing her any affection.

Killian, on the other hand, was most definitely making sure that her feelings mattered.

“Come now, love,” he teased, slapping her clit with his cock mid way through one of her hip swivels. She screamed but her voice shuddered when a ripple of pleasure shot through her. “You can do better than that,” he smirked.

Emma let out a silent gasp at the assault on her clit, arching her back and immediately regretting it. Killian had moved back, only an inch but it was enough for her to feel the cold gust of air that filled the void where he had been. Her apartment wasn’t cold, especially since Killian had walked in, but she was so incredibly aching for something, anything, for him that she was burning up.

“Please, Killian,” Emma begged, reaching between her legs and grasping him firmly between her fingers. Her hand seemed tiny compared to him, but there was barely any time to process the information in her brain before she felt him grip her wrist and pull her hand away.

“Oh, love,” Killian purred, replacing her hand back down onto the comforter, interlocking his fingers with hers. “If you want me to fuck you, and I mean really fuck you,” he droned seductively, his words broken up by the sound of his kisses to her spine. “Then you have to use my title.”

Killian slipped his hand from hers and trailed his fingertips up her arm, dancing along the swell of the side of her breast and sliding over the skin of her stomach. Emma ignored the tickle on her ribs, gasping when Killian pinned his length between her folds once more and began thrusting his hips more forcefully. His pelvis slammed into her ass, over and over with the rhythm he had set, and before she had time to realise what was happening, her body was exploding in all directions from the bottom of her stomach to the tips of her toes, white flashes behind her eyelids blinding her for the first time in years as she clenched her core and came.

“Alpha!” Emma screamed and Killian smiled against the ridges of her spine. His title sounded like a symphony from her lips, orchestrated just for him, and with the same level of intensity Killian would have expected from an Omega. “Alpha, I’m coming!” Emma cried, but it sounded like a plea for him to stop his movements, something he was sure Emma was saying in conflict with her own desires. “Oh fuck!” Emma gasped, collapsing to the duvet covered mattress with a thump, her legs quivering, eyes unable to focus and her body instantly missing the feel of Killian’s skin on hers.

“Love,” Killian smirked coyly, climbing over her spent body mindful not to put too much pressure on her spine, nudging her knees apart and seating himself between her legs. He let the tip of himself slip into her and to his delight, Emma gasped again. “We haven’t even begun yet.”

“Order anything you’d like,” Graham told him with a sweetness to his tone that made Killian want to gag. “You did a good job.”

“I did?” Killian asked dumbly, looking at the menu in his hands but not seeing a single thing written on it.

“My wife is very pleased,” Graham smiled. “And when she is happy, she is less inclined to nag me, so yes, you did a good job.” He leaned back in his chair, the rattan stretching and creaking under his weight as he reclined with his wine glass resting on the arm of his chair.

“I just did my job,” Killian told him honestly, closing the menu in his hands and resting it to the glass table top. “I’ll pass on lunch, thanks,” he told Graham with a tight lipped smile.

“What did she tell you about me?” Graham pried, amused by the contempt on Killian’s face. “Did she tell you how I am basically her captor?” Graham took a sip of wine, eyeing the Alpha opposite over the rim of the glass. “That’s one of her favourites.”

“We didn’t do much talking,” Killian replied with a smirk that he hoped would enrage the Beta opposite. He sat back in his own chair, fingers interlaced and rested over his abdomen.

“Mr. Jones, my wife is a fantasist, a dreamer and she will lie to get what she wants.” Graham swallowed hard, his smile fading. “I am paying you to fuck her, not care.”

Killian looked away from Graham, licking his lips with a nervousness that he hoped would hide his rage. In all honesty, he had known Emma and Graham for the same amount of time, and even though he had been intimate with Emma, it didn’t stop his natural instincts from forming an opinion of Graham. The man was cruel, using him as a means to keep his wife’s mouth shut about an affair he was having. With her best friend no less. Or maybe Graham was using him as a means to an end, to prove Emma had been unfaithful if the shit really hit the fan. Either way, Killian hated him.

“There is no reason for you to be so hostile,” Graham told him, observing the way Killian’s jaw twitched when he spoke. “Trust me, she is not who you think she is.”

“And who is she?” Killian narrowed his eyes, unable to stop the question from leaving his mouth.

Graham took a breath in, a long deep inhale that caused his entire body to move. “That’s irrelevant.” He placed the wine glass back on the table, the base clinking when the two glass surfaces came into contact, and licked the last remnants of the red wine from his lips. “But I do want to know who you are. How did you manage to satisfy her?”

“You mean apart from my larger assets?” Killian replied spitefully.

Graham balked a laugh. “An Alpha joke. Good one. Mr. Jones, my entire family are Alphas so if I wanted to hear the big dick jokes, I would have organized a family barbecue.”

“So, what do you want to know, exactly?” Killian’s jaw twitched again and his fingers strained against each other as he fought the need to ball a fist and punch Graham right in the face.

“Everything,” Graham said finally. “Every. Little. Detail.”

Killian wasn’t about to divulge his methods, especially in the bedroom. There were some things an Alpha held sacred, and on the top of that list was the way they pleased a lover. It was what kept everyone different and what kept them superior to the Beta population. It was why the agency he worked for existed in the first place, and Killian wasn’t about to jeopardize his income for Graham’s sick pleasure.

“If you want to know, why don’t you pay me a little extra next time and I’ll let you watch.” Killian’s voice had become dark and gravelly, intimidating to most, but Graham simply laughed.

“Did you make her come more than once?” Graham asked seriously, unashamed by his direct questioning.

“What business is that of yours?” Killian snapped defensively. He wasn’t convinced this was Graham’s way of tricking him into admitting that rather than the one time they had agreed on, Killian hadn’t engaged in multiple acts with Emma.

Graham sat back again, crossing one leg over the other as he pulled open his jacket and reached inside. There was the rustle of paper followed by a dull thud when he slammed a brown envelope to the table in front of him. Killian’s eyes flicked to the parcel briefly, before meeting the Beta’s again as Graham jabbed the thick package with a stiff forefinger.

“This makes it my business, Mr. Jones,” he said coldly. “Twelve thousand dollars means I can demand whatever I want from you.”

“You don’t own me,” Killian said, rising to his feet and buttoning his blazer. “I’d thank you for lunch, but it wasn’t pleasant.” He pushed his chair back under the table and reached for the envelope. “I did what you asked, anything else will cost you more.”

“A negotiator,” Graham grinned. “I like that.” Killian turned to leave but was stopped short when Graham called out after him. “Would you like to see my wife again, Mr. Jones?”

Killian froze to the spot, eyes fluttering closed. Of course he did, he had never felt such a connection to another before, even if Emma was Beta, and he hated that it was so obvious to everyone. He just knew there was something more about her and he was determined to get to the bottom of it, even if he had to play by Humbert’s rules a little longer. Slowly, he turned and paced back to the table like a scalded dog.

“Good,” Graham spat. “Now sit down, and tell me everything.”

#the contract #ch 3 #cs au #cs fanfic #cs ff #ca fanfic #omegaverse #A/B/O #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!killian #emma swan #liam jones #will scarlet #graham humbert

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thegayfromrulid · 4 years

Note

Frkm 1 allll the way to 99. Also, the next SAO game eugeo lives as a sword and not die (thank GOD)

@2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars- I will not eat lollipops.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Cotton candy! I actually get super bad headaches from bubblegum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Probably lonely genius...

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Soda bottles!! I feel so fancy!! And old-timey.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

I guess tomboy even though I’m a boy??

7. earbuds or headphones?

Aren’t these the same thing? I think I prefer over-ear headphones, but I don’t really like either.

8. movies or tv shows?

Depends on the genre I guess. But as a main rule, live action- movies, animated- TV shows.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Potato salad.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Frankly, I wasn’t good, but I was really good at pissing all the jocks off-

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

I make myself these homemade egg mcmuffins. I enjoy them a lot. I am very picky about breakfast.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

I only have one and it’s very generic: The Gay From Rulid’s Playlist. Yes it’s on Spotify. Yes, it’s 99% anime openings and endings and maybe Bet On It from HSM2. Be ashamed of me. Go on.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Lanyard! Mine is a BNHA one I bought from an artist at Nekocon!

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Either Sweet Tarts or Nerds.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

I usually have one leg tucked up under me and the other stretched out.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

A black and white pair of Skechers. They look like shit. They almost never are replaced by another shoe. Not even in the gross muggy heat.

18. ideal weather?

When it’s just warm enough to wear a t-shirt and sit in the sunshine, but cool enough that I’m not hot, and a little breeze is going. I think of this weather quite often.

19. sleeping position?

On my belly kinda spread out like a shounen protagonist.

21. obsession from childhood?

J.R.R. Tolkien. Have always been obsessed with him and his works.

22. role model?

Redundant, but Tolkien again. Linguist and writer. Living my dream.

23. strange habits?

I unplug things like microwaves, lamps, and TVs when I am done using them. Very little remains plugged in at my place. The modem, the fridge, and the clock. That is it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst. It’s my sister’s middle name. And I especially like the purple ones.

25. first song you remember hearing?

Blue by Eiffel 65. I don’t know why that song sticks out so much in my memory but it’s nostalgic for me. Tiny AJ hyperfixated on this song before anything else ya’ll.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Curl up in the sun on a blanket and nap.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Hot cocoa blanket cuddles.

28. five songs to describe you?

Uhhhh...I’m not very musically literate. Let’s go with Born This Way (the first person I came out to sent me that song so it feels special!), I’m Free to Be Me by Jamie Grace, Praying by Kesha, Shake It Off by Taylor Swift ( @delicateeuphorias would you believe it xD), and right now thinking about someone dear to me who’s been gone See You Again is stuck in my brain.

30. places that you find sacred?

Arboretums or big botanical gardens where I can get lost in the plants for a moment and take in how pretty they all are. And old monuments/big things people of the past built. A lot of things were built by people with no rights/freedom and I think about them and how despite the fact that they had nothing, they made such a lasting impact on our world.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

*slips on my Owari no Seraph cosplay* I will kick ass in this sweet ass cape-

33. most used phrase in your phone?

My phone seems to think it’s “Kirito’s ass” and I want it to not think that.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

O-O-O-O’REILLYYYYYYYYYY’S...Autooo PARTS.

35. average time you fall asleep?

I’m an insomniac it could be 10 pm it could be 3 am who knows I sleep for an hour I’m up again...

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

Fucking CAN I HAS CHEEZBURGR cats.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

This all boils down to how much I’m packing. Going for a sleepover? Duffel. Going to con? My giant suitcase with room for all the bells and whistles of cosplay.

38. lemonade or tea?

Tea!

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Oh cruel I looooove lemon. The pie!

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

In high school here- so, aside from me being the resident weirdo (I DID come to school dressed as the TARDIS), my senior class decided to squirt hundreds of bottles of chocolate syrup on the sidewalks. We were an open campus so it’s all in front of our classroom doors- we had no hallways. And then they. They fucking EGGED ALL THE DOORS. The whole campus smelled like...ick.

41. last person you texted?

My father and mother in a group text to cry about customers treating me poorly.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

I prefer the jacket pockets because I still haven’t found a way to get men’s pants under the radar of my ever-watchful parents and women’s jeans pockets are SHITTY. Women gotta boycott this shit it is UNACCEPTABLE-

44. favorite scent for soap?

Peppermint...peppermint ^-^ I like to smell like...mint.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy!

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Recently I was reminded I live alone and my new favorite sleeping outfit...is...just some boxer shorts. Suck it dysphoria. Manly nightwear.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Pepper jack, Swiss, or ricotta.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Strawberry :3

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

I’m gonna sound so gay but when @disasterbikirito started laughing about a certain GIF and his laugh was so infectious I couldn’t help but laugh too.

51. current stresses?

Are you shitting me it’s everything. Every. Single. Thing. I cannot breathe. I am having meltdowns. Someone fucking save me I cannot deal with COVID well.

52. favorite font?

Garamond for writing in my free time, Doulous SIL for all the linguistics IPA symbols my greedy heart desires.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Smooth but my fingertips have been gnawed on. I am stressed, okay?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Gosh, lots of things. But the most important takeaway is that a good boss will genuinely care about you. I miss that man. He was so wonderful and so caring and taught me so much about theater. Technical things and artistic things and historical things. Sometimes I wish I could have made a career out of working under him.

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast (AH...AH...I SEE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES BECAUSE I’M TRANS. I KNOW. I *KNOW*.)

56. favorite tradition?

It’s a family tradition kinda unique to my household. Each year, we draw a name from a hat, and that name comes with a lot of words that describe us and what we liked over that year. We then each take a $20 bill and we go to a little hobby shop with cheap things in it and use that $20 bill to fill a Christmas stocking. We then hang them back up and empty the stocking full of candies and random silly things and have a good laugh and guess who filled whose stocking.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

The first one is coming to terms with knowing my dad has a severe illness. It really shook my family up, and it’s terrifying us right now with everything going on, but after a while, I learned that he was smiling, so I could smile, too.

The second one is my mother coming back from her tour in the Middle East on top of the murder of my godmother. Two very stressful things happened at once. My mother got very violent from her PTSD and her best friend died in a horrible way. It was an adjustment for everyone, and it kind of ripped my family to pieces. I can say, though, that my parents are still married and are getting better, and my sister and I are coming back to the family to be more open and healthy.

The third, and maybe some of my followers are aware, was getting rid of my ex-fiance. He was a man who sexually assaulted me repeatedly and I won’t go into details beyond that. It took me 5 years to get rid of him and accept what happened, but I am a much happier person now and while I work through the trauma that caused me, I have the most wonderful partner by my side and if you had told me back then I’d find someone as kind and patient and loving as him, I would have laughed and thought you were insane.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Probably what I put on all my fanfic updates: “I know. I’m an asshole.”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Some kind of shoujo romance but it’s bi also I want a sword.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

There was nothing more smartass than Alice Synthesis 30 in SAO 18 asking a reporter to open up his head and prove he was human I’m sorry like OOF-

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Get in losers, we’re playing Steppin’ Out by FLOW, Elle me dit by Mika, Blue by Eiffel 65, ADAMAS by LiSA, and Touch Off by UVERworld.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I was on Webkinz more than I want to admit.

65. any permanent scars?

Yup. I have one on my toe where I split the skin in half. I tripped. I have three surgical scars from when I had my appendix removed. And...the mystery scar. I was supposedly born with a scar it’s at the part where my foot meets my leg on my left side and you can see how it’s stretched over the years if you run your finger over it. The joke is that the doctor taking out my mom’s appendix scratched me in the womb.

67. good luck charms?

Not really a charm but I do have a little Kirito keychain I carry everywhere I go that I fiddle with when I’m nervous.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Artificial bubblegum. Disgustiiiing.

70. left or right handed?

I am right-handed.

71. least favorite pattern?

Zig-zags.

72. worst subject?

History...I am ashamed. It’s interesting, I just suck at it.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Gingerbread and marshmallow. I am a bit picky about mixing foods and flavors, so this was the weirdest I could think up.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

Can you hear that? It’s my hysterical laughter. 12 on a scale of 10. I get up there pretty frequently. Thank you, chronic crippling pain.

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I...I don’t remember...I don’t even remember...I think I had to be like what...kindergarten?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

THIS IS CRUEL I LOVE ALL POTATOS I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH-Au gratin.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Aloe!

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Coffee from a gas station. Mark my words...I will never get grocery store sushi. Ever. Again. My stomach has not forgotten. What a mistake. That was.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

So, my driver’s license hasn’t had an updated photo since I was 15 and just had a learner’s so I look like I want to murder a man but my school ID I had just run about a mile in the cold because the bus wasn’t running that day and my face is red and I look like I’m crying...probably the school ID...

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones~~

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

I am from the South and we call ‘em lightnin’ bugs.

82. pc or console?

Errrrr console. I’m not a gamer by any means but there’s way fewer things to press on a console controller.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Neither...what...no...neither...they will put me to sleep...I will be out in seconds...the most dangerous things...people talking...and then I’m out...

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie, she’s a LOT easier to dress. Those rubber clothes. SMH.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies but they gotta be the soft ones.

87. your greatest fear?

Being swallowed in the ocean. By a fish or a whale. I don’t play. Church kid don’t play with big things in the ocean with big mouths.

88. your greatest wish?

To make enough of a difference in someone’s life that they learn to love themself.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

Such a selfish thought...gosh...the mere thought of prioritizing someone troubles me.

90. luckiest mistake?

Telling a cute guy sending me dog pictures was an excellent flirting technique as he sent me pictures of his puppy. I immediately thought “oh god I’ve fucked up bad” and at present we’re kinda head over heels for one another so maybe just be stupidly blunt once and a while you might find true love.

91. boxes or bags?

Boxes. My cat didn’t force me to say that. Not at all. Sock, buddy, off the keyboard-

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Sunlight. I like the sun. The sun is my friend. It is warm and would never betray me.

93. nicknames?

Sister calls me “spoony” when she’s being ridiculous. No, I don’t know what that means. Mama calls me “cakes.” I had friends who called me “Deku” because I’m a crybaby. Had a few people DM me and straight up call me “Eugeo” or “Eug.” AJ is technically a nickname.

94. favorite season?

Springtime!!!!! It’s...HERE!

95. favorite app on your phone?

I use like three apps...so Discord.

96. desktop background?

It’s. It’s Kirito and Eugeo. What did you expect.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

Mama’s, dad’s, mine, and my parents’ house number. And does the emergency 911 count (pahahaha).

(I answered the others in delicateeuphoria’s ask!)

#ask #ask me anything #weird asks that say a lot #ask game #weeaboo-god

4 notes · View notes

maikatc · 4 years

Text

black sun tale | jackson

i want more jackson love so i shall share jackson love. also this is from the 3rd draft of bst too and most of it is still in the current canon, just a good amount of changes here or there (like the ending-)

Since the sun wanted to kill his skin like usual, Jackson stayed inside with his companion

Despite her constant rambling, he stared at his computer screen in focus. He checked left and right from every forum he travelled to, reading all of the comments and theories that left in each and every one.

“Do you think we should get Finn over? Since he’s basically the same as you and never bothers to listen. Well, actually he’s pretty good at multitasking so it’s mainly just you.”

There was a sour tone in her voice, which her minor complaints caused him to look at her directly rather than his screen. “Mirana, I can still hear everything you say while I read.”

She crossed her arms, “That’s impossible,” she scoffed.

“Have you ever seen some foreign movie with subtitles?”

Mirana looked at him deadpanned. “I was forced to, yes.”

Jackson sighed, he figured that socializing during the summer was probably a good thing. “Just call Finn over.”

“Okay! I’ll go on speaker.” Mirana grabbed her phone as Jackson comforted himself back to his laptop, muttering.

“Why am I even friends with you guys again?”

“Because childhood friends are bitches like that.”

“Right.” He cringed at his own lack of silence.

“I’m guessing Jackson’s being a prick again?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s the reason you always invite Finn over here,” Jackson entered the conversation as Finn entered through the doorway.

Mirana crossed her arms. “I always tell you guys to go out but no,” she spited.

Jackson rolled his eyes, “You haven’t seen the news lately, haven’t you?”

Finn replied, “You mean the area deaths?”

“Mirana, do you really think anyone would go out with that situation at hand.” Jackson eyed her as she played with her red hair.

Mirana looked down, muttering words Jackson couldn’t hear. She looked back at both of them, “Well, we can always just go somewhere indoors. You guys just stay in your houses all the time.”

“I’m researching about the area deaths.”

“I’m trying to hack online friends for a prank.”

Jackson and Finn replied to her simultaneously.

The girl sighed and pointed at Jackson, “Okay that’s too depressing to spend days on,” she shifted her hand towards Finn, “And that just means you need more of a life.”

Finn chuckled, “They hacked me a few days ago, gotta get em back.”

Mirana shriveled downwards, “Y’all need more vitamin D, goddamnit.”

Jackson opened his computer again, “That’s why they made pills for it.”

“Don’t forget the flavored gummies.” Finn added, going on his phone in the process.

Mirana stared at them deadpanned. “… You guys suck.”

As Jackson’s focus drifted back to forums, a hand suddenly closed his laptop, causing him to jump. He saw Mirana take Finn’s phone as well.

“What the hell?” Finn his arms up as his phone was gone.

She swiftly grabbed both of their arms, her strength being able to pull them up. “I’m dragging you guys out. We’re going to the diabetes shop.”

Jackson’s eyes lowered at her. “Fucking hell.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you guys candy in return.”

Jackson pulled himself out of the girl’s grasp. “Let me at least get ready to go.” He looked at himself, still just in a white t-shirt and black boxers.

He walked to his drawer of clothing, taking off his shirt in the process.

“Don’t you ever think that’s too forward?” Finn commented.

Jackson opened a drawer full of shirts, “It’s not like I’m trying to get you guys to sleep with me. Well, anybody anyways.”

“Yes, we’ve already gotten over this: You don’t like people.” Mirana stood by his bedroom doorway as she spoke. All the while, Finn was on his phone he had gotten back from the girl. “Besides, out of anybody, Finn would be the one distracted by you right now.”

Finn turned away from his phone immediately. “Middle school means nothing.”

“And nothing came out of it, so now we’re just chill.” Jackson grabbed a grey t-shirt he’d gotten from concert Mirana brought him to around a year back. He put it on without much thought and then wore a red unbuttoned flannel over it.

As Mirana and Finn talked to each other, returning regrettable middle school memories, Jackson added a simple pair of jeans and a belt to complete his outfit. He tucked his shirt in as he walked towards the mirror. He fixed up his tuff of brown hair lying on top of his coffee-colored skin. Adding his grey newsie cap on his head, he turned towards the others.

“You definitely go on the internet too much.” Finn eyed his outfit.

Mirana laughed, “I still don’t get why you where that hat, I gave it to you as a joke.”

Jackson shrugged. “Well, I like it.”

“It makes you look like an old man.” Mira smiled.

“Let’s just go,” Jackson grinned at their common talk.

***

“I still hate the sun.” Jackson complained.

“Take off your flannel then,” Mira told him, rolling her eyes.

Finn said, “Hey Jackson, there’s this one video I’ve been meaning to show you too.”

“Finn, another video and I’ll take your phone again.” Mira remarked, causing Finn to place his mobile in his pocket yet again.

“Oh yeah, you heard of the Katzmann death, right?” Jackson asked Finn.

Finn nodded. “We’re screwed.”

“I still don’t get why you used the excuse of the area deaths when you still die indoors now.” Mira grumbled to herself.

“It’s more common outside though, the Katsmann kid was the first time a death was inside. And that happened like two days ago.” Finn spoke in defense.

“I still want to know why this is happening. It’s just getting weirder…” Jackson furrowed his eyebrows, his sight on the ground as he walked in the streets. His curiosity had peaked as always.

“Leave that to the government.” Mira’s hand made a brushing motion.

“It’s easier like that but people should try to figure it out so they’d know what to make best in the situation.”

“Yeah, yeah, but your ideas are too out of proportions.” Mira retorted.

“Don’t go into one of your journalism talks again please, Jackson.” Finn commented.

Jackson sighed and let go of the conversation.

The traffic was busy as always, creating the city noise he’s listened to for almost five years. Turning his newsie cap backwards, he observed the tall buildings engraved in his mind as his friends talked to each other about whatever gossip Mira had. Their snickers mixed with nostalgic sounds eased him slightly.

However, there were ideas peeking through his mind again, area deaths being the topic of course. The number of clues for the cause is nothing to discuss. There was no reason for many of them to just die so suddenly. Everybody would just fall from system failure. No way it couldn’t been a shooting, no injuries. How could a virus appear out of nowhere and kill others instantly without any other contact? How would the virus just disappear suddenly after mere seconds of so many dying? How could no one else around the area be affected if it were to spread so quickly? Why-

He bumped into somebody, someone shorter than him for sure. He looked down from his height to see a boy around his early teens down on the ground from lack of attention. Mira and Finn stopped with him.

The boy had white hair, likely dyed, covering his eye and strangely pale skin. He bore a simple, yet untucked, buttoned shirt and tight black jeans. His visible eye stared at him dully, though it shone a pretty blue.

He got himself up after muttering something under his mouth.

“Sorry, ‘you alright?” Jackson asked looking down at him. He was definitely short, maybe less than five feet compared to himself being over six.

The boy observed him again, and with a small curve on his lip, he said, “Yeah, but you better pay more attention.” He walked off without any other comment.

“You should probably pay more attention too,” Finn fussed.

They walked for about another minute until Mira noted, “Well this was a pretty short walk. Not much to complain about, right?”

“I’m still sweating like shit, Mira,” Jackson bickered, “Shut up.”

Mira ran to the store door, “There’s a thing called cold drinks, you know.”

Finn walked inside. “I’m just gonna have some sour candies and soda while I plan on what the hell to do with life after high school.”

Jackson sighed as he walked in himself. “Same though, I don’t want to think about the college applications in two years.”

“And I don’t want to think about that stuff since we just went through sophomore year and it’s summer, so be quiet.” Mirana entered, slamming the door.

The store was the same as always, an array of candies near the cashier and soda pop stacked upon each other in rows. Throughout the store held packs of what kids get nowadays: junk food. Though laid around were mediocre everyday items such as earbuds or chargers, which were simply begging to be bought with their cheap prices. Jackson and company mainly went however for the small table they held for customers who just wanted to relax. Though, behind the front counter was a man around their age, who they all knew well.

His name was Kasen, his parents were managers so it was the easiest job to get, from what Jackson heard. Whenever he’d visit the shop for a quick grab of snacks for a sleepover, he would chat with him whilst paying with the little cash he’d have at the moment.

His aloof attitude towards the job made the shop surprisingly more welcoming with his honest attitude. Which is its own downside since he makes the family more money from the teenage crowd, thus his parents force him to stay.

“Yo, Kasen,” Finn walked towards him immediately. “How’s today’s shift going for you?”

Kasen looked up from the article he was reading on his phone. “Boring as usual.” He wore his signature, busted nametag as well as a short-sleeved hoodie for the heat. All the while he placed iced coffee from the coffee shop down the street and a fan to keep him cool.

Jackson shrugged, “Well, at least you have company now.”

Mirana picked out three individual candies that each of them liked themselves and placed them all in front of Kasen as she grabbed her wallet. “I told you guys I’ll by candy for you,” she placed the exactly amount of money on the counter to pay, “So here you go.”

“I still have to scan it.”

Mira paused. “Oh yeah.” She handed the treats back to him.

Kasen quickly put his long-cut blonde bangs behind his ear and scanned all of them to hand them back to her. “Okay, now you guys can have it.” He took a sip of his iced-coffee again as he took the cash to put in the system.

“Wait!” Finn suddenly said. “What about the drinks?”

After a quick moment of silence, Kasen sighed as the computer printed out the receipt. “Just get your soda already and pay me again.”

“I still don’t get why you guys just have a table here…” Mirana sat back as she ate gummies.

Kasen leaned forward from his counter. “Well, it was my idea when I was younger, my parents bought it as a present so I wouldn’t be running around the store while they worked. Plus, I thought that people who wanted to stay shouldn’t be standing. Didn’t really noticed how weird it was until I got older.” He snickered pulling up his glasses.

Finn chugged some of his cold, orange pop and took a sighed as he swallowed. “Aren’t we the only people who actually sit here?”

Kasen shrugged, “Well, there are some who do, but they don’t bother talking to me. Mainly since they’re basic bitches, but they get annoying easily so I don’t really try at the same time.”

“Makes sense,” Jackson nodded, “You’re a good man, Kasen, a good man.”

“Yes,” Kasen chuckled, “A good man without an idea of what degree I even wanna get.” He took another sip of coffee.

“Isn’t that half the students though,” Mira questioned.

“I guess so. I mean, at least I’m pretty sure my parents will let me quit after graduating.”

Jackson indulged in his popping candy as the others talked. He already had a basic plan after graduating high school, though without older siblings like Finn had, he didn’t have anything to make reference of for himself.

“Damnit…” He muttered, taking a sip of his lemonade as the others laugh about some random new topic.

***

Jackson had returned to his cozy apartment, lying beside his dining table and lightly chuckling from the thoughtless jokes of the media.

Mira and Finn had left hours ago, all the while his mother had arrived back from the hospital, cooking up dinner. Her bleached hair puffed up into a mess like always as her small eyes carried bags underneath.

Jackson turned towards her directing, eying that she wobbled as she walked.

Jackson stood up, closing his laptop as he slipped next to her and place his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve worked two nights shifts and a day shift to top it off, I’ll make dinner.”

The woman blinked at him slowly, only to place the cutting knife she held for vegetables and sighed “Fine.”

She stumbled towards the table and slumped down on a chair.

Jackson nodded to himself as she already fell to a slumber, and went on to cut the rest of the veggies to use for the last step.

The rice noodles were already being boiled and the chicken breast was already cut. All Jackson had to wait for was the rice noodles to be ready.

His mother blinked her eyes open as Jackson stirred all of the ingredients together in a wok.

Jackson stirred repetitively for some time until the clattering of plates struck his ears. He turned to see his mother grabbing plates without precaution. Though, he shrugged and laid his eyes down upon the food. “The pancit is ready.” He said as he began serving food to the plate that had been passed to him.

“You’re starting to make better food than me, it took seventeen years.” Her mouth slurred as she spoke as Jackson passed the plate he held to her.

“I’ve been good, besides you passed out immediately once I offered help,” Jackson scoffed.

After gathering their food and utensils, the two sat on the dining table together.

“So how did your day go?”

The light shined above them dimly, and his mother’s voice was weaker than normal.

“Mira dragged me and Finn to the shop. She paid for treats though so I didn’t have to use any money.”

The woman sighed. “Well that’s good. But I’ll pass you some more money by the end of the month.”

Jackson dragged his food around silently. “You know that you don’t have to save for college money now…”

His mother looked down on her plate as she chewed up her meal slowly. As she swallowed, she replied, “I’m just trying to being precautious. My family budget got screwed over for my education around your age.”

“But you still managed.”

“But, I had to work my ass off while you were just a baby.”

Jackson scoffed, “I know, I know. But it isn’t like I’ll be in that situation.”

She sighed, placing her spoon down gently, “Look, I’ve been working enough extra shifts for the hospital to offer me a vacation week. Will that make you a bit happier?”

Jackson took a spoonful of his meal. “Yeah, just rest for the week though. I’ll take care of the house.”

“Thank you, Jackson.”

They continued to eat the meal until Jackson picked up both of the empty plates to wash. His mother meanwhile, sat at the table to have some herbal tea and bread. An array of clean dishes on the other side were waiting to be put back in place, however Jackson’s desire to was barely existent as he washed more things.

“So, Mom, have there ever been survivors of area deaths that were in the hospital?”

“No, even the news says that no one in those places survived, you’d know that better than me.” Jackson could easily tell with her tone that she was confused.

He replied, “Yeah, but the news gets information wrong sometimes, so it’s always good to gain your own evidence.”

His mother took a sip of her tea. “That’s true. I’m guessing you’re making your own little conspiracy theories again?”

Jackson rolled his eyes with a grin. “No, this situation’s too vague to have a real solution here.” He said while placing a dish to the clean side of the sink.

“Are you going to keep trying to look for clues?”

Jackson groaned, “With how weird this all is, and the situation just getting stranger, I’m not even sure if anyone is gonna get a solid theory to this.”

His mother hummed thoughtlessly, “Well, even the absurd theories end up being true sometimes, so what do you got?” She took a bite of her bread in the process.

Jackson finished up the last dish and turned off the sink. He turned towards his mother with his hands holding the counter behind him. “The closest shot that I have is some artificial virus.”

She eyed him in a tired surprise while saying with bread in her mouth, “And what makes you say that?”

Jackson took a seat across from the woman, stretching his arms while looking at her straight. “Well, if you look at how the area-deaths go. They only happen in a specific location at the moment, and it kills everyone almost immediately. So, what if someone or some people had developed a virus they could activate and spread however they’d like. But at the same time if this were in a, most likely, terrorist perspective, it wouldn’t make sense to just attack specific people out of convenience when they can make mass destruction so easily with that type of destruction. Even more nonsensical that they would guess use this technology on singular people such as the children who’re kept and-… yeah.” He stopped himself from rambling too much.

“Hm, makes sense that this would be tricky. But maybe you should try and see other perspectives on who may have done this if there was someone in action.” His mother stirred her tea as she spoke, spreading the scent of plants and herbs across the room to Jackson’s dismay.

Jackson shrugged. “It’s hard to think of any. This tech would be impossible to create without tons of money or support.”

“With the world nowadays, anything can happen really.” She took another sip of her tea, tipping her head downwards only to get herself back up quickly.

Similar to past nights, Jackson got up to take away her tea and bread. “You’re going to work again tomorrow, right? Go to sleep.”

She blinked until she replied, “Okay, okay. But you’re drinking the rest of that tea for me.”

“That’s fine with me, mom.”

She got up with him as he walked with her to her bedroom.

“Oh yeah,” his mother said whilst slumping herself through the short hallway, “did you have fun with Mira and Finn?”

“Yeah, we talked with Kasen at the shop too, but I was still busy thinking so I spaced out for most of it.”

She softly chuckled, “Of course you did.”

They arrived at her room, all a mess with dirty clothing and mail, and she wobbled her way to fall on her bed. “Night, Jackson,” she said dozily.

“Night, Mom,” he replied as he closed the door with a soft creak.

Jackson walked back to the living room to go back to his laptop. All the while he was in the regular thoughts of a 34-year-old woman working herself exhaustingly for her almost already-independent child.

***

Mirana sat quietly on the floor with her sketchbook while Jackson took notes on his bed for summer homework. As Jackson bored himself with science facts, he noticed Mirana had observed him with her pencil at hand.

He listened to her sketching on her paper as comfort, the pencil tip scratching ever so slightly against the sheets.

“So, what are you drawing now?”

Mirana placed the pencil eraser on her lip, focusing on his position yet again. “Trying to make a sketch of you, but this angle is tricky of course.”

“Why don’t you just move somewhere else to get an easier angle?” Jackson raised his brow, though her answer would most likely be predictable.

She shrugged, “The harder the angle, the more impressive it is to pull it off.”

Jackson typed up a quick fact that he’d forget later. “I still don’t get how people can draw.”

“Well, at least you can take pictures,” Mirana scoffed.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “You just don’t know how to take pictures of people.”

“Adding a filter like you do doesn’t work on everything.” Mirana whined quietly as Jackson turned to his notes again.

They continued doing their own work. And whilst Mirana seemed to have fun in her focus, Jackson began to grow a headache as per usual.

“Hey Mira, are you almost done with your sketch?” He asked.

“Oh, I actually just did. You still have those colored pencils I gave you, right?”

Jackson replied, “You told me to keep them in case you drew here so I left them to die in my closet. Go look there. I’m gonna get some pills.”

Mirana put her sketchbook and pencil, beginning to stand in the process. “’Kay, thanks”

Jackson pushed his laptop aside and got up from his bed. Muttering to himself about not sleep depriving himself before working.

He quickly walked to the living room cabinets, finding headache pills quickly from the last time he left it there. He grabbed the cup of water he’d abandoned from morning breakfast and took the pills with it, having a good chug of the rest of the cup for safe measures. Though as he drank the rest of the cup, thoughts raised through his head.

The quicker I get this work done, the more time I have to relax and… maybe get some money from a job. I’ll look after. It’s starting to get dark though-.

His surroundings turned grey and silent as he felt a brush on his back in a flash. He choked on his water from flinching, though everything went back to normal the second he coughed it out.

Jackson gasped for air as he stumbled his hands towards the counter edges. He slowly breathed out, “What the hell…” as he stilled to calm down.

“Jackson, you okay?” He turned around to see Mirana by the end of the hallway.

Jackson let go of the counter and answered her. “I just choked on my water a little bit,” he sighed.

The woman crossed her arms and lowered her eyes. “I could hear from the other room. Your walls were thin enough.”

“Of course,” Jackson groaned as he straightened up his t-shirt.

“Have some more water. The pills won’t support your choking bit right there.”

“Sure, sure,” Jackson grumbled as his poured more water from the pitcher.

“So,” Mirana said as Jackson started drinking again, “what made you so startled anyways to that point.”

“It was an accident.”

“Yes, but choking that much by an accident isn’t really that believable.”

Jackson took another gulp of his water. “It was just random chills. I’ll look it up later or something.”

Mirana stayed quiet until she sighed, “Okay then, I’m just gonna go back to coloring.”

She walked back to where she disappeared in Jackson’s eyes. As he turned to look back at the window set on the living room wall.

The streets were just as lively as ever. Kasen was probably taking a nap during his breakshift of the day, while Finn procrastinated to even read his english books in the first place most likely. Despite his rural beginnings, everything that brought out curiosity and naivety to him had faded into the mundane.

His mind continued racing until he finished his drink, swifting the glass towards the sink to clean later and going back to his room.

Though, Jackson opened the door to find his room floor covered in multiple dull colored pencils. He looked ahead to already see a blur of colors in Mirana’s sketchbook.

Carefully, Jackson dawdled to the other side of the room. “You don’t have to throw all the shitty pencils across the room,” he retorted.

Mirana scoffed, “They aren’t shitty. They just aren’t needed for the sketch.”

Jackson rolled his eyes from her ignorance as he sat next to her, getting a better sight of the sketch.

She managed to catch his appearance well, like usual. His light tan-skin was replicated using a simple mix of pencil shades. His eyes squinted smaller than they already were as he focused, which was a usual habit in his defense. Though Jackson noticed his hair was a brown mess, and he subconsciously fixed his hair with his hand as his eyes analyzed the piece some more.

“Goddamnit Mira, it’s good.”

“Thanks, I mainly just colored you but I think I’m gonna move on to an outfit sketch.” She spoke as she turned to the next page, catching some stuck pages out from seemed to be dirt.

“What kind of outfit are you thinking of?”

“Just a thin dress, for when I go out swimming, you know?” She started sketching out lines of the model’s head.

Jackson’s mind swirled about what type of design it’d be, though another question came to mind.

“With how many outfits you made, did you ever consider being a designer or something?”

Mirana scrunched up, tapping her pencil slowly as she slightly hummed. “I’m not really sure yet. I like doing art in general, outfits are kinda just another hobby but I don’t know shit about actual fabric stuff.”

Jackson shrugged as she kept sketching slowly. “Yeah, but you can always learn, that’s what half the internet was made for.”

Mirana chuckled. “Yeah, but I prefer using the other half,” she clicked.

Jackson scrunched his eyes. “If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, get out.”

She snickered as he groaned back onto his own workspace.

“So, Jackson, what are you gonna do when I’m gone for the next two weeks?”

Jackson opened an online textbook, “Oh- Wait, shouldn’t you be packing right now?”

Mirana said, “I already did all of that last night. It was pretty easy.”

“You just stuffed everything you had other than your sketchbook and materials into your luggage without a thought, didn’t you?”

She grinned. “Pretty much.”

Jackson shook his head, “Your car trip’s gonna be around 2 days long…”

“Yeah, but out of anything, all I really need for survival is my sketchbook. Same goes for my music but I always have that so no need to worry.”

Jackson sighed, “Don’t come complaining to me when you don’t know where your swim-suit is.”

Mirana looked up from her sketchbook, “What? I got too focused on something.”

Of course, he thought. His screen became his sight again as he said, “Just don’t die in Massachusetts.”

“You’d probably like it more than me really, colder than here in New York City.”

Jackson smiled. “Trust me, I don’t like anything considering the weather.”

***

“It’s been two weeks. More kids died in their apartments. News is saying that people are starting to move. And at the same time, we still have no idea why this is happening in the first place.”

Finn commented, “There haven’t been anything else like this outside of NYC, so it could be worse.”

Jackson snapped back, “But what if it does get worse?” He slammed down his laptop from the kitchen table, walking off to refill his glass of water from minutes prior.

“Jackson?”

He chugged his cup full down with a vitamin D pill quickly, coughing and wiping his mouth with a sigh as he finished. “What,” he gasped.

“You’re getting stressed again. Calm down.”

Jackson huffed. “I don’t understand what’s going on anymore. The press would’ve released something weeks ago explaining, but all I get is shitty blogposts.”

He sat at his table again, arms over his head and kicking his long legs back and forth from the stool. “If we keep this up, we’re all gonna die soon enough.”

Finn stood silently, then sat on another stool on the side. He clapped his hands together while taking a breath. “Okay. Jackson, we aren’t gonna die. Out of anything if we see people die, just turn for it until you’re out of the area completely. Maybe try not to breathe, I don’t know.”

“But we still don’t know the main cause, we’re fucked.”

“Jackson, you have to calm down,” he patted Jackson’s back.

Jackson said blankly, “What’ll happen if my mom gets involved?”

“Jackson!” Hands stuck his arms tightly, turning him to face Finn again, who was stricken with concern in his eyes. “You need to stop worrying about this stuff. You should know out of everybody that it’s not good for you.”

Jackson blinked, then replied slowly, “If we stop doing anything, we’ll get nowhere. If we don’t know anything, we’ll get nowhere… We need this.”

Finn sighed, letting him go steadily. He glared at him softly, “Just don’t stress yourself out like that anymore.”

“Don’t worry. I think I’m fine now, I’ll just take some relax pills.” Jackson stood and turned to the cabinet of pills, grabbing a bottle of valerian root pills. He refilled his cup again to take it in.

He finished the cup silently as Finn attempting to make conversation after their talk.

“Huh, that’s a first.”

Finn cocked a brow. “What?”

Jackson said, “I’ve been having these weird chills lately at random, and over half the time it was when I was drinking water. And for the first time in two weeks,” he raised his cup, “I was able to drink an entire cup without getting any.”

“Wait,” Finn asked, “Is that why you’ve been drinking tons of water and choking?”

Jackson nodded, “Yeah, didn’t really like it but I wanted to see how long it’d last. Besides I stay inside so much that I might as well get a lot of hygiene to compensate.”

“Understandable.” Finn went back to his phone. “So, you said that you were hanging out with Mira tomorrow when she comes back, right?”

“Yeah, down at the Amersford park at 2:30.”

“Do you think I can join a bit after? I’ll be like an hour late since I’m gonna hang out with some of the basketball guys.”

Jackson shrugged, “Yeah sure, she’s pretty much just hanging out with us as a way of getting out of unpacking for a bit so the more the merrier.”

Finn chuckled, “Her room’s gonna be a disaster either way so it’s fine.”

“I’ll text her later. But for right now, you’ll go do my math work for me.”

***

Jackson’s phone buzzed while he looked at pop culture news. He picked it up to see Mirana’s name plastered on the phone.

He clicked the green button and answered, “Are you almost here? It’s almost two.”

“We got here earlier than expected, so do you think you can come over now?”

Jackson looked at himself, dressed in a random t-shirt and a pair of boxers yet again. “I can, but I need some time to get ready first.”

“You’re in your boxers again, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Okay I’m just gonna wait with YouTube. See ya soon.”

She hung up right afterwards.

Jackson groaned from his own lack of sleep and got up regretfully. After taking deep breath, he dashed to his drawer and quickly dressed himself. He immediately brushed his teeth in the bathroom, washed up his face, and fixed up his hair. He snatched his newsie-cap and phone to be completely ready to go in the record-time speed of five minutes.

He quietly said goodbye to his resting mother before going off.

Jackson called her again as he started walking to the park.

“Are you out of your house yet?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“Good, you’re being productive.”

“Unlike you.”

“Shut up”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Oh, bye then.”

Jackson hung up the phone as he started to take his ten-minute walk of the week.

***

Just a block away from Amersfort park, and Jackson only struck silence in his ears. He cocked his head to say the least once he noticed.

He walked to the entrance steadily. He found a scent wasn’t of the city’s smoke, which was utmost peculiar causing him to walk quicker.

A thick atmosphere comforted around him as he got closer, and his hand suddenly began to burn but he ignored it during the flashes of monochrome that appeared in his sights, with chills going down his spine continuously.

He got to the entrance, and slowly turned to see what exactly was going on.

His eyes widened to the point where it hurt. His blood ran colder than it had ever been before as his heartbeat sped up faster and faster. His eyes slowly began having forming thick, wet tears that burned against his cold figure.

He couldn’t stop staring at all of messy, bloody bodies that laid before him. The eyes of pain they’d left only made sense with the giant puncture on their bodies.

And what laid across the entrance of the park was dyed-red hair that he could always remember.

Mirana ended up dead in New York City.

Though, as Jackson stood in shock, his eyes caught a black figure standing. It was ginormous, skin wrinkled up to its spine and a black aura surrounding them as well. However, its paws held thick claws that were stained red.

This isn’t real.

The monster turned and saw Jackson.

This isn’t real.

It took a single step towards him.

He could barely think.

He could barely tell reality anymore

However, one single thought formed completely.

Run.

#old writing #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #My writing #bst jackson #think of it as sort of a side story #these guys are actually helpful

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essaysbyciara · 5 years

Text

Thy Neighbor II: Lovin’ The Crew [Chapters 7 + 8!]

[Prologue] [Chapters 1 + 2] [Chapters 3 + 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

Y’all have no idea how much the love I received for chapter six meant to me. I was having a pretty rough day and y’all helped to live my spirits. THANK YOU!

As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know. Peace & Love! We’re almost at the halfway point!

CHAPTER SEVEN

It’s quiet as a church mouse inside of Penn’s library on this Friday night, just the way Ciara likes it. As much as she loves the distractive “study buddy” that is Trevante, she rather find herself hunched in the stacks of the library, books as the only thing keeping her company.

She finds herself inside of the small study room right next to the Philosophy and Religious Studies section of the library. Although Fridays bring quiet, tonight feels different. Midterms time different. Students forgo the Jagermeisters and Natty Lights for one night in the stacks, enough to erase their guilt for not being in the books enough every other day of the year. Ciara caught that guilt too, thanks to Y’lan. That’s why she’s here.

Ciara had Y’lan on her mind when she walked into her apartment that night after their meeting. She forgot how much he would make her melt caught up in his sweltering energy. Knowing that he belongs to no one, the idea of him coming back into her life pressed her core.

She felt herself ache in the same places he ignited every time he touched her, reminiscing about those times she couldn’t wait for him to leave her apartment so she could “get it over with.” But now she didn’t need a toy, she had Trevante.

Come over. I need you so bad.

They didn’t make it to her room.

She found herself alone that next morning. Trevante didn’t stay the night and for the first time since she broke her rules to have sex with Trevante, she felt like one of his rostermates. Trevante disappeared too early to caress her back as her body laid on top of his, drifting in and out of sleep. There wasn’t any small talk before he got into the shower, no whispers begging her to call out of work. Instead she woke up to her naked body, covered by one of her cheap throws, barely hanging onto her couch, wondering why Trevante left her there in the cold without his body to keep her warm.

She thought she was excluded from that type of treatment. But then her mind twisted it into some penance for calling Trevante over to satiate what Y’lan created within her.

So as Ciara chomps at her thesis paper, she pines away to hit the halfway point before midnight. She needed to escape into calm before the storm: No Trevante, no Y’lan, no sex, no noise. Especially with her girls’ weekend with Mahalia and Ashley just one week away.

It’s been so long since she’s parked in her saved seat at Ngosi with Ashley behind the bar and Mahalia by her side. Mahalia and Ashley miss their girl too.

As Ashley preps for the late night rush, she looks over to Mahalia staring at a Twitter timeline barely moving on a Friday night. She can tell Mahalia misses her best friend.

“Is Ciara coming later, Ma…?”

“"No. She's probably under Trevante right now."

"Girl, no she ain't..."

"Oh she ain't tell you..."

Ashley slams the cash register drawer closed and whips around to look at Mahalia. She thought Ciara heeded all the warnings.

"Trevante hit, Ash..."

"Okay, we need this trip to get here like now...Ciara, damn..."

“Girl, I know. I need this shit to stop.”

Mahalia’s hate for Trevante grows after every minute Ciara doesn’t respond to her text. Although she knows Ciara is being a good girl tonight by hiding in the library, she wants reassurance that Ciara is on her right grind. She then desires a green light to prove to Ciara that Trevante isn’t worth the contradiction she bathes herself in every night.

As Ashley bathes her glasses in rinse water, she notices Trevante walk into Ngosi with several men in tow, decked in greek paraphernalia. “Oh shit. Lambda Lambda Phi until we die just walked up in here.” They’re turning all the heads as they locate a long table.

“Ashley, hide the Alize. You know they the cheap ones. Make sense Trevante is one of them.”

But what Mahalia sees next makes her grab her phone to text Ciara. The green light to get her best friend back just walked in the door alongside Trevante.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Who let these little girls in here?”

Mahalia marvels at Meganne and her sorority sisters gazing at Trevante’s mouth with every word he speaks. Although he promised his frat to take out the neophytes from nearby LaSalle, he wasn’t expecting to see Meganne and her friends, forgetting that her sorority would be at the Lambda’s Fall probate. So when Meganne saw Trevante ordering Ubers for all of his new “bruhs”, her and her girls flirted with one of the new greeks to get details. Suddenly, they weren’t far behind and it was too late for Trevante to tell her not to come.

“Girl, I don’t know. But I’m going to kill the bouncer for letting them in here.” Ashley stalks from behind the bar, walking up to Trevante’s table full of Lambda babies. She settles in front of Trevante with an incredulous look, berating Trevante with just her eyes for surrounding himself with the girl crew.

“Baby girl, can I see your ID?”

“Why? They checked it at the door.”

“It’s Friday night. We check twice.”

The non-descript sorority girl rolls her eyes as she hands over her ID. Ashley points to the other girls to give up their identities while Trevante tries not to catch eyes with her. He peers over to the bar, hoping that Mahalia in’t there yet discovering there will be no such luck tonight. With fears of her sending an incriminating text to her best friend, he sends a preemptive one to Ciara. He’ll put out the fire once he gets home.

You still coming home around midnight, right?

Ciara pulls out her earbuds at the sight of her phone vibrating on top of the desk. When she sees Trevante’s name, she smiles. Nevermind those thoughts of feeling left like one of his groupies last night.

Yeah, love. What’s up?

She’s hoping that Trevante will tell her that he misses her, that he rather not be around these college kids. He told her that he found himself obligated to take the new frat out on the town but she wants to read that he can’t wait to see her, that he is on his way home and will ride all the way over to West Philadelphia to pick her up.

Nothing. Just checking.

That isn’t the answer she craves to hear from Trevante. As she puts down her phone, she notices a large presence standing just inside of the doorframe to the study room. Once she looks up, the figure begins to move down the hallway.

“Winston, wait!”

Winston turns around to find Ciara standing outside of the door, waving for him to come back. Winston finds himself in the library as well, working on the plethora of papers and projects he has due. He walked past Ciara once with his eyes glued through the glass as he watched her map out her research paper on the white board. He wanted to talk to her, only stopping himself to not interrupt her even after his heart worked up the nerve to even take a chance.

“Hey, Winston. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you by the door.”

“Oh, it’s okay. You were zoned in.”

Waiting for a text from Trevante, not on her paper.

“Yeah. You’re working on papers?”

“Yes. They’re beating my as--sorry.”

“Are you apologizing for cursing?” Ciara laughs at Winston’s adorable nature. She hated to turn him down after he asked her out on a date, especially after she felt vibes and energy between them as she toured him around campus. But since she knew him as Y’lan’s friend, she decided against it, even when she was free and in the clear.

The hypocrisy of her dating Trevante despite his friendship with Y’lan is beyond apparent to her now.

“Sorry. I was raised not to cuss in front of women.” Winston punches his statement by pushing up his glasses.

“I respect tradition, Sir. It’s all good.”

It’s all good to Winston too, marveling at Ciara’s body in her cut off school hoodie, tights and classic Jordans. Big hoop earrings and braids in a half-bun, the rest cascading down her back. Winston’s large frame gave him nightmares about crushing his lovers. He knew he wouldn’t have that problem with Ciara. He’s trying yet failing to coerce his sexual thoughts into a restful position, especially as he watches Ciara walk into the study room. He follows her like a magnet.

And makes a move.

“You mind if I work on my paper in here? I didn’t see many open spaces out there.”

Ciara looks out to see quite a few open tables in the main part of the library but she humors Winston. Trevante doesn’t have attention to spare yet Winston’s attention is undivided.

“Of course! Let me clear you off some space.”

As Ciara cleans off her study space, she receives a text from Mahalia.

I guess your man loves hanging out with little kids. SMH

Taglist: @doublesidedscoobysnacks @diva-princess-on-fleek @voyagetoadinas9 @walkrightuptothesun @wvsspoppin @dreamlovealways @rockwit609 @thegayaxeman @joyfulwombatdreamermaker @blackpinup22 @hookedtoherfire @kris-did-it @l-auteuse @styleismyaddiction

#trevante rhodes #thy neighbor #y'lan noel #trevante rhodes x fanfiction #winston duke

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strawberriestyles · 6 years

Text

Part 1: Kidney

(BANNER MADE BY MY TALENTED SWEETIE PIE @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which you’re persuaded to help a young witch named Harry.

Read previous part here.

Word count: 4k

Author’s note: Originally, everything was kinda supposed to line up and the part that I was going to post on Halloween was actually supposed to be set on Halloween night, but life gets in the way and things don’t work out. :( I’m sort of sad I wasn’t able to get everything done and give it to y’all the way I had envisioned. This is the best I can do, and I hope it’s enough. Please let me know if you enjoy it or if you have any thoughts at all! Happy Halloreading. Xx

The telltale signs of fall have truly begun to reveal themselves. Along every sidewalk, there seems to be chunky knit sweaters and scuffed Chelsea boots, pumpkin-flavored snacks and mulled apple cider. Normally, Harry would roll his eyes at the widespread commonality of it all, but he’s too preoccupied. He’s got his nose buried deep in a page of words that he can’t seem to make out, nothing more than a bunch of gibberish.

If anyone was watching, they might notice that the heavy library door swings open before Harry has even made contact with the handle. They might catch the way his eyes seem to glow as this happens. But no one is watching and no on notices.

The thick heels of Harry’s boots click against the stone floors. He carries himself across the deep lobby, eyes still perusing his sheet of paper, until he reaches the stairs that will lead him to the library’s next level. At the top of them, he swings left, maneuvering between shelves so effortlessly that it’s like he’s in his own home. Books on Latin language are tucked away in a dark corner, one that he’s very familiar with. He spends large portions of his free time here. And he’s never worried about books being checked out, because after all, Latin is a dead language. But Harry is confused when he reaches reflexively for the book he always uses, the one that’s easiest to navigate, and his fingers find nothing but air.

His eyes finally lift away from the paper in his hand. Layers of dust have settled over everything in this section, but in the empty shelf space for his book, there are tracks through the dust from his constant readings. It’s coated the tips of his searching fingers, and he wipes the residue on the side of his jeans, sighing. Frustrated and disoriented, Harry yanks another book from the shelf and retreats from the corner, back into the main walkway. He taps across the room to his usual spot, at a table disconnected from the main reading area, but again he’s surprised.

Your foot is bopping out of beat to the song playing through your earbuds, and a ready pen is caught between your teeth as you skim a few pages of text. You don’t even notice that someone has approached you. You don’t notice the man leaned up against the edge of your table until your music suddenly begins to cut out. You jump when you do notice him.

“Jesus!” Without even removing your earbuds, you can hear your own voice echo off of the stone floors. You clap a hand over your mouth. You’re not supposed to make noises that echo in a library.

Pulling your earbuds out, you take a moment to examine their cords, looking for any damage that might explain their spotty sound. You find nothing. The stranger clears his throat and when you look up he’s staring at you. His eyes are bright, almost glowing in the dim light from a wall sconce.

“Can I help you?” you ask when he still hasn’t spoken.

“Yeah. Are yeh gonna be usin’ tha’ book for much longer?”

You notice his gaze divert to the thick Latin book you’d been studying. Your fingers splay over your page to make sure that you don’t lose your spot.

“Um, yeah. I was gonna be here for a few more hours.”

You can see the man grit his teeth, see him twist to stretch his neck. The wall sconce, your only source of light in this corner, flickers momentarily. It draws your attention.

“You read Latin?” he asks, pulling your gaze back around to him. Maybe you imagine it, but you’re sure you can hear sarcasm, condescension in his voice. “Yes, a bit,” you answer, shifting in your chair. “I’m a language major.”

“Are yeh?” The man seems to consider this, glancing down at his own book. Then he settles his mind and looks back up at you with challenging eyes. “Yeh think yeh could try t’translate this for me?”

He holds out a piece of paper to you. After a brief hesitation—you have an exam coming up later this week—you take the sheet from him. It’s scribbled across with sloppy Latin. You flatten the page out on top of your book.

“What’s this for?” you ask. “A class?”

“No, ‘m not a student.”

You frown, but this is all the information he gives you. He watches you expectantly until you turn your attention to his page of text and begin to piece together words. Then you glance back up at him, unamused.

“Wha’?”

“Is this a joke?”

“No, ‘s not. Wha’ does it say?”

You slip the paper toward him across your table. “It’s nonsense. Something about boiling the kidney of a raccoon.”

The stranger’s face lights up, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so confused and uncomfortable. “Yeh’re pretty good with your Latin, aren’ yeh?”

“I like to think so.”

“I’m Harry.”

You lick your lips and hesitate when he holds out a hand decorated with old-looking rings. But he raises an eyebrow after a moment, so you shake his hand, nearly flinching at how cold the metal of his jewelry is against your skin.

“Y/N,” you introduce.

“Well, Y/N, d’yeh think yeh could do some more translations for me? I have a whole book at home tha’s takin’ me forever t’get through, and yeh would speed the entire process up a lot.”

Your face contorts as you finally set your earbuds down. “Is that supposed to be a pick-up line? Because it’s the strangest one I’ve ever heard.”

“If yeh’d like it t’be a pick-up line, sure.” Harry grins, and it seems genuine and charming. “But if tha’s not enough, I’ll pay yeh for translatin’.” By now he’s set his book down and his hands lay flat on the table. He’s a lot closer. You notice that he doesn’t smell like most men your age, like cologne and sweat. Instead, he smells of earth and spices. It’s a comfortable scent.

“Before I agree to anything,” you begin, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, “what is this book? And why are you reading it?”

Harry grins again and his eyes almost sparkle. “‘S a spellbook and ‘m workin’ on an important spell.”

Despite yourself, you crack a smile. “So, you’re either crazy or you don’t wanna tell me,” you observe. “How much are you paying?”

“How much would I need?” Harry asks. He straightens back up and runs his fingers slowly through his hair.

“Well,” you answer, closing up your book. You don’t feel completely unprepared for your exam, and your grades won’t suffer much even if you are. “I guess we can figure that out once I know how much I’m translating.”

***

“You live here?”

Harry glances up at the house as you slam the car door shut. He shrugs. “Yeah. Rent’s cheap.”

“Probably because people were murdered here,” you mutter under your breath. You’d been surprised when Harry had led you to a car from the library and not directly to his place. You’d been slightly cautious as he took the road out of the town and turned into a dirt drive. But now that you’re here, you find yourself feeling apprehensive. It’s not that the little house is scary. It could certainly use a paint job and some trimming of the ivy that has wrapped its way up the corners, but in fact, it’s quite charming. It’s more the seclusion of it from town, and the strange air that seems to hover around it, thick and perfumed. Trees, beginning to bare their branches, form a tight circle around the building. A short gust of wind blows a group of leaves past your feet.

“Y/N,” Harry calls from the front door, which he has unlocked, and where he’s standing in the frame. “Yeh comin’ in?”

Stuffing your hands into the pockets of your jacket, you trek across the lawn to where Harry is holding the door open for you. He lets you pass by him and then follows you inside. It’s dark. The windows that you can see appear to be coated with a layer of grime. Some thick, dark residue that you’re sure would stick to your skin.

Harry leads you deeper into the house until you’re standing at the edge of a living room. You can’t see much, but then Harry approaches the wall beside you and reaches up. His forefinger and thumb press together over the wick of an unlit candle held in a candelabra. When he pulls his hand away, a flame has sparked. He repeats the process twice more with the other candles on the candelabra, and you can feel your body begin to turn icy from your feet, up through your legs.

“How did you do that?” you ask, licking your lips habitually.

“Magic,” Harry answers, turning to smile at you. There’s a twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips that somehow dulls your anxiety. Despite yourself, you let out a short chuckle.

As Harry rounds into a hallway beside the candles, you take the time to observe your surroundings with the fresh light. It’s rather bare furniture-wise. A single couch is placed in the center of the room. A wooden chair has been tucked away into the far corner, carved with ornate designs that you can’t make out from where you stand. Next to the chair are two windows which barely let any sunlight in. But along nearly every wall stand tall shelves stacked with books and knickknacks. Things that sparkle in the flickering candlelight, things that seem to glow all on their own, things that look to be spinning.

You shriek and jump back against a wall as something rubs up against your ankles. When you look down, green eyes are glowing up at you. It’s a cat.

Harry pokes his head out from the hall that he disappeared down. He chuckles at your defensive body language.

“Tha’s Nicks,” he informs you.

“Is he nice?” you ask softly. The cat sits before you, flicking its tail rhythmically as it watches you. A strange humming reverberates from its throat, and you know that’s not a purr.

“She is nice, as long as yeh don’ offend her. And it looks like yeh might’ve already done tha’, so.” Harry walks around Nicks, who keeps her eyes trained on you as he reaches for your hand. You give it to him, carefully avoiding the cat as Harry pulls you toward the hall. Nicks's head twists around as you leave.

"She gets kinda jealous when I give someone else attention," Harry explains. He drops your hand at the doorway to another room and moves across the floor.

Glancing around, you find that you appear to be in a kitchen, though a small one. There's a short row of counters and dark cabinets to your left. A sink is situated in the center of them. In the middle of the room, taking up a majority of the floor space, is a thick wooden table that looks home-built. On top of it lays a handful of herbs and an unlabeled bottle of something that you can smell from where you stand. Choking on the scent, you take a step backward until you hit the wall. Something digs into your back and when you turn around, it's a light switch. But there is another candelabra hanging on the wall to your right. It holds flames which light up the area of the room that sunlight from the windowed door on the far wall doesn't reach. You look to Harry, who is digging through what appears to be a pantry at the other end of the kitchen.

"Do you not have electricity?" you ask. You take a step forward to observe the bottled material on the table.

"I do," Harry answers. He steps back from the pantry, and what he brings with him isn't food. It's a bouquet of purple wildflowers. You frown as he sets the flowers on the corner of the table and returns to the pantry. "I prefer candlelight. Feels more natural, yeh know?"

"What are you doing?" You round the table to stand behind Harry. "I thought I was supposed to translate a book for you."

He must answer you, but you don't hear his words. You've stumbled back away from the pantry door and Harry. The things that you see on the shelves inside are enough to make your blood run cold. There are the high-stacked piles of herbs and flowers, like the ones that Harry's already placed on the table. But then there are tiny skulls that you think must be the heads of helpless animals. On the shelf at face-level, there's a giant jar of something so red and thick that you can't think of anything it could be other than pure blood. And on the top shelf, tucked to the far right there's a smaller jar full of spheres suspended in a clear liquid. Eyeballs.

The breath leaves your lungs as you hit the edge of the table and it impedes your retreat. You gasp as Harry twists around to look at you, another jar of something in his hand. He's frowning, but he still looks calm. You feel anything but.

"Y/N, before yeh start—"

You shriek as Harry takes a wide step toward you, hurrying back to the other end of the room, where the long table can keep you separated. Harry looks slightly annoyed, but not angry. You stand poised on your toes, ready to run.

"I already told yeh what I was—"

"There is a jar of eyeballs in your kitchen pantry, Harry,” you snap as he takes a step toward you again. The candle flames flicker, almost extinguished as though a breeze has whipped through the room, but you don’t feel any movement in the air.

“Yes, there is,” he agrees. “I need ‘em for spells sometimes. But ‘s not like they’re human eyes, Y/N.”

“What does that matter?” you shout. “You’re crazy!”

Harry rolls his eyes and begins walking toward you. In a fit of panic, you knock the mysterious bottle onto the ground and rush around the length of the table until you can reach the door at the other end of the room. You yank it open, tripping over the threshold as you escape into the outdoors.

The wind has picked up, lifting flurries of dry leaves into the air and making the tree branches above you moan. Your thoughts churn quickly until you throw yourself around the corner of the house, pressing yourself up against the exterior wall. Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you hear the kitchen door swing open and then slam back into place. You take a chance and peek around the corner to see Harry strolling out into the woods. You wait until he’s disappeared between the trees and then you take off in the other direction, toward the front of the house and the long, winding, dirt driveway that will lead you back to the main road.

The air has cooled since you’ve been here. The sun has begun to fall with the late afternoon. You’re glad that you didn’t shed your jacket inside as you trek along the path.

You don’t know how long you walk for. It took a good few minutes to drive from the main road to the house, and it will take much longer to return on foot. But then you see a building in the distance, old with peeling white paint and ivy growing up the walls—Harry’s house.

“How did I...”

“Ah, good.”

You jump as Harry pushes himself away from a tree to your left. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He keeps his distance this time, hoping not to scare you off.

“That doesn’t make sense. I was walking in the other direction.”

Harry nods, flashing you a sympathetic half-smile. "Not really. Yeh just followed the path."

This does nothing to clear it up for you, but you don't respond.

"Yeh must be gettin' cold. D'yeh wanna come back inside?" Harry asks. He tilts his head and waits patiently for your response, eyes calculating. Then he smiles again. "I'll keep the eyeballs hidden."

You frown at his attempt to joke, but you nod. There's no point in staying outside when it will only continue to get darker and colder, and Harry's the one with a car.

He leads you back to the front door of the house and into the living room. "Why don' yeh sit down?" Harry suggests. He watches you settle onto the couch, though you don't look to be anywhere near comfortable. Your veins, which were humming with adrenaline, have dulled to a sort of acceptance. "Do yeh believe me now?" Harry asks, leaned up against a set of shelves, keeping his distance, and you nod. Maybe it's shock, or curiosity, or something else, but your fear seems to have dissipated.

"Tha's good." Harry grins at you in approval and then stands up straight. He reaches up onto the second shelf behind him and pulls down a thick leather book. Its spine is cracked and worn. There are characters on the front cover, but you can't see them clearly enough before Harry presses the book to his chest. He catches you watching him. "I'll be right back," he says. "Need t'copy some things for yeh t'translate."

“Can’t I just read right from the book?" you ask. "Your handwriting is not that neat.”

“No, yeh can’." Harry ignores your comment about his writing and heads toward the hall into the kitchen. "Yeh’re a mortal," he adds as he turns the corner. "It’ll burn the eyes right outta your skull.”

You don't move for a few moments. Your mind is too focused on the picture Harry's words have conjured up. In your palms, you hold your own eyes, alive and slimy. Your sight is aimed at your face, the features slightly familiar, but where your eyes should actually sit there are just empty craters pooling with blood that drips down your cheeks like tears.

You shiver and try to recover from the disturbing image before you glance around the room, this time paying closer attention to the details. The chair in the corner isn't covered in decorative woodwork, it's carved with Latin letters and even more ancient symbols and runes. On the shelves closest to you, you see books similar to the one you had been reading earlier at the library, only older and perhaps less detailed. And there's a large hunk of glass. A crystal ball, you realize. You're in the home of a witch.

Harry returns to the room carrying a big ceramic mug. You sit back again so it doesn't look like you were snooping, but he's not fooled.

"Very subtle," he commends with a short chuckle. "Drink this."

Your eyes widen as Harry holds the mug out to you. You look up at him, perplexed. "Why the fuck would I do that?" you ask. “What's it gonna do, make me grow a curly pink tail? Shrink me into a beetle?"

"'S tea."

"Oh." You can feel your skin tingle with embarrassment.

"T’calm yeh down," Harry explains. He smiles again when you take the mug from him. You note that he smiles a lot. "Yeh have this crazy agita’ed aura around yeh. ‘S makin’ me uncomfortable."

"I'm making you uncomfortable?" Steam unfurls from the tea up into your face and it smells herbal. "What's in this?"

"Rosemary, chamomile, cinnamon, a couple other things." Harry nods encouragingly. "Try it."

As you take a small sip of your tea, taking care not to burn yourself, Harry slips his mysterious book back into its place on the shelves. Then he clasps his hands together at his front, his rings clinking together as he watches you.

"What?"

"Nothin'. Come into the kitchen."

You stand, hands wrapping around the warmth of your mug of tea, and follow him back into the hall. The chair closest to the kitchen's entrance is pulled out from the table and a sheet of paper lays before it. Harry motions for you to sit and leans up against the counter. Just as you take your seat, he turns to the stove and a pot that sits on a burner. He removes the lid and stirs its contents slowly with a wooden spoon before replacing the lid crookedly. Without a word, he skirts around you to leave the kitchen. You lower your eyes to the Latin scribbles before you.

It's then, when Harry's left you and the palpable weight of his presence is gone, that you notice the scent of spices. You haven't so much as skimmed Harry's paper before your gaze is drawn to the stove. A cooling kettle sits off to one side of the grates, on the other side is the pot that is positioned over a blue flame. Steam rises from the cracked lid and you're sure that this is the where the smell is coming from. You cross the floor before you realize what you're doing. Then a black shape is whipping through the room, between your legs, nearly knocking you off your feet. You stagger to keep your balance and let out a hiccuped gasp.

"Don' seem t'be gettin' on very well with her."

Attempting to catch your breath, you turn to find Harry in the doorway again. He takes a step into the room and reaches out to pet Nicks, who after tripping you has found her way onto the table. She purrs at the touch of his fingers. You watch, unsettled, as she stands and creeps along beneath his hands, arching her back, until she's facing you, her beady eyes calculating.

“Are you cooking something?” you ask in an attempt to switch subjects, reaching for the lid of the pot.

“Yeh don’ wanna look in there," Harry warns. His voice has a sharp edge about it that makes you pause.

“Why not?”

“‘S that raccoon kidney yeh told me about.” Harry chuckles as you draw your hand away from the pot quickly enough to tweak a muscle in your shoulder. "Maybe yeh'd be best not t'keep snoopin' through m'stuff."

"I'm not snooping," you protest, but the reality of your behavior makes you keep your mouth shut when he shoots you a pointed stare.

You get the hint and slowly return to your seat, attempting to divert your attention to translating. It's hard to focus.

“So, where’s your broomstick?” you ask after a few moments.

“Wha’ the fuck do I look like t’you?” Harry lets out a breath of disbelief from beside the stove. He's removed the lid again and is stirring in what look to be flower petals.

"I thought you were a... magician, or something."

Harry rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch. "Can call me wha' yeh want. I prefer 'witch'. Has more of a ring to it. But don' get distracted, now."

You remember why you're here. Taking another gulp of your tea, which has cooled just enough to be comfortable, you get back to Latin. But it's hard when you're so preoccupied, when there's a real-life witch standing in front of you, and you barely have any information about him. Harry can see the questions coming before you even look up.

“Do you, like, transform into a bat or something, then?”

“Tha’s vampires, for fuck’s sake.” Harry lifts his hands frustratedly to his hair, but he laughs.

"Do you know a vampire?" you ask, intrigued.

Harry shakes his head, closing up the pot and shutting away whatever solution is cooking inside of it. "Vampires aren' real. Just a creature made up for mortals' entertainment." He sighs and turns to settle into the chair to your left, giving up. "I take it yeh're not gonna get t'the Latin, then."

"I just have a lot to ask you." You slide the page away from you, across the table, and turn your body toward him. He's settled in, his hands tucked behind his head, his eyes resting shut.

"Fine," Harry says, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the onslaught of questions he's about to receive. "I'll answer your questions." His lips curve upward after a short pause. "But 'm not payin' yeh for today."

Part 2: Hellfire

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #witch!harry #blood moon

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xxbluecullenwritingxx · 5 years

Text

Binding of Beau || Chapter One

|| Index ||

Beau stepped outside carrying a suitcase full of her clothing and a backpack full of other things to bring along to her father's house. She rechecked her backpack to make sure she had everything. Notebook, phone charger, laptop, the books I haven’t read yet. After checking a few more times she knew she had everything she wanted to bring. She put her suitcase and backpack in the backside of her step-dad, Phil’s, car. Beau knew her mom was likely in the house checking and rechecking that she had everything. Shutting the trunk of the car sighing and putting her thumbs in her pocket.

“Beau!” A voice that she knew all too well called, a voice she would miss.

Beau turned around turned around and suddenly there were arms around her, almost crushing her spine. There was James, as emotional as he’d been when she first met him the first year of highschool. Trying to take my hands out of my pocket to hug back proved difficult with him pinning her arms down. Damn it, if he keeps this up I’m going to cry. Beau took her hands out of her pockets and awkwardly try and hug back, which proved hard since James as successfully succeeded in pinning her arms to her sides.

“Hey,” she said quietly, scared her voice would crack if she spoke up even a little.

James pulled back and smiled sadly at her, in his hands he held a small cactus. Before she could ask why he was holding a potted cactus pushed it toward her, expecting her to take it — she did.

“So you won’t forget about us back home yeah?” James said.

Beau smiled softly. James had been the only real friend she had here in Arizona, thought she had met a few people through James that she managed to get along with... but now that was all changing. She bit her tongue in an attempt to not tear up knowing that she was saying goodbye to her best friend... her only friend really.

“Hey... don’t look like that, I’ll come to visit during the summer. And hey, you can always come to stay with us if Charlie drives you up the wall too much.”

“Thanks, James” Beau said when she was confident that her voice wouldn’t crack, or waver.

“James, coming with us to the airport?” Beau’s mother asked from behind her, as she walked out of the house Phil by her.

“I thought about it, but I might cry if I do that so...” he trailed off before looking at his best friend.

Now it was Beau’s was turn to pull him into one last hug. James was the only one she could truly be herself around, and she wasn’t going to see him for a long time. It felt like it would be forever until the next time they saw one another... though she had his number as a speed dial contact on her phone, and she knew they would text constantly. Still, the thought of leaving him in Arizona and going to Forks, Washington to live with her father was making her miserable. James gently patted Beau’s head.

“I’m going to miss you B” James whispered, knowing better than to call her ‘Beau’ in front of her family.

The girl cursed under her breath as she started tearing up. “I’m gonna miss you too” she admitted.

“You two are being very sweet, but we’re going to miss your flight Bella and ours, so let's get a move on,” Phil’s voice broke through the moment, making Beau flinch slightly.

James gave her a sympathetic look and kissed the top of her head before pulling away. Beau watch him start to walk back to his house. He turned back to look at Beau waved his hand.

“Call me when you get settled in!” he called.

Beau gave him a thumbs up before getting in the car. The ride to the airport felt too short for Beau’s liking and it made her stomach feel like it was doing flips. Her mom and Phil were in the front holding hands. It reminded her of why she was moving in with her father Charlie in the first place... for her mom. Phil was a minor league baseball player, so he traveled a lot for work, and because of Beau her mother always had to stay back whenever he left for a game, after talking it over with Beau one afternoon she decided she would rather her mother be happy spending some time with Phil, even if it meant she’d be miserable in Forks for the rest of high school.

Beau got out of the car and grabbed her suitcase and backpack, while her mother got out to walk her inside, with Phil walking a little behind them to give the two of them some privacy.

“Bella are you sure-”

“Yes mom...” she said softly “don’t worry about me, I’m excited to spend some good quality time with Ch- dad” Beau smiled, still holding the small cactus in her hand, wondering if they would let her take it on the plane with her, maybe she should shove it in her backpack and let it sit there until she landed in Forks.

He mother smiled at her and pulled her into a hug. “I’m going to miss you Bella,” her mother said softly. Beau inwardly cringed but hugged her mother back tightly.

“I’ll miss you too mom, I’ll call you as soon as I can after landing,” Beau said looking into her mother's eyes. She was worried about leaving the harebrained women alone a lot of the time.

“Okay,” her mother said.

After a few more minutes of goodbyes, Beau got on the plane, grabbing her iPod out of her backpack once electronics were allowed on and closed her eyes to let the music in her earbuds drift her to another reality. A reality where this wasn’t happening, where everything felt like it wasn’t falling apart... where she didn’t feel so confused.

Beau didn’t know when she had fallen asleep but the stewardess woke her up as the plane was landing. She was groggy as she got off the plane, finally able to take her little plant friend out of her backpack and let it get some real air. Her eyes landed on Charlie almost immediately and she walked to him, in his police uniform.

“Hey, Bell’s,” Charlie said softly, instead of hug he reached and took her suitcase, despite the fact she would rather carry it herself.

“Hey dad,” she said, internally begging for the awkwardness to die down.

“How was the flight?” he said as he started walking her out and lead her -- to her horror -- the police car.

“It was... okay,” she said after a pause, nodding a bit.

They got in and left the airport, Beau leaned back in her seat, the radio playing some old rock station on low, with bands probably from her dad’s teenage years. She couldn’t help but tap her foot along to some of the songs. Beau expected the ride there to be painfully silent, and she almost preferred the, but her father spoke up.

“so I know you wanted to get a car of some sort,”

“Um... yeah, having my own ride would be nice,” she said.

“Well uh... I found this truck for pretty cheap, it had just been fixed up and runs like a dream” Charlie said.

Beau felt herself sigh, the ‘cheap’ part worried her, she just expected to have to walk to school or suffer the embarrassment of having the ride the police chiefs car for a while before getting her own car.

“How cheap are we talking?” she asked.

“Well… actually I already got it off of Billy Black for free... do you remember him?” he asked.

Beau silently shook her head and sighed. Perfect. Beau hated that she might be driving a clunker that would draw unwanted attention to her way. But she tried to stay a little positive, at least no rides from the chief to school! Beau felt a small sigh leave her lips and she looked out the window, as both of them let that silence creep over the car again and this time it stayed that way.

Charlie finally pulled up to his house, the first thing Beau’s eyes landed on was the house, it looked like it had never changed, a small tire swing hung from one of the trees from, a small attempt her father made to give the house more appeal to come back to for Beau. Then her eyes went to the big red Chevy truck parked in her father's driveway, to Beau surprise, she loved it.

“Oh my god, Dad... that's mine?” she asked looking at Charlie.

Beau’s father seems pleased with his daughter reaction and smiled giving a sharp nod “yes mam’ all yours” he said. Beau ignored the dreadful feeling she got from those words, she didn’t know why she felt so... detached from them but she had gotten used to that feeling that it was almost normal for her heart to sink and stomach to lurch a little each time someone said something like that.

“Well get out go have a look at it!” her dad encouraged.

Beau nodded and quickly got out of Charlie's car slinging her backpack over her shoulder and quickly walked over to the truck. Charlie was left with the task of grabbing her suitcase out of the car before joining Beau by the truck. Beau’s eyes lit up looking at the truck. Big, sturdy, definitely old, but safe.

“It's perfect!” she said looking at Charlie.

“Well I’m glad you like it Bells” Charlie smiled placing his hand on her shoulder it was meant to be a loving gesture, no doubt, but it seemed to make both of them uncomfortable, he quickly retracted his hand.

Beau smiled softly and they walked inside together. Her dad lead her to her room, a dull pink, from when her father had first painted it, in the corner a rocking chair that has small bits of paint chipped off. The only thing he seems to have changed is the fact the bed was now a twin sized mattress, instead of a crib, and there was now a desk with a computer that looked like it belonged back in the 1980s hooked up to the phone line. Beau could only guess it would make that horrible dial-up sound each time she wanted to go on the internet, she would try to keep her internet usage limited to emailing and of course skype calls if the internet would even be able to handle that. May use that car money for a laptop.

Beau looked over toward her father and smiled, her father set down her suitcase before clapping his hands.

“Right... I’ll leave you to get settled then,” he said.

Beau nodded and watched as he left the room, that was the best thing about Charlie, he didn’t hover. She could cry if she wanted to, now that there was no one around to see her, so she let out a few tears as she unpacked everything from her suitcase. Dinner with Charlie went smoother than expected, and after a shower, she turned in early. Beau didn’t sleep very well, considering the rain outside felt too loud hitting against the roof, and the occasional scraping of the tree against her window. Only after throwing on her headphones and pulling the blankets over her head did she manage to actually get some rest.

The next morning she still felt tired but got dressed and tried not to spend to long looking in the mirror and obsessing over the way her clothes hugged her body. She grabbed her basically empty backpack and ran down the stairs to see her father was already gone, most days would probably be like this, but she didn’t mind that, she even found herself planning try and wake up a little earlier so she could have the house to herself and maybe even cook some breakfast. Beau walked over to the pantry and looked through her father's food her eyes finally settling on a box of blueberry pop tarts, she grabbed one of the packets and put them into the toaster glancing back and forth between the toaster and clock while waiting for them to warm up. When they popped up she grabbed the hot pop tarts out of the toaster hissing slightly as she put them on a napkin and running to her car throwing the hood of her oversized sweater over her head, she got into her truck as quickly as possible and put the pop tarts on her cup holder breaking off pieces as she drove her car to the small collection of buildings that made up the Forks High School. Multiple small square buildings, Beau assumed that each building probably held one or two classes at most.

Beau drove around the parking lot for awhile before eventually finding a parking spot for her truck. She parked, getting out and walking to what looked like the main building. She went in pausing a moment before walking up the front desk and were an overly cheery, plump women with tight curls in her hair sat.

“Hello dear,” the women said cheerfully, her smile almost hurt Beau’s cheeks.

“Hi... I’m Bea- Isabella Swan” Beau said forcing herself not the flinch at the name.

“Oh! Isabella, my you have grown, Charlie hasn’t stopped talking about you since he heard you were coming up to live with him!” she said excitedly “oh I’ll get you your schedule and a map, your teachers will give you your books, but I also have a slip that you need your teachers to sign” she rambled as she got to work grabbing stuff from her desk.

Beau sat there and nodded politely as the women, which by the name tag was named Mrs.Mongo, over explained everything, eventually though Beau was able to mumble a quick goodbye and make her escape. She walked to her truck burying her nose into the map trying to burn it into her memory so she wouldn’t have to look at it later while walking around the school. Beau just wanted to blend in and if she was lucky to go unnoticed the whole day, and if she was even luckier go the whole year without any unwanted attention. Once Beau was sure she knew the lay out of the school, she shoved the map, along with her schedule into the pocket of her hoodie and walked toward her first class building. English.

Almost right away as she entered the building, Beau felt eyes on her, getting a look at the ‘new girl’, it made her hair stand on end to know so many people were looking at her. Just breath. she walked up the teacher and gave her the slip.

“Ah, Isabella Swan,” the teacher said.

Beau couldn’t stop herself from flinching this time “Bella” she corrected, she would rather be called Bella if she had to choose between the two. The teacher just nodded and signed the sheet, before handing her a book from the desk they were by.

“You can sit wherever if free, we don’t have any seating arrangements in this classroom” the women smiled.

Beau nodded and walked to a desk at the back of the room and sat down, hugging herself slightly as she got comfortable and tried to blend in with the seat.

“Like vultures aren’t they?” a girls voice caught her attention and Beau looked to see a black hair girl with glasses and a slightly shy smile had been the one to speak to her first.

“Sorry?” Beau said.

“Everyone staring... like vultures looking at prey,” she said her confidence seeming to waver now.

Beau glanced around at the people making quick glances at her, while others full on staring at her and not bothering to hid it “Yeah... like vultures” she agreed to make the girl smile.

“I’m Angela, your Isabella right?” she asked.

“Just Bella” Beau corrected.

“Okay well, Just Bella, what's your next class?” she asked.

Beau grabbed the crumpled up piece of paper from her hoodie pocket and uncrumpled it staring at the schedule “um... history?” she said after a small bit.

“cool I can walk you there, that right next to the biology building,” Angela said before going quiet as the teacher started the lesson.

Angela did walk her to her class, chatting idly as they walked. Angela was a friendly shy type, apologizing every now and then for saying something, hugging her books to her chest as they walked, going on about the school paper she worked for. Beau didn’t mind, it was endearing in a way. During history, she met another boy named Eric, who knew Angela and also worked for the paper, and Beau ended up having another person walk her to her next class. Pretty much up until lunch she had people willing to walk with her to classes, so she never had to look at the map again. It was a lot of correcting people about her name ‘its Bella’ she would say, sounding dead, probably looking unemotional as she could, blocking out her feelings about it. It made her miss James and her friends back home even more, they knew her name was Beau, and they didn’t question why she wanted to be called it. She didn’t even know why she preferred it, but she did.

As a child she had innocently asked her mother what her name would have been if she was born a boy, he mother had said ‘Beaufort’ even as a kid she thought that was a little much, she would tell people that was her name, including James when she first met him, it ended up getting shortened to just ‘Beau’ later on. However, her mother found out and scolded her for lying to people. Since then, Beau would only tell people she trusted her name. One of those people was James, and most of James’ friends.

Beau went to lunch being walked by another boy she had met during math named Mike Newton, he was an overly friendly, overly cheery type of guy, he insisted on walking her to other classes and lunch. He was sweet though, and Beau didn’t have the heart to tell him to ease off a little or leave her alone. She took out her phone and took a tray to grab her food. She saw a message from James and smiled.

‘Hey Beau, hope Forks rain didn’t melt you ~ any cute boys? Oh! by the way, I’m going to email you a link to an article I think you need to read. I really want you to be comfortable in that new school, and it might help you’

‘I’m not completely a witch, so I didn’t melt... yet. No cute boys yet but I promise to sneak pictures for you if I do see any. Though I think one of the guys that have been showing me around you would totally fall for, he’s the dork type, I think he plays some sort of sport here because he has a letterman jacket... you’re still into those types, right? I’ll check my email later and read the article. Better not be anything weird or I’ll take a flight out just to punch you. I’ll call you after I call mom tonight ~ miss you so fucking much xoxo’

Beau sighed as she sent it and put her phone back in her pocket before getting dragged away by Mike over to a table where Eric, Angela, Mike and another girl she had briefly met named Jessica sat. Beau couldn’t help but think about James trying to flirt with Mike and getting shot down, or maybe not... It's had only been a say since she left and she was already thinking about how much she just wanted to be at lunch with James poking fun at some of the people in her school. She sighed and grabbed a carrot stick as the people around her talking, and tried to ask her questions. Beau did her best to answer and not seem rude, they were all being so nice and she hated to just throw their kindness away. Her eyes flickered around the cafeteria taking in the type of people sitting together, they eventually landed on a group of pale, slightly older looking people, some of them looked like they would be more college-age then high school age.

“Hey... who are they?” she asked, making the group she was sitting with follow her gaze.

“those are the Cullens” Mike scowled a bit... Beau's eyes met Mikes for a moment before looking back to the Cullens.

“They all live together and their all dating, it’s like... totally weird but... the black hair pixie looking one is Alice” Jessica started explaining “and the one that looks like he’s in pain is Jasper, their an item the really buff, tall one is Emmett, and the blond one is Rosalie, they’re together” she said quietly.

Beau looked at all of them as she pointed them out, she tried not to make it obvious but that was kind of hard when they all looked breathtakingly beautiful, she had to stop herself from staring to long.

“Oh and that one coming in,” Jessica said her tone turning slightly sour “Is Edward Cullen, totally gorgeous, but don’t get your hopes up of asking him out... apparently, he’s too good for anyone in this school” she said.

Beau could guess that Jessica probably asked him out and got shot down, her eyes went to the male and she sucked in a breath. He had auburn hair, a chiseled jaw, everything about him -- like his sibling -- seemed absolutely perfect. She could have sworn she saw Edward laughing at the comment Jessica made, but she wasn’t sure. Beau quickly looked away and back to her ‘friends’.

“They all live with Dr.Cullen and his wife,” Angela said with a small smile.

“Dr.Cullen, by the way, is totally dreamy too, I wouldn’t mind if he adopted me,” Jessica said.

Angela giggled and Beau saw Mike roll his eyes out of the corner of her eye, she gave him a small smile, it was obvious Mike didn’t like the Cullen’s, though Beau couldn’t care enough to ask why. The conversation went back to asking Beau questions and giving half-assed answers in a return. Today was going to be long.

#Binding Of Beau #Binding Of Beau Chapter One #Chapter One #Twilight #Twilight Fanfiction #Edward Cullen #Beau Swan #Edward Cullen/Beau Swan #Edward Cullen x Beau Swan #Edward x Beau #Life and Death #life and death twilight #Trans Beau #Trans Beau Sawn #Life and Death fanfiction

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hashtagsmitty · 5 years

Text

Smitty's Thailand Adventure - Day 1

I'm inspired right now by Uncle Gilly's travel blogs. And since I'm in my hotel room at 11pm Thai time and nowhere near sleep despite being up for some ungodly number of hours, here we go!

Heading into this trip I was super anxious. I haven't gone overseas for 7 years, and I've never travelled alone before. It's not so bad since I'm hanging out with Josh the whole time, but it's still a bit weird. Plus, I don't speak a word of Thai. I'm sure that will be fine, but it's a bit iffy going in.

April and her mum drove me to the airport. We left early to make sure we'd get past any traffic. Plus, last time April and I went anywhere I fucked up the timing and we missed our flight. I guess that was on her mind? Long story short we were at the airport 3 hours early.

I got through security and check in fine. My passport photo is from when I was 21, with a baby face and bad hair. Some beefy security dude pulled me aside to scan my passport manually when the facial recognition shit didn't work. Slight monkas.

I got through fine, bought some Thai Baht and got jibbed on the exchange rate, and then went to the gate. I bought earbuds because I don't own any. It occurred to me later that I'd ordered the entertainment package on the plane which comes with them. It turned out being a good thing, because 3 hours is a long time to listen to airport sounds.

I walked around the terminal to get my bearings, then went to a café thing. It wasn't a real café, but it was close enough to make me comfortable. I got a steak, then sat down and started reading. I'm reading "Growth Mindset", a text about how the way you think about success and achievement is the biggest predictor for future successes and how you deal with failure. It's really interesting, lots of real-world examples, and I'm hyped to try to teach it to my new students.

The steak arrived. I asked for a steak knife and the poor waiter gave me the most embarrassed look. He went to check, then came back and said he wasn't allowed to hand out steak knives in the airport.

Thinking back, of course he wouldn't be, but in the moment it was a weird thing. I guess it felt too much like a real café?

2 hours left. I sat at the gate and read. I had pre-downloaded a whole bunch of Podcasts and music, too, so I was listening to music while I read and swapping to podcasts when I was bored. I kept checking the time because 2 hours is a goddamn long time to wait.

Eventually though the time ticked over and the JetStar dudes were calling for business class people. Before I could react, a whole bunch of vultures had lined up. Seriously like 100 people. I joined the line. They started calling for rows 44 to 57. I checked my ticket - row 57. I walked forward hesitantly, to see if I was allowed to cut the line and board. I pussied out and realized that I'd lost my place in line. I did a slow walk of shame to the back of the line. Then the Jetstar dude started walking down the line and calling for those rows. I cut the line and got on the plane. The dude checking tickets looked dead inside.

My seat was in the middle of the last row on the plane. Two old white dudes sat either side of me. Nobody spoke, as is appropriate. The dude to my right was a bit grumpy, and took up our entire overhead bin. I sat down after putting my bag away and started my music back up. While we were waiting for takeoff, I remembered my trip to Italy from when I was 16. I wasn't sitting next to anyone I knew for both of the 26 hour flights, but the in-flight entertainment had Pokemon Pinball, and I played the shit out of it. It sorta became a tradition when I fly, and I redownloaded the rom right before the plane took off.

It was good that I did, because the in-flight entertainment was garbage. I played chess, and the piece of shit computer played the same opening against me twice. The only difference between medium and hard was that it took 2 minutes to decide each move on hard. I played two games then quit.

The flight was boring. At the end, the pilot had to do some stupid holding pattern because the flight was early:

The green circle bit was repeated 5 times. It added like an hour to the flight. It sucked being so close and having to wait so long. Speaking of waiting so long, being at the very end of the plane meant waiting 10 minutes to get off, and then waiting longer while people only grabbed their bags once they were supposed to move. Monsters.

Disembarked, went through immigration with no problems. The dude who waved me through was being so slow with his line. I held my passport open to the photo page when I gave it to him and he closed it when he took it. Awkward.

Customs didn't exist. Just walked straight out.

I met up with Josh. He was on the opposite side of the airport to where I came out. There were stacks of dodgy WiFi networks to sort through to find the one non-dodgy one. I felt like having to fight through 12 phishing networks before I left the airport was a bit much.

Josh and I got Korean chicken at the airport. It was okay, I'm not big on chicken with sauces. Or sauces in general. Or most foods in general. But, I felt like I should just dive in and broaden my comfort zone a bit. It was pretty good chicken. I'm sure it would be better at a non-airport franchise.

We caught a taxi to my hotel. Josh is staying in an AirBNB somewhere else. On the way Josh talked a bit to the taxi driver. She didn't speak any English and he barely speaks Thai, but she got us to our destination fine. It really drove (dwoop) home how foreign this place is, and how screwed I'd be if not for Josh living here. The taxi driver was not great. She was driving in two lanes for most of the trip, and I don't think I heard her indicate. The traffic lights have a dank coloured countdown for how long until the lights change. We need that in Melbourne.

We got dropped off at a skytrain station. It was attached to a huge shopping center like Melbourne Central. It was pretty sweet - I'd like to check it out when I'm less fried.

The streets looked pretty low-tier, but Josh said that it was average for Thailand, and that the closer you are to main roads or train lines, the nicer it is.

I needed toothpaste, and Josh insisted I get a local SIM card, so we went into 7-11. Josh explained that they're actually really cheap and good quality here. While we were sorting out the SIM card, the clerk needed to see my passport and take a photo for me to be able to buy it. It was weird, but everyone acted like it was normal, so whatever. The same thing happened at the hotel. Josh said they send the info to the government, but didn't say why. The clerk called me handsome in Thai as we were leaving. We got some weird salt toothpaste that Josh swore by. He said the first time was meh but the second time is amazing.

I was warned that there would be "massage parlors" on the street my hotel is on. Josh said the girls out the front would go out of their way to make me uncomfortable, and double so if we ignored them. We just stayed in the other side of the road instead.

The hotel is okay. Bed isn't great, but there's air con and a hair dryer. And a bidet, which I'm excited to try.

It feels lonely up here on my own. Like I said, I haven't travelled solo before, so it's a new experience. Bros will get a video tour of the room when I'm awake - it's 4am AUS time and I'm so fried. Gotta avoid that jet lag though, so normal sleep times.

I tried the salt toothpaste. It was okay.

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 6 years

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things that are absorbing most of my frustrations right now because the bigger things (i.e. accelerating fascism /authoritarianism/general awfulness at home and abroad, cf. Italy deciding to kick out all their Roma residents except the actual citizens that they "unfortunately" have to let stay, and Hungary passing "stop Soros" laws to penalize organizations that aid migrants):

my hands have been doing that thing a lot lately where little spots on my fingers and palms get painful and red for no apparent reason, and it's probably related to one of my mild contact allergies, but I can't figure out any potential allergens (or...much of anything, really, aside from my phone and steering wheel) that touch only my hands and no other part of my body, AND I've been wearing thin cotton gloves a lot to protect my hands and cut down on the number of possible allergens I touch, so I have no idea what's causing it or why it's been worse lately and I don't know how to fix it OR prevent it

my basically-brand-new car that I got less than a year ago didn't have super great suspension in the first place, which I sort of didn't realize but also I was desperate to get a decent car at all, and lately it's definitely gotten worse (like, I take bumps pretty hard and I can feel the texture of the road whenever it's not perfectly smooth), which would be concerning even if it wasn't uncomfortable...and this morning when I came outside the driver's side window was rolled all the way down for no reason?? there was no indication that someone had gotten into it so I guess there's that, but if this is another car problem that needs fixing, that is...also concerning

the $25 pair of shoes I got not too much over a year ago are literally falling apart so obviously I need to replace them, and Fred Meyer is the best place to do that, but after spending almost two hours there last week I couldn't find anything that would work, and then I did find a pair at another Fred Meyer that I thought would work but now that I'm trying to wear them in the office, it turns out they make my feet hurt (and I can't tell if that's the sort of thing that might change with some breaking-in time or not), and I don't really know where to go for shoes other than Fred Meyer

ever since I upgraded to iOS 11.4, I've been having major issues with overheating and battery life, and I don't know what to do about it

I got a new pair of earbuds from Amazon that were supposed to be decent for blocking outside noise despite being pretty cheap, and actually they were more effective than my other earbuds, BUT they included a little microphone with a call button and only gave weird mono sound unless I held down or taped down the call button, so I figured out how to exchange them from Amazon, and GUESS WHAT the new pair has the exact same problem (which could mean the problem is user error but like...how much user error is possible with a simple set of earbuds??)

thanks to my library, I can get five free, legal mp3 downloads from Freegal (because...free and legal) each week, which isn't a lot at once but definitely adds up; the selection is spotty but it's broad enough that I've gotten a lot of good music there, including--eventually--full albums from artists like The Shins, Thea Gilmore, Earlimart, Hey Marseilles, MS MR, and Eisley. RECENT PROBLEM: some (but not all!) of these tracks apparently don't play nice with iTunes, even after updating iTunes, so now I have a bunch of tracks that cut off 20-30 seconds early in iTunes but only sometimes do the same thing on my iPod and are just fine when played on something like VLC. Redownloading the tracks doesn't help, and Freegal couldn't replicate the issue so they couldn't help. obviously this is a relatively small thing but it's pissing me off because I really like having this source of music and I don't understand the problem so I have no idea how to fix it.

I could significantly improve a lot of things about my life by a) getting enough sleep on a regular basis and b) finding a better purse solution that means I never, instead of only rarely, have to haul around the massive thing that definitely worsens my neck problems, but apparently I can't figure out a good way to do either of those things

my period is probably coming soon which I guess helps explain why my brain is full of yuck

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chaospenelope · 6 years

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Present Perfect.

The Pack

It was so very early as the alarm clock flicked on, playing a jarring tune. Neda jolted up with a gasp, her eyes wide open. She cursed herself when she noticed the clock, slamming the button in aggravation. Phineas glanced with a bit of concern, his fur ruffled in all different directions. His head just barely lifted from the pillow. She was a bit embarrassed after noticing this. She patted his head reassuringly and got up to get ready. She started to brush her teeth in the attached bathroom.

Her husband walked in moments later he stood next to her and started using the long mirror to comb his fur. Once they switched positions, both brushing fur and hair, they got dressed and went to wake the cubs. Neda opened the first door and disappeared inside. Robin had already brushed her teeth. Now she was looking something to wear. Phineas was walking down the hall when he noticed his son holding a small steaming cup in his hand. His fur was still a little damp. "You're up early." "Yeah, Lava wouldn't stop shaking me until I got out of bed." The Cub said as he took a sip. "There's a pot of coffee in the kitchen if you want any." "Where is Lavier now? Is she done getting ready?" He son pointed at the bathroom behind him and them walked away. "Alright, you want a braid or ponytail today?" Neda asked as she gently ran the brush through Robin's silky black hair. "I think I want pigtails today." She tried not to move her head as she looked through the hair clips. "What color?" Neda, meanwhile, was looking at the scrunchies, her hair brushing was second nature at this point. "Green? ...Light blue. Yeah, light blue." She said, deciding it was a better match to her black shirt, jeans, and jean jacket. She used some sapphire colored pins to put up her bangs as the rest was tied into two long pigtails. "It's not too tight, is it?" Robin shook her head up, down, and side to side to test it. "Nope, just fine." "Good." She patted her on the shoulder and got up to leave. "Mother Neda?" Robin looked up as she turned to her. "Thank you." "You're welcome dear." Neda smiled warmly and left the room. Robin got down from her bed and carefully pulled a box from her closet. It was nicely wrapped thanks to a little help. There was a nice blue ribbon tied on top and a sticker with Freddy's name on it. Since the children didn't exactly have enough money to buy all the presents they wanted William and Robert helped them with a secret Santa drawing. Robin got Frederick. She took a long time to think about what the best present for him would be. Sure she knew of things he probably wanted but getting him food or a cheap plastic microphone was a little too impersonal. Being a savvy saver she was she managed to get what she felt was a pretty good gift. She piled into the car with the others. Her box dwarfed compared to Nade's plain blue box with a bunch of those sticker ribbons tacked on. "Who did you get?" She asked. "Spring." He then added. "I'm not gonna lie, I was hoping for her. She's so easy to get presents for." "Chica isn't so hard either." Lavier placed her snow pattern gift bag with red crinkly paper on the floor board before hoisting herself up. "I was just going to buy her a book if I got her." "Did you?" "Nope." "C'mon guys, it's supposed to be a secret, remember?" Penny left her penguin paper wrapped box on her lap as she buckled her seat belt.

The restaurant was a couple of hours from opening. A week away from the big night everything was decorated with the shine and wonder of a winter fantasy. The chairs were taken off the tables and the lights turned on. It was alive despite the lack of customers with the chatter of excited children. "Tomorrow is gonna be so fun." Goldie spoke before going back to humming as she sat on the stage. She, Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica sat on the stage with their legs dangling off the edge. "I hope this year Foxy can convince his Papa to let him come with us." "Maybe...Man, things are going so fast. Feels like yesterday day was Birthday..." Bonnie couldn't help but feel a twinge of loss, of wastefulness. "What did we do these past three months?" "We had a lot of fun." Freddy answered, trying to cheer her up. "We went up to the river to find fish and found a bird that needed help. We built a leaf fort. We-." "We saw a bunch of shooting stars, we helped a family of crows buy a taco, and saw a parade of puppies." Goldie added. "And we almost fell through the ice and bloody froze to death because someone wanted to see if we could skate yet. Just feels fast since so many events are cluttered together. Speaking of which, how are we going to celebrate Penny's birthday if she's gone?" "Well, our Mama and Papa talked to their mama and papa and talked to Bonnie's papas and I think they talked to your mama and they all decided we can celebrate it a day after they get back." "Oh." Everyone perked up as the front door's entrance bell rang. The four cubs and two adults came in. "Hey, good morning!" FredBear looked up from the pamphlets. He brought the closest parent in for his infamous hug. "Glad we could make it. The cubs were really looking forward to it." Neda returned the hug earnestly. "Hello Bon, hello Plushy." "Nice of you to drop by before you leave town." BonBon stated in his own endearingly sarcastic tone. He smirked and waved as they greeted him. Plushy smiled at the children. "The presents go on the back table since Kit isn't here yet. Here, let me help you with it." "Okay!" "Thank you!" They put the gifts up and joined their friends. "Hey guys, what's up?" "Thinking about the stuff we did these past few months." "Like the time we accidentally broke a wild beaver's dam?" "I forgot all about that..." "What do you mean 'we'? You and Foxy are to blame for that one. I told you you shouldn't walk on the old dam. You're lucky you didn't break your legs off." Chica scolded. Lavier only rolled her eyes. Chica then relented, saying. "But, I suppose we wouldn't have found that bird if we hadn't went runnin for or our lives, so something good came out of it..." SpringBear looked out at the parking lot with her head resting on her paws. She immediately perked up. "Foxy's here!" Kit waved through the glass, his tail wagging excitedly as he ran to the door. He pushed it open with his dad a mile away. "Ahoy!" He cried, holding his fireplace paper wrapped present proudly. "I come with invaluable treasure!" He boasted. The others hopped down to greet him. "Kids, don't jump off the stage like that." Plushy warned after the fact. "Sorry Mama." "Sorry Mom." "It's alright, just don't do it again, alright?" "Yes ma'am." They spoke sincerely as they sat at the table with the presents they brought in front of them. "So, who goes first?" FredBear looked around as most of them cried 'Can I' or me please'. Robin remained quiet, looking at her present worryingly. "I think this calls for a game of draw straws." Neda took nine straws and cut them in varying sizes with her Swiss army knife keychain. With her back to them she put them in her hand and made the parts that stuck out even. She turned back around and held them out for them to get. Each took their turn picking and after. It was all said and done they compared. "So I go first then?" Chica handed over her small box wrapped in green paper, adorned with a gold ribbon. "Here Nade. I believe this is something you'll like." He looked it over for a minute and tried his best to carefully pull off the tape, but when it tore the paper anyway he just ripped it off quickly. "Hey," His face lit up as he realized what it was. He carefully peeled the tape off the figure's name. "Boris Karloff's Mummy funko? How'd ya know?" "It's simple, I just saw what you were missing in your collection and picked one." Phineas and Neda exchanged glances, thankful she hadn't gotten the other one. "Thanks Chica, I hope whoever got you got something good." "You're welcome Nade." She returned a sincere smile, proudly puffing out her chest as he examined his gift with the happiest expression. "Oh! It's my turn!" Lavier pushed her bag to Bonnie. "Hope you like it." "Love the paper." She smiled and plunged her hand in. She pushed the contents around. She seemed perplexed as her fingers touched onto more than one thing. "Oh. Cool." She looked over the doughnut earbuds. "I needed these." She placed it aside as she picked up two more things. "Nice." She smiled, they were both Mystery mini figures from the new game she was playing. After feeling the packs throughly she started pulling out the final thing. She held the shiny pikachu keychain like a gold bracelet. "I thought these were sold out. Thanks pal!" "Glad you liked them I wanted to get you something better but-." "These are perfect. What are you talking about?" She put her arms around her bounty and started to examine the mystery packages again. "Should I open these now?" "Yeah!" "I wanna see!" "Yar, let's dig into this mystery treasure!" "If you want." "Okay." She eagerly tore open the first one, not hesitating in unwrapping the cardboard around it. "Oh, cool! The clown Neighbor from the teaser." "Huh, He looks little like it." Neda observes from across the table. "He kinda does. Neat." Bonnie put him aside and opened the second. It was a normal one with binoculars. "You're lucky! I always get doubles." "Whoa, Dad, he's wearing the same clothes as you." "He must have great taste in fashion." "Wait, Bonnie, you forgot something." Lavier added. Bonnie, confused, put her hand back in the bag. Her eyes widened as she felt a shape wrapped in paper. She took it out and started to admire it. "Wow, it's me and my dads? Did you make these?" "Yeah...You like it?" "Are you kidding? I love them!" Bonnie spoke as she placed her things back in the bag except the the small clay figures. She was still looking them over. "Thanks Lava." "It be my turn to trade." Foxy declared, passing his box to Penny. "You got me?" She gave a small laugh. "I actually got you." She peeled the paper off tenderly. When she was done folded it and the ribbon and opened the box. She let the cloth unfold as she held it up. "I am definitely wearing this tomorrow." She admired the detailed graphic of a dragon looking at the moon. "Thanks Foxy, this is awesome." "It's so pretty!" "Wicked!" "You're welcome matie!" "Here Chica." Freddy gave her the white gift bag with purple crinkly paper. "A new collar for Cupcake? With little purple paw prints! Oh how lovely." She shook it a little to test the bell. She smiled at the sound of the cheery chime. "Thank you very much. Can't wait to show Mum and Cupcake." "You're welcome." Penelope silently and hopefully moved hers toward Foxy. She watched as he shredded the paper with little hesitation. "A ship, with me own crew?" The young fox smiled wildly. He flipped the box over and read all about the pirate construction set. "That's a lot of small pieces. I might be needing help from me maties..." "I'm glad you like it Foxy." She felt all those hours of dish washing and trash transporting was worth it. "Is my turn yet?" Goldie asked innocently. She looked at all the straws left to make sure. Then she gave her present. "Here Lava, this is for you." "Thanks." She paused, studying the odd shape the puppy in Santa hat was wrapping around. It was a box with a bulge in the middle. Then something hit her and she excitedly unpackaged it. "Alright! A new soccer ball! Oh, Can we play outside, please?" She hopped up in her seat. "Not right this second." Phineas spoke in a chuckle. "Maybe after we're all done exchanging presents." "Aw man, okay." She eased back down. The ball wedged between her and the table. "Alright, now it's my turn!" Bonnie looked over to Robin and slid her nice glittery paper wrapped, bow topped box to her. "Thank you." Robin retrieved it and, like her sister, carefully undid all the paper and bow. She gasped as she lifted the lid. "Soft little slippers!" She lifted the black slippers put her hands inside them. They both had a heart on the front. "I remember how much you liked mine, so I got you a pair." "Can't wait to put them on tonight." She kept her hands inside them as they rested on the table. "Nade, honey, it's your turn." The little bear's head rose up from his figure. "Me? Oh, right." He handed his present over. "Here Goldie." She looked the box over in excitement and pushed the box lid off. "Ooooh! I love her!" She reached in a pulled out her new stuffed doll and hugged them tightly. It was a black a white Shiba Inu with a detachable raincoat. "Thank you! Thank you thank you!" She ran over to hug him. "N-no problem Goldie...Please let go. I can't breathe." "Sorry." She said, still hugging her toy. "Robin. I think you're the only one Pumpkin." The red bear looked up from her slippers. She felt the worry build up again but quickly pushed it down. She hastily handed the present to Frederick. "Here Freddy. Hope it's alright." "Um, thank you." He took the box but seemed concerned. "Robin, are you okay?" "I'm fine, it's just, the present...I couldn't afford a new one so..." "Hm?" He looked back at the package. He carefully opened it but his curiosity begged him to rush. "Robin..." When he finally opened it he felt like he was going to cry. He stood up and hugged her. "Thanks a lot." "I'm glad you like it." She smiled, hugging him back. "You said you wanted one like your dad's but-." "It's perfect." He assured her. He took the black top hat and placed it on his head. His ears were just barely keeping it from swallowing him. "I love it Robin. This is the best present ever. I'll wear it all the time!" "Looks like you'll have to some growing first." Plushy giggled. She tried her best to adjust the hat, only succeeding in covering the entire top of his head. "Who turned out the lights?" He asked jokingly as he took it off. Everyone got a little chuckle out of that. They each compared and talked about their gifts. "Wait, before we forget." Goldie interrupted as the thought came to her. She ran to the table, got the last two presents and brought them over. "We got these for Alex and Sid, since hey couldn't be here." "Aw, thanks guys. They're gonna flip." Lavier looked over the gifts and then her own. "We still have still have some time before breakfast right? ...How about we break this bad boy in?" "Can we go in the back and play?" The little ones asked in varying degrees of politeness. The adults exchanged amused glances. "Don't see why not. Rob, Will, and Phil are out decorating the big tree. Play where they can see you. We'll let ya know when the cinnamon rolls are done." The little ones let out excited cheers as they carefully put away their new prizes, except Lavier, who was ready to start kicking hers around.

#The Pack fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #The Pack #Holiday season #freddy fazbear #golden freddy #bonnie bunny #chica chicken #foxy the pirate fox #Penelope NightShade #Robin NightShade #lavier NightShade #Nade NightShade #Neda NightShade

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