#went to like mustard red (who still has connects) or something

[rozecrest]

no for real where did gucci get that leash

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 4

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Self Control

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa, Female!Reader x OMC – Ethan (past, mentioned)

Word Count: 6,612 (thoughts, song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: After Charlie witnesses the looks between Dean and Y/N outside the school on Friday, she convinces Y/N they should go out for drinks. At the bar, Charlie and Y/N bond, as she opens up to Charlie about Dean but also her past. After several drinks, Y/N goes home drunk and gets a little help from a friend. The next day brings a little embarrassment, but also brings up feelings within Dean and Y/N, that they know they shouldn’t be feeling.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of reader’s ex, Talk of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of a physical incident against reader, Drunk reader, Embarrassment, Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning), flirting, forbidden feelings

Music: Deeper in the Water by The Lone Bellow (playing in the background while Y/N is baking scene), Wherever I May Roam by Metallica (Dean and Y/N backyard scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone for your wonderful comments on this series so far! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it! This part is a little heavier, so please read the warnings. Please share your thoughts with me, I love hearing what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics​! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Y/N took off her red glasses, smiling as she looked at her students. She could see them all flicking their eyes up at the clock every now and then, wondering when the bell would ring. She found it amusing as she tried not to laugh. It was Friday and they couldn’t wait to get out of there and start their weekend fun. She couldn’t wait herself, hoping to have some time for herself, call her family and maybe go see a movie.

Unfortunately for her students, they still had some time before they could leave, using that time to take the notes for the criteria set for their book reports. She watched as they all scribbled in their notebooks hurriedly, wanting to get out as soon as the bell went off.

“Make sure it’s personal to you” she told them as they wrote. “Books have a way of really affecting us, so I want you guys to choose something that really had a big effect on you.”

Some of them mumbled an “okay” while others nodded.

Suddenly, the bell rang, and they all sprung up at the same time. It was like how smaller children got excited for ice-cream.

“Alright, don’t all head out at the same time! You’ll plow each other out of the way!” she laughed.

“Sorry, Miss Y/L/N” one student called out.

“Have a great weekend, guys!” she called out in return.

Y/N walked out of the room as well, following them down the hallway and out of the school building. She smiled as students were being picked up by their parents, getting on the bus home or their bikes and riding home. She spotted a parent of one of her students notice her, walking over to her.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the woman asked.

“Yes” Y/N smiled, offering her hand.

“Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you, I’m Carol. Amy’s mom” she said, shaking Y/N’s hand.

“Wonderful to meet you, too” Y/N agreed.

“I just wanted to come and introduce myself and welcome you” Carol said, a bright, peaceful smile on her face. “I know it’s already been a couple of weeks, but I hope you’re loving Lawrence.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m definitely warming up to life here.”

“Well, Amy’s really fond of you. English is already her favorite subject but she’s so happy to have someone like you teaching it” Carol complemented her.

Y/N beamed, her heart soaring. It was always great to hear when kids enjoyed a subject and the way you taught it.

“She’s a great student, so that definitely makes it easy” Y/N told her.

Carol blushed, delighted by the complement for her daughter. “Well, we better go. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” Y/N said. “It was great to meet you.”

As Carol walked away after saying goodbye, Y/N looked around as the crowds of children started to clear. She spotted Charlie and was about to walk over, when she noticed who she was talking to. Dean was leaning against his car, aviators on and laughing at something Charlie just said. Ben was sitting in the car, waiting for Dean. She didn’t realize that Charlie knew Dean too, but she really should’ve made the connection considering she knew Cas, and Cas knew Dean. She thought about going over there, but she didn’t want to interrupt them. Plus, after what happened the other night at dinner with him and Lisa, she wasn’t sure if she should go over there.

“Y/N!” she heard her redheaded friend call out and she knew she had to go over.

She smiled as she walked over, trying to prepare herself to be near Dean again. He looked so damn good in that moment, and she was finding it hard to look at him.

“Thanks to your car, I know you already know each other, so I don’t have to introduce you” Charlie laughed, as she nudged Y/N with her hand.

“Yeah.” Dean took his sunglasses off and Y/N saw that he was looking directly at her. She was suddenly nervous again.

Dean took her in, dressed in a black dress that hugged her body in just the right way. Her red glasses were tucked into the neckline of her dress, and he had a sudden urge to see her wearing them. Mind outta the gutter, man he thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“I didn’t realize you guys were friends” she said, as she stood in front of Charlie and Dean.

Charlie smiled as she looked at Dean. “Yeah, have been for years.”

“Charlie’s like the little sister I never wanted” Dean teased, smiling cheekily at her. Charlie punched him in the arm, and he laughed.

His gaze moved from her back to Y/N. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since the first time he met her, but even more so after what happened at her house.

Charlie noticed how Dean and Y/N were looking at each other and dropped her head, smiling without them seeing.

“I better go” he said, suddenly, putting his sunglasses back on. “Lisa finished work early and we’re going to Sid and Olivia’s for dinner.”

“Tell them I said hi” Y/N told him, trying not frown as she wished he had stayed longer.

“Sure thing” he nodded. He moved in to hug Charlie, kissing her head.

Y/N watched as Dean got into the car and drove off, the car roaring down the road. She turned to Charlie and her face dropped into a frown, when she saw her friend grinning at her.

“What?”

“You like him” Charlie stated.

Y/N stared at her in shock, before scoffing a laugh. “You’re insane.”

“On the contrary, I’m completely sane” Charlie countered. “And you denied it a little too quickly, so it has to be true.”

“Charlie…” Y/N trailed off, not knowing how to respond to that.

“I think we need to get a drink together” Charlie suggested. “We haven’t gotten a chance to hang out outside of work yet.”

Y/N grinned. “Sounds great.”

“Tonight?” Charlie asked.

“Name a time and place, and I’m there” Y/N responded quickly. She was excited to go out and see what Lawrence was like on a Friday night. She knew it wouldn’t be much for a small town, but she also knew she needed to know how the nightlife was here.

“Ditch the rental at home and I’ll pick you up” Charlie said, as she started to walk away. “I’ll be there at 7!”

“See you soon!” Y/N called out as they both made their way back in to collect their belongings, before they headed home.

When she got home, Y/N relaxed for a while before she needed to get ready. She freshened up and got dressed into black ripped skinny jeans and a dark mustard sweater. She put on her black heeled ankle boots, ran a straightener through her hair quickly to get the kinks of the school day out and applied light make-up. She picked up her black leather jacket and her bag, just in time when she heard two quick honks of a car horn. She picked up her keys and walked out, closing the door behind her. She walked down the porch steps and smiled at Charlie as she walked over, getting into the car.

Y/N and Charlie made their way to the town square, lined with shops and some restaurants. Deciding they were hungry too; they grabbed a quick bite to eat. Conversation over at the diner mainly consisted of work and minor things, because Y/N had a feeling Charlie wanted to talk about personal things over drinks. After they ate, they walked down the street and past a couple of dive bars, the loud music and chatter filtering out to the streets. She felt better knowing there was something going on in this town and that it wasn’t as sleepy as a place like Rhinebeck. Though Rhinebeck did have its own charms.

Y/N followed Charlie, arriving at the place where they sat at the bar. She and Charlie sat on the bar stools, the bartender immediately coming over to them.

“What can I get you, ladies?” he asked, smiling at them.

“Gin and tonic, please” Charlie replied, smiling back.

Y/N thought it over for a second before she replied. “A vodka martini.”

“Sure thing” he muttered before moving down the bar to mix the drinks.

Y/N and Charlie both took their jackets off, settling in. The bartender put their respective drinks in front of them and then went to serve other customers. Charlie picked up her glass and turned to Y/N.

“To surviving your first two weeks” she said, smiling.

“Well, thanks for making it easy for me to settle in” Y/N smiled back, clinking her glass against hers. “I really mean it. You and Cas have really helped me and supported me, so… thank you.”

“No need to thank” Charlie waved her off, taking a sip of her drink. “So… let’s get to the real reason we’re here…”

“Oh god” Y/N groaned.

“Oh yeah” Charlie smirked. “You like Dean.”

Y/N laughed a little to herself. She didn’t beat around the bush, this one.

“Yeah. I do” Y/N admitted, feeling slightly relieved to say it out loud. “At first, I really just thought it was a crush, something that would just go away after a couple of days. Then… then the butterflies stuck around and they’re not going away. Every time I see him… I just want to be near him. All the time. I know two weeks is way too soon to be feeling like this about someone I just met, but-” she explained but Charlie shook her head, cutting in.

“I don’t think the length of time matters to Oxytocin” Charlie advised her.

“I’m not quite at the love stage yet. In fact, I hope I never get there because that’s going to get me into trouble” Y/N countered.

“Which is unfortunate because I think you two would be adorable together” Charlie confessed, a guilty grin on her face.

“What?” Y/N scoffed, not quite believing what she just heard.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… the way he was looking at you, even just for a few seconds, I haven’t seen him like that in a really long time” Charlie said, a sad smile on her face.

“Oh god” Y/N groaned, her face dropping into her hands. “Charlie, what are you doing to me?!”

“I know, I know” Charlie shook her head, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t” Y/N shook her head, taking a large sip of her martini.

“I know, and I wasn’t telling you to go for it at all. I’m sorry” Charlie apologized, sipping her drink.

“It’s okay” Y/N reassured her, patting her back. Once they had both calmed down, Y/N turned to her friend. “Oh, they came over for dinner on Monday. I wanted to thank Dean about the car, and he came over with Lisa.”

“Really?” Charlie asked, a little shocked. “She actually came over?”

Y/N nodded. “Seemed like she didn’t want to be there, though. I mean, she was okay, she didn’t say much, which I don’t really care about, but she was kind of cold with Dean.”

Y/N looked at Charlie and saw that she looked like she wanted to say something but was contemplating whether she should or not.

“Okay, look…” Charlie started, trying to find her next words carefully. “I’m just going to tell you this, and it’s in no way saying that you have to do something, I just think you need to know, now that you’ve brought this up.”

“Okay…” Y/N didn’t know where she was going with this, but she listened anyway.

“Dean and Lisa have never been good for each other. They had a one-night thing, it was great for both of them, but that’s where it should’ve ended. Things were fine at the start, but once they got past the one-year mark, is when things started turning. Two years in, it got pretty bad. I mean, Dean doesn’t know for sure… but he thinks that she might’ve slept with someone else when she went home to visit her family. Things haven’t been right for a while now. Between not trusting her and them fighting at the drop of a hat all the time… it should’ve ended a year ago” Charlie explained.

“Wow” Y/N sighed, shaking her head.

“The only time we see him happy is when he’s at work or when he’s with us and she’s not around. Hell, I don’t particularly think she likes any of us, and we’ve tried really hard to include her. She never really wanted to do anything with us and would only come out with Dean if she wanted to prove things were okay. After a while, we just stopped trying to get her to like us” Charlie went on.

Y/N couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Charlie or Cas. “Seriously?”

Charlie nodded, a glint of anger behind her eyes. “She’s never encouraged him with the business, she’s always put him down for his choice in friends. She claims it’s to make him see that he’s better than them, but she’s just forcing him to think things he never would.”

There was a long silence between them, as Y/N processed everything Charlie just told her. She and Charlie were only just starting to become friends, so she could’ve easily said she didn’t believe her. She did, though. Charlie looked genuinely hurt, which meant everything was true.

“Fuck” Y/N whispered.

“Yeah” Charlie said, raising her eyebrows. “Dean’s generally a happy, care-free guy but for over a year now, I know he’s been hurting. He just hides it behind his larger than life personality. I just want to see him as his old self again. He thinks that if he stays, maybe things will just fix themselves, but they won’t. They haven’t yet and they certainly won’t the longer he stays in this relationship.”

“Wow” Y/N sighed again.

“So, that’s all I want to say” Charlie finished. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it, but I want you know the reality, and maybe not hate yourself so much for having the thoughts you’ve been having.”

Y/N nodded. Hearing it made her feel slightly better, but worse now that she knew what he was going through.

Another silence fell between them as Y/N thought about everything Charlie said.

“It scares me” Y/N looked down into her glass, shaking her head. “Feeling something so quickly for someone I just met. I’ve never felt a connection like this before. Not even with Ethan.”

“Ethan?” Charlie asked, confusion written on her face.

Y/N bit her lip. She didn’t realize she had never mentioned him to Charlie. “My ex.”

Charlie nodded slowly, immediately understanding. “I’m guessing things didn’t end well if you’re so far away from New York.”

“No, they did not” Y/N muttered after a sip of her drink. “He uh… he was really controlling of me. He’d tell me how I shouldn’t dress up and be too revealing, but then somehow… somehow, he’d tell me that I didn’t try hard enough either, that I wasn’t attractive enough. My job wasn’t good enough. I… I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was something that was a problem, no matter how much anyone told me it was. I thought he’d… he’d say the things he did because he just wanted me to be better, but it was to stroke his own ego.”

“Scumbag” Charlie muttered; her face morphed into anger.

“Yeah” Y/N laughed, bitterly. “I couldn’t see it until the night he hurt me. I thought he was doing those things because he loved me, but love isn’t making a person hate themselves to make yourself feel better.”

“You said he hurt you…” Charlie trailed off, worried that she’d uncover feelings that Y/N had buried.

“Just once, he pushed me and I ended up in hospital with a concussion” Y/N said, her words choking around the lump in her throat. “Once I was better, my parents helped me get my things out of his apartment. It wasn’t an easy transition; I kept seeing him everywhere. I tried to get a restraining order against him, but his family had money and probably paid someone off, so he never got charged with one. He eventually left with his new girlfriend, but that didn’t mean it got better for me. It took some time, a year of therapy before I left, but I realized that I wasn’t going to let anyone do that to me ever again. That place… I didn’t want to leave my family but there was too much of him there. So… now I’m here.”

“I’m glad you are. Y/N, you’re… shit, you’re fucking amazing and I hate that someone made you feel like you’re not” Charlie said, quietly, her eyes watery.

“I really know how to tell a story, huh?” Y/N jested, trying to lighten the mood again, as she blinked to keep her tears from falling.

“I’m glad you told me, that you could trust me with that” Charlie said, a small, empathetic smile playing at her lips.

“I’m sorry” Y/N shook her head, feeling awful at her sudden confession of her past. “I shouldn’t have brought it up when we’re here to have a good time.”

Charlie took her hand in hers. “No, please don’t apologize. I really am glad that you did. I’m so glad I know you.”

Y/N smiled at her. She knew Charlie would hear the story and wouldn’t pity her but be there for her and listen. She held Charlie’s hand, squeezing it. She was glad to have met the woman sitting in front of her.

“You know… Dean would never do that to you, right? To anyone” Charlie told her.

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. “I know. I don’t know how I know, but I just see him, and I know that he’d never do that.”

“And that’s what scares you, right? That he’d never do that, that you feel so much and that he’s with someone else?” Charlie asked.

Y/N looked at her and didn’t say anything. Her face said it all. Charlie just nodded, before taking the last sip of her drink.

“I need another drink” Y/N said with a small chuckle, having finished her martini.

Charlie just smiled as she flagged down the bartender.

Another drink turned into two more after that. Y/N understood what Charlie said clearly, but that didn’t mean she was going to take the words and run with them. Why risk everything on what could just be a crush? She was wrong, 2 weeks was absolutely a ridiculous amount of time to suddenly fall for someone. She was overthinking things.

She was thankful when Charlie dropped the subject of Dean, having said what she needed to about how she felt towards Lisa, knowing Y/N would interpret everything the way she needed to. She also felt a huge pressure lift off her chest when she told Charlie about what happened with Ethan. It had been a year since the break-up and since she had started therapy. Her last session before she left had left her feeling relieved. Coming to Lawrence had been the best decision, even with her situation with Dean. Charlie was amazing and was glad she spoke up and told someone who she really trusted.

They eventually moved onto talking Charlie and Dorothy and Y/N found the redhead incredibly cute in that moment, as she gushed about her girlfriend.

Y/N knew that once the fourth martini went down, she had to get home. She was well and truly drunk and all she wanted to do was sleep it off. Just forget them ever talking about Dean.

As they left the bar, she stumbled slightly as they walked down the road. She needed to get an Uber and be alone in her thoughts now, her mind reeling with their conversation but vodka, too.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” Charlie asked, concern all over her face.

Y/N chuckled as she shook her head. “I’m sure, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay” Charlie agreed, reluctantly. “Message me as soon as you get home.”

An Uber quickly pulled up a few moments after she called it, and Y/N got in. She smiled and waved at Charlie. “Thanks for tonight.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you Monday” Charlie smiled.

Y/N leaned back against the seat, looking out the window. She really didn’t need man drama while she settled into a new town. She had had enough of it back home in her previous relationship, that one almost ruining her mental state. She was still recovering, even if had been a year since they broke up. Memories of him and imagining him around town, even after he left, were what made her decide to leave too. The last thing she needed was to be with someone. That being said, someone could argue with her that it was time to move on and find something better, something more meaningful.

Well, that something would have to come from somewhere else because it sure as hell wasn’t going to come from Dean. As much as she was attracted to him, he was with someone. No matter how unhappy the relationship was. Her mind floated to something Charlie told her. That it was possible that Lisa cheated on Dean.

He was sweet and caring, nurturing and compassionate. Gorgeous as hell and insanely hilarious. Who could ever cheat on him? People had their flaws, but that didn’t mean you give up on a person. His flaws couldn’t be as bad as her ex’s.

The Uber pulled up outside her house. Y/N steadied herself as much as she could as she got out. The car pulling up caught the attention of Dean, however, as he was sitting on the front porch, beer in hand. He watched as Y/N stumbled up the stairs of her porch and tried to open the door to her house.

Dean put his beer down on the stoop and got up from the stairs, walking across the street. As he walked up her porch stairs, Y/N turned around and smiled at him, indicating to Dean that she was quite drunk.

“Dean” she slurred happily, her eyes sparkling.

He tried not to laugh as he walked over to her. “Doing okay there, sweetheart?”

“Sure am” she giggled in her drunken state. “Just trying to get my door open.”

Dean watched as she tried to put the key in but kept missing the keyhole. He stepped forward and took the key from her hand, putting it into the lock and opening the door with ease.

“Thanks” she beamed.

As she went to walk through the threshold, her foot caught the edge and she stumbled. With quick reflexes, Dean caught her arm and pulled her into his body.

“Whoa, Y/N” he exclaimed, cradling her to his body.

She let out a loud cackling laugh, completely unaware of her near injury. Knowing that this wasn’t going to end well if she kept at it by herself, Dean bent down and lifted her legs up as he cradled her body. He lifted her into his arms as he carried her into the house, trying not to dwell on how good she felt in his arms.

“Ooh” she gasped, as her arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re very strong, Dean.”

She couldn’t help but lean her head on his shoulder, the intoxicating scent of cologne driving her crazy.

He ignored that as he walked down the hallway and into her bedroom.

Dean gulped as he looked around, the realization that he shouldn’t be standing in her bedroom hitting him suddenly. He quickly walked to the bed and laid her down, watching her eyes flutter as the alcohol she had consumed took control.

“Have to… have to text Charlie” she mumbled, the alcohol making her sleepy.

Ah, so that’s who she went out with he thought as he took off her shoes and pulled the covers over her.

He picked up her bag and fished around quickly, finding her phone. He didn’t look in, knowing that a woman’s handbag had things in there he had no business seeing.

Y/N unlocked her phone and handed it to him, flinging her head back to her pillow.

Dean bit back a laugh as he messaged Charlie as Y/N.

Hey, made it home safe. Thanks for tonight.

He added that in because if she was this drunk, then clearly she had a great time with his friend. Who wouldn’t?

Dean placed her phone on the nightstand and was about to walk away when he heard her stir.

“You’re really sweet, Dean” she mumbled, only one eye looking up at him as her face was smooshed to her pillow. “Why can’t all guys be like you?”

Dean shook his head. She was really out of it. “I wouldn’t say that, Y/N. I’m not someone to be compared to.”

“I think you are” she said, a soft smile on her face. “I think you’re something special, Dean Winchester.”

A smile spread on his face, but it dropped quickly. She wouldn’t remember saying it in the morning, so it was best not to dwell on it.

“Goodnight, Y/N” he whispered.

“I could get used to you in my life” she whispered, as she drifted off into slumber.

Dean felt a pang in his heart at her words. She may have been drunk, but it had been a while since someone had something like that to him. He couldn’t let her words affect him like that, though. He was with someone else and he needed to make that work again.

Dean slowly walked out of her room and back down the hall. He took out his wallet and took out the Advil tablets he kept in there, leaving them by her coffee machine. He picked up a napkin and quickly scribbled a note on it, before leaving her house. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember all of that in the morning and they could avoid the awkwardness that would follow.

The sunlight from the windows streamed into Y/N’s room. It warmed the covers she was wrapped in, causing her to stir. She groaned as she lifted her head, feeling the heaviness of last night’s drinking session with Charlie. She sat in bed as she tried to recall what happened last night. Her eyes widened as she remembered, everything quickly rushing to her head.

Dean had helped her into the house. Dean had most likely helped her into bed. Dean had been in her bedroom.

She couldn’t remember if any words had been exchanged. Had she said anything that would cause her embarrassment?

Y/N slowly got out of bed and picked up her robe, wrapping it around herself. She picked up her phone and walked out of her bedroom, into the kitchen, as she needed coffee as soon as humanly possible. She looked at the time. It was 10 in the morning. She had really been knocked out last night. She walked over to her coffee machine and was about to start filling it, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

A slip of Advil tablets and a note laid next to the machine. She smiled as she picked up the note, scribbled in all-caps.

HOPE YOUR HEAD DOESN’T HATE YOU TOO MUCH IN THE MORNING.

-D

Her stomach flipped as she bit her lip, reading over the note again. She liked his handwriting. It said so much about him.

She quickly took the Advil before she made her coffee and breakfast, two eggs and a little bacon. You had to have bacon on a Saturday morning, especially if you were hungover. That’s what she felt.

The rest of her afternoon consisted of paying bills and doing some work for her classes, once her head was feeling slightly better. She made a mental note to actually go see a movie next week with Charlie. Maybe they could invite Cas’s girlfriend along, as she was dying to meet Meg. After doing her work for the day, she decided to do a little baking. Saturday afternoon baking was something she did often back home, and she wanted to keep that going here in her new house.

Y/N decided on making an apple pie, one of her favorites. As she got all the ingredients together, she decided to make two, wanting to take one over to Dean as a thank you for helping her last night. Hopefully he liked pie. She turned on one of her softer playlists, as cooking or baking needed some kind of music in the background and something soft was good for her head right now.

An hour later as The Lone Bellow graced her ears, she took out two beautifully golden pies from the oven. She put them on the kitchen bench and went to shower, having still been in the same clothes from last night.

Once she was freshened up, she walked out in dark blue skinny jeans, a white tank top and a pink and white plaid shirt over the top. She took a red and white checked cloth and wrapped it around one of the pies, making sure it stayed warm as she walked over. Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she shrugged on a light jacket to shield her from the light breeze. It was starting to get colder and she wondered what winter would be like here.

Y/N left her house and walked over to Dean and Lisa’s, pie in hand. She was a little nervous and hoped that Lisa wouldn’t be there, so that she could talk to Dean alone. She was slightly ashamed of herself; he was technically a parent of a child she was teaching, and he saw her drunk. She really hated herself for it and hoped that they could talk and come to an understanding.

She quickly walked up the porch steps and rang their doorbell. She waited patiently for a few seconds, before she rang the bell again. Again, she didn’t hear anyone coming for the door. Even the Impala wasn’t in the driveway. They had probably gone out as a family. As she walked back down the porch steps, she heard some music and clinking sounds coming from the back of the house. Wondering if maybe Dean was at home, she walked around the corner to their backyard, the sounds of Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam becoming louder as she got closer. The sight that greeted her caused her eyes to widen and her heart to beat wildly in her chest.

Dean was leaning over the engine of his car with the hood open. He was wearing blue jeans that hung on his hips in the most perfect way, highlighting his cute butt. His dark grey t-shirt defined his physique, the material stretching across his chest and biceps. His arms and face were covered in grease from the car, but that only added to the hotness he was showing at that point. When he turned around and noticed her, he smirked which just killed her dead on the spot.

“Hey, I didn’t hear ya coming out here” he said, walking over to her, turning the music down a little as he walked past his little radio.

She blinked a few times, trying to get out of the trance he put her in. “I rang the bell a few times but then I heard you out here.”

He nodded as he jerked his head towards the car. “Yeah, I gotta work on her from time to time, make sure she’s still runnin’ properly.”

“Well, she’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t want her to fade away either, if I was you” she smiled.

He smirked as he looked at his priced possession. “Dad would tear me a new one if I ever did.”

She laughed a little before a silence fell between them, only the sounds of the song being heard.

And the road becomes my bride And the road becomes my bride I have stripped of all but pride So in her I do confide And she keeps me satisfied Gives me all I need And with dust in throat I crave Only knowledge will I save To the game you stay a slave

Now was as good a time as to bring up what she needed to.

“Dean, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me last night” she started but he waved her off.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart” he smiled.

He really had to stop calling her that if she was ever going to get anywhere with this. If only he knew what that did to her.

“I know it might’ve felt like just a nice gesture, and it was, but… Dean, I’m really ashamed and I really, really hope you don’t see me differently now” she confessed.

Dean frowned, not sure what she meant. “Why would I do that?”

“It’s just that… I’m a teacher, and I’m supposed to be a certain way. You’re practically a parent to a child in my class, and you shouldn’t be seeing me like that, like how I was last night-” she rambled but the feel of his hands on her shoulders stopped her.

“Y/N, it’s really okay. I’d never tell anyone about that. I mean, shit. You gotta let loose once and a while, too. Maybe someone else would judge you for that, but I never would” he told her, his voice calming her.

“But-” Dean shook his head when she protested.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s fine. That’s just between you and me. Okay?” he reassured her.

She sighed in relief. “Okay.”

“Good” he winked at her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked down, trying not to think about that wink.

“It’s just… I didn’t say anything stupid to you, did I? If I did, I’m so sorry” she apologized.

Dean remembered everything she said last night. It had kept him up for an hour and a half as her words circled around in his thoughts.

“Nope” he lied. “Though you did mutter something about finding Christopher Walken sexy.”

Y/N eyes widened. “What?!”

Dean guffawed loudly, shaking his head. “Oh my god, you should see your face.”

She reached up and smacked his arm, causing a small “ah” to leave his lips but he kept on laughing, as he rubbed his arm.

“You’re such an ass” she shook her head, trying not to smile at the sound of his laugh.

His laughter died down as he composed himself. “That was too easy.”

“I don’t think you deserve this pie now” she gestured to the wrapped-up dish in her hands.

His eyes lit up as he looked between her and what was in her hand. “Pie? You-you made me a pie?”

“Yeah, I did, as a thank you for last night but I don’t think I want to give it to you now” she pretended to be upset, riling him up.

“Y/N…” he said, looking her right in the eyes. “Please.”

Jesus. She was putty in his hands. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t do this with him. In that moment, all she could do was hand over the pie with a polite smile. She couldn’t let him think that she was wanted to keep going on this banter of theirs. That was dangerous and she wouldn’t be that person.

She quickly handed it over. “Since you asked so nice.”

His eyes and smile grew brighter, as he giddily lifted one corner of the cloth and smelt the cinnamon and apple.

His eyes rolled back as he moaned lightly. “Damn, that smells amazing. Thanks, Y/N. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome” she said, laughing slightly at his reaction. “I take it you like pie.”

“Like?” he scoffed. “More like obsessed.”

“Good to know” she giggled as she watched him take another whiff. “I better go.”

“Oh, before I forget. Your car should be ready on Wednesday” he told her.

She smiled with a sigh of relief. “Amazing, thank you.”

“So, I’ll see you at the shop on Wednesday” he said, his thumbs rubbing over the cloth around the pie. He was itching to dig into it.

“Yeah” she nodded. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye. Thanks again” he lifted the pie as he thanked her.

Y/N smiled as she walked away, rounding the corner and disappearing.

As soon as she was gone, Dean walked into the house and put the pie on the kitchen counter. He washed his hands and wiped them down, his mouth salivating as the delicious scent of the pie wafted through the kitchen. He opened a drawer and took out a fork, unfolding the cloth from around the pie dish. He licked his lips he looked down at it, stabbing his fork in and digging up a big bite. He blew on it and shoved it into his mouth. The flavors exploded as he closed his eyes in delight.

“Fuck, that’s good” he mumbled to himself as he swallowed down the mouthful.

It had to be the best pie he had ever had, not including his mother’s because that wasn’t a fair fight. Did Y/N really have to be so perfect that she made an amazing pie, too? How the hell was he supposed to stay away from her if she did things like this?

You just have to he thought as he wrapped the pie up again, for later. You can’t keep doing what you’re doing with her.

If this was ever going to remain friendly, then he had to stop turning on the charm, even if that was second nature to him. She made everything so easy. Things hadn’t been easy for him in a long time.

Between what she said in her drunken state to him (she may have been drunk, but she still said it. So, it had to be true, right?) and now bringing him this pie, it was getting harder to resist her. He knew was starting to feel something for her, even if it had only been a couple of weeks. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time he was with Lisa. Once they actually got together, the spark fizzled out quite quickly as comfortability took over. Now, even that wasn’t there.

Maybe it’s only meant to be comfortable. Maybe the spark isn’t meant to stay as you get comfortable with your partner. Though, that didn’t seem right to him. If you were really in love, then wouldn’t the spark stick around?

He had never been more confused about what to do, but he knew what the right thing was. It was to stick it out with Lisa, and that’s what he needed to do.

No matter how much he thought about Y/N.

As Y/N walked towards her house, her smiled dropped. What happened back there wasn’t just a friendly neighborhood chat. That was more. Much more. That was something two people did when they’re getting to know each other as more than friends. That was banter and flirting and messing around with each other with silly jokes. There were looks that made her tingle all over, and polite words that comforted her.

He made everything so easy. What she was beginning to feel for him was so much more than what she had felt before. This feeling wasn’t even there the first time she met Ethan. She knew she was fooling herself when she said this was just a little crush.

As she entered her house, Y/N was determined.

Dean Winchester was not going to have an effect on her.

He just wasn’t.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @akshi8278​ @hobby27​ @michellethetvaddict​ @spngirl05​ @kyjey​ @halesandy​ @440mxs-wife​ @stoneyggirl​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @wonder-cole​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @redbarn1995​ @marianita195​ @babypink224221​ @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester​ @perpetualabsurdity​

[yikesharringrove]

I'm thinking about Steve is forced to work for his father because he can't get in any college. So he's in the company as his secretary, and he is treated like shit. So he's going to submit some papers for his father's Boss Billy Hargrove and when he sees the Man he can only think about the words Power and Dominate

We’re gonna combine some schtuff.

Anonymous asked:

Hmm What about Steve meeting Billy who’s this rich business man because he wants to work for him. There’s a lot of sexual tension when they’re talking and then they end up fucking 👀👀👀 (++ Daddy Kink)

This is modern, but it’s not totally mentioned.

On ao3 too.

Porn

“Steven, I need you to take these up to the eighth floor.”

Mr. Harrington dropped a stack of files on the corner of his desk.

After Steve didn’t get into college, his father pretty much forced him to work at his office. He had, of course, downgraded the original offer, moved him from Company Representative to fourth-floor secretary.

He has to file things, take messages, and do everything for the entire floor.

By the time he looked up from the message he was taking, his father was already down the hall, halfway to his office.

“No problem, sir.” He huffed, picking up the stack of files, heading to the elevator.

The eighth floor was the executive floor, where the bosses of the bosses were.

It was clean, and quiet, the woman in the desk positioned the same way was smiling prettily at him.

“Can I help you?”

“I have these files from the fourth-floor form Mr. Harrington for, uh,” He looked at the post-it on top of the manila folder. “Mr. Hargrove?”

“Third door on your left.” Steve nodded, hefting the stack to the corner office, the big one. He had to shuffle awkwardly to knock on the door.

“Come in.” He pushed the door, nearly dropping the files in the process.

He had to shuffle with them to get them back in his arms before looking up.

His breath hitched when he saw the Mr. Hargrove.

He was in a bespoke suit, a dark sleet grey over a crisp white shirt, a dark red tie. His chest was broad, his arms thick. His hair was short, but curly and wild. But his eyes are what truly got Steve, a gorgeous bright blue.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Steve Harrington. I have, I have the files you requested from Mr. Harrington?”

Hargrove smiled at him, standing up and gesturing at the chair on the other side of his desk, relieving Steve of the stack of files.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh? That you’re father who works down on four?”

“Yes, sir. I’m the fourth-floor secretary.” Billy raised his eyebrows at him, nodding slowly as he settled on the edge of the desk, facing Steve.

Steve was staring at his thighs, so fucking thick in his slacks. Steve wanted them to crush his fucking head. Hargrove leaned forward over Steve, placing each hand on either armrest.

“See something you like?” Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked back at Billy’s face.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hargrove, sir-”

“Please, call me Billy.” He fucking purred it at him, made a chill run down Steve’s spine. He smirked, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Why’d he put you at a desk? If he was gonna pull strings for his son, you’d think he’d make you a higher up.”

Steve looked down at the floor, he could feel his face getting hot.

“I was supposed to be a rep but I, I didn’t go to, to college so this was the best he could do.” Billy pulled back, frowning.

“You don’t need college to be a rep. You just need to be good at schmoozing. Kissing ass. You’re pretty enough to make it really work for you.” Steve glanced back up at him as he went around his desk, filling out a memo. “You’re under me now. I want you up on eight, you’re gonna start repping.” He pulled it off the pad with a flurry, heading out to give it to the floor eight secretary.

Steve had no idea what in the fuck had just happened.

“Your father should be getting that soon. Let me take you out to lunch. Celebrate your big promotion.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think I understand.”

“I just promoted you. You’ll report directly to me now, but you’re a representative, gonna be out making connections.” Steve just blinked.

“But, why?”

“I like you. I can see potential.”

Billy took him to some nice place a block down from their building, a place with a separate menu for all the fancy scotch they had. Billy tried two, Steve got a lemonade.

Lunch was nice. The food was excellent, and Billy was wonderful company, would tell Steve you’ve GOT to try this and feed him bites of his own food from his own fork. Steve was hot under the collar the entire meal.

As Steve transitioned to working under Billy, their lunches remained consistent, meeting up each day unless one of them had an important client they were meeting with.

Steve was okay at his job, could chit-chat well with potential clients, did a good job of getting them interested enough to meet with someone higher up to hammer out details. He made connections, but he had no passion for the work, wasn’t all that savvy at it, and straight-up wasn’t even totally sure what the company even did.

But he stuck it out, wanted to be able to see Billy every day, to tell him what he’d accomplished during the week, have Billy smile at him and tell him he was good.

Steve may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew enough about himself to understand a few things: 1. When a hot, beefy guy tells him he’s good, that really fuckin’ does it for him. 2. He wants said hot, beefy guy to tell him he’s good while doing, other activities. 3. He has serious daddy issues.

He realized the third one when he woke up one night in his small apartment, from a dream in which Billy was just like, taking care of him, was holding him and telling him that’s he’s precious, sat him down and reminded him to eat, made sure he drank water. There was literally nothing sexual about it, but he still woke up sweaty and panting, the word daddy on his lips.

And then came the Christmas party.

It was for the whole company, to celebrate the holiday, and a booming fiscal year, a reward for a job well done, an incentive for a continued job well done.

Steve was drunk.

He had necked about five lemon drop shots early on, had topped it all off with a few beers and more cocktails.

He was in Billy’s office, trying to get his shit together enough to call someone to give him a ride home when he heard the door open.

“You okay in here?” Billy was smirking, leaned against the wall next to the closed door, smirking as Steve’s head lolled over on the back of the chair.

“Heyy, Bill!” Steve giggled to himself. “How's your Christmas party?”

“It’s not looking quite as fun as yours in here.” He dropped into the chair next to Steve’s. “You need a lift home?”

Steve’s eyes were big as he looked at him.

“Yeah. I would like that.”

Billy’s car was sleek, vintage, and gorgeous. Steve was sitting low in the passenger seat as Billy navigated the way to Steve’s little apartment.

“You wanna come in?” Billy had to help Steve walk to the door of his apartment, had to help him with the keys at each door. “I want you to come in.” Steve slapped at the wall a few times before finding the light switch.

Billy smiled at the cozy little studio, the soft bed in the corner, covered in pillows and blankets, the squashy couch against one wall, the fridge covered in pictures and letters.

Steve was struggling out of his nice clothes, wiggling his way awkwardly into pajamas, slamming into the bathroom to poke at his eyes until he got his contacts out. When he returned, in a too-big t-shirt, soft little shots, and these big amazing glasses, Billy was very nearly in love.

“You want a drink?” Steve opened the fridge. Billy peered inside over his shoulder, seeing a six-pack of beer, a bottle of mustard, one-half stick of butter and an avocado.

“What in the hell? Aren’t you like a grown-up? What is this fridge?” Steve just turned around, looking at him blankly.

“You do know I’m like, barely twenty, right?” Billy blinked.

“You said that you didn’t go to college.”

“I meant I didn’t get in to college. I really fucking stupid.” He grabbed a beer, settling himself on the couch, tugging a blanket onto his lap. It looked hand made.

“You’re not stupid at all. I work with you, I know how smart you are.” Steve just shrugged. Billy joined him on the sofa, taking the beer out of his hand and taking a drink. “But you’re seriously that young?”

“Yeah, turned twenty like, a week and a half ago.” Billy choked on his beer.

“I didn’t even know it was your birthday? Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Steve shrugged.

“Didn’t want to make a big deal outta the whole thing. My dad forgot about it, so why cause a stink.”

“Your dad sucks. I’ve worked with him for the past six years, and I can’t fucking stand him, can’t really imagine him as a parent.”

“That’s cause he wasn’t. He and my mom would leave me alone in the house most of the time. She would travel and he had an apartment out here by the office. The house was in a small town about two hours south. He would come home every few months, tell me I was stupid, and an embarrassment to him, and be on his merry way.”

“I’m sorry, Stevie. My old man was really awful too. Second I graduated high school, I was outta there. Left him a letter telling him that he’s an awful person, that I’m a big ol’ homo, and that I never want to see him ever again. It was fucking amazing.” Steve had inched closer to him on the couch, his knees pressed into Billy’s thigh under his blanket.

“I wish I could do that. Just tell him every way he’s been a horrible father, that I don’t want to work at his stupid company.”

“Then quit.” Steve gave him a Look. “I’m serious. If you don’t like it, then what’s the point?”

“I need money. Fucking look at this place. My dad cut me off when I didn’t get into college, said my salary was the only money he would be giving me anymore. I’m fucking broke.” Steve sniffed.

Billy reached up, stroking his jaw with one hand.

“I’m so sorry he treats you the way he does. You’re so precious, deserve the fucking world.” It sounded like Steve’s fucking dream, the one with Billy looking at him softly, taking sweet care of him.

Steve leaned forward, catching Billy’s lips with his own, keeping it slow and gentle.

“Stay. Stay the night with me.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Baby. You’re drunk.”

“Don’t wanna have sex yet, just wanna sleep with you. You look like you’d be a good cuddler.” Billy laughed lightly into the kiss.

“I’m an excellent cuddler, Pretty Boy.”

Steve slept so fucking peacefully wrapped up in Billy’s strong arms, the heat of his body pressed against his back.

He woke up to the smell of coffee, the sizzle of eggs and bacon. Billy was standing over the stove, wearing stolen clothes and cooking him breakfast. Steve plastered himself to his back, pressing a kiss to Billy’s neck.

“Where’d you get all this?”

“I went to the grocery store. Because I’m a grown-up.” Steve bit his neck lightly in retaliation.

“I’m kind of a grown-up.”

“Yeah, but you just need to be taken care of a little bit more.” Steve went red as he loaded up his plate, eating quickly. “I could do that. Take care of you.”

Steve looked up at him, mouth full of scrambled eggs, open just a little bit.

“What do you mean?”

“I wanna take care of you, Stevie.” Billy used one foot to move Steve’s chair, scooted it until Steve was facing him, leaning down into his space. “You ever thought about findin’ yourself a daddy?”

Steve’s face began going hot. Of course he had fuckin’ thought about it, ran his fingers over his cock while choking out Daddy to images of faceless, Billy-esque men in his fantasies.

He nodded.

Billy grinned, wide and sharp.

“Get undressed. Get on the bed.” Steve stood on shaky legs, feeling like a newborn deer, just learning to walk. He stripped slowly, never once breaking eye contact with Billy. He sat on the bed, legs spread a little, arms by his sides. “Do you want this, Steve?” Billy was moving slowly towards him, had turned off the stove as he left it behind. “You can say no at any time. Can tell me to fuck off and I won’t mind, won’t judge. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Billy was standing in front of Steve, placed two fingers on his chest, pushing him back slowly.

“Pick a word. One you’ll only say if you want me to stop. Tell me your word.” Steve’s eyes darted around the apartment.

“Tangerine. Tangerine is my word, Daddy.” Billy leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Now let Daddy take care of you.” Steve was spread on the bed, his legs open to Billy. “Good boy.” Steve whimpered. Billy smiled at him. “You like that, Baby? Like being a good boy for Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy. Wanna be good.” Billy smiled. He settled on his knees between Steve’s legs, leaning forward to lick up Steve’s cock. He flicked his tongue against the slit, making Steve’s breath hitch.

He cried out when Billy took him into his mouth. He sank down all the way to the root, Steve’s cock bumping against the back of his throat. He pulled off, leaning down to mouth at Steve’s balls, making his back arch.

Steve threaded one hand into Billy’s hair, just holding onto the soft curls, free of the usual product he used to tame them in the office.

Billy was looking at him through his long lashes, moved his attention back to his cock, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, curling his tongue along the underside of his cock.

His mouth was hot, was velvet soft around Steve. He pressed until his nose was in the hair on Steve’s pelvis, he didn’t even choke as his cock slid into his throat.

“Daddy, Daddy I’m gonna cum.” Steve tugged softly on his hair, whining and writhing and he drew closer and closer.

His back arched as he choked, cumming in Billy’s mouth, gripping his hair roughly.

“Fuck, Daddy. Made me feel so good.” Billy pulled off his cock, pet up Steve’s shaking thighs as he smiled up at him.

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 11 paragraph iv

What I somehow hadn't expected was a city prinked-up for Christmas: fir boughs and tinsel, starburst ornaments in the shop windows and a cold stiff wind coming off the canals and fires and festival stalls and people on bicycles, toys and color and candy, holiday confusion and gleam. Little dogs, little children, gossipers and watchers and package bearers, clowns in top hats and military greatcoats and a little dancing jester in Christmas clothes à la Avercamp. I still wasn’t quite awake and none of it seemed to have any more reality than the fleeting dream of Pippa I’d had on the plane where I’d spotted her in a park with many tall fountains and a Saturn-ringed planet hanging low and majestic in the sky. “Nieuwmarkt,” said Gyuri as we came out on a big circle with a turreted fairytale castle and—around it—an open air market, cut evergreens lightly frosted with snow, mittened vendors stamping, an illustration from a children’s book. “Ho, ho, ho.” “Always a lot of police here,” said Boris gloomily, sliding into the door as Gyuri took the turn hard. For various reasons I was apprehensive about accommodations, and ready to make my excuses in case they involved anything like squatter conditions or sleeping on the floor. Luckily Myriam had booked me a hotel in a canal house in the old part of town. I dropped my bags, locked the cash in the safe, and went back out to the street to meet Boris. Gyuri had gone to park the car. He dropped his cigarette on the cobblestones and dashed it under his heel. “I’ve not been here in a while,” he said, his breath coming out white, as he looked round appraisingly at the soberly clad pedestrians on the street. “My flat in Antwerp—well it is for business reasons I am in Antwerp. Beautiful city too—same sea clouds, same light. Someday we will go there. But I always forget how much I like it here as well. Starving to death, you?” he said, punching me in the arm. “Mind walking a bit?” Down narrow streets we wandered, damp alleys too narrow for cars, foggy little ochreous shops filled with old prints and dusty porcelains. Canal footbridge: brown water, lonely brown duck. Plastic cup half-submerged and bobbing. The wind was raw and wet with blown pinpricks of sleet and the space around us felt close and dank. Didn’t the canals freeze in winter? I asked. “Yes, but—” wiping his nose—“global warming, I suppose.” In his overcoat and suit from the previous night’s party he looked both completely out of place and completely at home. “What a dog’s weather! Shall we duck in here? Do you think?” The dirty canal-side bar, or café, or whatever it was, had dark wood and a maritime theme, oars and life preservers, red candles burning low even in the daytime and a desolate foggy feel. Smoky, muggy light. Water droplets condensed on the inside of the windowpane. No menus. In back was a chalkboard scrawled with foods unintelligible to me: dagsoep, draadjesvlees, kapucijnerschotel, zuurkoolstamppot. “Here, let me order,” said Boris, and proceeded to do so, surprisingly, in Dutch. What arrived was a typically Boris meal of beer, bread, sausages, and potatoes with pork and sauerkraut. Boris—happily gobbling—was reminiscing about his first and only attempt to ride a bicycle in the city (wipeout, disaster) and also how much he enjoyed the new herring in Amsterdam, which fortunately wasn’t in season since apparently you ate it by holding it up by the tail fin and dangling it down into your mouth, but I was too disoriented by my surroundings to listen very closely and with almost painfully heightened senses I stirred at the potato mess with my fork and felt the strangeness of the city pressing in all around me, smells of tobacco and malt and nutmeg, café walls the melancholy brown of an old leather-bound book and then beyond, dark passages and brackish water lapping, low skies and old buildings all leaning against each other with a moody, poetic, edgeof-destruction feel, the cobblestoned loneliness of a city that felt—to me, anyway—like a place where you might come to let the water close over your head.

Before long Gyuri joined us, red-cheeked and breathless. “Parking—bit of a problem here,” he said. “Sorry.” He extended his hand to me. “Glad to see you!” he said, embracing me with a genuine-seeming warmth that startled me, as if we were old friends long separated. “Everything is okay?” Boris, on his second pint by now, was holding forth a bit about Horst. “I do not know why he does not move to Amsterdam,” he said, gnawing happily on a hunk of sausage. “Constantly he complains about New York! Hate hate hate! And all the holy while—” waving a hand at the canal outside the fogged window—“everything he loves is here. Even the language is same as his. If he really wanted to be happy in the world, Horst? To have any kind of joyful or happy life? He should pay twenty grand to go back to his rapid detox place and then come here and smoke Buddha Haze and stand in a museum all day long.” “Horst—?” I said, looking from one to the other. “Sorry?” “Does he know you’re here?” Boris gulped his beer. “Horst? No. He does not. It is going to be much, much easier if Horst learns about all this after. Because—” licking a dab of mustard off his finger—“my suspicions are correct. Fucking Sascha who stole the thing. Ulrika’s brother,” he said urgently. “Which with Ulrika puts Horst in bad position. So—much better if I take care of it on my own, see? I am doing Horst a favor this way—favor he won’t forget.” “What do you mean, ‘take care of it’?” Boris sighed. “It—” he looked around to make sure no one was listening, even though we were the only people in the place—”well, it is complicated, I could talk for three days, but I can also tell you in three lines what has happened.” “Does Ulrika know he took it?” Rolled eyes. “Search me.” A phrase I had taught Boris years ago, horsing around at my house after school. Search me. Cut it out. Smoky desert twilight, shades drawn. Make up your mind. Let’s face it. No way. Same shadows on his face. Gold light glinting off the doors by the pool. “I think Sascha would have to be very stupid to tell Ulrika,” said Gyuri, with a worried expression on his face. “I don’t know what Ulrika knows or does not know. Has no relevance. She has loyalty to her brother over Horst, as she has shown many and many times over. You would think—” grandly signalling the waitress to bring Gyuri a pint —“you would think Sascha had sense to sit on it for a while, at least! But no. He can’t get a loan on it in Hamburg or Frankfurt because of Horst—because Horst would hear of it in one second. So he has brought it here.” “Well look, if you know who has it we should just call the police.” The silence, and blank looks that followed this, were as if I’d produced a can of gasoline and suggested lighting ourselves on fire. “Well, I mean,” I said defensively, after the waitress had arrived with Gyuri’s beer, set it down, left again, and neither Gyuri nor Boris had spoken a word. “Isn’t that the safest? And easiest? If the cops recover it and you have nothing to do with it?” Ding of a bicycle bell, woman clattering by on the sidewalk, rattle of spokes, witchy black cape flying behind. “Because—” glancing between them—“when you think of what this picture has gone through—what it must have gone through—I don’t know if you understand, Boris, how much care has to be taken even to ship a painting? Just to pack it properly? Why take any chances?” “This is my feeling exactly.” “An anonymous call. To the art-crimes people. They’re not like the normal cops—no connections with the normal cops—the picture is all they care about. They’ll know what to do.”

Boris leaned back in his chair. He looked around. Then he looked at me. “No,” he said. “That is not a good idea.” His tone was that of someone addressing a five year old. “And, do you want to know why?” “Think about it. It’s the easiest way. You wouldn’t have to do a thing.” Boris set his beer glass down carefully. “They’d have the best chance of getting it back unharmed. Also, if I do it —if I call them—shit, I could have Hobie call them—” hands to head—“any way you look at it, you wouldn’t be putting yourselves at risk. That is to say”—I was too tired, disoriented; two pairs of Dremel-drill eyes, I couldn’t think—“if I did it, or someone else not a part of your, um, organization—” Boris let out a shout of laughter. “Organization? Well—” shaking his head so vigorously the hair fell in his eyes—“I suppose we count as organization, of sorts, since we are three or more—! But we are not very large or very organized as you can see.” “You should eat something,” said Gyuri to me, in the tense pause that followed, looking at my untouched plate of pork and potato. “He should eat,” he said to Boris. “Tell him to eat.” “Let him starve if he wants. Anyway,” said Boris, grabbing a chunk of pork off my plate and popping it in his mouth— “One call. I’ll do it.” “No,” said Boris, glowering suddenly and pushing back in his chair. “You will not. No, no, fuck you, shut up, you won’t,” he said, lifting his chin aggressively when I tried to talk over him—Gyuri’s hand on my wrist very suddenly, a touch I knew very well, the old forgotten Vegas language of when my dad was in the kitchen ranting about whose house it was? and who paid for what?— “And, and,” said Boris imperiously, taking advantage of a lull in my response he was not expecting, “I want you to stop talking this stupid ‘call’ business right away. ‘Call, call,’ ” he said, when he got no answer from me, waving his hand back and forth ridiculously in the air as if “call” were some absurd kiddie word that meant ‘unicorn’ or ‘fairyland.’ “I know you are trying to help but this is not helpful suggestion on your part. So forget it. No more ‘call.’ Anyway,” he said amiably, pouring part of his own beer into my halfempty glass. “As I was explaining to you. Since Sascha is in so big hurry? Is he thinking clearly? Is he playing more than one, or maybe two moves ahead? No. Sascha is out of towner. His connections here are poisonous to him. He needs money. And he is working so hard to stay clear of Horst that he has wandered smack into me.” I said nothing. It would be easy enough to phone the police myself. There was no reason to involve Boris or Gyuri at all. “Amazing stroke of luck, no? And our friend the Georgian—very rich man, but so far from Horst’s world and so far from art collector, he did not even know of picture by name. Just a bird—little yellow bird. But Cherry believes he is telling the truth that he saw it. Very powerful guy in terms of real estate? Here and in Antwerp? Plenty of paper and father to Cherry almost, but not person of great education if you understand me.” “Where is it now?” Boris rubbed his nose vigorously. “I do not know. They are not going to tell us that, are they? But Vitya has got in touch to say he knows of a buyer. And a meeting has been set up.” “Where?” “Not settled yet. They have already changed the location half a dozen times. Paranoid,” he said, making a screw-loose gesture at the side of his head with his hand. “They may make us wait a day or two. We may know only an hour before.” “Cherry,” I said, and stopped. Vitya was short for Cherry’s Russian name, Viktor—Victor, the Anglicized version—but Cherry was only a nickname and I didn’t know a thing about Sascha: not his age, not his surname, not what he looked like, nothing at all except that he was Ulrika’s brother—and even this was uncertain in the literal sense, given how loosely Boris threw around the word.

Boris sucked a bit of grease off his thumb. “My idea was—set up something at your hotel. You know, you, American, big shot, interested in the picture. They”—he lowered his voice as the waitress switched his empty pint for a full one, Gyuri nodding politely, leaning in—“they would come to your room. That’s how is done usually. All very businesslike. But”—minimal shrug—“they are new at this, and paranoid. They want to call their own location. “Which is?” “Don’t know yet! Didn’t I just say? They keep changing their mind. If they want us to wait—we wait. We have to let them think they are boss. Now, sorry,” he said, stretching and yawning, rubbing a dark-circled eye with a fingertip, “I am tired! Want a nap!” He turned and said something to Gyuri in Ukrainian, and then turned back to me. “Sorry,” he said, leaning in and slinging his arm around my shoulder. “You can find your way back to your hotel?” I tried to disengage myself without seeming to. “Right. Where are you staying?” “Girlfriend’s flat—Zeedijk.” “Near Zeedijk,” said Gyuri, rising purposefully, with a polite and vaguely military air. “Chinese quarter of the old times.” “What’s the address?” “Cannot remember. You know me. I cannot remember addresses in my head and like that. But—” Boris tapped his pocket—“your hotel.” “Right.” Back in Vegas, if we ever got separated—running from the mall cops, pockets full of stolen gift cards—my house was always the rendezvous point. “So—I’ll meet you back there. And you have my phone number, and I have yours. Will call you when I know something more. Now—” slapping me on the back of the head—“stop worrying, Potter! Don’t stand there and look so unhappy! If we lose, we win, and if we win, we win! Everything is good! You know which way to go to get back, don’t you? Just up this way, and left when you get to the Singel. Yes, there. We will speak soon.”

[reggiejworkshop]

Animaniacs: The Trip (part 2)

It was in the middle of the morning as the beautiful sun shone directly over the Warner Bros studio in Burbank. Everyone was out and about, enjoying the day. However, three people were not taking advantage of this.

"Oh, here it comes!" Yakko groaned.

Both Wakko and Dot winced as they heard their brother heave for the third time in a row. They would have been more sympathetic had his puking not sounded like the Tasmanian Devil trying to sing death metal. The sound almost made them want to puke again for themselves. Yakko finally came out of the bathroom, a wave of relief spread across his face.

"Who thought it looked better going out than in?" he groaned.

"I don't get it, I thought it would have tasted a lot better than that" Wakko said, confused that he made a food item that he himself couldn't stomach. He along with the rest of his siblings' mouths were still burning.

"Well, now that nightmare is over, what should we do today sibs?" Yakko asked with a peppy tone.

"Let's go see what our favorite psychiatrist is up too." Dot proposed.

"Good idea" Wakko added.

The Warners climbed down the tower. The bright rays from the mole tipped sun beaming down upon them. They reached Dr. Scratchensniff's office in no time at all.

"Oh, Scratchy!" the trio chirped. They stood outside the door to his office, waiting for him to shoo him away. But nothing came.

"Scratchensniff?" Wakko asked. He slowly opened the door. The person they were looking for was not here, instead, another person was lounging in the sofa, barefoot.

"Oh, hello boys…" she replied.

"Hello, Nurse!" Wakko and Yakko whistled.

"Boys," Dot said, rolling her eyes. The trio watched the dainty nurse get up from the sofa, stumbling on her bare feet. Both brothers' hearts began to beat as her curvaceous body loomed up above them. Hands on her hips, she stared down at them.

"Uh, Nurse did you happen to see where Scratchensniff went?" Wakko asked, slightly taken off guard by her posture. Nurse knelt down to his height with a coy grin.

"No, but I just happened finally see how cute you really are," she said slowly with a husky voice. She puckered her lips. "Well, go on"

Wakko eyes widened with disbelief before shooting a glance at his confused siblings. Without a moment too soon, he puckered his own lips and slowly leaned in. The middle sibling gleefully prepared for what would be up to this point the best Friday morning ever!

BURP!

The blast of her mustard gas smacked Wakko down to the floor, sending Dot into a fit of laughter.

"Oops, must be the beans," Nurse said, as she bent down over him. She barely noticed her lower posterity was facing the other Warner, and that particular Warner was enjoying the view.

"Um, Nurse you sure your feeling alright?" Yakko asked, trying his best to see past her bulbous rear. She cocked her head to look back at him.

"Were you staring at my ass?" she snapped with an odd mischievous grin. Yakkos face dropped, he had not expected that response.

"Uhh…. Not exactly"

"Oh I think you were"

"Nah, I think I wasn't. Whoa!"

Yakko stopped mid-sentence when Nurse grabbed him by the hand and friggin threw him into the sofa. After a dizzy spell of stars and drumsticks, Yakko looked up to see the nurse's butt looming right above his head.

"Would you like to get a closer look?"

"Yes, Wait I mean no!" Yakko began to protest before she planted it right onto his face. He flailed his arms helplessly as he was losing air. Unfortunately, that would be the least of his problems.

BLLLLRRTTTT!

The loud foghorn-like blast rumbled the sofa underneath her. Yakkos body went limp as Nuse finished giving him the royal Dutch oven. She got up and fanned sewage scented vapors towards the siblings.

"Whew, that was a good one!" Nurse complimented herself. Both siblings reeled in disgust.

"When did this turn into a Ren and Stimpy cartoon?!" Dot whined. Green faced and ready to puke, Yakko crawled away from the smoldering sofa and right towards his siblings.

"Ugh, now I know how Smollett's career feels like now…" he uttered breathlessly.

"So, boys…" Nurse said. She pinched the tip of the tongue with her teeth and scratched underneath her armpits "What do you say we do some time?"

"Okay, first off that sentence made no sense, second of all what's up with you today?" Yakko asked, genuinely concerned.

"Is that time of the month?" Wakko whispered.

"Come on Yakko. I thought you wanted me. And I want you too" Nurse cooed, continuing to advance towards them.

"Uh, Aren't you coming on a little too strong so soon? After all, according to Ruegger I'm only 14!" Yakko protested.

"That's never stopped you before…" Dot remarked.

"Not helping Dot!"

"That's okay, age is nothing but a number. I can have fun with all three of you" Nurse said, staring them down with a lustful gaze. She whipped out a stick red lipsticks and smeared the gooey stick all over her luscious lips.

Faster than you can 'Goodbye Nurse!' the Warners vanished out of sight. They stood outside the psychiatrists building, trying to ignore the moaning coming from inside.

" I think we lost her!" Dot uttered breathlessly.

"Whew, I am a man of the pursuit but this isn't what I had in mind!" Yakko complained.

"No kidding! That wasn't the Nurse we know!"

"I wish Scratchy were here, hed know what's going on!" Wakko added.

A loud ringing came from Dot's Ipad on the ground. She picked it up to answer it when she froze in realization.

"When did I get an Ipad?" Dot asked herself.

"Just answer it," Yakko told her, ignoring the plot hole.

Dot pressed the device and suddenly the three of them were seeing their favorite psychiatrist on screen in a Skype connection.

"Hello, there kids" Scratchy greeted. His large gourd-shaped head took up most of the screen.

"Scratchensniff, your assistant has turned into a blond-haired Pepe le Pew! What should we do?" Yakko asked with impatience. The psychiatrist groaned with agitation.

"I don't know, maybe it's her time of…" An indistinct voice came from behind him, cutting him off. "Be right there Serena!"

It was here the Warner's noticed that Scratchy didn't appear to have a shirt on.

"Uhh… Scratchy, what's going on over there?" Yakko arched an eyebrow at the screen.

"Yakko, I was actually very busy with a session right now" Scratchy replied. Right as he said that a voluptuous bronze skinned harlot passed by in the background. "An in-depth session. Bye"

The IPad shut off with an electronic sizzle.

"I don't believe it! Scratchensniff just blew us off!" Dot said incredulously.

"Hey, you kids!" A rough voice yelled at them. The Warners turned around, completely surprised to see it came from Ralph. The fatback guard came marching towards them, his gut jiggling over his ammo belt with each stride.

"What the hell are you kids doing out of the tower?!"

The Warners were barely fazed by his hostile demeanor as they simply walked past him. Yakko greeted him with a cheer.

"Hey, Ralphie boy! We'd love to mess with you, but we got a bit of an issue to sort out. Catch you later. Byyeee!"

The Warners gasped simultaneously when the guard snatched up by their tails in one swipe. He yanked them till he slammed their backs into the wall, pinning them to it with his meaty hands.

"Hey, easy with the fur Ralph!" Dot yelled at him.

"I- Is this about the liquid heat incident last week?! We told you we were sorry!" Wakko blabbed nervously.

"Shut up! I wasn't done talking to you damn freaks!" The guard bellowed, causing both of them to shrink. The eldest sibling bore an angry glare at the guard, not liking his sudden mood swing.

"How nice, cause we sure are" Yakko retorted. "Wakko… if you may"

Out of Wakko's hand came his trusty oak mallet. Within nanoseconds, the swinging weapon swooped in the air like a graceful piranha before landing in gracious hands of the mall cop security guard.

Wakko paused to read the run on sentence above him. " What…? Wait STOP!"

"Hammer Time!" said Ralph.

BAM!

The Warners exploded into a restroom inside, causing drywall and porcelain to shatter everywhere. The trio's toony bodies slammed against an open stall. Its occupant hobbled out of the room in fear, not even bothering to wash his hands.

The trio got up from the ground, still seeing stars and drumsticks. They laid their eyes on Ralph who happily whistled in the center of the hole in the wall, slinging the mallet over his shoulders. something seriously wrong was happening today.

"I don't know what hurts worse, getting hit with the mallet or that cheesy line?" Yakko groaned.

"As if you have to ask," Dot said with annoyance.

"Gee, that was fun," Ralph said with a sardonic smirk. "What do ya say we do something else?

"Yeah buddy, if its 'Whack a Warner' well we're not interested" Yakko spat back. He and his siblings broke out their own mallets, ready to pile drive him at the slightest move towards them. Out of character or not, they were not going to let this slide.

"Nah, I want to play a different game …" Ralph replied before pulling something big and black out of his back pocket. And no it's not what you're probably thinking of. The guard began wiping off the barrel of an old fashioned Colt 45 in his hands.

"Ralph, when did you get a gun?" Wakko whimpered. A malicious grin spread across the guard's face.

"Ah, Ever heard Russian Roulette, well this is the California Crapshoot!"

Bang Bang Bang!

"Yikes!" the Warners shrieked as Ralph fired several random rounds in the restroom, obliterating the tile floor beneath them.

"You had to say that in this room?!" Dot screeched. They bounced off the walls like orbeez balls, popped in and out of the stalls and bunny hopped on the sinks, barely avoiding the projectiles.

"You're looking at the original parkour experts folks!" Yakko said to no one. He was immediately thrown off balance when another shot destroyed a nearby sink. A hard jet of sewage water swept the trio off their feet.

Ralph stood over them and aimed the intimidating weapon directly at them.

"Any ideas?" Dot said nervously.

"Wait! Let me try something! Wakko jammed his finger into the barrel of the gun right before Ralph could fire.

BLAM!

Without warning, the colt 45 disintegrated in a large shock wave, sending the guard flying into an open stall. The toilet was liberated from the floor and landed right onto the guard's bald head.

"Whoa! That actually worked!" Wakko said with a delirious chuckle.

The Warners ran out into the hallways, which were unusually empty despite that it was in the middle of the day.

"Help Help! Ralph's gone rogue!" Yakko yelled out right before he froze mid-air, "I can't believe I'm actually saying that!" he resumed running with the others.

They screeched to halt when Nurse appeared at a doorway in a dirty crusty covered wedding dress.

"Oh, you're back!" she moaned before puckering her red lips. "Ready for the honeymoon?!"

"Hit reverse sibs!" Yakko yelled. The trio ran backwards to the point where they were nearly moonwalking out of the damaged building. At this point, the trio had zipped clear across the movie lot. Above them, the dark blemish on the sun above had gotten larger.

"Yakko, what's going on?!" Dot said, pulling at her bow. A stumbling giraffe mooed at them.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"" Looks like we'll have to go to the one other person who can help!"

A quick trip to the park was all it took for them to reach the person they were trying to find. They stopped in front of the largest tree in the park and ran right up to its front door.

"Slappy! Slappy!" the trio yelled as they banged on the door. The door opened.

"Hello, Godchild!" Slappy greeted them at the door in an oversized light blue robe. The elderly squirrel looked at them blankly with a sickly yet sweet smile across her lips.

"Geez Slappy, you heading to a Dugger's convention? What's with the robe?" Dot said, staring into the squirrel hazed eyes. Slappy simply took out a wreath made of daisies and poison ivy and planted it right on top her head.

"No children, I'm heading to the town square for the peace ceremony. Care to come?" she replied in a monotone voice.

"Oh no. Not you too!" Yakko whined as his siblings smacked their heads. Slappy shrugged.

"Oh well, you're missing out on enlightenment," Slappy said before she carefully scooted past them. Birds and doves swirled around her as she frolicked out of the park and into the busy street.

"Oh shit!" A driver yelled as he narrowly swarmed out of the squirrel's path and crashed into a beaver dam.

The Warners stared at the scene, completely slack-jawed and befuddled.

"Did someone finally make opposite day a real holiday?" Wakko asked.

"Doubt it. This has to be a dream…" Yakko replied.

"Warners?! What are you guys doing here?" an irritated voice came from behind them. In a rare blue moon occurrence, the Warners were actually relieved to see that it came from Mr. Plotz. The grumpy CEO stood at attention, waiting to hear whatever excuse they would have for today. But today was not one of those days.

"T.P., I can't believe I'm actually happy to see you," Yakko said, graciously hugging him. This moment of tranquility soon ended when the CEO, actually hugged back.

"Well I am happy to see you three, you three always make this studio great around here!" Plotz said with pleasantness.

Yakko recoiled from him instantly, his blood running cold. Shivers ran up Dot and Wakko's spines.

"You three look like you need your frowns turned upside down!" Plotz pointed them. His nose had gotten larger and turned a bright shade of red.

"No… no" Dot said while shaking his head. The words that came from Plotz's lips plunged the Warners siblings into a fuzzy pit of despair.

"You're not Plotz! You're not supposed to be encouraging!" Yakko pointed an accusatory finger at him. The CEO giggled, yes giggled, as the pale-faced man approached him.

"Oh, Yakko you seem tense. Maybe you should let me give you another hug."

Plotz held out his frilly cuffed arms. His custom fitted blazer turned into ghastly bodysuit of slime green and mustard yellow. his balding hair turned into a twisting mess of orange fur. When the agonizing transformation was nearly complete, the pupils in his demented turned a jaundiced shade of yellow.

"Maybe a game will suffice, a balloon animal possibly?" Plotz continued, his voice sounding more higher pitched and nasally.

"So this is what you see whenever you come across clowns?!" Yakko said to his younger brother while he trembled. Dot held onto him tightly.

"Uh huh, but he's that not that scary, to be honest…" Wakko stated, waving him off.

"Froinlavin!" Plotz exclaimed with a demonic sound. The content smile on Wakko disappeared.

"… but now he is! Hide!" Wakko rushed for the front door to Slappy's house, his siblings were right behind him. Inside the house was Nurse in a revealing Harley Quinn cosplay.

"Hey, there puddin! I'll be your Harley and you can be my Batman!" The nurse said before she pulled a nearby lever which showered her body with cottage cheese. Teeming with ecstasy, she ran for the door.

"Uh… how about neither?!" Yakko uttered before he slammed the door and reinforced it with extra padlocks and chains.

A piercing brumm of a chainsaw came to life eviscerating the California smog around them like butter.

"Seriously, who's writing this?!" Dot said, looking at the statement above. Ralph popped out of the bush nearby with the lethal weapon ready to shed.

"Heeeres Ralphie!" the guard sneered with crooked teeth.

"Ahh! Duck!" Yakko screamed. He yanked Dot out of the way just as the metal from the chainsaw kissed the side of the tree where she stood. All three of them ran away, nearly stumbling from the shower of acorns and bird residue falling from the glorious old oak tree. The large tree shuddered and shook before it came falling down. Both Ralph and the clown unwisely happened to be standing within its shadow, the latter holding a long yellow balloon.

"Who wants to see a sword?!" Plotz said.

Crash!

Meanwhile, the Warners hid inside a nearby booth a few blocks away…

"Wait, phone booths still exist in Burbank?!" Wakko wondered.

They hid inside a nearby phone booth and anxiously watched the guard come down the street a few seconds later, cackling at the top of lungs. The chainsaw still running in his hands. Yakko added in a couple of coins and picked up the phone. It rang.

"Hello?" Scratchy responded.

"Scratchy, you got to get back here now!" Yakko said to him.

"Ugh, why?"

"The whole studio seems to be going crazy, it's like everyone we know has contracted Nicholas Cage fever!"

"Yakko Puh-lease, I'm very busy!"

"Doctor? Sire are you ready for another round?" another voice answered.

"Hey, wasn't that Michelle Phiffer?" Wakko asked. Yakko jaw dropped in realizing that he was right.

"What the- Scratchy! That's my crush!" He huffed with indignation.

"You snooze you lose Yakko," Scratchy said before he hung up. Again.

"This dream better end soon, it's giving me a headache…" Yakko rubbed his forehead. He barely noticed the red glowing dot on his temple.

"Aw, let me fix that," said Ralph.

BLAM!

Yakko ducked his head just in time. The entire phone fixture exploded from a projectile blast that came from across the street. They looked up to see Ralph had ditched his uniform and was now in full camouflage and commando gear, complete with grenades on his belt and a smoking Uzi in his hands.

"You got to be kidding me!" Yakko exclaimed.

Ralph unloaded on them with nonstop fury, all while letting out a guttural wail that would have made John Rambo tremble. They bolted out of dodge, seconds before the rest of the phone booth and the surrounding area was peppered into minuscule pieces.

The Warners ran all over the place, desperately trying to find someone who hadn't gone full retard just yet. The dark blemish on the sun covered more than half of the sun.

They spotted a crowd in the center of the town. All of them were wearing more of the ghastly light blue robes Slappy was wearing. Without a moment too soon they muscled their way into the crowd. A sea of blank faces and drooling smiles were all they could see.

"Hello, all you glorious creations, time of reckoning has revealed itself unto us" A speaker bellowed above the crowd, one the Warners immediately recognized as Brain.

"Oh no- looks like those years with Pinky finally made him snap" Dot whispered.

"Oy, potato Oy, potato" The crowd chanted.

"Give us not your money, but your unwilling duty ship to love everything with peace and cheese sauce"

"Oy Laredo, Oy Laredo!"

"And let us forever be together through whatever obstacles may appear, let push them into One Direction!"

"Fried tomato! Winnebago!" the crowd chanted.

"Surprisingly these guys are less nuts than Flat Earthers" Yakko muttered. He winced briefly when a larger cult member completely covered in robes brushed past them, stepping on his toes.

"Hey, manners are still a thing you know!" Dot snapped at him. The man looked back to give an evil grin. Their faces dropped when they realized it belonged to Ralph.

"Yeah, we're not sticking around for this!" Yakko commented before he and his siblings climbed onto various cult members, not caring that they were ruining perfectly good haircuts or giving full on concussions. None of that mattered. They had to get away from Ralph, for the first time in a while they were actually scared.

The fat guy whipped off his robe, revealing that he had on nothing but a roll of dynamite around his waist. Yakko's eyes widened in shock as he made a mad dash to catch Wakko and Dot. All while The Brain continued to preach.

"And as we pray to out suns who we rejoice from afar. They bring us enlightenment as we say…"

"Admiral Akbar!" Ralph yelled.

BOOM!

The Warner hunched together, shielding themselves from the blinding light that came from the nuclear explosion searing the air around them. It rumbled the ground like fruit roll up's on a hot day, and vaporized anything within its path.

When it finally stopped. The Warners got up to see the entire yards of nothing but a scorched flat wasteland. And its only occupants were the Warners themselves and Ralph's sparkling blue spirit. The dimwitted guard looked at his own predicament with shock.

"Huh, I guess those old instructional videos were right. All you have to do is duck and cover." Wakko said.

Ralph could nothing but pout as a flying nimbus cloud lifted him high into the heavens, all while he glared at the Warners and gave them the middle finger. He disappeared in the cloudy marmalade sky, barely missing the sun which was now fully eclipsed by the dark spot. The Warners didn't care as they gleefully waved him goodbye.

"Bye bye!" the trio chirped.

"Whew, glad that's over," Yakko said.

"Yakko …" Nurse's voice cooed from a distance, hearing it made the eldest Warner flinch with an ugly grimace.

"Oh no!"

"Oh boys, I have enough toys for everybody!" The nurse came sprinting at them like a drunken gazelle. This time she wore spike studded leather boots and lingerie. And draped around her neck were anal beads and ball gags.

"Yakko, what were those two things the narrator just mentioned?!" Dot asked, her face wrenched with disgust.

"Something Fifty Shades of Grey probably touched on in better detail," Yakko replied. They quickly started moonwalking away from the potential blond dominatrix in making.

"Kids!"Mr. Plotz yelled. Behind them, Plotzo the clown came running towards them with an army of multicolored balloon animals in his wake. One of them, a pink giraffe, brayed at them. "Do you want to sing a happy song? Froinlavin!"

Just above the trio, the blue spirit of Slappy Squirrel came flying down from the sky carrying peace doves and unicorns. The Goodfeathers dive bombed with her, ready to decorate the Warners like old statues in a train station. The Warners trembled together as they watched the pandemonium descend upon them.

Suddenly, as if their prayers had been answered, a car pulled up nearby. Not bothering to check who it was, the Warners seized the opportunity. They burst through the car window action Bond style and face planted into the backseats.

"What can I do for you?" the driver replied with a Brooklyn accent.

"Take us anywhere but here! And step on it!" Yakko told him.

"The car driver slammed on the gas pedal and breezed away just in time. Nurse, Plotz, and Slappy's armies all collided into a shower of shrimps and clams.

"Will this dream ever end?!" Dot sighed, as she threw her head back in the seat.

" I hope so, I don't how much of this randomness I can take" Yakko replied.

"Can I change the radio?"Wakko asked the driver.

"Sure" the driver replied. Wakko tuned the radio dial to different stations.

"...Despite the growing hole in the sun's surface, it is getting hotter than MY MOOOOM…!

"...Get Scwifty...!"

"...Mississippi Queen, if you know..!"

"And now, this is Mordecai and Rigby live from LA with our musical guests today, Rita the Cat and Eddie Vedder will be performing a song."

Wakko sat in the back with the other two Warners and sighed in relief. "Oh good, something normal for once."

The hair on the back of their necks rose as they heard first few guitar notes of Black Hole Sun eerily plucked from the speakers.

"In my eyes, indisposed, In disguises no one knows...", Rita sang.

Realizing this was a sign of worse to come, the driver looked down at radio with dread.

"Oh fuuuck no!" The car screeched to a stop. The driver kicked them out with a swift kick. "You kids aren't roping me into this craziness."

"Hey come back!" Wakko and Dot shouted at the guy as he speed away high speed, barely missing a semi-truck skidding across an intersection. Somehow they could still hear the music.

"...And my youth I pray to keep, Heaven, sent hell away"

"We're not giving you 5 stars!" Yakko yelled at him.

An ambient drone undercut the music with a vibration that rumbled the entire ground beneath their toes. The large dot on the sun had completely overtaken and had now blocked out all of its bright rays. Instead, the head of Flavio the Hippo appeared in the dot, smiling down at them with a toothy grin. It then opened its mouth and began sucking in air like a straw. And the music at this point was deafeningly loud.

"...Black hole Sun, won't you come. Wash away the rain…"

Trees and skyscrapers squished into purple pus-like orbs, floating their way into the ginormous void above them. Bloodshot eyes in the skies stared down at them, screaming for vengeance and lustless agony. Tears filled with clams and shrimp glistened down its victims.

"I think whoever is writing this dream has officially checked out!" Yakko said, covering his ears.

"We're dreaming? Then how come I can actually taste this shrimp?" Wakko held up a half-eaten shrimp he'd picked up off the ground, it was the size of his head. For extra measure ,both Yakko and Dot pinched their cheeks. They hurt.

"Oh, God…"

The sun descended in the west upon the sparse horizon, the Flavio shaped star widened his gaping mouth and increased its gravitational pull, sucking in anything in his path. People, prairie dogs, pets, and including the Warners themselves.

"Hang on!" Yakko yelled over the apocalypse, his terrified siblings clutching to him tightly. The ground below them pulled away like crumbled cookie crumbs, spilling away into a sea of a dark blue ocean.

The water tower they'd come to call their home had smashed against a nearby gas station. Some of the gas began leaking out and flooding into the street. In a desperate attempt to stay afloat, they grabbed onto the broken legs of the tower and held on with their feet helplessly dangling in the wind.

The girrafe knocked into the trio, loosening Dot's grip on her brothers. She could do nothing but scream as she disappeared in the swirling dark void.

"Dot!" Yakko screamed.

"Yakko, I don't feel so good." Wakko croaked. He started to disintegrate in a haze of chili powder and pepper. Yakko watched his brother disappear like an open KoolAid into the black hole.

"...Won't you come, won't you come..."

"Wak...?"

The final guitar chords were coming near. An earspiltting rumble came just above his numb head. He looked up. On top of him was a planet-sized pitcher of the Mississippi Queen drink falling from the sky, topped with a nice Molotov cocktail. Yakko closed his eyes just before it connected to the ground with a final earth-shattering smash.

original link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13263720/2/The-Trip

[orderofthefanfic]

Truth Serum

Taglist:  @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @dottirose @nennesse @ek823 @fandomnationwhore @blackloveangel13 @eleniherondale @bethsaly @angelaiswriting @ornissim @nightfae

A chapter from my book The Winter's Shadow which you can read on AO3

Bucky x OC Carmen

Spring - Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York - May 7, 2022

3:30 AM

The time was glaring Bucky in the face, the taunting red numbers annoying him to no end. It was another sleepless night for him and he knew any attempt to get some rest was useless. And so, he groaned, pressing his pillow firmly into his face before he rolled out of bed. The tower was silent as he padded noiselessly down the hall.

The team was out on a weekend assignment, leaving only himself and Carmen. Under the presumptions she was locked in her room, as the pair frequently were, he determined his journey to the kitchen to be a safe venture. It wasn’t until the soft and timeless voice of the elusive recluse flooded out of his destination’s doorway that he realized he was wrong.

She was singing intimately to herself, low and quiet, and the ancient but familiar sound stopped him abruptly. He hadn’t noticed it had knocked the breath out of him until he found himself sucking in a sneaky breath, pressing himself flat against the wall. Bucky squinted his eyes as he followed the words, never admitting to himself that he was stalling to savor each delicate note.

Got an angel on my shoulder

Got a penny in my pocket

And I found a four-leaf clover

And I put it in my locket

Wished on all the stars above me

And I caught the nearest rainbow

Gonna find someone to love me

Gonna find someone to love

The clank of dishware pierced over her voice, the rolling of the drawers and the shink of Tony’s expensive silverware joining, but her lyrics never lingered as she bustled through the kitchen, preparing one of her signature midnight monstrosities.

Well I tossed a lot of nickels in the wishing well

And saved the fortunes that the fortune cookies tell

I got a lucky penny and a mustard seed

But a warm and tender love is all I need

And I want a love that lingers

And a strong one through and through

So I'm gonna cross my fingers

That I'll find a boy who loves me true

And I'm gonna love him too

Coward was never a word to describe Bucky Barnes, but certainly, many similar terms could be pinned on him when affronted with the very woman he was most definitely hiding from as he stuck like glue to the wall outside the kitchen. His breath was slow and even, but his heart was pounding. If the team saw him now, he’d look like a total idiot, the thought bouncing in his head which he shook away to gather himself. They seldom truly spoke to one another aside from bitter remarks and stale small talk when it wasn’t business, and there was no reason to believe it would be any different this time. So after a few moments of composing his strength and patience, he appeared in the kitchen.

Her back was to him, wrestling with a scooper in a tub of mint chocolate ice cream and clad in a fuzzy, black robe covering, what he assumed to be, her signature black, satin romper. With her long, dark curls twisted into a tight bun, she was a sight of chaotic beauty. Her pale skin was soft despite the years of abuse and scars always seemed to hold a certain delicacy when placed upon her skin.

She seemed unaware of him, but he knew she had sensed him.

“I never took you for the love song type.”

His back pressed against the frame of the doorway as his arms crossed in front of him. He figured he would start a conversion, give himself the advantage in case one started anyways, but he chastised himself for his choice of subject.

Great job, Barnes, admit you were listening and be snarky.

To his surprise, nothing in her seemed bothered: no tensing of her shoulders or straightening of her head.

She just carried on with her preparations, shrugging as she deadpanned, “I was going to say, ‘I never took you as the stalker type,’ but that wouldn’t be true, now would it?”

He hadn’t realized she let out a small scoff before she spoke and it wasn’t until he made the same sound himself that it connected for him. She had just laughed at something he said. NOt the sarcastic kind, no, genuine, amused laughter.

She scoffed, idiot, she wasn’t rolling on the floor.

Bucky shook the intrusive thought away, preferring his own interpretation. When it came to the matter of Carmen, especially with him, that was close e-damn-nough to laughter. He observed her silently for a moment, but after watching her pour an ungodly mountain of crushed soft peppermints and caramel sauce into her bowl, he could no longer remain quiet.

“What in the absolute hell are you concocting?”

“Probably the best thing I ever made,” she paused for a moment, thinking, before she propped up a finger, “Well, maybe not, but it’s up there.”

She slid a pan over and scraped a slice from the leftover chocolate ganache pie Tony had bought two nights before, slamming it on top of the scoops.

“Pie and ice cream?”

“Pie in ice cream,” she finally turned to him, nodding towards the bowl as she began to smush the slice into the mint chocolate, “there’s a difference.”

With a hum of approval, she slid the dessert across the island towards the barstools before she gasped and dove into the cabinet. Gingerly plucking the container of instant coffee, she tipped it over and dumped an unhealthy serving onto her pile of sugar. Finally satisfied, she swung her legs onto the counter and slid off the other side, landing on a stool and barely gripping the counter to stop her from tipping backward onto the floor. She did all with such elegant grace that it made him stare in wonder at her movements.

She was very quick to shovel a bite into her mouth, a look of bliss overtaking her features as she groaned softly. He was still just staring, a look of admiration contemplation set gently on his weary face, and she soon caught on to the steady gaze.

Lifting her face from her ravaging, she furrowed her brows briefly, nodding once more to the bowl, “Want some?”

His arms dropped from his chest, taking a few steps forward into the kitchen as he looked to the hall and back with incredulous wide eyes.

“Are you actually, willingly offering me your food?”

She placed her spoon down with a clank and met his eyes. He could finally see the exhaustion in her, her usually piercing eyes duller.

“I doubt you came in here to eavesdrop on love songs,” she began, and he remembered just how easy she could read him, “It’s just one of those nights. We’re in here for the same reason.”

Bucky was leaning against the counter now, elbows resting on the marble.

“Sitting in bed and staring at the wall is a waste of time. Making ice cream that could put me in a sugar coma? So much better.”

Carmen spoke with amusement, but he could see past it and into the sadness that lurked there. This time, oddly enough, she wasn’t hiding it.

“You’re being uncharacteristically honest.” Barnes was skeptical of her sudden openness, and he knew something was out of the ordinary.

Lifted from the chair beside, glass included, was the ornate bottle of Asgardian mead Thor had gifted to those of the team who were immune to anything else. The corner of her mouth was lifted upwards in a sideways smirk as she clacked it onto the counter.

“Guilty as charged,” she was pouring herself another drink, the number of which he did not know, “It’s my truth serum. Might make me a little too honest.”

He nodded silently as she added with a point to her midnight snack, “Offer still stands.”

They looked at each other for a moment, wordless, and with a finally relenting shrug, he sighed an “Okay,” and pushed away from the marble.

“You know where the spoons are.”

“Yep.”

He made quick work to the seat beside her, allowing ample space between their elbows as she slid the bowl in between them.

The first bite was truly, and unexpectedly delicious, but his composure never waved as they picked at the dessert.

“I think this is the most pleasant interaction we’ve ever had since we got here,” Bucky joked, but she knew there was a genuineness to his statement.

“Power of alcohol, huh?” Her gaze dropped to her lap and an emptiness darkened her expression.

“Can I be honest again?”

The flat attempt at lightheartedness slowed his response as he watched her profile.

“Sure,” he spoke quietly, unsure of what she could possibly say.

“We don’t usually get along. We both know that. But honestly? I’m afraid to look at you. I was afraid that when I did, I was just going to see everyone else.” She paused, swallowing dryly as a sad scoff puffed from her lips. “Now, I’m scared that it’s the complete opposite. When I look at you, the only thing I see is you.”

Bucky’s whole body froze, his breath catching in his throat at her last words. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears as his mouth went dry and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus his mind enough to form a reply.

Carmen, however, seemed unphased and unaware of Bucky’s ever-intensifying emotions, throwing back another shot, and continuing her ramblings.

“You know what else? I’m terrified to sleep alone, because every time I close my eyes, I feel like they’re right there, just waiting.” She shook her head and laughed at herself. “It’s so stupid. I’ve faced some of the worst things this world has to offer and I’m afraid to go to sleep.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Bucky’s voice was unsupported as he finally pulled himself from his stupor, clearing his throat and shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

Carmen turned to him, an unreadable expression on her face before a smile tugged at the corner of her delicate lips and she nodded with a soft laugh, “Sober me is going to kill me.”

“I don’t think you’ll be the only one she’s after.”

They chuckled together as she stared absentmindedly at the bowl in front of them. A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke again with a shrug.

“But I’d rather be honest now, finally pass out, and forget everything in the morning than go in everyday thinking like that and never saying a word. It sucks, you know? That we can’t just say what we need to say, always walking around with a million thoughts in our heads and never getting to deal with them. I’m sick of being silent. And I’m sick of being too much of a pussy to do anything about it.”

For the second time, Bucky was speechless.

“At least now I can hide behind my alcohol.”

Running from her admissions, she cracked a joke and nudged his arm as her tired, hooded eyes met his. Her cheeks were flushed from the drinks, the tips of her ears dusted a light cherry. She was beautiful, and Bucky found himself lost on her vibrant, plump lips. At first, he thought it was his boyish imagination playing tricks when it seemed Carmen slowly began to lean for him. But as her eyes began to flutter, lips parting ever so slightly, his heart caught in his throat. He couldn’t do this, it wouldn’t be right. She was drunk and definitely wouldn’t be leaning in to kiss him if she wasn’t plastered. It would be entirely wrong of him to go along with it, even if maybe he...wanted to.

His cheeks flushed red-hot, first at the thought of things, but soon exasperated at the realization that he’d been wrong when her face missed his and her forehead rammed softly into his shoulder with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m such an idiot,” he hissed into the void of his own mind.

Boy, was he carrying the torch for her...

“You should get some sleep,” he finally cracked out, clearing his throat and pushing away an intrusive thought that tried to plague him.

Another sigh and she pushed herself harder into him, nearly slipping out of her chair if he hadn’t caught her. A tired giggle slipped past her lips.

“Carry me,” was all she said, snacking her arms around his neck a she turned her head, warm breath fanning over his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

She always was a little demanding when she was drunk.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if she’d make it to bed on her own. And so, he complied, taking a deep and calming breath before leaning her out of her chair and slipping an arm under her legs. Carmen groaned something incoherent but didn’t stir, laying still in his grasp as Bucky made his way out of the kitchen, minding her dangling feet in the doorways. He made quick work of the trip to her room, holding his breath in the uncomfortably quiet elevator, and walking briskly to her room. It was a bit of a juggle opening the door, but he managed, making his way gingerly through her tidy space. The ridiculous sheer presence of her bed still amused him to this day. She indulged on nearly nothing when they first moved to the tower, except for her bed. It was enormous, grandiose even, with more pillows than he could count in all different shapes, sizes, and styles. The comforter was black and full, with a few decorative blankets tangled within it. A mess as it always was, she never made it.

Gently, he laid her onto the bed, chuckling softly as she shoved her blankets out from underneath her with her feet and grasped tiredly for them. Bucky bent to grab them and pulled them to her hands. After she’d yanked them up to her chin and snuggled up with a soft, drunken smile, he found his services no longer needed and turned to leave. He was almost to the door when her soft and timid voice kissed his ears. And to think he’d almost missed it.

“Stay.”

One word, full of trepidation and earnest.

“Please.”

He’d stopped short, turning to see her shadowed face, his heart pounding again. She’d sat up, her hand reaching out lazily to him as she whispered once more.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

He couldn’t say no to her. It was as if his wild heart had taken over his mind and already decided for him. He had to stay for her. With a soft sigh and a dry swallow, he returned to her bedside, awkwardly perching at the foot of her bed.

“Lay down,” she grumbled into the silence, lightly kicking his back, “It’s weird if you’re just sitting there.”

Bucky chuckled quietly, taking a deep breath before he carefully shifted. He was careful to mind her space as he reclined, but she had no such caution, scooting herself flush to his side with a happy wriggle and little grin. When he turned to his face to see her, she was inches from him, glossy doe eyes locked on him.

He raised his brows at her stares, eliciting a drunken giggle from her lips as she sighed out, “You’re just pretty when you’re embarrassed.”

And with a sloppy boop of his nose, Carmen was out like a light, leaving Bucky wide awake. His cheeks were burning, neck flushed red as his heart pounded in his ears, a warmth spreading out from his chest in the silent dark of the night.

[bugaboowritings]

Cameras and Dead News - Emilie Agreste Is Missing - Fic

Adrien is Rocking Some Shades From The ‘90s. 

I got the idea from a post, that I can’t find- lucky me. But basically, Gabriel doesn’t go out after Emilie’s death/disappearance so the paparazzi couldn’t ask him questions. Do you guys know who still leaves the house tho... Adrien.

Just imagine how that would go. A kid missing his mom, forced to hear questions about her disappearance. 

(Found the post, it was @chloe-is-a-lesbeean. Buzz Buzz, Bitches --> the post) 

hope everyone is alright as we handle these COVID-19 shutdowns. 

-----

“Damn,” The young flim-maker sighed before folding the newspaper in his hands. 

His lips pursed together in thought, not knowing how to feel or to even believe what he was reading. All while he sat in a cafe, one that’s tucked under the shade of another building, his friend gladly munched on the breakfast they ordered. He hasn’t touched his plate since he got there and the other has been debating with their wallet if they should order another coffee for the trip back to the studio. Idly slouching on the bean-bag as he sat rigid against his wooden chair, gripping the paper in his hand. 

 He’s a small artist in the north of town, who sleeps on his friend’s couch because art doesn’t sell, not at a price that will pay for rent, only for that of a good breakfast and lost dinner. Only known underground for his camera and his good eye for color, but never really having any real connections to the silver screen nor the crowds usually involved painting on it, but he was one of the many victims that a certain star carried her influence over. You had to be living under a rock to not know the blonde, the one who fostered a new generation of artists under her wing and films. 

Even though this director didn’t know her personally, it didn’t stop the heavy stiffness from setting gently on his chest. Wondering if he should even take this headline to heart. 

Hell, he’s unsure if what he was reading was even true or just another clickbait story. Shaking off the bitter feelings just in case this was fake. A stunt pulled by some hot-shot manager or rowdy marketing team. 

If so, it’s utter bullshit to write an article like that just to sell crates full of print. 

It wasn’t until his friend noticed the cold and untouched coffee, that they raised their eyebrow and nodded their head to him to speak up. Yet, the director didn’t talk, only giving a heavy sigh before passing the newspaper down. They, an able writer and a genuine friend willing to give up a couch, hastily sucked the syrup off their fingers and wiped their sticky hands on their loose denim jeans before taking the press in their hand. 

Licking the sweet cream off their lips from their breakfast before staring hard at the page. 

Suddenly that bagel on the white clean platter didn’t seem so appetizing. The cream cheese turned bland and the orange juice after-taste went sour and disgusted their taste buds. 

“. . .Wow.” 

Quickly after that, the two flipped to the main article inside. Scanning the black text to see if this could even be true. Their fingers pinched the press a little tighter as their hands got clammy.  Swiftly scanning to see if there was any reason to believe the bold headline that was selling fast in Paris. 

           EMILIE AGRESTE MISSING            A STAR NOW DIMMING...?

From her famous production skills to her unforgettable acting, along with her hand in public service with the Mayor and to aid the City of Paris, her strong love for the arts and her endless funding for them, and her infinite support towards the young creators in Paris- Emilie Agreste was famous and known around for not only her marriage but her character. 

She’s the very reason that so many got their chance and felt like they could make it in a field that seemed impossible to touch. 

Agreste, along with being caring, she was talented in so many ways.  She had the audience in the palm of her hand when she played the sickly lover to the crazed workaholic on the screen. When she shed a tear, the spectators wept with her. When she smiled, the world seemed fine and the sun always shined. When she sighed at the sky, people wondered what she was daydreaming about. Her name was used in tv shows and other movies, as an homage to her and to her fame. 

The blonde really was Paris’ muse. 

Emilie Agreste, an icon that was thought to never fade from the minds of Parisians or from their headlines. 

This proved more true when people just wanted to know more as the news traveled further and further in France. All everyone wanted to hear, read, or watch were the updates on this case or the basic details that the public has access to. 

Where was her last known location?  

What could be the cause of this? 

Why did this happen?

How could this happen in the first place? 

Then the one that astonished everyone. 

Where is she now? 

‘What happened to Emilie Agreste?’ became the most searched thing in Paris in under 24 hours. 

The world faced the media for answers and clarification, but they too were speechless. Even the journalists notorious for finding the small secrets from cheating scandals,  friendship drama, secret pregnancies or always managed to know an inside-source for everything— 

They too came dry.

Not with a drop of gossip or a hint of rumors. 

All that there was, was the police report filed days ago by her husband, who seems to disappear from the public eye as his wife did from the earth. 

Calls to interview him went unanswered. Emails for a comment on this situation got clicked and dragged to the trash bin. Cameras that waited outside the mansion,  like starving lions waiting for the picture-perfect prey, only got a snap of the maids taking out the trash. The Agreste fashion-shows, ones that were planned months ago, were canceled the day before they took place. The spring collection had to be pushed back before releasing the photos to the magazines weeks later. 

No one could get the details of Parisian Darling and that didn’t change no matter how much the reporters bid for the voices of assistants and maids to speak on the matter. 

The only person out in public and with a tight connection with the Agreste was Emilie’s one and only child.

Adrien Agreste. 

Blossoming model to the Agreste Brand a few months back and the only Agreste that would step out to the sun to go to his fencing lesson and photoshoots. The reason the gates opened again was to only to let in his Chinese tutors or piano instructor. Then, the gates would shut again when he stayed in his rooms for hours on end. Not really a public face until his father released his anticipated winter collection last year, all with the teen as the front cover of every fashion magazine advertising it.

And man, was it well received. 

There were times where Adrien had to be shielded from the press by his bodyguards to get to his fencing competition. Deciding early on to take his Chinese lessons at home instead of going off to the university for his studies when he got pestered by hidden paparazzi and nosey students. 

Reporters, photographers, and the curious were hot on his heels as they shouted things to make him turn around, to get a reaction. Anything to make their salary bigger.  Anything to put on a tabloid. Anything to print on the press. Anything to get something that sells. 

“Is your mother dead?”

“Is it true that there is a ransom note at Emilie’s last known location?” 

“Do you think your mother left with her own will and didn’t disappear?” 

“Adrien, do you think that your mother left willing or is this just a stunt for the new film with Grand-”

“-How is your father dealing with this situation?” 

“ADRIEN, turn around! Tell the public what they were waiting to hear!” 

“Is Gabrial Agreste so disheartened that he can’t step out? Should we still expect the fall collection with-” 

“What is the police saying about your mother’s case?” 

“Are there any new leads about her disappearance?” 

“Adrien, what do you think of this situation?!” 

The heir to the Agreste Brand, the name and legacy stopped in his tracks on the stone staircase. 

It’s a sunny morning out, so his hair managed to glimmer nicely thanks to the sun’s rays. It was also an excuse to wear sunglasses, to pull a curtain over his face so no one could dare to notice how much he wanted to cry. Covering the bags under his eyes and shielding them away from the bright lights since his eyes got more delicate the longer he went without sleep. 

But no one would see that. All they would point out would be the fact his shades are his dad’s old collection from the ’90s. 

They wouldn’t see how he picks his lips because he can’t tap his toes against the marble floors in his house without creating an echo that makes him feel more alone. 

But no one would see that. They would just ask what his lip care routine or if he used any innovative k-beauty products to keep them that shade of pinky-red or that glossy. Totally not the ointment that keeps them from bleeding. 

He would come to practice in all grey or wear minimalistic clothes because he doesn’t want to think about how to match the patterns or the fact it felt so wrong being so bitter when wearing mustard yellow or baby blue. 

But no one would notice the reason for his monochrome wardrobe and call it a new style for the summer. 

Taking little ways he showed his grief when everyone seemed to move too fast. Adrien barely felt the ground under his feet as Natalie changed the times for his lunch again to fit another appointment and meeting. 

Processing the last time he saw his mom before he got asked for another interview on her disappearance. 

How the little interactions and moments popped into his head only to taunt him. The way she stirred her tea, how she comforted him that one time he fell on the concrete, how she always got a plate of cut fruit for him when he was studying, then how she winked at him and said, “Let me talk to your father. He’ll come around,” whenever Adrien asked to go out but there was some hesitation, or how his mother managed to make even the scariest things seem not so scary in the end. 

So to answer that question, he didn’t know.

 Everything was growing out of place in his life but it was in an excepted way. His father was never a man of conversation but became one secluded in isolation without his mother pulling him in with her words out of his cave and keeping him sitting by the dinner table. Adrien didn’t even know if his father locked himself in his large office and buried himself in work or if he still in his parent’s room- trying to process what’s going on. Adrien has been out of the house so much that he doesn’t even know if he left his bedroom the way it is or the maids cleaned up when he was gone, not knowing if his game is still paused at this point. 

 It also just hit him on that nice, sunny day that he may have lost the ability to say ‘parents’ when only one is currently at home. 

As hungry reporters encroached the teen, Gorilla shoved them back and away. Setting his palm on the young Agreste’s back to urge him to keep moving. Only getting a nod, letting a few seconds pass before he hurried up the staircase and into his lessons. 

[firephoenix39]

Chapter 8: The Way To Texas

July 1st 8:00 am jimmy was setting a course to Texas the HQ was flying pass New Mexico into the south of Texas. So far Adrian was hugging Jingfei who is weeping about her grandmother.

Adrian: shhhh I know I know when I lost my parents I felt the same way just let it out, it's ok I'm here.

Jingfei: (sniffling) I just miss her so much she was the only family I have.

Adrian: I understand I was like that but look your grandma and your parents are in here (points on heart) and here (points on forehead).

Chris and Martin were looking at Adrian and Jingfei and felt bad that both lost their loved ones and wanted to cheer them up.

A minute later Adrian got a text from Adam.

Adam: hey little bro how are you doing.

Adrian: hey Adam um not too good at the moment.

Adam: what happened are you ok?

Adrian: there is this girl that I met when I was with Martin and Chris in China. Her name is Jingfei I love her and she loves me back but in the middle of the night her grandma the only family she had passed away and I've been getting flashbacks from when mom and dad passed. She is really taking it hard on it. We brought her with us cause if we didn't she would be on the streets fending for herself, and I want to help her but I can't do anything.

Adam: wow I'm really sorry to hear that well I wanted to tell you that I'm done with my college courses and I'm out and that I'm free. Is there any place you want to meet up?

Adrian: yeah can we meet at the family ranch in Amarillo I want to visit the place since we own it now. And to see if anything's Change.

Adam: sure I'll take a flight there I'll see you later alright.

Adrian: I'll see you there love you bro.

Adam: I love you too little bro take care.

(End of text)

2:00 pm the radar picked up a big rain clouds and jimmy had to make a quick landing to avoid lightning.

Adrian: what's going on guys

Jimmy: there are some heavy rain clouds in our path and we have to stop.

Adrian and the brothers looked outside and noticed that they are in a desert area

Adrian: are we in texas jimmy?

Koki and Aviva were checking their computer and the map as well.

Koki: it says we are in Texas but the computer can't make the exact city we are in.

Aviva: it's like we've been to every country but at this moment we don't know where we are.

Adrian grabbed his phone and used his maps app and was shocked to discover where they were at.

Adrian: guys we are at the city I was born in, Laredo I've always wanted to visit this place .

Jimmy: wait you were born here? I thought you were born in the last city corpus.

Adrian: I was born here but my parents moved to corpus when I was a year old due to a job opportunity they couldn't pass. It's says here that we are in the west side of the city near downtown . But it looks like that we are in the desert area or "Monte" in Spanish.

Adrian was looking in the city history and found some interesting facts.

Adrian: well here is something you don't know.

It says here that this area was all empty and when my parents were in their teens there was no schools from where they lived and that they had to go into the inner city near downtown and the border. Now there are houses and even schools in the south. Heck the city it's self is booming till this day.

Chris: well it can't hurt to step outside want to look around the area.

Adrian: sure I don't mind going out what about you Jingfei?

Jingfei: sure I don't mind as well.

3:00 pm the sun was blaring hot; Adrian, Chris, Martin and Jingfei were walking around the monte till they heard a strange noise.

Adrian: careful guys it is texas there are rattlesnakes.

Later the snake's rattle sounded closer and Adrian felt something tickling his leg later the trio in front of him saw the snake crawling up to his back and onto his arm

Adrian: what? What is there something on me? I don't feel nothing so just tell me.

Adrian looked at his left arm and jumped but he wasn't that scared he knew that if he was calm so is the snake. He raised his arm to his chest and the snake was making eye contact with him and he allowed him to pick it up and let it go away.

Chris, Martin and Jingfei were surprised that Adrian was able to remove the snake from his arm

Martin: Adrian how were you able to do that?

Adrian: I don't know maybe I just have a spiritual connection with wild animals.

Adrian sat on a log and was just looking at a his phone for any news till he heard foot steps.

Adrian: Chris, Martin ,Jingfei is that you?

No one replied when he looked up there was a Bambi and his mother walking up next to him the baby deer was just sniffing him and allowed Adrian to scratch him so he did and Adrian remembered that he has a bit of grain in his pocket he grabbed it and fed it to the Bambi. Then the mother walks up to him and also fed the mother as well. Little did he knew The brothers as well as Jingfei saw what was going on and thought it was cute.

As Adrian was done feeding the deer they both ran off into the wilderness.

Chris: you know you do have a way with nature.

Adrian: well I always appreciated animals and like to be with them. Chris,Martin can I tell you both something.

Brothers: go ahead.

Adrian: I've never been camping before even when I was young.

Chris: What? You have been missing out on a lot.

Adrian: well I've been thinking can we camp out tonight? I even found a store near where we are at and I can buy supplies

Martin: well sure it's your first time so you'll get to learn new experiences, ok you and Jingfei can get the supplies Chris and I will let the others know

As Chris and Martin head back to the HQ to let the rest know about the camp out plan,Jingfei and Adrian went to the store to get marshmallows, hot dog meat, buns, ketchup/mustard, and even bought a canteen for water. The cost was $15.00 so Adrian gave the cashier a $20.00 bill and  got five bucks back.

It was sundown around 8:00 pm  Adrian founded the crew and helped out the guys make a fire while Jingfei helped the girls with setting up tents. 9:00 pmThey were making hot dogs and as Adrian was cooking his he almost dropped it to the center but caught it in time.

Later Chris ask for a campfire stories and Adrian was the first to tell his story.

Adrian: it was around the time where native Americans were living here,there was a warrior who was born with the spirit of the wolf and he also acted like the animal .(Adrian grabs a powder and throws it to the fire making the picture come to life and show vibrant colors.) so to his people they called him the "Adalwolf" he cared for his people as if they was his pack,he lead them to fight with the different tribes to victory. But then in one battle the spirit took him over and he started to kill the other tribe natives Like the wolf as he was doing it he took to many arrows and started to run in the forest before he died he passed on the spirit to a Hispanic settler. To this day the spirit remains on earth looking for the next person to poses. It could even be me.

Than a in the distance there was a wolf howl and the team got a bit scared and started to go to their tents Adrian and Jingfei decided to share together and they drifted to sleep. 12:00 am Adrian was moving around in his sleeping bag as he was having a hard time to sleep, he was having visions that he was alone on horse back but the horse got startled that he was bucked off on to a cactus as he tried to get off the cactus he was stuck on fell and made him fall on another cactus on the ground and that later he awakes in a teepee and the Native American healer tells his people that he awoken and that the wolf spirit took him over. 2:00 am Jingfei was shaking Adrian to wake him up.

Jingfei: Adrian Adrian wake up

Adrian: what's wrong ?

Jingfei: I hear growling and footsteps can you check it out?

Adrian: ok I'll see what it is.

Then an animal let out a howl and it was to high pitched for a wolf

The noise scared Jingfei and Adrian to death, then the pack howled again and this time they were to close to the tents. Adrian grabbed his shock gantlet and peeked out of the tent. The fire was still lit but was going down and then he saw them there were four coyotes and they were staring at him.

Adrian: Hey Go On Get!!

The coyotes were growling at him and were approaching him slowly, Chris and Martin heard the commotion and open up their tents and saw the four coyotes about to jump on Adrian. As Adrian saw the wild dogs he saw the brothers looking at him and he starts to activate the shocking mechanism to defend himself, the first one jumped on Adrian but he managed to stunned the beast, then Adrian growled so loud that it scared the three coyotes away and even woke up Aviva Koki and Jimmy

Aviva: what happened what was all that noise

She saw the coyote laying on the ground and was devastated about what happened to the poor animal .

Aviva: what happened here!

Adrian: it was self defense four more were going to attack me I'm sorry.

Chris: Aviva don't be angry on him the bright side is that the coyote is still breathing and he'll be alright .

Aviva started to calm down but still was not pleased about the incident. Then Martin noticed something red on Adrian forearm

Martin: um Adrian there is something red going down your arm

Adrian took a look and notice that the coyote scratched him. And that he is bleeding

Adrian: I'll treat it later but Aviva I'm sorry that I did this to him.

Aviva: lets just forget about this alright I'm going back to the tent.

The team went to their tents and as Adrian was tending his claw slashes he and Jingfei overhear Aviva and Koki's conversation.

Koki: look Aviva I know that what the kid did was wrong but think about it if he didn't did what he did he would have been coyote food all life is important.

Aviva: I know Koki but I don't like that animals get hurt I even heard the poor thing whimper look I'll give him tomorrow than I'll forgive him.

Adrian: Jingfei I don't know if what I did was a good idea I mean like I didn't want to do it but he attack me first I mean it's not like I shot it with a gun it was just an electric stun.

Adrian peaked out his tent and saw that the coyote left to find his pack and didn't see no blood from the animal.

Adrian: well I just checked the thing left but still I feel guilty about it well I hope all is well tomorrow.

Jingfei and Adrian snuggle close together and fell asleep.

July,2nd 6:00 am The sun was rising everyone was awake and putting away the camping gear When they were done jimmy set a course to Amarillo.

9:00 am Adrian was getting text from Adam

Adam: hey little bro I'm at the ranch where you at?

Adrian: hey Adam we had to stop for a night due to storm clouds were blocking the way.

Adam: oh I see well I've made it to the ranch I hope you come soon.

Adrian: alright see you soon.

12:00 pm the team had made it to Amarillo and as soon as jimmy landed Adrian took off to find his brother he than saw the house and the three barns.

Adrian's phone goes off and it was a text from his brother.

Adam: hey little bro are you here?

Adrian: hey yeah I'm at the ranch where you at?

Adam: I'm in the old house I'll unlock the door for you.

Adrian: alright I'm on my way

Adrian than walked to the house and went inside as soon as he stepped in he saw Adam sitting on the couch talking with an man in his late 50s as Adam stood up he ran to Adrian and hugged him as he really missed him.

Adrian: it's so good to see you again you would not believe how much I missed you.

Adam: same every day back in college I kept on thinking about you and that we would reunite one day.

Adrian: Adam who is that man ?

Adam: oh this is mom and dad's attorney as soon as I was coming up here I got a call from him that he would meet us here to discuss about the property and to give us the keys for this house and the three barns out side. His name is Mr. Wilkinson.

Mr.Wilkinson: pleasure to meet you two I've been with your parents from when we were in college now I just wanted to say that they left you this property and a good amount of money for the both of you in one of the barns. Here are the keys for the house, the three barns and I don't know what these keys open but you can figure it out .also this letter is for both for you. and if you have any questions please don't hesitate to call my office.

He hands Adam a card with his office phone number and left to his car in a hurry as he was late for a meeting. Meanwhile Adrian's creature pod was buzzing and then a hologram of Chris appeared.

Chris: Adrian where are you?

Adrian: Chris I'm so sorry I'm at my family's ranch I'm with my brother in a brown two story house. And next to it are three barns one is small one is medium and large

Chris: alright we're on our way. (End of call)

Adrian: Adam I would like for you to meet some friends of mine.

As Adrian leads Adam to the Tortuga on the way they met up with Chris,Martin and Jingfei .

Martin: there you are Adrian where were you?

Adrian: I went to meet up with my brother and we now own this ranch now. Adam you remember Martin the one in green is Chris his younger brother,and I also want you to meet Jingfei she lived in the fujian province in China.

Adam: it's nice to meet you all I'm Adam Adrian's older brother if you don't know.

Chris: I've had some idea that you were the oldest.

Jingfei: it's nice to meet you Adam I didn't know that you were the oldest I thought Adrian was the oldest.

Martin: Adrian just to let you know Aviva wants to talk to you, you have to go.

Adrian: alright I'll head there now

As Adrian heads back to the Tortuga Adam leads the trio to the house to show them around.

As Adrian was close to the Tortuga He then sees Aviva looking at the house and farm.

Adrian: hey you feeling alright?

Aviva: hey look I'm sorry for bursting out like that last night it's just I don't like it when animals are hurt or killed. Also how's your arm.

Adrian: so far it's still healing but it's doing alright. But I understand I felt scared and sad that this one time some guy and his friends killed a baby seal and recorded the thing that when they showed it on the news I was shocked. they were minding their own business but here comes these men bashing babies in their heads with a club just to make a quick buck, it saddens me. So you have every right to be upset I felt guilty for shocking the poor creature, so can we still be friends?

Aviva: yes we're still friends you know your alright kid.

Adrian: want to look around the house and the barns? my brother and I haven't Opened up the barns there are many surprises waiting ahead.

Aviva: sure I'll let Koki and jimmy tag along.

As Aviva was getting Koki and jimmy, Adrian went back to his brother and saw him outside the small barn. Adam opens the door and inside there was a small chicken coop at first they thought it was empty till Adrian heard a little peep. He rushed to the coop to see that a chick was hatched he showed it to his friends and brother they were filled with joy that the chick hatched. Then Adrian asks Adam if he can open up the medium barn, Adam gave Adrian the key and before he opens up the door he listened for any animals till he heard a familiar noise.

He opens the door and he saw ten cows in the first row and in the back he saw eight horses

He went to the back row and the horses had different pelts the first one was a red with white spots,the second one had an all golden yellow pelt, the third had a all black pelt, the fourth had a all brown pelt, the Fifth had a brown with white pelt, the sixth had a all white pelt,the seventh had a all grey pelt, and the last one was all red pelt. As Adam and the others went to the medium barn they saw Adrian admiring the horses and wanted to choose the horse they want to ride. Adrian: Adam can I have the golden horse?

Adam: sure little bro but you've got to take care of him you hear?

Adrian: I hear you and I promise to take care of him.

Adrian opens the stable to the golden horse, he admired the animal and its beauty.the horse looked at him in the eye and snorted and put his head down to allow Adrian to feel his hair and to stroke him.

Adrian grabbed a pile of hay and puts it next to the animal, the horse started to eat it, than Adrian grabs a bucket and filled the tub with water for the horse to drink.

Adrian: now all I have to do is name you, what about dexter?

The horse snorted meaning he does not approve.

Adrian: ok off the list what about gold?

The horse whines as he likes the name.

Adrian: ok I can tell you like the name well I've got to go I'll see you tomorrow gold.

Adrian closes the stable and heads to the barn entrance. Adam gives Adrian the big barn key and starts to head there before he unlocks the door he puts his ear close to listen for any animals but he heard nothing. He unlocks the door and it was pitch black nor Adrian and Adam can't see. They went inside to feel for a switch. Later Adam found a big lever and flipped it up one by one a light would turn on and they were surprised to their discovery.

There was a red and turquoise 1950 Chevrolet truck than Adam and Adrian saw the two keys and thought that maybe it would turn on. So Adam gave Adrian a key and went to the turquoise while Adrian went inside the red, Adrian puts the key in the ignition and turns it till

Adam: I'll be damned these old trucks works.

Then Adrian and Adam turn off the trucks and as Adam stepped out of the barn Adrian went to the very back and noticed that there was a secret door and Adrian pushed it open it was dark till he found the light switch, he saw a bunch of weapons. He saw a double barrel shotgun, some revolver pistols, a Winchester and Henry repeating rifle, and a bow with arrows.

Adrian: I hope that we won't go to a point where we have to use them.

He picked up the pistol and opened up the chambers and saw that they are all empty than he put it back on the table. Adrian promise himself not to tell anyone about the room except for Adam since they owned the ranch.

Adrian was about to leave the barn before he left he turned off the light to the secret room.

It was sunset around 7:00 pm and everyone was going to the house Adrian sat on the couch and Jingfei sat next to him and wanted to hug him.

Jingfei: hey Adrian I just want to say thank you for not leaving me.

Adrian: I care about you I don't want you to be living in the streets fujian plus I made a promise to your grandma that I would never leave you for another girl or for nothing you are the only one In my world as well as Adam and the brothers.

Adam: hey little bro Um I wanted to ask you if you want to have a room in the first floor or the second floor?

Adrian: hmm I think the second floor sounds nice.

Adam: alright Thanks for letting me know.

Adrian went to the HQ to grab all his clothes and belongings as soon as he grabs them he then went to the second floor of the house and he saw an empty bed room that's has its own bathroom in it he then puts the clothes that are in hangers In his closet and his shorts and boxers in the drawers he then had a mirror attached to the drawers next to his window and in front of the bed was an armoire with two big doors as he opens them there was a tv with a cable box Blu-ray player and a Xbox one inside and in the bottom was two drawers and as he opens the first one he saw that there was big case he pulls it out and saw that there was gold that was worth millions and that there was 50,000 dollars and that there was a golden revolver pistol as well as a golden m1911 colt semi automatic pistol. He puts the case back and closes the first drawer, he then opens the second one and inside there was a belt with a two holsters attached on the left and right side. And there was three boxes the first one said revolver ammo the second one said 1911 ammo and the third one said 12 gauge shells. Adrian reaches deep into the drawer and pulls out a pump action shotgun that was sawed off and was able to carry in the pouch of his horse saddle.

Adrian closes the drawers and decided to shower, after he was done he put on some black shorts and a white tank top and headed down stairs to make himself something to eat.

When he was heading down he then bumps into Chris and wanted to talk to him in private.

Adrian leads Chris into his room and closes the door.

Adrian: what's the matter Chris?

Chris: well I've been wondering is it ok for you and your brother that If we can stay here for a year or two?

Adrian: yeah sure you are all allowed to stay here as long as you want but I mean you all have to help around the ranch of course and not to mention you all have your own horses to take care of as well remember that I helped you out when I first met you all well I'm doing you a very big favor by Letting you all to stay.

Chris: thanks you are a life saver there are times where I would like to stay in one area and not travel at times.

Adrian: I know how that feels you ain't alone ok.

9:00 pm Adrian was in the kitchen going through pantries and fridge to find something to cook till he found some burger patties in the freezer and some buns in the pantry, he then put some oil on a pan and turned on the stove. Than as soon as the pan is hot enough he cooks the burgers. 9:25 pm Adrian was done making the burgers and passed them out for his family to eat. 10:30 pm Adrian was in his room watching some old episodes of Wild Kratts before he goes to sleep to prevent anyone from hearing he connects his Bluetooth earphones to listen and as soon as the episode finishes he heads to sleep.

12:00am Adrian kept on tossing and turning in his bed as he is having the same dream as he and gold were riding till something startles gold and bucks him off onto a cactus and was saved by Native American tribe and discovers that the wolf spirit was in him.

[barchiestories]

I can't lose her (part 2)

Archie looked in the mirror, he was dressed head to toe in the tissue like fabric, even his feet were covered.

The image of Betty being wheeled off replayed over and over in his mind. Even though it had only happened 15 minutes ago

“Mr.Andrews “ a nurse’s voice broke his daydream.

He looked toward the woman

“We’re ready for you if you’d follow me” she waved.

Archie followed her down the hall to a room

“Archie!” Betty sighed

He rushed to her side. They already had a curtain up below her chest

“I was scared they were going to forget to go and get you and start the surgery without you here” she breathed

He ran a hand through her hair “I’m here” he said looking at her adoringly. The same way he had since they were in third grade

They began the caesarean, Archie sat at Betty’s head.

“Dad wanna come down here and see the action?” Dr.Floyd offered from Betty’s pelvic area.

Archie shook his head “I’ll stay up here with her”

A couple minutes passed, nurses passed The doctor tools and such as he yelled out terms.

Betty was biting her lip and making odd facial expressions

“You okay babe? Are you not completely numb? Should I stop them?” He asked worried

Betty shook her head “No I can’t feel anything, it just feels funny.” She explained

He nodded rubbing the pad of his thumb over her forehead soothingly. A few more minutes passed till finally.

“It’s a girl!” Dr.Floyd announced holding up a baby. She didn’t look like Fenix did when he was born. Like an average newborn she was bloody with pink skin. But she was so tiny and skinny looking.

Archie looked down at Betty and smiled “Hear that Bets? We have identical twin girls”

She gave him a tired smile “Yeah” She mustard out.

Another cry filled the room, “And of course baby B is a girl as well! “ Dr.Floyd announced holding up the second baby who looked just like the first .

Archie leaned down kissing Betty’s temple “You did great my love”

He was ready for them to bring the babies to them for them to hold and meet. With Fenix as soon as Betty pushed him out they laid him immediately on her chest.

But this birth was very different . He watched as two nurses carried their babies away.

“Hey stop!” Archie stood up, but still held Betty’s hand “Where are they taking our babies?” He asked looking at a nurse since Dr.Floyd was busy finishing stitching Betty up.

She looked at him, seemingly annoyed “To the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, they need to be evaluated.”

He looked down at Betty, through her tired look she seemed worried too “Go to our babies Arch.”

He shook his head squatting down to her “Im not leaving you.”

She gave him a weak smile “I’m fine, they’ll wheel me back to the room. And that’s about it, but our babies need you.” She encouraged

He nodded “I’ll come back with an update as soon as possible “ he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before leaving the room.

He easily found the NICU, but wasn’t allowed to just walk in. He had to show Id to prove he was the little girls’ father.

Once inside a nurse lead him to an incubator, inside where the two tiny babies laid. He had taken note though that they weren’t the smallest. There were others who seemed smaller. With cords,tubes and wires connected to their little bodies. It didn’t seem right that babies just starting out at life had to fight so hard to live.

“We see where they get it.” The nurse smiled

He rose an eyebrow “Get what?”

Then he saw what the nurse meant. Both girls had small little swirls of red hair on top of their little heads

Archie was surprised when he looked at his girls, they each only had one tube on them.

“This is baby A, She has a tube in her mouth because she is having a hard time eating.” She pointed to one “But she’s breathing great on her own.”

Then she pointed to the other baby “This is Baby B, she has a tube on her nose because unlike her sister she is eating on her own fine but not breathing on her own as good as we’d like.”

He nodded peering into the babies machine. They were tiny and wrinkly and aside from their red hair it was hard to pinpoint who they looked like

“Do they have names?” The nurse asked

Archie looked up to meet her eyes “My wife and I have some chosen but I want her to meet them before we choose”

She nodded understandably “You can tell your wife that they are of identical heights both are 15 inches”

He nodded wanting her to continue

“Baby A weighs 3.3lbs and baby B weighs 3.5lbs. At this point we don’t know how long they will stay here. It all depends on how soon they start eating and breathing on their own and gaining weight.”

He nodded

“Skin to skin is great therapy for them. Would you like to do it?” She asked

Archie nodded, when he took off his shirt he didn’t notice the stares he got from some of the other woman in the room. He was more focused on the elderly nurse who was carefully taking Baby A out of the incubator. He sat in a chair, the woman gently placed her on his bare chest,she went back and got Baby B doing the same. She covered them with a warm blanket.

Archie looked down at his girls on his chest “Nice to meet you princesses. I’m your daddy”

Baby B’s lip quirked up and he smiled “Yeah? You like the sound of that?” He loved the feeling of holding his little girls “Your mommy is going to be so happy to hear you’re doing well. She is resting right now but just wait till you meet her.” He smiled “She’s the best. We’ve known each other since we were 4....pretty cool huh?”

He sighed reveling in the moment “You have a brother-Fenix. He’s two...almost 3 and so excited to be a big brother. Hopefully the excitement stays when he finds out you guys are girls.” He chuckled “Don’t tell anyone but I’ve always wanted a little girl. And now look at me. I have 2”

He stayed there with the girls on his chest till the nurse came back and said it was time for them to go back into the machine.

Archie complied, giving his girls a kiss on the tops of their heads. Bidding them a goodbye before going to Betty.

She slept for another hour after he entered the room, Archie waited at her bedside. Eventually Betty woke up, a smile playing her lips when she saw him “How are my babies?” She asked immediately

He smiled “They’re doing alright” he assured, pulling out his phone to show her the photos he had taken.

Betty smiled “They have red hair” she noted

“Yeah they do. And they’re beautiful like their mommy” he leaned forward pecking her lips

Betty continued to look at the photo “What is the tubes on them for?” She asked

He sighed “Baby A is breathing fine but needs help eating. Baby B is eating fine but needs help breathing. The nurse seemed to think they’ll be okay though” he assured “They’re both 15 inches long. Baby A weighs 3.3 lbs and baby B is 3.5”

She nodded “As soon as they let me get up we are going down there so I can meet my babies and we can name them.” She pointed

Archie nodded “Yeah, I don’t want to be referring to them as Baby A and Baby B forever.” He teased

She smiled at Him

The next day they approved her to go downstairs as long as Archie was pushing her in a wheel chair. She held baby B he held Baby A

“So,” the lady smiled “Any names?”

Archie nodded at the baby in his arms “Well Betty we decided when I named Fenix we’d take turns naming our kids. Since this is Baby A you name her.”

She smiled reaching out an arm, he rested baby in it so she could look at her, she ran a finger along the bridge of her nose “Parker. After Dorthy Parker. My favorite poet.”

Archie smiled taking Baby B from her arms “That means it’s your turn to name her” Betty nodded, he grinned

“Presley, after Elvis Presley....he was one of my dads favorite singers.” Archie smiled down at the newborn.

The woman smiled “Its great to have something to call these little ladies now. But it’s time for them to go back into the incubator “ she informed taking Presley from Archie ”Gotta let them ’bake’ as much as possible so they can come home” she smiled getting Perker from Betty.

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

Three weeks later they were strapping their babies into their car seats. They were officially breathing and eating on their own.

Baby A-Parker was now and even 5lbs and baby B Parker was 5.3lbs

“You ladies ready to go meet your big brother?” Archie cooed

Betty smiled “And dont forget Gram Gram Andrews” she said happily ”Even though she's already met you guys.”

Archie nodded ”And all your aunts and uncles. Everyone is so excited to meet you two”. He adjusted the straps on Parker’s car seat to ensure it was correct

He grabbed one car seat in each hand and looked toward Betty ”You ready?”

”Defintly” she nodded

He grinned ”This is it. No turning back now. Once we are home we will be a family of 5 instead of 3. It's going to be crazy”

Betty smiled, it was crazy to think, they would possibly have one more after this (Archie wanted a big family) ”With you by my side I can handle anything” she leaned toward him

Archie grinned leaning over and pecking her lips ”I couldn't agree more.”

Together they walked out of the hospital with their two healthy baby girls.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

Noragami/Wall-E AU

Prologue

The air was a visible mustard brown with dirt particles and other debris mixed in. It gave the natural sunlight a dull glow, just enough to illuminate the hunks of useless metal that orbited the planet. On the planet, similar junk made up mountains, piled high against windmills and phone poles. Lose paper and plastic bags caught against the skeletons of old sky scrapers that have long-since collapsed into more rubble. Everything old, rusted, and abandoned; covered in the same brown dust that seemed to make up the planet itself.

On the outskirts of the city, the trash dunes were much smaller. Pressed into compact squares and piled into neater cubes. Pathways between these heaps curved and stretched on for miles, the darker shade of brown the dirt made showing which were the most traveled on. Traveling at a relaxed pace, an object made it's way through the cubes with practiced ease, not even glancing at it's surroundings. Old 80s music echoed from the object, traveling without any clash.

The speaker was a small, bright pink electronic, plugged into another machine. This machine was imbedded into a creature that was once human, but now a cyborg of ancient technology, made only to clean up the leftovers of man-kind's time on Earth. As he traveled, a short breeze or two ruffled his black hair, greasily pulled back into a short pony tail. The pink iPod was shoved into the pocket of a light brown fullbody coverall. One of many small nicknacks in one of many pockets. The jean fabric more than wore down, but with every rip stitched back together almost seamlessly. On his right breast pocket, the name 'Yato' was stitched in black, below the title 'Wall-E'.

The trash cleaner made his way to the nearest non-compacted trash pile and took a deep breath through his oxygen mask. Sitting down the small cooler he carried, Yato reached above his shoulder to grab hold of a lean metal handle, his brain send the signal for object to unlock. The metal clasps embedded in his back fell open and the flatted compactor came lose. He brought it to the front of him and set it on the ground. Opposite to the handle was a folded steel box that would click into shape. In the middle was a heaver iron square that molded into the handle. Once set up, all the cyborg had to do was gather as much trash as can fit in the hollow box bring the handle- with the lid- on top and press down. After the trash was in a neat square, the Wall-E would yank the handle up and let the cube roll out before placing it next to the billions of others.

This jostling woke up a small cockroach, who peaked outside a soup can to see what the ruckus was. At the sight of the cyborg, the insect squeaked and made her way over to the pile that only grew as the years went by. She made her way up the piles without much effort and sat herself on the new block. At the sound of her squeak the trash-collector turned with a wide smile.

"Stray!" he exclaimed cheerfully, "You're awake! Goodmorning!"

At his words, the cockroach let out an annoyed shriek. Yato recoiled but never ceased smiling.

"Sorry. Nora. There is that better?" Yato reached a hand out to her waiting for her to climb on. Nora flicked her antenna and crawled on slowly, with her nose in the air.

"I don't know why you like the japansese way better," he said as she settled on his shoulder, "though I guess Nora is more of a name." he mumbled the last part. Grinning at her when she chirped in agreement.

To his left, something shiny caught his eye. Making his way over to it, Yato moved aside some old newspapers and found a trash can lid. He held it up and watched as the sunlight shone even brighter against the silver disk. Yato's blue eyes didn't look away as he moved the light to different parts of the lid.

"Pretty cool, huh? Rare to find something not rusted." He said, walking back to where he left the cooler and placing it with the other treasures found earlier that day. On his shoulder, Nora's head made the movement of rolling her eyes. Yato contiuned back down the path that winded around a skyscraper made of the trash-cubes. Nora faithfully on his shoulder. He made his way past the abandoned super store, its food long since degraded and any other item caked in dust. Some of the hallow gram advertisements flickered on and off, their color long since dulled and the music coming out slow and deep. One sign stood out to him, just for a moment, the sign posted across the globe long long ago. "Become a Wall-E and save the world! Be taken care of and live for ETERNITY!"

Yato remembers his father, a biotechnical engineer who lost all faith in mankind. Who chose to stay far away from the rest of humanity- here on Earth- but remained human. He remembers being the first sucessful Wall-E test subject of his father's design. Outliving his creator and all the other Wall-E volunteers who later realized money is irrelevant as a cyborg without a government.

Nora made a soft noise and Yato gave her a small smile- covered by the oxygen mask- and continued on his way, his footsteps echoing in the empty city.

When they made it to the train tracks, Yato looked both ways out of habit, then made his way north. Walking down the tracks, Yato stood above 'The Graveyard'. A place where Wall-Es that forever stopped working were laid. Most of their organic bodies have eroded away, leaving behind their inorganic parts. The young woman he helped lay down decades ago, was a special friend to Yato. the last of the Wall-Es. Except for himself. Yato took a deep breath in, his filter has become more and more worn down by the particles.

The stairs creaked as Yato padded down them, dirt falling in an avalanche to the ground below. He silently and carefully weaved among the older remains, looking to take only what he needed. One mask looked hardly touched, so he pocketed his old one and quickly exchanged the new. It wasn't as if he lungs needed clean oxygen, but the filtration is what kept him going so long in the first place. The owner of this one, either ignored it in favor of their new 'immortality', or no longer wanted to live forever.

By now Yato had reached the old transit staion. Large bridges connected to tall stair cases that hovered over empty terminals, deep enough to fit a blue whale and long enough to fit the Empire State building. Twelve of these ports were lined up for this station, all empty without waiting for return. More advertisements flickered into action as the Wall-E went by. Nora hissed at the reassurance the audio gave as it showed family deals for the Outer Space Luxury Cruise Liner. Pictures of Yato's former colleges compressing the trash in the local dump flashed by in a promise for the humans to return to a better home.

As he walked through more advertisements popped up, one for the main cruise: "Heaven's Sun"- mostly just called Heaven-which would hold the majority of the upper class and the worker-bots like Yato, as well as the very first space branch military. It held promise of the best food, comfort, and entertainment out of all the other cruises. Heaven's Sun is lead in this flocks departure, with a captain and cyborg copilot.

Yato stared again at the picture as the advertisement kept glitching. The promise was for five years. It was well past that. Of course the planet wasn't cleaned up yet, so of course they weren't back. But Yato hasn't heard word from Heaven asking for an update, or if they were even coming back. Or even if they were still out there.

On his shoulder, Nora buzzed. Yato didn't look at her.

"Did I ever tell you my dad designed the copilot after he worked on me?"

Nora didn't answer. He had, many, many times. The two had long since run out of new things to talk about, other than Yato's dreams or things Nora found. The copilot stared back with glowing red eyes and a small smile, his hair a light brown color, it matched the dust that littered the atmosphere.

By the time Yato made it home, it was dusk. He lived in an old massive semi-trailer, modified to open only at the pull of a lever. The inside was also modified to have rotating shelves, in order to neatly hold all of Yato's findings and necessities. Odd shiny nicknacks tied together with string hung from the ceiling, along side Christmas lights and posters. The lamps and lights all connected flickered on once Yato flicked up a hanging switch.

Once the door was closed and the air filter was on, Yato tugged off the mask letting out a large sigh, hanging it up on a hook. He then took off his ascot and hung that up too, before letting his hair fall out of its tie. He then set down his cooler of goodies and opened it. First came the trash lid, which he placed with the other shinnies. Next came some Capybara land keychains- each wearing different color overalls and a crown- which went with the other small Capybara toys. He continued emptying the box, a lighter with other lighters, a glass bottle, a pink scarf.

He had a movie playing in the background, often playing it when he got ready for work in the morning but it was finished by the usual clock-out time. But today he had called it quits early, so the movie was on the final scene. The lady capybara and the man capybara having successfully made it to an island together, after a harrowing journey. Yato crept closer with shiny eyes. They sang a beautiful song of love, having made it through together because of it and now never having to be alone.

Yato numbly took out his iPod and hit record, placing it next to the TV's speaker. His eyes never leaving the screen. He watched them sing while gazing into each other's eyes, their hands held between them, twining together seamlessly. When they leaned in for a kiss, Yato's eyes got even bigger and his heart did a bittersweet dance.

The movie then faded to black and showed the names of humans that created it. He sighed again and clicked the television off, taking his iPod as he did so. Walking back towards the the door he opened it again, placing the mask back on as he did so. He then plopped down on the ramp and began shaking out his cooler, feeling the wind shift as he did.

Yato looked up as he dusted the box, and himself, off. The smog clearing so that the stars could be visible. It filled Yato with the same wispy feeling the movie did, so he pressed play on his new recording. It echoed off of the small round speaker just under his chin, filling his bones with the melody. That was until is mainframe sent an alert through it. The song cut out as the alarm blared though the night. His blue eyes quickly flickered back and forth, numbers and words flashing through his parifial.

His vision went red when he focused to the front of him, the words 'Weather Alert' and 'Danger' flashing. A massive dust cloud was barrelling towards his home at an alarming rate. This wasn't common, but it wasn't unheard of. Regardless, Yato quickly got back inside, calling Nora as he did so, and shut the door before any dirt could get in.

He wouldn't be able to go out for a while so, it was time to hit the sack. Yato gave Nora some food, eating some dry ramen as well, then made his way to the bare mattress in the far corner next to the TV. He flopped down and threw the blanket haphazardly over himself, ordering his system to set an alarm for the morning, then go into sleep mode. Yato was asleep instantly.

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations DEAN! You’ve been accepted as JANUS with a FC change to CASEY DEIDRICK.

Dean, first let me say that when I saw an app from you in our inbox I screamed! Now, onto business. The way you created a backstory for Jackson that starts in Las Vegas and ends in Chicago kept me hanging on each and every word. I have to admit, the detail about how there’s only one form of identification with his true face and name was one of my favorite parts! I also loved how you broke name his name - it’s a little detail that went a long way in figuring out who Jackson is. We’re so excited to have you back on the dash and with our Janus! 

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

NAME/ALIAS: Dean

PRONOUNS: She/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT, fairly active

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Jackson Sawyer Raemers

GENDER/PRONOUNS: He/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS: This is where you show us who the character is to you! The format of this doesn’t matter, whether it’s in bullet points or in para form, and can be as long as you’d like it to be. Feel free to get creative!

The name Jackson is a Scottish name. In Scottish the meaning of the name Jackson is: God has been gracious; has shown favour. Based on John or Jacques.

Sawyer was an English meaning, a occupational name for someone who earned his living by sawing wood, Middle English saghier, an agent derivative of sagh(en) ‘to saw’.

Raemers based on Ramer, The oldest form of the name is “Reinmar” or “Reginmar,” which literally meant “famous councillor.” Always prominent in social affairs.

He’s a walking contradiction, his mind never 100% made on a singular motive and distraction easily pulled him from one thing to the next. Jackson’s chaos is a subtle one, orchestrated solely for his own enjoyment until there’s reason to repel against something or someone. Opinionated in a way in which his argument could be swerved from one side the the other only because he wanted to play devil’s advocate and test other people’s beliefs because it gives him comfort to see witness the grey spots in other’s morals.

A lot of what he does was born from his own insecurities, the voice in the back of his head telling him that we were more worthless than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes. So he hides his true self carefully, uses masks of humour and then hides behind other peoples identities. Carefully packaging away his own demons with false confidence that couldn’t be questioned.

BIO:

Fraud and robberies became second nature, easier than breathing yet essential to keep his head from sinking below the water. It was ironic, how swift his own actions turned from survival to pure indulgence. Disordered violence increasingly becomes addictive due to the way it supplied him with a steady rush of endorphins. The taste of rebellion even more rewarding when it was fuelled by the very mutation that he’d been discriminated for his entire life. He’d unlocked his true potential, a criminal with the ability to morph fluidly from one appearance to the next.

He supposes it was a form of obsession, in contrast to his former self, an upbringing spent repressing his powers to appease his terrified parents who feared the opinion of the neighbourhood than what may become of their son by neglecting a key part of his identity. Living life as an outlaw, adorning himself in tourist t-shirts and tacky dollar store sunglasses was a vast improvement. A lifestyle that saw him existing out of the trunk of his car, mustard stains from a drive-thru burger discolouring the map which lay open on his passenger seat, red ink circling his next destination. He couldn’t picture himself living an average life, didn’t want to be another cog in a well oiled cooperate machine where he’d become just another number sat at a desk until he’d worked up enough hours to pay off a mortgage.

Jackson’s luck fell short, naturally, the second his car pulled into sin city. Las Vegas with the luminosity of neon lights and slot machines was the single worst decision he could have made. Worse than disowning his family, worse than his impulsive decision making when getting tattoos and maybe even worse than the time he’d shifted into the body of a girl scout in some desperate attempt of getting a dozen boxes of thin mints free of charge. But like a moth to a flame, it was the adrenaline that led him to do it. Shifting from one casino owner to the next, he’d committed fraud multiple times each night and donate the remainder of the money after he’d loaded up on hawaiian shirts and sugary snacks, to organisations working against mutant laws and discrimination. Like a modern day Robin Hood, only driving a rusted up old Chevrolet in dire need of a new paint job.

It’s a mixture of arrogance and a blimp in his concentration that causes it to all unravel. Facading as a beer bellied Elvis impersonator in one of the chapels, he’d spent the evening pick pocketing gambling money from unsuspecting intoxicated couples who’d been making poor life decisions. It was easy work which naturally meant he’d become sloppy, the sort of stupidity that lands him an evening in police custody and unable to show any identification on himself other than a driving license that matches his true appearance. Jackson Sawyer Raemers, born November 22nd in the state of Arizona, an individual with an outstanding warrant for his arrest and a suspected mutant. There’s no court trial, no mention of imprisonment or bail. Instead he’s transported overnight to a medical research facility, sedated and left to answer for his crimes in what he would deem to be the pits of hell.

He’s carefully monitored, pumped with medication and used as a lab rat for illnesses to watch how his mutation may help him to recover- if at all. Cut open and stitched together again, regular interviews for insights on his ability and encouraged with rewards to see how far he could push his powers under supervision. Of course those rewards never met anything more exciting than a pudding cup with lunch or a ten minute stoll in the security monitored outdoor area. The three years he’s trapped there he learns a few things about himself and his mutation; no matter how many times they tried they couldn’t replicate it in a tube, even with the ability of cell reconstruction this hadn’t granted him immunity from the common cold and pudding cups definitely weren’t worth the amount effort he’d been putting in for them.

It was entirely by chance that a group of enraged mutants in the facility had grouped together to form a riot. The building caught up in an intentional blaze that triggered cell doors to swing open and allow their occupants to vacate. With such a perfect diversion in place, Jackson takes his opportunity to escape by shifting into the appearance of one of the women who had been treating him. Able to use her fingerprints to unlock the exit, the first thing he does is hot wires the Mercedes in the parking lot and takes off back on the road. They say old habits die hard, much could be said the same for Jackson. How easily he fell back into his old games of identity theft as if three years worth of reflection had taught him nothing.

He returns to what he does best, only now it was personal, the lust of rebellion replaced with spite for those who had been disceting him like a science project. Jackson spends his time examining the faces that appear in the media voice against mutant rights and the research entrepreneurs that treated as nothing more than a paycheck. It’s how he finds himself in Chicago, rumoured a place that was almost a santuary for mutants where he’d be able to meet like minded individuals. And of course, it’s how he finds The Jem Family. He’s still not entirely sure why Damien had taken a liking towards him, his only redeemable factor being that he was reckless enough to not question any given orders in which other members may shudder at. It was an overwhelming sense of finally belonging to something, that he’d mattered outside of his own world and could really make a difference.  

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Luca Medoza: He finds them entertaining, his own laid back rebellion in contrast to something much bolder. Subtle versus out right in your face. He’d spend a lot of time with Luca, telling her what had happened in the latest true crime series he’d been watching and not minding too much when the only thing she picks up on was that he’d spent 10 hours straight binge watching on Netflix again.

Neve Kaplan: She’s the first person in a long time that he doesn’t hide any aspect of himself from. He let her see every aspect of his personality, the gritty details and forbidden secrets he hadn’t dared to share with anyone else. For a while she’d been his home, the missing part of the puzzle that could take the bitterness away and ease his own reckless behaviours, until she’s gone. It still stings when he see’s her, but it’s also a pleasant reminder that at least what he’d felt had been real.

Cain Douglas: He gets pleasure out of his visits and will show up even if the damage is nothing spectacular. He’s absolutely rolled up with a paper cut before and made it out as if he’d lost a limb over texts on his way there. Jackson gets most his kicks from aggravating the hell out of people and with Cain it was almost too easy. Although when he is genuinely hurt it does become a little more difficult of Cain to take him seriously with all the jokes he plays. Sometimes he’ll fake an injury just to get some advice, doctors and therapists are basically the same thing, right?

EXTRA: This section is completely optional. You can add anything here such as: more para samples, headcanons, mock blogs, edits, playlists, etc. Please note that because it is optional, putting everything or nothing in this section will not be a determining factor in your application. This is just for fun!

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/dean_ie/janus/

Tag: https://stereotypicalcancerwrites.tumblr.com/tagged/ch:%20jackson%20raemers

-Jackson is obsessed with snacking, or any opportunity to stuff his face with food really. He’ll take it personal if you go out for a meal and he doesn’t get an invite.

-He can’t function without a morning coffee. 3 shots served black with one spoonful of sugar. He’ll have another at noon because he’s a night owl and eternally paying the price.

-He has a fear of blood, it makes him feel dizzy and he’s absolutely the worst person to have around if you were in a serious injury. He’d pass out before you would.

-Jackson can sing The Element Song by Tom Lehrer perfectly from memory.

-He has a habit of seeing the world from a very cynical perspective and is always anticipating the worst to happen in any given situation. It allows him to feel less surprised or out of control when things do turn sour.

-Jackson has a doberman named Bella, as in Bella Swan- he was trying to be funny

-He doesn’t trust easily and as a result he’s pretty distant. He’s always got a guard up and is very reluctant to let people into his life as most people that have seen the real him have resulted in negative connotation.

-He is allergic to shellfish so if someone wanted to kill him…

-He is always using humour and bad behaviour as a defense mechanism from people getting too close to see the real him.

-He had a stutter as a kid due to low self-esteem. It occasionally comes back when he’s stressed or upset. It’s one of the giveaways for his shapeshifting.

-Jackson is a reckless driver

-He’s obsessed with 1970s music

-Jackson is a hoarder, he collects a lot of pointless stuff like the top of bottle caps, funny slogan tshirts and cheap sunglasses from dollar stores

-He hates having to dress up formally, he feels like it draws attention to him and not in a funny showing off sort of way

-He has numerous tattoos and none of them were what you’d consider ‘good’, they’re shitty or only there to illustrate some pun or memory of a drunken evening. He’s upset some of the scars from the research facility have beheaded a hulahooping stick men on his leg.

ANYTHING ELSE: Did you have any questions or any changes you wanted to discuss with us beforehand?

FC change to Casey Deidrick

[topazshadowwolf]

Calming Stress

A while back, my friend @goosygander came to me asking if I wanted to do an art trade. I agreed and my end of the trade was to write a fic that followed up on a short role play we did with Goosy’s Red, an Underfell/Gaster Blaster Sans, and an Underfell Torel. The way the request was worded I saw fit to add as much wonderful fluff in along with the angst you often see in those two AUs. The end results Goosy enjoyed greatly. So, here it is: AO3 version

Calming Stress

Underfell/Gaster Blaster AU Soriel fic By Topaz Shadowwolf

Even before the show they were watching together ended, the skeleton beside her had drifted off to sleep. Most days, she would be annoyed and would try to wake him up, but this time she couldn't bring herself to do so. Her poor skeleton friend had shown up in such rough shape, that she just had to let him rest. Besides, having him here, and beside her, was enough to help fend off the past that haunted her thoughts. She shouldn't, but Toriel couldn't help but wrap the skeleton up into a proper hug, pulling him onto her lap in the process. Finding a spot to rest her cheek was not as easy as it would have been if his skull was not semi-spiky. His usual smooth skull looked perfect for this simple act of affection, but her efforts paid off as she found a spot right on top, just before his horns and his skull connect. It felt perfect, like it was meant for her cheek to rest there. His tail, though, was another matter. She had to be careful with it. She knew, from past experiences, that if it curled or bent the wrong way it could cause him a lot of pain. With how long the extra limb was at the moment, it would be easy to wake him in discomfort or pain if she was not mindful. Still, even if some might consider the extra attention she had to pay to his tail annoying, she still loved that part of him when he was in this form. It was far more expressive than he liked to be. It did so many different acts to display his mood, though sadly it was mostly fearful and nervous reactions. But, around her, he did seem to relax enough to display happiness and even annoyance when she teased him. She held him until the cold, haunting memories of being in the Ruins faded and she no longer felt alone within her self-made isolation again. It was unfair to use him as a source of comfort like that, especially since he was sleep and unable to provide his feelings about being a tool for her sanity. But, at the same time, she couldn't help herself. All she could do was hope he didn’t wake and find himself like this. To have him angry at her for holding him like a stuffed toy would break her soul. Losing him in her life is something she could not afford and deeply feared. She was already so alone... She loved Frisk, she really did, but she needed someone else here, someone she could love in a different way. It was getting late, and she picked Sans up and carried him to the guest room. She would have loved to talk to him more, but that will have to wait until morning. Maybe then she could find out why he was had been wearing half the condiments from his hotdog stand. The poor dear looked so stressed and dejected when he showed up at her doorstep. At least she was able to give him a chance to clean up and a change of clothes.

She set the sleeping skeleton on the bed then left to tend his dirty clothes. She could still smell the grease and mix of relish, ketchup, and mustard on them. The mustard smell was one she had grown used to. It was just a part of Sans, as far as she was concerned. Smelling it brought him to mind, and she has found herself using the condiment more. She also kept more stashed away for him. But, as much as that smell was a part of him, mustard didn’t need to be all over his clothes. Some would say she has grown soft, that she is not the terror of the Ruins she once was. But she still had her temper, and she didn’t like strangers, especially around her child. Sans isn’t a stranger; so, she will wash his clothes as promised. She pretreated some areas, knowing if she didn't they would only turn to stains. Once ready, she placed them in the washing machine and started the wash. Toriel then considered her options for a moment before returning to her sofa and grabbed a book to read. She was feeling better just knowing someone else was in the house; but, she couldn’t stand the silence. She turned on the TV but kept the volume low, not wanting to risk waking up Sans. Not that it would. The dear has proven to her he had the ability to sleep through almost anything.

After a while, she heard the sound that signaled that the wash was done. Toriel placed a bookmark in her spot before she stood up to make her way back to the laundry room. She should have put them in the dryer in the morning and tried to get some sleep, but she just didn't sleep as easily as the skeleton in her guest room. Grabbing his clothes out of the machine, she placed them in the dryer. They can at least start drying, and if she decides to go to bed halfway through, she'll stop the load and restart it in the morning. On her way back she heard a noise at her front door and paused. No... no, she was hearing things, she was always hearing things. Her paws moved to her mouth as she tried to calm her breathing. There were no more fallen humans, no more need to venture out to make sure a child isn't killed before she could protect them. No more need to guard the children and keep them from her own people. Her eyes filled with tears, and she struggled to keep calm. She heard the noise again... There really was something there. She wasn't just hearing things. There really was someone or thing there making noise. As to who or what she didn't know, and her mind was already filled with thoughts of the Ruins which prepared her to go on the attack. … No, she needed to stay here, in the present. She doesn't need to dust a monster to protect a human. That isn't the way things are anymore. Not here on the surface. She padded her way to the front door, listening quietly. She then knew what she was hearing. Something was messing with her doorknob. Angry, she got ready to round the corner, open the door, and attack whomever it was. They had no right to break into her house, and she will not stand for it. But as she came around the corner she saw a red light in the dark. The monster in question was already in the house, and it was her skeleton friend. He turned his animalistic head towards her and she could see the panic in his eye lights. Between each joint of his bones, she could see a red light slowly pulsing with growing energy like a soul beat. She had never seen him shift when he lacked control of it before, only the end results of different forms and his testimonial of what it was like. While he has never mentioned the glow before, if she had to hazard a guess, that was what was happening. Her poor friend started to shake fearfully as he again fought to grip the doorknob. It was then she saw the problem. While she has paws, her paws were hand-like, with thumbs and fingers made for gripping. His boney paws no longer had a useable thumb and were covered in sweat, making what weak grasp slippery. To add to it, his panicked mind hadn't noticed the door was still locked. "Hold on, dear," She said as she walked over and unlocked the door. He finally got it open and hurried out, but he came to a stop and hugged himself before looking back at her. "You don't need to run, It's okay, let us walk to my backyard and you can change there, unseen." "y-you s-sure... i d-don't... i might- i will t-tear up your y-yard." He sounded so scared it hurt her soul to hear. Closing the door behind herself, she held her paw out to him. He looked at it for a moment, then up at her as if considering his options. Then he slowly reached out and took her offered paw.

They barely made it to her backyard before his condition worsened. She could tell, while holding his paw, that he was struggling to hold back the magic that was building up within him, but he did. She saw the red light between his joints growing brighter and as they reached the backyard small sparks emitted from him. He was shaking like a leaf, bones rattling as panic again set into him. She wanted to comfort him and reached forward to hug him, but he recoiled back. To her surprise, he actually growled at her. There was nothing really aggressive about it though. She had heard the dogs of Snowdin make a growl like that before, a warning to stay back. She soon saw why. The energy around him went from small sparks to far larger movements of magic between his joints like small bolts of lightly crawling over him. Sans whimpered and moved further away from her, and Toriel respected him. Even at her distance, she could feel the energy and it made her fur stand on end. It was strong, feral, and he couldn't restrain it any longer. His body shifted and grew, popping and cracking while the energy continued to dance around him like a miniature, red, lightning storm. He grew, far larger than she had ever remembered him growing before. His skull grew more horns and his body grew additional spikes that she was not used to seeing. His clothes seemed to tear as they were absorbed into him by his magic. By the time the change was over, he was a boned beast curled up before her, nearly the same size, if not larger, than her house. While he was huge, she couldn’t help but suspect he could grow even larger. Toriel looked at him and he stared back at her with small, red pinpricks for eye lights. She took a few steps closer to him, reaching a paw out carefully to touch him. She saw him look from her paw to back to her before shutting his sockets closed tight. Was he scared of her? Why? Oh, this poor skeleton. He always found things to be nervous about without reason. But, perhaps that is how he survived so long in the Underground with so little HP. Quietly, she began to hum a song she used to sing to her children as she knelt beside his skull. He opened his sockets again and looked at her as she softly ran a paw over his muzzle. She continued to hum, and she watched as he slowly relaxed his body, enjoying the soft petting and her voice. "There you go," she said before she looked him over, "I must say, this form of yours is rather impressive. And I can sense it is stronger. Though, I will thank you for making sure you were outside before taking it." In reply, he made a soft whine and she smiled at him. "You let your stress get the better of you, didn't you?" To her question, she saw him lift his skull enough to nod. "Well, why don't I help you relax, and we can see about getting you back to a more house friendly size."

She smiled a little then sighed as she shook her head. He needed to talk to her more about the things that stress him. Their time in the Underground had caused him to keep his emotions and fears to himself. Even though she had opened herself up to be a person to talk to, there had been too many reminders to him to keep anything that could be a weakness to himself. The best thing she could do for him was constantly remind him that she was here for him and hope he will believe her when she tells him that she would never cause him harm or take advantage of his weaknesses.

Or... well, not in a way he wouldn't find enjoyable, at least. Her paw continued to move over his muzzle and Sans sighed deeply, she could feel the tension he had held in left as he exhaled. "There you go, my dear friend," she said before she continued to hum. Toriel leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his skull, her unbroken horn made a soft tick as it touched bone. There was a sound of thumping as his tail started to wag in response to this contact. She smiled, enjoying that sound as it meant he was happy; it was such a beautiful sound. She remained, cuddled to his skull, offering sweet words and humming gentle tunes and as the saying goes, the music calms the beast. She could feel him tense his body again as she heard the popping and cracking of his bones. Once again his joints became alive with bright red magic, but the light show was muted, compared to before, by tiredness. His magic was too worn to make the change back as dramatic as it had been. It was sad to see him so tired during a time like this, but she understood and just tried to keep him calm with slow and gentle pets over his muzzle and talking softly.

The entire process was slower, most likely spurred on by his exhaustion and overall discomfort. While she has seen him change before in the past with little or no issues, this was a change he didn't mean to have occurred, it was more or less against his will and uncomfortable. So, she did what she could to ease the process. Once his skull was small enough, she lifted it and placed it on her lap, making far longer, gentle and slow sweeps of her paw from his snout to the end of the tallest horn on the back of his skull. He looked up at her with dim, red rings in his sockets, and she could see something in them, a soft look that warmed her soul and made her feel loved. That look, she had seen it before, but at the moment, it encouraged her to lean forward and place a kiss right over his left socket. He gave a soft whine as if to show displeasure at the act she did, but his tail showed otherwise as it began to wag showing he enjoyed her expression of love. Her dear friend continued to shrink, eventually becoming the same small size he was when he showed up at her house this evening and once again dressed in the clothes she provided him. Scooping him up, she pulled him onto her lap and he made the most adorable sound of a squeak in the process. But, even with that noise, he began to cling to her, his claws lightly pressing against her skin. "It is alright, dear. Let us go inside and see how much further you change back." "ok," Sans replied and she gently moved her paw under one of his sockets, wiping away a tear that had formed from the pain he was feeling. With his simple approval, Toriel stood and carried her small friend back into the house.

Toriel took Sans over to her couch and she held him again as he clung to her. She felt Sans nuzzle against her neck, finding comfort there. She continued to rub his back in slow, calm circles and in reply he softly purred to her. It was such a pleasant sound to her, that she couldn't help but hold him closer. The faint vibration his body made as he purred could be felt through him and she gave into her own instinct to purr in response. She could feel him flinch, startled by her making such a noise. If she were being honest, she had surprised herself as she had not purred in a very long time. Making such a sound just felt like the right thing to do at the moment, and the proper sound to make to him. So, they both cuddled together, purring to each other as Sans continued to slowly shrink.

Soon, his face was looking more like that of his usual skeleton self as the horns on the back of the skull continued to disappear. She could also feel the spinal processes on his backbone were no longer as pronounced as they had been when she first started rubbing his back. His tail was shrinking down to a far more manageable size and the claws no longer lightly dug into her as he held on. Still, she took the moment the lightly rub his cheekbone and pet over his skull as if admiring the difference.

"tori...," Sans started, but he lost his nerve and looked away. Toriel looked at him, seeing the monster who saved her from her boredom and loneliness that was caused by her isolation within the Ruins. The monster who brought her so much joy talking to, even though, at first, she was harsh and rude. She didn't know who he was or why he chose to keep her company, even though she invited him to. As she got to know him, this skeleton now in her arms, she had started to understand he was as lonely as she was. Not only that, but he had also been scared. His fear was made painfully clear when he backed away from her as she opened the Ruin doors to share a pie with him the first time. The pure look of terror in his eye lights would have amused her had she not grown to care about him. He was just so weak and small, even the pathetic monsters of the Ruin could easily dust him. The door between them gave him the opportunity to make a friend without the monster on the other side seeing how weak he was and choosing to be cruel.

They talked, laughed, joked, and share what they could. Toriel made sure to let him know she would protect him from threats. He had found a place to feel safe from others. And she learned to love again...

As much as she loved him, she never expected it back, but the way he looked at her challenged that. The way his eye lights still showed such care, compassion, and love for her, they made her think that maybe, just maybe, he did think about her that way. That maybe, just maybe, he loved her the way she loved him. And as his features finally returned to their usual skeleton self, a hand reached up and his phalanges slipped into her fur. Toriel purred again, feeling his fingers move and ruffle her fur in such an enjoyable way. For a moment, her eyes closed as she soaked in this feeling. His fingers slowly traced over her scar with such tender care, it was as if he were examining a fresh wound. She could feel his sympathy and concern radiating off his soul.

"tori...," Sans repeated and she looked at him again as she softly ran her paw over his skull. He closed his sockets and hummed contently as if he meant to purr. He seemed intent on saying something, though, as he opened his sockets and looked up at her a focus to get his words out. "tori, i...," he said, getting further this time but still falling short of getting his words out. From his soul, she could feel his fear and she wondered about why he was so afraid. It caused her to worry if perhaps she had done something wrong.

"It is alright, my dear... if you... if you need to say something, feel free to. You have no reason to fear me," she said, hoping that would give him the confidence to finally get his words out. Tori looked down at the skeleton in her arms, his cheekbones had a light dusting of red for a blush. It was amusing to see, but still, she couldn't help but shake her worry or fear that she was being too forward with him.

Her words did seem to have the needed effect as he took a deep breath and started again to try to talk. "tori, i lo... i love you." In response to those simple words, her eyes open wide with shock. She felt her face warm, knowing that with how hot her face felt, there would be a hint of blush through her fur on her nose and cheeks.

Did he really love her? This skeleton she adored loved her? He didn't just like her or think she was a good friend, but he actually loved her? The notion that this could be true was shocking to her and she couldn't help but stare down at him without a word. This was what she wanted, was it not? Was she not just considering this thought? So why was she so startled? She just wasn't expecting it, that's why. She also saw no reason for him to love her. All of the opinions Toriel had of herself were negative. She was stubborn and, according to many, selfish. Toriel was not a leader, a horrible mother, and could not be trusted as a wife, let alone a lover. The guilt she lived with for abandoning her ex-husband in the manner she did ate at her all these years. The two had nearly torn into each other during their argument over his policy. And yet, Toriel, a monster least deserving of love had somehow earned it from the skeleton friend she loved so dearly.

After thinking it over for a moment, Toriel held him close and nuzzled him on the skull. Again, Sans made the soft, nervous, squeak of a sound; which, as cute as it is, she hoped he will stop making as he got used to this. If Sans truly loved her as he said he did, then she was going to fill his life this sort of affection. In her mind, he deserved it for all that he had done for her. The skeleton will deny it, she knew he would, but she will not let that deter her from doting on him. She eased her grip on Sans only slightly so she could look at him better. His red eye lights were staring up at her, nervous but still ever so full of love.

"My dear, I love you as well. I have loved you for a long time now, but I have feared that you would never feel the same for an old woman like myself," Toriel's voice was jaded as she spoke those words. The weight of the world and all the reasons why this relationship had been avoided came to mind.

"you're not old, you're magic keeps you young," Sans corrected and then he snuggled closer to her. That act warmed her soul as it showed he was starting to get comfortable with this type of behavior. For the longest time, he would shy away from the slightest touch. Eventually, he allowed her to touch him, though he would sometimes flinch. She had always taken the initiative, but she never minded. So, for him to choose to cuddle closer without her encouraging him to was a big step.

"I suppose I am younger than I give myself credit for. Still, there is much here for one to dislike," Toriel said as she again gave him reason to take back his earlier statement of love.

Her protest was met with a stare as he again looked up at her, clearly unsure of what to make of her comment. Sans then shifted on her lap to look at her in a more serious way. For a moment, he just stared into her eyes as if searching for something before he finally sighed. "tori, no one's perfect. heh, i'm far from it. so ya did somethings some other folks say ya shouldn't have. i don't care. never did. all i see when i look at you is someone i love... my best friend and maybe more?"

Toriel felt tears fill her eyes at his words and she again held him close. “Yes,” Toriel replied before she continued, “you are my best friend as well, and so much more.” His arms then went around her as she continued to cuddle him. She still didn’t know what brought him here this evening, or the stresses that had caused him to change as he did. But, it was good to know that she could help him relax enough to change back. Though the best thing she learned was that he loved her the way she loved him.

[detroitbecomehummus]

Got No Choice -pt2 || RK900

RK900 x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Uhhhhh, here’s part 2.

Pt1

Tags:-  @liveloveandbekind  @fandoms4everyone @sherlockspie @riridmanngrl @cool-haleychapman @ashleygingerale @sylvestercunt @yeah---nah @sharkface-ooh-ha-ha @iwilldefendtonyatallcosts @heartfungers @loosingmymindtothewalrus @tokagestudyblr 

You scanned your card on the keypad and the door unlocked with a hiss like a vault with built up pressure. You took a deep breath in and strode to the table and input your password. The large board of evidence always disheartened you. Conner walked up to the board noticing how you’ve ordered the evidence in a timeline. He read and observed every bit.

“We have some new CCTV footage, it’s nothing much. But it is something.” Conner had noticed the sad tone in your voice but took the tablet off your hands and watched the clip. “It was an anonymous tip but we were given an address.” He watched as the child walked pass the camera with their school bag then a few minutes later the child walked back in different clothes with a plate of food. The child looked about 10 at the youngest. “Who are your suspects?” Conner looked up at the board and placed the tablet in the chronological spot it belonged. “The mother’s friend.” Conner looked at you in the corner of his eye. Your eyes were glazed, you were emotionally attached to this case. “At first we thought the mother’s ex-husband, but he checked out fine. When I... when I told him, he broke down in front of me. I keep him updated as per requested.” “Have you requested phone call records and additional CCTV camera footage?” If you had phone call records you would be able to pin point locations and connections and the extra CCTV to support that. “I’m still waiting for them. It’s been weeks.” You looked up at Conner who’s eyes were twitching and blinking as his LED blinked yellow. “I’ve got them.” You huffed annoyed. 

You both looked over your notes, phone records and locations. Everything lined up perfectly. You had your criminal, you had proof. Tears fell. After months of non-stop working, stressing, passing out in the office. You were able to rest, and so can the child and her family. “Are you alright (Y/N)? You’re crying.” You sniffled and use your sleeve to wipe your snot and tears away. “I’m happy.” Conner stood beside you. He felt... uncomfortable. He hesitantly lifted his arm from behind his back and put it on your shoulder. “They thought there was no hope so, I was given the case. I started to believe that there was no hope as well.” You smiled up at him and upon instinct hugged him. “You’re ruining my clothes.” You parted and wiped away the snot. “Sorry...” You mumbled embarrassed.

Connor turned away starting to walk away, he opened the door and stopped turning his head to the side.  “I will notify Fowler of our work. You should... fix your appearance detective. You look like a mess.” With that he left you alone in the room. You stared at the icy wake he left and sniffled. You need to find a way to thank him but first you needed to get to the bathroom to clean your face.

(Y/N) ^ Friend

The cold water on your face calmed you down from the rush of emotions. You leaned over the sink and sighed. Looking back up in the mirror you noticed how puffy your eyes were, you splashed more water on your face. Looking back up at yourself you timed your breathing. “Detective we have a homicide to attend to.” Conner opened the door, scaring you. “Thank you for the heart attack. I’ll be out in a minute.” Conner walked in turned off the tap and dragged you out by your arm. “We need to go now.” He didn’t let you go until you got in a car and he drove you. “I can drive you know.” You grumbled plugging in your seat-belt. “I know. The lactose is still taking affect on you.” You went to turn on the radio to avoid the silence but Conner slapped your hand away. “There is one victim and two witnesses waiting for us at the scene. You will need to talk to them while I investigate. Acclaimed robbery gone wrong.” You crossed your arms and looked out of the window. Of course you had to talk to the people. That meant you don’t get a chance to even look at the scene until it reaches the evidence room. 

A word could barely escaped either witness as you tried your best to comfort them. They were in hysterics. You stood from the table and took the bag of tissues out to the bin. You asked an office to take them to the station for further questioning later in the afternoon. Conner came outside a few minutes later hands behind his back. “I have fully analyzed the scene. The suspect had panicked finding there was someone in the house and hit them with a candle stick.” “Was it a Professor Plum, Colonel Mustard, Reverend Green or Miss Scarlet?” Conner tilted his head. “No, it was a 34-year-old woman.” Stated confused by your question. An officer waiting outside gave you a pitied smile, at least he understood your joke. “Cluedo?” You waited a few moments and sighed with annoyance. “Forget it.”

Just as Conner was about to enter the car he took notice of your rather... depressed state. You were happy earlier, serotonin levels rose dramatically but now they've dramatically dropped. “I think I would like to have another look at the scene. I believe I might’ve missed something. Can you help me?” Your eyes widened and your body sat up straight. “Are you sure?” “It wouldn’t hurt to check.” You almost ripped the seat belt out of the lock and jumped out of the car running into the house.

“The victim has been dead for two hours. Reported dead an hour ago.” Conner was two steps behind you as your rushed into the living room. It was a mess. “There was a fight. As I stated earlier the suspect was surprised and attacked the victim. The candle stick has been placed in an evidence bag and taken to the forensics lab.” You looked around the room, it was a mess. Yes the fight was evident. “Were there signs of forced entry?”  “There wasn’t. The victim knew the suspect.” Conner watched as you crouched next to the head of the victim and studied their face. He watched as your eyebrows knitted together in thought. “They were robbed earlier in the week.” You mumbled, you looked away recollecting the conversation you had with them the few days prior. “She claimed that certain personal items were taken. Expensive items as well.” You looked at her attire, she was wearing an extravagant, red dress. She going out to afternoon tea. It was a date. You tried your best to recall the conversation on that day. “An ex-boyfriend.” An ex? You ran to a bookshelf and looked at the varied photo frames. Only one was face down. You lifted it up to show a photo of the victim kissing the cheek of another woman. “Ex-girlfriend... this photo looks only a few months old... she’s the same woman I talked to earLIER- THE LADY IS ON THE WAY TO THE STATION. SHE KILLED MISS SCARLET WITH THE CANDLE STICK!” You shoved Conner out of the way and ran as fast as you could almost tripping over.

Conner ran after you after spending a second comprehending what you had just said. You got in the driver’s seat, Conner jumped in the passengers seat and clenched onto the seat as you put the pedal to the metal.

“Wooooo!~” You flopped into your chair after the adrenaline rush left you. You were able to catch and arrest the lady and her sidekick before they got to the station. What a day, two cases in one day. It’s 10pm, you should’ve left five hours agp “Detective.” You lifted your head and rested your chin on your arm. “I just want to say-” The android stopped himself and performed a quick scan on you. “You need to go home. You have not eaten since your arrival this morning. If you stay here any longer you will cause problems tomorrow due to poor health.” You grumbled a response and let your head roll to the side and let your eyes fall. “Would you like me to call you a cab?” “That would be great, partner...” Your breathing and heart rate had slowed down. You had fallen asleep. Conner tilted his head as he studied your restful features.

Software Instability ^^

He had seen a range of emotions from you today. You had solved a homicide in little time you were there. You were clever yet barely given a chance. Future cases with you would be interesting.

[thetigarchives]

THE TIG ARCHIVES│BEAUTY│MORE THAN AN ‘OTHER’

“What are you?’ A question I get asked every week of my life, often every day. ‘Well,’ I say, as I begin the verbal dance I know all too well. ‘I’m an actress, a writer, the Editor-in-Chief of my lifestyle brand The Tig, a pretty good cook and a firm believer in handwritten notes.’ A mouthful, yes, but one that paints a pretty solid picture of who I am. But here’s what happens: they smile and nod politely, maybe even chuckle, before getting to their point, ‘Right, but what are you? Where are your parents from?’ I knew it was coming, I always do. While I could say Pennsylvania and Ohio, and continue this proverbial two-step, I instead give them what they’re after: ‘My dad is Caucasian and my mom is African American. I’m half black and half white.’

To describe something as being black and white means it is clearly defined. Yet when your ethnicity is black and white, the dichotomy is not that clear. In fact, it creates a grey area. Being biracial paints a blurred line that is equal parts staggering and illuminating. When I was asked by ELLE to share my story, I’ll be honest, I was scared. It’s easy to talk about which make-up I prefer, my favourite scene I’ve filmed, the rigmarole of ‘a day in the life’ and how much green juice I consume before a requisite Pilates class. And while I have dipped my toes into this on thetig.com, sharing small vignettes of my experiences as a biracial woman, today I am choosing to be braver, to go a bit deeper, and to share a much larger picture of that with you.

It was the late Seventies when my parents met; my dad was a lighting director for a soap opera and my mom was a temp at the studio. I like to think he was drawn to her sweet eyes and her Afro, plus their shared love of antiques. Whatever it was, they married and had me. They moved into a house in The Valley in LA, to a neighbourhood that was leafy and affordable. What it was not, however, was diverse. And there was my mom, caramel in complexion with her light-skinned baby in tow, being asked where my mother was since they assumed she was the nanny.

I was too young at the time to know what it was like for my parents, but I can tell you what it was like for me – how they crafted the world around me to make me feel like I wasn’t different, but special. When I was about seven, I had been fawning over a boxed set of Barbie dolls. It was called The Heart Family and included a mom doll, a dad doll, and two children. This perfect nuclear family was only sold in sets of white dolls or black dolls. I don’t remember coveting one over the other, I just wanted one. On Christmas morning, swathed in glitter-flecked wrapping paper, there I found my Heart Family: a black mom doll, a white dad doll, and a child in each color. My dad had taken the sets apart and customized my family.

Fast-forward to the seventh grade and my parents couldn’t protect me as much as they could when I was younger. There was a mandatory census I had to complete in my English class – you had to check one of the boxes to indicate your ethnicity: white, black, Hispanic or Asian. There I was (my curly hair, my freckled face, my pale skin, my mixed race) looking down at these boxes, not wanting to mess up, but not knowing what to do. You could only choose one, but that would be to choose one parent over the other – and one half of myself over the other. My teacher told me to check the box for Caucasian. ‘Because that’s how you look, Meghan,’ she said. I put down my pen. Not as an act of defiance, but rather a symptom of my confusion. I couldn’t bring myself to do that, to picture the pit-in-her-belly sadness my mother would feel if she were to find out. So, I didn’t tick a box. I left my identity blank – a question mark, an absolute incomplete – much like how I felt.

When I went home that night, I told my dad what had happened. He said the words that have always stayed with me: ‘If that happens again, you draw your own box.’

I never saw my father angry, but in that moment I could see the blotchiness of his skin crawling from pink to red. It made the green of his eyes pop and his brow was weighted at the thought of his daughter being prey to ignorance. Growing up in a homogeneous community in Pennsylvania, the concept of marrying an African-American woman was not on the cards for my dad. But he saw beyond what was put in front of him in that small-sized (and, perhaps, small-minded) town, and he wanted me to see beyond that census placed in front of me. He wanted me to find my own truth.

And I tried. Navigating closed-mindedness to the tune of a dorm mate I met my first week at university who asked if my parents were still together. ‘You said your mom is black and your dad is white, right?’ she said. I smiled meekly, waiting for what could possibly come out of her pursed lips next. ‘And they’re divorced?’ I nodded. ‘Oh, well that makes sense.’ To this day, I still don’t fully understand what she meant by that, but I understood the implication. And I drew back: I was scared to open this Pandora’s box of discrimination, so I sat stifled, swallowing my voice.

I was home in LA on a college break when my mom was called the ‘N’ word. We were leaving a concert and she wasn’t pulling out of a parking space quickly enough for another driver. My skin rushed with heat as I looked to my mom. Her eyes welling with hateful tears, I could only breathe out a whisper of words, so hushed they were barely audible: ‘It’s OK, Mommy.’ I was trying to temper the rage-filled air permeating our small silver Volvo. Los Angeles had been plagued with the racially-charged Rodney King and Reginald Denny cases just years before, when riots had flooded our streets, filling the sky with ash that flaked down like apocalyptic snow; I shared my mom’s heartache, but I wanted us to be safe. We drove home in deafening silence, her chocolate knuckles pale from gripping the wheel so tightly.

It’s either ironic or apropos that in this world of not fitting in, and of harbouring my emotions so tightly under my ethnically nondescript (and not so thick) skin, that I would decide to become an actress. There couldn’t possibly be a more label-driven industry than acting, seeing as every audition comes with a character breakdown: ‘Beautiful, sassy, Latina, 20s’; ‘African American, urban, pretty, early 30s’; ‘Caucasian, blonde, modern girl next door’. Every role has a label; every casting is for something specific. But perhaps it is through this craft that I found my voice.

Being ‘ethnically ambiguous’, as I was pegged in the industry, meant I could audition for virtually any role. Morphing from Latina when I was dressed in red, to African American when in mustard yellow; my closet filled with fashionable frocks to make me look as racially varied as an Eighties Benetton poster. Sadly, it didn’t matter: I wasn’t black enough for the black roles and I wasn’t white enough for the white ones, leaving me somewhere in the middle as the ethnic chameleon who couldn’t book a job.

This is precisely why Suits stole my heart. It’s the Goldilocks of my acting career – where finally I was just right. The series was initially conceived as a dramedy about a NY law firm flanked by two partners, one of whom navigates this glitzy world with his fraudulent degree. Enter Rachel Zane, one of the female leads and the dream girl – beautiful and confident with an encyclopedic knowledge of the law. ‘Dream girl’ in Hollywood terms had always been that quintessential blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty – that was the face that launched a thousand ships, not the mixed one. But the show’s producers weren’t looking for someone mixed, nor someone white or black for that matter. They were simply looking for Rachel. In making a choice like that, the Suits producers helped shift the way pop culture defines beauty. The choices made in these rooms trickle into how viewers see the world, whether they’re aware of it or not. Some households may never have had a black person in their house as a guest, or someone biracial. Well, now there are a lot of us on your TV and in your home with you. And with Suits, specifically, you have Rachel Zane. I couldn’t be prouder of that.

At the end of season two, the producers went a step further and cast the role of Rachel’s father as a dark-skinned African American man, played by the brilliant Wendell Pierce. I remember the tweets when that first episode of the Zane family aired, they ran the gamut from: ‘Why would they make her dad black? She’s not black’ to ‘Ew, she’s black? I used to think she was hot.’ The latter was blocked and reported. The reaction was unexpected, but speaks of the undercurrent of racism that is so prevalent, especially within America. On the heels of the racial unrest in Ferguson and Baltimore, the tensions that have long been percolating under the surface in the US have boiled over in the most deeply saddening way. And as a biracial woman, I watch in horror as both sides of a culture I define as my own become victims of spin in the media, perpetuating stereotypes and reminding us that the States has perhaps only placed bandages over the problems that have never healed at the root.

I, on the other hand, have healed from the base. While my mixed heritage may have created a grey area surrounding my self-identification, keeping me with a foot on both sides of the fence, I have come to embrace that. To say who I am, to share where I’m from, to voice my pride in being a strong, confident mixed-race woman. That when asked to choose my ethnicity in a questionnaire as in my seventh grade class, or these days to check ‘Other’, I simply say: ‘Sorry, world, this is not Lost and I am not one of The Others. I am enough exactly as I am.’

Just as black and white, when mixed, make grey, in many ways that’s what it did to my self-identity: it created a murky area of who I was, a haze around how people connected with me. I was grey. And who wants to be this indifferent color, devoid of depth and stuck in the middle? I certainly didn’t. So you make a choice: continue living your life feeling muddled in this abyss of self-misunderstanding, or you find your identity independent of it. You push for color-blind casting, you draw your own box. You introduce yourself as who you are, not what color your parents happen to be. You cultivate your life with people who don’t lead with ethnic descriptions such as, ‘that black guy Tom’, but rather friends who say: ‘You know? Tom, who works at [blah blah] and dates [fill in the blank] girl.’ You create the identity you want for yourself, just as my ancestors did when they were given their freedom. Because in 1865 (which is so shatteringly recent), when slavery was abolished in the United States, former slaves had to choose a name. A surname, to be exact.

Perhaps the closest thing to connecting me to my ever-complex family tree, my longing to know where I come from, and the commonality that links me to my bloodline, is the choice that my great-great-great grandfather made to start anew. He chose the last name Wisdom. He drew his own box.”

- Written by Meghan Markle for the July 2015 issue of Elle UK

[theolivechickken]

Come to Salzburg they said. It will be easy they said.

Brace yourself: here’s week 1.

Jan 15

Scarfed down an egg, cheese, and spinach cake-looking omlette before running upstairs for German. Katharina printed out little character cards and we had to translate them out loud to each other.

Hallo, mein name ist Brigitte (also had to spell my name out in German). Ich bin dreiundsiebzig Jahre alt. Ich komme aus Klagenfurt, Kärnten.

Oof why are numbers so difficult? Hopefully I’ll get the hang of it. It’s pretty easy if you know 1-10 but you have to know 1-10 and I don’t yet.

I like our Austria in Europe class. Normally, I think history is boring and it’s hard for me to stay engaged, but I thought it was really interesting how we opened the class. Wolfgang asked us, “What does history mean to you?” For me it’s a recollection of individual stories and how they play into the greater picture/shape society, as well as how society shapes individual’s stories. We also had a debate and discussion on how is identity formed. I’m glad we’re in a small lecture class. I almost never speak aloud in discussions/class, but I feel pretty comfortable speaking up in our group.

Remind me not to drink 2+ cups of black tea in one sitting. I was wayyyy to hyped on caffeine. Kinda felt like I shaking like that squirrel from Over the Hedge.

Oh my, our Sights and Sounds of Salzburg class was a looooooong one. Our professor has a thick accent so it’s hard to keep up and understand what she’s talking about. Sometimes she would ask a question and we wouldn’t know that she did until she just kept staring at us. We flipped through a thousand slides of historical art pieces.

Since we ended class at 15:30, there wasn’t much time to go out into the city before dinner. We ended up hanging out in the house to do homework or take a break before going out to Paul Stub’n. I had chicken, a baked potato, and a light salad.

Let me start by saying I have never seen any full length mirrors since we arrived here. So in the bathroom, you can understand that I was confused by the mirror and thought it was a weird hallway to another part of the bathroom. Only till I actually walked up to it and TOUCHED IT did I see my reflection and realized OH it’s a mirror and I’m dumb. Glad Aubree was there to witness it. We were dyiiing.

After dinner, we navigated through the city and found the lift on the other side of the mountain. We rode the elevator up since Aubree’s knee hasn’t been the happiest lately. Up on the Mönchsberg, we walked the scenic backway and found a museum as well as a stunning view of the city at night (photos will never do this place justice).

Jan 16

Had another egg, cheese, potato cake-looking omelette for breakfast and hiked up the stairs to German. For our Austria in Europe class this morning, we took a walk on the Mönchsberg and stopped at sites that had historical backgrounds and were essential to Austria/Salzburg’s development. He also pointed out the Eagle’s Nest and the church that was used in the Sound of Music (but the inside of a different church was used for interior scenes).

We trekked back to our building and had a potatoey crispy mac and cheese-esque dumpling casserole thing for lunch. I wished I knew the names of the foods Marcus cooked for us.

After this lunch break, we continued our Austria in Europe class and had a history lesson on the Habsburg family. My background on European history is rough/ basically non-existent since the last time I studied it was early-on in high school and I never retained any information because it was a butt-load of history to remember. So I’m happy to be getting another crash course. Turns out the Hapsburgs were a family who happened to be at the right place at the right time They managed to come into power and dominate the Holy Roman Empire for 600 years.

Nadia, Raine, Aubree, Patrick, and I went out to hang and do homework at a coffee house but ended up walking around town and stopping at Spar to buy chips and snacks. I need to learn how to ask, “Can I pet your dog?” in German. I keep seeing too many good bois, big woofers, and smol puppers that are all SO well trained and absolutely adorable. When we walked out of the grocery store, we found a little long-haired dog tied to a bench. Patrick went up to pet it while the rest of us stared and admired from a distance. We walked through the Hospital parking lot (and realized just how small this town is and how all these separate pieces of the city are finally connecting to a solid map) and then hung out at a little pastry shop before crossing the street to meet the rest of the group at the Aug (Augustiner braü).

Inside, there was a whole wall lined with small and large ceramic beer mugs (Steins?). You picked up a mug, washed it out in this grand sink station, paid 3-5 euros at the stand, and then walked over to the bar where the guy would fill your glass up from the tap. Honestly it was pretty good. 10/10 recommend and would come back- and the food wasn’t too bad either. I got a Riesen Käsekrainer mit senf (basically a giant sausage with cheese and mustard). Patrick and I also went to a stand to get some fries. I was confident in my German and ready to order and then I panicked mid-sentence but the lady still understood what I meant.

Jan 17

COME TO SALZBURG THEY SAID. IT WILL BE EASY THEY SAID. Our sounds of Austria professor just dropped a homework bomb on us. And the binders she passed out for our class are so unorganized (my OCD is killing meeeee). Why am I already overwhelmed with classes? I’m hoping this week is just chaotic from trying to adjust and process everything as well as from trying to establish somewhat of a routine. On the bright side, we had more comfort carbs for lunch (pasta with red sauce, bacon bits, and broccoli).

We ~finally~ ventured out to get our sim cards. Managed to buy a ticket and hop onto the bus (but am I supposed to scan my ticket or something?). Wasn’t sure what our stop was for the train station, but I was happily along for the ride (no need to stress yet folks). Salzburg is an interesting city. It’s always suuuuper quiet. People walking around town are silent. Individuals and families sitting on busses don’t talk. In restaurants, volume is kept to a minimum. I’m sure we all look crazy just existing out in the streets as Americans especially since we like to talk and travel in groups. It was quiet on the bus, but the ride was calming and it was nice to see parts of the city that we hadn’t seen before. Also, we saw some cute babies all bundled up and smiley. They look like miniature Michelin Tyre men.

We missed our stop for the train station?? So we just got off at the last stop which was the Europark (the large indoor mall). We stopped at the A1 store to get sim cards, but it was a hassle with such a large group and so many of us not really knowing what we need or what we’re getting. It sounds like we were trying to get one plan but ended up with a different one since the guy misinterpreted us? I’m still confused, and I feel like I spent a lot of Euros, but my phone works abroad now and it’s only a month plan so if it doesn’t work out or I don’t use/need all it’s perks I can just change it when the plan is up.

The mood drastically changed from when we went in, to when we came out. A lot of stress for both us, and the poor two workers who were trying their best to help us out. We hopped on a bus to head back to Old Town. Got off and scrambled to find a quick restaurant to eat at before attending a concert. Some split off to McDonalds, and some of us went to a fish food store. I ended up getting a fried fish sandwich thing, but it was either served cold, or cold from sitting too long. It was aight and definitely cheap. I’ve been missing fruit and veggies in my diet. I think Marcus does his best to include them in our meals, but I could really go for a smoothie.

How to save money by going out :)

don’t go out

get kids meals

fast food

street food

Also, here’s the rundown on the types of places to eat:

super fancy restaurants

sit down restaurants

sit down coffee houses

take out coffee houses

fast food

street food

We met up with the rest of the group in front of Haus für Mozart (Kleines Festspielhaus) for the concert: Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra. It’s quite an experience sitting at a concert. I think so many of us are used to having a lot of visual stimulation, but this was mainly a listening experience. Of course, you can watch the musicians playing their instruments or the conductor throwing his body into the music, but it’s a different kind of visual that we are not used to. The music was lovely, but it was also long. We were supposed to take notes throughout the concert, but I kept getting lost in thought or lost in the story of the music. Or maybe just lost. At some points it really was just music and I didn’t really know how it made me feel or think.

[laur-rants]

Fic Update - Wolfbann

Chapter 10 - With a Second Chance

Fandom: Dishonored Ship: Corvo/Daud, Past Jessamine/Corvo Rated: Mature Chapter Synopsis: Headaches are a bitch and a half.

AO3 Link

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Once the deluge started, it didn't stop.

Whispers followed Corvo back to the boat, his head throbbing -- pelted with rain and filled with unwanted thoughts from the city below. It was a constant barrage, one that threatened to drown his own thoughts, pulling him under, carrying him downstream. It made his legs shake and his stomach turn. He couldn't even face Samuel for the whole ride, preferring to keep his fractured emotions hidden, preferring to let the laughing mask do the talking from under their shared umbrella instead.

Sam didn't ask. He didn't need to. Corvo knew, with every ragged breath and jerked motion, that no words were needed to convey that the mission had been an absolute failure.

Failure.

Failure failurefailurefailureluredthelure was cast and I wonder if I should check it once we get back. The anchor needs pulled in too before it floods at the Pub and -

Corvo shuddered and reeled his mind in again, his vision blurring from nausea and the realization that those soft thoughts were Sam's. Corvo swallowed hard and eyed Samuel carefully, but the boatman didn't seem to even realize the intrusion had occurred, wasn't even aware of the turbulent mind somehow brushing across his.

Others floated in and out as they passed houses and boats -- flashes of annoyance at the weather, fear for family or children, the smug passing of coin, the hot anger of a man towards his dog--

Corvo turtled his mind as best he could. He didn't know how to stop the torrential downpour. He wasn’t even sure that he could.

And the rain splattered and fell, again and again and again.

------

“Has he come down yet?”

Apprehension. Solidarity. Bergamot. Geoff.

“Not yet, but then again, he had a rough night. Has he even said anything since you got back?”

Passionate. Intuitive. Grease and lye. Callista.

“Give him time. He clearly hit a dead end, and not finding Emily can't have been easy on him.”

Gentle. Understanding. Seawater and wood polish. Samuel.

“Oh, he'll get over it. Or at least, he needs to, if he's ever going to get the Empress back.”

Smoke and mirrors. Too clean and proper. Oiled. Martin.

“Perhaps if you didn't give him terrible leads, he wouldn't be so defeated in the first place!”

“I merely nudged him in a direction and he did what he wanted to with that information. But if he wants to become an unpredictable wild cur I won't stop him, since he is certainly living up to the-”

The words downstairs were cut off by the clear sound of palm hitting cheek. Corvo jerked, the phantom pain of the blow blossoming on his face in the exact spot where Martin was just struck. The simultaneous surprise of the group mixed with his own, making his thoughts muddied and his senses overloaded momentarily. He sat up from his prone position on the floor and shook his head, massaging his face as the pain died away.

A sharp sense of self consciousness was the last emotion he caught before pulling away from the collective minds he was eavesdropping on. From below him he heard a door open and close; light feet quickly rushed up the stairs, accompanied by fast breathing and soft mutterings. Corvo turned his head from where he sat on the landing, eyeing Cecilia as she appeared from the stairwell. Her flushed face, already colored with anger, went a deeper shade of red as her gaze found Corvo on the floor. Her dusty scent bloomed with fear, but it subsided into a different emotion as she caught Corvo's eye, one hand massaging his jaw. She inhaled and looked away before mustering the courage to look back and nodding out a greeting. He nodded back, catching her before she disappeared completely into her room.

Downstairs, the talk erupted once again.

“What, none of you were going to stop her?”

“And why would I, Martin, when that was one of the most entertaining things I'll see all day?”

“You're all as bad as a pack of river krusts. As if I needed a reason for this persistent headache to worsen.”

“Oh? You have one too? Must be the weather. I always get heavy-headed when the pressure drops this time of year…”

Corvo gritted his teeth, a hand running over his mouth and scratching his stubble. His fingers tightened and he fought the urge to reach out with his mind again, to brush his emotions against theirs, to feel that sense of a connection--

He got up off the floor. He silently went upstairs. And he didn't dare tempt himself to try and go downstairs again.

------

Instinct.

The word was like a curse, something powerful that looked good on paper but never lived up to its intended promises. Corvo tried it on his tongue and it sounded nowhere close to a blessing.

Raindrops pounded out a rhythm against the window as his heart pounded its own song against his ears, the pressure only a mild irritation against the buzzing of his thoughts. He glared out at the rain, hands in pockets, searching the pub’s grounds for something invisible that his mind and body ached for.

If he was being honest, he should have seen something like this coming. Ever since escaping Coldridge -- and maybe even earlier still, back when he had first changed -- he’d experienced moments where he felt as if his thoughts and emotions weren't his own. He had merely waved it off as paranoia, not as another mind connecting with his own. But ever since his encounter with that masked assassin, Corvo decided he preferred paranoia over… whatever this was.

There was no denying it: he had lunged his mind at the assassin -- Whaler, he recalls Geoff calling them, those followers of Daud. It had been an instinctive assault, one fueled by rage and anger, not direction. So when his emotions were thrown forward like a weapon, he was stunned to silence when the mind behind that wall he was just as surprised as he was.

And the worst part was, once Corvo hit that confused wall, he had wanted nothing more than to find a way around it. He had been infuriated, confused, and lost, but most of all…

He wanted that connection. He needed it, he craved it. It was instinct, to seek out the song of someone else, to have it resonate with his own.

And Corvo Attano hated it.

For one, he was tired. He didn't sleep well. On top of being drenched and having few dry articles upon arriving at the Hound Pits, his mind was like a broken dam; the thoughts flowed out and poured in, mixing together in an all-too-loud cacophony. He's sure he caused at least one or two late night disturbances amongst the pub residents, all of whom shrugged if off as a bad dream before going back to sleep. As he gained finesse he learned he could quietly brush against a single mind or multiple, keeping his own thoughts blocked off. Unfortunately, he couldn't sustain the connection; like using his powers, forcing a mental bond drained him, especially if it was only one way.

But Corvo was learning. Slowly, he discovered that everyone had their own distinct mental colors and emotional flavors. From the cool lavenders of Sam to the mustard yellow of Martin and the greens and reds of Cecilia and Callista, he could simply pass by and know who's mind he was reaching out to. He tried not to intrude too much -- he didn't want to invade their privacy like that, not when they all gave him the space he requested -- but it was enough.

At least, that's what he told himself. As soon as he brushed by he pulled away, sequestered his thoughts, and tried to ignore the anxiety that fought to drown him when he wasn't actively reaching out for, for...

Something.

He sighed and paced the room. Evening was falling, and still he holed himself in the attic with no interest in interacting with the others. A few times Callista or Geoff had come up to knock; he hadn't answered, but the plates of cleared meals and dirty utensils meant their visits weren't entirely ignored. He just couldn't face them or their good intentions when he still felt all wrong -- now mentally, in addition to emotionally and physically.

He busied himself by checking his heavy, waterlogged coat. It had been hung up to dry as soon as he returned but after almost a day, the sleeves still felt damp at the edges. He shook it experimentally: droplets rained down, freed from the fabric. He sighed, wringing out a sleeve. At this rate, it was a matter of waiting for the weather to clear or for his jacket to dry. Corvo didn't want to wait, not when his senses pulled and his skin itched, but what other options did he have? His leads were all dead ends, he had no idea where Emily was, and-

“She hears the call, but does not know how to respond. ”

Corvo paused, mind grinding to a halt at the sound of those phantom words. As if in response, the heavy thump of the bloodless Heart pounded out, still housed deep in the coat’s chest pocket. He dropped the sleeve he had been working on and instead dove his hand into the coat, pulling out the surprisingly dry and eerily warm device. He sneered at it, the mere sight of it sparking annoyance.

“What do you want?”

The Heart was silent in his hand, just the phantom beat reverberating in his ears and off the walls. He sniffed loudly, grip tightening. As if on cue, the Heart spoke again.

“You are so confused and angry, not seeing the answers even when they are right in front of you.”

Corvo breathed, unsure of the solution to the puzzle the Heart was presenting him. He stared at the mechanical monstrosity; it gently -- playfully -- beat back in his hand.

“What use is a mind if it cannot be harnessed?”

Corvo clenched his jaw as hopeful trepidation filled him.

“What if I don't like what I find?” he asked it, voice breaking.

“She hears you call, but cannot respond.” the heart repeated, it's voice filled with a soft sadness. Corvo stared at it silently, weighing his options. Then he ground his teeth down, closed his eyes, and let his mind reach out.

The glow of the sun breaking over a bitter winter day. The gentle breeze of spring. A relieved smile after a long day. The sigh in his ears spoke volumes more than any lengthy reply.

“My dearest Corvo,” the Heart breathed to him, tugging at painful memories. “Your hands are still as warm as the Serkonan summer.”

His stomach turned in revulsion even as he drew the Heart closer, bringing it up to his face and pressing it close.

“Jessamine,” he cried, hating how his voice collapsed into a drawn, painful whine. “Empress, what have they done to you?”

“That isn't Jessamine,” a cold, clear voice told him. “At least, not as you knew her.”

Corvo snarled, tears blurring his vision as he threw a clawed hand out, but the Outsider was already gone, appearing to his left, a scowl on his face.

“Really, Corvo, when will you learn that doesn't work?”

“You,” Corvo growled out. Around him, his room warped into abyssal stone; the Outsider paced as the Void stretched out behind his inhuman form. Corvo's body burned in response to entering the Void, the magic of it all around him -- but he refused his desire to transform, keeping the Heart of Jessamine firmly in his grasp. The familiarity resting in his palm caused his stomach to sink as much as it made his chest feel light. His lip curled as he held the device out for the whale god see. “What kind of witchery trick is this?”

The Outsider blinked, looking owlishly between the Heart and Corvo’s feral face.

“You mean to tell me you don't appreciate your gift?”

“Gift? Who gifts a man with the heart of their dead lover? Do you find this funny? A joke?” The words tumbled furiously from his mouth as he fought to maintain control of his head, his emotions, his body -- everything.

“Yes, a gift.” The Outsider repeated, frowning. “It was your birthday, after all. A new year, a new body, a new start: a new you.” He motioned to the heart. “But I see you haven't even been using that device properly because you've yet to find your new home with it's help.”

“Screw that new home, screw your gifts, damn them to the Void and back,” Corvo snapped out, his anger getting the better of him. “And screw your fucking instincts, I'm tired of knowing--” he huffed, limbs shaking. “Knowing nothing. I'm no closer to finding Emily, and every day I think I have a grasp on something, it's twisted on its head!”

Corvo clenched and unclenched his fist, staring at it unhelpfully as magic smoked off, leaving smoldering black claws in its place. The Outsider watched at him silently, head tilted.

“Why are you even here,” Corvo asked, defeated. “It's not like you will help.”

“No,” the Outsider said plainly, “but that device is trying to help you. Since you're so thick, I have to intervene on its behalf.”

The Outsider held out a hand, beckoning for the Heart in Corvo's palm. Corvo eyed him carefully, unwilling to part with it now that he was fully aware of what the thing actually was. A gentle waft of reassurance crossed the connection between himself and the Heart; at the mental go-ahead he proffered the Heart of Jessamine Kaldwin for the whale god to take.

Cold hands curled easily around leather; the Outsider squeezed the Heart lightly, and after moment of stillness a small ghostly caricature of the late Empress wafted up from the device.

Empty eyes stared blankly. A pale face smiled.

And Corvo's sharp inhale sank deep into his chest like a dagger.

“No.”

No, this wasn't happening. No, this couldn't be what was actually going on. No, he did not want to relive this, not again…

“No, it's not the Empress,” the Outsider calmly explained. “Just a fragment of her soul, held within a cage. She is not alive, and not really dead. But she remembers you, and she knows Emily.”

The Leviathan's long, thin fingers let go of the Heart. It hung in the air, in limbo between Corvo's warmth and cold Eternity.

“Why don't you ask her where to go?”

“No.”

Corvo wanted to cry. He stared at the Heart -- at the ghost of the Heart, trapped in a shell and smiling at him -- and wanted to collapse. He wanted to run, to scream, to gnaw and bite his own arms off. His voice betrayed him.

He broke.

“No,” he choked. He turned. “No, I want to leave. I want off this ride. I can't… do whatever the fuck this is anymore.”

The Outsider frowned.

Corvo started walking.

And ended up in the shadow of the Leviathan itself.

The chill was suffocating; he gasped as it gripped his mind and body and held him in place. From the inky depths the boyish form of the Outsider materialized, his emotionless eyes judging Corvo's every move. The pressure weighed him down like the ocean itself; Corvo fought to keep form, to even stand on his own two feet.

“And where will you go, Corvo Attano?” The Outsider boomed into his ears, echoing in his skull. Every step, every innocent brush of his fingertips brought pounds upon pounds down onto Corvo's shoulders and he buckled under it. “What will you do? You will be gone, and I'll watch as your instincts eat your body, consume your mind. You will lose yourself. You already feel it, don't you? You can't keep going forward alone, Corvo. That end will only bring you madness.”

Corvo's teeth grew painfully even as he gnashed them together, grinding them down against the mounting suffocation. He whined, fighting the cry clawing its way out of his throat.

“You need help,” the Outsider drawled on. “I've given it to you; I can just as easily take it away, leaving you to a mad dog’s fate.”

He reached out, grabbing Corvo's clenched wrist. Corvo screamed, his left hand on fire as the Mark burned and fizzled away, turning to ash on the wind. He gaped at the Outsider. The god simply stared through him.

And then, all at once, it happened.

The transformation was violent, exploding from his skin in ribbons of flesh and fur and bone, his body lurching and rippling against his will. Corvo screeched, his voice dripping with Void song, warping the very reality around him.

And still the Outsider held on, watching, as cold as stone while he watched Corvo Attano fell apart.

“It's so disappointing,” he said casually, and Corvo's body jerked, ears twitching, the Outsider's voice the only thing cutting through the haze of his fevering mind. “But not unexpected. You were so stubborn and strong-willed, even before I marked you. It's why I marked you; I saw your potential to control this powerful magic given to you. And my, you've been so lovely to behold.”

The Outsider smiled. His grip twisted and Corvo yowled, his heavy form pitching forward.

When he landed on the abyssal stone, the wolf was knocked off of him and he coughed, choking and coiling under the pain.

“You have been given a taste of the fate I saved you from once,” the Outsider said, his smiling eyes venomous and clear and far from friendly. “And can save you from again. Now. Are you willing to try, a second time?”

Corvo breathed, his wrist still bent in the stinging grasp of the Outsider's unrelenting fingers. His blurred vision focused on the huge whale floating past, careening out its sad song. He shivered, coughed deep in his chest, and nodded.

The Outsider grinned.

“Excellent.”

Corvo's palm burned bright once more; the Mark reappeared, clear as day, as if it never left. Corvo eyed it uneasily, fingers flexing as the magic seeded itself into his hand in a sensation that was all too familiar. The Outsider grasped his hand and pulled him off the floor -- a surprisingly human move, but Corvo tried not to dwell on it as he stumbled onto his unsteady feet.

“I would have hated to see you devolve into a rabid beast,” the deity cheerfully continued, his earlier ominous performance seeping away. “I've seen it happen before; some wonderfully individualistic and morally grounded people who refused my help and sadly, passed away from various means hours later.”

Corvo stared at him. The Outsider smiled mischievously. The whale god then gestured with a twirl of his hand; Corvo followed the motion and saw the Heart hanging, still suspended.

Still waiting for him.

Corvo swallowed. He stepped forward and reached out with his thoughts.

“I'm sorry,” his emotions pleaded. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you.”

“The dead cannot forgive the living,” she told him solemnly.

“I never got to say goodbye,” he told her desperately as his hand curled around the warm, familiar leather. Only bittersweet affection beat back against his touch.

“A mind with no direction will only wander.”

“Tell me what I need to do,” he murmured down to her Heart, her love, in the palm of his hand.

“She hears your call, but she cannot find you. You are...too good at hiding.”

“Emily?” Corvo asked, and soft affirmation flowed across the bond his mind had created with the device. “But how do I call to her? How do I know where?”

“Focus, feel. You have already been searching. Your own heart will find the way home.”

Corvo breathed out, the Heart an encouraging presence in his palm. He closed his eyes. Across the Void, he let his mind spread out, following the direction given.

The sound of bells on a clear spring day. The smell of petrichor. Memories of lilies from the garden.

Emily.

When Corvo opened his eyes, there she was.

Except she wasn't there at all.

He was in the Void in the Hound Pits Pub; she was far away, facing someone else, her small body covered in a thick jacket, keeping in warmth and repelling the rain. He smelled thick grass and old wood and ancient trees. And something else, a tang that hung heavy like ozone and clung to everything like a shroud.

His neck bristled. There was an unknown magic here. One that was reaching out and wrapping hungry arms around--

“Emily.”

The girl's head turned to a woman's voice. Corvo could see the shine of her eye, the color on her cheeks despite the weather and he whined. “We're almost there. Are you ready?”

Emily bit at her lip. She nodded and held a hand out; a gloved hand slipped into hers, cold and wet with rain. Corvo's eyes narrowed and his mind searched for the owner of that hand.

Roses and thorns. The woman's head jerked; unlike Emily, she was fully aware of Corvo as soon as his mind brushed hers. He froze, caught in his intrusion as her eyes locked with his.

“What,” the woman gaped. A growl grew behind her words, the shadow readying to leap at him or flee from him. “But-- how did you--”

From somewhere else, another connection made itself known. Oddly familiar, it rushed in like the wind, blowing up from behind Corvo -- heavy, wild, powerful. The woman instinctively shrank away, her grip on Emily tightening as she made to sever the link with Corvo as quickly as she could.

And as she did, that exceptional force threatened to ground her.

“Billie,” the voice snarled out, and Corvo choked , pressed down and out of the way. The power of the voice was incredible, a massive thing undeterred by the strain of piggy-backing off of the weak connection Corvo had unknowingly created. “Billie, what do you think you're--”

But the woman panicked, immediately severing all connection with Corvo and this new individual. The blow-back left Corvo gasping, scrabbling to find himself as he realized that Emily was also gone, Emily, Void, where--

“Corvo.”

Suddenly the heavy weight of the new voice slammed into him, hitting his shoulder and coalescing into a rough grip. He blinked, momentarily stunned, and turned towards the newcomer. A man stood there, dressed in red, wearing the outfit of an assassin, steel blue eyes boring into his, and scars… scars...

Corvo's mind derailed.

“You,” he snarled, his body and mind boiling. His lip snarled and curled and the assassin known as Daud just frowned, his grip tightening where it rested on Corvo's shoulder. “Why are you--”

“Where was she, Corvo.”

It wasn't a question, it was an order, a demand. And all it did was make Corvo’s rage boil over.

“I will never tell you,” he spat out, hating how the hand on his shoulder didn't budge, hating how he couldn't twist away from those fingers, didn't want to--

“This isn't a game, Attano,” Daud growled back, his teeth and eyes flashing, crackling with underlying arcane energy. It was overwhelming and heady, but Corvo still managed to sneer in response. “If I don't know where my assassin took Emily, she may be dead, or worse.”

“Worse?” Corvo asked, unable to stop the question from blurting out. “What could possibly be worse than--”

“Sir?”

They both froze. Corvo watched as those surgical eyes went wide and he himself bristled in surprise. Daud turned; behind him, a single masked whaler stood.

And then, Corvo felt the weight of fifty more minds slam into his.

“Daud, sir--”

“Daud--”

“Sir--”

“What--”

The cacophony grew louder and and louder as a dozen different emotions tangled together and intertwined. Corvo gaped stupidly as Daud's jaw worked, the rage simmering under the surface as his mind compartmentalized each assassin in turn. Through the haze, Corvo only caught glimpses -- confusion, worry, interest, annoyance, irritation and --

“Wait. Attano?”

He froze. The mind that reached out to him was familiar, but only just. Corvo remembered it from behind a wall, one that was erected to stop his mind from rampaging into the other's. He found the whaler, and the whaler found him.

The ripple of realization meant more than fifty emotions and inquiries suddenly beelined straight to Corvo. He heard them all in his mind’s eye, all of their fear and confusion and curiosity and statements of whatwhenhowwhy colliding and mixing together. He stumbled under the wave, his panic rising.

“Damn it all,” Daud said, a note of desperation in his own voice and thoughts. His grip tightened, claws digging into the meat of Corvo's arm as he turned to face the bodyguard. Behind him, the voices of the assassins muffled down to a murmur and faded out; it took Corvo a second to realize that Daud had blocked the rest of them out --five dozen or so voices, in an instant, and all on his own.

“Corvo,” he said again, his voice as clear and as sharp as ice. Even so, Daud looked oddly sad, but he managed to shake the expression away. “Find me and you'll find Emily. That's a promise I intend to keep.”

Daud adjusted his grip; Corvo didn't take the opportunity to jerk away.

“A clue,” Daud pleaded. “Please. Anything.”

Corvo stared at him. His eyes traced the scars skirting down Daud's face, realizing they were like his scars, that years ago some wild wolf did to Daud what Daud to him--

“Corvo.” The assassin sounded so desperate. Corvo felt lightheaded.

Death or worse. Death or worse.

“Old wood,” muttered out, despite his earlier proclamation. “Wet grass. Fields. And a magic, a different kind of magic from ours.”

Ours. Spirits, why did he say --

Warm appreciation filled him from head to toe, making his senses spin. He closed his eyes, soaking in the emotion, but as soon as he registered it it was gone, severed, and he was thrown bodily from the Void.

------

Corvo hit the wood floor of the attic with a thud, knees giving out and buckling under him. Sweat dripped from his face and he gasped in a breath; outside the thunder crashed like a breaking wave, shaking the whole pub. In his hand, the Heart beat wildly, reminding him that what he just witnessed wasn't all some crazy fever dream.

He sat up, body shaking and head swimming. Despite his exhaustion, his rigor was renewed with a greater clarity and sense of purpose.

Find me. Find Emily.

Fur flowed and bones popped and a shaggy body turned towards the window, pushing it open and slithering out. Despite the rain and the depth of night, Corvo moved with grace, pushing his wolfen body with every beat of that second heart in his head.

I’ll find you, Daud. And when I do, I better find Emily, too.

He just prayed he wasn't already too late.