#who needs Jeremy anyway the contestants have got it covered

[taskmasterhistorian]

Matt Heath calls Paul Williams a good boy

TMNZ Series 2 Episode 1

#I’m going insane #guess who my new fav tmnz contestant is #I haven’t seen this series before so I am thoroughly impressed by this #who needs Jeremy anyway the contestants have got it covered #paul williams #taskmaster nz #tmnz S2

[writingsoftheunderworld]

Ok I’m so happy someone taking requests. It’s take place season two where Bonnie and Damon hate each other but there daughter comes from the future to help them fight Klaus but no one knows she’s there daughter. Thank you 😊

Hey! So glad too! I’m always up for some Bamon so it’s come at just the right time. Ok, so I’ve definitely done as requested, but I’m really enjoying this and would love to maybe turn it multi-chaptered so if there’s demand I might add onto this story, it was soo much fun. 

Anyways, @barkingbullfrog here you go! Hope you enjoy. Sadly the Bamon is not too romanc-y what with the setting though I went with later season two so they are at least reluctantly working together.

Damon propped his feet up on the arm of the loveseat he found himself laying down on, an air of nonchalance mere facade to the turmoil he was feeling inside. Elena and Stefan sat opposite him, poetic really, he thought, talking about what there was to do now that uncle John decided to fuck up again. He couldn’t understand how some people could be this stupid. Why would anyone trust Isobel was beyond him, the bitch had tricked him into turning her, had tricked Elena just a few months ago, had fucked up Alaric good and proper and had been working with Katherine. He listened to Stefan try to propose they use their house as a safe-house and Elena shoot it down immediately. Figures. Was there no one around who used their brain? 

There’s Bonnie, his mind helpfully supplied as he heard Elena wrack up another complaint. He answered this one, thoughts of the little witch in his head. He didn’t like having to revisit one of his greatest failures. Because he knows allowing Emily Bennett to burn could only be catalogued as nothing other than failure. And now Bonnie wanted to absorb all that power. Hence, she was definitely the intelligent one here. More power was exactly what they needed, not drama with bio-mom from hell. 

“To the Lockwood luncheon.” he heard Elena finish her sentence, followed closely by his brother’s knight in armour agreement.

“Not me, I’ve witch stuff to attend to with Bonnie” he quipped, watching Elena’s warm gaze shifting to him again. He also paid enough attention to Katherine lurking about just then. He knew she’d been listening to the whole conversation, she wasn’t subtle about it, which only served to annoy and baffle him. Why wasn’t Mistress of Bitchdom pretending to hide anymore? Oh well, question for another day perhaps, bigger fish to fry.

“Does that mean you’re taking her to the -” he shushed Elena before she could give them away, a stray thought of Bonnie would’ve known not to say anything worming its way into his mind, and he almost scoffed at himself. Since when was the witch at the front of his thoughts? But before he could dwell on that particular annoyance, Katherine saunters her way over and he hears footsteps outside in the walkway. He’s about to answer the she-demon when the front door’s lock turns and the door swings open suddenly. He’s up on his feet and with his hand around the uninvited visitor’s neck before Stefan even has the chance to get up and plant himself in front of Elena. Katherine of course does nothing, simply turns to stare at him and the young woman he’s holding against the wall, a mild shock flitting over her features almost too quick to see. He doesn’t get more than a few seconds before he finds himself doubled over in sudden pain, clutching his head as stars burst behind his eyelids. He almost thinks he’s misstepped and Bonnie herself was standing there, the wave of magic bringing him to his knees and the smell of blood so very similar to hers. Bennett blood for sure.

“Ack!” He cries out and waits for the ringing in his ears to subside, then he casts a customary glance around at his brother and his ex, surprised to see Katherine herself on her knees, still in apparently a lot of pain. Whoever the Bennett witch that just stepped inside their house like she owned it was, she didn’t stop until Katherine was unconscious on the ground.

“Sorry for the aggression, but I don’t respond to threats well and I really don’t like her.” a soft, but confident voice has Damon turning back to inspect the newcomer. She’s petite, in all senses of the word with her barely up to his shoulders height and lithe physique, but her own shoulders are squared and there’s an air of knowing all around her. He almost sees the Bennett witch they’re all too familiar with in her stead again. It’s disconcerting to say the least, especially with the very bright, and very blue, eyes staring at him with a small smirk. She’s cocky too, he realizes, and she’s certainly powerful enough to back it up if Katherine’s unconscious form on the ground like a sack of potatoes is anything to go by.

“And who exactly are you?” he readies himself for another aneurysm as he speaks, but to his surprise, her whole demeanor shifts suddenly upon looking back at him, if he didn’t know better he’d say she’s just… seen her favourite person. But it snaps back in place so quick he blinks to make sure he didn’t imagine it all.

“I’m Sheila-Rose Bennett.” She begins and he nods slowly, he’d already figured she’d be a Bennett, but how was it possible he didn’t know of her he couldn’t explain, it was strange. He might’ve not known how Lucy looked like when she showed up at the Masquerade a few weeks back, but he had remembered her father and her being born. He happened to have been near the hospital at the time, like he tried to be whenever a new Bennett was born. Hell, he still remembered Rudy, Bonnie’s dad, pacing in the small hospital hallway with Sheila there telling him to sit down and not wear the floor out when Abby was giving birth. He made good on his promises he thought, unlike Emily. “I’m here to help you with Klaus.” she continued.

He straightened out, pushing to his feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “And what exactly do you know of Klaus?” And how don’t I know you? His mind screamed at him. 

“I’ve had some … experience dealing with him” there was a smile on her lips, wry, as though laughing at an inside joke that only she was in on. The witch was odd.

“Ok, Sheila-Rose-” he began, but was cut off just as fast.

“It’s just Rose, only mom calls me Sheila-Rose, and that’s usually when I’m in trouble.” another one of those wry smiles. It was slowly making him lose his mind. There was something so very familiar to her that was frustrating him beyond reason.

“Sure, whatever. What can you tell us about Klaus?” He noted that Elena was shifting her weight from on foot to the other, impatient, when he remembered she needed to go. “Brother, why don’t you and Elena get to that luncheon, I’ve got Baby Blues here covered. Plus our very own Wicked Witch of the East is bound to show up in, oh, five minutes or so? I’ve got this.” Stefan and he shared a quick look and then baby brother was walking past him and the new Bennett, briefly breaking their staring contest, to pick up his coat and then he and Elena were out the door and driving away. Damon turned and poured himself some bourbon, taking a sip and letting it sooth the nagging pounding that always remained behind after that particular witch’s spell. The witch came fully inside the house now, bypassing Katherine’s body and laying herself in the same loveseat he’d previously occupied, swinging her legs up and over the arm of it, and lacing her fingers around her knees to keep herself upright, looking at him expectedly.

“Should I wait for … whoever you said was joining? Or should I just spill the beans right now?” she certainly had attitude, he thought, matching his tone to a T and he wasn’t sure whether he was impressed or annoyed by it.

“How do I not know you?” he couldn’t let that question go, and he also didn’t want Bonnie to know just how much he cared about her bloodline. She might actually burn him again if she did, he had a feeling. 

“You don’t know every one of us, we scattered too much to keep track, so let’s not poke through generations. I’m here for something else, not the past.” she smiled again, that same damn smile that was slowly making his skin itch. There was something there, she knew something she was hiding, something that was about him or regarded him at least. It was driving him insane, and still she wasn’t saying anything.

“Fine, keep your secrets. How old are you anyways, Witch-y?”

“I just turned 19. Why does it matter?” defensive. Fun! He can poke at that. 

“Kinda on the young side to be dealing with Big Bad Klaus, aren’t you?” he began and saw her wince. Double fun, he could really dig here. “How come mommy and daddy let you come here? Or do they not know?” he saw her shift in her seat and knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “Oh, so they don’t know then?”

“Not any of your business old man. I’m here and I’ve got info you guys will want, trust me on that.” 

“Old man? One, don’t nickname, two, so you’ve said but I’m not convinced. See, if you’re 19 then how come you know anything about Klaus?” 

“I know about him from my parents, they’ve fought him before. But haven’t been able to stop him. But they didn’t have the knowledge they do now, I have that and then some and I have you trying to fight him. I can help, that I promise.” She certainly was convincing, but Damon hadn’t survived so long and gone through the shit he had to just believe any nutso that strolled into his house. Just as he was about to answer her, Bonnie burst through the front door, Jeremy a few steps behind her, a flurry of righteous annoyance around her. He barely listened to her begin to berate him being late when he saw her gaze turning to their guest. 

Speaking of, the littlest witch suddenly swung her feet back to the floor, sitting up properly and a grin growing on her lips as she stood up, hand outstretched and introduced herself as though to her celebrity crush. God, why was everyone coo-coo in this town?

“Sheila-Rose Bennett! Very nice to meet you, know a lot about you, Bonnie.” She rushed through suddenly. To say that Bonnie was overwhelmed was an understatement. So he did the nice thing for once and patted the place next to him on the couch for Bonnie to take a seat. She did so in shock and even took a sip of his bourbon when he extended it to her, only to chock and sputter once the taste hit her. Small mercies seemed to exist after all, he figured when she didn’t do so much as glare at him, though with how she kept staring at the other Bennett he figured it had less to do with him and more to do with her.

“Now now, Rosie-Posie, let’s not overload Bon-bon here.” He was smirking as he spoke, looking from Bonnie to the newcomer when confusion hit him again at the genuine shock and delight on her face seemingly at his words. He was dying to know what could he have possibly said to warrant that look, but before he could, the woman began speaking in earnest. She hadn’t been lying, he realised quickly. She definitely had information they needed and power they could use, if Katherine’s still unconscious form on the ground was anything to go by.

Quick note, my head-canons about this are that:

- Sheila-Rose went behind her parents backs cuz she just wanted to help since she’s heard all about how Klaus hurt them, though she and Hope happen to get along pretty well and even Klaus and Bonnie and Damon are alright now. 

- Her dad calls her Rosie Posie. 

- While I see her as a daddy’s girl, she adores her mom with everything in her, like aspired to be her 

- The wry smile is her thinking about the future and amusing herself with the references. like the “dealt with klaus” thing or the “not here for the past” being very ironic to say the least.

#barkingbullfrog #bamon #bonnie/damon #Damon x Bonnie #Bonnie x Damon #ask #my asks #My writing #request #timetravel #time travel #future daughter #tvd 2x17 #tvd #vampire diaries #tvd fic #tvd drabble #bamon fic

[purrincess-chat]

How to Win a Guy in 30 Days CH3

I finally got around to doing this lol. Only one more chapter to go after this one. Onichan had me all kinds of salty, so I had Marinette and Kagami make up in this chapter because I’m fucking tired of their rivalry. Also Marinette’s dress in this chapter is this one from Jeremy’s insta.  

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

“So, you spent the day together on the beach, and that’s how you got together?” Emma leaned against the kitchen counter as Marinette prepared their sandwiches for lunch.

“No.” Emma flopped over with a groan.

“This story is like a million hours long!” Emma whined, and Marinette pursed her lips to hide her smirk.

“Try living through it,” she said pointedly. “Now, our little bonding moment on the beach didn’t go unnoticed, in fact, we made the front cover of a tabloid magazine a week later.”

- - -

“I’m sorry!”

Adrien wore an apologetic wince on the screen as Marinette stared down at the cover on her lap. The two of them sprawled out together at the beach, smiling, laughing. In the corner was a picture of him carrying her with a caption about their supposed secret relationship.

“I know it’s been going on to some extent since that day at the movies, but this is way worse,” he said with a sigh.

“No, no, it’s okay,” she insisted. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, but I still feel like I should apologize,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d hate to inconvenience you or have my fans send you hate mail or something.”

“I won’t take it personally. You’re my friend, Adrien, and it’s just some silly tabloid,” she waved it away, though she secretly planned to keep that cover forever.

“Okay, but please tell me if something like that happens,” he said, eyebrows furrowing, and Marinette offered him a soft smile.

“I will,” she promised, and he seemed to relax.

“How’s your ankle?”

“A lot better now. I can walk on it just fine,” she said, glancing down and wiggling it.

“I’m glad. I know it’s rough climbing the stairs with a hurt foot. One time my father had to have a room set up for me downstairs because I couldn’t make it all the way up to my room.”

“Papa had to carry me up for the first couple days. The real challenge was not falling again and making it worse,” she said, and they both shared a laugh. “Um, thanks for all of your help carrying my books and holding doors for me.”

“No problem. I know you’d do the same for me, so I was happy to help,” he assured her. “By the way, my father is hosting a branding gala at the Agreste foundation soon, and since your hat won his contest, I convinced him to invite you.”

“For real?” She gasped, eyes widening.

“It’s next week, but I figured you’d want time to plan your outfit. It’s formal attire,” he said, and she felt her heart leap. “I’ll deliver your proper invite tomorrow.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She bounced giddily, and Adrien chuckled.

“You’re welcome. Usually these things are boring, but it’ll be way more fun with you there.” Her cheeks flushed at that. “Anyway, I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah, see you,” she waved, falling back onto her chaise with a squeal the moment they hung up before surging forward again with a new sense of purpose.

She had work to do!

- - -

“Why didn’t you ask him to be your real boyfriend? You two got along so well,” Emma asked around a mouthful.

“Because it wasn’t the right time. Your father and I were great friends before we started dating, and that friendship was important,” Marinette said, holding up a finger. “Improving your relationship as friends only makes your romantic relationship stronger later.”

“I guess,” Emma rolled her eyes. “So, tell me about the gala! Did you make your own dress?”

“I didn’t make just any dress, my dear. I made the dress.”

- - -

“Whoa.” Her friends all stared at her in awe as Marinette situated her skirt.

“How do I look?” Marinette asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

“I know you want to capture his attention and all, but I think you’re going to kill him, girl,” Alya said, looking her up and down. “Seriously, you look stunning.”

“Yeah, the dress turned out awesome,” Alix echoed.

“You look so beautiful!”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed as her friends showered her with praise before her mother poked her head through the trap door.

“Ready to go, sweetie?”

“Go get him, girl,” Alya pulled her in for a hug followed by the rest of her friends, and Marinette took a deep breath before carefully making her way downstairs.

Her father teared up when he saw her, and Marinette bit back a smile. In a way, it made her a little self-conscious to have everyone staring at her, but everything was worth it the moment she arrived at the gala.

Adrien was chatting with Kagami which in most instances would have made her uneasy, but as soon as she walked through the door, Adrien stopped mid-sentence, eyes locked on her. Kagami turned to glare at her, but Marinette simply smiled and waved as Adrien approached her.

“You made it!” He grinned, exchanging kisses with her before examining her dress. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Yep! She beamed as he spun her around.

“You look incredible,” he said before perking up as an idea flashed in his head. “Let’s go show my father. I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother him,” Marinette curled her shoulders, feeling a bit embarrassed at the thought of Gabriel Agreste judging one of her designs. A hat was one thing, but she poured everything into this dress. She’d be crushed if he hated it.

“Don’t worry. He’s gonna love it,” Adrien assured her, offering an arm which she reluctantly took.

Marinette glanced around at the other well-to-do partygoers as they approached Nathalie, spotting Chloe and her mother across the room. Great. Now she had two people to dodge all evening.

“Nathalie,” Adrien tapped her shoulder, and his father’s assistant turned, a grey tablet in her hands. “Father, this is Marinette, the contest winner.”

“Yes, I remember,” Gabriel nodded. “Welcome to my gala.”

“Thank you, sir,” Marinette said politely.

“Marinette designed and made her dress tonight, and I wanted to show you,” Adrien nudged her forward as Gabriel flicked his gaze to her.

She smiled sheepishly, squirming a little as he studied her. His expression was so emotionless and hard to read, and she couldn’t tell what was running through his mind which only made her blood pump faster.

“Very fine work, Marinette,” he said finally. “We may very well be attending one of your galas in a few years.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Agreste,” she bowed, cheeks pink. “And thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A designer of your caliber will always have a place at my galas.”

Her heart shot up to her throat as Adrien bid him farewell and led her away. She wasn’t sure if her feet were even touching the ground anymore.

“See? Told you he’d be impressed,” Adrien said with a grin.

“I can’t feel my legs,” she sighed, clasping her hands over her heart, and Adrien chuckled in amusement.

“Come on, I’ll help you find them. Let’s go dance,” he took her hand and pulled her over to the dance floor.

Cold glares from Kagami and Chloe aside, she had to admit it felt pretty good to be in his arms, swaying in time with the music. Tonight was the best night of her life, although, her happiness was short-lived.

“I’m cutting in.”

Before Marinette could process, strong hands pulled her away from Adrien, spinning her away. When she righted herself, she turned to see Kagami in her place wearing a smug grin. Adrien seemed a little confused, but nonetheless surrendered his attention.

Feeling slightly annoyed, Marinette stormed off to the buffet where she grumpily stuffed her face with hor d’ouerves. Of course, she should have expected such retaliation; Kagami wasn’t one to take things lying down, especially when it came to Adrien. Though, she supposed she more than deserved it given some of her own stints of jealousy in the past, and she had caught his attention, even if only for a little while. Tonight was still a win in her book.

“Having fun, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

She suppressed an eye roll as she stuffed another mini quiche into her mouth and turned to see Chloe standing with a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face.

“I was until I had to witness your terrible makeup choices,” she grumbled.

“Ha-ha, but don’t think I didn’t notice you dancing with Adrien. Don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s going to fall in love with you over some ugly dress,” Chloe sneered. “You’re always going to be too low class for him no matter how much you dress yourself up.”

“We’ll see about that Chloe. Unlike you, Adrien isn’t such a stuck-up snob who worries about those things which is why you’ll never stand a chance with him,” Marinette said before turning and walking away, leaving Chloe fuming.

As annoying as Chloe could be, Marinette knew she was right about Adrien. He’d never fall for someone so shallow and full of herself, so really her only true rival for his affection was Kagami. The only problem with that was that Kagami was really good at getting her way, but tonight was the night when all of that changed.

“We need to talk,” Kagami grabbed her wrist and toted her off.

“About what?” Marinette grunted under Kagami’s steely grip.

“You are so shameless,” Kagami growled once they reached the foyer. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. You’re conspiring with Chloe again to get to Adrien.”

“Actually, I was just enjoying the desserts,” Marinette held up a macaron.

“Don’t play innocent,” Kagami slapped it from her hand as she went to take a bite. “I know you’re working against me. Your sprained ankle at the beach that you milked for a week to keep Adrien’s attention, and now you show up here in a big pink dress just to steal him away from me. What did I ever do to you?”

“What did I ever do to you?” Marinette shot back. “What? You think I wanted to sprain my ankle? Ever since you moved here you’ve always been cold to me, and any time that I so much as look at Adrien, you cling to him and glare at me.”

“I only do that because of how much attention he pays you!” Kagami shouted, and Marinette stepped back a little, eyebrows raising.

“What?” Marinette blinked, and Kagami turned away purposefully.

“Ever since I met him, Adrien has spoken so highly of you. He always insists that you’re just friends, but I can tell he has feelings for you,” Kagami explained. “So when he asked me on a date, I was so excited because I thought that he liked me, but then I show up and you’re there. I tried not to let it get to me, but he kept looking at you and then he just left me for you. He asked me on a date then spent the whole time chasing you. How do you think that made me feel? You’re always stealing him out from underneath me.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said, and Kagami rolled her eyes. “No, really. I am. I like Adrien, but I didn’t go on that date to steal him. Adrien told me that he liked you, but he was nervous to be alone with you, so I went to support him.”

“He doesn’t like me enough, apparently,” Kagami grumbled. “Every time you fall down, he comes running. He never even looks back at me.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way. All this time I’ve been worried about losing him to you because you’re so confident and strong and pretty,” Marinette said, and Kagami’s cheeks flushed. “I wish I was more like you. I can’t even get my words right around him half the time.”

“I am pretty amazing,” she nodded with a smirk. “But sometimes I wish that I could be soft and cute like you. Boys like that. Adrien is the first boy that’s ever asked me out. The rest are all too afraid.”

“Maybe instead of fighting with each other, we should be helping each other,” Marinette suggested. “You can teach me to be more confident, and I can help you loosen up.”

“What about Adrien?” Kagami quirked a brow.

“I already decided once that I’d be okay if he ends up with you. I just want him to be happy, don’t you?” Marinette asked, and Kagami shifted her weight. “Let’s call a truce, and let Adrien decide what he wants.”

Marinette held out a hand, and Kagami eyed it a moment before bowing.

“I accept your truce, and if you will offer it, your friendship,” she said, and a smile curled on Marinette’s lips.

“Of course.”

Slow applause sounded from the corner of the room, and they turned to see Chloe approaching with a smirk.

“Very moving, you two, but this is exactly the reason neither of you are going to end up with Adrien,” Chloe said, examining her nails.

“What because you think he’s going to pick you?” Marinette quirked a brow. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s always running away from you.”

“Adrikins and I go way back. No one knows him better than I do,” she bragged, rolling her eyes.

“What’s his favorite color?” Marinette asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“Red,” Chloe said as if it were obvious.

“According to his latest interview in Vogue, his favorite color is blue,” Marinette shook her head, and Chloe bristled.

“Marinette is right. You are not a threat to us,” Kagami said coldly. “You’re nothing more than a self-absorbed brat who only cares about boosting her own place in life.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to end up poor and sad like Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe grunted, and Kagami stalked forward and grabbed her by the necklace.

“If you ever say so much as one thing to her ever again, I will rip every hair from your head, do you understand me?” She growled. “Now, get out of my sight.”

Chloe’s eyes widened with fear as Kagami released her hold and turned to stalk back to the main room, taking Marinette’s arm. They only made it a few steps before Marinette jerked backwards, and the foyer echoed with a rip. They spun around to see Chloe wearing a wicked grin with her food on the end of Marinette’s skirt.

“You pathetic, disgusting wench!” Kagami shouted as Marinette gathered up her skirt, tears welling in her eyes.

“This is what happens when talentless people try to play designer,” Chloe said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll never be worthy of Adrien. Stop kidding yourself.”

Kagami glared as she turned and strutted off before turning to Marinette.

“It’s ruined!” She hiccupped, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What a brat,” Kagami spat, assessing the damage. It was bad. The skirt had separated from the bodice in a long tear that Marinette held together to keep from exposing herself.

“Maybe she’s right,” Marinette said. “Maybe I’m not worthy of Adrien.”

“Don’t listen to her. She’s the human embodiment of trash,” Kagami said, attempting to reach out to her, but Marinette brushed her off.

“Tell Adrien I’m sorry. I’m gonna go sit in the bathroom and wait for my mom,” she said dejectedly before slowly limping off.

Kagami watched her go with a wince before pressing her lips together and rushing out into the ballroom.

“Adrien,” she said, taking his arm. “Marinette needs help.”

“What happened?” He sobered, spine straightening.

“Chloe ripped her dress. She’s hiding in the bathroom,” Kagami said, and he patted her shoulders.

“Thanks, Kagami,” he nodded before rushing off.

Kagami felt a twinge of longing watching him run after Marinette yet again. Adrien was so considerate and concerned for his friends; it really was admirable. As much as she loved him, part of her feared that he would never truly love her in return. He’d always be chasing Marinette, and it tore her heart in two. She was the best at everything she put her mind to, but yet when it came to love, she always seemed to be in second place with no way to earn first.

She wasn’t used to settling, and she didn’t like it. It made her feel worthless and hurt, and part of her wondered if it was worth the pain. She deserved the best, and Adrien was the best she’d found, but if he didn’t love her then was he really worth fighting for? She wasn’t sure he was.

“Marinette?” Adrien knocked frantically on the bathroom door, and the girl inside jumped in surprise. “It’s Adrien. Open up.”

“I can’t,” she replied with a sniffle.

“Kagami told me what happened. I want to help you,” he said, and she turned the ripped fabric over in her hands. “Please?”

Slowly, she stood up, bunching the fabric to cover herself carefully before opening the door. Adrien surveyed her tear-stained cheeks and sullen expression with a frown before flicking his gaze to the wad of ruffles in her hand.

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I know you worked really hard on this,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “I’ve always known that Chloe is mean, but this crosses a line.”

“She’s always been like this to me, ever since we were little. She always does the worst to me, putting gum in my hair, spilling things on my new dresses, ruining my projects…” Marinette averted her gaze and shifted her weight.

“What can I do to help?” Adrien asked, green eyes searching hers pleadingly.

“Invent a way to make Chloe a better person,” she grunted, shifting her gaze to the tear. “I think I should just go home.”

“What? No!” Adrien stepped into her path, placing a hand on her waist.

“Adrien, my dress is ruined. I can’t go back out there like this,” she lifted her shoulders and nodded to the tear.

“I’ll help you fix it,” he insisted.

“How? I don’t suppose you have a sewing machine hiding in your coat,” she retorted, and Adrien pursed his lips in thought.

“Come with me,” he said, taking her other hand and leading her to the elevator. “The Agreste foundation headquarters does a lot of work making clothes and blankets for third world countries. There’s probably a sewing machine in one of the offices upstairs.”

“Is it really okay for us to do this?” Marinette curled her shoulders as he pulled her through the doors and hit a button.

“This is the Agreste foundation, and my name is Adrien Agreste. I’ll take the blame if we get in trouble,” he winked, and a small smile curled on her lips.

“Thank you, Adrien.”

When the elevator opened, Adrien led her down the hall, peeking into each room until they finally found what they were looking for. Adrien found a long trench coat in a nearby closet and politely turned his back while she changed. She set to work loading the thread, and Adrien watched her work with a content smile. It was fun to see her focus so hard. Cute, even.

When she finally finished, she held the dress up with a smile before hugging it to her chest, and Adrien left her to change once more. She examined herself in the mirror, swaying side to side to ensure that the damage was fully repaired. She’d have to remember to thank Kagami for if she hadn’t alerted Adrien, she’d probably be crying on the way home right now. Even after everything she was willing to forgive Marinette and help her. She could see why Adrien liked her. She was surprising soft under her harsh exterior.

“You can’t even tell it was ripped,” Adrien remarked, strolling back in with his hands in his pockets. “I really am sorry about Chloe. I’ll talk to her.”

“I know perfectly well what Chloe is like,” Marinette rolled her eyes. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You did most of the work. I just brought you up here and watched,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You really are talented.”

Her cheeks flushed at that.

“Shall we go back to the party?” She asked, and Adrien pursed his lips, rocking back on his heels.

“Actually, I was thinking we could hang out up here for a while. We got interrupted while we were dancing earlier, and I was kind of hoping to pick up where we left off…” He flicked his gaze up to hers. “If you want.”

Marinette’s heart skipped as she gave a small nod, and Adrien pulled out his phone, setting it on a table as soft music emanated from the speaker. He pulled her in close, and she rested her head on his shoulder as they began to dance. Being so close to him, swaying slowly in his arms, making up with Kagami…Tonight really was the best night after all.

#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #adrinetteapril2019 #my writing

[iamchikara]

Results for Egg Monsters From Mars under the cut.

Match #1: Singles Contest Blanche Babish vs. The Whisper I don’t have much detail for this, as the source I usually rely on to provide further details forgot the show was on ‘til the second match. Bad lildude! Twitter livetweet crowd says good opener, though, and Blanche tapped out Whisper with the Soda Jerk. I have to wonder what’s up with Whisper lately, it really seems to have all gone downhill for him since Ophidian thrashed him. WINNER: Blanche Babish (1 point) Match #2: Atomicos Contest The Beast Warriors and Crummels/DeFarge vs. The Closers and the Legion of Rot C&D are using hand sanitizer now! For some reason, that just gives me the shivers. Midway through this one, DeFarge went to attack Rick Roland but instead pulled that big wad of cash C&D had been given previously by the Closers out of his pocket before promptly turning on the Beast Warriors. I can’t even be angry about that, more tag feuds (and by association, more tag matches on the shows) are something I wanted after all. So everyone beat up the Beast Warriors after that and we got a No Contest because of it. NO CONTEST Match #3: Singles Contest Mark Angelosetti (2 points) vs. David Starr (DEBUT) The Throwbacks really seem to have become the catch-all opponents for guests lately. That’s not a bad thing by any means. We always seem to get something good out of Dasher and/or Touchdown, and according to what I’ve heard, this was no different as both Touchdown and Starr went all-out against each other. The Twitter livetweet crowd gave it a big thumbs up. However, it was Touchdown that came away with the win and the third point. WINNER: Mark Angelosetti (3 points) INTERMISSION #1 Match #4: Trios Contest The Proteus Wheel w/Professor Nicodemus vs. Lucas Calhoun, Jeremy Leary, and Brett Michael David The Twitter feed for #EMFM went absolutely ape at this point of the show. From what they’ve said, this one was ridiculously wild, with people flying everywhere and Callux stopping a Swanton Bomb by WALKING INTO IT. What. Just what. I’m going to need a gif of that, I’ll put it up everywhere. Anyways, the Proteus Wheel have proved unstoppable at their full strength in the past, and this was no different, as they were able to put away the Clone Coalition convincingly, with BMD taking upwards of a dozen powerbombs in a row which is just nuts. So in Trios they’re strong as heck, but separately they’re beatable. Divide and conquer, Clone boys and anyone who has to come up against them in KoT. Divide and conquer, or else the Wheel’s gonna take it all this year. WINNERS: The Proteus Wheel Match #5: Singles Contest Razerhawk (1 point) vs. Icarus (2 point) New music for Icarus and a loooooooooong entrance. At one point he went over to the concession stand for another bottle of water. There was a “hydrate” chant. Lot of trash talking from Ick, who didn’t seem to be taking a fired up Razer seriously. Razer put his foot on the ropes after a Shiranui to keep from being pinned, so Ick hit a second one before dragging him out to the middle of the ring...and pulling out the lazy cover. Not one to be underestimated, Razer took advantage of Ick’s spot of laziness, turned it into a crucifix pin, and scored one heck of an upset. Post-match, Razer was attacked by an angry Ick, who laid him out. Ick honestly should be more angry at himself for not taking this match seriously! WINNER: Razerhawk (2 points), Icarus is out of the standings Match #6: Atomicos Contest Princess Kimberlee, Los Ice Creams, and Kikutaro vs. Travis Huckabee, Merlok, Hermit Crab, and Cajun Crawdad We had a substitution, as Merlok stepped in for the absent Tony Deppen. Comedy everywhere, announcers cracking up, Twitter livetweeters cracking up. A good time for all involved, by the sounds. Even a Kim/Merlok confrontation in there, I’m sure Oceanea gave her enforcer strict orders there. Kikutaro picked up what might be the second shocking upset of the night, pinning Huckabee after a Shining Wizard. F.I.S.T. 2.0 did not fare well at all today. Post-match, Kim announced her withdrawal from King of Trios, as she will be headed over to Japan to participate in STARDOM’s Five Star Grand Prix tournament, and selected Kikutaro to replace her. As they were leaving, Whisper appeared, stopping LIC from leaving with Kim. I was hoping there’d be something involving Whisper/Kim, that was a big dangling plot point from Season Seventeen that needed to be addressed. Maybe there’ll be a little exposée ala MAM’s diary in the future? WINNERS: Princess Kimberlee, Los Ice Creams, and Kikutaro INTERMISSION #2. Hearing that the newly tried idea of short intermissions wasn’t accepted too well, as it didn’t give people enough time to be able to talk to the wrestlers, among other things. Match #7: MAIN EVENT Grand Championship Defense #13 *sigh* Juan Francisco de Coronado vs. Solo Darling Both the live crowd and the Twitter livestreamers were all over Solo, to the point of dueling chants for her. Not many get that kind of treatment in wrestling as a whole. There was even a dueling chant between most of the live crowd and potentially the only JFDC supporter in the building: “No one likes you!” “Yes I do!” It even switched to “One guy likes you!” at the end, very nice touch. Livetweeters say this was a strong main, with Solo wrestling what some called the match of her life. Lots of legwork from both, and JFDC’s usual shenanigans. Unfortunately, continuing the depressing pattern which has upset quite a lot of people (not just me, check out the disappointed/upset/annoyed/utterly heartbroken reactions in the #EMFM tag on Twitter), JFDC retained, with Solo passing out in the Coronado Clutch after the SharpStinger was reversed. We can only hope Huckabee (fulfilling his destiny of becoming the Grand Champion) or Touchdown (vanquishing a long-time rival) can end this seemingly never-ending reign. It’s been over a year, after all. About time it finally comes to a close. WINNER: *sigh* Juan Francisco de Coronado

#CHIKARA #Egg Monsters From Mars #Results

[redvsvblue]

For @achievementtooth! Merry Christmas! 

(Some SFW, non-shippy FAHC, Ryan-centric.) 

Ryan glares bitterly at the people shooting him sharp, judgmental glances, stuffing his hands further in his jacket and ducking his head to avoid attracting any attention. He doesn’t want the cops on him now.

He must look quite a sight, he thinks – the remnants of face paint still smeared around his hairline and under his eyes, blood dripping steadily from his busted lip and a bruise blossoming over his jaw, aching dully with each step. He’s shoved his hands as deep as he can in his leather jacket but the cold still seeps through him, drying the blood on his chin and breezing up the back of his shirt.

Ryan huffs irritably as he slips into an alley – a shortcut – scanning the dim surroundings as he stomps down the trash-riddled path. His phone buzzes in his jeans – probably one of the others letting the rest know they’re safe. Ryan doesn’t check it, and no more buzzes follow, so it’s not likely to be bad news; it’d be vibrating right out of the pocket if it was.

Ryan supposes he should consider himself fortunate for escaping without the cops – heists go sideways all the time, but at least this time he’s not running. Still, it’s cold and all he wants to do is get home and not worry about the crew for at least a few hours.

A tiny rustling in a back doorway draws his attention. He glances halfly at the darkness pooled under the frame and keeps walking and – and stops dead in his tracks when a tiny, quiet mewl sounds from the doorway. He sighs. Drops his head. Looks over at the black ears poking out of a crumpled newspaper, the green eyes studying him curiously.

He can’t leave it out here.

“Okay,” he sighs, mostly to himself, and turns to slowly crouch in front of the cat, taking out his hands to show he’s harmless.

The cat blinks at him. He extends his fingers and stays very very still, watching as the cat steps out of its newspaper home to carefully sniff his hand. When it butts its head against his knuckles, a quiet chuckle slips out of him and he gently pets its matted fur, eyeing it up for any obvious injuries. There’s no collar. He gently rubs a thumb over its neck – no bump of a microchip, either.

It’s thin, too, black fur matted down over the faintest outline of ribs, and Ryan switches to stroking along its back, eyes drifting up to its tail, bent in the middle at an unnatural angle.

“You’re a stray, aren’t you?” He murmurs. The cat meows and wanders closer, a little unsteady on its feet. Ryan sighs again and carefully lifts the cat up, cradling it in his elbow as it jerks and tries to escape – when it realises what’s happening, it calms down again, burrowing against Ryan’s jacket and trying to bite him when he pets for too long.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, playfully stroking its ear. He cocks his head at it. “You seem like a Maisie.”

The cat tries to bite him again.

“Not Maisie, then,” Ryan laughs as he continues down the alley, keeping the cat close to him as the wind rips through them. “Polly?”

A hiss.

“Midnight?”

Another hiss.

-- 

Ryan bends down to release the cat into his flat before stepping in and locking the door, toeing off his shoes as Violet wanders curiously away, sniffing his hallway and the guns leaning against the wall.

“No, no, get away from that,” he scolds, gently nudging her hind legs with his socked foot on his way to the kitchen – he glances back to see Violet following him, her eyes intent on his ankles.

Ryan strips off his jacket on the way and hangs it up on a hook – he’ll have to scrub the dirt off it later, but that’s for later. Right now, though, he heads to the cupboard under the sink and pulls out the food bowls he keeps in there – the last one to use them was Edgar, the bulldog he adopted off the streets a few months ago and gave to a nice family just down the road.

Ryan finds the cat food – leftover from Kenny, the previous kitten he sheltered – and pours some out for Violet, fills the water bowl and leaves her to entertain herself while he goes to shower and bandage himself up.

-- 

Later finds Ryan in a staring contest with Violet on the sofa, his bowl of Cheerios forgotten in his hand as he reaches out to pet her, her broken tail flicking against the cushion.

“S’ppose I’m keeping you, then,” he says, breaking the eye contact to swallows down another spoonful of milky Cheerios, gently encouraging Violet to come sit next to him. He’ll have to go to the vet tomorrow – he sighs and shakes his head, stroking a hand down Violet’s back as she curls up.

“Takin’ all my free time, aren’t you?”

-- 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Ryan says, pressing the phone to his ear as Violet winds around his ankles, meowing loudly for the food he hasn’t managed to put down yet because of Geoff.

“You sure? Don’t hide another damn broken rib from me, Ryan - “

“Yeah, I’m fine, Geoff. Just a little beat up.”

“Okay. Because we, uh, need a little help with clean-up, if you can come by tomorrow.”

“Clean-up?” Ryan asks dryly, clumsily resealing the bag of food and glancing down at Violet, who starts up another round of loud meowing.

“Yeah, I – is that a cat I hear?”

“No,” Ryan says immediately, setting down the food bowl and backing away the moment Violet leaves his ankles alone. “I’m – outside.”

“Outside? You’re supposed to be laying low.”

“I am!”

“I better not see any damn news stories about the Vagabond, Haywood. Come by tomorrow, noon.”

“You got it, boss.”

Ryan breathes a sigh of relief when he hangs up, slipping the phone into his pocket and touching the tender skin of his jaw while he watches Violet munch away on her breakfast.

“I’ve got a reputation to keep,” he says to her, narrowing his eyes. “You better not fuck it up.”

Violet’s bandaged tail twitches.

-- 

“What’s that? You’re all cut up,” Gavin says, peering curiously at Ryan’s forearm – Ryan grunts and rolls his sleeve down more, pulling it down to his wrist to cover the scratches. Violet hadn’t appreciated the bath he gave her last night.

“Nothing,” he bites out, shooting Gavin a glare. Gavin shrinks back a little, but he’s lost the petrifying fear he had of Ryan when they first met, and sometimes Ryan misses being able to just scare him away with a look.

“Y’should cover those up,” Gavin says. “Keep ‘em clean an’ all.”

“And you should mind your own business,” Ryan says.

Before Gavin can reply, Geoff claps his hands, staring down the room until they all settle down and look at him, standing at the head of the table.

“Warehouse. We need it gone,” Geoff announces, dramatically flipping the whiteboard over to reveal a poorly drawn stick figure plan. “Gavin, Jeremy, you’re taking the inside.”

He swivels to point to Ryan.

“Michael and you are taking the outside,” he says. “Get the cars and whatever crates they’ve got out back. I want it all in smithereens, you got me?”

“Loud and clear,” Michael says.

-- 

“What if someone was caught because the cops found their fingerprints in the person they killed the night before?” Michael asks. Ryan cuts him a questioning glance.

“Inside?”

“Yeah, like, if they fingered someone and then killed them, could the cops see the fingerprints?”

Ryan frowns at him and Michael shrugs.

“Gavin asked it last night,” he explains. “He wanted your opinion.”

“I think there’s too much – movement of – fluids and whatever for them to stay there,” Jack says over the crackly comms, the chopper blades whirring in his background. “Ew.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees, crouch-walking to the next car to wire it up to blow.

“Okay, what if they fingered their ass or something and they didn’t take a shit or anything before they died.”

“Don’t you empty your bowels when you die?”

“Yeah, you do,” Ryan replies calmly.

“Isn’t there a way to do it anyway?” Michael asks. “Some fuckin’ - nerve or something that makes you shit yourself?”

Jack laughs brightly over the comms and Ryan merely blinks at his hands, dumbstruck for a moment.

“Like Geoff does?” Jack chuckles.

“Yeah, but we’re not – pinching his nerves,” Michael says. “He’s just a shit machine.”

“I mean, if you ask him we’re probably pinching his nerves,” Ryan mutters.

“Could we get the shit nerve, though? Where even is that?” Michael asks, planting a bomb on a car window.

“I’m pretty sure it’s in the intenstines, right?” Jack offers.

“Yeah, base of them,” Ryan says. “It’d be messy to get to it, but we could do it. Just have to cut him open first.”

“Jesus, Ryan,” Jack gasps – Ryan shrugs and fixes his mask before taking out another batch of bombs from his bag.

“You asked,” he says simply. “You’d either go in from the front or from the back; it wouldn’t be clean in any way - “

“God, you’re so fuckin’ creepy sometimes,” Michael says.

-- 

“Man, I wish Gavin would hurry the fuck up,” Michael grumbles, popping his collar up to protect himself from the chilly breeze sweeping Los Santos. He glances at Ryan again. “You can go inside, you know.”

Ryan glances up at his building – they’ve walked there from a quick dinner together, and now Michael’s just waiting to be picked up.

“Nah,” he says, rolling his shoulders in an easy shrug. “Someone needs to make sure you won’t kill Gavin.”

Michael chuckles good-naturedly and looks at the street, scanning it for any sign of that dastardly purple Blista.

“Take any longer and I might fuckin’ kill hi - “ Barking interrupts them, abruptly dragging their attention to the dog barking at Ryan, a bulldog pulling on its leash and the kindly lady walking him over to them.

“Ryan!” She says, opening her arms for a hug which Ryan gives with an easy smile and a warm laugh, crouching to pet Edgar as well. Michael gives him a bemused look and eyes the lady up.

“How are you, Ms. Edwards?” Ryan asks, growling playfully back at Edgar before pushing himself up to stand, tugging his jacket closed again.

“Call me Jane, how many times have I told you?” Jane scolds gently, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “I saw your latest stunt on TV, you know,” she continues in a conspiratorial whisper. “That was quite a close one, that was.”

“Ryan?” Michael asks, shooting puzzled looks between them.  

“Uh, this is Jane,” Ryan says, awkwardly gesturing between them. “Jane, this is - “

“Oh, yes, you’re the feisty one!” Jane declares. “Mogar, is it?”

“Michael,” Ryan cuts in. “His name’s Michael.”

“Michael! What a nice name,” Jane says – Michael shoots Ryan a glare and Ryan shakes his head. “Yes, you nearly got caught up in that great big explosion, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Michael says slowly, smiling politely. Edgar barks again and Jane shushes him with a quiet down, Edgar as Ryan leans down to scritch behind his ears.

“So, uh, how do you two know each other?” Michael asks.

“She lives down the hall from me,” Ryan says.

“Yes, and he was sweet enough to give Edgar to me,” Jane says, smiling down at Ryan and Edgar.

“Give him to you? Ryan, I didn’t know you had pets,” Michael teases.

“Oh, no, he took him in as a stray,” Jane corrects. “Got him all healthy again and gave it to me.”

“Oh?” Michael asks, smirking at Ryan.

“He was almost roadkill,” Ryan says in his defence, rising to talk to them at eye-level again.

“Back in my day, he would have just been turned over to the pound,” Jane says, tutting to herself. She catches sight of something and gasps quietly, reaching out to finger a hole in the shoulder Ryan’s jacket.

“Oh, let me sew that up,” she says, running her thumb over the fraying edges with a frown.

“It’s okay - “ Ryan starts to protest, but Jane clicks her tongue and shakes his head.

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just like you, remember? I know how to fix bullet holes.”

“You really don’t have to - “

“I insist,” she insists. Ryan sighs and nods and glances down at the bulldog nudging against his leg – Edgar’s gotten bigger since he’s last seen him, rounder around the ribs and hips, so far from the starving, half-dead creature Ryan found on the road all those months ago. Jane turns to Michael and lays a bold hand on his arm – Michael jerks but doesn’t shake her off, and Ryan struggles to hold back his smile as Jane starts speaking in a low, secretive voice.

“See, now that I’m – retired from that lifestyle,” she says, patting Michael’s arm, “I’ve got plenty of time for pets and chatting to nice young men on the street.”

Michael goes pink and Ryan stifles a laugh.

“I, uh, I - “ Michael starts, flustered and out of his depth and Ryan’s never been more satisfied to see him so caught off-guard. “Lifestyle?”

“Oh, yes, I used to be a criminal, too,” Jane says, matter-of-factly. “Young and spry. Dealt drugs over the border. Lucrative trade, drugs.” She curls her fingers around Michael’s arm and leans in and Michael’s helpless to it, eyes widening ever-so-slightly.

The squeal of wheels saves him from whatever Jane was going to say next and Michael abruptly breaks apart to see the Blista screeching to a stop by the curb, Gavin grinning and waving at them from behind the wheel.

“Oh, that’s my ride,” Michael says, gently pulling his arm from Jane’s grip to wave back. “I should go. See you tomorrow, Ryan?”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees, flashing Gavin a little wave as well.

“Well, I’d sure love to see you around more,” Jane says, and taps a finger to her lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell any of your secrets.”

“Thanks,” Michael says with a little laugh. “It was – nice meeting you, Jane.”

“And the same to you,” she says. “Now go, off to go stir up some trouble,” she adds, making a little shooing motion with her hands that makes Michael laugh before he jogs to the Blista.

“You’re terrible,” Ryan says, waving the little car off as it speeds away.

“Mhm,” Jane agrees, and opens her palm in front of Ryan. “You want to crack it?”

Ryan looks down to see – a fortune cookie – Michael’s fortune cookie, sitting pretty in her palm, the plastic wrapper crumpled and shiny.

“You little thief,” he chuckles, plucking it from her palm to tear it open.

“Mhm,” Jane agrees again, giving him a sly, mirthful little glance as he cracks the cookie. Edgar barks at them.

-- 

Knocking wakes Ryan up from his accidental nap – Violet startles on his chest and snaps her claws out reflexively and they sink right into his skin. He hisses and nudges her off and she leaps to the floor before scampering away to hide somewhere – probably the kitchen, like last time, or maybe his bedroom. Ryan rubs his eyes and groans, muttering obscenities under his breath as the knocking continues.

It must be his crew. There’s no one else who would knock so persistently at – Ryan checks the clock – at two in the morning.

“Coming!” He shouts irritably, shoving on some shoes and grabbing a gun in case it’s an emergency. He doubts it, though. Emergencies tend to have a way of just busting in somewhere, not knocking and waiting.

It’s Jeremy on the other side, dressed head-to-toe in an uncharacteristic black that makes Ryan frown as he opens the door, leaning against the frame as he crosses his arms.

“What,” he asks flatly. Jeremy, cheerful, optimistic Jeremy, just grins and shoots him a finger gun. Ryan raises an unimpressed eyebrow at it.

“Need to talk to ya,” Jeremy says, gesturing to Ryan’s flat. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Ryan says.

“Well I can’t do it out here,” Jeremy says. “Unless you wanna come with me?”

Ryan considers it for a moment, turning the thought over in his mind, but he needs to change Violet’s bandages in an hour and he has no idea how long Jeremy’s thing’ll take.

“What is it?” He asks.

“It’s important,” Jeremy insists. “Can you just let me in?”

When Ryan doesn’t move, Jeremy does the boldest thing Ryan’s ever seen him do and he steps forward to push Ryan aside – it’s so unexpected that Ryan doesn’t even think to shove him away, and Jeremy walks in like he belongs there, when in fact he’s never even been inside the building before.

“Wow, this is a lot more homey than I would’ve expected,” Jeremy says.

“Get the fuck out!” Ryan exclaims, but a flash of black comes zooming around the corner and he hurriedly slams the door shut to end Violet’s dreams of seeing the outside world. Yet. She needs to at least heal first before Ryan entertains the possibility of her running away and never coming back.

Violet meows angrily at him and starts nipping his ankles, growling at she bites his sock and pulls at it – Ryan gently scolds her and reaches down to nudge her away. Jeremy’s jaw is on the fucking floor. Violet tries to bite his hand and Ryan frowns at her, pushing her a little more forcefully and walking away to lead her down the hallway – she gives up her bitter growling to dash to the sofa instead, plopping down on her favourite cushion and only hissing a little when Ryan sits down beside her.

“Yeah, yeah, you wanna be where the people are,” he sighs.

“You have a cat?!” Jeremy asks, coming over to hesitantly sink down in the armchair.

“It’s temporary,” Ryan snaps, annoyed and disgruntled and goddamnit, all he wanted today was a nap.

“What, is – I can’t believe it!”

“Shut up. What did you want.”

“I – well, it was about Gavin’s birthday.”

“Really?” Ryan growls, glaring at Jeremy. “You came over to talk about that?!”

“You’re not busy!” Jeremy protests. “It’s just you and – and - “

“Violet,” Ryan says, stroking Violet between the ears. He sighs and tips his head back against the sofa. “Don’t tell anyone about her.”

“What, that big bad Vagabond actually has a pet cat?”

“She’s not my pet,” Ryan says. “She – I found her. I’m going to give her up when I find a good place for her.”

“...well, uh, that’s – actually what I came to talk to you about,” Jeremy says quietly. Ryan’s head jerks up to look at him and Jeremy fiddles with his fingers, glancing at the floor, the wall, and Ryan in turn.

“Gavin’s birthday,” Ryan prompts.

“Yeah. Yeah, his – birthday. He’s always wanted a cat over here. He, uh, he used to have one back in England and I thought – you’re the best at keeping secrets, I thought you could help me – get one?”

“You trust Gavin with cats but not your car?” Ryan asks incredulously.

“That’s different! He knows the limits of a car!”

“Pushes them a lot.”

“Yeah, but – I’ve seen him with Lindsay’s cats! He’s fine with them!”

Ryan gently pets a knuckle under Violet’s chin and looks her in the eye. Her ear twitches and Ryan shifts to stroke her flank, listening to her purr under his palm.  

“Does he want any particular cat?” He asks, glancing at Jeremy.

“Not that I know of.”

Ryan studies Violet again. Pets her soft little ear.

“He can have Violet,” he says.

“I – I didn’t mean – I meant adopting a cat from a shelter or something, it doesn’t have to be - “

“I need to give her away anyway,” Ryan says. “At least if Gavin has her, I can keep an eye on her.”

“I – oh. That’s – That’s really sweet of you.”

“Don’t tell him she’s from me,” Ryan warns, shooting Jeremy a glare.

“I won’t,” Jeremy promises.

“I mean it,” Ryan adds. “I’ll key your goddamn car if I have to.”

“I won’t! I promise!” Jeremy exclaims.

“Hm. Okay,” Ryan concedes, turning back to Violet. She meows at him and Ryan hears Jeremy’s soft huff of laughter from behind him. He glances at Jeremy. Swallows a little nervously before gently lifting Violet up at setting her down on the floor, pointed towards Jeremy.

“Go on,” he croons, nudging her towards him.

“Can I - ?” Jeremy starts, looking up at Ryan. Ryan nods and Jeremy leans down to pat his shin and lure her over – his entire face lights up when Violet pads towards him, nosing curiously at his arm and sniffing his hand before letting him pet her.

“Mind the tail,” Ryan offers. Jeremy nods and pets carefully down her back and she arches at the attention, purring happily when Jeremy settles her on his lap.

“How’d you choose the name?” Jeremy asks, laughing when Violet rolls over. 

“Listed some until she stopped biting me for ‘em.” 

#fahc #fanfic #mine #my other

[omniscientprostitute]

Young Gun

Relationship: Trevor Collins x fem!Reader

Summary: You meet one of the infamous Fakes

Warnings: cursing, mild violence, random plot directions

Word Count: 2835

A/N: This is set in the FAHC universe. I took some liberties. Also, this work was inspired by a fic I read a few years ago called “down to ride (till the happy end)” by raewastaken (IWriteLove) on Archive of Our Own.http://archiveofourown.org/works/5838430

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

It wasn’t a secret that Los Santos wasn’t the best place to live The city was full of gangs and corrupt cops. It was impossible to be sure who was civilian and who was criminal. It didn’t help that your apartment was in a sketchy part of town. It wasn’t your fault you were trying to pay off a college tuition and pay rent on a minimum wage paycheck. You worked at a cute little bookstore a few blocks from your apartment. You long twelve hour shifts caused you to fall into bed exhausted most nights. That meant you could normally sleep through police sirens, but they seemed closer tonight, as if the police were circling the neighborhood. You could have sworn someone was at the window in the living room. You held your breath and laid perfectly still, while you listened to the latch on your window click. There was silence, then soft footsteps creeping towards your room. You grabbed the book off of your nightstand and scurried behind your bedroom door. There was a tense moment before the door cautiously squeaked open. You swung the book, catching the tall man on the arm. He spun, and you looked down the barrel of a handgun. You squeaked, dropping the book and putting your hands up. The man moved you to the living room, where he turned on the lights after closing all of the drapes and blinds. He wore a black bandana over the majority of his face, but his brown eyes were soft and expressive. “Do you have a phone?”

“Right bedside table.” You instructed. “The password is Alexander Pope’s death date.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” The man sassed.

“Are you supposed to be in my apartment?” You automatically snapped back. “It’s May thirtieth seventeen-forty-four.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Stay here.” You did as he instructed. Your fingers playing with the hem of your sleeping shirt. He returned to the room with your phone pressed to his cheek. The person on the other end of the phone didn’t seem happy. The man said his general whereabouts before slipping the phone into his pocket.

“Excuse me.”

“I can’t have you going to the police and tracing back the number I called.”

“Then I need a couple hundred dollars, so I can buy myself a new phone tomorrow.” You took pleasure in his surprised raised eyebrows. “I work a minimum wage job and have to pay off student loans and pay rent; it’s going to take me months to make enough to afford a phone. I’m a petite, twenty-two year old female without a car; my phone is the only protection I have. So, unless you’re going to escort me around the city, I need enough money for a new phone.” The staring contest between you and the man was interrupted by a short honk from outside your apartment. Without addressing you, the man exited the apartment with your phone.

The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment after work was take your bra off and open the fridge. You settled for reheating Mac N’ Cheese, craving some comfort food after the last twenty-four hours of stress. You didn’t notice the little wrapped box sitting on the coffee table, until you plopped down on the couch. The box was rectangular and heavy, wrapped neatly in Happy Birthday wrapping paper. You carefully ripped the paper, exposing the newest smartphone on the market. You almost dropped it to fumble for the little card that was tucked in the box:

I can’t afford to escort you around the

city, but you’re too cute to leave helpless.

The password is Alexander Pope’s death.

~Zed

You smiled at the note despite the fact that it was written by a dangerous criminal who broke into your apartment and stole your phone. Despite everything, you unlocked the phone anyway and found that all of your contacts, photos, and applications had been transferred over. Reopening the card, you considered the name Zed. It was most likely an alias. Using your new phone, you googled “Zed in Los Santos”. The most likely result was a series of police reports linking Zed with various robberies as well as the Fake AH Crew. One of the articles had a picture included. The man had been caught on video robbing a gas station, and the man in the grainy image was definitely the same guy who had broken into your apartment. The new information did make the prior evening even more terrifying, but you figured you would never see Zed again. You didn’t have anything he would want.

Forty-three minutes. You had been sitting at the counter of one of the less seedy bars in Los Santos for forty-three minutes, waiting for a date that most likely wasn’t going to show. You hadn’t been on a date in years, which was supposedly some sort of social sin based on the way your coworker reacted. So, you had let yourself be set up on a blind date. Now you felt stupid, and slightly insulted, sitting alone at a bar in a nice black dress, playing games on your phone and drinking shitty beer. You were also sort of on edge due to the group of rowdy guys huddled around the pool table by the door. There was a woman with them, but she was obviously one of them. You pushed your finished beer away and checked the time. It was eight-ten; you weren’t comfortable being out alone after nine-thirty. You knew there was no point waiting around, but it was sort of nice being out of the apartment. You looked up as the bartender set a drink down in front of you. “Courtesy of Zed.” You startled at the name and fought the urge to jerk around and search for him. Instead, you brought the glass to your lips, pleased that he had sent you something decent to drink.

You left the bar after finishing the drink. It was closing in on ten o’clock which made you nervous, but you began your walk anyway. You were a few buildings down from the bar when you felt a hand gently grab your elbow. Jerking away, you lifted your bag to hit whoever had grabbed you. You thumped the man a few times in the chest with your purse before recognizing the bandana and the brown eyes. “Jesus, Zed.”

He seemed to perk up at the use of his alias. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to walk home alone. It’s not safe. You should take a cab.”

“That’s sweet, thank you.” You began walking, not wanting to be out on the street any longer than you had to.

“So, why were you all alone at a bar?”

“I got stood up.” You admitted. “Then you bought me a drink, but didn’t come to say hello.”

“I don’t really want my friends to know about you.”

“Yet you ditch them to walk me home?”

“I told them I was going to get something to eat.”

You decided to change the conversation. “So, is the bandana a crew thing?”

“No. They prefer masks, but masks mess up my hair.” Zed ran a hand through his hair. You laughed politely, but allowed yourself to appreciate the fluffy brown hair. The tips were a bit lighter, like it had been dyed. “You look very nice by the way.”

You blushed. “Thank you. I’m glad someone appreciated the work I put in.” You obnoxiously flipper your hair making Zed laugh.

“Did you know the guy?”

“No. He’s my coworker’s friend.” You noted that you were closing in on your apartment. You were a little sad that your walk was ending. “It’s not that big of a deal. I mostly agreed to humor her.”

“Really?” Zed inquired; his right eyebrow raising.

You didn’t know why you were being so open with Zed. He was a dangerous criminal, but he also seemed like a real person. “I’ve been single for over six months. I get a little lonely sometimes.” Zed walked you up to your apartment. “Thank you for walking me home. Even though you broke into my apartment, you made me feel safe.” You made it obvious that you were teasing. “Have a good evening Zed.” You suppressed the urge to kiss his cloth covered cheek before retreating into your apartment.

For the next month, you life returned to it’s calm state. Work ruled your life. Despite you coworker’s further pressing, you declined any other dates. You wouldn’t say you fell into a depression, but there was definitely a dullness that took over your life. If your landlord would have allowed it, you would have gotten a pet, probably a dog that would require you to leave the apartment for walks or get off the couch to play.

You were sitting on your couch eating a salad with limp lettuce and watching The Twilight Zone, when your living room window slid open. A short but wide shouldered man slid in before collapsing to the floor. You sprinted over, closing the window, and drawing the curtains The man rolled onto his back: “You’re Treyco’s girlfriend right?”

“Who?” You stepped back as the man got to his feet.

“I thought this was the right apartment.”

“The only criminal I know is Zed, and I haven’t seen him in over a month.”

“So you are her!” The man pumped his fist in the air. “Zed is Treyco.” He explained. “And, I’m Rimmy Tim, but you can call me Lil J. I’m Treyco’s best friend.”

“Umm, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I should be saying that to you.” Lil J followed you into the kitchen, where you began fixing yourself more salad since most of yours had ended up on the floor. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you, since he broke into your apartment to avoid the cops. God, it’s so annoying. ‘Oh Jeremy, she was so adorable. She’s so smart and she wears Batman boxers to bed. Her name is Y/N, and she works at a book store.” Lil J suddenly dropped the high pitched voice he had adopted. “it’s so gross. I just had to check you out.” You knew your face was bright red. You were flattered by the compliments, although it seemed like Zed or Treyco was stalking you. “I gotta’ admit; you are pretty cute.”

“Thank you?”

“Well, I’ve gotta’ run. See you around Y/N.” Lil J then walked out the front door.

The next morning you found a vase of flowers on your counter with a note that said:

Sorry about Lil J.

~Zed

You were in the middle of straightening the children’s books when the bell over the front entrance tinkled softly. “Welcome to Marlee’s Books. Holler if you need anything.” You called before peeking your head around the bookshelf. The most attractive man ever was looking at the display of new releases in the front. He was tall but not lanky. He wore light brown leather boots, fitted dark wash jeans, and a light gray jacket over a pale green shirt. His hair and the tips of his ears were tucked under a black beanie. He looked like a model. You hid back behind the stacks and internally screamed as you moved from the children’s section to non-fiction. A man that gorgeous probably already had a girlfriend.

“Hey.” You jumped at the voice that almost sounded familiar. “I was wondering if you had any Alexander Pope?” You nodded, quickly setting aside the books you were straightening and hurried out of the aisle. You didn’t make eye-contact with the man as he followed you through the store.

“All of our Neoclassical authors are in this area.” You stopped in front of the shelf housing works by Alexander Pope. “My personal favorite is The Complete Collection; it’s a little expensive, but it includes a partial biography and all of his literary criticisms. Most collections only include his poems and essays.”

“Thank you.” You took that as a dismissal and returned to the non-fiction section.

The man perused the store for more than an hour before approaching the counter. He had selected three books, one of which was the collection that you had recommended. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“Yes, thank you.” In a lapse of self-awareness, you made eye-contact with the man. He had brown eyes that looked like pools of melted dark chocolate.

“Your total is sixty-five forty-eight.” The man handed you a fancy black card with the name Trevor Collins engraved in gold on it. “Have a nice day Mr. Collins.”

“You too.”

The rest of your shift was uneventful. A few of the regulars came in to buy some of the new releases, but other than that the store was quiet. The lack of patrons allowed you to complete your duties earlier than usual. You vacuumed and dusted before clocking out and handing your keys to the closing manager. Knowing that you had no food in your apartment, you decided to stop by a Mexican place on the way home. Had you been paying attention, you wouldn’t have gone in. Gang territory disputes could happen anywhere at anytime. Sometimes they happened in the middle of the street. Sometimes they happened in a Mexican restaurant. You were immediately knocked over the head with the but of a gun and bound with rubber hosing. The gang member waived a gun in your face as a warning to be quiet, then they shoved you in the back. There were three employees in the back, all of which had been killed by a bullet to the forehead.

They seemed to have forgotten about you until the cops showed up. You were forced over bodies of the losing gang and pressed against the storefront window. A gun was pressed to your head. You could see about three cop cars and a handful of reporters with cameras outside of the restaurant. You wondered if they were live, if somewhere hot guy Trevor Collins, or criminal nice-guy Zed was watching you be used as a hostage. Everyone was yelling, but you weren’t understanding what was being said. You figured they were negotiating with your life.

Suddenly the window in front of you shattered, and the guy who had been holding you dropped with a bullet in his head. You had enough mind to fall onto your stomach as the night’s second shoot out occurred over your head. You curled into a ball and waited for the police to get you. You were put in an ambulance and taken to the hospital, but you were sent home before midnight.

You entered your apartment to find the hot guy Trevor Collins standing in your kitchen with a familiar bandana hanging around his neck. “I should have figured you were gorgeous.” You walked past Trevor to throw yourself onto the couch. “So, were you there or did you see it on the news?”

“I saw it on the news.” You felt the couch dip by your feet.

“Why are you here Zed, or Treyco, or Trevor, whoever you are right now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then leave!” You jerked into a sitting position. “You’re whole--I’m going to be everywhere for a week then disappear for a month--thing is incredibly confusing, especially with you detached but protective attitude. Either take me on a date or leave me alone!” Your stomach dropped as Trevor got up from the couch.

“You should probably take off work tomorrow. Tonight must have been really stressful.”

Despite you being unable to close your eyes without getting vivid flashbacks, you didn’t call into work. Your manager and coworkers who had seen the news sent you home, but you didn’t return to your apartment you hunkered down in a cafe around the corner. Alone was the worst thing for you at the moment. You stared into the black mil of your coffee. You couldn’t tell if Trevor had been hurt or angered by your outburst. He definitely closed himself off, but you hoped that didn’t mean he was leaving you alone. Bot that he owed you anything. Trevor was probably busy with criminal stuff; he didn’t need to be messing around with you. “You are supposed to be at home.” You looked up, a small smile gracing your lips at Trevor’s exasperated tone. “Do you mind if I sit?” You shook your head. “So, coffee shop?”

“Didn’t really want to be alone.” You admitted. “I’m sorry about last night. That was out of line.”

“No, I needed to hear it.” Trevor looked down into his own coffee. “I like you a lot; I was just unsure what with my profession, but I talked to some friends, and I would really like to take you on a date.”

“Does this count?” You asked, nudging Trevor’s cup with your own.

“Only if you let me buy your next one.”

“I think we can make that happen.”

#trevor collins imagine #fahc trevor #reader insert

[lynchkavinskyparrish]

For the fic thing 6. and Adam/Ronan

Adam/Ronan  

6. “H-how long haveyou been standing there?”

 Adam was at work, Opalwas at Blue’s house being taught some sort of feminist-psychic nonsense, andRonan was alone at the Barns. He’d already done all the chores for the upkeepof the barns and put in the requisite dream hours. Ronan had even thought aboutgoing to Monmouth to bother Gansey but, just as he was grabbing his keys, heremembered that Gansey was in DC at some ‘family event’. Had it been a fewhours later in the day then Ronan could have plausibly gone out looking forsome sort of race but, as it was, it was only three in the afternoon and he wasbored out of his mind. After a few more minutes of bemoaning his fate hedecided he pulled Netflix up on the TV. In the past, Ronan had criticized the‘pathetic losers’ who ‘had nothing better to do than binge TV series’, yet herehe was. It seemed that the age-old adage, about desperate times calling fordesperate measures, was right on many counts. This was how Ronan ended upscrolling through Netflix, searching for something that would be slightly lesspainful then the mind numbing boredom he had been experiencing.

Eventually, interested in the premise of aknife-centric show, he settled on Chopped.Very quickly he realized his mistake, the show was not knife-centric at all, but he ended up watching thefirst two episodes anyway, out of sheer confusion.

He couldn’t fathom thepurpose behind the whole ordeal. He understood that it was a competition forprize money, but he couldn’t see why the required ingredients were so odd. Itseemed to Ronan that any chef worthy of the title, would just keep theirkitchen stocked and would never have to use anything they didn’t want to.However, after the first two episodes, Ronan was no longer concerned with thepurpose of the show. He was entertained enough by the unexpected amount ofdrama and action that he forgot about the problems he had with the unrealisticnature of the show.

This was how Adam foundhim when he returned from his shift at the garage. Adam entered the main house quietly,used to making his presence as unobtrusive as possible, and set his bag down inRonan’s bedroom before searching for his boyfriend. It didn’t take very long tofind him, seeing as he and the television were the only sources of noise in theotherwise silent house. There was nothing inherently strange about Ronanwatching something on TV but there was something different about the scene Adamwas greeted with when he breeched the living room doorway.

Ronan was so concentratedon his show that he didn’t notice Adam standing behind him. Adam was about tosay something to let Ronan know he was there but stopped when Ronan startedshouting. At first Adam was concerned that something had happened, but he soonrealized Ronan was talking to whatever was on the screen. Even knowing thatRonan was addressing the screen, Adam still couldn’t make sense of what he wassaying. He squinted at the TV and saw it was some sort of cooking show. That gavesome helpful context to what Ronan was shouting about but it didn’t explainRonan’s investment in the show. Entertained by Ronan’s reactions Adam decidedto lean back against the doorway and enjoy Ronan’s commentary in secret for alittle while longer.

This seemingly easy tasksoon became exceedingly hard because, the more Ronan said, the harder it wasfor Adam to contain himself. He was struggling valiantly to not laugh whenRonan shouted something even more outrageous than all the last.

“For fucks sake Sharon!Stop forgetting the basket ingredients, you useless piece of shit! If fucking ass-faceJeremy wins because of you I’m suing!”

Ronan’s diatribe wasabruptly cut off by Adam’s choked laughter. Turning quickly, Ronan saw Adamleaning against the doorframe, laughing too hard to remain standing withoutsupport. He could feel his entire face heating up but managed to push throughand speak with only a slight stutter. ““H-how long have you been standingthere?”

Adam tried to answer butcouldn’t speak past his laughter. After a few more minutes of Adam trying andfailing to stop laughing and Ronan skulking, Adam managed to get a grip. Hiswords were interrupted with laughter and his answer was slightly stilted, but itwas the best he could manage. “Long enough to – to know that – that Sharon’s a ‘uselesspiece of shit’ and Jeremy is an ‘ass face.’” Adam laughed again after hefinished his comment but, seeing that Ronan was genuinely embarrassed, movedover to sit next to him on the couch. He leaned into him and sighed contentedly,laughter slowly subsiding. “So. Tell me all about this Sharon.”

Ronan crossed his arms and refused to answerat first, but when he glanced over at Adam and saw how happy he looked he gavein. “Well, first of all, Sharon needs to fucking win. She has a family to feed.The other assholes just want to build shitty, hipster, restaurants.”

Adam interrupted. “Jeremy’sone of the assholes?”

Ronan nodded seriously. “Jeremy’sthe worst. Fucking jerk.”

The conversationcontinued like this for a bit and soon enough all Ronan’s feelings of embarrassmenthad been replaced with the warmth of Adam’s laughter. After Ronan finished hisrant about the unjustness of the whole situation, Adam asked if they couldwatch it together.

Ronan looked surprisedat Adam’s willingness to do something that wasn’t productive but pressed playanyway. At first Ronan forced himself to stay silent, not wanting to furtherembarrass himself, but at Adam’s disappointed look he stopped holding back.Soon enough Ronan was shouting at the contestants just a fervently as he hadbefore he was interrupted. Eventually Adam joined suit and Ronan’s heart soaredat the thought that he was one of the few people in the world that got to seethis playful, viciously sarcastic, side of Adam. Ronan was so overwhelmed bythe sudden onslaught of emotions that his attention drifted away from the showand he stopped commentating.

Adam soon caught on andlooked over to Ronan to check if everything was alright. But, before Adam couldeven voice his concerns, Ronan covered his mouth with his own in a passionatebut brief kiss. Directly after, Ronan went back to commenting on the contestant’spoor life choices, as if he hadn’t just knocked Adam’s heart into overdrive.

Adam’s heart didn’treturn to its normally scheduled program until the contestants reached thefinal round, a fact that Ronan seemed smugly aware of. But, by the time thedesserts were being presented Adam was commenting as normal and Ronan’s smuglook had been replaced by a look of tension as he waited for the judges toannounce the winner.

When Sharon wasproclaimed the victor Adam and Ronan cheered in unison. And, as the creditsrolled, Ronan stood up from the couch and stretched before walking towards thekitchen saying, “I’m gonna make the shit out of dinner tonight.”

Adam followed suit moreslowly, and meandered towards the kitchen, smiling even as he sighed.

Ronan was an awful cook, and watching a fewepisodes of a cooking show couldn’t change that, but Adam would eat whatever hemade with pleasure. He loved every single part of Ronan and would have nocomplaints if the rest of his life was spent watching Ronan yell at FoodNetwork contestants and eating his shitty food.  

#pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #fic ask meme thing

[ecotone99]

[RF] Like Father Like Son

“Hey Mary, y’know how last week you were ill and I covered for you?” enquired John, rubbing his temples.

“Yeah, I remember”. She replied.

“Well Mary, to be honest with you, I cannot be fucked today. I’ve had to deal with Victoria, the cat lady, and that Japanese guy who just expects me to understand him when I don’t and never fucking will, and more, while on no hours of sleep cause of the bairn. Do you need me these last few hours? Cause I’d like to go home before I clart someone”.

“Yes that’s fine you can go home. It’s probably going to get quiet soon anyways”.

“Thank you”. John gave Mary a pat on her back as he strode from the till to the back room. He put on his coat, stole a donut from its box (consuming it in seconds) before shouting another thanks and a goodbye to Mary. He exited through the back of the building and entered his Ford parked close by. He took in a deep breath, smiled to himself, relishing in thoughts of a few hours of peace at home. Until the phone rang.

John sighed and checked to see who was calling him. It was from Tumbleton Primary School. Puzzled, John answered it. “Hey, what's this about?”

"Hi, this is Mr Henderson?"

"It is".

“Your son stole something from another student and when his teacher, Mrs Ranger asked him about it he slapped her. He is currently in Mr Watson’s office, he has asked me to ask you to collect Jeremy and take him home”.

John moved the phone away from his ear for a moment, mumbling “what the... fuck sake” to himself before returning the phone to his ear. “Okay, I’ll come down and collect him. Is it possible that I could meet with Mr Watson to discuss what happened and how he will be punished before I take him home?”

“Yes I think I can set that up Mr Henderson” the receptionist responded.

“Good, Good… I’ll be there as soon as I can”

“Alright we’ll see you soon then, bye”. John returned the bye and hung up the phone.

“YES! OF COURSE THIS HAPPENS RIGHT NOW! YES! YES! YES!” John yelled, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. After composing himself John ran a hand through his thinning black hair and started the car. Luckily, the traffic was light so John arrived at the school rather quickly. Entering reception, John forced a smile at the ditzy receptionist and said politely “I’m here for a meeting with Mr Watson and to collect my son Jeremy Henderson”.

“Oh, little Jeremy is your son?” asked the receptionist, somehow confused.

“Um... yes?” John was perplexed. “Why would I come here to pick up some random kid I don’t know?”.

“Well. You could have been a family friend.”

We share the same last name, fucking idiot John thought. “Sure, of course”. The receptionist buzzed him into the school and he made his way to the head teachers office. He reached the office and was greeted by Linda, waiting outside the deputy heads office.

“Oh hello John how are you? I’m doing great, my son recently won the-” Shut up you snobby cow.

“Hi Linda, I’m having a meeting with Mr Watson I’ll talk to you later, alright?” interrupted John before knocking on the head teachers door.

“Oh yes, I actually think I heard your Jeremy inside there, I’ll talk to you later John” Better not, I would clart you.

“Come in!” Mr Watson called. John entered and noticed the two chairs in front of Mr Watsons desk. Slouched down with crossed arms on the right side chair was Jeremy, glaring at his father. I haven’t done anything to you, the fuck you staring at me for. “Mr Henderson, thank you for joining us, please have a seat”. John sat down next to his son.

“Well, what happened Mr Watson. I’ve been told a little from a receptionist but I’d like details.”

"Mr Henderson, I’ve been told from Mrs Ranger that Samir accused Jeremy of cheating off him on a tes-”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jeremy whined.

“You can tell your side of the story once I’ve told your father the events I have been told”. The head teacher responded.

“Um, I wasn’t told that Jeremy cheated on a test. I was told he stole something from another student and that he slapped a teacher”.

“I didn’t do that either!” Jeremy interjected “Dad I didn-”.

“We know you didn't, well the stealing at least,” Mr Watson interrupted. “Mr Henderson, I apologise that you have been given a different turn of events than I have, our receptionist must have gotten confused”.

“Okay” fucking idiot. “Continue”.

“Jeremy was accused of cheating on a test by copying his classmate Samir. Upon hearing of this Jeremy threatened to “clart” him.” John felt oddly proud of Jeremy at that moment. That's my word. That's my boy. “Mrs Ranger told off Jeremy for using violent language and gave Jeremy detention for cheating on the test. He proceeded to yell at her and when Mrs Ranger sent him to my office your son slapped her on the way out of the classroom.” John thought of his father. Damn it, how’d I let this happen?

“I only did it cause she said I did something that I did not do dad!" Jeremy affirmed.

John turned his head to his son “Okay, I hear you”. He turned back to Mr Watson “Is there any actual proof that my son cheated?”

“His answers were extremely similar to Samir and a lot more… correct than usual” Mr Watson replied, “but I don’t think you quite understand what is so severe about this situation. He attacked a member of staff at this school. I’ll have no choice but to suspend Jeremy for at least a week, likely more”. Shit.

“Okay, I understand you punishing him for the slap Mr Watson. However, you need to understand that during the day me and the wife are working, we cannot leave a child at home by itself. Baby Tommy is sent to a nursery but in case you couldn’t tell Jeremy is a bit too old for that now. Don’t suspend Jeremy”. Said John, trying to command.

“Could you not find a family member to take care of Jeremy while you’re at work? Or even-”

“My family are all dead you inconsiderate fucking prick” mumbled John.

“Excuse me?” replied Mr Watson incredulously.

John realised what he said and contemplated apologising before thinking out loud again. “Fuck it, you’re not going to budge”, John stood up and motioned for Jeremy to follow him as he strode out of Mr Watsons office. He burst through the receptionist doors, ignoring whatever she said to him and left the school. Jeremy was laughing as he hopped into the front seat of the car.

“Dad you telt hi-”

“Don’t laugh son. Why did you slap your teacher?” Jeremy’s smile fell.

“I told you she accused me of cheating,” he responded.

“I know why you wanted to, but why did you do it?” John grilled. Jeremy looked at his father confused. “You were angry at Mrs Ranger, I understand that. But you knew you would be punished, you know she’s old, I’ve told you not to hit others, why did you choose to slap her?” Jeremy looked down and started playing with his thumbs.

“I wasn’t thinking, I felt like it so I did” he meekly responded. A feeling of guilt washed over John, I can’t let this happen again.

“Jeremy… I’m going to tell you about my father” John decided. “Like you and me, my father got angry. A lot. And he needed an outlet for that anger… me and my mother. Round about my fifth birthday, I was sitting eating at the table. My parents were discussing my father losing his job and me being five I had no concept of the working world. I just asked him “why don’t you just work?” and in a flash of rage he shouted “I can’t now Johnny!” and pushed me off my chair banging my head against the wall. I was crying and he just kept on apologising, kissing my forehead saying “I’m so sorry Johnny so so sorry”, and then he’d say the same to my mother who was irate at that moment but forgave him quickly. That was how it started, he’d have these “moments of darkness” as he’d call them. He would quickly lash out at me and my mother and act like he had no control over his actions and my mother would forgive him. As a man now, I know he was making a choice...” John turned and looked at Jeremy in his eyes. “Jeremy, the way my father raised me led to me dealing with my emotions with anger as he did, and you’re going down that road as well… You will apologise to Mrs Ranger, as I will for losing my temper with Mr Watson, and you will not hit someone unprovoked, you will not become my father. Do you understand?”.

The car was silent for a moment before Jeremy nodded, “Yes” he responded. John started the Ford and began driving, but not to home.

“We’re going to McDonalds Jeremy.” He’ll like that. Jeremy’s mood lightened and he was back to smiling when they walked under the golden arches. John ordered a grand big mac bacon while Jeremy got chicken nuggets. John collected the order and sat at a table. They opened their boxes and Jeremy began consuming the nuggets, John looked at his burger and noticed they forgot the bacon. Fucking dumb shits he thought, biting into his burger. Outwardly keeping composure, for Jeremy.

This is a draft of a story I'm hoping to submit to a short story contest so I'd appreciate it if you left feedback in the comments.

The prompt for this story was "Write a story about someone who receives an unexpected phone call"

submitted by /u/CushPesaro [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2SUpv8Q

#Blogger #Story

[iamchikara]

Season Seventeen is complete. Results for White Rabbit, Whatever Happened, Happened, and The Shape of Things to Come under the cut. Points noted for winners, but not tabulated, as I’m going to overhaul the point standings.

WHITE RABBIT

Ophidian, Fire Ant, and Obariyon are at the Wrestle Factory talking about their new group, with Ophidian saying that they need to seek out the one who understands the true meaning of vengeance if they're going to call themselves "The Furies"...and Icarus is listening in. (Note: I've read through the results prior to this, and some of the segments involving The Furies seem a little out of order to me. I don't know if it'll be that way for anyone else.)

Match #1: Singles Contest Race Jaxon vs. Ophidian

Not a great start for Ophidian considering this new group of his, as Jaxon defeated him with a discus clothesline he's calling the Head Shot.

WINNER: Race Jaxon (1 point)

Match #2: Singles Contest Obariyon vs. Frightmare

In contrast to his newfound partner, Obariyon was off to the races, defeating Mare with the dreaded Flying DDT. Hallowicked tried to interfere, only to be run off by Icarus.

WINNER: Obariyon (1 point)

Time to check in on Officers Barksdale and Meloni! They're at police training! Meloni's enthusiastic, but Barksdale isn't.

Match #3: Tag Contest Crummels and DeFarge vs. Sylverhawk and Razerhawk

This didn't end well for the Hawx, as DeFarge got the pin on Razer after a Mucus Claw and an Amaze Impact. (Mucus Claw? Really?)

WINNERS: Crummels and DeFarge (1 point)

Travis Huckabee admits he made mistakes as a referee, but he decided to live his life differently and not run from bullies. He'll run from other things, like spiders, crazy exes, and his Aunt Carol (and don't we all have crazy relatives we'd like to run from), but not bullies. And Solo Darling shows up to agree that spiders are totally scary. (Will you two please just date already?)

Match #4: Singles Contest Travis Huckabee vs. Max Smashmaster

Yeah, that bully thing? Might've been better to run from them after all. Smashmaster pretty much murdered Travis with two tombstone piledrivers, and would've done a third if Bryce hadn't threatened a DQ.

WINNER: Max Smashmaster (1 point)

Heidi Lovelace speaks about how CHIKARA has affected her, then speaks about facing Arik Cannon again. Looks like this is officially her last match with CHIKARA, and considering that she's just made her debut on NXT, it's good timing.

Match #5: Singles Contest Heidi Lovelace vs. Arik Cannon

And Heidi went out on top, courtesy of a Greco-Roman Liplock (I'm not sure if that's a joke or not) and a small package.

WINNER: Heidi Lovelace (1 point, automatically Inactive)

The Closers accuse Moustache Mountain of cowardice! They're tired of waiting and they're going to break the competition.

Match #6: Grand Championship Defense Hallowicked (champion) vs. Wani

Wani earned his third point during the last batch of events, but was unable to make good on his shot, as Hallowicked retained with Never Wake Up.

WINNER: Hallowicked

Team Sea Stars, who didn't get the memo, ask Heidi to be their mentor. She's flattered and thinks they have loads of potential, but she's headed off into the sunset. She wishes them luck anyway.

WHATEVER HAPPENED, HAPPENED

Next to an ice-covered car on a wintry street (what a contrast from the last time), Lucas Calhoun talks about Eskimos and snow, accuses Jeremy Leary of being an impostor, then accepts the hair vs. hair challenge.

Mark Angelosetti congratulates Dasher Hatfield on winning the Golden Opportunity, and Dasher earmarks it for getting the Throwbacks a shot at the CdP. (So wait, why did the Ice Creams have to cash in both of theirs, when one apparently works just as well for the same purpose?)

Match #1: Singles Contest Merlok vs. Nytehawk

Merlok apparently has it in for the Hawx. Nyte fell to an Emerald Flosion.

WINNER: Merlok (1 point)

Officer Meloni is officially Officer Barksdale's backup, and introduces Officer Magnum to him. (What the heck is Boot Juice?)

Match #2: The Force w/Officer Magnum vs. Hiptoss Hank and Benny the Beal

Same as usual for matches involving the squad of enhancement guys Benny and Hank belong to. Law & Order double team on Hank.

WINNERS: The Force (1 point)

Princess Kimberlee's being blackmailed into facing another friend, as she's not happy about having to face Fire Ant.

Match #3: Singles Contest Princess Kimberlee vs. Fire Ant

Kimberlee gave her tiara to Bryce instead of a fan, then reluctantly exploited a knee injury Fire sustained during the match. She eventually secured the win with the Coronation.

WINNER: Princess Kimberlee (1 point)

Crummels and DeFarge are still not happy about Moustache Mountain not showing up. (You're not the only ones, Dickensians.) They're also not happy about Dasher putting his GO towards a CdP shot and declare that he's not cutting in line. They'll keep collecting points, but they'd rather just have their shot.

Match #4: Tag Contest Cornelius Crummels and Sonny DeFarge vs. Travis Huckabee and Solo Darling

And they're continuing to collect points, as Huckabee falls to Great Expectations.

WINNERS: Crummels and DeFarge (1 point)

And Whisper's still not done with Kimberlee, as she's still being blackmailed.

Match #5: Singles Contest, Hair vs. Hair Jeremy Leary vs. Lucas Calhoun

And it's still unacceptable that Leary has swiped Calhoun's gear. (Insert Mr. Lemongrab here!) Calhoun avenged his honor by defeating Leary with a Super Samoan Drop.

WINNER: Lucas Calhoun (1 point)

You'd think this would end it, but nope. The aftermath got a little weird. To explain what happened, I'm going to C/P from the CHIKARA Season 17 results thread on the 101. This is courtesy of our friend and infodumper extraordinare Jay 2K Winger...

"After losing, Leary tried to weasel out of it, but the ref would not let him. Leary finally told him to go ahead and do it. Leary finally said, "You know what, big brother, go ahead and do it." Calhoun said he had enough of Leary's nonsense, but Leary said it wasn't nonsense, it was perfect sense. "Let me see if I can rekindle your memory, big brother, do you remember Callux? And what about Freytar?* I got one for you, what about Professor Nicodemus? You remember them, don't you? Go ahead." (* I couldn't make out the names that Leary used here.) Calhoun asked if "That's what this was all about, you wanna beat me? You wanna steal my identity?! Well you can have it!" Calhoun started shaving his own head, while Leary looked on smugly. Leary laughed as Calhoun left. Calhoun came back and Leary left while Calhoun shaved his head. Calhoun said, "You wanna be Lucas Calhoun? You can have it, and all that comes with it.""

No, I don't quite get it, either.

UltraMantis Black is cashing in his points! He talks about winning King of Trios with Hallowicked, then about going through him to win the Grand Championship.

Match #6: Grand Championship Defense Hallowicked (champion) vs. UltraMantis Black

Wicked explicitly targeted Mantis' left leg, hoping to exploit what nearly ended his career. Tecnicos showed up to cheer Mantis on during the match. As we all know from NPWD '17 and beyond, the result of this was a foregone conclusion, as Mantis took out Wicked and took the title with a Praying Mantis Bomb before being hoisted up on the shoulders of the gathered tecnicos.

WINNER and NEW GRAND CHAMPION: UltraMantis Black

Ophidian gives advice to Sylverhawk before Solo Darling and Travis Huckabee show up. Solo has to be corrected regarding the group not being named the "Furries", but they both sign on.

THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME

Kimberlee is at the barber shop, she's glad "he" is gone, that she can put "that skeleton" back in the closet, and she asks what's new with the barber.

Match #1: Tag Contest The Force w/Officer Magnum vs. Hermit Crab and Cajun Crawdad

Meloni ended up cuffing Crab to the ropes so they could hit Crawdad with Law & Order. (And how is that fair?)

WINNERS: The Force (1 point)

Juan Francisco de Coronado is not happy to have to start from the bottom of the rankings again, and he intends to take that out on Missile Assault Man.

Match #2: Singles Contest Missile Assault Man vs. Juan Francisco de Coronado

A deft counter of the Missile Launcher into his trademark German suplex got JFDC the win here.

WINNER: Juan Francisco de Coronado (1 point)

Ophidian's with Fire Ant, Obariyon, and Icarus to formally announce the formation of The Furies. (The segment order for these seriously does not make sense.)

Match #3: Trios Contest The Furies (Icarus, Fire Ant, and Obariyon) vs. The Legion of Rot (Hallowicked, Frightmare, and Kobald)

Kobald wasn't exactly happy to see his former partner on the opposite side, and he was conflicted about striking him when confronted. Obariyon even directly asked him whose side he was on. (Guess we'll find that out when someone freaking fixes him!) He ended up being hit with a Shiranui, Yahtzee Kick, and a flying headbutt, then pinned.

WINNERS: The Furies

Ophidian addresses Princess Kimberlee and her recent behavior. (And doesn't look to know the cause of it!) He'll do what he must.

Match #4: Singles Contest Princess Kimberlee vs. Ophidian

Kimberlee came into this match with three points, and continued her reluctant merciless, looking to the back frequently as she did so. (Another point of weird editing, wasn't "he" already gone?) Unfortunately for her, Ophidian pinned her with a bridging backslide.

WINNER: Ophidian (1 point), Kimberlee is out of the standings

Match #5: Three-Way Tag Contest Two falls to win, to the winners go the spoils (AKA the vacated Campeonatos de Parejas) Crummels and DeFarge vs. The Throwbacks vs. The Closers

So we never got a single defense from Moustache Mountain. Really. Yeah, that was a bit of a waste. From what I've seen, they also look to still have the physical CdP, unless they returned them between earlier in the month and now.

Anyways, the first fall went to the Throwbacks, as Dasher jackhammered Caprice. Crummels and DeFarge took the second, as Crummels utilized an Oklahoma roll to defeat Roland. Third fall to the Closers, as Caprice pinned Crummels after the Deal Breaker. The Closers went after Touchdown, but got distracted as Crummels rung the bell, making them think they won the match. Crummels then dove at Caprice, blocking him against the ropes as DeFarge swooped in on a prone touchdown to get their second fall and secure the CdP.

WINNERS and NEW CAMPEONATOS DE PAREJAS: Cornelius Crummels and Sonny DeFarge

The Furies go recruiting in the tecnico locker room, and Team Sea Stars signs on.

Loooooooots of talking from Race Jaxon, who apparently saw fit to give us a history lesson on him. (And you all hated Juan Francisco de Coronado back in the day for talking so much.) Apparently he has three points, and he's going after UltraMantis Black.

Match #6: Grand Championship Defense UltraMantis Black (champion) vs. Race Jaxon

Race got his shirt stuck over his head. Mantis murdered him. Three straight Praying Mantis Bombs. The pre-match interview from Race was quite literally longer than this match.

WINNER: UltraMantis Black

Kimberlee, leaving the Wrestle Factory, is once again confronted by Whisper, who's once again trying to blackmail her. She's had enough of it, and quits. Whisper doesn't seem too concerned, as he watches her go and plays with his yo-yo, which has a clock built into it. (Yep, we're not gonna find out what the heck he was blackmailing her with.)

#CHIKARA #Season Seventeen #White Rabbit #Whatever Happened Happened #The Shape of Things to Come #Results